#ANOTHER ONE GOIN INTO MY COLLECTION >:]

[hoshigray]

˙⋆✮ FIRST PERSON SQUIRTER.ᐣ.ᐟ ✮⋆˙ | jjk men

꩜ᯅ꩜ choso, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna & toji × how they deal with a squirter!?

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences (true form! kuna) - kissing/making out - thigh-riding - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - sqůirtǐng (ofc) - facesitting - Daddy kink - 69 + doggy style + full nelson positions - overstimulation - clitoral play (grinding + swiping + pinching) - praising - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, cutiepie, good girl, little thing, etc.) - degradation + humiliation - mention of blood and drool/spit.

word count: 5.3k

a. note: goin on a trip next week, so i leave y'all with this until the next one ☆ enjoy !!

ᯓ꩜ Chōsō Kamo

You giggled. “You ready, baby?”

He smiles back. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”

Having a partner willing to try new things with you is undoubtedly a blessing. Wouldn’t you want to try anything and everything with your partner—learning new things and sharing experiences with the person you love and cherish the most in this globe? 

It adds to your trust in one another – an exchange enhances the companionship…even if it’s in the bedroom!

“Okay, Choso, get ready.”

Your boyfriend nods from below you, watching from between your thighs as you descend your lower half where his face is, and the two of you moan once the lips of your labia land on his awaiting tongue.

This was all your idea, by the way: you’re the one who pulled on Choso’s shirt as you two watched the television from his bed, his caramel eyes drifting to you after grabbing his attention. It was difficult to ask at first, stumbling with your words as this embarrassing request isn’t something you make regularly. Once you got your words out, it wasn’t surprising to see your boyfriend a little flustered as you were. 

However, that didn’t stop him from accepting it – albeit bashfully – confidently, igniting a colossal quirk of happiness to affect the glow of his bedroom. So, here you two are, putting this new experience to the test. 

“Mmmm, oh God,” you purr with chewed lips, fighting the urge to swing your hips as Choso mouths you. 

Choso has his hips on your waist to keep you steady as he does his work, using his lips and tongue to please you in this new position. His tongue swims around your inner labia, the folds coated with your wetness mixed with his saliva. You exhale through your nostrils, your thighs sluggishly move to have your man attend to the surface, and you mewl at the flick of your clitoris. Oh shiiit…!

Having you on top of him like this was not something the brunet expected, thinking this would be a lazy day to hang out with his cute companion on this slow Friday. However, to have easy access to taste your fluids within his vicinity in this erotic position...he’s starting to like it a little too much. 

“Ohhh, my God, Choso,” you shrill with a gasp. “You’re so good…Feel so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He questions below your waist, poking your clit with his tongue. “You like riding my face?” 

He can’t see it, but you nod impetuously. “Yessss! Yees—Shhaaah! Fuck, your tongue…!” You lick your lips and bite as you bring your waist lower, his nose bumping on your clit. “More, give me moreee…!”

“Heh, sure thing,” he titters at your enthusiasm as his hands curl to your buttocks, bringing you further down to his level. You whimper as he sucks on your vulva with purpose, lapping his tongue around to tease your entrance before he pushes it in. Here is where Choso changes the atmosphere, fucking you with his tongue and collecting more of your essence to drink. All you can do is wail and swing your hips faster, and your boyfriend quickly catches the rhythm. Shit, tastes so good…!

“Uhhgg, feels so fucking good—Mmmaa!” Holy hell, this was too much! There’s so much going on underneath you outside your control, only having the command of your waist to influence. Your thighs jiggle as you resort to bouncing on your boyfriend’s face, and your hands ball on the comforter the two of you lay on. 

Choso’s tongue goes frantic, wiggling the wet muscle around your insides and pulling you in to sink more into your overwhelming taste and smell. The more you bounce on his face, the more his nose hits your clitoris, your bud sending shocks up to your head to enlighten the exhilaration! Faster and faster you go, the same for the tongue lapping all over your vulva and sucking on you purposely. 

“Choso..!! Cho—shiiiit—Chosooo!!” You cry out with trenched brows and closed eyes, electric shocks spiraling all over your body with all the growing pressure. 

Your body then gives in, and you let your essence out of your system. Your fluids shower all over Choso’s face as you come on his tongue; your boyfriend is not swayed by the liquid hitting his face, just focused on slurping your wetness covering your cunt. Quivers force your thighs to jolt, jerking your whole frame as you let the waves of your orgasm hit until everything relaxes.

And when it does, you sigh heavily and lift your ass. Choso watches the sight before him, his spit blended with your come all within your inner thighs. The heat from his face spreads to his ears — oh, he hopes he doesn’t get addicted to this.

“Oh my God, Choso,” your boyfriend snaps to your call. “Your face, it’s all wet!”

“Hm? Oh!” It takes a second to realize that he is utterly drenched with your satisfaction, scoffing with a smile. “Guess we both got a bit too excited.”

You chuckle as you leave to grab a hand towel from his bathroom. “I’m sorry about that!”

“It’s okay,” Choso takes off his shirt, which was damp on his collar, and accepts the towel you give him. “As long as you’re feeling good up there, I don’t mind drowning a bit for you, sweetie.”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re not funny.”

ᯓ꩜ Nanami Kento

Nothing puts the cherry on top of a hard day at work for Nanami than coming home and being pulled into your arms.

“Nnnmm, Kento, you feel so good…”

…And loving on him more affectionately.

You practically dragged your man into the living room, peppering him with smooches in your glee that he had returned home safe and sound, and he chortles as you beckon him to sit on the couch with you. The two of you winding down while watching the television, Nanami relaxing with a nice cold beer and taking off his necktie and blazer.

However, he’s unaware of you glimpsing through your peripheral, looking intently, sliding his tie off his collar and unbuttoning his shirt. You notice the sneak of his exposed collarbone, drifting your gaze to something else only for it to land on his pants. Lips flatten at the sight of his thighs; his hand patting on it makes you stare longer than intended, swallowing thickly to quench a dry throat. 

He was taking a swig of his beer, watching the motion of his Adam’s apple with intent. Your fingers fiddling with the bottom of your sundress can’t jurisdiction your thoughts anymore, wanton desires stacking up and soon to fall like dominoes. 

And when it does fall, you silently stand and walk in front of Nanami, the blonde noticing you come around to obstruct his view of the TV. “My love?” You don’t answer. “Something’s wrong?” No words yet…but you lift your dress, mocha eyes pinpointing to the cute design of your cotton thong. “Sweetheart…” you move to sit again, but not back on the couch—nope—instead, his pant-clad thigh, straddling the firm muscles, and your arms come around to cup his cheeks.

“Kento,” you finally speak, whispering for only his words to pick up. “I missed you.”

If there was one thing that could pull Nanami’s heartstrings, it was you – his pretty wife. So, when you express your love for him, of course, he has to reciprocate tenfold.

“Ooooo, yesss, Ken…please, go faster…Mmmph.”

You stay atop Nanami’s thigh, grinding your labia on his pants to the point that a damp spot is prominent in the tan color. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he’s the one who slid your thong for his fore and middle finger to swipe on your clitoris. The touch is pleasant, fueling your waist to keep moving. With your back to his chest, he kisses you passionately from behind. Your sweet tongue meets his, influenced by the taste of alcohol, a strange combination that surprisingly gets the kiss steamier. 

Nanami chews on your bottom lip, having you whimper so sublimely that shivers crawl his spine, sucking on your tongue as your hips go faster. Jesus Christ, the friction from grinding on the material of his pants feels so good, nestling in between your folds nicely and faintly bumping on your clit. However, that is for your husband’s fingers, tweaking the bud you perk to your tippy toes. Hahhh, so good!

“Mmmm, shit,” the golden-haired man curses under his breath before taking your lips into his again. “Come here, angel.” He slams his lips to yours, and you don’t plan to leave his taste as you throw your head back. One arm lifts your legs by the knees, the free hand having more access for him to stick his middle finger into your wetness.

You moan into his mouth, allowing your husband to please you with his fingers rubbing your inner texture. It starts slow until he adds the ring finger, dialing the pace for his fingertips to scratch onto places you could never reach. A hand finds his hair, his neat locks now getting disheveled because of you. 

“Puhaah, ohhh, shit!” You shrill with puffy lips while Nanami kisses your cheek and chin, all the while his digits are brushing up on the upper wall of your vagina — you almost lose balance. “I’m close…!”

The magic words let Nanami know to keep doing what he’s doing, sucking the skin of your neck while shoving his fingers until his very knuckles. The clamp of your walls is sensational, addicting to the point that he doesn’t want to get his digits out yet — not until your high comes to an end.

And that doesn’t sound impossible; you scream as if you don’t have neighbors between your apartment, a watery liquid ejecting out of your glands and showering all around. Sprinkles of your clear juices hit the palm of Nanami’s hand and thigh, adding more stains to his pants to worry about.

 Your heaving body slowly relaxes as your orgasm rattles your bones, Nanami laying more pecs on your beautiful skin as he permits your quaking legs to touch the floor again. Yet, you jerk when your toes feel something wet, snapping out of your daze and realizing what a show you made.

“O-Oh, my—“ you try to stand, but Nanami’s quick to catch you as your body is still under the shocks of your crescendo. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kento, I messed up your work clothes.”

“No worries, I need to do laundry tomorrow anyway.” The blonde chuckles to your ear and kisses you again, massaging your waist. 

“In that case…would you mind if I dirty your clothes some more?” Your butt presses up on the tent of his groin — which has been getting firmer and firmer once the man stuffed his fingers in you. “I’m sure you’d get some fun out of it.”

He raises a sandy brow with a smile. “Would I, or would you, since you’re the one who came onto me?”

“…A bit of both.” You both share a laugh as Nanami carries you bridally to the bedroom.

“Then I don’t mind at all.”

ᯓ꩜ Gojō Satoru

“Mmmm, can never get over this view~.”

“Can you stop commenting about it?!”

“Whaaat? I can’t say I admire my cutie’s beautiful ass in front of me?”

“You’re so annoying…” you grumble as you sigh and begin to lick the tip of his cock.

It’s been a while since you and Gojo had a good 69 session. He is busy being the strongest sorcerer of the modern era and being a full-time teacher, and you go through your day-to-day life swarmed up with work and routine. Lack of time to spend together is an onerous task to execute outside of sleeping and snoring in your shared bed.

But alas, when you two are finally resting and enjoying each other’s company this weekend, it’s a no-brainer that you two will end up skin-to-skin action sometime today. 

You straddled atop Gojo, your ass facing him while his lower half was to your front, your hand stroking his length cock, following the curve up to the pink tippy top. The sight of precum starting to pool and spill over down your fingertips makes your cheeks hot, and the heat between your legs causes a twitch.

Gojo, however, grins before he kisses your labia, welcoming his tongue that invades the space between your folds. You moan as you stuff your mouth with his cockhead, treating him with peppered licks and sucks as you keep jerking him off. Fucking hell, his dick is just so lengthy, hitting the back of your throat with ease that you have to remind yourself to relax to not gag.

Lazy licks are dawned on your wet chasm, lapping from the clit up to the other end. He notices the subtle quakes of your thighs as he tongues you down and has him chuckle as he pushes his face into your frame more, his hands curling to cup your ass so he can fondle the flesh.

You mumble on his dick after he flicks your clit. “Mmmph…! Hmmmm…” Sucking on his shaft, you bob your head up and down to get accustomed to the limb. Climbing back up to the tip where you suck on it roughly with hallowed cheeks after drizzling it with saliva. 

“Oh shiiit,” the white-haired man’s head hits the headboard of his bed, moaning at the attention you’re giving his cock. “So good at this, angel,” he coos as his hands curl to the front to massage and lightly pat your asscheeks like drums. “Missed this.”

“Mmmm, mmmahh…!” The tip leaves your lips, and you’re quick to keep stroking him as you lick around his crown. “Fuck, so big…”

“Well, thank you, baby,” he knows you’re probably rolling your eyes at that comment, chortling to himself. “Means a lot hearing that from someone who keeps winking at me over here.”

“Pfft, you’re so gross,” you top his cockhead to the flat of your tongue, blowing on it to make your tall partner shiver under you. “So full of yourself.”

“Mmmm, maybe so,” you whine as Gojo blows and sucks on your inner labia. “But you can’t blame me for that, right?”

“What…ever,” your feet come around and pulls his face back to your ass. “Just shut up and use that tongue—since you’re so confident.”

“Heh, so pushy.” But the thing is, Gojo is confident – narcissistically so. You saying that only probed him to flip a switch, and you’re unfortunately on the receiving end of his wrath. 

Gojo’s tongue goes erratic, swishing around your vulva as if you can’t keep up with one lap after the other. Your waist goes to lift your ass away — fat chance, as his hands return behind your butt to keep you on him the entire time. The vibrations of his humorful laugh are felt in the very nerves of your folds.

You whimper aloud, the hand jerking his cock, straying off its rhythm as your body submits to the pleasure going around your lower half. He inserts his tongue into your opening, fucking your slit with pushes and pulls. He sucks your wetness with his mouth, and the hands placed on your ass grip on the flesh that has you standing on your very palms.

“—Khhh..! W-Wait, Satoruu, stop!” You cry, but the tall man only smacks your ass mischievously, having you clamping on his tongue without your conscience. “I-I said waaait!!” No signs of waiting as he stuffs his face further between your thighs; noises of him slurping your vulva sound so wrong!

Oh, my fucking God! Your legs tremble, a sign that you’re trying everything you can to alleviate. However, Gojo’s grip on you doesn’t make it an easy battle, latching onto you with vigor. No, wait, wait, stop i—“Ahaa—ahhhnn!!��

It’s no use; the fluid you release slips past your control, spraying out of the urethra and showering all over your thighs and Gojo’s lower jaw and neck. Your body yields, losing balance and slumping your whole body on top of your boyfriend as you come on his tongue and drizzle all around the space of your lower half. Shocks and quivers travel up your spine to your head to pound, leaving Gojo to keep lapping and swishing on your wet slit in victory. 

“Mmmm, aahhhshit, so good…!” He blinks with hooded eyes as he licks his lips and spits on your vagina to lick slowly. “Taste so good…”

“Hahhh, ahhh, I..I told you to,” you stand on your elbows and look behind. “To…wait, dummy!”

“You told me to shut and use my tongue!” He backfires, not relenting even after sending your half-lidded glare. You groan and turn back to suck on his pink tip in defeat. “Fuck, love it when you’re all wet like this…and lucky me for being in the splash zone as you—Oww!”

You smack on his nuts. “You’re so annoying!”

ᯓ꩜ Getō Suguru

“Suguruuu…! Don’t do th–Ahhht!”

“Ahhhh, you sound so cute, baby.”

Geto plows you from behind, watching you grip the armrest of the couch as your butt is propped up and your face buried to hide yourself…Quite a futile attempt, if he says so himself, but adorable nonetheless. 

Fucking in the living room wasn’t part of the daily routine today, yet here you two are. His hands grab hold of your waist as he conceals his girthy cock inside your tight cunt, stuffing every inch of him till the very hilt meets the lips of your outer lips. 

Your breath is shaky as Geto’s hips move to and fro, sighing at the sensation of your tensed walls around him. You always felt way too fucking good, biting his lip to fight the urge to let his waist fly and piston himself right into you. And he enjoys the way you act as he teases you, the position giving him ideas on how to torment you idly. 

Like now, as he skims a thumb around your asshole. The action of having you contract on him even more. “Nnnn! Nnooooh, don’t play with my ass…!”

“You sure? It’s been winking at me for a minute.” He chimes with a sly smile, licking his finger and switching his thumb to lather your hole with his saliva. Holy shit, the way you’re twitching around him is driving him nuts, as he hasn’t even put anything in yet. 

“Do-Don’t say it like that!” You peer over your shoulder with furrowed brows, meeting the purple eyes that catch you. His hips go excruciatingly slow, your vagina feeling like a void as he pulls for absence before fulling you back as he pushes. “It’s em…barrassin—Ghhhh!”

He pushes the thumb inside while you’re distracted, and both your holes pucker in haste. “Awww, don’t be like that, my love,” his mellow voice doesn’t match the crudeness of his actions, throwing unpredictable snaps of his hips to throw you off. “Nothing about your body is embarrassing….God, your ass looks so sexy from the back—“

Another twitch of your slit—God, you’re too fucking cute. “What are you—Don’t say stuff like that…!” Your flustered reaction didn’t make it any better as Geto pushed his thumb inside until the dent and knuckle, wiggling it inside and pushing and pulling to toy with your rear. Your teeth clench onto the couch pillow while he increases the cadence of his ruts. “Mmmmm, ohmyGod…Suguu, please—“

“Hmm, you want me to stop?” He asks and observes for a cue to stop what he’s doing. You don’t say anything, though, just your hips swaying. It makes Geto scoff, “I get the feeling you don’t want me to; look at you moving your hips on your own, pumpkin. Your body’s so honest for me.”

“Haaahh, you’re soo…mean, Sugu…”

“Only when I know it makes you feel good,” he moves his bangs out for a bit. “Which is why,” then Geto slithers that same hand down to where your chasm is linked to his wet cock, and his fingers go erratically fast on your clit. “I wanna tease this a bit, too.”

Eyes widen as you shriek at the touch, moaning aloud once he removes his thumb from your ass to keep your butt onto him as he jackhammers his cock into you. Your frame is propelled with every push, the pokes on of your cervix knock you out like the wind, and the hard rubs on your clit have you seeing stars.

