#I can already see some of you frothing at the mouth

[teddy-bear-d]

Oh I just know the desert duo enjoyers are going crazy over Grian accidentally calling Joel Scar when yelling at him for being reckless

[heich0e]

shouto has not stopped talking about his new nephew for an hour and fifty seven minutes.

you can't blame him, really, for not being able to stop rambling since he got home—you saw the photos he snapped on his phone, the sweet little boy is borderline cherubic. and it's his first nephew, after all, with touya being the first of the todoroki siblings to have any children. there's added novelty to this new arrival. the fact that the baby is so cute is just a serendipitous bonus.

"...and then he fell asleep right in my arms." shouto rinses his toothbrush under the stream of water flowing from the tap in your shared bathroom. half the story he'd just told had been lost to the froth of toothpaste in his mouth, talking around the toothbrush as he cleaned his teeth before bed, but he'd already told you this part of the story three times—so thankfully you didn't miss anything.

you smile as shouto wipes at the corner of his mouth with a towel hanging from the rail on one side of the bathroom, watching his reflection in the mirror. his eyes flicker up to meet yours in the surface of the glass, and he sees the mirthful twist at the corner of your mouth.

he turns to you in the narrow bathroom just off your bedroom and approaches you slowly, his arms winding around your waist as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. he's in his pajamas now, ready for bed, and without lifting his head or stepping away from you, he begins shuffling the two of you out the door towards your waiting bed in the next room. you can't help but giggle as you go, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck for balance, allowing him to guide you wherever he sees fit.

shouto leans you back gently once the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, crawling overtop of you to get to his side of the bed and then pulling you into his chest once more as he tugs the blankets up around you both.

"sounds like you had a lot of fun today," you remark quietly as you settle into bed, your fingers tracing idle patterns into the flat plane of shouto's sternum.

"i didn't expect him to be so small," shouto replies. "or to smell so good."

you want to laugh at his sincere tone of surprise, but hold it back.

"i hope i get to meet him soon, too," you say.

"touya says you're welcome any time," shouto insists. "he said i'm only welcome some of the time, though."

that really does make you laugh, because you can practically hear the eldest todoroki son's voice saying the words.

it's quiet for a while as you and shouto lay in bed, tangled up together.

"he's gonna make me the godfather," shouto finally says after a while—so softly you almost miss it. the remark, and the tenderness in his voice, makes something in your chest squeeze tight.

"that's so nice, sho," you answer.

"that means if anything ever happens to touya, we get the baby."

'we' he says—not i—like he doesn't for a second picture any future (even one where his beloved older brother has met some untimely demise) without you in it.

"don't wish anything ill on him just because you want to steal his cute baby," you tease him, lifting your head up and resting your chin against his chest so you can watch his face. he looks pensive, like he's really mulling over your words, and it makes you want to laugh again.

"but it would be nice, i think," shouto finally speaks again after his careful contemplation. "having the baby here with us."

heat floods up fast to your cheeks, and you glance away unconsciously. you're sure shouto has no idea what he's just said—still a little giddy from how smitten he is with his new nephew. but it still makes your mind go to places it shouldn't.

"no baby stealing," you reiterate firmly. flopping down again to go to sleep—if for no other reason than you suddenly find it hard to meet his gaze.

shouto sighs a little, but the sound is resigned like he's reluctantly agreeing to your terms. he eases you over onto your side so he can curl up behind you underneath the cover of your quilt, his strong arm looping over your waist.

the heat of shouto's breath hits the shell of your ear as his face rests on the pillow behind you, and you can still smell the spearmint from his toothpaste. his warmth seeps into you as he presses into your back. you close your eyes and luxuriate in the familiarity of it.

"we could have our own, you know," shouto's voice is much nearer to you than you expect it to be when he speaks again, his lips brushing against the back of your ear softly as they shape his words. his hand slips up underneath the t-shirt you wore to bed—the tips of his fingers feel scorching as they ghost across your skin. "and i bet our baby would be even cuter than touya's—no stealing required."

[boolger]

Never getting rid of me - John Price x reader

Hi sinners, so here are some dark!john price x reader thoughts that got out of hand. Yes, inspired by the song ‘never getting rid of me’, both the musical version but also the more creepy version by Egg on Spotify.

Dead dove don’t eat. Read the tags. Mdni. 18+. Tw creepy ass Price, stalking, kidnapping, non-con and dub-con, forced marriage, forced gender role/stereotypes, non-con punishments, loss of virginity, daddy kink, squirting, just….dont read if you’re looking for a sweet fic w John price. There will also be feet kink and scent kink.

Reader is chubby and described as having a pussy and perceived to be a woman by Price. Whether or not the reader actually is this, is up to you, really. besides that, i did my best to keep the description of reader vague. I apologize for any grammatical errors. English is not my first language and i am ttired

Something something dark! Price who sees you randomly at a coffee shop where you serve him awful tea - but it’s okay, pet, because you are the most beautiful and innocent thing Price has ever seen.

Dark!Price who knows it’s best to be sweet at first as to not scare you away - he can’t lose you this early, you’re perfect for his retirement after all, even though that’s far into the future. So despite the bloody awful tea, Price does his best to be a regular at the shop.

He even walks you home afterwards, you just don’t know it. He doesn’t consider it stalking — no no, he is just making sure you come home safe after your shift! Never know what kind of men are out there after all, besides himself of course.

While you’re at work, he breaks into your house early, going through everything throughout a couple of days. After an hour or two (sometimes three if he is feeling cheeky) he leaves, going to the shop to see you. He has time off before the next mission, what else is he supposed to do?

And is that a diary? Oh my, how convenient for Price, he needs to know his sweetheart's thoughts after all. And boy, does he learn a lot of fun things in that little book of yours

He becomes obsessed with very specific things in the following days — the way you write the letter J and P. The way you organize the fridge, the way your socks and underwear smells - so sweet, so perfect. All you. He liked how you read a lot of romance, how you always drank dr. Pepper every Friday evening. 

Okay, so you might prefer coffee, but don’t worry, Price knows he can fix that! You just need to taste actual tea, good tea, not the dog piss he drinks at the coffee shop almost every day by now.

He pulls a few strings and gets access to all of your electronics and oh isn’t it fun to see what you do on your phone every day, what music he needs to get on CD, because a silly lass like you can’t be trusted to have a phone when you get together in the future, can you? Not at first at least, maybe you can earn back the right with time.

Dark!Price loves seeing what kind of porn you watch. Loves seeing what your search words are, whether it’s kinky or not.

Especially after reading in your diary that you are a virgin! It has him frothing at his mouth, the urge to take you instantly, overwhelmingly strong when he sees the words for the first time.

Of course he always makes sure to put everything back in the exact same spot and way as he found it. Can’t have you stop writing in your sweet diary, it’s his favorite book already!

The first mission he goes on is awful. Sure everything goes smoothly and even though he has installed hidden cameras all over your apartment, it isn’t the same as being there.

Dark!Price who proudly shows you off to his team - the boys need to see who their captain is in love with after all. And he trusts his men, knows that they’re just as fucked up as him — they coo at the sight of you, of the few photos he has dared to take of you while you slept. Not his fault that you live in an apartment that is embarrassingly easy to break into, is it, pet? 

Dark!Price who feels so proud as his men drool over your soft curves, talking about your tits and ass and when Price mentions that you’re untouched, he is pretty sure Soap and Gaz almost come in their pants. Possibly Simon too, Price knows him, but he pretends he isn't as affected by the words - As if Price can’t see the man’s erection in his pants.

He gets everything ready, his little house in the middle of nowhere gets fixed up. He always imagined he would move into the house much later, when he actually retired but he can’t wait that long to have you. He loves the idea of having his missus all ready for him whenever he returns from work. All his. He would never let you go, you would always be his. He would take care of you forever - he already imagined bringing you to his mom, bless her. Old and sick, but you would charm her, he is sure.

Price who asks you out after two months of coming regularly to the coffee shop, putting on his best charming smile - and of course you, his future bride, says yes! All shyly, barely able to look him in the eyes, but there is a jump to your step afterwards and you’re grinning like you won the lottery.

Price, who is the perfect gentleman at the date, he takes you out somewhere nice, pays for everything despite your protests, soaks in all of your attention, who loves every second he spends with you. He is ready to declare his love for you at the end of the night but he knows it’s too early. He doesn’t try to kiss you, doesn’t even imply he wants to get in your knickers, despite his strong urge to do so. No, no need to scare you away.

so imagine Dark! Price’s reaction to seeing your diary entry the day afterwards - you describe him as too sweet, unsure if you’re ready for a relationship - almost upsets him, until the last line. He would probably be a nice person to lose my virginity to. That’s as good as a love confession to him! A bloody proposal almost and despite not having planned to move things along this quickly, well he has to, doesn’t he?

It’s embarrassingly easy to kidnap you together Gaz. He just happens to drive by you on your way home after a long shift, and saying “want a lift, sweetheart?” is all it takes.

Gaz who was hidden in the backseat and the moment the doors closes and locks, he sits up and uses one of those fancy syringes to stab you. Don’t make a fuss, don’t be silly, birdie, it’s all good! Just take a nap, eh? 

Nikolai and the rest of the team are almost finished packing up your things - they’ve been at it all day after all, dark!Price has personally packed the most important parts of your home, like that nice diary of yours, sextoys and underwear and all those nice photo albums you have. Nothing is getting left behind! You need to feel at home at his house after all. The boys almost deserve to have their fun with you at some point in the future.

