#(and maybe even a better-looking human body along the way)

[ponds-of-ink]

I’m trying to sleep, but mmmm the FNAF Animatic potential in “If You Want Perfection” tho.

That song is 100% “William Afton getting duped big time (for once)” energy— Especially in one section.

[hohuios]

Tag drop: 2/2

[marvelfilth]

Torn (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

Warnings: set during AoA, kryptonian!reader, love triangle, established Natasha x reader - fwb situation, somewhat toxic!Natasha, smut, violence, jealousy

Summary: after your home planet is destroyed, you find a new home in Asgard, but when your brother brings you along to Earth, you find more trouble than you expected.

Masterlist

"F-fuck, Y/n. Right there… Yes." The woman below you pants in your ear, nails scraping down your back to grip your butt possessively.

Your hips move faster, deeper with each thrust, making her moan. "You could've told me you were coming back today," you grunt.

She digs her nails into your skin and you hiss in annoyance, slapping her inner thigh. "Do that one more time and I'm not fucking you for a week."

The spy lets out a throaty laugh that turns into a scream when your thrusts suddenly become harsh and uncoordinated, your hands pressing down her hips. Her tits bounce with each push, her perky nipples begging for attention. You look up to her tear stricken face, enjoying the sight of her reddened cheeks and bleeding lips.

"It was- fuck… u-undercover," she's breathless, stuttering, "... secret," she manages at last, pulling your face down to her breasts, knowing you still have something to say.

You're annoyed and maybe a little bit hurt, but you still let her guide you, eagerly sucking on the tender skin, grazing her nipples with your teeth.

Maybe she'll finally agree to talk to you after.

She comes with a stifled cry, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and gets up as soon as her body stops shaking.

You have a lot of things to say, but your mouth is suddenly too dry and your throat too hoarse, so you sit on the edge of your bed and watch her dress.

"Thank you," she kisses you on the corner of your mouth, lingering, nose nuzzling against yours when she pulls away.

She looks reluctant to leave and you hope she doesn't.

The door clicks shut on her way out.

×××

"No daydreaming on the mission briefings." Clint snaps his fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You blink, eyes refocusing to see everyone staring at you in question.

"What?" You ask, shifting in your seat.

"Stark wants to know if you like your new suit," Natasha asks with a smirk on her face.

You look up at the screen in front of the room and there it is - yet another heavily modified piece of clothing you undoubtedly going to destroy on your next mission.

You can admit it looks better than the previous one, the red is much deeper and the blue is not as obnoxious, but they still clash, not coming together as seamlessly as the one you wore back home, but that's the best Stark can offer and you're thankful he's even trying, so you nod in appreciation and send him a grateful smile.

"Think this one will fall apart mid flight?" Thor teases, reminding you of one of your most embarrassing moments.

It happened when you first joined the team. Tony made you wear a suit he made, claiming it was good to match with the team, so you've listened to make him happy and fit in better. It's a good thing you wore your underwear from Asgard that day.

"Now that it's settled we should move on to the purpose of this briefing," Steve waited until he had everyone's attention before continuing, "now that Thor is finally here we can finally take back the Scepter…" he continues with the details and you easily tune him out, focusing on the redhead woman across from you instead.

The corner of her lip is still quirked up, her eyes trained on Steve as he gestures to the map on the screen behind him. You look down at your hands on the table, fiddling with your thumbs.

You wish you were better at reading humans.

“You okay?” Clint leans into your side to whisper discreetly.

You nod, managing a convincing smile. “Didn't get much sleep is all.”

He glances at Natasha not so subtly, his brows furrowing. You think he's the only one who knows about the two of you, or, at least, he suspects.

“You know what you're doing, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, not knowing at all.

×××

You're hovering over the base, looking through the walls for Scepter, when you first see her.

The girl looks about your age, you think, maybe a little younger, and she is busy talking to a silver haired man. They look too out of place, dressed like high schoolers and unbothered by the attack. You frown when the girl whispers a quiet "take care of the big guy" to the boy, your mouth dropping open in shock when he runs almost fast enough to go unnoticed by you. Almost.

Deciding it's your time to intervene you warn the team before landing in front of the back entrance, eyes trained on the girl behind the door. You don't know what she's capable of and you find yourself intrigued. The door opens with a squeak and you wince, mutterings a curse under your breath.

She's out of sight by the time you enter, but you can still hear her erratic heartbeat.

"Come out," you say, tilting your head to the right. You heard enough to know she's hiding in the shadow.

You hear her gulp before she steps into your field of view, her shoulder grazing yours as she comes to stand in front of you.

She is beautiful, you think, taking note of redness in her pupils.

"You know who we are," you wait for her to nod before continuing, "you can come with me." You offer your hand, palm up, and wait for her to decide.

She scoffs and her eyes turn redder. "What makes you think I want to?" There's red around her fingers now and you find yourself curious to find out what she can do.

You smile. "You will come with us one way or another. I'd prefer not to hurt you."

You realise your mistake as soon as the words leave your mouth.

Suddenly, there's red everywhere and you're out of the building, flying through the door to the other end of the backyard. You feel a pressing weight on your chest, and when you look down you see red wisps enveloping your body, keeping you pinned to the ground.

You look up when a shadow falls on your face.

She crouches with a smirk planted on her smug face, and moves your hair out of your face. "You can come with me," she offers, mirth in her eyes and you let out a breathless laugh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.

"I'm afraid I have to say no," you whisper after a moment, strangely content at the mercy of your enemy.

She hums, waving her hand over you and you feel the weight disappear.

When you open your eyes she's no longer there.

×××

"You just let her go?" Natasha asks later that night, her head nestled on your chest after hours of hiding her moans in a pillow as you pounded into her.

You snort. "She's a witch, Nat, I don't think I can keep up with magic."

She lifts her head to look at you, eyes searching for something you're not even aware of. "You're the fastest person on this planet. Faster than her brother, and certainly faster than her."

You look away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. You didn't even think about your speed when you faced the witch.

You feel her get up from bed, and you open your eyes, reaching for her, "Natasha- " Her eyes flash, and you close your mouth.

She shakes her head. "She distracted you. And you let her go," she huffs and bends down to pick up her panties.

You get up and catch her wrist. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You ask, searching her eyes for an answer, but you're an alien and she's the best spy in the world so you're left even more confused.

She opens her mouth for a split second before snapping it shut. She pulls away and puts on a shirt before finally speaking, "I saw the footage."

You frown.

"Didn't know it only takes a little flirting and a pretty face to make you let an enemy go," she hisses through clenched teeth.

Your mouth drops open in shock.

"Are you-" you let out a breathless chuckle at the mere thought before finally getting yourself together, "are you jealous?"

You can hear her jaw grinding, can hear her nails dig into the soft skin of her palm.

And yet, you still can't believe what she just said.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Natasha," you say, and a split second later you're dressed and out in the nearby field, searing up towards the sky.

You don't see her falling back into the pillow you layed on mere seconds ago, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

×××

There's a party the next day, and a part of you just wants to hop in your pod and disappear in the depths of space.

Another part of you wants to see Natasha happy and content, basking in the warmth of your arms. You know she'll never allow anyone to know about the two of you, but still, hope blossoms in your chest when you first see her go down the stairs. She moves right past you towards the bar, and you see Banner approach her with a nervous smile. His flirting is awkward and you pity the man, awaiting Natasha's response.

She flirts back.

"So… You and Romanoff?" Steve comes to stand beside you, smiling his fatherly smile, and you fight the urge to run away.

"You should tell her," he presses on, "she's not the most open person in the world, but from what I know about her, I think… there's a good chance for the two of you to be happy."

You've told her.

She doesn't like you back.

You shoot him a quick, awkward smile. "I'll think about it."

He nods, satisfied and walks up to the pair, his eyes widening when he overhears the last bit of their conversation. He winces and looks back at you, knowing you probably heard it all by now.

You shake your head at the concerned look he sends your way, and walk to sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a moment, letting your hearing go wild, listening in on an argument on the other side of the city, anything to remove yourself from this situation. The argument doesn't last too long, the engaged pair making up not even ten minutes later and you move your attention back to the party.

When you open your eyes Thor is sitting beside you, daring Clint to pick up his hammer. You sit up straighter, curious to see where it might go.

"Everyone knows it's some kind of a trick." His fingers wrap around the handle, but the hammer doesn't move an inch, much to the archers embarrassment.

Tony appears seemingly out of nowhere to make fun of Barton and you join in on the laughter, enjoying the rare moment of happiness, momentarily forgetting about your not so fun predicament.

Thor winks at you, enjoying this way more than he probably should, and hands you a bottle of Asgardian beer.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Natasha join your little game, Steve hot on her heels. She looks a little out of place, eyes laced with uncertainty when she sees an empty spot by your side. With a slight push from Steve she sits, careful not to touch you.

Banner is left standing a few feet away.

"It's simple physics," Tony grins, attempting to lift the weapon. His eyes narrow when it stays in its spot.

You rub your eyes when he decides to embarrass himself even further, calling Rhodes for backup and putting on his suit. The ridiculous game goes on, and Steve decides to try, you don't bother to watch, but then you hear metal scraping against the fine wood of the coffee table. Your head snaps up to look at Thor and immediately you know he heard it too, his eyes going comically wide for a split second before closing in relief when Steve doesn't pull harder, letting the hammer stay in its place.

"Natasha?" Banner nudges the redhead.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your bear. You want to go and finish the drink in the solitary of your room, maybe let out a few tears, but you promised Thor you'd stay until the very end, knowing he's set to leave in a few short days.

"I don't want to know the answer to that question," she says before taking a sip of her beer.

"Y/n?" Thor invites you to try, but you shake your head no, an excuse already on your tongue when you first hear it.

The screeching is loud enough to hurt humans, but to your enhanced hearing it's pure torture. You fall to the floor, covering your ears, letting out a silent cry and Natasha is by your side immediately, pressing you into her side, trying to ground your hearing. You hiss in pain, your head feels like it's being slit open, and you think Natasha is saying something, but you can't focus on a single thing.

The next second you feel her lips against yours and the sound is gone, replaced by Natashas frantic heartbeat.

"Focus on me, baby, come on," Natasha whispers against your lips, words barely audible. You nod, trying to regain your senses.

Her kisses move lower to your chin, then to your jaw, her fingers skimping under the hem of your shirt, setting the skin of your lower stomach on fire.

"Stay with me, baby," she mumbles in your ear.

There's a fight going on around you, robots flying around destroying everything in sight, but the only thing you see is Natasha's glistening eyes as she pulls away to check on you.

Then she's pulling you up and out of the room, narrowly missing a piece of metal flying her way, your eyes flicker around and you stop in your tracks, ready to join the fight and end it in seconds, but then there's a tug on your hand.

"They'll handle it. Let me take care of you."

You nod, feeling hope blossom in your chest.

Maybe Steve's right.

×××

They handled it and now you're off to Africa, getting ready to fight a villainous robot made of vibranium. The jet is weirdly silent - Tony's sulking in the corner, unusually quiet, Steve stares him down from his seat, jaw grinding in annoyance and you wonder what happened after Natasha led you to her room. You tried to pry away, ready to run back and join on the planning, but she didn't budge, staring you down until you relented and fell against the sheets, her fingers making quick works of your belt buckle.

Now though, she's back to acting like she doesn't care, her eyes trained on the skyline and you can't even pretend you aren't hurt.

"We are close," you warn the team, already searching for the target. Your eyes lock on the pair talking to Ultron. "The twins are there, on the second floor, talking to Ultron. We need to hurry."

Natasha looks at you for the first time since you boarded the jet. "Stay away from the witch. We'll handle her."

You scoff at her tone, mildly pissed at her bossing you around. "You're ordering me around now?" you force through gritted teeth.

Her eyes narrow and she looks like she wants to say more, but Tony pushes her out of the way to jump out of the jet, Thor and Steve following right behind him, and she's left glaring daggers at your back as you hurry along.

You look for the witch the moment you land.

She's easy to find, hiding in the shadows, waiting for a perfect moment to strike, while her brother runs around wrecking havoc.

"Little witch," you call out, startling her enough to make her jump up.

Her eyes flash in annoyance, but the second she sees it's you her lips stretch in a one sided smile. "I have a name, you know."

You nod, your lips stretching into a full blown grin. You remember how your last conversation ended, but you don't care much about the possibility of her hurting you.

"I won't," she says, like she just read your mind.

You suppose she might have, she is a witch after all.

She shakes her head, letting out a huff of laughter, "There's a lot of things I can do," her eyes flash dangerously, her smile now with a hint of malice, "make sure not to cross me." She winks and turns just in time to step out of her brother's way.

You blink, cursing yourself for getting so distracted again, and dart after her brother. It is an easy ordeal, and mere seconds later you have him pinned to the ground.

"You really should let me go," he grunts against the concrete, wiggling against your hold.

"I am an alien, not an idiot," you scoff, easing your hold on him just a little.

He stills for a moment, craning his neck to take a look at you, "An alien?"

His eyes are full of wonder, and suddenly you're reminded that the two of them are young, the same age you were when you first stepped foot on Earth.

You sigh, looking around for a cage of some sort or a piece of metal to bend around the runner.

"Why are you helping them?" He asks, wonder replaced by anger. "Do you know what he did?"

There it is. An old basement with a bulletproof door.

"Making a bomb and launching it at civilians are two very different things, you know?" You quip and his eyes flash in indignation, but before he can start his rant you push him inside, locking the door and bending the metal for a good measure.

"He did some shitty things in the past, but at least he never joined the Nazis."

You walk away, painfully aware of the truth in your words. Now that you've said it out loud you're faced with the fact that the witch you've grown to like just after two short interactions is not a good person.

Shaking your head you make your way up, one down, two to go. You squint in the dark, trying to spot Ultron, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is Tony, so you mentally brace yourself to face the witch again, but the second you step on the landing you see Thor's slumped form.

"Hey!" You shake his shoulders and slap his face for good measure and his eyes open. He's blinking rapidly, like he just woke up from a long nap, his eyes glossed over.

"Y/n!" He whispers feverishly, and pulls you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay, of course you're okay. That witch. She warped my mind," he pants, pushing you away, "You need to make sure everyone else is okay."

You look him over, and once you're sure he's not hurt you nod, pulling him up to his feet, and take off in the direction of Natasha's heartbeat.

You stop in your tracks as soon as your eyes fall on the trembling woman. Tears stream down her face, but her eyes are focused on the floor, unblinking. She doesn't move when Clint presses her into his side, doesn't flinch when he hauls her up to her feet, but when her eyes register you she jumps as if burned, clutching at Clint.

You take a step closer, your own eyes watering, but she looks like she might throw up if you move any closer.

Clint sends you a look and shakes his head, mouthing, "I've got her."

She limps past you, shaking so violently you're sure even a human can notice.

They move past you and suddenly all you see is red.