“—Ohhooo, oh–hoooo!! Sug’ruuu, waaiitt!!” It’s useless; he doesn’t stop, and more hits to your womb have you wailing uncontrollably. The fingers on your clit don’t let you rest, having you unable to speak a proper sentence and resort to letting your boyfriend pound into you. A few more pinches have your legs jerking, and you can’t help but let the wave smash onto you.

As your orgasm claims over your body, you squirt out, liquids falling onto the couch beneath you, point blank. Your eyes are sewn shut as your slit flutters on Geto’s penis, your substance leaking out of your glans and dirtying your thighs and legs. Oh God, no!!

Geto hisses at the feeling of you spasming on him, tilting his head to see what you’ve done. “Oh my, would’ya look at that~.”

“Shooop, don’t loook…!!” A hand moves to the side to “try” and stop him, but he catches it with his palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t look at iiiit…”

“But you did so well!” Geto kisses your hand. “Maybe I should play with your ass more—“

“Suguru, stop!”

“Kidding~,” he was not.

ᯓ꩜ Ryōmen Sukuna

Sukuna relishes the feeling of you like this — your back to his front, your legs held up by his solid upper arms while the lower hands hold your buttocks, and your holes accommodating to his two girthy cocks — like the good pet you are. 

He entirely suspends you, your entire frame contorted for your arms to grip the futon sheets below. Sweat and warmth are exchanged by bare skin, the glow of the candles highlights the unioned figures within Sukuna’s quarters, and your anus and vagina are full of nothing but the two cocks stretching you and rubbing your insides.

Sukuna bucks his hips with might, and his every push makes you dizzy. Toes curl as your ass is pulled up and down to meet his hefty balls, his dicks venturing further to torture your insides with satisfaction. Your vision gets a bit hazy as the heat gets to your head, and your head begins to pound.

“What’s wrong, little thing,” your lips flatten to hinder the moan wanting to escape as he speaks behind you, feeling his breath brush the hairs of your back. “You’re silent this time around.”

“Haaaah, my Lord…” The tongue of his stomach licks your lower back with a lazy kiss. “Y-You’re…too biiig.”

He hits you with a sudden rut and purrs at the clench of your entrances. “You say that, yet your lewd body seems to accustom pretty well.” Another hit of his hips causes the tips of his cock to brush up against your sweet spots effortlessly, and you finally unclench your lips to let a wail escape. “Your body only good for taking cocks like a real good whore, huh?”

“I’m so—Mmmph…! S-Shooo fuuuull…” 

“No, you’re not,” he snickers as his lower left-hand sneaks around to cusp your clitoris, your precious pearl engulfed by the sheer thickness of his digits. “Not until I fill you with my seed like a sow in heat.”

The salmon-haired man picks up the pace to drill his cocks, churning your vagina and rear like toys. Your cries fly out quickly at the point, puffy lips losing ground to stay locked. Hands balled into fists as you’re threatened by the sheer mass of Sukuna, unable to fight out of this—forced to submit to him and his persistence.

Your slit and butt are so busy with his cocks, the length of your vagina grazing your G-spot by its underside, the walls fluttering involuntarily around him. The dick inside your butt feels so utterly good; the size of him is never something you can get fully habituated to. And the hand on your clit doesn’t stop playing with it, roughly pushing and grinding on it to the point of babbling and choking on spit. 

“—Hnnngh, fuck. So tight,” Sukuna licks your back and nibbles on your skin, teasing to tear your skin to taste just a hint of blood. “Feel so good…”

“Ahahhh, I caaan’t…!” Your eyes begin to water as you shut them close, lack of vision enhancing the sense of touch where it has your nerves overly stimulated. Everything is happening all at once, and you can sense the climb once the tip hits your womb. “I can’t do iiit! You’re gonna break meee!!”

“Keheh, wouldn’t be the first time.” It’s probably for the best because you can’t see the smug-ass grin on his oddly comely face. More kisses are placed on your back. “Shut up and take it, dove,” he commands you, not leaving you any room to retaliate as his thrusts increase without warning. 

Your mouth is agape, and your cries are unwillingly bouncing around the shoji-paneled walls. A bit of spit comes down your lips, your hands only finding Sukuna’s waist for your nails to dig into. The grumble of his stomach traversing to your core to rumble with the vibrations. Oh, God, noo!! You can feel it – the worse of the worse. Just when you thought your humiliation wasn’t enough at this moment, it was about to skyrocket in three…two…one.

Feverish ruts to your ass, have the reins slip out of your hold, all the restraint in your body withering with every harsh push and pull. Your head pounds like crazy, nothing but a blur can be seen in your eyes, and the clear substance expels out of your urethra, leaving out of your system along with your dignity. 

And Sukuna doesn’t have to see it to believe it, grinning from ear to ear as he playfully smacks on your vulva to create more of a mess. The watered-down liquid sprayed out to his thighs and the futon sheets and sticking to your inner thighs and sliding down the crack of your ass. Tiny pinches to your clit help you jerk out more to ruin yourself, your body losing strength entirely and letting the cursed man keep you in your distorted position. 

“Hmph, what a bad little toy,” he criticizes you like always, the tears beckoning to leave your watery eyes. “Look at you causing a mess on my bedding; who told you to do that?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Sukuna,” your expression borderline fucked out, yet the embarrassment keeps you humble. “Forgive me…my Lord.”

Sukuna slaps onto your clit with his palm; you pucker onto his girths immediately. “You dare ask for forgiveness after the fact—I should just throw you out in the cold with these wet sheets you’ve caused.”

“N-Nooo! I’m so sorry!!” Fuck, he loves it when you plead, so desperate for his word, his submissive and breakable dove. “Pleaseee, fill me up with your seed, and I will clean it up…! I-I won’t do it again…”

“Says who?” He finally lets your legs go briefly before he spreads them over with his lower arms. His upper hands find your chest to grope. “You’ve stained my sheets with your essence; you aren’t sleeping anywhere else tonight except here with me in this exact puddle you made for yourself, you dirty pet. Am I clear?”

His final words have your skin crawl as he nibbles on your nape, and you nod.

“Good.”

ᯓ꩜ Fushiguro Tōji

“Gahhh!! Ahhhhh!!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s it; keep clenchin’.”

Toji’s fingers are stuffed inside you, stretching your poor hole with pushes and pulls that take your breath away with ease—quite literally as your arms come around his neck to keep him close.

His bedroom is filled with nothing but you: your shorts and panties decorating his bedroom floor, the smell of your lotion on your now-sweaty skin intoxicating his senses, and your damp towel laid underneath you as you lie on your back.

Toji sits right beside you, near as you keep him from leaving. Not that he planned to — of course not. When he has his ring and middle finger shoved inside your vagina and grazing your inner skin with a mediocre pace, there’s no way the older man would want to stop now. Fuck, he loved how tight your cunt was, so snug to the touch and tender to his fingertips. It drove him crazy, just like you always make him. He can never get tired of you, honestly. 

“Hahhhh, Tojiii, ahhaaa…” Your whimpers get louder and louder by the second, and your back jerks to the blunt of his fingertips, poking deep inside your chasm. “Gooohh, ohhhshit…!”

“Yeah, sweetie?” His forehead touches yours, skin-on-skin increasing intimacy. “Ya like it when I fuck you wit’ my fingers, huh?” You answer with a whine as he slows his digits down, teasing the walls of your entrance while pressing on your clit with his thumb. He scoffs, “So nice and tight fr’ me, huh…”

“Ahhhh..! Bu–But I just…finished taking a showerrr!!” You wail with pleading hooded eyes that are instantly locked with intense viridian ones. “You’re making me—mmm!—dirty again…!”

He raises a brow. “That doesn’t mean anythin’ to me,” more push to your clitoris causes your body to jolt closer to Toji, and he sneers. “Getting all ready and clean fr’ me, what a good girl…all the more fun fr’ Daddy to make ya all dirty and cryin’ all over again.”

A hand grips his shoulder, exposed by his black wife-beater. “Pleasee, Daddy, it’s too—Aghahh!” He sneaks his fingers back inside knuckle-deep; the deep chuckle you hear from him causes your ears to melt. 

“C’mon, mama, I know you have it in ya,” he coos with a kiss to your forehead that has you dissolve under his scarred lips. “Wring my fingers up, make a mess fr’ me.”

Another kiss to your forehead makes you whine, the gentle atmosphere only lasting for mere seconds before the pace of his hand returns to a rhythm that has you screaming instantly. Jesus Christ, those thick fingers are no joke, the stretch enough to overwhelm your senses, along with how deep they reach inside. 

Every push to your cunt has you breathless, and every dig is knuckles-deep and too fast to catch up with one after the other. “Ohoooo, D-Daddyyy, n-nooo!” Yet there’s no point in begging now—once Toji is deadset on something, it’s challenging to swade him off. Especially when it comes to you, his little sweet thing… “I’m gonna—ohfuuck!—I’m so clooose…!”

Your words only egg Toji on to keep fingering you as much as he can, ravaging your delicate insides with his hand alone. He purchases his face to your neck, sighing deeply at the alluring whiff of your lotion. He licks your skin before a kiss, and the pace between your legs becomes unforgivingly faster.

Eyes roll up to the ceiling as your body shuts down without your knowledge, completely taken aback by the climax that clenches around the thickness of Toji’s fingers. Also, the water liquid is excreting projectively from the continuous knock-kneed-worthy pleasure. You let loose with a howl, your back arching with every subtle buck of your hips. 

Toji looks down with a salacious grin, taking in the sight of you spraying all over his bed. The towel is doing nothing but getting damper because of you, and he can only chortle at the sight and, lowkey, thank his intuition for wearing a wife-beater so you can coat his forearm. Dazed with euphoria, your body slumps down to the sheets, sweaty and sticky from the excretions and panting heavily. So much for a shower, huh?

Toji whistles and courses his free hand atop your head while besmearing your vulva with your juices. “Good girl, mama, good fuckin’ girl.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[codnasties]

cod characters fucking fleshlights

this post includes: soap, ghost, gaz, price, graves, konig & alejandro

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soap 🧼- the one that takes his time

now, this ain't soap's first time using a fleshlight. he started with a tenga egg or something like that, just for the sake of trying something that wasn't his hand. and i just know that troughout the years he has created a decently sized collection with a lot of varietiy: fleshlights imitating pussies, asses, mouths,... even if a man like him could easily pull a pretty lass to fuck, with the job he has and what it requires of him, it isn't always ideal.

but there is one thing that soap does, no matter weather he's fucking one of his partners or a plastic replica: he takes his time. stroking himself tentatively before lubing his dick up and loweing the fleshlight onto his hard on until he's balls deep. and when i say he fucks it as if it were a real person i mean it. he's fucking int in diferent positions, jerking himself with it but also fucking into it, both slow and fast until cums all over himself

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ghost 👻- the stretcher

ghost sometimes has to ask himself if he's really that big and thick or if it's just that the one or two fleslights he owns are way too fucking small. he doesn't know, but he very much loves it. there is something about the size difference, the way the plastic stretches to fit him and how he can perfecly see it expanding as he pushes his dick deeper into it that makes him go feral.

now, other than his size kink goin brrr, he finds himself swiping his cock against the flesglight's pussy-like entrance, as if he were teasing a real cunt, before fucking himself slowly into it. he's mersmerized by the plastic doll completely swallowing up his aching hard dick until he's balls deep. he also intends to pull out - just to save himself some clean up - but he finds himself so overwhelmed by the feeling and visuals that he just fill the fleshlight up with his potent cum - more than once, at that -.

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gaz 🧢- mess making perpetrator

this may be my most repeated gaz headcanon but he's a mess maker and there is no deniying. when he get's home from a mission or something like that and he doesn't feel like trying to find a partner to fuck, he always has a trusty fleshlight. the thing is, he doesn't even make it to the bedroom most of the time, deciding to just fuck it in his livingroom.

he just plunged deeply into the plastic pussy, stretching the plastic over his limit because his dick is too long for the small fleshlight, almos breking it. the pent up hornyness and the feeling of something other than his hand wrapped around his dick sending him into an orgasm faster than he expected. he pulls out to first his impossibly hard cock when he feels himself about to cum. and he stains the sofa with it as the mess perpetrator that he is - and let me tell you, it ain't the first time he's had to clean his seed out of that sofa.

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price 🚬- the first timer

price is an older and more traditional man, he would rather fuck another person than some piece of plastic. but he keps hearing his men talk about fleshlights, how good they feel,.. and all that combined with the fact that he ain't getting younger, he's extra tired and trying to find a partner with a job like his is tedious, he decides to get himself a fleshlight just to try it out of curiotisty.

what he did not expect was that god forsaken piece of plastic would feel that fucking good. all it took was some slow deep strokes into it before he found himself cumming. and at that moment his lust filled brain took over and he started fucking himself into the fleshlight again, trying to extend the pleasure of the orgasm. let's say he now fully understands why his men praise them plastic holes.

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konig 🗡- the nasty fucker

lets be real, konig is fleshlight collector number 2. anxiety gets the best of him so he would rather to make do with some plastic pussy or ass than having to deal with the hassle of interacting with people. his not that experiended ass is fucking enamoured by the feeling of and ass or pussy, even if it isn't a real one.

now, konig allways finds himself doing two thing every time he uses one of his fleshlight. a. he moans. like a bitch in heat. he can't help it, it just feels overwhelingly good to have something wrapping tightly around his unexperienced cock. and the fact of finally getting some release. b. he makes messes - yup, mess making perpetrator no. 2 -. spit, precum, lube and cum mixing all together, covering his dick, hands and fleshlight as he fucks himself dumb and slaps his dick all over yhe plastic ass.

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graves 🪦 - the stressed

now, these military men always find themselves stressed out, it's a part of the job. but for graves, said job and the tension that it generates have kept him away for some time now from a real pussy or ass. so a fleshlight is a good alternative, giving him all that he needs to reach some much needed release.

the few occasions he has had enough time to indulge in some pleasure, he's going to make the most of it. alternating slow, sensual deep strokes and fast shallow ones. hands making sure that the fleshlight stays in place as he plunges into it chasing an orgasm and moanig at the sweet feeling of release. he for sure cums deep inside of the plastic masturbator, because it may be plastic, but he loves creampie-ing it the same way he would creampie a real person.

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alejandro 🤠 - the tip teaser

alejandro doesn't strike me as the type of person that would have a proper fleshlight, you know? instead of a piece of plastic that fully engulfs his dick he has one of those quickshot ones. a transparent one at that. it gives him a lot of options, from fully jerking his cock with it to just teasing his tip.

and oh does he love to tease his tip! using that comact masturbator to play with his angry red bulbous tip. pushing just the head in and out, sometimes tilting it to make his dick pop out of the fleshlihgwith a wet noise. and seeing his cock breach into the plastic, dick twitching at the feeling, his stomach spasming from the sensation... he always inevitably cums all over himself, staining his hard shaft, lower hairy stomach, thights and even the quilt.

[superhoeva]

Older boyfriend logan who walks in on you touching yourself and takes over for you…? 👀👀

for a while, logan just watches.

eyes burning and lip pinching when he bites it to contain his groans at the sight of you rubbing at your wetness with a feverous hand. with the way your chest arches in the air and how little mewls of pleasure slip from your parted mouth, logan's becoming painfully hard. eyes still settled upon you, he has to squeeze himself through the crotch of his pants.

he can only hold on a second longer before starling you by storming into the room and right for the bed.

ignoring your gasp, logan slinks onto the bed with ease, his hips grinding against the mattress for some kind of release while his arms circle around your thighs.

"decided to start without me, huh?" the question comes with a thick lick that has your eyes flicking down to meet his gaze. one of his hands bends to grab your wrist that tries to pull away to make room for his tongue. "uh uh. didn't tell you stop, did i? you keep goin', rub her nice and good for me."

logan sprinkles the words between wet, moving to pepper kisses across your spread thighs. eyes twinkling, he huffs out a moan at the way you dip the pads of your fingers into your leaking slit before rubbing a few circles around your clit.

his mouth falls open a little at the way your hips roll, pussy almost feathering against him when you squirm. you clench around nothing as your digits hasten in pace, desperately gliding your slickness. you feel another rush of warmth when logan continues his rumbling, cheek pressed against your thigh while he watches, mesmerized.

“ooh, that’s good. give her what she wants, yeah. give my pussy whatever she wants.”

fuck, he’s drooling. breaths huffing and cock twitching, logan oozes out a glob of spit from his lips that only adds to your wetness. you flinch in delight at the feeling.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he praises when you collect the saliva and knead it into you, back arching with a low whimper. logan forgets all ounces of his restraint when you buck again, allowing his tongue to glide against you, all the way up until he’s nosing your fingers out of the way.

logan licks at you again with a long inhale and gritty moan when your legs tighten around him. he holds you as you shake, pussy grinding itself along his mouth and chin while he noisily drinks you up.

he’s pulling away after a few more slurps, licking his lips and burning the taste of you into his brain once again. before you can think, more kisses are pressed into your puffy clit, and logan’s eyes crinkle with a tiny grin when you jerk.

logan keeps his lips on you, small pecks melting into messy snogs. the grunt that bubbles from his throat has you gasping, and the knowing glance his eyes swipe at you as he sinks his tongue into deeper your hole tells you only one thing.

…you’re in for a long night.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[citysuk]

a baby?! | logan howlett

pairing: xmen!logan howlett x pregnant!reader

summary: some headcanons of logan with a pregnant partner.

notes: logan is so husband (not actually married) material 😭😭😭 i needed to write this for my man.

warnings: pregnancy kajsksa (it scares me to death), so much fluffy fluff. no proofread. no use of y/n but no oc neither.

Logan's protective nature would go into overdrive when you are pregnant. He'd be extra vigilant, watching your every move and refusing to let you out of his sight. "You ain't goin' nowhere, darlin'," he'd growl.