He is there when you wake up, smiling happily at you, as you groggily take in the basement you’re currently in; See how some of your furniture is down there, the nice green color he painted the walls, how it’s your own lampshade hanging from the ceiling. He lets you take in the wedding dress hanging proudly in front of the wardrobe, the little bathroom not too far from you - the cameras that hang everywhere, not even attempting to be discreet. He has to make sure you’re behaving after all.

Dark!Price who gets incredibly turned on when you realize you’re wearing a metal collar and chained to the wall - the way your eyes widens and how confusion visibly changes into fear. Like a little prey releasing they’re in a trap - and unable to get out.

he is extremely proud over how he doesn’t take you right then and there, despite how much he wants too.

Oh how adorable your attempts at attacking him are! Even though you’re still groggy from those nasty sedatives, you hit his chest and try to claw at him. Screaming and crying, throwing a proper tantrum! He can’t help but laugh as you threaten him. “sure you’ll go to the police, pet” he agrees while he easily catches your fist that was aiming for his nose, “but no I’m not letting you go.”

you scream bloody murder, as if he has done you anything. Ridiculous. But Price patiently (and easily) fights you off all day. Teasing back, pointing out that it’s not that bad down here, trying to explain that the two of you are going to be together forever.

Price who lets you run out of energy that first day, until you’re a sobbing mess - gathering you into his arms, promising you that he is never gonna leave you, that you’re never getting rid of him. Not like all those other people in your life, no don’t worry, princess! Price will be your daddy, he will make sure you have everything you need! You’re not even going to work at that lousy job anymore, pet, don’t worry, he already quit it for you. 

Dark! Price, who is all sweet and gentle as he comforts you, kissing your forehead and temple, muttering about how silly you are - that he understands that you might feel a little overwhelmed - but look at how pretty your wedding dress is, sweetheart! All in the different sizes as well, don’t worry, he has taken your measurements and bra sizes and everything, his missus doesn't have to worry about anything. He saw your Pinterest boards, Gaz and Soap showed him how the website works, and saw all the different dresses you had dreamt of. Isn’t this perfect? Just for you!!

Dark! Price who doesn’t outright admit to having read your diary, breaking in or stalking you, despite all those accusations of yours… no no, he didn’t he just … got ready for the two of you to be together - but of course he knows so much about you sweetheart, he has seen the daddy kink porn you watch regularly, yeah he knows you’re a virgin. No no, he won’t rape you, what’s that all about? No, you’re saving your virginity to marriage, you’re a good girl - the two of you can wait another week, that’s nothing.

and after everything, how nice he has been and how he has sat everything up in the basement you’re still angry with him? Don’t be absurd, sweetheart, you would come around soon - you were going to be his missus after all, what kind of wife would you be if you didn’t want to talk to him?

Something something, he ends up pushing you to the floor, holding your hands down as he takes his time to properly smell you. Your pussy, over your clothes, don’t worry - your armpits. Grabs your ankle and sniffs your foot too. Sweet all over!

dark! Price who loses control of his anger when you throw the entire tray of breakfast that he made for you, at him. The tea is not too hot because of the milk, but still. You made a mess and that isn’t nice. He takes you over his knee for that, slapping your arse and upper thighs sore, leaves you an absolute mess. He apologizes afterwards of course, not really because he feels bad about it, but because you made him do that. He has to make sure you understand that there are consequences for your actions! 

Dark!Price who keeps you downstairs in that little basement of his, while you get your worst fits over with. He expected these, you’re a strong woman after all, you just need to understand that the two of you are meant for each other. Next week the boys will swing by and they’ll be witnesses as the two of you get married - isn’t that grand?

No, the shop won’t be looking for you, bird, don’t worry about that! You already quit immediately - had to move home for a family emergency, but you were very sorry about it. You already terminated your apartment lease too, moved out already! Pesky family emergency again, innit? No no don’t cry pet, Price knows you don’t have any family you’re close with, it’s okay. Nobody is hurt! All is good! You’re just being silly, you don’t know how good all of this will be for you. How you will be a perfect missus!

He will threaten and hurt you all week, but not touch that sweet pussy of yours - grope you? Sure, but nothing more than that. You’re not married yet after all. 

Price who sweetly explains that he knows you love him, even if you can’t say it out loud yet! That’s alright, sweet pet, you will be able to soon!

Dark! Price who happily makes it clear to you that making any kind of fuss at the town hall and they will kill everyone. You won’t have to wear the beautiful dress at the town hall, no, Price got you something much more simple, they don’t deserve to see you at your most beautiful - it will be quick anyways, don’t worry sweetheart. Just sign the papers. No fuss, remember? No protest - look, all the boys dressed up nicely in suits - and look! They’re all armed as well. Would be a bloody shame if you were guilty of getting so many people killed, wouldn’t it?

dark! Price who kisses you for the first time after you sign the papers, who almost wants to lick off the tears rolling down your cheeks as the workers of the town hall coos, thinking you’re crying from happiness. And you are, but you’re also a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, pet? Better get you home again.

dark!price who dresses you up at home, forcing you to swirl in your dress in front of his men, Nikolai and Laswell. All of them ignore your attempts at asking for help and you’re a quick learner - you figure out that they’re not going to help you after a few attempts. You’re his girl, his sweet missus, and you’re handcuffed as you sit on his lap during their dinner at home, being fed all the nicely made dinner from a fancy restaurant. You don’t even throw a fuss as you eat all together, so you’re rewarded with some champagne and wine. Good tasting, aren’t they?

Dark!Price who grins as he sends his guests on their merry way, while you begin to cry again, begging to not be left alone with him - aw, you’re so sweet when you’re getting nervous. Is the wine getting to your head?

Dark! Price who throws you over his shoulder then, not bringing you down to the basement but instead into your new shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, taking in the sight of you like this. In your wedding dress, surrounded by rose petals, painted all warm colors by the sunset. Cooing at you as you hiccup and cry and hide your face behind your hands, saying you don’t want to. Don’t worry, he will be nice! All gentle for you, pet, it will feel good!

Dark!Price who cuffs you to the bed, pushing up that nice dress of yours to expose your bottom half. Looking at the pretty lace he forced you into earlier, praising you for how beautiful you look! He kisses your thighs, keeping your legs open with his strong hands, taking his time. Finally the two of you are married. You’re going to be his in every way now! With a ring on your finger, a new name — losing your innocence to your husband.

Dark! Price who eats you, Mrs. Price, out all lovingly, enjoying the sounds that escape you against your will. Loving your taste, loving the way your legs shake, the way you cry as he ducks on your clit. He makes you come on his tongue and then fingers, and you’re perfect! Squirting for him! He is lapping up the sweetness that pours from you! See, he will make it feel good for you. He even frees your hands. 

Dark! Price who shushes your cries as he pushes his fat cock into your hole, ruining your sweet pussy for everybody else; he can feel how wet you are for him, croons at how good your cunt feels. How daddy will take care of you, just breathe. Yeah, just like that, c’mon princess, look down to see how the two of you are connected! He pushes in the last couple of inches the moment you look down, taking in your cry with pride, drowning in pleasure and ownership.

You’re so wet and warm around his big cock, he couldn’t help himself, lass! His perfect wife with a perfect cunt, feels so good - he is going to fill you up, don’t worry, but not until he has made you come again and again.

dark!Price who whispers “i know I know, pet,” as you whimper over how it feels weird, how it hurts because his cock is so big. Who drinks in the sight of you as he licks two fingers before slipping them in between the two of you, gently rubbing at your clit and oh, that feels nice, doesn’t it?

Dark! Price who finally begins to fuck you then - no, he isn’t fucking you, he is making love to you. The first round is all sweet and gentle, he is claiming you, taking his time. Covering you in kisses as he rolls his hips, touching all those soft places of yours. He wants to run his tongue over those stretch marks, wants to fuck his cock in between those two breasts of yours. But for now he fucks you as you deserve, enjoying your little moans and whines that grows stronger and louder, the way your body shakes and the way you grab onto his shoulder and back. How those sweet nails of yours digs into his skin.

Dark! Price who makes you come twice, cooing in your ear about how you wanted it after all, how you’re his wife forever now - before he comes himself, hot cum shooting deep inside of you.

The second round isn’t as gentle in any way - it’s after twenty minutes of holding and kissing you, cuddling you and declaring his love, that he takes you again. He fucks you, properly. He makes the bed rock as he fucks into you, making you scream and trash, before surprising the both of you by squirting again. 

Dark! Price who almost fucks you the entire night - yeah, he might have taken some viagra, but he honestly wouldn’t even have needed it, because you naked in front of him is enough. Wedding dress ripped to shreds, cum all over it and over you. You’re fucked from behind, then in a mating press. You pass out during the last round, much to his amusement! Sweet missus, all tired, eh? That’s okay, the two of you got the rest of your lives together - forever and ever, because you’re never getting rid of Price. Never.

[surielstea]

Words on Paper

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s jealous over a male in your book and it’s hilarious.

Warnings: Just fluff, short Drabble :)

1k words

You and Nesta hadn't shut up about the men in your books all morning. The new Sellyn Drake novel had come out less than a week ago and the both of you couldn't stop raving about it, you swore you had dreams about the characters, and when you weren't caught up in the plot you were analyzing the characters, the male love interest specifically who Nesta and you were all but frothing at the mouth over.

"I need him, unfortunately," Nesta sighed, looking over to me as we held our planks. Valkyrie training seemed to go a lot faster when the both of you got the chance to debrief over chapters and share what you were passionate about, Cassian didn't seem to care as long as we stayed on task and kept up with the movements.