Moving faster than the speed of light you have the witch pressed against the wall, her fingers clutched in your vice grip.

She looks up, her eyes wide and terrified.

Good, you think.

"What did you do to her?" You growl in her face, pushing her into the wall with your whole body.

No way you'll let her escape this time.

Her throat constricts. "I- Her biggest fear. I showed her her biggest fear." She sinks her body against the wall, trying to wrangle her hands out of your grip. Her heart is thrumming violently and you can't tell if the tiny skip of a beat is a result of her fear or her lie.

"She'll be fine in a few hours, I swear." Her eyes lock with yours, so unbelievably green, and you feel yourself slipping away. "Just let me go," she asks, pushing her body forwards, her fingers slipping away from your hold. Her face tilts forward until your lips are almost touching. “Let me go,” she whispers. You don't see the wisps of her magic swirl around her fingers, too focused on the way her lips move. Too many thoughts swarm your brain, but you find yourself focusing on one. You want her to close the gap.

"That's right, you want me to kiss you." Her lips almost brush against yours in a gentle peck. Your grip on her weakens completely and you're enveloped in her arms. Suddenly, she's everywhere. In your arms, in your head, in your heart. "I'm sorry about this," she whispers before pushing you off the ledge.

There's red everywhere and you find yourself falling and falling…

…and falling until your back hits the ground with a painful thud.

"Y/n! Get up. Come on." Your father helps you up, tilting your head to check the injury, but you can't focus on his face, all you can see is purple.

The planet under your feet rumbles, splitting open yet again, making your father forget about tending to your bloodied forehead in favor of hauling you up over his shoulder.

"No." You push against his shoulders when you finally realize where he's taking you. "No! I'm staying with you," you cry out, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

The sight in front of you is a nightmare. A sick, deranged nightmare. You can see the man responsible for this hold up the purple stone higher in the air, another powerful wave destroying everything in its wake.

"We have to fight, dad! We have to stop him! What about mom?!" You scream until your throat hurts, but your father doesn't budge, pushing you through double doors leading to the pods.

"We will fight," he promises, putting you down. "But you… you're destined for greatness, my child. You can't die fighting a losing battle." He places a kiss on your temple, pushing a syringe into your side.

You stare at him in betrayal, fighting against him with all your might, but your limbs get too heavy and your eyes start closing on their own.

You're pushed in the pod and your father types coordinates for Asgard. "They'll treat you as their own," he chokes, trying to fight tears, "I love you, my sweet girl."

"Y/n!"

You sit up, gasping for breath, eyes darting around the room.

"Y/n, a little help!"

Tony's voice sounds from your comms and you shudder.

"I can't-" you sob, looking around you, searching for the witch, but she's long gone, and all you can do is sit in the dark and hope someone will come and get you.

"I don't know what you saw there, kid, but our green friend might chew me up any second now. I really need you," he pleads.

Your hands shake and your legs tremble as you stand up, forcing the memory to the back of your mind. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall and tear through the roof, unaware of a pair of eyes watching you leave.

[igbylicious]

under the new moon [yunsan x reader]

pairing: yunho x f reader x san

rating: 18+

genre: werewolf au, smut, hurt / comfort

summary: an altercation with a hunter leaves you wounded, trapped in an aggressive frenzy, but Yunho and San know exactly how to safely bring you back home to them.

wc: 2.9k

general warnings: established relationship, supernatural werewolf strength for everyone, she/her pronouns for reader, pov switches, mentions of blood & injury, reader killed a werewolf hunter in self-defense, a pinch of angst, reader is literally feral and tries to fight yunsan first, they calm you down w/ sex yay

smut warnings: dom Yunho & San, feral sub reader, rough sex, manhandling, scratching, choking, biting, breeding kink, belly bulge, they got big dicks ofc, cum inflation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, knotting, DP (vaginal & vaginal / anal), vaginal / anal fingering, bodily fluids as lube, unprotected sex, pet names (good girl, darling)

a/n: idk yall, it’s not even themed for the mv i don’t know what happened??? maybe it was San’s fur coat maybe it was just the wolf living in my chest cavity. either way this was written in an unedited frenzy in the dark hours of the night, have fun! ( ˘ ³˘)♡

The forest is dark. Only stars shine overhead, the new moon casting no light on the trees and underbrush. Two large wolves prowl through woods, their path guided by the thick, metallic scent of blood.

The forest is quiet. Even during a new moon, its wildlife knows better than to cross the two predators. Even when unable to tap into the full height of their powers, they are dangerous.

Even more so when they are agitated with anger — and worry.

Yunho sniffs at the blood streaked over the bark of a felled tree. It’s still fresh. It’s yours.

San whines in concern, pressing his snout into Yunho’s neck to hurry him along. His black fur makes him near invisible in the cover of night, yellow eyes shining in the darkness. Usually the younger wolf is too rash, but tonight his impatience is justified. They don’t know how badly wounded you are. How much time you still have.

They found the hunter about two miles back, or what was left of him. Torn apart; a gaping hole in his abdomen opened by furious claws, his neck shredded by sharp teeth. (Deservedly so, Yunho had thought with quiet rage, when he saw a bloodied spearhead by the hunter’s side. The wooden shaft was shattered to pieces.)

Your trail leads them deeper and deeper into the forest, the night cold doing its best to penetrate Yunho’s thick silver fur. He tries to keep his head clear, to focus on finding you. He can’t afford to be distracted now, not by anger, not by fear, not by guilt.

It was a mistake, to let you go off on your own tonight. He knew the pack would be vulnerable tonight, he knew the human village nearby has been restless.

But Yunho can punish himself for his regrets later, because he also knows two other truths; the blood is still fresh, and you are strong.

They will find you. Alive. They will.

San growls in frustration when your bloody trail dissolves into a shallow river, the scent lost. The two wolves shift back into their human forms, wrapped in large fur cloaks, the ones they can take with them even when they turn. San’s pitch black, Yunho’s streaked with silver, matching the colour of their fur; and now their hair.

“She’s close,” San murmurs lowly, restless as he looks around the seemingly abandoned forest. “I can feel her.”

You are close. Closer than either of them realised.

The underbrush rustles, and San doesn’t even have the chance to blink before a shape pounces him from the shadows, snarling wildly. San curses as bloodied nails claw at his face, and he grabs at his assailant to hold them at bay — to hold you at bay.

Yunho’s eyes widen at the sight of you, feral and growling; your body human, but pure primal aggression in your mind. Fur cloak tattered, skin covered in scratches and bruises, an ugly gash on your shin. The injury does nothing to slow you down, momentum and surprise on your side as you pin San to the ground.

Yunho swears under his breath, leaping forward to help San to subdue you.

Fuck. You went too deep.

Had to push yourself too hard under this new moon, dug too deep for the power you needed to survive. Your wolf has overtaken you; and she is too frenzied to recognise friend from foe. To recognise her mates.

You yowl when Yunho grabs you by the scruff, yanking you away from San. You instantly turn on Yunho, scratching at his chest while you try to bite at the hand on your neck.

“San,” he grunts, hissing at the red marks your nails leave on his skin. “Now.”

San throws himself around you, pressing against your back as he grabs your wrists and locks his arms around your waist, engulfing you in his black furs. You snap at him, teeth flashing, but Yunho’s hand slips around your throat and he forces you to face him.

“Calm. Down,” Yunho growls, his own wolf instinctively rearing up against yours.

You can’t calm down. You can’t. Something is familiar about the two figures surrounding you, their scent like an itch in your memory — but it can’t penetrate the feral haze that’s taken over your mind. Your wolf trashes against their hold, howling danger, pain searing through your injured leg.

The bleeding has stopped by now, your regenerative powers feeding off your frenzy, but no matter how you struggle, you aren’t strong enough to break free from the two men and their strangely enticing smells. The hand on your throat tightens, your growls forced down to a weak wheeze as your body sags in their hold.

“Good. Good girl.” The hand relaxes, but does not release you entirely. Slowly they go down on their knees and lower you to the mossy forest ground, keeping you propped up between them. Long fingers brush up against a scarred patch of skin in the crook of your neck, and sudden heat lashes through you at the touch, drawing a sharp moan.

The one behind you groans and presses his nose into your hair, breathing in deeply. “Yunho…” he rasps, pulling you closer into him. Familiar name. Familiar scents. Familiar touch, fire licking sharply at your core. He is naked under his furs, same as you — and the growing hardness that twitches against your lower back is not unknown to you either. “F-fuck, she’s…”

“Yeah,” Yunho murmurs, rubbing his fingers into the mating bite he left on your skin years ago. “Her body remembers who she belongs with. Come, Sannie, let’s help her mind remember too.”

He pushes your tattered furs away to drop on the ground, and San takes immediate advantage to lap at his own newly exposed mark on your shoulder. You jolt in his hold, your wolf pulled in two directions. Yunho instantly tightens his grip again when you snarl and try to bite at San again — but he can smell your other, stronger instincts flare to life. His free hand finds wet slick when it slides between your thighs, a strangled whine torn from your obstructed throat.

San whines at the soft squelch when two of Yunho’s long fingers press inside you. Relief and hunger melt together inside him. You’re safe, back in his arms. They will take care of you now.

A primal need stirs in San’s blood as his teeth scrape over your skin, suckling at his old mating bite like his tongue can tease the memories out of you. Maybe it can. Or maybe it won’t be enough — maybe he needs to fuck them out of you. He groans, feeling dizzy on your scent, and ruts harder against your backside.

You’re trembling, gasping sharply as you’re pushed deeper on Yunho’s fingers by San’s humping. Every noise only fuels San’s need to fill you up, to ram his cock into your leaking hole until his knot catches, reminding your sweet cunt how the shape of him was made to fit inside you.

“Wanna touch…” he groans, gathering your wrists in one hand so he can reach down the other. Weakly you squirm against his hold; but it’s barely a fight, your aggressive haze subdued by your two mates.

Yunho grunts at the sight; he can’t deny it, his wolf preens at your submission. An animalistic urge to claim you, like he’s mating you for the first time all over again. Blood rushes down to his cock, revelling in your whimpers when San pushes another finger into your sopping cunt alongside his.

He watches how your stomach tenses and your thighs shake, telltale signs of a budding release, and he knows damn well his hand on your throat has long become unnecessary. He does not take it away.

Instead Yunho tilts up your head and he leans in, slotting his lips over yours. He groans when your lips part willingly for him, desirous for your mates. You whine as Yunho filthily licks into your mouth, adding another finger as he and San stretch you open for them. They’ll both take you tonight. Together. It hasn’t been said, but Yunho knows that San also knows this.

Mindlessly you grind into the fingers opening you up. You pant into the heated lips pressed against yours, a greedy tongue mapping out the wet cavern of your mouth. Wanton moans spill freely, growing louder with every added finger to your twitching cunt. Every time you think this must be your limit, and every time they prove you wrong, sending your head spinning.

You’re chasing something, barely knowing what it is, but hunting it down with every buck of your hips all the same. Something familiar again, pulling taut inside your aching cunt. It pulls, pulls, tighter and sharper until finally the strings snap. You cry out a ragged yowl as electrified heat tears you asunder, convulsing in the strong arms that hold you up.

You don’t even notice those hungry lips pulling away from your mouth — not until two sets of teeth sink deep into your shoulder and neck, into those two scarred spots that make your heart sing like it can finally come home.

With a wretched sob you clutch onto them, your hands finally released from San’s iron grip. He presses rough, reverent kisses against the broken skin of your shoulder, clumsy with urgency as he slips his fingers out of your cunt and grabs onto your waist. He barely waits for Yunho to pull his hand away, too frenzied to finally sink his cock into the wet hole where it belongs.

Yunho chuckles with dark fondness at San’s impatience, running his slick fingers through San’s hair as he presses a kiss on his matted forehead. “That’s it. Show her,” he whispers, and San whines at the encouragement, fingers digging harder into the meat of your hips.

“Y-you too,” he grunts tightly, strained as the last shreds of self-control slip through his grasp. “Our mate— she needs you too.”

Yunho hums in acknowledgement, pressing another kiss on San’s forehead before he pulls back. He takes your arms and loops them around his neck, and his cock twitches at how pliantly you let him move you, nuzzling into his chest. Still trapped in your delirious haze, but your wolf tamed and rendered docile by their command over your pleasure, willingly surrendering you to them.

You whine beautifully, your glistening folds parting to make way when Yunho guides his thick cock inside your loosened cunt. For all their efforts to stretch you open, both of them are big, and Yunho groans when he sees how your stomach bulges as he presses deeper inside. He takes San’s hand and guides it so he can feel the swell of them in your belly.

And something snaps inside of San.

He bares his teeth with a wild snarl, bucking his hips as he fucks into you recklessly. Fresh bites litter your shoulders, future bruises forming under his grip on your waist. You’re jostled by his rough thrusts, whimpering loudly as you claw at Yunho’s shoulders.

Yunho growls at the sting of your nails, meeting San’s violent pace. You’re moaning helplessly against his chest, hiccuping soft “ah ah ahh”s as they hit deep inside your needy, sopping cunt.

“Gonna fill you up,” San growls, lost in his frenzy. “Fill that belly with every drop of seed we got. Not gonna stop until we got you stuffed and bred. Won’t even know whose litter it is, won’t even matter. Ours, you’re ours.”

You whine in mindless agreement, trembling between them.

“You like that, hm? Like the thought of carrying our pups?” Yunho chuckles, though it comes out more a groan. You’re still so tight around him, San’s cock sliding against his in the snug space they made for themselves inside you. “You remember who you belong with now?”

His last question causes a hesitation in your squirmy moans, but it only spurs Yunho on harder. He can’t feel his knot begin to swell yet, so he just slams into you, drowning in every wet squelch of your leaking hole, only needing a few hard thrusts before he groans and spills inside you. Yunho hisses when San does not slow down — but his own cock does not soften yet. This night is far from over.

San moans at the smoother slide as he fucks Yunho’s seed deeper inside your hole. It does not take him long to follow, his hand on your stomach feeling every thrust as he buries himself into you, hips stuttering when he comes with a low growl. He pants against your shoulder, nosing at his mating bite, barely even slowing down through his release. Yunho starts moving again too, drawing fresh moans from your lips.

You feebly gurgle something against Yunho’s chest, the foggy haze in your mind consisting of nothing but white-hot pleasure now.

It’s overwhelming and yet you can’t get enough of it; addicted to the stretch, to the fullness that grows every time they cum inside you, until you can’t take more, their seed leaking out past their thick lengths and bubbling at the rim. You’re losing count, just as you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve clenched around them, milking their cocks as another orgasm was ripped from your worn-out cunt.

You can’t tell anymore where you end and where they begin, their hands and cocks melded into your body — until one hand wanders, first down to your sodden folds to slick up his fingers, then back to your ass. You whine as a thick finger eases past the tight muscle; but your body is so pliant and relaxed, melting away in the haze of pleasure, and soon the slight burn only makes you greedy for more.