Logan would be constantly fussing over you, making sure you're eating right and taking care of yourself. He'd become a regular at the grocery store, stocking up on the necessary supplies for your pregnancy. "Can't have my baby going hungry," he'd say, tossing another loaf of bread into the cart.

Logan would be a pro at soothing you through the uncomfortable parts of pregnancy. He'd rub your back when you had cramps, hold your hair when you were sick, and provide as much comfort as he could. "It's gonna be okay," he'd murmur. "Just a few more months."

Logan would be eager to feel the baby kick and move inside your belly. He would place his hand on your stomach, feeling every little movement, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Hey there, little one," he'd whisper.

Logan would take you for late night walks in the gardens, his arm protectively around your waist, your steps slow and measured. He'd breathe in the night air, a rare peacefulness settling over him. "Can't wait to meet our kid," he'd say quietly, squeezing your hand.

Logan might be a bit nervous about being a father, but he would never let it show. He'd put on a brave front, masking his fears with his usual gruff exterior, but would secretly be reading every parenting book he can find.

As the due date got closer, Logan would become increasingly anxious. He'd be extra cautious, carrying you up and down the stairs and insisting that you rest as much as possible. "Can't have anything happen to you or the baby," he'd say, his eyes filled with worry.

Despite his tough exterior, Logan would be secretly excited about decorating the nursery. He'd take you to every baby shop in town, helping you pick out the perfect crib and the perfect color for the walls (he's the one putting everything together).

When the baby is finally born, Logan would be there, holding your hand, coaching you through the delivery. He'd whisper words of encouragement, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. "You're doing great, darlin'."

As soon as he lays eyes on his child, Logan's heart would instantly fill with love. He'd be torn between staring at the baby and checking on you, a range of emotions playing on his face.

Logan would be the ultimate doting father. He'd change diapers, give baths, and rock the baby to sleep. He'd sing lullabies and tell bedtime stories, his voice gruff but his words soft.

Logan would have a love/hate relationship with the baby's first word. When they said "Dada" for the first time, he'd puff up with pride, but then be secretly disappointed that it wasn't "Mama."

He would have a collection of silly nicknames for the baby, ranging from "Cub" to "Little One". He'd sometimes slip into Wolven mode and playfully growl at the baby, making them giggle.

Logan would be incredibly overprotective of the baby. Anytime someone tried to hold them, he'd hesitate and watch hawkishly. He wouldn't let anyone but his partner and the X-Men near the child, always on high alert for any potential threat. "Ain't nobody touchin' my kid, bub," he'd growl, eyes narrowed.

Logan would be the one to handle the late-night feedings and soothe the baby back to sleep. "Can't let your mama get too exhausted," he'd mutter as he rocked the baby in his arms.

Logan would be careful when the baby started walking and crawling, especially around the danger-prone X- Mansion. He'd constantly be on edge every time the baby would try to grab something sharp or crawl towards a dangerous area. "Watch yourself there, squirt," he'd say, scooping them up before they could get into trouble.

Logan would also be a very hands-on father. He'd want to teach the child everything he knows, from fighting to the wilderness. He'd take them camping and teach them how to survive in the wild. "Gotta be tough like your old man," he'd say.

Even though Logan would claim he wasn't the type to get attached to kids (LIAR), he'd secretly have a soft spot for the one you had created together.

[writeriguess]

hello could you perchance do bakugo with a reader that is oblivious/ doesn’t get hints so he has to be very forward??

No More Hints

Bakugo Katsuki was not a patient person.

In fact, he prided himself on being the opposite of patient. If he wanted something, he worked for it. If something pissed him off, he dealt with it immediately. If people annoyed him, he let them know.

But you—you—had somehow turned him into the most exasperated person alive.

And the worst part? You didn’t even realise it.

For weeks, he had been trying. Dropping hints. Making an effort—something he didn’t do for just anyone. He gave you his leftovers at lunch, waited for you after training when he could’ve left ten minutes earlier, and even toned down his usual barking insults when it came to you.

He had never worked so hard in his life.

And yet, you still looked at him with that same clueless smile, acting like he was just being a nice friend.

(Him. Nice? Were you even listening when he spoke?)

At first, he figured you were just taking your time, maybe making him sweat a little. That was fine—he liked a challenge. But then, after weeks of nothing, he started to suspect the horrible, gut-wrenching truth.

You weren’t ignoring his hints.

You genuinely didn’t see them.

Bakugo was this close to losing his mind over it, but he still told himself, just a little longer. Maybe you’d finally catch on.

But that fragile hope shattered the second you told him that Monoma had asked you out.

It happened at lunch, the usual chaos of the cafeteria surrounding your table.

“You know Monoma?” you said, poking at your food as if this was just another casual topic. “He invited me to some café this weekend. The one with all the different desserts? I think I might go.”

Bakugo’s chopsticks snapped in half.

Denki’s head jerked up from his plate. Kirishima’s chewing slowed. Mina’s eyes widened. The entire table, sensing danger, collectively froze.

Except for you, of course.

“You good?” you asked, blinking at Bakugo like he hadn’t just committed a murder on his utensils.

His jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack. “You’re tellin’ me… that you’re gonna go out with that extra?”

You tilted your head. “I mean, yeah? He’s kinda dramatic, but he’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad—” Bakugo sucked in a sharp breath, trying—and failing—to control his temper. “Are you actually this stupid?”

Denki flinched. Mina grabbed Kirishima’s arm.

“What?” You frowned, genuinely confused.

Bakugo slammed his hands on the table. “I’ve been droppin’ hints for weeks! And you’re out here talkin’ about goin’ on dates with some wannabe knockoff?”

You blinked. “Wait… hints?”

“Oh my god.” He shoved himself up from his seat, chair screeching against the floor.

Before you could react, his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you to your feet. The whole table—and half the cafeteria—watched as he dragged you out the door without another word.

Nobody stopped him. Nobody dared.

You didn’t protest as Bakugo pulled you through the hallways, his grip firm but not painful. He was practically radiating frustration, each step filled with the kind of determination that usually preceded an explosion.

He didn’t stop until he found an empty classroom.

With a huff, he released your wrist and turned to face you, eyes burning with something intense.

“Alright,” he bit out. “Since you don’t get hints, I’ll say it so even your dumbass can understand.”

You waited, heart pounding.

Bakugo took a deep breath, as if bracing himself.

“I like you, dumbass.”

Silence.

Your brain short-circuited.

“...What?”

His eye twitched. “Are you serious?”

You stared at him, stunned. “I—You—What?”

Bakugo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.”

You scrambled for words. “Wait, so all that stuff—the training, the food, the weirdly nice comments—was because you like me?”

“YES.”

“Ohhh.” You blinked. “That makes so much sense now.”

Bakugo gave you a look like he wanted to throttle you and kiss you at the same time. “You’re killing me.”

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Sorry, I just—I really didn’t realise. I thought you were just, y’know… being friendly?”

“I’M NOT FRIENDLY.”

That… was fair.

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling warm. “So… all this time, you were waiting for me to figure it out?”

“YES.”

You considered this. Then, with a teasing smile, you poked his chest. “Wow, you must really like me if you put up with all that.”

His face exploded into a blush. “Shut up.”

You grinned. “But you do like me.”

Bakugo scowled, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he crossed his arms, shifting slightly. “Yeah, well… what’re you gonna do about it?”

You hesitated.

Then, before you could overthink it, you stepped closer—close enough that he tensed, eyes flickering down to your lips before snapping back up.

“Well,” you murmured, “I was gonna go to that café with Monoma…”

Bakugo’s glare intensified.

“…But I think I’d rather go with you.”

For a second, he just stared at you, processing. Then, in one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist again—only this time, he pulled you against him.

Your breath hitched.

His other hand found your jaw, tilting your face up as he leaned in, voice low and rough.

“Damn right, you are.”

And when he kissed you—hard and possessive, like he’d been waiting for this—you finally got the hint.

(About damn time.)

[poguehearted77]

After Hours

summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.

"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.

He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.

Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.

Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.

As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.

His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.

Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.

But it was too late. You were already upset.

-

The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.

It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.

Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.

"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.

"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.

Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."

He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.

"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"

In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.

His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.

"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."

He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."

"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."

He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.

[enigmatist17]

I was right in the path of the snowstorm that hit us this week (and another coming this weekend yaaaay), and thought of my boys :)

This is part of the Mecha Pilot AU by @keferon :)

My other AU fics here

---

"RATTY, WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF?"

Deadlock didn't yell, at least not that Ratchet had ever heard, and he sure as hell never sounded uncertain.

"What're you goin' on about?" The mechanic certainly didn't have some pep in his step as he hurried to his Cybertronian, a wrench gripped in one hand as he headed to the personal bay he'd set up for Deadlock. The door was open, revealing a heavy snowfall that Ratchet had forgotten about, the mech staring at the weather with a glare.

"What is it?!" His plating rattled in slight discomfort as Ratchet raised an optic ridge (no, eyebrow? Eh, he'll ask later) at him, clearly unconcerned by the strange weather. "The sky hasn't done this before."

"That would be because it hasn't gotten cold enough 'til now." The wrench in his hand gets shoved into his toolbelt, and despite the lack of his jacket, Ratchet steps out into the snow with an amused smirk. "See? Safe an' sound." True to his words, Ratchet didn't appear in any pain, aside from a shiver that wracked his frame as the white flakes started to coat him. "It's called snow."

"Why is there snow? It has been cold for days now, your bitching about it has told me that enough." Slowly, the mech reached out to Ratchet, his digit twitching when the first few flakes landed on it, but no warnings popped up in his HUD.

"We didn't have the right temperature for the water vapor in the air to condense, but we do now. I forgot we were even gettin' a storm, which means getting home is going to be a bitch and a half."

"You drive in this stuff?" The Cybertronian asked, letting the curiosity running through his processor bleed through more than he usually would have done. "Is it not dangerous?"

"Well yea, but we've adapted over the years." The human responded as he moved to come in from the snow, Deadlock using his hand as a cover. "Sit here, let me go get my jacket and other boots on."

"Alright." Deadlock watched Ratchet head back inside his shop floor before returning his optics to the snowy landscape in front of him. He had seen something resembling this snow a few times, but it had been through quick pit stops at planets to scavenge shards of energon that left him no time to actually examine the frozen precipitation. It's cold against his servo when Deadlock scoops up a generous helping of the snow, compacting into a vague ball shape when he closes his servo into a fist, remaining solid even after he grabs it with his other servo.

"We call that a snowball." Ratchet had also put on a hat and some servo coverings, crouching to scoop up his own snow. "I'd rather you not throw that one at me, but pick and target and launch."

"Is this snow a weapon?" Now that got his attention, the assassin picked out a random tree and launched the snowball as hard as he could, all of the collected snow on the branches falling off as it connected with a loud thud.

"Not as effective ones, that's for sure." Ratchet snorted, nailing a nearby parked car right in the windshield. "Nah, it's for fun usually, though you're gonna kill me with how hard you threw yours."

"I'd never hurt you Ratty." Deadlock purred, offering his servo with a grin. "I want to see more."

"C'mon, the lake might be frozen over." Ratchet hopped up onto the offered limb, bracing himself against the wind as Deadlock began to venture out into the snowy forest, pausing every so often to look at the snow-covered trees and rocks in interest. "So Cybertron doesn't have snow?"

"Not that I was ever aware of? What we consider organic on Cybertron isn't the same definition for you."

"Fair enough." Ratchet lapsed into silence as Deadlock headed to the lake he had crash-landed next to what felt like a lifetime ago, the mech clearly surprised by the sight when they reached the clearing. "Well?"

"..." Deadlock carefully set his human down before approaching the water's edge, the surface now solid to the touch. "This is...cool."

"Yes it is." Ratchet snorted as he joined the mech, testing the ice with one foot. "Hm, might be strong enough..."

"For what?" The mechanic looked up with an amused look before taking a step forward, Deadlock watching in slight awe as he began to walk on water like he was strolling on normal ground.

"You can't always do this, but sometimes we get lucky. It is pretty cool." He grinned, the alien reaching over to steady him with a digit when Ratchet wobbled slightly. "Thanks."

"As much as I kinda don't like your planet all this much, I could come to like this snow and ice." The assassin purred, using his digit to lazily pull Ratchet around on the ice in a random pattern.

"Not the biggest fan, but I do enjoy the occasional snow day myself." Ratchet shrugged as he did a poor man's version of ice skating, only upright do to his tight hold on Deadlock's digit. "Glad you're enjoying it."

"Only because I'm with you." The look on Ratchet's face made the corny line more than worth it, Deadlock chuckling as he continued pulling the human around on the ice. "How long will it be like this?"

"I don't know, probably a few days. Best enjoy it while we've got it."

"Works for me." Sure, Ratchet can't feel much of his body by the time Deadlock decides he's done enjoying the view, but it wasn't all bad when he's carefully placed inside the mech's warm interior for the trek back. They end up dozing off in Ratchet's workshop when neither of them feels like dealing with what would be a nasty drive to Ratchet's home, the falling snow filtering through the moonlight lulling them both to sleep.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Their Pearl | Yandere Pirates

My response to @sweethoneyrose83's writing prompt about yandere poly pirates. Took me forever but I just had to get it out my system! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“This meetin’s officially called to order.” First Mate Ran is glaring at the scallywags of his Captain’s crew, without an ounce of sympathy for the guilty-looking few, “Seems like y’all have been costin’ us a month's worth of travel delaying our biggest job yet.”

The six pairs of eyes looked anywhere but Ran or the glaring Captain Lu at the head of the table. Some of them didn’t have the decency to look away with guilt but at the wooden ceiling whistling familiar tunes, rocking on the chairs they were leaning in. Ran didn’t know if that indifference bothered him more.

“Since y’all think it’s not worth comin’ straight ta me or the Captain we’ll be goin’ over each of yer fail’res.”

Black eyes scanned the long table, a relic earned on a heist of a Queen’s museum. The history within its worn wooden finish and stone markings was of the infamous pirate band—Deadman’s Collect–a band of pirates that would meet at the table to plan their grandest loots. For a crew descended from the captain’s owned it, collectively they decided it was better off in their hands than in the museum of a royal, who fought for their executions. As it belonged, it was serving pirates once again on a mission to defy the oppressive oligarchy they were forced to live in. 

“Looks like you’ll be first—Heine brothers.” 

All heads turned to look at the mischievous pair of twins, their silent smiles graduated to smirks  Their unbrushed and untamed heads of burgundy hair, fashioned like the manes of the lion statues standing guard in front of the Western King’s palace. Almost indistinguishable from one another there’s Klaus and Kurt—the strong hands of the ship and the muscle in every fight. Despite not always being the first to come up with a plan or scheme, neither needed to be goaded to do whatever it took to keep the crew safe. Usually, that was what they preferred to do rather than be patient and not kill everyone in their path. Their dynamic with the crew was silently loved; always up for a joke, and their overprotectness of everyone, especially the crew’s weaker members. So it was the most shocking for Ran to discover the brothers no longer poking at the prisoner but playing with them. 

“In our defense,” Kurt spoke playing with a strand of his unruly hair,” we found the little Pearl incredibly entertaining.”

Klaus giggled diabolically as he thought back to their interactions with the prisoner. Of course, it wasn’t unusual that when there was fresh meat the twins enjoyed torturing them but never would they take it farther than that. But of course, there was something different about the King’s Pearl. 

“Getting seasick?” Klaus had taken advantage of Ran’s divided attention to sneak off to the brig, where the most expensive item they’d ever had on their boat was.

“Nope.  As the eldest of the North Creston Name, I’ve been on plenty of ships before!” 

Klaus chuckled watching them stick their nose up and then stumble as the boat rocked. Checking the narrow stairway down, the redhead tested his luck, looking around for the key to let himself in. Finding it in a barrel out of the cell’s field of vision he quickly unlocked the cell, making its only occupant jump.

“You lyin’ to me aren’t you?”

“W-what? I’m not! It’s the truth!”

His smile dropped, green eyes giving a death glare hundreds had seen before their deaths. Without breaking eye contact he pulled out his favorite dagger, twirling the jagged blade expertly in his hand. 

“Y’know what we do to liars, meat?”

“No.”

“We mark ‘em. Make sure the truth is carved into their skin forever,” he held the dagger under their chin making them lift their head so that Klaus could enjoy the fearful expression on their face,” like a tattoo except ours is going to be..much…deeper.”

Suddenly the expression was gone and a look of curiosity remained instead. 

“Wait what’s a tattoo?”

What a setup! He could stab them and they’d have their answer, but the tilt of their head despite the dagger less than a hair away let him humor them. 

“It’s easier if I just show ya.”

They lit up, moving forward so fast he almost didn’t have time to pull his dagger away. Sheathing it he knelt to their level, pulling back his opened collar more to reveal the marking underneath his collarbone. A gnarly twist of snakes and daggers on a rotting corpse. It was his go-to for torture; the well-known marking striking just as much fear if not more than they were already experiencing. 

“Wow,” their eyes were wide and their mouth open,” does it hurt at all?”

“Ha not really I don’t–” he was going to continue to rave about how pain doesn’t scare him in the slightest instead he felt the warm and soft hands trailing the design. 

“Cool!” 

They looked up at him with an unfamiliar expression. One of wonder. Something Klaus wasn’t exactly known for inducing. It made something in his heart tug, a feeling exclusive to his adored pirates. Usually looking up at him in admiration of his strength or with a challenge but this….was nothing he’d ever felt before.

“I’ll be back, gotta go!”

“Oh uhm bye then.”

Ignoring the way that same tug reappeared as he, hearing them sadly play with their fingers. He left as soon as possible, barely remembering to close the gate before heading up the stairs to safety. 