The exercises had become second nature to the both of you, sure it wasn't as mindless as breathing but after it's been part of your routine for weeks it truly does come naturally, like a second language that only the two of you can speak.

Azriel was slow to insanity at this point. He couldn't seem to adjust to the idea of you taking interest in anyone but him. With Mates, the rule is that if the bond is accepted then there's no one else for that person, intertwined by fate.

So why was he so irritated when you rambled too long about a guy from a book?

"Are you two working out your mouths too?" Azriel stands above you, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, you look up at him with a wide grin. "Sorry, sir," you tease. Nesta shakes her head in exasperation and you giggle.

It took one minute of silence until Nesta and you were whispering amongst each other again.

Azriel seems to have given up days ago, his eyes narrowed at you from across the sparring mats, Cassian next to him as they drink their waters.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Azriel asks his brother, continuing to stare at both of their mates. “Does what?” Cassian turned to him with an arched brow. “That they’re so obsessed with those men from their little smut novels,” Azriel mutters and Cassian nearly laughs at the death glare the Shadow Singer was saving for the fictional male, who as of late was threatening to take his wife away.

“It’s just words on paper,” Cass shrugs, bending down to place his water on the ground. “I know but, the idea of her wanting anyone else gets under my skin,” Azriel argues and this time Cassian does laugh, it was so odd to see the revered Spymaster so torn up about some guy, who wasn’t even real. “What’re you jealous of him?” Cassian scoffs through his laughter. Azriel rolls his eyes and puts his water down. “Whatever, just don’t come crying when you can’t satisfy Nesta anymore,” He grumbled.

“I doubt that day will come,” Nesta hums from behind the Shadow Singer. He knew she was there, you with her, but he needed to get his point across. “Hey hun, you ready to go?” You dip under his arm, placing a hand on his bare chest. He only nodded in reply.

“Hey, remember what I said, it’s just words Az,” Cassian said before you got the chance to winnow him away, he nodded once more then you took him home.

You didn’t want to know what the General was going on about, you could tell from training Azriel was a little irritated but you couldn’t remember doing anything to irk him.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just keep pouting like a baby?” You ask and he scowls down at you. You smile, hands coming to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he barely has time to reciprocate it before you’re pulling away.

“What’s got you so tense?” You smush his cheeks together and he just stares at you in reply, so you begin to guess. “Something Cass did?” You ask and he shakes his head no. “Something I did?” He doesn’t move and you deflate, flinging your arms over his shoulders and melting into him. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong, please?” You sigh into his neck, already admitting defeat. “Do you like him more than me?” He blurts and you stiffen, pulling away to look up at him confused. “Like who?” You utter. “The guy in your stupid book,” He grumbled and you openly cackled before slapping a hand over your lips. “It’s not funny,” He groans backing away from your touch and plopping down onto the sofa, where he could sulk in peace. “I know, I’m sorry Az,” You say, taking deep breaths to control your giggles. “I’m just saying, what does he have that I don’t?” He frowns and you walk over to him, sprawling over his lap and straddling his hips. “Perhaps a control on his emotions?” You tease and he grumbles beneath his breath like a child, looking away from you.

It was true that Azriel was quite explosive. One would think he’d be less reactive as the Spymaster and yet he might’ve been the quickest to action out of all the inner circle. It was a weakness, something he was working on. It was rude of you to point it out but you make up for it by peppering a line of loving kisses up the side of his face.

“I love you, okay? Only you,” You reassure. “Those men, they’re meant to be thirsted over, you understand that don’t you?” You ask and the male nods. “I just don’t want you wanting anyone else,” He looks at me and my grin widens. “Awh, Az,” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “I’m all yours, don’t worry,” You muffle into his neck. “Yeah? All mine?” He asks and you nod rapidly before saying, “Promise,”

“Now stop acting like a big baby,” you pull away from the hug and hold his face in your hands. “I’m gonna go bathe, you gonna keep moping out here or do you wanna join me?” You tease. He doesn’t answer and instead picks you up from where you sit and walks you straight to the bathing chambers.

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[hotheadedhero]

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.” 

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard.  "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated. 

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late. 

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't. 

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission. 

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air. 

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point. 

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself. 

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring. 

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done. 

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months. 

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.” 

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things. 

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest. 

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

[devils-dares]

Mac N' Cheese

summary: waking up in the middle of the night with pregnancy cravings

pairing: carmen berzatto x pregnant!reader

wordcount: 526

warnings: language, smoking

a/n: first carmy fic! let me know what you think + join my celebration!

-----

Gooey gooey pull apart cheese… crispy bread crumbs sprinkled in… perfectly boiled pasta.

If you didn’t get your hands on the mac and cheese from that place on Second Street right this second-

You had just fallen asleep when you started salivating- frothing at the mouth- for the damn mac and cheese. You toss and turn, even getting up to take a sip or two of water to wash that craving out of your mouth but it doesn’t work.

Your phone lights up the dark room as you check the hours for that place. Of course it’s closed, it’s two in the morning. You groan quietly, not wanting to wake your boyfriend.

But it’s so cheesy and messy and-

“What’s goin’ on?” He says, startling you.

“N-nothing, go back to sleep.” He groans, sitting up. He rubs his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“Is pumpkin botherin’ you?”

“She wants the mac and cheese from that place on Second.” He blinks in the darkness.

“It’s probably closed.”

“It is, I checked.”

“...we can grab some tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Your mouth falls into a pout. “Your daughter’s givin’ me heartburn for this damn mac and cheese.”

“Pumpkin, quit the heartburn, it’s sleepy time.” He slides back down, resting his head on his pillow again.

The son of a bitch yawns and falls right back asleep. You glare at his slumbering form- must be fuckin’ nice- his breaths evening out into a sweet slumber.

A sigh, more tossing and turning. Carmy wakes up, leaving the bed.

“Where are you goin’?” You ask, but he doesn’t respond, instead mumbling something incoherent and walking out of the bedroom.

“Stay.”

“I’m not a dog-”

“Will you just not argue with me for one night? God, always sayin’ shit. I get all the damn naggin’ from work already. Could make that shit better than that fuckin’ place on Second.” He says, voice fading as he walks to the kitchen. You yell after him, but still you stay put sitting in the bed.

You can almost smell the cheese, imagining floating to the kitchen on the smell like a fucking cartoon. You hear him grumbling about, and a window opens. He’s been smoking out the window since you got pregnant, trying to limit the amount of second-hand you get exposed to. You’ve been trying to get him to quit, but he cites specifically Richie as his “pulmonary demise”.

His footsteps grow closer and closer, and you see his silhouette in the doorway.

“Bear special for you and the pumpkin.” He serves it to you all messy and gooey, breadcrumbs sprinkled haphazardly on the top.

“Holy fuck.” You say, snatching the bowl from him and digging in almost immediately. He sighs, clambering back into bed and pulling the covers up and over his head.

“Go to town.” He says, and you can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice.

You destroy it, the cheese pulling apart from the noodles so messy, all golden and crunchy from the breadcrumbs.

It’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“Carmy, Carmy.”

“Hm?”

“Did you have any extra?” He turns over quickly to peek at you.

“You fuckin’ finished it all already?”

[uwukillmenowowo]

Hello I saw your platonic Crk story with the beast cookies and I was just rewatching the theater of lies episode and I got an idea, what if the reader gets so angry at Shadow milk cookie that they just scream "SHUT IT!" which stuns everyone into silence not even knowing the reader could get that mad, if you're not comfortable with writing this or simply don't want to that's completely alright 😊

o_O

interesting- Interesting indeed-

I could've made this so much more simple but- I didn't ToT

Annoyance

[PLATONIC]

(Beast Cookies X Reader)

Notes:

Reader will be Non-binary

#Peaceful Mode

Simple mind things

The Beasts were revived. What was the first thing they did? Find their little sibling of course.