San groans when you weakly press your ass back into him, two fingers now working you open, and then another. He will knot soon, he can feel it pulsing at the base of his cock; and no matter how well they stretched you out, they will break you if they both knot in your cunt.

But San does not mind taking your ass instead — he can feel the beautiful swell of your stomach, distended from the sheer amount of cum that you took so well from them. He did his part there, now happy to bury himself between your plump asscheeks.

You whimper when San pulls out, a sudden emptiness at the loss of him, but bite down a gasp when he pushes back inside your other hole. His cock is slick with cum, smoothly continuing his rough pace.

Yunho sighs contently at the loose and easy slide of your cunt, using this chance to fuck harder into you. He guides you to sit upright, cupping your chin to steady you. He tilts your head up, giving himself a good look at the blissed-out expression on your face. Nothing but empty pleasure behind your teary eyes, all your earlier fear and aggression wiped clean. Leaving yourself vulnerable and exposed between them, knowing you are safe here. That you can let it all go.

“Got one more for us, darling?” he grunts, trying to hold back a little longer. “Show us how good we make you feel?”

The words come to you through a thick fog, but you heed them all the same. You can’t help it, not when nimble fingers suddenly press against your clit, pinching at the swollen, oversensitive nub. Your entire body seizes up with a strangled cry, and you sob at the pure, overwhelming fullness as two knots swell up inside you, plugging both your holes.

You’re shaking, tears spilling down your cheeks as you slowly come down. Four hands move warmly over your body; rubbing your back, your shoulders, the distinct swell of your belly. One of those hands cups your cheek, lifting you up to meet a pair of shiny brown eyes.

Yunho’s eyes.

He smiles tiredly with rounded cheeks, long fingers gently caressing your jaw. Your breath catches at the recognition, staring back at him with wide eyes before you whip your head to look back. There, San gives you a slow, satisfied grin, his cheeks flushed and sweat beading on his forehead.

Relief breaks through your haze, and the sudden outpouring of emotion is too much for you to carry.

San startles when you hiccup a weak sob, and he immediately presses soothing kisses on the scattered bites he left on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re here,” he murmurs. “We got you.”

“I know, I know” you snivel, grateful for Yunho carefully wiping away your tears. “You found me. I knew you’d find me.”

“Of course we found you,” Yunho smiles as he gently rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “You wouldn’t let us lose you. You always find your way back to us.”

Your shoulder shake silently as their arms wrap around you, engulfing you in their body heat. You slump into their solid, strong frames and relish how they’re still connected inside you. It will take time for their knots to come down, and they fully intend to use every second of it to lavish you with tender affection. You sink away into the comfort of them, knowing you are safe and home again.

[defmaybe]

A Romantic and Incomplete Guide to Tokyo

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8, January 1st, 2025

STAYC’s Yoon Seeun x Male Reader

3.7k words

Christmas Masterlist

The chilly air courses through your body inside Narita—thought it’d be warmer inside the building. You rub your hands, seeking just a tiny amount of warmth. Fuck, how cold is it?

The weather app shows a single digit temperature. Even the three-layer clothing you’re wearing doesn’t help, really.

Fuck.

“So, we’ll match you into pairs. For those who are already in a group–” you can’t quite focus on what the guides are saying. You’ve barely slept on the plane. The cabin croaked and cried all the way. God, it’s going to be another bad first day.

You’re too focused on your predicament to hear the voice of a woman beside you.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this place is cold.

“Hey.” Her voice is finally processed by your mind with a tap on your shoulder. You’re jolted out of your trance. Beside you is a somewhat tall (well, as tall as you), smiling woman. She doesn’t seem to be that much of a talkative person, judging from how she fully buttons her coat. You can handle that. 

Her eyes are gorgeous. It’s a pair that might hypnotize you somewhere along the trip. Her face is more on the wider side. She looks beautiful nonetheless. Fuck, you forgot to say something. Did you just stare at her like that? Good grief, first day and it’s over for you!

“Yeah, I get it. I didn’t sleep last night either,” she says with a chuckle. What a relief.

You blink to refresh yourself from the fatigue. “Y–Yeah, hi!”

You tell her your name. She tells you her name—Seeun. She tells you that people often misread her name as See-un, which is funny because she happens to have a friend named Sieun. Both of you are from the same city, though you two have probably never met each other.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m in the entertainment industry,” she answers with a shy smile.

With a face like that, yeah, she probably is.

—

“Definitely, Maybe.”

“What, did you watch it at fourteen or something?” Seeun asks with a chuckle. “I thought it was like–a three-star movie.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

The two of you are treading aimlessly inside Tower Records (the Shibuya one), trying to find a few albums to take back to your homes. You’ve picked up a few. She has picked up a few.

“That feels a bit–condescending,” you say with a forced smile, a little disheartened. Come on, Seeun, you don’t have to be so rude!

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I mean–mine’s not much better either,” she apologizes, guilt looming in her voice.

“What is it?”

“The Last Jedi.”

You halt your movements, shocked by her answer. Sure, The Last Jedi still have a lot of supporters, but you didn’t expect her to be one of them.

“Really?”

She stops walking along with you, doubling down on her answer. “Yeah.”

“That’s brave,” you say.

She chuckles. “What? Are you going to say that I’m tasteless or something?” She walks past your face to pick up Good Riddance. You also have one back at your home from your trip a few years ago, the deluxe one.

“I gave it four and a half stars,” you reply. That’ll definitely impress her.

“That’s cool,” she says, eyes still focused on the album. Her expression seems happier, though. “What do you like about it?”

You lean in closer to Seeun to look at the back of the album with her. It’s the deluxe version, sixteen songs. If she wants to buy one, this should be it. “I love a movie with a vision.”

A smile escapes Seeun’s lips. She’s clearly impressed by your answer. “Says the one who has a two-thousands romance as their favorite,” she playfully teases.

“Fourteen is a crucial age in human development,” you scoff. “What did you watch back then?”

“Award winners,” she says, putting Good Riddance on top of a stack of Souvlaki, Pet Grief, Charm, and a few more albums you’ve never quite heard of. Unlock My World? Titanic Rising? 

“I had a lot of free time during the summer before my ninth–or tenth grade, so I kinda just watched whatever was in the award-winner section on Netflix.”

She counts the stack. It’s at six albums, for now. “But yeah, I particularly love The Last Jedi because Rian did what Jeffrey didn’t, or wasn’t brave enough to. Star Wars can be too safe a lot of times.” She continues walking into the G aisle, and you have to catch up with her.

“I get that,” you say, glancing around for potential candidates for your stack, nothing as of now. “So, just The Last Jedi, or–”

“Steel Magnolias,” she cuts you off sternly, confidently. You’re not surprised (both with the choice and how she cut you off). They really scream her.

“That feels more like you.”

A small laugh escapes her lips. 

“You could’ve just asked for my Letterboxd, you know?”

—

The ramen shop is filled with tour group members. No loud chattering, of course. The tour guide explicitly asked for that. It might disturb the other visitors.

You and Seeun are sitting with two other fellow travelers. The two of you are too shy to say a thing, though, so you just let Yeonjun and Miyeon shoot questions at you for the whole dinner. These two look so damn good. It’s as if they’re idols or something.

You learned about Seeun a little more. She has a younger brother. She was raised in Pyeongtaek. She has two cats at her parents’. You notice the way she keeps scrunching her nose. She looks so cute doing so.

She seems to love Shoyu ramen, but judging from a single order doesn’t seem fair. She eats with her mouth closed; that’s a good sign. Her mannerisms are just too perfect for a person. Her time in the industry probably teaches her a lot of this.

You trade contacts with Yeonjun and Miyeon as you finish the meal. It seems that they really are idols, after all.

“Maybe we can meet again soon? Like–after the trip,” Yeonjun asks.

Miyeon laughs softly, “You’ll have to be a bit conservative with your clothes, though. We don’t want any attention on us.”

“Sure,” you answer, and that’s a date.

—

“So, how about we keep switching every day? Four nights, that should be two for each.”

In front of you is a double bed.

A double bed.

You cannot fathom the idea of sleeping next to a person who you've known barely a day. It’s going to be awkward. You cannot do this!

“Y–You said you work in the entertainment industry, right?” You can’t risk her back just for your own comfort. Don’t be an asshole! Help her!

“Yeah, and?” she makes a slightly puzzled expression.

“Well, I don’t want your back to–”

“Do you know you can just ask them for a cushion?”

“Oh,” you utter. That was embarrassing.

“I’m not going to be a snobby bitch over a bed, you know?” she says with a giggle.

—

You cannot sleep that well last night, even with the cushion. Now, you’re walking along a road in Harajuku, a little fatigued, a little tired.

You take in the atmosphere around you, trying to inhale some clean fresh air. The trees are more than abundant. What an atmosphere. It feels so cozy, so comfortable. God, you just wish you could live here forever.

Seeun seems to notice the exhaustion that’s creeping up on you, though.

“Good sleep?” she asks, trying to gauge your current state. You’re tired, of course, but you can’t let her know that.

“Y–Yeah.” Well, the stutter in your voice is evident. That’s bad.

She chuckles, patting your back softly. Your body shudders at her apparently friendly touch.

“Well, it’s my turn tonight.”

The two of you trod along the streets of Harajuku. You take a few pictures. She takes a few pictures.

—

Well, you’re feeling a little guilty now. The bed is just feeling too comfy. Seeun is probably hurting her back down there.

You keep shifting and turning on your bed, unable to sleep. A lot is going through your head right now.

“Seeun?”

No answer.

“Seeun?”

Still no answer.

You lean your head over the edge, only to find Seeun already in slumber. A small smile is painted on her face. It’s probably a good dream.

You should just let her sleep.

—

“So.”

It’s Yokohama day. You’re sitting at a Starbucks under some tower, while the others seem to be enjoying themselves somewhere else. The chilly wind blows on your face.

“How about we–uh,” you pause, trying to gather the courage to say the next words.

“You’re making it look like it’s something bad,” she says, chuckling. A cup of hot latte rests in her hand idly.

“I’d argue that it’s pretty weird.”

“And I’d argue that I won’t be mad at you, like–how bad can it be?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say the next words.

“Can we–Can we just–sleep on the bed together?” you ask, avoiding her eyes. The last few words come out a bit too fast, but you believe that the message was delivered, nonetheless.

She lets out a smile. “Sure, why not?”

You do a double take. You’re shocked that she’d say yes to it as easily as that. “That was easy.”

“My back fucking hurts.” And you two let out a laugh together.

—

She smells good.

It’s already one in the morning, but you’re still shaking in the dripping anxiety of sleeping next to her. And with that smell. You just can’t sleep.

Fucking hell.

“Seeun.”

“Yeah?” she answers immediately. God, hasn’t she slept yet?

“What perfume do you use?” And you hear a giggle come from your side.

“Dior’s Sakura,” she says.

“Can I–uh–see it?” you ask.

She grabs the bottle. You’re expecting her to hand you that, but suddenly, she sprays it on her wrist.

“Wh–Wha–”

She gives you her wrist, and the smell reaches your nose before you can say a word. You close your eyes. It’s so intense, yet so fresh, like spring.

“O–Oh.”

“How was it?” she asks with a giggle.

“It was–uh–pretty good.”

Seeun bursts out a laugh. “Come on, it’s definitely better than pretty good. Like–look at your face!”

It’s definitely better than pretty good. “Y–Yeah, it’s–heavenly, Seeun.”

“You want some more? C’mon, grab my arm. It’s yours,” she invites you, and to be honest, there has never been any arm you’d want to take in its scent more than Seeun’s.

With your instinct, you pull Seeun’s right arm closer to your nose, before taking a deep breath full of her scent, eyes closed. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you’re in heaven right now.

You hear Seeun laughing from the left. It’s a bit weird to sniff a woman’s arm like this, really, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I don’t think you should stop just there, baby,” she suddenly blurts out.

The word spurs you on. You immediately go over Seeun’s body to have her below you, all smiling and blushing. She’s avoiding your gaze. She’s shy, but she wants this. She’s craving for this, and so are you.

“What should I do with you, Miss Yoon?” you tease her, drawing a line in the middle of her chest with your index finger, making her keen softly.

“A–Anything, baby. I need you–right now.”

You immediately latch your lips with hers, invading her mouth aggressively. She tastes like strawberry. The wet sound of kissing rings over your ear.

“So–So good,” she mutters into the blazing kiss. Her hands quickly pull down your pants, revealing your throbbing cock underneath. She then starts jerking you off with her filthy hand. She wants to milk you dry as quickly as possible.

You pull back from the kiss. A string of saliva connecting your lips is evident. That looks so fucking hot. Below, she’s still rubbing your cock up and down, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“M–My god, Seeun,” you groan.

She only chuckles, before drawing her hand back, leaving you whining in the absence of her.

“Can’t have you cum outside of me, baby,” she whispers, unbuttoning her top. Her beautiful cleavage comes into view. Her nipples sit just around the edge of her shirt. You quickly swathe her shirt away, revealing her hard, dusky nipples. She’s ready for you.

Immediately, you latch your needy mouth onto her buds. The mixture of the salty taste of her sweat and her scent of spring are mixed into an aphrodisiac. Her raw, unfiltered moans fill your ears.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” she mewls. Her hands pressing your head onto her breasts. God, what a feeling.

You lavish her tits, hands trying to get rid of her shirt. She lifts herself up from the bed slightly to give way, and finally, the obstructing shirt leaves her taut body, exposing her upper body in all glory for you.

Still, it’s not enough. You need more. You need more. Your mouth travels down her toned tummy, making her moan is pure pleasure. Finally, you reach the edge of her pants, and you slowly, so, so slowly, pull them down, exposing her wanton cunt. Fuck, she’s already wet.

“Nghhh~” Seeun groans, a hand reaching down to rub her drenched folds by the sensitive nub. Her body jolts as she touches there. She’s moaning, and you can only watch.

“Goddamn it, Seeun. Thought you need me,” you utter.

Seeun giggles through her moan. “I–I’m waiting. J–Just need something i–inside me.”

Hastily, you unbutton your shirt, making you bare above her wanting body, before throwing the shirt to god knows where. You’re so ready to fuck her with your cock.

“Ah–will you just–ah–p–put it inside me already?” Seeun mewls, hand busy rubbing her cunt.

With sheer force, you flip Seeun so that she’s above you. You’re going to have her ride you until you’re dry.

“M–My god, you’re gonna have me do all the work?” she asks, her hands resting on your chest, almost clawing your skin.

“I–Is that okay?”

“Mmm, only if you cum inside me,” she answers sultrily, biting her finger.

You smile, lining up your cock against her pussy. She slowly sinks down, and–

“Ah!” the two of you moan in unison.