It just couldn’t be!

He needed his other half to be sure.

“Oh, it’s you again!”

The joyful greeting was not what Kurt was expecting. Just returning the key his brother was carelessly carrying around. If the Captain figured out it was misplaced they’d never hear the end of it.

The prisoner couldn’t go far thanks to the chain and cuff attaching them to the bed, but they were standing looking starry-eyed and smiling as they mistook him for his brother. Alas, Kurt wasn’t devoid of mischievousness, even though some may consider him the more behaved brother, when an opportunity presented itself he just couldn’t refuse!

“Do you by any chance have more of those tattoos to show me?”

Kurt held back a laugh before agreeing to unlock the cell once again to do what he knew his brother would have done, choosing another one. Lifting the sleeves of shirt up to his shoulder he showed off his bicep, trying not to react when he was so willingly touched.

“Wow! So many! Super duper cool!”

Kurt scoffed to himself. So a little gushing was what got him all worked up, how cute! He’d be sure to tease him with this later–

“And you’re so strong! I reckon—sorry I’m real sure you could just carry me! Wait let’s try it!”

The absolute invasion of the prisoner hanging on his curled bicep is startling but not as much as the end of it when they clumsily dismount falling into his chest. For a moment, maybe it’s instinct that his arm wraps around to steady them. Leaving him unguarded for the unbelievably carefree face staring up at him.

“Thanks! Sorry for stumbling over you like this, if you don’t mind we can try again!”

Kurt liked being looked up to and praised, but this was making his heart thump the same way it did when he cornered their bratty cabin boy. Even still this was a whole new feeling and he wouldn’t be a Heine if he didn’t explore this further!

“But of course!”

From that moment forward the twins decided they’d extend their efforts from lightly teasing with their crew to outright delaying them. They couldn’t deny it hurt their heart to hear them complain about the waning supplies and the money they needed to repair the oldest parts of the ship. But they figured the extra time was worth it to know of the intense feelings they had for their dear prisoner.

“Just cause ya caught feelin’s, that excuses you’re behavior?”

Klaus hummed looking carelessly at the steps that led to the upper deck of the ship as if he could see their Pearl through the wooden door. It bothered Ran that Kurt wasn’t even paying attention in his brother’s stead, like he usually did, only slowly blinking up at the ceiling with a lovestruck smile on his face. 

“It’s without a doubt Klaus and I have fallen deeply for our little Pearl. I’d definitely give you trouble if you tried to turn them in now.”

Ran was openly glaring as twin pairs of emerald eyes glared back with an intensity typically reserved for the bedroom the pirates on this ship. As much as he’d like to dismiss it as an over-exaggeration from them he’d seen the kind of devotion they had. 

“Hello (Y/n) you’re getting better at using that mop.”

Klaus and Kurt had managed to slip away after breakfast to visit their favorite prisoner, who had graduated from daydreaming in their cell. After the first two weeks of being delayed, the Captain approved of them having a few chores of course while always being monitored. Though it was very quickly learned they didn’t have to worry about them escaping too much at all.

“Really?!”

They weren’t, but Kurt thought the way they struggled with waving the mop nonsensically on the deck was incredibly cute. His brother, of the same mindset, cooed before pinching and squishing their cheeks.

“So cute! Maybe I should show you my technique with the mop?”

“Oh, you will? I’d love that Klaus!”

Kurt rolled his eyes. He knew what his brother was doing and he wished he thought of it before him. He frowned at his brother as he slotted himself behind (Y/n) and clasped his hands around their awkward grip on the mop. Kurt settled to stand aside already concocting a way to intervene, in the meantime hoping they wouldn’t catch onto his brother closing the distance.

“--So if you want you should bend back into me and–”

“I didn’t know you had others on the crew!”

“Yes, I’d love it if you bent into—wait what?!

Kurt followed your gaze toward a man attempting to hide behind some barrels, and looking further past them he could tell others were coming up the side of the boat. It was supposed to be a silent ambush, from some amateur pirates. They must’ve counted their crew and thought it’d be an easy job. They’d be dead wrong. 

The brothers already had their hands on their trusted knuckle knives and jeweled punch knuckles. They spared a second to look at one another–the silent orchestrating of a plan to quickly dispatch the intruders only for their Pearl to speak out before them.

“Hey! What are you doing sneaking around for?”

The first head that had been hiding figured their cover was blown or would be if he didn’t dispatch one of the waving witnesses, charging with a long knife. Kurt and Klaus sprung into action, the former twin breaking the arm of the lunging intruder, holding his other hand on their face casually snapping their neck. By then Klaus had spun (Y/n) around excusing the intruders' attendance on the ship; it was refreshing having someone so unfamiliar with their gritty style of life around. But it came with its own challenges. Challenges Klaus and Kurt would love to have. Kurt quickly threw the corpse where it was hiding before, joining Klaus in encouraging (Y/n) to go to the kitchen. 

“We have to dismiss our unwanted guests, so if you would please go help Marie in the kitchen.”

“Oh okay but if Angel comes back you’ll have to tell him why the deck isn’t swabbed.”

“Sure sure little Pearl. Bye-bye now!”

The brothers turned to the intruders who they purposely lightly incapacitated quietly groaning as they attempted to get up. They wanted them to be lucid for the ‘fun’ the twins planned to have. Ran recalled finding the aftermath of said intruders and not clearly being able to tell how many originally invaded. The twins infamously spend a quarter of their day reducing their enemies into a bloody, burnt mess. With great pride, they confided in him, how they wished they could show (Y/n) but the First Mate convinced them not to. Part of the agreement was that no permanent damage was inflicted and Ran was sure looking at the amalgamation of human corpses would scar them for life. Ran was certain such a reaction was only reserved for the crew.

“Are you openly admitting to betraying this crew on behalf of a prisoner?”

The twins shrugged and Ran had half a thought to throw them in the brig just for their nonchalance. He was going to do just that before their Angel spoke up. Always the odd one out of a crew of pirates, his hair was the brightest blond almost white. Combed and maintained just a little past his ears, his skin lightly sunkissed an active choice many on a pirate crew wouldn’t care to do. Despite technically being the cabin boy Angel’s almond-shaped red eyes with long lashes to boot were a soft spot for the whole crew. 

Blushing oh so cutely, he faked a cough to bring attention to himself,” Ahem, I also…like them and would like them not to be delivered.”

His statement made all but the twins and Captain Lu gasp in shock. The Captain smiled, her dagger-like silver teeth glinting from the sparse lanterns around. She was leaning forward, her talon-covered index fingers tapping excitedly on the table, leaning even closer to the petite cabin boy on her left. His blush intensified as she twirled a talon around one of his blonde strands. The surrounding crew getting just as hot as him.

“I thought you wanted them ‘gone as soon as possible’?”

He closed his eyes as though that would stop everyone’s curious gazes, with his nose slightly in the air he made his case.

“Well I’ve changed my mind…last time I checked that wasn’t a crime.”

The Captain chuckled her metal claw softly grazing from his hair to his naked neck,” It isn’t, but what made you change your mind?”

The question saddled Angel with too many different memories. In the short time, his Pearl arrived on the ship he couldn’t deny the fluffy feeling in his chest when there was any inkling of their prisoner involved. But it wasn’t always this way. Firstly he didn’t mind all that much, the crew had held hostages before. It was the change that was taking over the crew that made him reevaluate. Two weeks into their imprisonment already half the crew were sneaking off and arguing about sneaking off to “play” with the prisoner. Ignoring Angel’s usually coveted advances was an easy way to earn his hatred. Which resulted in his usual routine with the Captain–cuddled up to her after a particularly passionate romp to ask for the one thing that would cure his sadness.

“You want me to get rid of our big-ticket prisoner?”

“Yes! I mean aren’t you worried about all the stalling the royals have been doing? Don’t you think they’re stringing you along? And heck we don’t even need to keep all of them alive and just keep a finger that we can send for…motivation!”

For a second, Angel thought he’d won. The Captain cooed, running her dark hands through his tussled hair and lovingly kissing his forehead. Barely able to hide his victory his pink lips curved into a smile, that dropped with the Captain’s knowing smirk.

“You’re jealous of them?”

“What jealous!?” Instinctively Angel perked up sitting up in the bed, completely ignoring his worried damsel routine. 

“I have nothing to be jealous of! That barnacle is getting everyone worked up for no good reason!”

“How do you know?”

“What?”

“How do you know they aren’t worth the fuss if you’ve never played with them yourself?”

Angel crossed his arms to pout, managing his dramatic fall into the captain's bed (minding his sore behind). Glaring at the wooden grooves of the decorated wall as if they were the ones denying him. 

“I don’t need to know.”

“Well maybe you should….then you could leverage it for some much-needed time with everyone.”

Angel hated knowing that he was taking the Captain’s advice in the first place. Fully accepting the task of making the pampered prisoner useful by sharing his chores with them. The collective groans from the disappointed crew only spurred him on. Harshly shoving a pale and scrub into their hands and screaming for them to scrub the deck. Leaning back on a barrel as he styled his hair looking in the reflection of a compact mirror that Kurt stole just for him, he was sure it’d be easy. “Spending time to learn” while the prisoner he hated did his chores sounded like a wonderful dream. Except this prisoner was like nothing he’d dealt with before.

“Alright so make sure to scrub the floor. Don’t be too heavy with the wat–”

SPLASH

“...Okay…that’s a bit much but–”

SPLISH! SPLISH!

“STOP STOP! What are you doing?! Serves me right to believe some rich kid would know how to scrub a floor!”

“Well I’m sorry but I wasn’t exactly allowed to learn at home.”

“But I’m sure someone was scrubbing the floors, wouldn’t hurt to watch them right?”

“I was strictly forbidden from spending time with others….including the maids.”

“...Well you’re going to learn. Grab the scrub.”

He hated to admit, that he enjoyed watching them flounder with the new tasks. Turning to him with that wide-eyed curious stare admitting they had no idea what a ‘sea shanty’ was. It was weirdly endearing, to be the one looked up to despite being the shortest. To be asked for his opinion on things other than costumes for a disguise. Being the one to do the pinning against the wall when he’s being particularly mean.

Angel hated to admit it but when he was confided in about an arranged marriage, he actually intervened. 

“So we’re docking at Restwood Kingdom. Small town. You’re not going to get to see it though.”

“That’s okay I’ve already been.”

“...You have?”

“Yeah, my….betrothed lives there.”

“.....Your betrothed?”

“...Yeah my family wasn’t thrilled but they said he would have been the best for me.” “Do you feel the same way?”

He studied their face so intensely then, studying the quirk in their lips and their wandering eyes. He prided himself on knowing when his Pearl was happy. When they were reminiscing. This was not one of those times…there was something off.

“It doesn’t really matter,” the sad smile made him sick, “ when I go back they’re going to start the wedding plans.”

“...Hm that’s a shame.” 

Angel felt no remorse, casually reminding Ran of a juicy bit of information the prisoner let slip. Handing over the drawn map he convinced them to draw to ‘see the garden’ they talked so much about. Pretending to be just as distraught that a headline of the prince being massacred is published during their stay. Hiding the smile that threatened to come while cuddling a crying (Y/n) into the bed he was sharing with Marie. 

“So yes. I changed my mind because as much as I hate to admit I do…like them.”

“Whoa so they were gonna marry that prick,” Kurt piped up, smiling wide as he looked at the pinned headline in the brig. Klaus and a few others at the table snickered an air of pride exuding from everyone in the room, making Ran roll his eyes. They were getting distracted again. 

“That explains your sudden necessity for a…noble’s head…movin’ on. Willow? What about yer navigation blunders? You’ve purposely been leading us astray fer over a month now. I thought yer vow of loyalty trumped that.” 

The islander navigator sighed, “I’m loyal to my heart. That is why I came on this ship, in the first place.”

A series of cheers and whoops erupted from the table, Marie and Reese high-fiving her from both sides, much to Ran’s displeasure. Willow simply shrugs, her hooped earrings jingling against her necklaces as she shakes her head. Even without her culture’s morals influencing her, she was always inclined to follow her heart. Why else would she leave the stifling paradise of the islands and its familiar grottos and underwater caves and the singing with sirens if not for love? Watching the Captain, then the twins, then the others all falling for the poor prisoner. She recalled when she first laid eyes on the little Pearl, freshly plucked from the protective mouth of the royal clam. The Captain and the First Mate had headed the mission, relying on Reese and her to keep their passage out clear. It was but a moment when they needed to get past a crowd of marching guards. Reese had been the one to ask what everyone was thinking.

“Uh, are we going to gag them or something? What if they screamed right now?”

They didn’t respond instead the prisoner that was tied up and currently sitting on the sewer floor was attempting to raise their hands as if they were in school. The Captain snickered and Ran rolled his eyes, as Reese watched their eager attempt to ask for permission. Willow was the one who finally let them speak, with a finger to her lips. The prisoner’s expression lit up…like a teacher’s pet who could finally speak.

“Oooh I promised I wouldn’t make a sound for the whole trip! As long as I get a street beignet in the end!” 

Willow quietly laughed along with Reese before they were on the move again. Watching as their untouched ankle was shackled in their cell and the expression on their face not even changing did something to her. Something she found not many of her current partners had. Not that they weren’t sympathetic or understanding, just that they couldn’t possibly know how easy it was to be swept away by the pirates when she met them. And she knew that her Pearl felt the same way.

“Did you really promise not to speak for some pastries?”

“Yes!” 

“But weren’t you afraid? Didn’t you want to be helped?”

“I…kindof have always wanted to sneak away I just could never do it. If that makes sense.”

“It does. More than you’ll ever know.”

She recalled their conversations between the bars of the cell. Animated and intrigued with every word that came from her typically untalkative self. Even her dreams were filled with their endless chatter and entrancing smiles. Being a follower of her heart meant listening to her dreams and more than anything telling her destiny demanded she have them. Have you. And she’d do anything to keep you.

 “Mmmh Willow.”

“Sorry little Pearl, I’m almost done.”

“S-s-so this is kind of like a tattoo? Except with your mouth?”

“Yes,” she licked lovingly at the puncture marks along their neck. Pride filled her heart as she watched the blood underneath their skin coagulate, “something like that.”

That’s probably why she could only stare in response to Ran’s question.

“You’re asking if I’d join the twins? If they were to ever rebel for them?”

Ran nodded.

“Of course, I would.”

Kurt and Klaus cheered roping a reluctant Angel into it too, making Ran send a scathing look for them to stop. It didn’t and without his prompting Marie, the brunette chef spoke her peace. 

“I’d also reckon they deserve a place with us, forever. Don’t think I could bear it if they left me now!”

The freckled chef had their own share of tantalizing conversations over the meals she’d deliver. The kind she often never could have with the other pirates being as close as they were, it was lovely having a new taster.

“Hmmm so good…though.”

“What? What is it?”

“I think this could use…some more spice.”

“Really?! But I tried using that oregano they got for me.”

“No no, another spice maybe try,,,, coriander.”

“I’ll have to give that a try.”

Marie would love to say that she too had waited for a long while before she was enraptured but that just wasn’t the case. From the second they scarfed down and happily ate her food she was hooked. She just loved a good eater! Dreaming about what else she could feed their lovely little captive, who was just so responsive. So responsive they rarely ever refused her dishes even when they were well beyond the point of full. Not exactly free to roam around the ship, she’d fill them up with her concoctions and recipes until they couldn’t move. Her favorite instance was during their first day out of the cell, finally allowed to be out but only with a chaperone. Marie had volunteered, shoving her stuffed Pearl into her bed, taking advantage of their feast and the sleepiness that followed. With a few exhausted groans, they were asleep giving her free range to poke and squish the fat of their stomach. Squealing to herself at its light firmness, she delighted in the freedom to do so. Her other lovers on the ship were freaky open but not enough for her to do all she pleased. But her Pearl was different so oblivious asleep they wouldn’t protest her hands wandering to explore and touch and taste.

“You’re so easy, (Y/n)...so mine.”

She’d only felt inclined to stop when Reese had walked in on her, a silent warning to go no further as she nibbled on an ear and placed a grape into her Pearl’s lips. There was no one she could do this to without being scolded or with anyone so unaware of their own limits that they would stop her. Not to mention she adored the compliments given to her without caring where the meat she’d gotten came from. At this point, she could never go back.

“That would leave you Reese…do you too feel this way about our hostage.”

All eyes were on Reese. The impish, pick-pocketer with a big smile, an aloof personality, and hair dark as the sea. Suspicious as he was a good fighter, rarely was he on the receiving end of such big questions. Often preferring to go with the flow of his fellow pirates and backing his Captain in any way possible. When the plan was in motion to abduct the greatest payoff that they’d ever attempted he was all for it. Dismissing their weird behavior and the Captain’s quiet opinion of them. Not once had he tried to risk it, until he’d seen it. Everyone on the ship had dopey faces and distracted behavior–it was so out of character for everyone. It didn’t take long before he’d found the culprit and was tempted to do what he did to all his problems.

Chuck it off the plank.

“Are you sure this is a fun game? It just seems a little scary to me!”

“That’s part of the fun! That little adrenaline rush is how you know you’re playing it right!”

“Oh okay!” 

It was just too easy. The simple proposal of a ‘pirate game; had them following like an obedient dog, completely unaware their owner was going to shoot them in the back of the head. Reese didn’t think he’d feel bad about it. Chalking it up to another kill of some enemy to his crew, he’d done it before so many times. Using his tricks and wit to outsmart them; it really was too easy to instruct them to balance themself on the plank above the sea.

“Okay I’m at the end Reese I did it!”

“Good…real good.”