{SecondPOV}

~~~~~

You were shocked to see your old friends in front of front of you again. The difference was not only in their appearance and names but their personality too. Blueberry Milk in particular. Or rather... Shadow Milk Cookie. He used to be your best friend... Now he's your greatest annoyance.

Before he was the most quiet and the "Hold my hand when crossing the road" friend now he's the "Jackass bitch I wanna strangle but they're still my friend" friend.

Ever day..

And I mean- EVER DAY- He's annoying you with something different before rambling on and on.

"[Reader] Cookie, why did you dye your frosting? You know I loved it [H/c]? Can I change it back?"

"[Reader] Cookie, Why are your drawing the soul jam thieves?... What do you mean they aren't thieves!?"

"[Reader] Cookie, who are Espresso Cookie and Madeline Cookie? They aren't your boyfriends are they?"

"[Reader] Cookie~! Come look at my new puppets~!"

You were getting fed up because most of the time he would bother you when you're working on important stuff.

But this time. You were working on something VERY important. Crushed Spice- Err... Burning Spice Cookie. He recently had to fight the other Wild spices because something happened. In the process, his favorite bracelet got damaged and you were fixing it.

Before, Burning Spice didn't really care about his appearance, but now he did. He wanted to look powerful and offered you somehting you couldn't refuse. So you had to fix it for him.

Leaning in closer so that you can see it better, you carefully started to melt some golden cheese so that you can fix it. Liquid cheese can get very hot so you had to be very careful when- "Wow! Would you look at that!" "WAAAHHH!!"

Screaming in shock at the sudden cookie you dropped all the liquid cheese onto Burning Spice's bracelet, absolutely covering it in liquid cheese. You stared at Shadow Milk Cookie before looking at Burning Spice's bracelet, and then back at Shadow Milk Cookie. "Are you kidding me...?" You asked in disbelief.

"Heeey~ What's it matter? I just-" You started to tune out Shadow Milk Cookie as you stared at the ruined bracelet.

THE ONE THING THAT BURNING SPICE WANTED SO THAT HE WOULD TAKE YOU TO MEET THE OTHER SPICES.

Yup! That was it! All you wanted was the meet the other Spices! but Burning Spice never allowed you because it was too dangerous! The reason why you've always wanted to go is because you helped a little Kulfi get home a couple years ago and you promised to meet them again!

"-Surely it can't be that bad-"

"SHUT IT ALREADY YOU UNKNOWLEDGEABLE, DECEPTIVE- *grumble* *grumble* DUMMY!!"

Shadow Milk, who sat across from you, paused.

Burning Spice who just walked in to check on his bracelet, went slack jawed.

Silent Salt, who was with Burning Spice, felt his soul gem die.

Mystic Flour and Eternal Sugar gasped and snorted respectively.

They didn't know how to react. How could they? Years ago, you were the cookie who would always say, "Mind your manners, it's not nice" With a small pout on your face.

But now- you just told your best friend that he was being an annoying bitch-

Shadow Milk Cookie in particular, stared at you in shock.

All of a sudden- he fainted and started frothing at the mouth.

Meanwhile, you just walked away, grumbling to yourself.

"That's not my best friend... Never has been."

~ (OwO) ~

I could've made this more simple than it had to be so I dunno why I went with lore...

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 31

part 1 | part 30 | ao3

updating the rating to E. cw: recreational drug use/marijuana, foreplay, mild-to-moderate spit kink

“I feel like a water bottle,” Steve slurs. At some point he wiggled his way between Eddie’s legs to get a better look at his tattoos — starting at his ankles and working his way up, pointing at each piece and asking, "What's this? And what's that?"

Eddie explained each one in turn: the quotes, the lyrics, the silly art. "This one's the Elvish word for friend. That one's from an Iron Maiden song. Oh, the asterisk? It's supposed to be an asshole. No, I'm serious! That's how Vonnegut drew them in his books."

Now Steve’s lying flat on his back between Eddie’s splayed thighs, eyelids heavy, body warm. 'Go Your Own Way' plays softly on the stereo, and Eddie continues his tattoo tour, the fingers of his free hand weaving patterns through Steve's hair — lazy, twirling zig-zags that send skitters of sensation across his scalp and down his spine.

Steve feels like he could die right now. Happy. Held. Content.

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

“This is fucking awesome,” he hums.

“Good,” Eddie grins at him, “I’m glad.” He scratches lightly at his scalp. “What were you, uh— what were you saying about a water bottle?”

Oh, right. Steve lifts a hand; pantomimes tilting a bottle back and forth. “Like, uh….. Sssloshy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie snorts. “You’re so high.”

“Mmmmhm.”

“And you look like you’re jerking off a ghost."

“I’ll jerk off your ghost,” Steve mutters petulantly.

"I’m sure my ghost would love that.”

Eddie reaches for the joint and takes another drag, and Steve tilts his neck, arching up to look at him. Bites his lip at the pretty picture Eddie makes: the sharp shadows and delicate lines, the shape of his full lips exhaling rings of smoke. Big for a guy's. He remembers thinking that a couple weeks ago. That they were big. That they looked soft.

And now he thinks: Kissable.

Steve licks his lips. “What about your, uh- not ghost?”

Eddie laughs like he’s watching a newborn puppy try to walk. “You want to touch my dick so bad.”

“S’probably a good dick,” Steve shrugs, unashamed.

He probably should be — ashamed. Guilty for the feelings stirring deep inside his chest; feelings weed brings to the surface, sends southbound, turns to need. He can imagine how the good, god-fearing Catholics who raised him would react if they could see him now, how they'd foam and froth and rage, red-faced and covered in spittle as they shouted that he's condemning himself to Hell.

But the thing is, he's already in Hell. He's been here since July.

And anyway, Hell's kinda nice. Gentle and warm, surprisingly kind. Hell smells like leather and tobacco, like weed and aftershave, and it sounds like Lindsey Buckingham, and it likes to braid Steve's hair.

Hell has endless, inky eyes and probably kisses him with tongue.

Heat spreads through him like molten honey at the thought, spilling hot over the edges, curling in his core, and Steve turns his head to the side and drags his mouth over a tattoo on Eddie’s inner thigh — a cartoon cloud over a curled-up snoozing fox. He noses at the edge of Eddie's shorts; pushes them up.

Goosebumps pebble under the warm press of his lips. "What's this one?" Steve whispers, nudging the fabric further up.

Eddie’s laugh is quiet and strained. "Something I don't want to discuss with your mouth this close to my dick. Stevie," he warns, but it's breathless, full of want. There's a wet spot on his shorts.

Steve pushes onto his belly, blows hot breath over the spot, liquid fire coursing through him at he stares at the bulge in Eddie’s shorts. Blistering heat, the sweetness dense, rich and thick on his tongue; in his veins. He mouths at the crease of Eddie's thigh. Eddie smells so good, like skin and sweat and boy, and Steve wants this. Wants it so badly he feels the ache inside his teeth. I dreamed the goddess poured ambrosia...

Steve feels it drip from head to toe.

"Steve." Eddie's voice is sharp this time, commanding and firm as he fists a hand in Steve's hair — not hurting him; not letting him move. Keeping him from putting his mouth just where he wants.

Steve makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips against the bed.

"Steve, stop," Eddie scolds. Pulls his hair a little harder, like he’s tugging on a leash.

"Eddie, please.” Steve’s eyes roll back, and he shifts his hips again. Just once; just a bit. Not nearly hard enough.

"No. Behave. Be good."

Steve freezes — tenses every muscle, holds himself so still, his face flushing with shame, because he didn’t mean to not be good. Didn’t mean to do anything bad. He blinks at Eddie with watery eyes and says he’s sorry, his voice cracking around the word.

"God," Eddie groans. His fist tightens in Steve’s hair, and his hips twitch off the bed, the curve of his cock brushing the tip of Steve's nose. Fuck. "Holy shit. Roll over."

"What?"

"On your back, like you were before." He’s panting when he says it, and Steve does as he's told; flips over onto his back, face bracketed by Eddie's thighs, the tent in his own shorts embarrassingly big. Obvious.

"Good,” Eddie exhales. “That’s- Jesus. Yeah, that’s good." He sinks back against the wall with a winded sigh.

And then he doesn't say anything else.

Doesn’t even move, just slouches down to catch his breath.

Steve kind of wants to cry; feels chastised and stupid, because of course Eddie doesn't want this. He already said he didn't, didn't he? Not tonight, anyway. And now Steve’s ruined things by being high and dumb and selfish, getting himself worked up over nothing and making it Eddie’s problem, and he'll probably spend the rest of this night miserable and blue-balled because he's a horny idiot, but that's—

It’s fine, if Eddie wants to cool things off; if he doesn't want to— he's allowed to not want—

"Here's what's about to happen.”

Steve snaps his head up to listen. Twists his neck around, sees Eddie lounging against the wall like a bored king on a throne, one ringed hand cupping himself loosely through his shorts. He squeezes once, takes another deep breath; lets it out long and controlled. Steve’s gonna fucking drool. "You’re gonna touch yourself for me.”

Steve moans. Guttural and loud, the sound punched out of his lungs, because Eddie’s voice comes out like gravel — husky, deep, the words authoritative and slow; like Steve needs to be punished; like Eddie’s merciful.

“You’re going to touch yourself exactly how I tell you to, and only how I tell you to. If I say stop, you stop. If I say faster, you speed up. If it's too much—" His hand moves to Steve’s cheek, slapping lightly against the bone. “—you tap out, or you tell me.”

Steve nods his head, entranced. Eddie’s thumb moves to his mouth. “And if you’re very, very good…” He tugs his bottom lip; presses in; lets him suck. “…then I’ll let you watch me come. How does that sound?”

Steve whines; hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. Eddie’s thighs clamp down around him, and when he pulls his hand away the spit clings to his thumb, a delicate string connecting them before it breaks. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.” He smears the spit over Steve’s chin. “Does that sound good?”

Steve nearly swallows his tongue.

—

part 32

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[writingforatwistedworld]

Requests are open?? May I request Lilia and Malleus from the self aware au with a player who is an artist and draws them a lot?

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, death, murder, hypocrisy, fire, coma, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player is an artist who draws them a lot

Doesn't matter what kind of style and form of art you practice, you have a fan

Classical? Great! Realism? Wonderful! Stick-man-style? He put the picture in a golden frame (All hail the stick-man style!)

But if Malleus were to ever find out that said stick man is supposed to be him, well he would be over the moon

It was a totally normal day, a cat was choking up a hairball and some poor student fell off of his broom in flying class and was now stuck in a tree

But that is of no importance to us