The feeling of Seeun on your cock is unreal. Her walls graze your cock, making you moan erratically. She ever so slowly sinks down on your cock, making you watch yourself disappear into her. Fuck.

She pushes her cunt down until you’re buried up to the hilt. You then languidly draw your cock out of her, before you thrust straight back into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she cries out.

You catch your tempo, starting to move in a steady rhythm into her needy pussy. Both of you groan in pure pleasure. God, this feels so fucking good.

“D–Do you know STAYC?” Seeun asks, trying to catch the rhythm of the debauchery.

STAYC, Star to a Young Culture. You’ve heard of them. A few hits have passed your ear. SO BAD, STEREOTYPE, Bubble. A pretty decent group, you’d say.

“Y–Yeah, have heard a few songs,” you reply, unsure where this conversation would go. She’s still moving up and down on your cock majestically. Her breasts sway with the movement. She’s beautiful. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy only brings pleasure to you.

“Well–” she grabs onto your shoulders, leaning in closer “–I’m one of them.”

What the fuck?

You shoot a confused expression towards her, before slowly turning into a laugh. “Ha–r–really?”

“Didn’t g–get this abs and thighs by a miracle,” she answers. Yeah, she does look good.

“Goddamn,” you exclaim, still shocked by the revelation. She’s an idol, a pretty popular one. “Well, it’s an honor to be engaging in a coitus with you, Miss Yoon.”

She bursts out a loud laugh. Her back arches. Coitus is the funniest word you could think of, and that seems to work on her. “Oh my god, coitus? What the fuck was that?”

You cannot help but to laugh along with her. “Ha–sorry, d–didn’t mean to.”

“I–If I can’t cum because of this–I’m gonna be pissed,” she says, chuckling.

You touch her thighs, trying to feel her approaching orgasm, and it’s there. She’s tensing up. “Looks like my words have no effect, Miss Yoon,” you tease.

“You’re lucky today,” she happily replies, poking your nose softly, as she keeps bouncing on your length. 

You keep thrusting your hips up to meet her thighs in the middle. Don’t want her to do all the work, after all. The wet sounds of your fleshes smacking into each other echoes through the room. The smell of your perfumes and sex are mixing into a concoction. It’s an aphrodisiac that only serves to drive you insane.

“G–God, you smell so good, Seeun,” you involuntarily utter, so lost in her scent of spring.

“T–Told ya, Dior’s Sakura f–for a Japan trip,” she says, voice almost moaning.

Your thrusting goes on, but the scent is just too hard to ignore. It’s making you crazy. You need her. You need her smell. Suddenly, you pull Seeun down towards you. She yelps in shock, before you take in the scent of the crook of her neck. Fuck, she smells like spring—so fresh, so clean. It’s so lively.

“Wh–What a freak,” she scoffs, but you’re sure that she’s enjoying this, judging by her moan.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply with a giggle, still inhaling her lively scent, pressing your lips on her neck from time to time. She tastes as good as she smells.

“G–God, you’re making me cum, baby,” she utters, grinding on your cock in an even more frantic motion. Her breathing becomes more erratic and seconds go by.

You pull back from her neck to roam over to her soft breasts above you. They feel so good in your hands. She cries out in the overstimulation you’re giving her—your hands on her chest, your cock digging into her dripping wet pussy. It’s heaven to her.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cu–ah!”

Her entire body becomes rigid. A stream of her squirt leaks out of her already-drenched cunt. Her eyes flutter in ecstasy. Her walls contract around your cock. Her back arches, showing her nude body in all glory for you. Her moan hits high notes. God, she has a wonderful voice.

You properly fuck her through her seemingly-neverending peak. You keep pounding into her pussy with reckless abandon as her body spasms above you. Her pleasure-infused moan grows shakier at the overstimulation. Her body then falls on top of you, locking you in a tight embrace.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god. Y–Your cock is so f–fucking good!” she shouts, spurring you on even more. Your pace quickens, plowing into her spent cunt erratically, so determined to fill her with your cum.

The familiar tension coils inside your stomach. You’re ready to fill her up. You’re ready to paint her insides white. You’re ready to breed her. You’re ready to reach the precipice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her pussy frantically. Her body limps on top of you, simply without energy to move anymore.

“N–Need you–b–breed me,” she whimpers, eyes barely opening, body getting ragdolled by your motions.

With any remaining energy, you’re so determined to fully breed her with your cum. You pound her pussy with your thrusts, chasing your own orgasm. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You reach your breaking point. Your entire body shudders at the peak. Your cock shoots cum into her wanton, needy pussy, filling her womb with your nectar. A guttural groan leaves your lips. You’re taking full pleasure in fucking her wanting body. Fuck, it feels so good.

You slowly come down from your orgasm. Your breathing finds its rhythm again, panting for air. Your hands cling to her body tightly, not wanting her to leave you. Both of you are blushing under this Tokyo moon, and you couldn’t be happier with where you are—under her, inside her.

“That–That was f–fucking good, b–baby,” she utters, stuttered. Her hands are caressing your flushing body, feeling every curve and contour.

“Y–You are too, baby,” you say, still trying to catch your breath under the gleaming moonlight. “Fuck.”

Seeun softly chuckles, slowly dragging herself off your cock. Your groan as her walls are grazing your sensitive cock. It almost hurts, but finally, you’re out of her wet cunt.

“I–I’ll go to the b–bathroom,” she whimpers before getting off the bed, limping towards the bathroom to wash your filths out. Your juices can be seen dripping down her meaty thighs, what a lewd sight.

As she enters the bathroom, you lie back down on your bed—tired, spent, waiting for her to come back. You think about what just happened with Yoon Seeun on this bed. You kissed her. You sucked on her breasts. You pounded her pussy with reckless abandon, then shot spurts of cum inside her. God, could tonight get any better?

“Babe!” Seeun shouts from inside the bathroom.

You lazily get up from the bed, thinking of what she could possibly want. You walk towards the door before opening it.

The sight of Yoon Seeun seductively biting her finger greets you. She’s leaning on the sink. Her breasts are resting on her chest gorgeously. Your cum is still dripping down from her used pussy, and you figure it out.

She wants another round.

“S–Seeun,” you say, leaning tiredly against the door. You don’t have the energy to go on anymore. You just want to sleep already.

Seeun giggles before walking towards you. There’s the sway of her hips. There’s the way she bites her finger. There’s the way she puts one leg in front of the other every step. And before you know, your cock is hard again.

You can go for another round.

She pulls her finger out of her mouth, biting her lip sultrily. She then plunges her bitten finger into your mouth, making you suck on it the same way you suck her tits. A chuckle escapes her lips.

“Think you can handle me again, baby?”

With her finger inside your mouth, you can do nothing but nod.

—

[tteokdoroki]

brats & bows katsuki bakugou ── ᡣ𐭩 ˙ ̟🩰 !!

⋆˙ᝰ about! katsuki lets you wrap a bow around his pretty throat and boss him around… or at least try to.

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. nsfw, smut. characters aged up to 20s, light!choking, size kink, switch dynamics, unprotected sex, bows for bondage, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

ok ok… convincing bakugou to let you wrap a pink bow around his neck.

riding him slow and steady, your cunt milking him with every clench and his cock spurting little streams of precum deep inside every time it spasms. you sink down on him so slow he think he might die from your tortuous pace. bakugou knows he can take over at any minute, there’s a strength in his body no other human could possibly match. it would be easy for him to flip you over and pound you to putty into the couch. he is a pro hero after all…but he really does like this. he loves the feel of your hand reaching back to wrap around his thick throat and dance along the silk ribbon you’d begged to tie there.

your fingers are so small that they hardly can’t even fit around around him entirely… but he feels the heat of your palm through the pink material and the burning sensation of lust that you pass onto him. katsuki adores your sweet little attempt at choking him while choking back your own heavy tears, hiccuping while you throw your hips back and forth so that his tip never leaves your sweet spot. lewd squelching sounds echo throughout the room, needy whines like a lamb bleating at its slaughter tack themselves to your swollen lips and slide through katsuki’s eardrums like dangerous molten molasses.

something about you crying for him, drooling on him drives the blonde insane and makes it hard for him to hold back — he almost feels sorry for you. his precious little cry baby. he knows he’s a little sick for it.

katsuki likes that you think you’re in control when you’re on top of him and in his lap. using him like your own personal fuck toy — but he knows you’re frustrated, itching for the explosive man to touch your clit, to stick his fingers in your mouth and press down on your tongue or better yet kiss you. your sweaty back to his sweltering chest, his shallow breathing coasting along your bare shoulders makes it worse. katsuki looking so pretty beneath you with a dainty bow secured around his neck to only pisses you off more.

you’d fought tooth and nail to put it on him, grinned like a Cheshire Cat when the blonde whimpered and twitched at the soft sensation of the ribbon around his neck — only just restricting his air ways. you thought that you’d have him under your spell, maybe begging to fuck you while you used him for your own orgasms.

but this is katsuki, and he’s just as bratty as you are. so, if you were going to be in charge, he’d let you. he’d make you work for it — a little bit of pink ribbon wasn’t going to make him submit to you that easily.

and therefore… he does nothing, lets you throw your ass back on his throbbing dick as it drips between your sticky thighs and he thinks he’s still got you under control. that is, until you reach grasp at the soft ends of his ribbon and use it to lug him forward with all your might, startling the cocky blonde.

it’s like a switch has been flipped inside of you, being kept on the edge because your boyfriend won’t fuck you to prove a point has you pent up and desperate. “don’t just sit there, kats,” you snarl in frustration between heavy breaths, sloppy pussy squeezing around the pulsating veins that decorate katsuki bakugou’s, cubby, aching dick. “be useful for once. fuck me. make me feel good.”

from this position, you can’t see the way his black pupils blow wide and swallow the red in his eyes like spilt ink. but your head tips back and to side, just enough to capture his cherry bitten lips in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. you lap into his mouth like a dog having her first taste of water, tasting his flavour and the sweat on his lips. every kiss l is mismatched, rough and messy but your bodies and their movements harmonise like no other — rolling against one another, your cunt never letting go of his swollen cock that fills you up oh so well.

your tone had said it all and it’s all bakugou really needed to let loose, his hips kicking up at the sound of your voice, rough with arousal and deepened with desire. finally, his calloused hands map their way over to your front, the pads of his fingers etching the letters of his name onto your puffy clit while others leave their mark on your hips — holding you in place to take his cock. the blonde loves it all, the way your back arches from his chest and the way your mewls turn to breathless growls when you lose your cool and pull the ends of the pretty bow so hard that his eyes glaze over, his brain goes fuzzy and he can’t stop thrusting up into like his life depends on it.

sweat beads on his brow and against katsuki’s hairline like a crown made of pearls or an angel’s halo much unlike the devilish act the two of you are committing right now. the competing wax and waning of your bodies sends a shiver down his spine — when you slam yourself down onto his seedy girth, katsuki bucks into you, slender hips and sweaty ass rising from the bed to grind his precum into your sluice walls.

maybe katsuki isn’t always in control, even when he thinks he is. maybe your big wet eyes and gushing pushy have more of a grip on him than he thinks…after all, you did manage to convince him to put the bow on after all.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[bigfatbimbo]

Take a Bite

1.5k words,, Bill Cipher x Reader

summary — Bill and the reader have sex, which has proven to be very difficult seeing as he isn’t doing anything, and, of course, things are never easy with that insufferable brat.

warnings — SMUT, bill being annoying and toxic, dom!reader, sub!Bill, heavy pain kink, bill’s human form, the fat fuck not the twink

a/n — Admittedly, this fic only happened because I never see Bill sub in fanfics and i’m very interested in what the dynamic would be. You’d be like… domming with a risk of death.

“Well, slick,” Bill leaned back and gestured up and down his body, “Give it your all.”

Amusement was thick in his voice, along with bubbling giddiness. He fumbled with the seams on his pants, not out of nervousness, but as if he had forgotten how to take them off and was looking for some kind of zipper. One, admittedly, that he would not find on slacks. 

“Wow, human clothes are just as bad as the fleshbags. So needlessly complicated,” He sounded on the verge of a laughing fit, “Oh, and toots? Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.” 

His amusement was not matched on your part. The situation invoked dull curiosity at best, in your opinion. The idea of harboring a wanted criminal, ex-overlord, god-like demon in your house challenged your idea of a good time. Having sex with that demon was even harder to swallow.

Then again, any situation with bill warranted an ungodly amount of stress. 

“Whatcha’ thinking about over there, sweet-cheeks?”

You smiled at that; of the few advantages you have, being in gravity falls for weirdmageddon proved to be one of them. You know of his powers, and with that, vague guesses on how to prevent them.

Tinfoil-lined bobbie pins were one of them. A guess, granted, but a good one at that. Really, not that complicated when you recall every alien movie you’ve ever watched. 

“Upset you can’t tell?” 

He laughed, “Upset for you, maybe. Trust me, it’d be so much easier for both of us if I could just read your thoughts. I’m already your roommate, how much closer could we ge- Ah.”

You brushed his pants crotch, and began to unbutton. For all his mightiness, the guy couldn’t work pants. “Careful, human body’s are touchy.” 

“Touchy,” He repeated, “Tell me about.” 

Getting his pants off was a task harder than it should have been, no thanks to Bill, who seemed to have taken to just lying there, occasionally flicking you, and then himself. 

When you finally peeled all of his clothes off, you warned him to brace himself, to which he ignored you. On top of that, the entire time Bill had been talking, droning on about ‘the last time he’d been in a human body.’

You wondered vaguely if he’d ever done this with someone else. In the time he’d been at your house he’d mentioned some ‘sixer’ ex-thing-ish of his. But you doubt he’d done anything with him.

As he’d mentioned, he hadn’t perfected his human form until very recently. Perfected is a strong word, he was pudgy and short, remanisent of a human peanut. And his teeth were terrible. 

Either way, you’d gotten him ready, and began your work. Laying a light finger on the tip of his dick, and running it down the base of his length, you got Bills first reaction: a short sniff.

Recovering fast, he adjusted his seat, “Yeah, tick tock, toots. This better be good.” 

It was his idea, you thought, but continued. Your fingers wrapped around the entirety of his cock and you began to stroke it. 

A sigh left Bills mouth, “Oh, this does have a kick to it. Maybe you’re not so bad, after all.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, you’d grow angrier and angrier. Although you were clearing making him feel good, he’d never shut his snide mouth for two seconds. 

“Jesus, slow down, pal— I just perfected this flesh-bag, at this rate your gonna break something—“ 

You didn’t realize how much your hand sped up. You thought for a moment, before completely stopping. Bill looked taken aback.

“Hey! what’s the—“

Without warning you grabbed his dick with full force and squeezed. He yelped, before giggling at the hurt.

This made you more mad, “God, do you ever shut up? I wish you’d lost your voice when you lost Gravity Falls.”