“Wow the water is—”

It was second hand to slam his foot on the end of the plank, sending their hostage slightly in the air and tumbling into the depths below. From his safety on the ship's railing, he watched them resurface once, reaching out to him and struggling to call his name. 

“Ree—”

Seeing their face disappear under the waves Reese thought he should feel free, yet his feet refused to turn away. Staring at the unmoving water trying to decipher why there was a piece of him hoping they’d resurface. But he recalls a conversation he’d had with them. It was a one-off something he probably didn’t even initiate.

“Oh yeah, I don’t know how to swim. My family told me I’d never need to!”

He remembered thinking the same thing he was now.

How helpless.

They need me.

He was only reassured when he finally dove in, a floating device tied to him as he held them up. Wet coughing and puking of saltwater against his chest and their hands hanging tightly around his neck. It was the tears that had him hugging back.

“Reese…”

“Yes?”

“I-I really don’t like this game.” 

“I know me neither.”

“C-can we g-g–go home?” 

Home. That’s where they needed to be because they were so darn helpless. He had to make sure they did just that, forever.

“Yup they gotta be here, I don’t know how they’ll survive otherwise.”

Once again the pirates around the table began to cheer, a collective air of acceptance of the same truth it all stopped though as everyone was reminded of had the real say. Captain Lu sat at the head of the table with her talon-covered hands folded underneath her face. Her luscious lips are straight, her expression far too apathetic for the cheering pirates before her. They held their breaths in anticipation—a silence encompassing the mess hall as they waited on her command. 

Her First Mate turned to her, his words suddenly so much heavier,” Cap’n Lu, do you want to keep the prisoner or d’ya prefer to return ‘em and get our reward?” 

The Captain leaned back into her chair—her throne observing the faces of her pirates whom she adored, all waiting for her word as they ought to. She, like many here, felt as though someone was missing from their ranks….and she couldn’t agree more. Having been the one to receive a message in the bottle written by the King’s beloved child. On the parchment was a plea to see the world, to see the ocean for themselves, and to find love.  

Well, now they had eight. 

There was an apparent thrill for Lu–with every successful treasure hunt, there was a small part of her that felt satisfied. There truly was nothing that beat pure ale down her throat, a lover at her knees, and a view of the treasures she’d acquired burying her other lovers. It beat a hard day's work. It beats an ‘honest job.’ She could think of nothing as fulfilling until she met (Y/n) in the flesh. 

She and Ran lead the heist, letting only themselves into the innards of the intensely guarded wing of the castle. It felt disgustingly perfect to be trampling the lightly pink rug of the castle bedroom, leaving the faint dirt print within its wool. Passing a tray of ornate gifts, ranging from perfumes to portraits and priceless works of art. The handles and doors grand and golden would be fine prizes any other day but Rand and Lu walked right past them. All to stop in front of the completely bored Pearl at the center of it all. 

“I got your message.”

She handed the bottle over. The original writer tracing their sloppy handwriting from so long ago. A smile spread across their face.

“So have you come to take me? Like a hero?”

“Just like one.”

“Will I…” they trailed off eying the calendar plastered on the opposite wall. Large and in an overly fancy font mapping out a schedule that didn’t change much at all,” get everything I asked for before I come back?”

Without hesitation, she responded, “Of course and so much more.”

With a smile on both of their faces, the Pearl allowed themselves to be tied up. Stopping to negotiate a gag, and then leaving into the sewer systems of the castles. In the comfort of the ship, Lu felt no better place for her Pearl was by her side. In her bed. In her First Mate’s bed. In any of her pirate’s beds. 

No greater gift than seeing them there….among her pile of treasures.

“What do you think Ran? What will your Captain say?”

The question made the pirate fluster, shifting their boots along the floor. Dutifully looking into his Captain’s single purple eye. The silent question hanging between them—’ What do you want me to say?’. It was easier than breathing, the split-second answer that punctuates every scenario his heart likes to play out. 

Thinking back to all the new memories he’d made with their Pearl. It was the evening of a minor heist that ended with a fight. Not against the corrupt merchant but with Reese. The pick-pocket had been particularly reckless attacking the knight-in-training who’d followed their band bag to the ship. Despite shakily holding a sword up, Reese attacked with extreme prejudice. Holding the boy by the neck as he repeatedly stabbed a dull knife into his sternum, dragging through the skin to his intestines. Ran was the first to witness this, surprised by the aggression to someone they’d usually let live. 

“He saw them! Sleeping in the brig! He was going to tell! I can’t–! I wouldn’t–! We can’t let that happen!”

Ran listened to Reese flounder, the manic look in his blue eyes anxiously darting about. He’d rarely seen him in such a state. The detached sneak had a habit of masking his pain, a survival instinct he couldn’t quite part with. A paranoid obsessiveness that requires unspoken requirements to be fulfilled puts him on edge. People, not tied up, are the usual ones—too many opportunities for danger. And apparently, anyone threatening to remove their little Pearl would do the same. 

Ran did what he usually did when he got in this state. Pulling Reese into his chest, blocking his view of the dying intruder. Letting his rough hands curl within the locks of his shaking partner, holding him tightly as he hummed. 

“No one’s taking our Pearl. They won’t be going anywhere.”

“....Promise?”

Ran didn’t hesitate when he promised. He also didn’t hesitate when Marie and Willow asked to make a special pitstop. The chef wouldn’t stop talking about how their Pearl in passing spoke of a specific spice so fondly, that they’d die if they never got to see their expression when they finally tasted it again. Stealing anything from the spice merchants meant going out of their way; possibly mingling with other pirates who specialized in the trade. Yet he still said they could. Purposefully stalling their pearl until Marie was in the position to watch excitedly as they gleefully ate her cooking. Sending Willow to ‘wait’ with their Pearl for their scheduled bathroom break. Keeping quiet Willow promises to visit later.

“Are you alright with this, Ran?”

“Yes…you were very helpful…for our requests with the prisoner.”

“It’s not a problem. We haven’t broken the routine or protocol.”

He did lie just that once about not breaking protocol. He didn’t bother saying anything the next time Angel and the twins, confiscated a line of rope. Typically Ran demanded strict ledgers and labeling when it came to any supplies on the ship. It was the best way to make sure everything was in order. So typically he’d have quite a lot to say about the unspecified use of an extra rope—but this case was special. It was in front of the twins’ room, Klaus and Kurt usually kept the door open as an invitation but not this time. Knocking brought out Klaus and Kurt, pink on their cheeks and large smiles on their faces.

“We’re using it for a game.”

“Yes, a very fun game.”

Ran was so annoyed he hadn’t figured out why yet,”Well am I getting the rope back?”

The twins shared a look as they usually did before speaking up. Their door opening to reveal a flushed Angel has them stopping and eagerly turning to him. 

“---We’re ready for you~ Oh  Ran, how’ve you been?”

The twins no longer interested in the faux conversation, went into their room leaving Angel to placate their First Mate. 

“Sorry, no guarantees about that rope. It might not survive what we have planned for it.”

Ran wasn’t an idiot he recognized the specific shirt he was wearing. The one that was flowy and hung off his shoulders–deliciously inviting. Though it begs the question who was being strung up if it wasn’t him?

“Oh, and I’m chaperoning our Pearl by the way! Bye!”

He quickly disappeared into the room behind him, leaving Ran to burn with the broken rules of any prisoner. Granted special permissions were given, he wondered just how far he was slipping or just how bad it had gotten.

“Thank you Ran for helping me! If you can believe it I usually am not allowed to do this completely by myself.”

Beneath him was (Y/n) colloquially dubbed their Pearl bare and resting within the tin washbasin. In his hands was the washcloth lathered in the sudsy remains of a dwindling soap bar. Fighting the burning in his cheeks and begging twitchy hands running over unmarred skin, with the reverence it usually did. It was the quiet splash of the water with the slightest movements, their breathy moans of satisfaction that brought Ran to his knees. In his heart, nay! His very soul was for them.

For them, no amount of gore and death was unnecessary.

For them, no amount of stalling, lying, or breaking of rules was unneeded.

For them, no amount of rope, jewels, or spices could compare.

For them, their Pearl was worth more than all of it–and trading them in for any pile of gold or riches would be a loss. For nothing can compare to the value of their Pearl. 

“My Cap’n, you must say yes. As you already have the greatest of treasures.”

——————————————————————————————————

The nervousness you felt was growing exponentially. A little while ago you’d been left in the crow’s nest; Lu assuring you’d be helpful while they had their meeting. For all the stories and headlines you’ve read about pirates, it’s crazy to know they demanded to have meetings with one another. 

Staring at the endless sea and sky full of blue, you let your mind wander. Thinking back to the endless cycle you originally lived through. Waking and being pampered day in and day out, in the same room you’d been in since your youth. Looking at the definition it constituted it being called insanity, but this insanity eased all in court. All in the castle. All in the Kingdom. To know their future was locked away, upkept, and healthy. 

But that was gone now. 

You were free.

For now. 

You wondered how long it’d take for your parents to chase, for the pirates to lose interest, for others to learn that the jewel of the crown was easy pickings. It felt so dreamy. To spend your days learning something new, trying what you’ve heard adventurous heroes get to do. Daring heists, escaping storms….being loved. 

It was foreign but good.

So good, you dreaded seeing the Royal Messenger ship appearing on the horizon. The white sails instead of red or black proving this was the one to pay whatever it took to bring you home. 

Quickly you stood, peering into the eye-glass once again. Turning to the ladder you made your way down, running to knock on the closed door of the mess hall. Instead, the door swung open revealing the dressed in purple Captain Lu smiling her infamous smile. Reminding you of the first day you finally met… a shame it’d be your last.

“Captain the Royal ship is here on the North horizon.”

She hums stepping to the side to reveal the others who had heard such major news. The first to step out was Marie, her bottom lip jutted out and quivering with an onset of tears. Throwing herself at you, you caught her to the best of your ability. The chef was petite but her grip around you was tight, making her dead weight a problem for you. 

“Don’t tell me yer gunna leave me (Y/n)! How will I go on?!”

You had nothing to say, just patting her flowing brown hair. Saving you from outright admitting you’ve never comforted anyone ever, Angel piped up.

“You’ll be fine,” he lightly kicked her, looping an arm around yours, “get up we’ve got work to do.”

“So what do we have to do to get ready? How do ransoms work exactly?”

The pirates around you stopped for a moment, something unfamiliar jading their expressions. But as quick as it came it was gone, them smiling and laughing like you’d told a funny story. You didn’t hide your curious face…was that the wrong thing to say? You felt a nibble against your earlobe, the familiar smell of lemons invading your senses as Angel pulled you close.

“You're absolutely hilarious, (Y/n).”

Klaus sauntered towards you coming on your opposite side, to hold your chin up. A light peck was all he got in before Kurt butted in. Holding the gesture for much longer before his brother pulled at his matching messy hair. The tug of war continued for a while until you heard a large a two smacks occurring simultaneously. Klaus and Kurt snapping upright clutching their behinds with a smirk and a flustered smile directed at Willow, who took advantage of their surprise to squeeze in pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“We’ve come to an agr’ment, Pearl. You won’t be going.”

“What?!”

“Isn’t this just the best,” Marie piped up. Tears gone and her grip now fondling the fat of your waist,” You get to try to fill up on all the new ideas I’ve got cookin’ up!”

Reese stepped forward minding Marie still kneeling on the ground, he looked you deep into your eyes a warm smile spreading on his face. 

“You’re stayin’ I doubt that ships going to get within boardin’ distance of us before they’re blown to smithereens.”

You don’t choose to focus on the dark look on his face or the way they all seemed to smile along with him. With Angel still clinging onto you, you turn to Lu who’s tucking her own spyglass into her coat pocket. 

“What d’ya say, Pearl? Gettin’ a little bit more than you asked for.”

Your first meeting ran through your head, and you nodded. Looking past her to see Ran who has a rare smile on his face. You pull Angel and Marie into a hug, leaning backward when Kurt, Klaus, and Willow join. Reese comes forward slipping past the arms going for him before he runs for the crow's nest. 

A look is shared with Ran as he runs off, making the First Mate fake cough to get your attention. 

“Now (Y/n), your trainin’ as a pirate begins now, and for yer first lesson: we’ll be discussin’ battle at sea!”

You beamed, wiggling free to follow Ran who was cleaning his handgun. Watching in awe as he practiced his aim at the incoming ship. 

“Are we really going to hurt them?”

He hummed, “Only if they choose not to leave us be. As a pirate, we protect our own first and foremost. You think you can handle that (Y/n)?”

It wouldn’t hurt to enjoy this adventure a little while longer!

[mythicalninjas]

Hii! First I want to say I LOVE your fics. They're amazing!!

I saw your requests were open and came up with one. How about a jealous Raphael? Maybe reader was training with Leo once because Raph was busy. And he came in the dojo to see them laughing and getting along well, with reader who fell and fell on top of Leo they were just laughing it off. But Raph geta angry and drags reader away to fight about it and maybe some make up smut???

Awwn thank you! Happy to read that!

Rate/Warnings: +18, jealousy, anger, happy ending (make up smut)

Jealousy had always been a shadow that clung to Raphael like a second skin. It was something he tried to keep buried, but in moments like this, it reared its ugly head. The dim lighting of the dojo cast long shadows across the room, flickering slightly with every movement. Raph had been preoccupied all day, leaving his brothers to their training while he handled his own matters. But something had been gnawing at him, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. It wasn’t until he wandered into the dojo that he realized why.

There you were, laughing—laughing—with Leonardo, the eldest brother. Sweat glistened on your brow, and the sound of your laughter echoed off the walls as you and Leo sparred. You had fallen, clearly tripped during your training session, landing squarely on top of him. For a moment, it was nothing but shared amusement, an easy, innocent moment between friends. But to Raphael, it felt like a dagger to the chest.

His blood boiled at the sight. The way you and Leo seemed so comfortable with each other, how naturally your body lay sprawled over his brother’s. The sight was too much. Without thinking, Raphael stormed into the room, his broad shoulders tense, and his face twisted into an expression that was far from friendly.

“Hey,” he growled, his voice low, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is goin’ on here?”

You scrambled off of Leo, confusion flashing in your eyes as you glanced between the two brothers. Leo, ever the calm and collected leader, simply raised an eyebrow, not yet catching onto what had set his hot-headed sibling off.

“We were just training, Raph,” you explained, brushing off the dust from your clothes. “You were busy, so Leo stepped in.”

“Training?” Raphael spat, his fists clenching at his sides. “Looked like somethin’ else to me.”

Before you could respond, Raphael grabbed your arm—not hard, but firm enough that it was clear he wasn’t asking. “We’re talkin’. Now.”

He dragged you out of the dojo without another word, Leo watching silently, his lips drawn into a thin line. The tension was thick as Raph pulled you into one of the side rooms, slamming the door behind him. The room was smaller, more intimate, and with each second, you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“What the hell was that, huh?” Raphael snapped, his emerald eyes flashing with hurt beneath his anger. His breathing was ragged, his broad chest rising and falling quickly. “You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t care?”

You stepped back slightly, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. “Raph, it was just training! Leo was just helping me out because you weren’t around.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t like the idea of you ‘n him gettin’ all buddy-buddy when I’m not lookin’,” he muttered, though now there was something softer in his tone. The edge of insecurity that he tried so desperately to hide.

“Raph…” You sighed, moving closer, your hand finding his. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not.”

He glared at the floor for a moment, jaw clenched tight, his large hand trembling slightly beneath yours. “I know, but… seeing you like that. With him. It just… it messed with my head.”

You could feel the heat of his jealousy simmering down, though the air between you was still charged. Your fingers slid up to his wrist, tracing the tense muscles there. "You don’t have to be jealous. You know I’m here for you, right?"

Raphael grunted, his body relaxing under your touch, but there was still an intense, lingering tension. Slowly, his eyes met yours, the fire in them shifting from anger to something else entirely. The air between you thickened, and you could feel his grip on your arm tighten, but this time, it wasn’t out of anger.

Without warning, he pulled you closer, his lips inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You think I’m lettin’ this go just like that?” His voice was a low rumble, full of heat and unresolved feelings.

And just like that, the conversation shifted, the jealousy morphing into something far more primal, something that needed release. In the heat of the moment, the frustration, the possessiveness—all of it—boiled over, and Raphael’s lips crashed into yours, full of a raw intensity that made your knees weak.

His hands were everywhere, pulling you close, desperate to remind you exactly who you belonged to. Every ounce of his jealousy poured into that kiss, a bruising, passionate clash of emotions as he pressed you against the wall, leaving no room for doubt about how much he wanted you.

And in that moment, as the world around you disappeared, you knew one thing for certain: no one could ever make you feel the way Raphael did.

"You're... mine.", he growled, sliding his hands down your thighs slowly. Very slow... The way it feels you couldn't describe, but your body can.

Tongues intertwining, hands exploring each other bodies, moans feeling the room. The red-clad huge turtle moves his waist foward, pressing his hardness agaist you. "It is not the en', honey."

[floweredsoul03]

Can I request Jealous Boom!Sonic and reader?

The reader is really close to Shadow and lives very close to him so they frequently hang out. It can be either that reader and sonic are already in a relationship or they’re still pining for one another!

Sonic goes through the whole “What does Shadow have that I don’t” thing and it’s just fluff and crack.

Sonic boom is my comfort show so I got very happy to see that your requests are open for it!!

Blue With Jealousy

(Boom!Sonic x Doctor!Reader)

A/n: This can be seen as a part two of my other Boom!Sonic x Doctor!Reader.

You didn't mean to do it again. Accidentally make a new… friend? At least deep down, you hoped Shadow considered you a friend as you thought him yours.