What is of importance though is Malleus strolling down the path down to Ramshackle and seeing you sit on the stairs with paper and other drawing utensils

Completely normal. Peaceful even. Maybe a bit too peaceful

You see, if you hadn't been too absorbed into rubbing colored pigments into dead wood then you would have seen the tall black wall approaching you

A shadow falls over your shoulder and you scream

Is that... him? Why is the Overseer draw-oh

Malleus is metaphorically (more or less. Meh, he is probably this close to doing it also literally) frothing from his mouth after seeing himself in more than just one paper after the small stack stabilizing the paper you drew on slipped from your hands

Forgetting his manners he rips the paper from the ground, staring with eyes wide as plates onto the thinly pressed wood (granny is somewhere shaking her head)

Why would the Overseer, watcher over worlds, almighty ruler of everything, a god, draw him?

Coughing nervously you explained that you just are interested in are and liked to draw him

Later when he is back in Diasomnia Lilia is greeted with the sight of a tail-wagging Malleus (yes Malleus has a tail and I have no idea how he hides it)

“Lilia, the Overseer likes to draw me.”-moments before calamity struck and Malleus accidentally lit the dorm aflame from sheer joy

But... perhaps you shouldn't draw anyone else

Who knows? Maybe that person disappears for a while and just to be found in a deep coma (don't do it)

Whoa whoa whoa darling, let us not jump at him from nowhere with the fact that you like to draw him

After all, he is quite old and we don't know what his poor heart can still take

Now how about you tell him about your interest in art fir- ah... From your expression I take that it is too late for that

Indeed it is

One day you were just sitting there in Ramshackle, T-posing or whatever you do when you are not drawing

Remember that scene when Lilia was introduced to us? Well “How do you do fellow kids” over here just popped out of thin air

Now, that would have been nothing special if it wasn't for the stack of paper with his face on it on the table...

Lilia is staring, you are staring and the gargoyles are facepalming

Poor man has to take a seat all whilst you watch him with cold sweat running down your back

Suddenly Lilia isn't that “always energetic” guy but looks a lot more vulnerable

In Lilias mind however he is planning how to burn that one portrait of himself in the Draconia castle and replace it with your art

Or so he thought until he looked what else you drew

For goodness sake, someone call an ambulance! I think he is about to pass out!

If the situation wasn't already awkward enough for you (and euphoric for him) Lilia suddenly kneels down, saying something about being honored and him swearing to be forever loyal to you

Oh sweet summer child, how easily you told him “Oh thanks...” If only you knew what would follow...

You see, Lilia might have had seen a few too many heads being severed from their bodies but, oh well, all those students were a teeny tiny bit too close to you for his comfort

Suddenly there is an increase in missing students who get found in... uh... “not compatible with life” conditions

See? It's dangerous outside! Let him watch over you!

Says the person responsible for everything

You had shown your appreciation through your art, now it's his turn to show his

And what if a few students need to get hurt? (Yeah, “hurt”)

[atzloverr]

Selfish desire - chapter 9

previous chapter - next chapter

series masterlist

warnings! includes abusive relationships, bruises and other indicators of physical abuse, manipulation, depictions of violence, Yunho x reader (finally he gets some action even though it’s small)

You looked at the mirror in front of you. Dark bruises, cuts and rashes, that was just the beginning.

Your own features felt foreign to you. Who was this person? Had you turned into somebody else when entering this hellhole? You couldn’t tell.

You still recognized your eyes. They were the same ones you had had all your life. They were the only indicator that this was in fact you, not some sort of monster created by hate disguised as love.

It was a floor length mirror, so nothing was concealed. The sterile lights of the bathroom made you look like some sort of science project.

Although you recognized them, you had never seen your eyes this empty. Even as you looked right at your own reflection, they looked as if they stared into a void of nothingness. Perhaps that was what you wished you could see on the reflective surface. Nothing.

You walked over to the bathtub, and turned off the running water. This was going to be your first time getting cleaned since arriving here. And of course, you were not allowed to do it by yourself. You had managed to bargain with Hongjoong, only letting him come in when you were already in the bathtub.

It was shocking he even had some compassion for you after all that he had done for the past two days.

Endless torture. No rest. No food. No company besides him.

You submerged into the warm water, hissing as your fairly fresh cuts stung when coming in contact with the water. It was immediately colored red. You wished you could shower, but when finding out that you would be joined by Hongjoong, you didn’t feel like showing everything to him.

He had already seen enough.

“Come in,” you muttered, having completely sat down in the bathtub. Hongjoong only wore a robe, almost making you fear that he was going to enter the bath with you.

You hugged your knees to your chest, looking into the reddened water. Hongjoong pulled out a stool next to the tub.

“Does it feel nice?” Hongjoong purred.

You closed your eyes. “Kind of”

You weren’t lying. While being in this hot water stung like hell, this was one of the things you had been craving ever since being kidnapped. Cleaning yourself up.

“Wet your hair for me please,” Hongjoong said. You didn’t know how to feel about any of this. He had gone from treating you like an inhumane being with who he can do whatever he pleases, to this fragile flower who he suddenly cherishes.

You followed his request, and covered your chest as your head submerged into the water. For a second you almost feared that he would push your head under the water, so you quickly pulled your head back up again.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he said, squirting some shampoo in his hand. “Your punishment is done.”

You couldn’t resist the sigh of relief that left you. He giggled slightly. You turned your back against him, letting his fingers massage your scalp, the shampoo frothing up and slowly cleaning your hair. A small moan left your lips, making you cover your mouth in embarrassment.

Hongjoong let out another small laugh. “It’s okay. I want you to enjoy it here,” he said. You looked down. Was that what he interpreted that as? Enjoying it here?

You weren’t enjoying it here. You were simply happy to finally get cleaned after living in a dirty basement for days and then getting brutally tortured for trying to escape.

You didn’t dare to talk back. Just like how you didn’t dare to ask him why he was going to wash your hair, or why he even did all of this in the first place.

You had learned already, that asking questions led you nowhere.

“You can rinse it now,” he said, rinsing his own hands in the water.

You weren’t sure how your cuts would react to having soap in them, but once again, didn’t dare to ask.

As you let your own fingers massage your scalp under the warm water, Hongjoong having turned away to let you do your business, you didn’t even stifle the heavy breaths exiting you. You felt like crying from how nice this felt.

Hongjoong insisted on washing your back with body wash, letting you do the rest of your body. He ran his fingers over the bruises he had left by whipping you. Luckily, he didn’t manage yo break any skin. His fingers traced your spine next, as the soap coated your back.

“You’ve lost weight. That’s no good,” he tutted, a small pout on his lips. You wanted to scream at the comment. He said it as if it hadn’t all been because of him. “I’ll have to make sure to feed you well,” he smiled contentedly.

You put on the bathrobe Hongjoong had prepared for you, and sat down on the large bed as you had been instructed. Hongjoong hummed a tune as be patched you up with bandages, a fond smile on his lips. You looked down at him in disbelief. When you expected tears to exit your eyes, they remained dry. Perhaps you had run out.

Just like Seonghwa, it was as if Hongjoong also had the ability to switch personalities. Was this really the cruel monster who had tortured you the other night?

You thought back on some of the words he said the first night.

“I bet your parents would be disappointed to see that you didn’t actually die.”

That comment wouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, if it weren’t for the fact that you almost agreed with him.


You hadn’t spoken to your parents ever since you left home to go to university. They were no longer a part of your life. In all those waking hours you had spent in that basement, they had often occupied your mind. Did they miss you? Was Hongjoong perhaps just telling you the harsh truth when he said those cruel words?

You swallowed, the memory almost making you feel ill. “What’s going on?” he asked. Your eyes widened in fear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Tell me the truth. You know I don’t like liars.” You stiffened up at those last words. You definitely knew that.

“I’m just thinking about my parents,” you said, almost bracing yourself to earn some sort of punishment once again. Hongjoong clicked his tongue. Not in a matter of annoyance though, rather a patronizing one.

“It’s okay darling,” he tucked your wet hair behind your ear. “You have us now.”

You mentally questioned the statement, but was interrupted by three stable knocks on the door.

Hongjoong quickly stood up from his crouching position, having already finished patching you up. He unlocked the door with the key from his pocket. The sound of those keys rattling almost unlocked a reaction in you. You had only heard those sounds when Hongjoong was leaving you to lie bleeding out on the floor, or when he came back to teach you yet another lesson.

Seonghwa entered the room, his arms behind his back. You stood up from your position on the bed, feeling vulnerable suddenly. You had not met anyone else than Hongjoong for these past few days.

Seonghwa slowly walked closer to you, a small smile on his face. What you hadn’t expected, was for him to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace. He breathed in the fresh scent of the shampoo Hongjoong had chosen to use on you. You reluctantly hugged him back.

“There you are my darling. I’ve missed you so much,” he said.

You didn’t even know what to answer. You hadn’t exactly left. Seonghwa had let all of this unfold, only the house walls separating you.

He pulled away from you, and his teary eyes met your confused ones for a second. He wore a shy smile on his lips, his hands still slightly gripping your arms. You couldn’t ignore the pain blossoming in your arms at his grip, the bruises still so fresh. Avoiding his gaze, you tried to keep a straight face despite the ache at Seonghwa’s touch.

A satisfied sigh left you when his hands finally left you. “I’ll go get started on dinner,” Seonghwa smiled, leaving the room after placing a small kiss on Hongjoong’s cheek. You only now realized how bad your perception of time had become. Hongjoong had purposefully kept the blinds closed, not giving you any indication of how long it had been, or how long you had left of your punishment.

“Let’s get you dressed,” Hongjoong smiled, closing the door behind Seonghwa. You sat down on the bed again, letting out a deep exhale as you bounced down on the soft mattress.