He stopped giggling. “I’d watch what you say, if I was you, kid.”

You threw your head back and laughed, running your hand slowly up his dick and then slamming back to the base of his cock. Finally, a reaction other than knowing bliss: anger. Weakness.

“Oh dear god, rearrange the features of my face then, Billy. See if I give a shit when you don’t have a place to live.”

His face turned red with rage, and he recoiled at the mention of your upperhand. And then, finally, at the slowing of your hand, a small, wavering whimper. 

You both caught it, and he was quick to put a hand of his mouth, “Sensitive human bodies - Hey, don’t look at me like that, that was not my fault.”

“God, you’re such a brat.”

“Oh please, what are you gonna do about it?” And he was completely serious.

Without much hesitation, you took the moment as an opportunity to abruptly sink yourself onto his dick. He sucked in a breath but you didn’t give him much time to do anything else.

“Ah- Now we’re talki—“ You slapped him hard across the face, and grabbed his cheeks with your hand, squishing them together, mockingly. Stifled laughter from Bill. 

“This is the form you spent all that time perfecting? I can barely feel anything. It’s worthless!” You sped up riding him, loosening your face to give the illusion you were bored, “You’re worthless.” 

His eyebrows arched down and his eyes widened, “I can kill you with a snap of my fingers! You think I need this sex— You think I need this hous— ah, ah—“

The unknown pleasure was getting to him, making his brain foggier than usual, and it was showing. Human senses were a key factor in your ability to keep the high-ground. Just as long as it felt good enough, he wouldn’t go back to his original form and… well. 

You wondered vaguely if you were actually going to be in mortal parole after this. But then again, the look on his face was almost euphoric, despite the anger. Thankfully, Bill was selfish, he’d probably chase the high again

You sighed, “Oh, you do need this house, Billy. Where else would you go? Everyone else in town has already forgotten about you, and your little maniac friends are no where to be seen.”

You sped up once more as your hands danced up his body, and continued, “With this whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind routine, i’m giving you something you won’t be getting anywhere else: attention.”

“You— Ah, curse this feeble human body! I’ll make your life a living hell-“ He whined, actually whined. 

Slamming yourself down on him, he cried out and then scowled. You raked your nails down his chest, deep enough to bleed, drawing out a  giggle from Bill as he felt the littlest bit of blood start to pool.

“You’re lucky this meatbag is— ah— funny enough—“ He was cut off with a gargle as a your hand sharply wrapped around his throat, and squeezed tight. 

“It’s not luck, i’m good at what I do, Billy. Not that you would know what that’s like, you pathetic shitbag,” although that insult wasn’t particularly true, you didn’t give him a chance to snap back, and instead put your other hand on his neck as well. 

You rode him with more speed than ever now. His eyes fluttered open and shut slowly, and he leaned into your hands. 

His face flushed, but a dreamy smile spread to the edges of his face as you made sure to leave bruise marks on his throat, still slamming against him. 

Although, you didn’t want to actually break him, so when his face began to turn purple, you let go. He gasped for air and let out a raspy, crazed giggle that went on for too long, and ending in a moan.

“I’m— “ Bills eyebrows furrowed, as if he was trying to decipher what the amusing thing the human body had planned next, “Somethings— somethings happening.”

His voice was broken, neck bruised, cheek red with a slap mark, eyes foggy, and chest bleeding from your nails. 

Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.

Clearly you’d kept your end of the deal, and from what you’ve gathered it was time for the finale. You chased your own climax now as well, even though, admittedly, you hadn’t been thinking about it the whole session.

Annoying as it was that Bill still managed to make something all about him —and he definitely knew, mind reading or not— you still kept up your pace. 

“You’re close?” 

He smiled blissfully, and nodded.

What the hell. You smiled, “Good boy.”

His reaction was… startling. He leaned his head back, let out a small half-whine half-laugh, and arched off the bed. Finally, he released.

[anantaru]

neuvillette eats pussy to distress

cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader

what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.

"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."

"am i correct?"

"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"

the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.

especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.

neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.

your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.

the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds. 

"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."

at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.

but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 4

Logan Howlett + Omegaverse

Feral mutants? Feral mutants. Readers based on a coyote, because I like coyotes, and it feels funny. For once, the reader is on the scrawny short side. I had to look up coyote and wolf behaviours for this, and I still feel like I didn’t do well. My version of omegaverse amongst feral mutants, enjoy.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Logan had been living amongst the pack of wolves for who knew how long. When one lived in the woods, as far away from civilization as they could get, you had a tendency to lose track of time. You noticed the passing seasons, only based on the fact that the pack would migrate to better areas, and that pups would be born. What Logan did notice, was the other feral mutant who’d edge at the borders of his pack’s territory.

Everyone knew that the whole alpha beta omega hierarchy was bullshit when it came to wolves or other animals. But for mutants, it was very real, only feral mutants though. For the most part it didn’t mean anything, only a certain feral edge to the feral mutant, even when integrated into society. But putting two together, could cause problems along the way.

Logan had always prided himself on having a steady mind and having patience, at least when it came to living amongst his pack far away from human stresses. But that stupid feral, the one that reeked of coyote instead of wolf, was getting on his nerves. Especially with how they dragged their alpha scent up against the same trees Logan would mark, as if taunting him.

Logan may have been an omega, but that in no way made him weak, that much was clear with just how much of a heavy hitter he was. His usual patience amongst his pack was hanging on a thread though, and when he finally caught that stupid loner feral marking up the spot logan had just marked, then he saw red.

The other feral was younger than Logan, at least he appeared to be, or maybe that was just his mutation. He wasn’t as hairy, not as muscular, more on the lithe nimble side which made him fast. Which made you fast. The circles you ran around logan, nipping at his sides and thighs, jumping away quicker than he could snap back at you, it was all a game.

It was only when you two had travelled deeper into what Logan registered as your territory that he realized what you had done, or at least he thought so. Logan was used to most wanting to pick a fight, so that was what he got ready for, unsheathing his claws and barring his teeth with a feral snarl. The mutant was left confused though, as instead of charging at him with the intent to kill, you just jumped close, nipped at him some more, and jumped back.

Logan wasn’t really sure what to do with that. Maybe hed spent too much time around people, or maybe he was just too old, but having a young buck like you showing such clear interest was new. Logan had had many partners over the years, don’t get him wrong, but no one quite like you. No one as deeply intertwined in their own feral side as he was, at least nobody that wasn’t an enemy.

But Logan also wasn’t gonna act on what was stirring inside him, without knowing how present you were mentally. He knew from experience that some mutants just withdrew into their mind for their own safety, letting their bodies carry on without them being present. You did seem a little confused when Logan sat back on his haunches, staring you down.

“I’m Logan” he finally grunted out, at least wanting to confirm that you understood. You seemed uncomfortable with talking, having most likely been alone for a long time, but relief did fill his system when you replied back, giving your own name.

Getting down onto your stomach, you start dragging yourself towards him, like a more submissive gesture that you wanted to get closer, you wanted him. So, what if some didn’t like omegas that were bigger and stronger than them, you were a man of refined taste, and Logan was the most delicious omega you had ever seen. Plus, hed allowed all your games for so long, if he had really wanted you gone you would be.

Neither of you really liked talking much, instead just relying on the cloying scents hanging in the air, only growing thicker and headier with time as you finally got up between Logans thighs, your sharp canines digging into the strong muscle of it. It was more a request than anything, and had you had a tail you would have been wagging up a storm, as Logan finally huffed and gave a grumble, before rolling onto his front. There wasn’t much presenting in his position, but you really hadn’t expected that from a guy like Logan either, so you didn’t mind.

As you bit your way up Logans thighs, you finally put your jaws into it, lapping up the droplets of blood that escaped before the bites healed back up again. There wasn’t much need for talk in a situation like this, the only noises you cared about were the ways Logan groaned as you buried your face between his cheeks, lapping at whatever you could reach.

Unlike popular belief, omegas didn’t create slick. You guys were just people, with a little bit of extra. So, it wasn’t like Logan was gonna start slicking up and start popping out pups just because you fucked him. Hell, you didn’t even have a knot, if your dick started growing like that you’d start fearing for your health. So really, the whole secondary gender thing for feral mutants didn’t matter much, outside of some changes in pheromones, hormones, and different preferences. You could easily live normal lives without being an alpha or omega posing any problems.

It was most likely the fact that you two had been up here, far away from everything, that had driven you both into such an instinct fuzzy frenzy, your claws digging into the meat of Logans thighs to hold him still, as he snapped his teeth at the air and growled, grinding back against you.

Neither of you had the patience to work Logan open with your fingers, the pitch of Logans noises letting you know that the older mutant didn’t have all day. So, with a few extra wet swirls of your tongue, you finally pulled back, almost clambering up onto his back.

You were skinnier than him, and much less hairy, but it just made it feel extra good as you glued your chest against his spine, your own puffed growls against his ear as you ground against him. Logan gave another growl, one of his hands reaching back to grab onto your hair and wrenching your head to the side, a snapped “get on with it bub” leaving him, voice thick and dangerous.

And who were you to deny him his request. It took some fumbling with your hips to find where it needed to go, since you didn’t want to unwrap your arms from his torso, hands too busy fondling his hairy pecs. Logan groaned as you finally pushed inside, shoving his hips back against yours to make you hurry up, he wasn’t scared of a little pain.

As you bottom out, Logan could at least appreciate one thing about alphas. They may not have knots, or some kind of powerful alpha voice, but shit were they big, and by god did he like being full, something hed blame on his omega needs.

It may have been cold out, but neither of you could feel it, as your bodies moved in rough desperate ways. The forest floor was torn up by Logans claws as he huffed and groaned, the many clearly not one to just moan for no reason. You on the other hand was struggling, face buried against the back of his neck as you panted and keened. You truly were a greenhorn against a seasoned professional, your lesser experience clear in your quickly depleting stamina.

Had it been any other time Logan might have taunted you a little bit. Maybe a few jokes about you not being able to keep up, but right now he just found himself growling that you couldn’t give it to him as hard as he wanted it. Part of it could probably be blamed on his adamantium skeleton and healing factor, but there was also part of you that was trying to be careful. Both for him, but also to keep yourself from finishing to face.

It was damn near impossible, you almost wanted to cry. He was so tight and hot inside, his growls and scent driving you mad. You wanted nothing more than to bite into his neck and mark him as yours, even if you both knew it didn’t really matter in the long run as your healing factors to wipe away any mark or scars you left. It didn’t keep you from licking at your teeth though, your entire body shaking weakly, trying to keep yourself from tumbling over the edge.

You didn’t stand a chance, as Logan seemed to be able to sense or smell just how close you were. So, like the asshole he was, Logan put more energy into his hips, rolling them back against you until you were keening into his neck, hips stuttering and shaking as you mumble out warbled apologies.

Falling limp against his back, you felt not worth your salt. You had tried to entice him for so long, and here you were bursting not even five minutes in, he must be annoyed with you. Count you surprised when Logan makes you pull out, only to flip you onto your back and sit right back down on you, his grin cocky and dominant in ways you just couldn’t match. “don’t worry, pup, we will work on that” he growled, the noise coming from deep in his chest, as he started bouncing in your lap.

One of his rough hands wiped away your tears of overstimulation, looking almost like he was pitying you for picking a fight you just couldn’t win. Hed have you up to par in no time, don’t you worry.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team

The thing about cheerleaders and the infamous football team is that they’re quite accurate to their stereotypes

Now not every cheerleader team is run by a head girl who’s a massive bully 

Or that the football team is filled with dumb jocks that are just as violent if not worse

But they’re nothing to scoff at 

They’re beautiful

They’re athletic

And they're disciplined with confidence that comes with successful games and competitions

Such perks might give them quite a bit of power

Power that’s doubled when they’re working together

If you’d like to be happy you’re better off not figuring out just yet 

Since your arrival to the University, you’ve noticed more of your things have gone missing

Maybe this move made you more frazzled than you thought

Because you’ve found that you haven’t been able to keep friends like you used to

At least not without some help

“So you’re the new student, huh? Welcome to Energi University. As cheer captain, I’m really happy to welcome you finally!”

As she drags you along throughout your schedule, you’re waiting for the punch line

The moment she switches to embarrass you or smile coyly as she says something underhanded about your appearance

But she doesn’t 

Only twirling her hair as she asks you where you learned to glow like you do

You find it odd but you’re not complaining

Movies taught you that she and her team were top of the food chain 

so if they liked you enough maybe it’d trickle to some friends eventually

“Looking for a partner? Me too. How about we uh work together, freshie. If we finish before class ends you can have my varsity jacket and I can have yours.”

It seems it works as the beefy but beautiful captain of the football team partners up during chemistry

Between the two captains, you think you’re making progress

Finally beginning to make friends

But you couldn’t be farther from the truth

Already you were skipping right into the pitfall that was their playground—Energi University

It started with the cheerleader’s captain, gorgeous, rich, and with a serious attitude problem

She was making her daily rounds with her two main girls

‘Putting the worms in their place’ as she’d report to her team

Until she found something interesting 

a glasses-wearing nerd had been holding a file, scrolling through someone’s social page with such dedication they didn’t even realize they were being cornered

And its not just someone—you

while her girls were exploring the use of pins on the human body, she was going through this fairly thick file

A file all about you

Filled with hundreds of pictures of you some with consent some not

Extensive organized lists of your likes and dislikes

And a neat report on your current whereabouts and social circle

By the end of it, she was intrigued

She’s never been one for reading but she just can’t put it down

Having to be brought back into the real world when her girls are done playing 

“Already? Ugh, let’s go find the next one this little report of his might be worth selling to those stupid jocks.”

That’s just an excuse 

she’s combing over your photos again as she re-reads about the mundane drama in your life

“Babe, I thought you said you wanted to spend time with me? Not lose braincells studying!” 

Her boyfriend–captain of the football team is trying to draw her attention with kisses and inviting touches

But she’s just too focused

Eventually, he’s going to snatch it all away, taking a look at it

“Who’s this? Your latest victim?”

“Puhlease they don’t even know me…yet.”

The nights they spend together is searching you on socials as they filter through these words about your world

There’s just something about you that has them enraptured

For them it’s like when they first started dating, running off from their teams to gush about their latest finds about you

Texting all through the night about schemes to meet you

Whispering on the bus on their way to seasonal competitions

It isn’t long before the nosey teams start poking around

All it takes is a whispered mention of your name and they’re stalking your socials 

Some hire private investigators to tell all they can get their hands on

It’s like a virus how the whole team is eventually letting your distant lovely little life take up all of theirs 

At some point words and posts just aren’t enough

“Yo Cap, why don’t we just get them to come here?”

“Yeah! I know I can get my dad to extend a scholarship and dormitory if something happens at their old school.”

“Hmm, I do still have those lighter fluid canisters.”