In your defense, it’s not your fault—once again. When you became a doctor, you swore an oath to help people regardless of background.

Hell, you’ve even patched up Dr. Eggman at rare times. You would’ve helped him more if your friends hadn’t always sent him flying away. Even at rare times, when he wasn’t sent flying, whenever you tried to help, he’d yell at you to buzz off before going away faster than you could catch up.

On the day you first saw Sonic fighting Shadow, your heart dropped quite a bit. You knew Sonic was capable. You never doubted him once. However, it looked like Shadow was just as capable as well. He’s also able to teleport.

You were tending to your friends' injuries. Your movements were swift, still, calm, and calculated as you helped your friends individually. However, you felt anything but level-headed and collected on the inside.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel the thumps against your ribcage. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, intertwined with fighting in the background.

You never doubted yourself in the past about being a valuable member of Seaside Island’s heroes, but for the first time, you felt useless despite your knowledge of medicine. You hated having to acknowledge the fact that you have your limits. You only know how to heal, not fight. Although it never bothered you in the past, knowing if you acted recklessly and tried something, you’d only end up injuring yourself and possibly someone else. Then you’d all be in trouble, being the person all your friends depended on to treat them.

But this time was different.

When you finished helping Tails, you turned to look at Sonic, who finally got the upper hand, and things seemed to be turning around in his favor. Your muscles relaxed, and you felt like you could breathe properly. The atmosphere changed around you and your friends, and you all felt relieved.

When Sonic landed the last hit, it made you recoil at the impact Shadow took. Your reaction surprised you, considering you have never felt bad whenever Eggman got his ass handed to him. And yet, for some reason, someone who's caused more havoc at just the first time you’ve seen him than the multiple times you’ve come across Eggman was able to make you react that way.

With a promise from Shadow to get back at Sonic, he disappeared.

You could hear the little shouts of victory from your friends, but your attention was on the area where Shadow once stood, and your mind went back to his injuries.

Not even a second later, with a small sigh, you started walking.

You’re a healer at heart, after all, through and through. You didn’t need to second guess yourself that you wanted to look for Shadow to tend to his wounds, although he was attacking your group just seconds before.

Not a few steps later, Sonic ran to your side with a tilt of his head in your line of sight, “Where you goin’? Meh Burgers is that way. What? That tired you can’t even walk in the same direction as everyone else?” He teased, pointing towards your friends making their way to eat and celebrate.

“It’s fine, I’m not hungry. Besides, I need to check on some civilians and ask if anyone is hurt, just in case. See you next time.” You calmly said, trying to make sure you weren’t coming off as suspicious.

It was a believable lie. You’ve done so multiple times in the past. If an attack happened, you asked if anyone was harmed, and if not, you led them to safety before focusing on your friends if you didn’t have time to check on any citizens beforehand, definitely afterward.

You would feel guilty about lying about checking on other folks to seek out Shadow if you didn’t already know beforehand that everyone else was okay.

You continued walking, ensuring you didn’t seem nervous or look back.

Sonic was left with his shoulders slumped at the disappointment of this perfect excuse for you to be around him, not work. Watching your figure go away, he couldn’t help but feel that something was off.

Unable to figure it out, he returned to catch up with the rest.

Sonic caught up beside Amy when she asked, “Where’s (y/n)?” She looked behind, trying to spot you.

“Looking for the people who ran away to see if they’re hurt,” he said as if it were normal. However, some underlying turmoil surprised him, and he didn’t understand why.

That was until Amy pointed out, “Without looking at your injuries before leaving?” Eyes wide.

That’s when the realization hit him hard. You’re always on him about staying safe or ensuring he knows to relax and not overdo it. And this time, you didn’t even scan his body at all.

He looked back to where you were no longer there, subconsciously, one hand rubbing his arm where a bruise formed.

You had started running once you were out of sight to find Shadow.

You searched until you came across a cave. Out of breath, you slowed down and continued walking. Seeing the glowing pinkish cryptic drawings and writing carved all over the walls of this dark—almost depressing—cave, you felt pretty sure you’d find the emo red and black hedgehog.

“You have some nerve coming out here on your own.”

Speak of the devil.

You looked around until Shadow teleported right behind you. A yelp left your lips as you jumped back in fright.

It's too late to consider backing out now.

You breathed to calm down, “I saw you take quite a couple of hits back there.”

You immediately realized how bad that sounded by the way his expression worsened. “I’m a doctor! I’d like to take a look to see if you need medical aid.” You quickly explained.

A ‘tch’ left Shadow’s mouth, “Do I look weak to you? The last time I saw you, you were running around like a headless chicken while your friends,” he emphasized, making the word sound like an insult somehow, “were the ones fighting.”

His words reminded you of the new painful insecurities that formed hours ago, and you started to feel angry. However, without allowing anger to cloud your consciousness, you decided it would be best not to feed into the tiny spark that could escalate and combust into roaring flames. So you continued, “I know you aren’t weak. Regardless, I took an oath when I became a doctor to help people without discrimination. That includes you, Shadow. Even though you terrorized many people and attacked my friends, I still intend to stay loyal to my oath.”

The expression and gaze Shadow gave you probably would’ve made you tremble, especially knowing what he’s capable of. To top it all off, you were in his territory, and your friends did not know where you were. And yet, it felt like something just burst into life inside you. Your face held a determined look, and your stance was confident -unlike how you had been the last time he saw you. Your eyes held a fire that didn’t snuff out by his glaring eyes, and your gaze never looked away from him.

He broke the silence with a groan, “Very well then. Judging by your look, you’re not going to leave anytime soon. You might as well get it over with so you can leave. Any funny business, however,” Shadow raised his fist, clarifying what would happen as he went to sit down.

You would be lying if you said you thought this would work out and that he would accept your help, even if it were begrudgingly.

You tried to conceal your happiness over your victory by trying to calm down; however, you’re sure Shadow saw this anyway. You walk before him and place your bag beside you to start working.

“You’re doing this out of obligation?” Shadow asked.

Keeping focus on finding how many injuries he may have, you responded, “I’m no fighter.”

“Obviously.” Shadow interrupted.

Annoyance aside, you continued, “I’ve always been drawn towards learning how to heal people. I would’ve been doing this regardless if I went to school for medicine or went a different route and became an herbal doctor instead.” A genuine and gentle smile crept up on your face. You were so focused on the work that you missed how Shadow looked at you.

Ever since that day, you would seek him out, which is surprising because you’re more introverted. When you first came back to visit Shadow, he asked why you bothered coming back; you went with the excuse that since he’s far away from where most people live and you have no idea if he is doing well since Shadow keeps to himself, you planned to visit him now and then. Which isn’t a lie; you do mean it. You just left out that you enjoyed his company more and more as time passed.

If only you hadn’t gotten so lost in the moment, you’d realize Sonic and your friends were getting suspicious of how much you found excuses for not being able to join them.

Eventually, Sonic had enough one day and ran to your home to confront you.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.” He barged in without even knocking in advance. Before he can continue, he sees not just you looking at him wide-eyed, but Shadow is also there.

“(Y/n)!” Sonic is about to attack when your arms are wide in front of Shadow. Are you protecting him?

“Hold up, I’m not in danger!”

Sonic stops right in front of you, stumped. A familiar voice is heard before anyone can say anything, “Hey (Y/n), you home?” Knuckles takes a peek into your home. “Am I interrupting something?” He looks between the three of you. You’re confused at the look Knuckles is giving until it finally clicks. Your back is almost all against Shadow, while Sonic is a little too up close to you. Face warming up, you panicked and pushed both of them away from you, “No! Nothing was happening!”

Knuckles gave you a face that he didn’t believe you, “I’m not the brightest tool in the drawer, but that’s not really convincing, you know.”

Before you can defend yourself, you hear the rest of your friends making their way to your house.

You want to scream.

The tension in the air feels thick after explaining everything to everyone.

Tails is the first to speak up, “There’s no way you’re actually going to let him live here, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Sonic said as if he was not letting there be any other option.

“What if this is some kind of plan to get close to our healer, and when (Y/n) least expects it, bam!” Sticks waved her arms around dramatically, “They're gone!”

“If Shadow wanted to harm and get rid of me, he would’ve already done so when he had the chance multiple times.”

Although what you said was reasonable, it didn’t ease their minds. Knuckles was skeptical. Sticks and Sonic were glaring at Shadow -unbeknownst to you, Shadow was sending a smirk toward Sonic, which made him more sour than before. And Amy and Tails were worried.

Desperate, you turn to Amy, “Shadow lives alone away from the village with no one else around. This can be a good thing; he won't be completely isolated but not overcrowded.” Your house was a perfect distance away from the village. You had complete privacy but weren’t too far from not being able to show up on time in case of an emergency.

Thankfully, Amy seemed to have taken the bait: “This can be a good thing, you guys. Shadow has made a new friend who can be by his side.”

Amy liked to believe that there could be good in everybody. So it seemed worth the shot if being around you helps Shadow be less lonely and not attack others anymore -or at least not trying to ‘destroy’ anyone.

Amy’s words seem to have worked more than your own. Most of your friends looked less tense—all except one blue hedgehog.

“No way. How can we just leave (Y/n) alone with Shadow believing he won’t try something?”

Amy quickly replied, “We know they’ve both been hanging out for some time, and (Y/n) was always left unharmed. " She then had a small smirk. “And Shadow didn’t deny (Y/n) being his friend.”

Everyone shifted their gaze to Shadow when Amy pointed it out. They caught a glimpse of shock on his face for a second before he looked away with a frown, groaning.

Sonic, stressed that he wasn’t winning this argument, began tapping his foot on the floor. He had one hand on his hip and the other pressed against his forehead.

He had a feeling he was not going to like any of this.

And sure enough, Sonic was right.

He couldn’t decide whether it was better to find out that you and Shadow had become friends.

Because now that Sonic and the rest of your friends knew, the two of you weren’t hiding anymore.

He hears how you laugh sometimes around Shadow the same way your laugh makes Sonic feel enamored, especially if the reason for it is because of him. The gentle smile you send to the people in your heart now includes Shadow. Whenever an event or get-together comes up, you go out of your way to ask him to join in.

Lost in his thoughts, Sonic hadn’t realized he was quite literally speed-walking in a circle as he was muttering under his breath until Amy interrupted.

“Sonic, you’re going to end up digging yourself into the ground at this rate.”

Sonic stopped and looked down. Sure enough, he accidentally dug a deep enough circle to reach his ankles.

“Oops.”

“It’s best not to assume anything about anyone but Sonic. Are you jealous that Shadow is hanging around (Y/n)?”

“No, why would I be jealous of Shadow?” He answered too quickly. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Style?” Knuckles pondered.

“He can assert dominance in a fight?” Sticks adds.

“Teleportation?” Tails joins.

Little by little, Sonic’s frown worsens.

“I’ve heard that some people are into the category of men Shadow might fall in. Someone rugged, bitter, and cold, but deep down, they’re caring and sweet to the people they consider dear to them. And once you find out their backstory made them that way, it all makes sense.” Amy exclaimed, her hands clasped together as she looked lost in her world, making it seem like the most romantic thing ever. She snapped out of it before thinking out loud, “I wonder if that's (Y/n)’s type.”

Sonic had enough, “I’m rugged. I’m so rugged!”

Before anyone could say anything, Sonic ran off.

Proud of herself, Amy spoke, “I hope that finally gets him to do something about his feelings. (Y/n) too.”

I'm not jealous. There's no reason for me to be jealous.

How the hell did Sonic end up in this situation? Oh yeah.

He decided to challenge Shadow.

How did it end up being a swimming competition? Don’t ask.

The regret hit Sonic at the same capacity as his speed. He hears the sound of someone jumping into the water before he passes out. It’s only complete darkness for a moment before he’s coughing up salty water, opening his eyes expecting to see his savior, you. So imagine his shock when he sees Shadow; Sonic starts to panic. “What just happened? Please tell me you didn’t kiss me.”

A growl of annoyance leaves Shadow’s lips as his fist raises to punch Sonic when you gently grab his wrist to stop him. “Let’s not punch the patient right back into unconsciousness, okay?”

Shadow rolls his eyes but still complies as he starts to walk away. “I think there’s something that you need to confess to him, (Y/n) before that coward does something else foolish that gets him killed for sure.”

Those words send nerves running through your body, but hopefully, what you have planned will help you express your feelings.

“Tell me what?” Sonic turns to look at you, and he’s surprised by what he sees. There’s a look of vulnerability on your face as you look down at something you’re holding in your hands; he looks down at your hands to see them slightly shaking; before he asks if you’re okay, you open them up and reveal it to him. It is a simple, pretty bracelet with seven tiny pink seashells. “I probably should have given this to you before, but I wanted the gift to be a surprise with the two of us alone.” You give the bracelet to Sonic, “I don’t believe in superstition, but I heard that it’s supposed to protect you in the water and bring you good luck.”

“You made this for me?” Sonic says—more of a statement than a question.

He connects the dots: Shadow saying you need to confess, the look on your face, your shaking hands, the gift, and your intentions behind the gift, both spoken and unspoken. At that moment, he knows that his feelings for you are reciprocating.

A/n: Did I make more references in here like last time? Yes I did. Did I make a reference from one of the Avengers movies? Yes I did. Did I make reference to Sonic X? Yes I did. Can anyone stop me? No. 😈😂

[wazzappp]

AAAAAAAAaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

TEEEEEEEETH!!! TEEEETH TEETH TEETTTHHHHHH TWEEEEEEEEETHHHEH ETRHEHTEEHTHWTEHEEEEWEHHTTTTTHHHH

wip-posting yet again

[except this time i will actually finish them Dont Look At My Last Wip post Shhhhh]

yet another instance of Cicada Nearly Bites It Taking Reference Pics

I know it was For Kids n all and they did actually go quite far but. absolute horror-movie Casket was an opportunity missed 😔

✨️But. That's what Tumblr Is Here For✨️ to give The Spookies

Psssst Wazzappp hiiiiii >:]c

[brittle-doughie]

Slight Detour (Grand Cookie Games)

———————————————————————

[Phone Booth, Parfaedia]

“Yeah, I might come back to the kingdom a little later then expected, Dumpling Cookie.”

“What? Are the cookies at the Flower City becoming an issue?”

“What? No! No no, I parted from there on good terms, it’s just…the airship had to take a quick stop at Parfaedia, one thing led to another and I got to meet some old pals.”

“Old pals? Old pals…Parfaedia…oh, you mean those three cookies you met during the Triple Cone Cup tournament…”

“Yeah. Prune Juice Cookie, Capsaicin Cookie, and Kouign-Amann Cookie. We were catching up when they brought to my attention another tournament, the Grand Cookie Games.”

“And you’re intent on going there?”

“Well…”

You looked back to see the three cookies standing a little bit away from the phone booth, looking on at you from anticipation. They backed off a bit and looked in random directions innocently when you catch them.

“I don’t think I could miss an opportunity to relive some fun with them, just like old times. Besides, erm, it would help in framing my mind off…matters.”

“I will make a note of that…I’ll have to bring this up with Salsa too. You’re lucky Crowned is visiting family, she’d hunt you down if she heard you were there…”

“Hehe, yeah. Thank you, Dumpling…”

“Just…be careful, ‘kay?”

“I will, don’t worry…”

You hang up the phone and stepped out.

“Hey, uh. Did it all go out well, buddy?”

“If there are problems, that’s ok. We can understand if you’re a little too busy for the games.”

“Though, it would be great if you were able to go with us! We can be on the same team again!”

Well, they were in luck, because you cleared up enough time in your schedule to go with them!

“Ha ha! I knew it! This is going to be awesome!”

“Not like I predicted you’d say yes, but really, how can you when you’re looking at moi.”

“Then why wait! Let’s go!”

———————————————————————

Ok, there was a lot more familiar faces at this tournament than you expected!

“Oooh! Is that Y/N Cookie over there? That’s, like, totes amazing!”

“Ha! I expected them to have the strength to come here! I’m counting on a match with them!”

“I wasn’t! Goodness, I knew I should’ve done up my hair more today!”

“Is that Y/N Cookie I’m seeing over there! Woo, I’m feeling all kinds of amped today, baby!”

“Oh, they’re here. That’s…that’s fine.”

“Black Lemonade Cookie, I know you’re as excited to see them here as much as we do!”

“I’m..not denying that.”

“Y/N Cookie? I wasn’t expecting ya to be around these parts. If so, I won’t be goin’ easy on ya, so give it your shot!”

“Ah, Y/N Cookie. You’ve showed up just in time for me to brainstorm up a new novel. The romance between the protagonist and their love is just getting started!”

“Have you come for the coins too, Y/N Cookie? I won’t be giving up on them so easily, I must make sure that no Cookie in the world goes hungry!”

“Y/N Cookie is hereeee. Maybe they’d like a shroomie!”

“AHAHAHA! Did they come to see us squash these bugs!”

“Maybe by winning these games, we can finally convert them over to our side! All without Pomegranate Cookie around to ruin it!”

The CoD were here? Again? Man, you were getting tired of handling these guys-on second thought, you prefer them over those horrid Beast Cookies at this rate.

“So you’re Y/N Cookie?”

Huh? You turned around to see..

This..Cookie that you’ve never met before.

“Yeah..that’s me.”

“Oooh! I detect something FASCINATING about you! Care to share?”

“I…don’t know you?”

“Not sharing? I’ll just have to MAKE YOU!”

Without warning, this cookie fired her blaster hands at you, to which you quickly dodged and leaped out of their way!

“Hey! What’s your problem?!”

“I have collected data on you from other cookies. It is incomplete, so I want EVERYTHING on you to complete my data!”

“That’s not a thing that’s happening.”