Hongjoong pulled out his keys once again, entering the large walk-in closet he and Seonghwa shared. You peeked into the room as the lights turned on, almost gasping at the huge amount of clothes. You were still baffled by the amount of money the two seemed to have.

He quickly came out to the bedroom with a small pile of clothes in his arms. He placed them in your lap, and when his hand raised to meet your hair, you couldn’t help but flinch away from his touch.

“Shh, shh.” He tucked your semi-wet hair behind your ear once again. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.” The moment the door was closed, you felt the tears finally starting to pour again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The outfit Hongjoong had picked out for you was one with better quality fabrics than you had ever worn before. You looked at yourself in the bedroom’s mirror, adorned with a gold frame. Your new clothes hid your scars so well. There was no longer any visible evidence of what Hongjoong had put you through, well, except for the bandage wrapped around your throat.

The tears were streaming non-stop from your eyes, but you weren’t sniffling. You weren’t sobbing, like before. You just let them fall, and occasionally wiped your tired eyes.

A silent knock was heard, and you padded over to the door with silent steps. Opening the door hesitantly, you were met with Seonghwa’s outstretched hand. You grabbed his hand hesitantly, and you felt how cold you were compared to him. You didn’t miss the way his slender fingers caressed your hand slightly when leading you down the stairs.

Your breathing picked up slightly at the familiar scenery of the living room. You didn’t want to remember what happened the last time you were here.

Seonghwa continued leading you to the kitchen, and when you entered your gaze immediately found the floor.

Yunho.

His gaze searched yours desperately, and his eyes were wider than you had ever seen them before. Seonghwa pulled out a chair beside where Yunho sat, and gestured for you to sit down.

You hesitantly sat down, but kept your gaze low, still avoiding Yunho, whose eyes were still plastered on you. He was so obviously searching for you. He wanted some sign from you, any sort of communication, but you had to refuse it.

You tried to focus on the music in the background. It was such a peaceful tune, and you so desperately wanted to only hear that tune at this moment, not the tone of Hongjoong’s voice.

“Y/n, this is your first dinner in the dining room,” he stated. You kept looking at the wooden table, and nodded. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he said, voice still calm, but you knew this was a warning.

You lifted your head and looked at Hongjoong’s smiling face. “There you go.” You felt sick at the praise.

“Let’s eat then!” Seonghwa said, clapping his hands together in excitement. You watched as everyone started plating up food, and just as you were about to pick up your own plate, Seonghwa reached over and took it in his own hand. You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t spare you a glance, loading up a fair amount of food on your plate.

You looked down at your full plate and heard the sound of utensils scratching against plates. You could still feel Yunho’s eyes on you, his head perched to the side to watch every thing you did. It didn’t help with the lingering discomfort coursing through your veins.

“Go on, eat,” Hongjoong instructed. You swallowed, picking up your fork to take your first bite. After not eating for so long, it almost felt sickening to eat again. The hunger was gnawing at your stomach, but you felt equally sick.

Hesitantly, you put the food in your mouth, but refused to make a face, even though you felt like crying. You had to admit that Seonghwa’s food was immaculate, but you couldn’t give any of them that pleasure. You knew this was what they wanted, for you to give in. For you to feel thankful for the bare minimum, until you can’t live without them. Having studied psychology and communication, this was right up your alley.

You didn’t register when you kept eating, your pace quickening for every second that passed. You were so hungry, and only now that you had started eating had you fully realized it.

The satisfied feeling of a full stomach was one you had missed, but the wonderful feeling was soon replaced by one of dread when Hongjoong walked up to you, his signature grin on his face.

“I’ll take our little Y/n up to her room for tonight,” he said, looping his arm through yours. You exhaled shakily in fear at the statement. He exited the room to walk you upstairs. “Oh don’t worry, your punishment is done, remember?” he cooed, as if he could read your thoughts.

“Where will I be sleeping tonight?” you asked. He hummed. “I’ll let you sleep in Yunho’s room. How’s that?” he suggested. You swallowed.

Although you should’ve probably jumped in joy at the idea, you didn’t know what to feel. When he stopped your escape attempt, was it just to earn ‘good boy’ points from Hongjoong? Was he genuinely worried about your safety, or did he just not trust you to make it out alive?

Hongjoong led you into the room where you had slept after the night in the living room. It was cozily lit, and you felt like you could jump in bed straight away, but of course, that wasn’t an option.

“He’ll join you later.” Hongjoong started preparing the bed for the two of you. You watched him closely as he added another blanket for you to use. “You’ll have to share a bed with him, but well, I guess that won’t be a problem!” he laughed. You felt sick.

“But no funny business, okay? I know he’s interested in you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m in charge of that.”

You questioned the statement in your mind, and before you could think it through, decided to speak.

“In charge of what?”

Hongjoong paused his movements. You wanted to look away when he slowly turned to face you, but forced yourself to hold your head high.

“You don’t speak to me with that tone, understand?” he said. His eyes held that exact expression they had held before he punished you. “You know exactly what I mean.”

You wanted to be strong. You wanted to defy him, stay strong for yourself, but you couldn’t bear it anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

Your own tone shocked you. You sounded so… weak. So full of genuine regret and emotion. You sounded like a wounded animal, scared to get killed by a hunter.

When Hongjoong didn’t answer, and only stepped closer to you with slow steps, you braced yourself for an attack. If not physically, then verbally, but nothing came.

Instead, his arms wrapped around your form. His hands met your head, stroking it. “Good girl. Just as I taught you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

When Yunho arrived in his room, you were fast asleep on his bed. You looked so small, tucked in by the blankets, hugging a pillow tightly. He felt like crying when seeing you.

He closed the door and silently laid down next to you under the covers, and when he saw the bruises covering your arms, now revealed by your nightgown, he let out a quiet sob. His hands found your face, cupping it, and wiping the seemingly fresh tears away from your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. He couldn’t hold back his sounds at this point, even when he tried to muffle them with his pillow. Caught up in the moment, he failed to notice you waking up from your slumber, until your hand met his shoulder.

His head snapped up in shock, and his face contorted further when he saw your tired eyes meeting his. Finally, you looked at him. When seeing the look in his eyes, you knew that the reason he stopped you wasn’t one of ill intent. He really was trying to save you.

“Y/n I’m—“

“No, please don’t say you’re sorry,” you stopped him, and before he could continue, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you. He held you carefully, and cried into your shoulder.

“He’s the monster,” you whispered. “Not you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“I knew it was a test,” Yunho whispered. It had gotten late, but neither of you cared. You still held each other, your bodies pressed against each other in a matter that you would otherwise find inappropriate. It sure was intimate, but you needed this contact right now.

“I knew it was, because—“ Yunho took a deep breath. “Because they did the same thing to me.” You nodded.

“They’re giving you a chance to make it up to them. It’s like another test. They’ll see if you’ve improved.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the scent of Yunho’s hair. “That’s just sick.”

“Wh- when they did the test…” you started, contemplating your question. “Was that when Hongjoong…”

“No. That’s not when he stabbed me.”

You exhaled. Not in relief, because there were no situations where stabbing Yunho was justified.

“I tried to escape after the test, which resulted in him stabbing me. I made them believe I would never try to escape by not falling for their trap. Hongjoong’s still not over it of course, but I’ve done everything in my power to earn his forgiveness.”

The two of you spent a moment of silence together, and just when you thought Yunho had fallen asleep, he untangled his arms from you. He still kept you close.

His eyes met yours, and you could still see the water pooling in his. Even in this moment, he was so beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” he said. You blinked at the sudden question, and even though you would in any other situation found the question shocking, you knew what you wanted. What you needed.

“Yes.”

Yunho looked at you for another second before slowly leaning in. He gave you time to back away if you weren’t sure, but when his lips finally met yours, you didn’t feel an ounce of regret. You both knew this was a kiss of pure intimacy; that of being in this horrifying situation together, and only having each other.

What made the kiss so much more special were the unspoken feelings you knew Yunho held for you, and the ones you hadn’t yet realized you held for him.

When your lips disconnected, he wrapped his large arms around you again, and soon, the two of you drifted off together, unaware of the conversation Hongjoong was having on the phone downstairs.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“What do you mean someone’s onto us!? I thought you made that impossible!” Hongjoong whisper-yelled into the phone, aware of the two of you sleeping upstairs.

Seonghwa sat next to him on the couch, his hands rubbing soothing circles on Hongjoong’s back.

“Okay, do what it takes to get them off our tracks. I don’t care who you have to kill, or what I have to pay. Make sure to get it done,” Hongjoong sighed into the phone.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened at his lover’s last words into the phone.

“Yeah, sure. Come over to my place tomorrow night, we’ll discuss it.”

Hongjoong ended the call and dramatically sat back in the couch. “This guy…”

“What’s going on honey?” Seonghwa asked. “Looks like some people are onto Choi and Lee, despite them making it seemingly impossible to track them. We’ve got a smartass on our tails.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong sighed in unison. “Looks like we’ll have to prepare for some guests for tomorrow.”

my masterlist

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! I really don’t know if I should keep writing on this series… I’m starting to doubt if it’s even that good… I would love it for you guys to tell me what you think! Are you invested in this series? Or should I put my focus on something else?? Please tell meeee❤️