“Oooh and I can get them out of the dorms for awhile!”

“Then  we can swoop in and be the knight’s of shining armor they’ll need!”

“C’mon, captain! Let’s bring them home, aren’t you tired of looking at them through the screen?”

“Don’t you think it’d boost our morale for the championship?”

“Yeah!!” Pleaassee!?”

What terrible captains they’d be if they let their teams down now

So the plan is set, you conveniently are stood up on a date when your dorm and campus is burnt down killing so many friends you made+

The mysterious fire destroying their security footage and all your belongings too 

Its natural you start looking for a new college, a safer option

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t you come to our next game? Forget about that horrible fire and cheer us on!”

“Wait how did you know–”

“Grapevine cutie! Now what do you say to a sleepover!?”

“Not after we do our victory party!”

“Oh, you’ll have to try our captain’s famous jello shot! It’s going to knock your clothes+ socks off.”

Both Captains will watch happily as the group swarms you 

Your questions about the slug you made plans with prior were drowned out in their shouting and giggling

Their goal wasn’t to make you worry 

After all, they had the power to dissolve all of that 

The Captains and their teams

“Now that we have them I don’t see any reason, why our teams won’t be planned for an all-around victory in the nationals.”

“Of course, though we could do it without them. Money and pure talent are a given for people like us.”

“Still there’s nothing wrong with sharing a good luck charm.”

“You are absolutely right..”

“Aren’t I always? That being said we’ll have to talk about the…hoarding issue.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. The next time one of your cheerleaders interrupts me, they’ll be dealing with more than broken legs.”

“And your players should know the next time they take my time with (Y/n) away they won’t just become paralyzed.”

[singswan-springswan]

ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased. 

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone. 

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems. 

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching. 

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face. 

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun. 

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer. 

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things. 

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko. 

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

[flamingpudding]

Cats are liquide, so is Daniel

... that's what Damian decided after having watched the other for a while and noticed behavior similarites to Alfred, the cat.

Daniel comes and go like he wants unless you made a set plan with him, the only times he appears for sure where the meals Alfred made sure he attended. Otherwise, good luck finding the other if he doesn't want to be found.

That had irked Damian a lot at first but he had learned to accept it, if not completely willingly but Richard insisted that it was good brotherly behavior of him to not demand to Daniel's location when he doesn't want to be found.

Another thing was that his newly acquired brother purred. Like a cat. Damian would never admit it towards his other siblings. But his efforts in getting along with Daniel tripled when he learned this fact. For one, the switch from calling him Fenton to Daniel gained him a pleased purring. He was not calling him by nickname yet, that was something he would refuse longer until he ran out of tactics to make the other comfortable enough to purr.

But the most common fact that Daniel appeared to have with Alfred, the cat, was that his body must be made of liquid or at least as flexible like a cats. While Alfred, again the cat, found tight spaces like vases, bags, bowls and other things comfortable to rest in, Daniel appeared to show something similar.

Tight spaces, like a cupboard, the nocks between to shelves, the little space between a shelve and the ceilings. If Daniel disappeared he could be found in spaces like that. But what him appear even more liquid like was the was Daniel also tented to rest in more common spaces.

Damian had blinked in disbelieve the first time he found Danial in the common room. One leg on the couch, the other on a side table his back laying on the floor a book in his hands he was reading while his head was under the coffee table. And he though is elder siblings were bad with the way the collapsed couches or other seating spaces at times. How was that comfortable?

Another time Damian had found him sleeping, hanging upside down from a bookshelf in the library with his knees hooked on the top of the shelve. The book he appeared to have been reading like that laid fallen on the floor Daniel's arms hanging down above it and his face was getting a rather red coloring with all the blood gravity was pulling down towards it.

Then, there was also that time he found Daniel curled up in a spare tire of the Batmobile after patrol. How did he even manage to fit in there?

So Damian decided Daniel was a human cat. Because as weird as his family was, this was in no shape or form normal behavior. The fact that he was now finding Daniel napping in the chandelier of the foyer like it was a bed proved it. Not even Richard did that.

Really Damian wouldn't even have noticed it if he hadn't happened to look up. He was going to have a talk with Daniel about this even Alfred, the cat, knew to behave better than this. And if that didn't work, then he would allert his other siblings or maybe he should go directly to Pennyworth with this.

[freelancearsonist]

the mark they saw on my collarbone

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader // series masterlist

➔ 4.4k words

➔ Joel’s instincts kick in when he runs into an omega in trouble along a smuggling route.

➔ Rated MA // a/b/o dynamics and the associated gender politics (alpha!joel and omega!reader), heavy dom/sub dynamics, unprotected piv sex, creampie, fingering, oral (reader receiving), biting/marking, blood, size kink, joel calls reader little one/little thing, mention of reader being food-insecure, alpha!tommy and alpha!tess are here briefly. takes place one year post-outbreak. // reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), is generally able-bodied, is mentioned to be smaller/shorter than joel and can fit into his jacket, is otherwise a blank slate.

Tess’s face perks up halfway over a fallen tree–she stops in her tracks to tilt her nose into the wind. “You smell that?”

Of course Joel smells it. His senses were alerted to it about half a mile ago; he’s always had the better nose. He’s been trying to ignore it, however. There’s no point to giving into temptation in this shattered world, no matter how sweet the scent.

“Whew,” Tommy huffs, wrinkling his nose at the heavy pheromones that now drift around the trio. “Whoever it is, they’re closer than comfortable.”

“Smells like they’re in trouble,” Tess posits–always the thoughtful one. Always wanting to have faith in humanity, no matter how many reasons the last year has given her to lose hope. “That’s an omega. If not in full out heat, then damn near close to it.”

“Ain’t no way there’s an omega out on their own in these woods,” Joel growls. “It’s a trap.”

Tess shoots him a look–worried, stern. “What if it’s not?”

“It is.” He doesn’t even entertain the idea. There’s no way anything is left untainted in this world.

But with every step forward, the scent gets stronger and Joel’s resolve grows weaker. Your scent is so sweet. It reminds him of springtime in Austin, the little yellow sour grass buds and picnics in the park with…

The scar on his temple gives a single little throb, and he forces himself to focus up. They’ve got a clear destination, a contact to meet outside the Atlanta QZ. He needs to keep his head in the game and out of the past. Dwelling on that, on what the world was merely a year ago, is fucking pointless. No matter how much he hopes, how much he dreams, how much he begs and pleads to a god he never really believed in to begin with, nothing brings her back.

The scent makes his stomach churn the stronger it gets. It’s not like any omega he’s ever known before. They’ve all been… a little bitter. Or maybe his ex just left a tainted trace in his nose, spoiled it for everyone else. He’s never needed a partner to feel complete, anyway. Being a father is what gives him purpose. Gave him purpose.

He pushes that train of thought from mind, sets his jaw, and marches on.

The funny thing is, they’ve spent a lot of time in these woods–Tess, Tommy, and him. For as close to the QZ as it is, they’ve never met a single other soul in these parts.

That’s why, when Joel senses your pheromones only getting stronger as they forge on, he thinks about saying something. They’re headed straight towards you, into what must be a trap. The Atlanta QZ doesn’t take omegas; there’s no reason one should be so close. If he was smart, he’d make sure that the group avoids you at all costs. But there’s a deep, primal part of him that forces him to keep his mouth shut just as he’s about to open it and suggest rerouting their journey. He wants to investigate, to find out if you’re really as sweet as you smell.

He can tell Tommy and Tess are thinking along the same lines, and it makes his teeth grit together, eyes pinched in frustration. There’s an underlying possessiveness in every further stride he takes, eyes boring into the backs of his pack members’ heads while he takes position at the rear of the group.

This is why people used to say that alphas couldn’t work together, he realizes. Not that it’s ever been an issue for him before–but he’s never smelled an omega he’s wanted so much before, either. Tommy was always the tail-chaser, before everything went to shit; he was constantly getting himself into trouble, and Joel would constantly bail him out. And Tess… he’s never met an alpha quite like her. He’s never seen her with an omega, either; never bothered asking if she had one before the outbreak. But she’s compassionate, if a bit tough. She doesn’t seem like the main threat right now.

This is what he’s always hated about these god-forsaken roles. He watches Tommy’s pace pick up a little, sees the younger Miller’s nose tilt ever-so-slightly to the wind, and in this moment he sees his own brother as a threat. That’s something that should never have had to happen. But a pack of three, and all alphas… it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe they’ve all been fooling themselves.

It’s been great for them thus far, being able to use each other when necessary without fear of repercussions, but there also hasn’t been an omega in the picture yet. Now, with heavy pheromones swirling invisibly between the three of them, a subtle and silent struggle for dominance starts to rear its ugly head.

The scent only grows stronger, and it makes Joel worry. It’s heady, damn near overwhelming. Joel’s never witnessed an omega so close to heat without actually being in heat. The pull of your pheromones is dangerous–it’ll draw in every alpha within a range of miles, maybe even some from the QZ with how close you are. The range will only grow once your heat actually breaks out. The pack is heading directly towards the source of great danger, and all three of them know it. Even still, all three of them are powerless to stop it.

Joel spots you first. You’re nestled under a tree, sound asleep, half-camouflaged by a blanket of orange and brown leaves. You’re gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe you, and with your pheromones flooding his senses it’s nearly impossible for him to hold back from approaching you.

He reaches out a quick hand and grabs his brother’s arm just as he’s about to step towards you.

“Don’t,” Joel growls from deep in his chest. His eyes dart around quickly, searching every inch of autumn foliage for some sign of the trap this must be. They’ve heard about this exact kind of trap before, and Joel mentally curses himself for falling right into it despite knowing better.

Hardly any unmarked omegas survived outbreak day. Many of the few that did were captured by large groups of malicious betas and put into traps, their heats used to lure in alphas who were then exterminated en masse. Joel and his pack have been lucky not to encounter such a trap yet, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually.

They stand, they watch you, and they wait for the other boot to drop.

But it doesn’t. You sleep peacefully, albeit squirming a little bit, and no one else comes. There’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the distance and wind rustling the bare branches of the trees overhead.

All of a sudden, you wake. Your entire body jolts, nostrils flaring at the heavy and suddenly overwhelming scent of alpha. Your beautiful eyes widen with fear, and Joel sees you're about to make a break for it.

Without thinking, he steps forward and holds a hand out in front of him–a sign of goodwill. “Easy, omega. We ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Your chest heaves with panting breaths, but you don’t move yet. You’re smart, he thinks. You know you can’t outrun all three of them.

“You’re in a spot a’trouble,” Joel continues, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible as he takes another tiny step closer to you. “Could smell your heat comin’ on from miles away. What’s a li’l thing like you doin’ out in the woods all alone?”

“Going to the QZ.” There’s a firmness behind your tone–how brave you are, he thinks. And how stupid. 

“Where you comin’ from?” He asks–prying, but gently.

You look apprehensive, but you answer anyway. “Tennessee.”

“Didn’t do your research, did you sweetheart?” He grumbles as gently as he can. “Atlanta don’t take omegas. You go there, ‘specially in the state you’re in, you’ll be shot on sight.”

He can almost see the gears turning in your head, albeit slowly given your state; you’re wondering if he’s really telling the truth, if you can really trust him. You’re wondering why he hasn’t leaped at you yet.

You gulp and plant your hands in the dirt at your sides as if you’re getting ready to stand, but you don’t move yet.

Tommy takes a quick step forward, and Joel sees the way you flinch at the sharp crack of a twig underneath the younger Miller’s boot.

“Joel–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, a little harsher than he means to. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Tommy. I mean it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whisper, hardly louder than the breeze. And then he sees it–the first pang of heat, your face screwing up in pain and your body squirming uncomfortably on the forest floor. You try not to show it, but Joel catches it anyway. Your heat is here, and his instincts take over.

“Fuck off,” he snarls, stepping firmly between Tommy and you. Tess steps forward, mouth agape in some mixture of shock and confusion, and Joel swivels his burning gaze to her. “Both of you. Fuck off. Go on ahead to Atlanta, I’ll meet up with you there.”

Tess doesn’t look affected, just concerned. “Joel, what the–”

“Go!” He roars. There’s no room for argument, even though Tommy opens his mouth like he might try. In the end, they know there’s no winning. Not right now, not with Joel’s pheromones rising and his eyes so dark. They hesitate just a moment, slowly back away, and then finally admit defeat and vanish into the trees.

Once they’re gone, you don’t try to hide your pain as much. A whimper escapes your lips as you squeeze your thighs together and all pretense falls away.

“You okay, little one?” He drops to his knees beside you so he can give you a better look. It’s clear that the road you’ve traveled has not been easy on you–he’s amazed you’ve survived as long as you have all on your own. You’re disheveled and dirty, maybe even worse off than he is. You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and the simple t-shirt covering you isn’t nearly warm enough to protect you from the chill riding in on the late autumn breeze.

Joel’s quick to rip his jacket off and drape it around your trembling shoulders–he feels a strange surge of pride when you quickly pull the fabric tightly around you and nuzzle your face into the collar for a deep inhale of his scent.

“Talk to me, omega.” His voice is deep, demanding. “You doin’ okay? What can I do to help?”

“Alpha…” Your voice is so quiet, and all he wants is to take you into his arms. But now of all times is not the time to be hasty. As much as he wants you, he refuses to take advantage of you.

“It hurts, alpha,” you continue quietly.

“I know, baby.” The sweet ting of southern accent in his voice seeps into your very veins and warms you from head to toe with each rapid thump of your heart. “How can I help?”

You reach a shaky hand towards him and he meets you halfway, marveling at how small your hand is compared to his paw. He never really considered himself a big guy until this moment, seeing you so small and helpless beside him. Clearly it’s affecting you too–he sees the way your thighs clench tightly together the second he touches you.

“I trust you,” you murmur so sweetly.

For a moment, he considers running. He’s done horrible things with the hands that now hold you so gently. He’s not one to be trusted. He’ll only end up hurting you.

“Your scent’s gonna draw more alphas in, baby,” he coos deeply. “There’s a whole QZ fullav’em just a couple miles away. It ain’t safe to be out in the open like this.”

But there’s no logic or reason left in your gaze–you nuzzle your face into his neck so you can inhale his scent straight from the source, and Joel knows there’s only one way this ends without some worse alpha coming along and hurting or killing you.

“Need you, alpha,” you plead as shiny tears fill your pretty eyes. “Please, it hurts so bad.”

Joel wonders if this is your first heat–it sure seems like it. You’ve probably been on suppressants since the day you presented. Every bone in his body screams for you; screams to take your pain away, to soothe you with his own body, to make you his.

He’s never felt so much like an alpha as he does in this moment, when your heat gets the better of you and you fuze your mouth to his in a searing kiss.