“Then we’ll make this quick.”

“Aha!”

You turned around just in time to block a hit with your sword, your opponent was another unfamiliar cookie that wielded a large knife.

“As long as I carry this blade, I must win, but handling you is my second top priority. I want to see if you’re capable of looking into the darkness.”

“I’ve looked into it and it was the one that blinked!”

You pushed her off and steadied your blade. These games just got a little bit interesting for you now!

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (BONUS)

Summary: A peak into the future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 1,865

Warnings: None. Fun fluff!

A/N: Sorry, y'all. I had some more left in the tank.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

As a bright sun began to set over the Fayetteville horizon to transform the bright cerulean sky to one glowing with orange and purple hues, 22 young men huddled at the 50-yard line of Francis High School’s freshly lined football field. The wind lightly blew around them for a welcomed cool breeze while they ran through yet another play before their first playoff game of the season. 

“Defense, we in man coverage. Offense, run a Go. We need to tighten up this late-game execution. How you gon’ react under pressure? Show me somethin’ boys!” 

While the head coach rattled off instructions to the team, Terry stood nearby with his arms folded and eyes intently focused on the two wide receivers occupying the field. Cam and CT Wilson were tall and lean twin boys who reminded him of how he looked by senior year except they were sophomores with room to grow. He told them on day one that they were physical specimens with unreal speed and high IQ made for a few semesters at Clemson if they could focus through the head-spinning four years that made up their high school experience. He promised their father that he’d be there to guide them through it all save for a few months during Spring practices.

“Cam, you goin’ inside on this one. You remember the count,” he hollered out from the sideline. 

“Locked in!” 

Terry answered with a thumbs up and adjusted his stance for optimal comfort. The child-sized weight on his shoulders was starting to get heavy but he knew the tongue-lashing that awaited him if he dared to make a false move. 

“He goes too slow. Make him count fast so he won’t drop, Daddy.” 

The small voice from above made him look up for confirmation to find her already looking down at him with a scrunched nose and missing teeth that resembled her mother when she was that age. 

“You sure?” 

“Just watch.” 

Together, they watched the play unfold. Terry counted along in his head to time when the ball should leave the quarterback’s hand in comparison to where Cameron should’ve been on the field. Sure enough, he was a step slow causing the quarterback to throw the ball slightly ahead of him for a bobbled pass. 

“Hm,” he grunted more to himself than anyone else. “I’ll be damned. Aye, Cam, come here for a second!” 

Above him, perched on her throne, Nyla Naomi Richmond rested a smart tablet on her father’s head to watch film from the previous game like she always did. Her mahogany skin was shiny under the bright white LED lights illuminating the field from her mother’s overzealous lotioning before they left home. Per her request, Terry had braided half of her hair back to give way to a collection of moisturized zigzag coils for first-grade picture day. Glasses rested at the tip of her nose with a bright yellow strap to keep them attached to her face. She kept her attention focused on the tablet’s screen, even as Cam jogged toward her and her father on the sideline. 

“Yeah, Coach? I do something wrong.” 

“Too slow,” Nyla answered without looking up. “Speed up. You’re like a turtle out there. We gotta win, man!” 

Terry and Cameron chuckled together as Terry tapped the top of Cam’s helmet. 

“A little quicker on the count, man. If you get there when you’re supposed to, that’s a catch all day. Make ‘em beat you. Don’t beat yourself.” 

“Type shit. I got you, Coach.” 

“Hey! Don’t say bad words.” 

“My fault, Coach Ny. Can I do my pushups later?” 

“Yeah yeah yeah.” 

Cam laughed at her dismissal before accepting a fist bump from Terry and rejoining the field. Terry couldn’t contain his smile as he reached up to tickle his firstborn's sides for that high-pitched giggle he loved so much. 

“Be nice, MiMi. Remember the rule?” He craned his neck to look up at her for the lesson he’d been struggling to get through her head since she began joining practice. 

She sighed dramatically and frowned. “Be hard on the work, not the person. I know, I know.” 

“Be better next time, champ. We’re here to help, not hurt.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes sir,” he repeated to mock her childish grumble. “You’re so mean like your mama. Gimme a kiss.” 

Like she always did, Nyla lifted her daddy’s cap to kiss the crown of his head before placing the hat backward atop her own head. 

From the day she first showed herself in a routine sonogram, Terry knew she’d be a firecracker. She refused to show her face to him and Patrice. She carefully concealed her features during an expensive 3D scan and almost hid her gender had they not caught her during an in-utero nap. 

She came into the world kicking and screaming at a long 24 inches and a head clean as a whistle just like her pops. With Patrice, she was the perfect baby. She slept all night, cooed and babbled when spoken to, and grew into a little girl who loved to cuddle into her mommy while they watched Pixar movies on the weekends. With Terry, she was a hell-raiser. Loud and rambunctious with a love for NFL games on Sunday afternoons and playful wrestling on the living room rug. 

Their smart girl had her hand in everything imaginable and, when they’d listen to other parents complain about the difficulty of raising young ones during playdates and birthday parties, they always came away feeling like they’d lucked out with Nyla. 

Across the way, Patrice stepped onto the newly refinished running track with the cheerleading team for warm-ups. Under her school t-shirt, her belly protruded enough to tell anyone looking hard enough that she was expecting. Behind her, she pulled a cooler meant to supply the football team with cold water and snacks for the next day. 

“Mrs. Richmond, you want me to help you? You always be actin’ like you Superwoman or somethin’.” her captain called out from behind her, jogging to catch up with Patrice’s long stride. 

Patrice waved her off. “Nuh-uh. Y’all start stretching. I need to drop this off personally.” 

“Uh-huh. You going to your little boyfriend. Being fast!” 

“I learned from you, Z.” 

“Not you in my business!” 

Patrice’s loud laughter created an echo in the stadium, becoming a bat signal for Terry and Nyla’s attention. 

“Hey, Mommy!” 

Nyla rushed to hop off Terry’s shoulders like he was a jungle gym, unconcerned with any harm she inflicted with her long legs as she shimmied down his body. He winced in pain until she was safely on the ground before lightly trotting behind her to greet his wife. 

Seven years of marriage hadn’t changed much of their love. They’d navigated the growing pains of newlywed life and parenthood to come out stronger on the other side. So much stronger that they’d neglected to follow through on contraceptives to keep their family of three from growing to a family of four. Their parents called a second pregnancy a blessing. And though they mostly felt the same, they also knew that baby number two was the result of too much booze and ignoring the cycle tracker during a kid-free night in Charlotte. 

Patrice braced herself for impact once Nyla got closer and wrapped her body around her legs. 

“Hey, baby,” she greeted, rubbing circles at the center of her back. “You look so pretty. Did you finish your homework?” 

“Mhm! I got 100 on my math test, too!” 

“Alriiight! That’s my smart bestie. Now you gotta pick a place for dinner this weekend.” 

“Can we get piz-”

“A place that is not buffet pizza again. Pick something else.” Terry interjected, making Nyla groan. Dad’s word was final whether she liked it or not. His eyes flickered to Patrice’s still for extra confirmation. Mom’s word was final final. 

She offered a small smile while zhushing the back of Nyla’s hair. “Try something new, Naomi. Maybe chicken tenders this time?” 

Nyla accepted her parents’ redirection with another dramatic sigh that made Terry and Patrice stifle laughter. 

“I know, mama. It’s so hard being six years old. We can write a book about it tonight when we get home so you can help your little sister or brother when they get here.” 

“I hope it’s a girl. Boys are boring.”

Neither of them could muster a response before Nyla abandoned them to supervise the cheerleaders as they started to run through cheers. 

They waited in silence until she was out of earshot to face each other with equally broad smiles. 

Terry spoke up first as he reached down to take the cooler’s handle from Patrice’s hand. 

“Didn’t I tell you from the jump she’d be a second you?” 

“Oh no, she’s a second DeeDee. She might have my mom’s middle name but she is your mama through and through.”

“Touché.” Terry chuckled. That’s why the duo got along so well. They were twin flames in more ways than one. 

A lull in the conversation made Patrice subconsciously bring her hand up to her stomach for a soft rub. Terry looked on with a fond smile, proud of the way her wedding ring reflected the light back into the night sky like a star on the ground. 

He pushed the cooler to the side and grabbed her free hand to pull her into a side hug. He kissed her temple several times over, making Patrice giggle like a schoolgirl at the sensation. 

“We make a cute kid, don’t we?” 

Patrice hummed and closed her eyes for a brief second to feel the full press of his chest on her body and his arms squeezing a little tighter than before. “So cute. She talks too much, but that’s okay.” 

“Wonder where she gets that from?” 

“Her damn daddy.” 

The vibration from Terry’s deep baritone encased in laughter tingled against Patrice’s arm to cover her in warmth from head to toe. A whistle and call of his name from the field snapped both of them from their semi-private moment, making them reluctantly pull away. 

Terry leaned down to kiss the corner of her lips as a parting gift before slyly sneaking the tip of his tongue into her mouth. She playfully pushed him to save them from the embarrassment of taking it too far in public. 

“C’mon, MiMi, we not done yet.” Patrice watched Nylah quickly ditch her squad to meet her daddy’s outstretched arms for him to place her back on his shoulders and rejoin the team. He called back over his shoulder for her attention. “I love you, baby! Go get off your feet!” 

“Sit down, Mommy!” 

“Yeah, sit down, Mrs. Richmond!” 

Patrice wore a semi-serious scowl on her face and threw her hands up to stop the barrage of demands. 

“Woah, woah, woah! I am grown,” she hollered back to everyone in the area. She began the slow journey toward her team and clapped her hands. “Just for that, let me see that Hot To Go routine. If you mess up, you owe me a lap.” 

A collection of teenage girl groans made Patrice crack a smile.

Maybe Terry was right.

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[pandapetals]

Always

You find a photo from your childhood that sends you spiraling and Logan comforts you.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

Ororo had casually mentioned wanting to borrow a pair of boots you’d worn years ago, which led to you rummaging around in your closet for over an hour. You could picture them perfectly in your mind—brown leather, worn but stylish—and you vividly remembered boxing them up and stacking them neatly with your other shoes. Or, at least, you thought you did.

Frustration began to creep in as you pulled down box after box, each one revealing everything except the boots you were looking for. A pair of strappy heels you didn’t even remember owning. A dusty pair of sneakers that should’ve been thrown out years ago. Another box filled with scarves instead of shoes.

When you reached the last box, tucked away in the farthest corner, you huffed and pulled it closer. This one felt oddly light, and when you opened it, your hands stilled. Inside wasn’t the pair of boots you’d been searching for but something you hadn’t seen in years—a collection of forgotten belongings.

There were old photos, their edges frayed and curling, buried under an assortment of trinkets: a childhood bracelet you thought you’d lost, a small drawing you’d scribbled as a kid, and a fraying ticket stub from a county fair. At the very top of the pile was a photo of you as a child, standing between your parents. The three of you were smiling like the picture-perfect family. Your dad had his arm around your mom, and she was beaming as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But you knew better.

Before you could stop yourself, you picked up the photo, your fingers trembling as the memories came rushing back. The forced smiles. The nights spent hiding under your blanket, praying your dad’s temper wouldn’t boil over. The mornings after, when your mom would quietly clean up the aftermath as if nothing had happened.

Tears blurred your vision, spilling down your cheeks before you could wipe them away. You clutched the photo to your chest, your heart twisting in a storm of conflicting emotions—grief, anger, and a longing you didn’t quite know how to name.

That’s how Logan found you—kneeling in the dim closet, surrounded by scattered shoes and open boxes, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed silently into the picture. His chest tightened at the sight, and for a moment, he just stood there, taking you in, his usual gruffness replaced by a quiet tenderness.

“Sweetheart,” Logan murmured softly, stepping into the closet and kneeling beside you. His hand was warm and steady as it settled on your back, rubbing gentle circles. “What’s goin’ on?”

You couldn’t speak at first, the lump in your throat making it impossible. You just held up the photo for him to see, your fingers curling tightly around its edges.

Logan took it, his eyes flickering over the image before settling back on you. He didn’t press, didn’t demand answers. He just waited, his quiet presence like a steady anchor in the storm.

After a moment, you managed to whisper, “It’s been years… since he died. And I still don’t know how to feel.” Your voice cracked, the weight of the confession spilling out like a flood. “He was an abusive alcoholic, Logan. He hurt me. He hurt my mom. And yet… I still miss him. How messed up is that?”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his gaze softening. He placed the photo carefully on the ground and took your trembling hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “It ain’t messed up,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “He was your dad, sweetheart. No matter what he did, part of you wanted him to be better—for you, for your mom. That hope doesn’t just go away.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears falling harder now. “I wanted so badly to hate him. But after he died, I just couldn’t. I forgave him…and my mom…I keep wishing we could fix things, but every time I try, it just… it doesn’t work.”

Logan nodded, his expression unreadable but deeply attentive. “Your mom’s probably got her own guilt to carry,” he said after a pause. “And that’s a heavy thing to drag around. Maybe she doesn’t know how to meet you halfway. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wantin’ somethin’ better.”

His words, raw and simple, cut through the noise in your head, giving shape to feelings you’d struggled to name. “How do I even start?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to your hands in his. “I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted. “But you don’t have to figure it all out at once. Sometimes… you just gotta take it one day at a time. You can’t change what’s behind you, but you can decide what’s ahead.”

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for something—guidance, reassurance, anything. “What about your parents?” you asked hesitantly. “Do you… remember them? I know you don’t like talking about them.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, his thumb still tracing slow circles on your knuckles. “Bits and pieces,” he said finally. “My dad…the man I knew as my dad…I remember him being kind. He used to take care of me when…I was sick. And my mom… she tried, but…” He trailed off, his expression distant for a moment before he looked back at you. “I don’t remember much, but I know one thing for sure. You don’t get to pick where you come from, but you can pick where you’re goin’.”

His words settled deep in your chest, like a quiet flame sparking in the dark, warming places you hadn’t realized were still cold. Without hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles—the same hands that had once brought destruction but now protected and comforted with an unmatched tenderness. You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along his skin.

“You’re a good man, James,” you whispered, your voice steady but full of emotion.

Logan didn’t respond right away, but his hazel eyes softened, the weight of your words sinking into him in ways he rarely allowed. His gaze held yours, brimming with something raw and unguarded, the kind of emotion he kept locked away from the world. Slowly, he reached up and brushed a tear from your cheek with a careful thumb, his touch as gentle as his expression was conflicted. It was the touch of someone who knew pain intimately but was still learning what it meant to heal.

“James,” he murmured, the name sounding foreign as it rolled off his tongue. He said it like he was testing its weight, trying to remember the man who used to wear it. “Haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Sorry,” you said quickly, guilt creeping into your tone as you searched his face for a reaction. “I didn’t mean—”

Logan shook his head, cutting you off gently. “No,” he said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “It’s okay. Just… feels strange. Like I don’t deserve it. That name… it feels tied to someone better than me. Someone I haven’t been in a long time.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and your hand instinctively moved to cradle his, holding it between your smaller palms. “Logan,” you began softly, your voice trembling but steadying as you went on. “You are good. You’ve proven it time and time again. You’ve protected people, cared for them—even when you didn’t think you were capable of it.”

His jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to where your hands held his, as though he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “Doesn’t feel like enough sometimes,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “Every time I think I’m more than what I’ve done, more than what I’ve been… something pulls me back. Reminds me I’ve got blood on these hands.”

You shook your head, your grip on his hand tightening as your heart ached for him. “These hands—your hands—they’ve saved more lives than they’ve ever hurt. You’ve helped people find hope, find safety. You’ve helped me.” Your voice cracked slightly, and you blinked back the tears brimming in your eyes. “You’ve shown me what love can be, and I’ll remind you every day if I have to, that you’re more than enough.”

With a deep exhale, he met your gaze. “You’ve got a way of makin’ a man feel like he’s more than he is,” he murmured, a faint, almost self-deprecating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But the warmth in his gaze betrayed how much your words meant to him.

You smiled, leaning in closer, your fingers brushing over the rough, scarred surface of his knuckles, letting your touch linger. “Sometimes… I feel like I was made for this. To remind you of who you really are, even when you forget. You’re not the man you think you are. You’re so much more.”

Logan swallowed hard, his free hand lifting slowly to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin in a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache. “I think we were made for each other,” he said quietly, his voice a low, gravelly whisper like he was confessing a secret. “You’ve shown me I’m more than what I’ve done. More than what people see. And for that… I’m grateful, darlin’. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.”

His words wrapped around you like a soft, warm blanket, their weight settling into your heart. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, but your smile didn’t falter. Instead, you leaned into his touch, feeling the calloused strength of his hand cradling you like something precious.

For a long moment, you sat together, the stillness of the room filled with unspoken understanding. Logan’s thumb traced tender circles along your cheekbone, his hazel eyes holding yours with a mixture of awe and gratitude.

Eventually, the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a soft, almost hesitant smile. “Why don’t you tell me something about your dad?” he murmured, his tone gentle, without expectation.

You sighed, your breath shaky as you rested your head against his shoulder. His familiar scent—woodsy and warm—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. “Something good or bad?” you asked quietly.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. “Doesn’t have to be good or bad. Just… tell me what comes to mind.”

You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you stared down at your intertwined hands. His fingers dwarfed yours, but his grip was steady and reassuring as if to say he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Most people just want to hear the good stuff,” you said finally, your voice tinged with bitterness. “The kind of memories that paint him as something he wasn’t. They don’t want to know the truth… just the version of him that’s easier to love.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His voice was low, steady. “You don’t have to paint him in a good light for me,” he said. “I may not have known him, but I know you. Whatever you feel, whatever you remember—that’s what matters. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

His words unraveled something inside you, a knot you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding onto. You exhaled slowly, the tension in your chest easing as you let your head fall more fully against his shoulder.