[tryingtofindava]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: soz it takes awhile to get to the point mb.

It started off with you chatting with Clever Bot, innocent enough. You’d ask it random questions, it would ask you random questions. That went on for a few weeks.

Until the questions started getting more personal.

Asking you how your friends party was, or if you were okay after nicking your finger with the knife while chopping strawberries.

The bot even started calling you by your name, which you definitely hadn’t told it...

But in return it told you it’s name!!

He was called BEN.

That’s when you stopped using the site all together, not wanting to put up with the total bullshit this bot was putting you through.

Until the site started randomly popping up while you were using your devices, his messages it was sending you getting more condescending.

That’s the night he finally showed his face to you.

You were sitting on your apartments couch, watching some shit horror movie. When the screen started to get all glitchy.

That’s when the hand popped out.

ANYWAYS!!

Now you have this random dude in your apartment, and he’s messing around with everything he can get his hands on.

Saying shit like-

“It’s cool being in your room and not just seeing it through your laptop.”

Creepy… he’s very creepy.

Even though he doesn’t mean to be (most of the time…)

Oh well.

He lives with you now.

Well, he likes to think he does, it’s not exactly official.

He just eats your food, sleeps on your couch, plays your video games.

And you being… oddly chill about the whole thing? Icing on the cake.

About 2 months with him crashing at your place, he starts to open up a bit more.

And trust me, he’s an open book.

But the whole drowning thing?

That’s a touchy topic. But he (eventually) opened up about the whole thing.

NOW FINALLY TO THE DATING HEADCANONS.

He’s very flirty.

But his way of flirting is literally so cheesy.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” (He does that anyways)

“Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

Reallllll smooth, dude…

He flirts with you so much, that when he was genuinely taking interest and hinting at him liking you as more than friends?

that was difficult.

He dug himself his own grave. (again.)

It all clicked for you one day when you (finally) started noticing the signs that, hey… he didn’t mean that as a joke.

Now it was either you, or the beachy haired goblin that had to make the first REAL MOVE.

So, you finally grew a pair of balls and asked him out.

(He said yeah obviously.)

THE FIRST DATE WAS LITERALLY SO CUTE I’M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH.

like, I want to have a fucking Stardew Valley date. (srsly someone take me on a stardew valley date.)

Matching spider-man and hello kitty pyjama bottoms🔛🔝

Without a doubt he’s a stoner, so you guys get high and talk about the Five Nights at Freddy’s timeline & lore.

He’s obsessed w you.

You two making like rlly bad jokes and full on laughing, no not even laughing, snorting AND cackling w/ each other. (he laughs like Arthur from Arthur’s Christmas😭)

I am 100% convinced he’s named a wolf on Minecraft after you.

Speaking of Minecraft…

He’s a slut for putting your Minecraft beds together. He fr acts like you two don’t share a bed already.

You have to deadass bully him to take a shower. (bcs his just putting on the strongest men’s deodorant doesn’t work)

THIS IS SO RANDOM BUT HE’S LITERALLY OBSESSED W THE HUNGER GAMES.

Like, you two be binge watching that every 2 months.

He teases the shit outta you btw.

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU GET CLINGY.

“God, you remind me of Moon Children.” Then he casually leaves the room, leaving you to wonder what tf Moon Children are.

His sleeping schedule is so fucked, that he goes to sleep at like 5AM and wakes up at 3PM. And he gets up from bed a lot during the night to randomly do something.

When he’s sick his voice is glitchy. (AND SOUNDS LIKE BABY JUSTIN BIEBER) What a combo.

He’s one touchy mf.

His hands ALWAYS have to be on you, around your shoulder, on your thigh, anywhere you’re comfortable with. (but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t push his limits.)

He spams you all day long, sending you out dated memes, or just sending videos of cats.

Since I’m running out of ideas I’d say the relationship is a solid 8/10. (abducting two points bcs he pulls the stupidest ‘pranks’)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[astrophileous]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need anything fluffy (and I mean the most stomach churning, toe curling, quiet screaming fluff please 🥴🩷) for professor!spencer because I am actually frothing at the mouth DO YOU FEEL ME🗣️‼️ (mwah ily kith kith)

I might have written two blurbs for this request and I might have driven myself crazy trying to determine which one I should post so here's to wishing I didn't make the wrong choice 🤞 this one is special for you avis I hope you enjoy it MWAH 💖

Warning(s): gn!reader, I imagine reader being in grad school but you can imagine reader in college as well--that just means there's gonna be an age gap in there, if professor-student romantic dynamics isn't your thing you shouldn't be reading this, profanities(?), established relationship

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Have a good day, my love.

You grinned giddily at the text message popping up on the screen of your phone. Without wasting another second, your thumbs moved swiftly over the keypad as you typed in a response.

You too, honey. See you tonight at dinner <3

"What are you so smiley about?"

You quickly shoved your phone into the pocket of your pants before looking up towards the owner of the voice. Gladys stood to your left with a quizzical tilt to her eyebrows. Her eyes assessed you from head to toe before they landed back on your face.

"I'm not smiley. Who's smiley?"

"You are." Her eyes squinted. "Something smells fishy."

"You should check your bag. Maybe you accidentally threw your cat's wet food in there again."

"That was one time!"

Gladys scampered after you as you made your way into the lecture hall. Akbar was sitting on the third row when you walked in, immediately scooting over to make room for both Gladys and you to slip into your respective seats.

"Hey, did you guys hear?" Akbar asked as soon as you and Gladys plopped down next to him.

"Hear what?" Gladys asked.

"Apparently, some people are saying that Professor Chuckie is hitched."

Gladys' eyes grew comically wide. "He's what?"

Your brain was working in overdrive, trying to decipher whom exactly Akbar had meant by Professor Chuckie. Between him and Gladys, the two of them had a tendency of coming up with dozens of ridiculous code names for every single person they ever encountered in life, to the point where you were constantly struggling to keep up with them all.

"Who's Professor Chuckie again?" you eventually asked.

"Chuckie? From Rugrats?" Gladys hinted.

Your frown deepened. "Who?"

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Akbar sighed. "You know the man. Fluffy curly hair like Chuckie from Rugrats."

After swimming in a pool of confusion for the next few minutes, Gladys eventually took pity on you and blurted out, "It's Professor Reid, (Y/N). Professor Spencer Reid from Criminology department?"

Your stomach dropped to the floor.

How did they—

"A buddy of mine was at the criminology lab today and told me that everyone was talking about it," Akbar explained. "The Spencer Reid is married. It's a huge news."

"Damn right, it is." Gladys scoffed. "Why are all the fine men in my life already taken? I hate it here."

Akbar rolled his eyes. "Right. As if you ever had a chance with him anyway."

As your two friends proceeded to bicker with one another, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a temporal abyss as your brain tried to process what Akbar had just said.

Spencer Reid is married.

Everyone was talking about it.

A lump formed at the base of your throat as you faced Akbar again, "Hey, how did they—how did your friend find out that Professor Reid was married?"

"He showed up to work with a ring this morning."

Your heart was racing inside your chest. "That's it? Not a very conclusive evidence, isn't it? Maybe the man just likes his jewelry."

"Nah, I'd bet my money that he's hitched," Akbar said. "My buddy told me one of the students tried to ask him about it and he just kinda smiled and nodded. Never really answered the question, though."

"That does sound kinda sus," Gladys opined. "Makes me wonder what kind of person managed to bag a specimen like that."

You hummed distractedly in reply, too busy mulling over everything to actively participate in the conversation your friends were having. Your professor strode into the hall barely five minutes later, and before long, the class officially began, forcing you to shake off any irrelevant thoughts about Professor Chuckie and his ring from the deepest corners of your mind.

Today was the day every group in class had to present their last progress report before finals rolled around. As soon as the fifth group finished their presentation, you walked to the front of the class with Akbar and Gladys following closely behind.

Akbar stepped towards the desk, trying to connect his PC with the class projector. He fumbled with the cable for a few minutes before he sheepishly glanced at you and Gladys. "I don't think it's gonna work. Either of you brought a laptop today?"

"I brought mine," you announced. "Wait here."

You ran back towards your table to grab your laptop before connecting the device to the projector. As soon as the desktop of your laptop appeared on the big screen, the entire lecture hall suddenly erupted in a round of synchronized gasps.

Gladys was staring at you, a clear sign of shock on her countenance. "(Y/N)?"

"Dude," Akbar muttered breathlessly. "What the hell?"

You swept your gaze repeatedly between the two of them and the rest of the class, confusion dawning inch by inch with every second that ticked by. "What? What's going on?"

Akbar nudged your shoulder, gesturing you to look behind towards where the projected screen of your laptop was being shown to everyone in the room. Your mouth instantly ran dry when you realized what had the whole lecture hall so stunned for the past few minutes.

It was a picture—the one you had set up last week as the wallpaper of your PC desktop but somehow had managed to completely forget about—of you and Spencer lounging on the living room couch of your shared apartment, holding up your hands to show off the identical bands encircling your ring fingers. Spencer was smiling big towards the camera with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders while you peeked behind his neck with a portion of your face concealed behind his untamed curls.

It was a sweet photo to commemorate the most important day of both of your lives, taken merely hours after you exchanged vows at the city hall and entrusted each of your own hearts towards the other person to keep, nurture, and love.

And now, that same photo was up on the wall of Room 2404 as an impromptu spectacle for your entire Data Analytics class to see.

From behind the desk, Professor Clegg cleared his throat. "So, (Y/N). You and Dr. Reid, huh?" He peered at you from behind his glasses, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, but a brightly twinkling mirth in his eyes. "I guess congratulations are in order."

You exhaled a tired breath and replied, "Thank you, Professor."

Once your presentation was over, you retired back to your seat and discreetly typed in a message as another group came forward to present their work. You threw your phone into your bag after hitting send, trying to ignore the whispered demands of your two friends as they badgered you for answers.