Joel actually moans into your mouth. It’s deep and a little louder than he means to be, caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss but even more by how sweet you taste. Your scent didn’t do you justice, really. He’s never gotten addicted to someone from their kiss alone before, and yet just as suddenly as it started he needs more. He needs to devour you whole, to claim every inch of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else. Even as he licks into your mouth and easily takes control of your mouth with his tongue, he knows this is going to end badly. He also knows that he doesn’t care.

“Sweet little thing,” he coos as he tugs you to straddle his lap. You can feel the insistent press of his hardening bulge against your core, and you grind down so hard he hisses. “Easy baby, I gotcha.”

“Alpha, please…”

“Gotta have some patience, omega,” he tells you firmly. “I’ll take care’a ya, but I gotta getcha ready first. Don’t wanna hurtcha.”

You kind of want it to hurt, you kind of want him to burn himself into your very soul, but you don’t say as much out loud. You probably couldn’t form the words anyway–all that comes from your mouth is a needy little whimper.

“Hush, omega, you’re okay,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back against the fallen leaves, one hand carefully cushioning your head while the other pulls your thigh open so he can slot himself between your legs. “M’gonna make it all better, just gotta be good f’me.”

“Alpha…” You feel the first ounce of relief as he drags your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth motion. Your burning skin is met with cool air and it feels incredible. Nearly as incredible as the sensation of his kisses tracing down your body, even through the fabric of your t-shirt that he leaves in place because he doesn’t want you getting cold no matter how much it feels like you might spontaneously combust if you don’t feel him inside you soon.

“You’re gonna be good for me, arentcha?” He hums against the hem of your t-shirt, just above where you so desperately need him.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathe as politely as you can manage.

His lips latch onto your clit as soon as the words have left your mouth. He knows exactly what you need–none of that torturous rapid flicking that you’ve experienced in the past but firm, honest-to-god, get-the-job-done suction.

He slips a finger into your dripping entrance and it’s honestly amazing that you don’t come right on the spot. Just that one thick finger is a stretch–it makes you arch your hips up off the ground, desperate to get away from the onslaught of pleasure and yet simultaneously wanting more.

“I know, sweetie,” he coos against your clit, slowly curling his finger until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Feels good, doesn’it?”

“Y-yes, oh my–”

He throws all pretense out the window and adds two more fingers, filling you to your breaking point. You shatter without warning as he increases the pressure on your clit, thighs quivering and hips bucking pathetically as your warmth coats his chin. Your entire body wracks as he works you through it, fingers curling against your g-spot as his lips mercifully release your clit with an obscene pop.

“That’s right, baby,” he coos proudly. “So good f’me.”

You’re panting as you come down, satisfied for one beautiful moment even as he pulls his fingers from you so he can kiss his way back up to your mouth.

He slots between your legs so he can lick into your mouth again, and the taste of your own pleasure on his tongue makes everything come crashing back down. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, and you groan out in pain and need for him.

He grunts when your legs lock around his sturdy waist, feet pressing into his ass to grind his heavy, jean-clad cock into your soaked folds. He moans from the very pit of his stomach, surprised at the sudden movement–and then he presses even harder, grinding himself so firmly against your cunt that you swear you can feel the outline of his mushroom head even through the layers of clothing he still wears.

“Tell me you want this, omega,” he pants into your ear, still pressed so tightly to you as he reaches down to tug his belt open. “Tell me to fuck you.”

“Please, alpha.” You’re trying so hard not to sound whiny, but you’re failing miserably. “Please fuck me.”

Joel simply adores how sweetly you ask for what you need. God, he doesn’t even know your name, but it’s taking everything in him not to claim you for the rest of eternity.

Would that really be so bad? Clearly you’re a survivor if you’ve made it this far, and as an omega no less. You could be a valuable addition to the pack.

But really, it’s the thought of having you as a home to come back to that gets him tugging his cock out of his jeans to the symphony of your quiet moans and pleas. He thinks about having a lovingly-crafted nest and the sweetest, tightest cunt he’s ever known waiting for him at the end of a long day, and it takes everything in him not to blow his load right then and there.

He knows he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s willing to be selfish anyway. Just this once.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you look down and see the firm length of him, barely contained in his big hand. He’s thick and weeping precum, tip stained a dark maroon from sitting in his jeans untouched this long. He’s nothing like the betas you entertained yourself with before the outbreak–you’ve never even really seen an alpha’s cock in person, and certainly none this large.

He must see the apprehension in your gaze, because he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can raise your face to meet his dark, brooding eyes. “You tell me if it hurts, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, wanna help you feel better.”

You don’t know why, but you trust him. So you nod, and you tug him into a deep kiss.

The first press of him into your waiting core has your mouth dropping open, head pressing back into the hand that cups the back of your head. He keeps you pressed so firmly against his entire body as he inches in. He’s so attentive, pulling back to watch your face for any sign of discomfort as he rocks his hips, pushing an inch deeper with every shallow thrust until the base of him settles as tightly against you as he can.

He doesn’t find anything in your expression other than pure euphoria.

He kisses you, breathless and messy, as he wills himself to stay still while fully sheathed in your tight heat. Damn it all, he’s fighting so hard for control. He’s never had someone squeeze him so perfectly, so warmly. Your cunt is pure, unadulterated heaven.

“A-alpha,” you whine once you’re ready, but he can’t move. Not yet. You’re his omega, he needs to take care of you, and he’s far too close to spilling himself deep inside your cunt and pressing even deeper so his knot can take root. He could never live with himself if he disappointed you like that.

“Please, alpha,” you try again, and the unrelenting need is what does him in. You need him, not just anyone. No one else could satisfy you how he does–he’s sure of it.

With the first true thrust of his hips, a wave of pheromones rushes over his senses. He basks in the scent of you, nearly high on it, and then the danger of this comes crashing back to him.

He thrusts deep, makes your toes curl and your chest heave, and he asks a weighted question as the pace continues. “This your first heat?”

You nod your head, barely even able to process his words. “R-ran out of s-suppressants.”

Fuck. He knew it. You don’t even seem to realize the danger, the calling card that you’re putting on display for every alpha within a ten mile radius. It’s a miracle that no one has shown up–everyone in Atlanta is probably wise to the trap scheme, luckily. But luck runs out eventually, and someone’s going to end up taking a chance for your delectable scent.

“Others’re gonna smell you, omega,” he growls as he grinds deep. “Ain’t safe to be unmarked out here. They’ll come f’ya.”

The pleasure is unbearable–toe-curling, blood-boiling, thigh-quaking. All you can do is sob and whine as his big cock fucks into you and hits exactly the right spot with every thrust.

“Gotta mark ya,” he continues quietly. “Only way to keep you safe, baby.”

You come out of your reverie a little bit at that; but deep down, you know he’s right. The only way you’ve been able to survive so long was a stockpile of suppressants you were lucky enough to get your hands on. But they’re gone, and with them your chances of surviving much longer. Unless you let this stranger mark you–the most intimate gesture possible.

“Okay,” you breathe against his neck. “Mark me.”

Your cunt clenches unbearably tight around his shaft as his teeth dig sharply into the base of your neck. Your taste floods his mouth, heady and warm–in combination with your legs locked around his waist, he can’t stop it. He’s coming before he can warn you, hot ropes of seed coating every inch of you, seemingly endless. And then, without thinking, he presses that little bit deeper so his knot can fill you to your limit.

You sob at the sensation, nails digging into his shirt-clad back in a feeble attempt to tamp down the overload of pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick knot in your tight cunt.

“Fuckfuckfuck–” he growls into your bitten neck, grinding himself as deep as he can as his cock pulses within your tight walls. “Oh fuck omega, I’m sorry–”

You hush him to the best of your breathless ability as your hands smooth through his sweaty brown hair and down over his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, alpha. You made it so much better.”

There’s a long moment of silence, Joel’s mind swirling with so many thoughts that he can’t focus on a single one. You coax him through it silently, hands smoothing over the fabric of his shirt as your breathing slowly comes.

You’ve never felt so full, so complete. His scent surrounds you and fills you; nothing has ever felt quite so right.

You realize vaguely that he’s licking the blood from the teeth marks on your neck, and you think now’s as good a time as any to give him your name.

He looks up at you, confused for a moment, and then a warm laugh bubbles from his throat. God, he can’t remember the last time he actually laughed. What are you doing to him?

“Joel Miller,” he introduces himself back. “M’sorry, I shoulda started with that.”

His arms are getting shaky from supporting his weight above you, so he grabs firmly onto your waist and rolls smoothly onto his back with you rested snugly against his chest.

“M’sorry,” he repeats again as he feels his swollen knot pulse within you at the slight movement of your hips. “I meant to pull out, I–”

“I wanted it,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m sorry too.”

He gulps, nods once as a hand idly comes up to cradle your head. “I’ve got a guy in the QZ. He can get us a pill. But we’ve gotta be more careful next time.”

“Next time?”

“That was just the first round, baby,” he explains quietly. “Heats can last days, even a week. You’ll need a lot more care ‘fore it’s over.”

“Oh.” You feel so dumb, getting your education from someone whose knot is currently swollen inside you.

“We’ll get a pill,” he promises. “And I’ll pull out next time.”

“You’re… not leaving?” You’ve tried so hard not to have any false pretenses about this. You figured from the get go that he’d leave as soon as his knot went down and you’d never see him again.

He sighs heavily and runs a hand over the patchy brown hair on his chin. “Look, I… you met the rest’a my pack earlier, sorta. There’s just the three of us. We’re not good people, but… we’ll keep you safe. And you seem like you’re able to earn your keep.”

“I am,” you’re quick to assert.

“And I’ve marked you,” he adds. “Can’t just leave ya out here to fend for yourself. You’re my omega now.”

You don’t know why, but the words make your heart flutter.

You and Joel catch up to Tommy and Tess at the edge of the QZ, just in time for the meeting with their contact. Joel had explained to you on the way that it was an old acquaintance, a guy they’d met in Texas shortly after the outbreak who they’d worked with for a few months before he joined up with FEDRA. Now he sneaks supplies out to them in exchange for rarities from the other QZs.

That’s what the pack does, Joel had explained. They’re smugglers–they distribute things illegally between all the different continental quarantine zones.

Tommy and Tess see the two of you coming, and they’re instantly on guard. It only gets worse when Tommy recognizes the brown leather jacket wrapped tightly around your torso to shield you from the breeze.

“Joel.”

Joel tries to ignore Tommy’s call, but there’s not much he can do.

“Joel, what the fuck’ve you done?”

Joel supposes Tommy’s outrage is justified, but he shields you from it anyway. Truth be told, he doesn’t rightly know just what he’s gotten himself into with you.

➔ beta: @futuraa-free (thank u honey i love u)

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

[deathofacupid]

⤷ in which you're the only one soft!sukuna treats this way .ᐟ

soft!sukuna who took forever to say "i love you" for the first time, and thank his ego for that.

when you'd said it for the first time, soft!sukuna couldn't do anything but let his face heat up, avoiding eye contact as if his life depended on it. of course, you knew his nature. you told him he didn't have to say it back, even though (on the inside, at least) you were hoping so much that he would. you just wanted him to know.

and god forbid, once you'd said it that first time, you couldn't stop.

soft!sukuna didn't end up saying it that day, but it didn't really matter. he showed you his love in different ways.

soft!sukuna, who shows you his said love in his own ways, remembers everything about you. the things you said once, then forgot. from your dreams in life to what you had for lunch last tuesday - if it has to do with you, the chances are, he'll remember it.

soft!sukuna who gets up earlier than you do (he doesn't enjoy sleeping in much), and on his morning walk, picks you a single flower from the estate's garden and leaves it on his bare pillow, right next to yours. soft!sukuna doesn't like it when you make such a big deal about it. you see it as you wake up, while he's showering. it's just a flower, in his view, but it makes you happy, so he'll do it for the rest of his life.

soft!sukuna who doesn't really understand human dating customs much, but he'll go along with it - well, most of the time. for example, when you first met him, you wanted to take it slow, so you went on some "test" dates. soft!sukuna was going to make you his anyways, so he thought to entertain it.

the idea of going on "dates" – pre-mating trials to assess compatibility, seemed odd to him. what he wanted, he got. there was no "testing" of anything.

you and soft!sukuna who had some communication issues at the start. he didn't get indirect communication - subtle cues, body language, or "reading between the lines" to express interest or disinterest. soft!sukuna never had a problem with saying what was on his mind, but for you, some things you didn't think really had to be said.

soft!sukuna who's the single most possessive and jealous man you've ever known. somebody looked at you the wrong way? they're a waste of space. he'll dispose of them later. or, hey, did their tone sound a little off? doesn't matter, they should've known better. maybe next time. oh, wait - there won't be a next time.

in fact, this one time, when a guy hit on you at the bar, you had to drag him out, begging and pleading him to not resort to murder.

soft!sukuna who can't bring himself to say no to you, because that pretty little pout tugs on his heart-strings. he thinks it's pathetic, how you've hexed him.

instead, all he can manage is huffy, begrudged "fine."

soft!sukuna who loves cuddles so much. he loves when you rub his back or stomach, not that he'd ever verbally say so. he may be soft for you, but there's still pride.

instead, whenever you're on the bed, he'll look at you a certain way, and you'll know what to do. he loves your touch, so soft and gentle. soft!sukuna has never had anything like it before. he doesn't know how he's lived all this time without it.

soft!sukuna who can be very blunt at times, unintentionally hurting your feelings. he doesn't mean it, he's just not used to being careful with his words. he never says sorry, but the second you get that pained expression in your eyes, mouth parted slightly, soft!sukuna is basically on his knees apologizing. it's nothing short of humiliating, to him, but he'd rather be humiliated than apart from you.

soft!sukuna who said those three words to you, for the first time, during an argument. you'd wanted him to start killing less, you couldn't bear all the lost lives of the innocent. he didn't like that very much. either way, it had escalated quickly.

but the second soft!sukuna saw those tears sliding down your cheeks, he had pulled you flush against his chest, murmuring soft apologies.

"okay, okay. don't cry. i'll do what you want. i love you."

how they slipped out so naturally, as if he weren't planning on saying it in the first place, it surprised the both of you. but when you looked at him, eyes wide with both love and shock, he decided it was the right thing.

soft!sukuna didn't regret it at all.

because both for and to you, soft!sukuna was the sweetest, most gentle man you'd ever known.

all banner credits to @anitalenia and @dollywons .ᐟ

[short-honey-badger]

Favor of the Gods

Summary: Your village sacrifices a human offering to the god of War and Booze, Shanks, every five years. This year, it's your turn.

Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, drinking, cunnilingus, blow jobs, rough sex, aftercare, dirty talk. Shanks is so greedy.

Masterlist

“Oh, you're prettier than the others that your elders have given me before.”

Shanks smirks down at you, dark eyes raking over your body, covered only by a cream, sheer fabric. It wrapped around your breasts and thighs just enough to cover your indecency, but the god would much rather see you bare before his eyes. He watches you twitch, your eyes round in awe and fear.