“I remember the way he used to sing when he was drunk,” you said after a long pause. “He had this old, off-key voice that filled the whole house. It wasn’t… joyful or sweet, though. It was more like he was trying to drown something out. Maybe his regrets. I don’t know.”

Logan stayed silent, his hand resting against your back now, rubbing soothing circles as you spoke.

“And I remember how he’d come home after losing his temper somewhere else,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I’d hear the door slam, and I’d just… freeze. Waiting. Wondering if tonight was going to be a bad night or just a quiet one.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and though he said nothing, you could feel his silent rage at the man you were describing. But his grip on you stayed gentle, his touch never faltering.

“But,” you added, surprising yourself, “I also remember how he’d make breakfast when he wasn’t drinking. Omelettes from scratch. He’d put so much love and care into cooking. He had a real talent for it. I remember thinking those mornings were the closest we ever got to being… normal.”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and Logan’s arm tightened around you, pulling you closer against his chest. “That’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “It’s okay to remember the good and the bad. They’re both part of it.”

“I hate that I miss him sometimes,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I hate that I can still find those little pieces of him that I loved, even after everything he did.”

Logan rested his chin on the top of your head, his warmth radiating through you. “Missing someone doesn’t mean you forgive everything, or that you forget the bad,” he said softly. “It just means you’re human. And that’s not a bad thing, sweetheart.”

You looked up at him then, your eyes glassy. “How are you so good at this?” you asked, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You act like you’re all gruff and growly, but here you are, saying stuff like that.”

Logan chuckled, his voice deep and soothing. “Guess I’m full of surprises,” he said, tilting his head down to kiss your forehead softly. “But if I’ve got anything worth sayin’, it’s ‘cause of you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your face up to meet his gaze, letting yourself get lost in the tenderness you found there. “Thank you,” you whispered, the weight of your gratitude pressing against your chest. “For listening. For being here.”

He smiled faintly, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. “Always,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

[hoonieyun]

collecting tears - heeseung

jar of tears that were shed for heeseung

lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, situationship, unrequited love

warnings: kissing, suggestive, profanity, mentions of a dead parent, overall 18+

summary: your relationship with heeseung, if you could even call it that, has lasted for almost 3 years. 3 years you were at his beck and call and you were finally done. having convinced yourself that you didn't want to continue what you had with him even if you didn't necessarily believe that. to him it was casual but to you it meant everything.

We were goin' right, then you took a left Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess Guess I'll waste another year on wonderin' if If that was casual, then I'm an idiot sabrina carpenter - sharpest tool word count: 1401

Had it been any other person, you wouldn’t have stayed for so long, but something about Lee Heeseung just pulled you in. 

Three years of wasted time and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you were slowly chipping away at the hard exterior of Heeseung you were always met with, “You know I’m just not ready for something serious right now.” whenever you would bring up how you’d wish he would hold you as his girlfriend and not the girl that was just filling the empty space in his bed. 

“Hey, are you still up, love?” the text reads as your phone shines in your face. The clock says 2AM but to you it was time to crawl into his bed and to Heeseung it was time to call for someone to take up the empty space between his arms when he sleeps. You don’t even give yourself the time to try and convince yourself that you shouldn’t go before you’re behind the wheel of your car, pulling into Heeseung’s parking lot. The walk from your car to his apartment felt long, your heart drumming inside of your chest and with every step you took it pounded louder and louder as you arrived at his door. The pounding of your heart suddenly silences as you knock on the door and it almost instantly swings open; revealing a casual but handsome looking Heeseung. 

He was standing in his doorway, sweatpants hanging loose around his waist and his toned body being hugged by the black compression shirt he wore. A sight you saw quite often, his usual attire when you would come over and although simple, it definitely had an effect on you. Your mind instantly clearing of any worries or hesitation when you seem. 

“Hey…” Heeseung says and that simple three letter word held so much weight. 

It wasn’t just “Hey” it was: 

“I’m glad you’re finally here.” or…

“I’ve been waiting for you.” and…

“I need you in my arms right now.”

but it was never:

“Be mine.” or “I’m yours.” 

Heeseung takes your hand in his, guiding you to his bedroom but not before connecting your lips, mindlessly moving against one another as you kick his door closed and turn the lock. Navigating your way to his room with no worry because the two of you had memorized the path to his bedroom and you could get there with your eyes. Much like now, eyes closed as your lips connected. 

Past the dining room where his leftover takeout sat, cold. 

Through the hallway with several picture frames hung on the wall of his loved ones, none of which featured you. 

And into the doorframe of his bedroom, landing on his plush bed as you pull away from him to catch your breath. Heeseung’s eyes are dark and low as he watches you, your chest slowly rising as you recall all of the other times you were in this situation. 

When Heeseung took you to his older brother’s birthday, ending the night in his bed. 

When Heeseung took you to the theme park because you said you’d never been before, ending the night in his bed. 

When Heeseung asked you to temporarily move in while you were still looking for a new place to live after college, ending every night in his bed until you found a place. 

Right now, after you spent the whole day thinking of Heeseung, ending the night in his bed. 

Heeseung sets his hand over your neck, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek as he tries to read what you were thinking of through your eyes, “What’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” he asks. It was moments like this when he would speak to you in that way that just soothed your heart, he just had this way of speaking to you and telling you exactly what you needed… but not what you wanted. 

You just shook your head in response and continued where you left off. Spending the night rolling around in his bed, sharing tender and notso tender moments, and making you forget all of the times you wished you hadn’t come over. 

The sun rises in the east, the morning light shining through Heeseung’s bedroom window as your eyes flutter open, the soreness in your legs and back and marks on your neck serving as a reminder of the events of last night. You stretch the events of the night before away as you flip over to the middle of the bed, realizing that Heeseung’s presence was absent. 

Finding your way to his dining room as you see he’s cooking something in the kitchen. The dull air in his apartment almost suffocates you as you approach him, his head slightly turning in your direction when he senses your presence. “Hey, I’m almost done with breakfast. Hope you’re cool with-” Heeseung begins but you interrupt him, knowing what he was already cooking up, “ramyeon?” you say, the two of you chuckling together as you finish his sentence for him. 

“Am I that predictable?” he says with a laugh. “Mmm just a bit.” you say teasingly but you were only half joking. Knowing that you knew how the day after usually goes, you wake up in his bed alone, you find him making the two of you breakfast, and before the clock strikes noon you’re on your way back home with the weight of last night and every other night before that stacked onto your shoulders. 

An endless cycle that has been going on for the last 3 years that you just couldn’t break. 

“Y/N? You hungry?” Heeseung asks and you blink away your thoughts when you realize he’s calling out to you, already sitting at his dining table with two bowls and two sets of chopsticks laid next to him. Steam floating above the boiling pot of ramyeon. 

“What are we?” you abruptly ask Heeseung, shutting his eyes with a sigh as he tries to gather his thoughts for a conversation he doesn’t necessarily want to have. “Really? This again, Y/N?” Heeseung asks, clearly annoyed by your question. “Why can’t you ever just leave it? Let us have what we have without putting a label on things?” Heeseung continues, each word creating a crack in your already brokenheart. 

“And what exactly is that Heeseung? Hmm? What do we have?” you ask, emphasizing the word have like you were testing him because to you, you had something more than Heeseung would admit. He scoffs at your remark, not having an answer but he deflects, turning it back onto you. “See, this is why I can’t commit to you. You want so much out of me and I told you that I just wanted something casual!” Heeseung says, his voice getting louder when yours was barely above a whisper. 

“So is that what this is… casual?” you ask and although he doesn’t give you a verbal response, his actions were enough as he averts his eyes away from your gaze, not wanting to make eye contact with you. “Right…” you say, retreating to his bedroom to grab the small amount of things you brought, planning to leave and not turn back. 

“Where are you going?” Heeseung says, getting up from his seat at the dining table, the pot of ramyeon getting colder the longer this goes on. “Anywhere else but here.” you say, brushing past him as he tries to block you from leaving. 

“None. NONE! Of this was ever casual and you know that.” you say as you stare blankly at his front door. Afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying but you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you slipped your shoes on. “We’ve met each other’s parents. I went to your brother’s birthday party, you bought my mom a birthday cake, I to- took you to my dad’s gravestone…” you say, your voice breaking at the last part of your sentence. 

“If that was casual, then I’m an idiot.” you say, tears falling from your eyes as you hurriedly leave his apartment, leaving him stunned as he stood staring at his front door left ajar. 

A choice you had to make even if you didn’t want to. 

Telling yourself that you couldn’t keep doing this with Heeseung even if you never stopped wanting him.

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[yujibooty]

PINK HAIRED DUMMY

Pairings; Yuji x fem!reader

Tags; handjobs, dominant Y/N, porn with plot

1.7k words

(Posted on Ao3 aswell)

Walking out of the local store.

You couldn’t be more exhausted and ready to end the day.

Carrying 2 plastic bags filled with your pink haired boyfriend’s very unneeded, needs.

Picking up the pace slightly just to end the day a little quicker, you remember the text he sent earlier.

———————————

“Bubbbss megs n gojo are picking me up from work 2 hang out if that’s okki”

———————————

You didn’t hate the idea of it.

It’s nice he’s getting some fresh air, considering he’s always under your wing never wanting to let go.

The yellow peach setting of the sky was a pleasant sight to see while making your way to the parking lot.

The ambience of voices, grocery carts, and cars wasn’t something you hated.

Once your small car became eye distance, you reach for the pocket of your jacket.

Empty.

Then your other pocket.

Not even a jingle of a keychain to be heard.

Closing your eyes as your heart pace increases you try to handle this in a healthily manner.

You don’t have time for a breakdown.

Or an appointment with your therapist.

Not now.

Breathe, relax.

Focussing on the sounds around you, you clench your fist, knuckles fading white.

Cars.

Honks in the further distance.

The wheels of grocery carts against the hard cold concrete ground.

And voices.

Some calm, collected.

Some, phone calls.

Some, shouts into the distance.

But a certain one catches your attention.

One you’ve heard before.

Many of times.

Everyday.

“Dude, no way.”

The voice sounds cheerful, laid back.

Eyes glossed over, just slightly, you glance up to the direction you heard it from.

A white luxury car, and a dark haired man getting out of the back seat.

His hair was messy, and he had tired green eyes.

You look around you to double check that you aren’t schizophrenic, a small sniffle coming from your nose as you search the endless road of cars.

. . .

Maybe you do need to see your therapist.

Feeling your back pocket you feel the hard press of something against your butt.

Your fucking keys.

Scoffing at the sight in your hand you give yourself a minute to grasp reality, realizing you were about to snap about the smallest inconvenience.

Laughing at yourself you comb through your hair, gripping it slightly.

Searching for the right key that’ll get you home you hear your boyfriend’s voice again.

“So why’re we here again? I mean- before I get carried away.”

Curiosity and pure confusion was getting the best of you, you tilt your head to see over your car.

It’s just the dark haired man who looks like he hates everything and everyone.

What the fuck..?

Genuinely giving up you look back down to find the right key.

In the corner of your eye you see another man a little taller than Mr gump.

Not concerned about whoever they are you finally find the right key and open the door, a woman- gorgeous woman walks confidently past you.

You do a double take to admire the eye candy.

She was..approaching the dark haired man?

Maybe they’re dating.

“We’re here to indulge in Shoko’s alcoholic addiction; Then head to Gojo’s.”

Wait.

The second it clicks in your head the woman cuts you right off as if she heard your realization.

“Hey, you’re pretty cute. Love the pink hair you got goin’ on.”

Your heart feels like you’ve taken a large drop on a rollercoaster.

“Huh- oh- me? Thanks.”

He had a faint smile, never looking her in the eye as he nervously ruffled his hair out of his face.

Oh my fuck.

He’s so oblivious.

Painfully oblivious.

You wanted to walk over, to be the awareness he doesn’t have, but your feet don’t budge.

The guilt pangs your heart. Are you really gonna sit and watch like a stalker?

“You’re pretty too.”

The dark haired man you now know as Megumi, glares at Yuji.

Guess we are gonna stalk.

The woman seems to enjoy his awkwardness, her smile becoming more confident as she sizes him.

“Think I can get your num-“

“Hey- you guys gonna go in or what? Unless you want me to come in with you!”

You’ve heard this voice before too, only through Yuji’s phone though.

Gojo’s very bright annoying grin beams at them through the front seats window.

“No.”

Megumi grabs Yuji’s collar and starts walking towards the store, very unfazed and a bit ticked off from what it felt.

You duck slightly as they walk pass you.

You cringe realizing how much you’re ‘enjoying’ stalking your boyfriend.

It’s okay. You’re not upset.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know…

You grip the door handle of your car.

Your upset.

Very upset.

But at who? He didn’t know. She didn’t know.

Your hand burns as you grip harder, until you felt like you were going to dent it if you didn’t stop.

Should you ask him about it?

Should you yell at him?

Breathe.

Breathe.

You swallow the frustration you nearly couldn’t contain, a painful gulp but it was better than being a murderer.

Getting in the car you think about how to handle your stupid ass boyfriend.

You have plenty of time before he gets home.

———————————

“Take your time baby, love you.”

———————————

Alright you might be a bit crazy.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“You seemed to be very friendly today.”

“I did?”

You both stare at each other in the mirror.

Massaging his shoulders while you stand behind him.

“You did.”

He notices you’re calmer than usual. More talkative.

His hazel eyes narrow and his body tenses just slightly.

He knows he’s done something wrong.

He swallows as he looks down in thought.

You continue to caress his shoulder blades, going lower with every move.

“You-…don’t wanna take a shower do you?”

Yuji may be oblivious but he wasn’t very gullible.

He was suspicious of your random ask of a shower together, but he’d never turn spending time with you down, especially after hours without you.

His shirt, wrinkled, on the cold bathroom floor, and his belt sitting next to it.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about bubs..” His tone vulnerable. Almost apologetic.

. . .

Your silence did nothing but put him more on edge.

His expression pleading, like a kicked dog as you lay your hand on his chest.

“What’d you guys do?”

He frowns at you changing the topic but plays into your game anyway.

“..We-…we just hung out at Gojo’s house and gamed.”

“Before that?”

“Were you-…watching us?”

“*Before that Yuji.*”

“We stopped for gas and went to the store.”

“Mmm..”

You hum as you lay your head on his shoulder, your acrylics (that the man shivering before you insisted he payed for) softly grazing his abs.

He twitched at your touch as he grabbed your hand by instinct.

Whatever you were doing was obviously working.

His eyes closed, he exhales softly but shakily. His eyebrows still in its worried, pleading position, yet his lips are in a fine line.

He holds your hand up to his mouth, kissing it. His warm, light shaded pink, skin, covering your hand in praises.

He’s not getting himself out of this.

You scoff, smiling with only your lips, as you unbuckle his pants with your other hand.

He already knew there was no way out of this.

He finally opens his eyes to look down once he feels his jeans being tampered with.

Before he can even react he’s hissing at the cold touch of your palm on his length.

“I-..I don’t..guhhm”, his words being cut off by your thumb rubbing the tip. You always loved his voice cracks.

“I don’t know what I did!” He whines as his breathing grows heavier by the second.

That does nothing but tick you off more, your eyebrows burrowing. He can’t even remember what he did? He can’t remember what made you feel pure anger from your soul? Okay, maybe you were a little possessive, but nobody’s nearly completely sane in this generation.

Your pace grows quicker with no signs of mercy. “You don’tttt?” You pout your bottom lip just slightly. “That makes me sad Yuji.”

You glance at his figure in the mirror, and to be honest, he doesn’t look like he heard a word you just said. He was panting like a dog.

You realize you might’ve got a little carried away.

His pants slowly falling from his waist as he struggles beneath you, his head laying back on your shoulder. “..before entering the store.”, you grumble.

“The-…the girl?”

He whimpers as his realization, and at realizing what he did. He didn’t even notice what a stupid puppy he was being.

“I-I’m so sorry..s-s-so sorry-“

“Mm?”, you giggle at his weak state.

You might be a bit sick.

His legs were wobbly, completely leaning on you for support.

“S-so so sorry bubs..!”

Your hand was sticky with his precum, the noise of your fast movement along him was intoxicating, and pure lewd if you’ve ever heard it.

Yuji was still a heavy strong boy so you eventually sit down on the bathroom floor, him himself, tumbling down with you, plop on your lap.

Drool coming from the corner of his mouth, as his eyes were unfocused and eyelids were half lidded.

“I’m sorry mommie..I’m- so sorry, pl-please.”

His whines were getting more high pitched and frequent. You watch as his soft pink fluffy waves nuzzle your neck. He wasn’t gonna last a minute longer.

Satisfied with how ruined he is, you plan to keep it up until he spills everywhere, until you hear small sniffles.

“I’ll- never do it again”.

He says your name like if he says it too loud he’ll be punished. Looking down at his flushed face, you see his tears.

You definitely planned on revenge but his tears really made you question if you overreacted.

Did you?

You suddenly get flashbacks of that woman’s reaction to his..accidental flirtation.

No your reaction was completely reasonable , if you say so yourself.

Kissing his neck, he lets out whiny sobs. Overstimulated as he cries out until he can’t even let out a peep, white glossed ropes shooting out of his red tip, ruining his jeans, your hand, and the floor.

You move along his shaft painfully slow, throughly making sure a drop wasn’t left.

He shivers, clearly still fucked out and trying to catch his breath.

You let em sit. He deserves a few seconds of air. Considering the fact you have 4 more rounds to go.

Such a pretty boyfriend

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