“What? Cat got your tongue, little one? Am I just too much for you to gaze upon?” He coos with a prideful grin. He crouches in front of you, reaching out to grab you by the jaw, tilting your face this way and that. You are rather beautiful, all smooth, soft skin that the god plans to ruin.

“Mhm. Well, if you don't want to talk, then how about we put that mouth of yours to use?” Shanks sneers, and his hand drops from your face to grab his trousers and shove them down enough that his cock and balls spring free. He laughs when he sees your eyes widen, cheeks flushing and that fear spreading.

“Don't be frightened, sweet thing. It's easy. Just open your mouth, and I'll do all the work.”

It takes a second, but Shanks isn't so impatient as to rush you too much, but then your jaw drops and the god groans in appreciation when you lean forward to give the tip of his dick a kitten lick. Shanks strokes the base of his cock, precum already leaking from the tip in his excitement, before he takes a half step forward and shoves his cock down your throat.

The god hisses when you gag around him, your throat like a vice around his cock, milking him for all your worth. He feels you choke and sputter, tears sliding down your face to mix with the spit that leaks sluggishly down your chin.

“Fuck, you're even better than I thought you'd be, love. I bet you love sucking my cock, huh? Worshiping your god the only way you need to, on your knees.”

His pace is brutal, cockhead bruising your throat, and making your fight for each breath of fresh air. Shanks drops his hand to your head, fingers tangling in your hair to better hold you still as he pushes his hips forward. He laughs again when you whine and whimper, your nose pressed flush against his crotch and buried in the wiry red hair dusted around his cock.

“Gonna keep you like this forever. Maybe even give you a little of my magic, huh? Make sure that you'll never be able to leave me. Ugh- fuck, you'd love that wouldn't you? Being my personal cum slut forever?”

He is close, that hot tension twisting into a knot in his lower belly, his balls tightening as his pace stutters. Shanks grits his teeth, thrusting forward once, and then twice more before he cums down your throat with a snarl.

You look even better when he pulls away, cock slipping from your throat with an obscene noise. You look up at him, breathing harshly through your nose to try and calm yourself from the sudden assault. Your god grins down at you, hand catching your jaw and stroking your soft cheek with his thumb.

“Such a good, sweet girl. It's a wonder I hadn't just stolen you for myself.”

He leans in, dark eyes narrowing down at you, “Where have you been hiding?”

Once more, Shanks doesn't give you enough time to try and even formulate an answer. Instead, the god releases your jaw and offers you his hand.

“Meh. I guess it doesn't really matter now that you belong to me. Come along, little one. I want to see how devoted you are to me.”

~~~

Your moans and sweet whines are like music to the god's ears. His cock pistons in and out of you, dark eyes locked onto the apex of your thighs where he watches his cock disappear into your leaking cunt. Shanks lays on his back, heavy lidded as he watches you bounce on his dick. You face away from him, giving the god an excellent view of your plush ass and the way your pussy lips quiver each time he hits that spongy spot deep inside of you.

Shanks trails his hand up your thigh and then around the globe of your ass where he rubs the smooth flesh gently before pulling away and striking down. The smack is just enough that your hips jump forward, head hanging forward as your hand clenches in the sheets of the massive bed the two of you lay on.

Your god does it again, this time a bit harder, and he smirks when he sees the red hand print left behind. He rubs your abused cheek, thumb drifting down to play with your folds, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth before he sneaks his hand down. His fingers find your clit, and a hiss leaves him when you tighten around him at the touch.

“So tight around me, baby. Made just for me,” Shanks murmurs, and then he shifts up. His arm curls around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder and kiss your cheek. He sees you crack your eyes open and grins when he catches your gaze.

“Do you love me, little one? How long have you prayed to me? Worshiped me?” Shanks whispers, and the thought of you in his temple, head bowed as you prayed to him, made his cock twitch. The thought is a heady one, and the god would see to it that he would get what he desired.

You jerk your head in a nod, words stolen from you when Shanks snaps his hips up, cock shoving against your cervix and making you see stars. His hand goes up, fingers pinching a nipple before they find a home by wrapping them around your neck. He squeezes just enough to have you gasp, eyes going wide as you look at him in fear.

Shanks kisses your cheek again, the action sweet compared to how roughly he begins to fuck into you. He's felt you come at least three times, but he wants one more out of you before he fills you up.

“Come for your god, little one. Let me feel it.”

His words seem to do this trick, for you cry his name and tighten around him to the point of discomfort. Creamy slick floods around his cock, leaning down your thighs to stain the sheets below. The god curses and follows you over the edge, hot cum filling you to the brim to leak out and join the mess between your thighs.

~~~

Shanks watches you sip from the shallow saucer, a groan leaving you at the taste of warmed saki sliding down your throat to settle in your stomach. His head is pillowed on your thigh, face so close to your cunt that he could lick your sticky folds if he so chose too. Your pussy tasted better than any drink, and Shanks had found himself drunk off your slick.

Thinking about it makes him want it, so Shanks tips his head to the side and opens his mouth. You shudder in pleasure when his tongue slides along your lower lips, pressing past then to lap at your leaking hole. Your hand falls to his red hair, urging him closer to your pussy.

Shanks loses himself, face buried between your legs as he eats his fill from your cunt. You shake and shiver under him, eyes glazed over with lust and the approaching buzz from the saki. Your body had relaxed even further with the alcohol, leaving you warm and pliant to whatever Shanks wanted from you.

His lips seal over your clit, the god gently suckling the throbbing bud. A look of contentment spreads across his face, and your slick covers the lower half of his face when you come a couple seconds later with a soft cry of his name. He sucks just a little longer, until you beg him to stop, and only then, does he pull away from between your legs.

Shanks sits himself up, and you open your arms for your god to rest against your bosom. He snuggles against your chest, arm draped around your waist as he gazes up at you with dark, possessive eyes. You smile down at your god and offer him your cup. While Shanks sips from the offering, he can't but think about how much he likes the thought of worshiping you instead.

[mistymisfit]

short hurt/comfort blurb

summary: reader is taken as hostage, Red Hodd comes to save her (roughly I'll write a better summary later lol)

wc: 2k

warnings: fem!reader, pre-established relationship ,reader being kidnapped (duh) and drugged, one nasty comment from the intentionally vague bad guy, mentions of blood, lots of violence, guns, etc, etc. (not beta read as always, so ill fix typos tomorrow lol) and non sexual nudity !

a/n: lowkey hate how this turned out, but have this as I'm finishing an actual fic.

You were cold, you have been cold for a while now. You don't know how long it's been or why you were kidnapped to begin with. They've always kept you in the same dark room, there are no windows and no light except for the one that shines through the space between the door and the floor. Your hands were chained in front of you to the floor, and they left some fabric tied around your mouth to keep you from screaming. Not like you had any strength in you to even do anything but hope and pray Jason could find you soon. You discarded the theory of it being human trafficking after the first few hours since they never touched you. In fact, you hadn't even seen the face of your captors. You've only heard faint voices in the distance, just enough to identify their accent but not enough to decipher what they said.

Or that was until you heard an argument right outside the door. One man, who sounded older, was chastising the other. You hear the words "die" and "overdose", but it is hard to keep your focus. Your own thoughts feel slow, having come to the realization way too late that they'd probably drugged you, and that's why your body felt so heavy. Then the door opens, and you have to close your eyes because it feels like the light is burning them. You barely manage to move your head away when some hands grab your shoulders. They sit you on the floor and shake you, and you want to react, but your body's barely able to move on its own.

"Kid? You alive?" One of them asks, and when they get no answer, they resort to shaking you harder. When that doesn't work either, a heavy hand delivers a hard slap to your face.

To that you finally let out a pained grunt, and you blink slowly until you open your eyes. The younger one sighs in relief, and the older says something about their boss killing them if you were dead. That leads you to believe you were there for a reason, maybe they found out you technically work with Red Hood and they're using you to get to him. Or worse, they found out you were dating.  

"That's it, stay awake" He lays you down on the floor again.

"What are we doing this for?" The younger one asks. He looks on edge, shaky with nerves. It may be his first time henching, or so you could guess.

"Dunno, boss told us to keep an eye on her until he needs her"

You're left again in the dark before you can even process what they looked like. And you're slightly grateful for it, at least your head didn't feel like exploding once they shut the door again. It feels like an eternity passes while you're still in that room. So you try to notice all the details you can, there's no traffic noise or any other type of noise for that matter. Once you get used to the dark, you also see the small puddle forming from the leak coming through the ceiling. Then you also try to remember how you got there, you were leaving... someplace, it's all fuzzy. But you do remember the hard blow to your head, and then waking up here.

You guess it must have been a couple of hours, that just felt longer to you, when you hear some commotion outside. Running, and clicking, probably from loading guns. The gunshots came later, and did not stop for long. The noise was incessant, along with yelling and words you couldn't make out. You weakly managed to curl up and cover your ears with your hands. And you stay tense in that position until you hear the creak of the door once more. You don't dare to move even when you hear the footsteps getting closer to you.

"Not a step closer" A man grabs your hair, pulling you up, and pressing the nuzzle of his gun to your temple. It feels hot against your skin, almost burning, so you could only assume it's been fired recently. You finally lay your eyes on Jason, or rather Red Hood, he's covered in blood, and you could swear his eyes were shining red under the hood and domino mask.

"Let her go" He's practically barking, you know he gets like this when he's scared. He starts attacking even when he's backed against a corner. You wouldn't notice, but he immediately recognized your lost gaze and weakened mobility. It was like seeing his mother all over again. And that, along with the red imprint across your face, made him even angrier.

"You sure she only works for you?" He taunts, and before Jason can do anything, he presses the gun harder into you as if daring him to try to make a move. "'cause if I had such a hot piece of ass on my payroll..."

You close your eyes tightly, tears falling from them. You're sure you hear Jason replying, telling him off, but you're too scared to pay attention to anything but the metal on your skin. That is until he uses it to push down the fabric against your mouth, he probably asked you something you didn't listen to.

He laughs, and adds: "Maybe my guys gave her a little too much to keep her calm"

Jason is about to explode with anger, the way he talks about you, and what he's done to you. The way he so easily messed with his people, his territory, and with his partner out of everyone. He'll make sure to make an example out of him for anyone who decides to mess with him in the future. So when the man pulls the trigger, only for a click to come out of his weapon, you let out a sigh in relief. And Jason charges at the guy, dragging him away from you and out of the room to deliver the beat down of his life. Hitting as hard as he could until he made sure the guy would stop breathing, and making it as painful as possible. Then, for good measure, he empties what's left of his magazine on his head and multiple parts of his body. The body's beaten beyond recognition, and now he's got even more blood splattered over him. But him, and everyone who works for him, were now dead, so at least you could rest assured no one could harm you and go unpunished.

He goes back, only to find you curled up once more, and holding your head. You flinch when his hand touches you, but he tries not to take it personally, he reminds you it's him and that you're okay as he unties the black bandanna pulled down on your neck. He removes the muzzle from his face and pulls down the hood when you raise your head to look at him, giving you a reassuring nod.

"Get me out of here" You beg, pulling on your chains. He nods, picking the lock as quick as he can. You cling to him once you're freed, and he notices how despite your effort, your grip is weak. Even when you pull on his clothes to get him close enough to kiss him.

He freezes for a second before tightly holding the back of your head with one hand, the other resting on your back to support you. He shouldn't, he should stop you and tell you to do this when you're in the right head space so he wouldn't feel as if he was taking advantage of you. But being so close to losing you, he can't find the will to tell you no. And he melts into your lips, red smearing both of you now. Violence is rewarded with affection, that's a first for him. You don't seem to care about what he's done to get to you, all that matters is that he did, and now you're with him.

"I'll take you to the ER" He runs his hand up and down your back to soothe you, but you start sobbing into his blood-soaked clothes anyways.

"No, no, please," you shake your head "I just wanna go home"

He agrees with just a nod, picking you up as he tries to shield you from seeing the bloodbath he left on his way to you. If anyone knew how to take care of a person in your state, it'd be him. The gruesome scene and trail of bodies were bound to get him in deep family trouble, but he couldn't seem to care about it. Not when it assured your safety. Once he's made sure you're holding tightly and buckled your helmet right, he speeds to his nearest safe house. Regretting getting there in his bike instead of a car, even if it allowed him to get there faster.

"I know you said home, but I can't risk anyone following-" He rambled while taking off your helmet.

"I get it" You cut him off, trying your best to smile and not look like you were about to throw up.

He's quiet leading you up to the apartment, it's an old building and it looks more or less abandoned. That's probably why he picked it, no nosy neighbors. The place is on the first floor, luckily since it had no elevator. Even though he still carried you up the stairs, and only set you down when you were in the bathroom.

"Right, I'll wait outside " His eyes avoid you as he leaves some clean towels near the shower.

"Wait,"Your voice is meek, almost scared. You stop him from leaving by hooking a finger on one of his belt loops  "stay with me, what if I pass out?"

He nods, helping you pull up your shirt. You look up at him, not uttering a word but willing him to take the mask off. Luckily, he understands your staring and does so, leaving it on the floor next to your discarded clothes. Then he kneels in front of you, pulling your pants down, and you hold onto his shoulders as you step out of them. You mouth a quiet thank you when he looks up to you, right before he leaves a soft kiss on your hip and then on your stomach. His grip on your waist feels desperate, clinging not to let you go ever again.

"I'm okay," You reassure, but when his eyes meet yours again, they're brimmed with tears. You untie the bandages around his forearms, guiding him to take his clothes off too.

Jason's trying really hard not to cry right now, and you know it so when you walk in the the shower you turn your back to him to give him some space. But don't fail to notice how the water running down the drain turns red when he kisses the top of your head and stays close to you. He does a great job of gently cleaning you up, and so do you, washing the blood off him once you do turn around. You don't say anything about it or the bruised knuckles or any other bruise for that matter. He's thankful for that, thankful he didn't lose you or that you haven't opposed his methods. You stay under the warm water for a little longer after you're done, holding on to him and breathing slowly as his hand soothes you by tracing circles on your back.

"Jay?" You look up to him.

"Hm?"

"It's not your fault"

"I know," He replies, and you immediately think liar, you do think it's your fault. But don't have the will to argue with him, yet, so you settle for leaving a kiss on his bicep. "You wanna go to bed now?"

"You'll lay down with me?" He hums in response, closing the faucet behind you.He wraps you in a surprisingly soft and warm towel, then helps you dry off and put on some of the spare clothes he kept there. For the rest of the night, he'd watch you until you get down from whatever they gave you, make sure you don't stop breathing or choke on your own vomit. He'd worry and insist on breaking up tomorrow when you feel better and have the strength to argue and call him an idiot for it, when you are able to think better than him and insist you'd always be safer with him rather than without him.