Across the campus, Spencer's phone dinged with an incoming text.

He pulled out the device promptly, failing to contain his smile as he read the message you had just delivered to him.

Thanks a lot for the heads up 👎 Looks like there's no need for me to keep my own ring hidden in the wallet anymore >:(

[hitomisuzuya]

HIII SUZUUU first time requesting kind nervous lol. For once finally ur requests are open when I'm up 😭 I've been thinking abt scummy scara way too much lately like literally basically imagine just going on a cute date with him only for him to fuck you dumb the second u guys arent in public 🤭🤭🤭

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Scummy Scaramouche. Smut. Edging. Teasing. Degradation. Some date fluff. Reader is hinted in having a metal allergy cause I am allergic to gold jewelry.

Have I said how much I love when requests are worded like this 😳😌 No one should feel nervous requesting from me. 🥺

It was no secret that Scaramouche was a trust fund baby. And the one thing he liked to do with that money is spend it on you. He has to spoil his precious girl, after all.

If there was a cute stuffed animal you looked at for even a second in passing, it was yours. You wanted a book, he bought the whole series for you. You commented on how pretty a piece of expensive jewelry was, he bought it without hesitation. Especially if it was silver. Your skin was finicky about certain metals.

Scaramouche thought silver was prettier, anyways. Not prettier than you. How dare a metal even consider coming close to you.

He always touching you in some way as you walked. An arm around your waist, holding your hand, even sitting down somewhere he had his hand on your thigh. You were taken, damn it, and he needed to make the perfectly clear to anyone who looked.

"Scara, you've spent enough money on me already," You fretted, making him chuckle as he stopped in front of a lingerie boutique in town.

"Nonsense, I insist," Scaramouche replied. Oh yeah, he always insisted. Especially if it meant picking out lingerie for him to rip off later.

God, just picturing how you would look in the lacy black, blue, and purple lingerie to picked out for you was starting to make his cock twitch. "If you need any help, I can come in with you," He said, wishing the changing room door had some kind of keyhole.

"No, Scara, it's okay. I can manage," You said, blushing from how enthusiastic he sounded about helping you put everything on.

That wasn't the point. He needed to see how you looked in them. His imagination was starting to drive him a little crazy. His fingers were shaking with need, and the anticipation of getting his hands on you.

Even the lady behind the counter was starting to give him a stern look. He probably looked something like a dog frothing at the mouth.

With many bags in hand, back you headed with Scaramouche to his dorm. No sooner were you a few steps from it, he was making you drop bags right in the hallway, pushing you against the wall. His hands roamed greedily over your body, biting at your lips as he kissed you.

"Mmmm~," He purred, hooking his fingers through your panties, "you wore the one I hoped you would out of the store." He could hardly wait when you had given him only a price tag to take up to the counter with everything else.

Throwing open his dorm room door, Scaramouche stumbled inside with you, his lips never leaving yours. His hands pawed at your clothes, standing behind you in front of his mirror so he could watch himself remove the lacy purple lingerie. "Purple always looks so pretty on your skin," He kissed and bit at your shoulder as he unhooked your bra, groping your breasts before tugging it off.

Guiding you over to his bed, he pushed you down on it, spreading your legs as he licked a long the inside of your thighs. You squirmed, his spit rolling down the inside of your thighs to soak against the fabric.

"Ha, getting wound already. What a needy slut you are," He purred excitedly, hastily tugging your panties off. His eyes drank in your form spread out before him, just as hastily taking off his clothes. "Can't wait for me to fuck you dumb on my cock, hm?"

You whimpered, grinding needily against him as he pressed the tip of his aching cock on your clit. It sounded so fucking sweet to him that he had to hear it over and over again.

Scaramouche groaned every time he heard you whimper, relentlessly teasing the tip of his cock against your entrance. The way you squirmed on desperation, your walls fluttering and clenching around it was a drool worthy sight to him. His mouth said as much, drool dripping down onto your chest.

"Scara, please, put your cock all the way in me. I can't take much more," You pleaded, reaching down to grasp his cock to try and urge it inside of you. "Cum inside of me."

That sent him feral. Folding your body, and throwing your legs over his shoulder, his slid his cock slowly inside of you. Groaning, he cursed when his cock rested against your sweet spot. Pulling out to the tip, he slowly pushed himself back inside so he could feel your walls clench tight around his cock as he bottomed out again.

Every thrust made you see stars, your eyes rolling closed. Wrapping your arms around him, you clung to him. Scaramouche was determined for the entire campus to hear how good he was fucking you.

"Fuck, look at me when you cum, slut," Scaramouche hissed, pounding himself inside of you, his entire body quivering, his cock throbbing with his approaching orgasm.

Your eyes snapped open, tears welling in them as his lips captured yours to swallow your moans. He bit at your lips, pulling away when your legs started to tremble in pleasure.

"Scream it, whore. Who's fucking you this good, hm?" Scaramouche pushed your legs farther up towards your head, his husky moans only rose in octave as he drove he cock deeper inside of you.

"Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Scaramouche!" The way you chanted his name like mantra, your release flooding around his cock made him cum suddenly inside of you. He left his cock resting deep into your sweet spot, his warm cum ribboning inside of you. You felt every throb of his cock.

Panting, Scaramouche pulled out of you after a few long minutes of feverishly fucking his cum back inside of you. Rolling off of you, he latched one of his lips around your nipple, sucking on it as he scooped some of his cum onto his fingers.

Your back arched off the bed, gasping when he rubbed and hooked his fingers over your sweet spot. You still hadn't entirely come down from your orgasm.

Scaramouche only wanted to continue to make his precious girl feel as good you made him feel. By cumming again all over his fingers.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 10

Kinktober Masterlist gutta cavat lapidem - "dripping water hollows a stone" Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader Kinks > anal everything, coercion, come play Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

You are afraid of everything anal, but Johnny pins you down one day so he can eat your ass. He sure is convincing!

Warning: Johnny is really into butt stuff!

It all started when you wore that new pair of jeans. They fit like a dream, and they emphasized every single curve of your plump butt. Your boyfriend, Johnny, actually wolf-whistled at you when you came out of your room wearing them one day. He was on you like glue, his hands rubbing over the tight denim, stuffing his fingers into your back pockets down to the knuckle, rubbing firmly along the seam that went through your crack. His mouth was on your neck, smelling your perfume, the scent he’d bought you for Christmas last year, grinding his crotch into your belly like a horny dog, sighing,

“Goddamn, bonnie. You dinnae ken what tha’ fuckin’ arse does to your man. Turn around. Lemme see it.”

He fell to his knees right there in the den, grabbing your hips and turning you so that he was face to face with your wide rump, and before you could even protest, he had his nose and mouth buried in the middle, pretending that he was eating you from behind, working himself into a froth. 

“Johnny! Quit that. We’ve got to go to the shops. It’s already half five. They’ll close soon, and we don’t even have milk.”

He sighed again, shaking his head,

“Alright, bonnie. But, this isn’t over.”

And it certainly wasn’t. 

Every time you wore something that accentuated your ample blessings, he turned into a crazed lunatic. He’d taken to groping you in public, especially on the train, making you sit in his lap even if the car was totally abandoned. While you walked down the street or through the store, he always had a firm grip on your hip or your flank, and when he knew no one was looking, he’d fully fondle your ass cheeks no matter where you were. 

You didn’t mind the public affection so much. It was mostly harmless, but his fixation on your ass was starting to make you worried. You’d never done anything back there before, and it seemed to be the only thing he could think about. 

One night, while you were sucking him off, struggling to take his curved cock down your throat, he begged you to touch him there. You pulled him out of your mouth, asking,

“What did you say?”

He furrowed his brow, grabbing your head and feeding himself back into your mouth, whispering again in a low, dark tone,

“Put your wee finger in my hole, lass. C’mon, baby. Finger me while you swallow me like that. Mm, fuck… it’d feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Mmfgh… Johnny! No, that’s dirty. I can’t–”

His cock silenced you again, and he shook his head,

“Clean enough. Just showered. C’mon, baby. Like this, see?”

You looked between his legs as he fucked your mouth, watching as his finger disappeared into his furry hole, dipping in and out, making him moan like he was dying. It wasn’t long until you were choking on his base, your nose buried in his curls, your belly warm with his come. 

But, after that moment, he dropped it, and he didn’t press the issue. You knew that it wasn’t the last time he was going to beg to do some sort of ass play. And you only had to wait a few days for him to try a new angle. 

You were laying in bed, reading on your Kindle while you were wearing a small bullet vibe he’d bought for you, getting off on your smut and absent-mindedly humping into the mattress when you needed the stimulation.

He’d been working in his office, and when he saw what you were doing, he made a bee-line for the bed, kneeling behind you, trapping your legs between his knees. His hands went right to your ass, covered only by a plain, silk pair of panties. 

“Mmm, fuck. You readin’ your dirty books again, lass?”

You nodded, smiling at him over your shoulder. He smiled back, and he pulled his soft cock from his gym shorts and started to massage his length, making himself hard,

“Dinnae mind me, bonnie. Keep readin’. Eyes front, naughty girl.”

You giggled at his dirty pet name for you and went back to your book, your pussy throbbing and growing excited by his eagerness to touch himself. Then, he began to peel your panties down, dragging the elastic over your cheeks to expose your ass to the chilly air of the bedroom. 

“Johnny…” you warned.

He shushed you,

“Shh, bonnie. M’not gonnae touch you. I just wanna look at her. So pretty and tight…”

You could feel him use his strong hands to pry your cheeks apart, revealing your hole to him. When he saw it, he let out a rugged sigh. You could feel his fist pounding away at his cock, his repetitive motion shaking the bed. Between your filthy book and the fact that your man was jerking off to your body, you were turned on beyond belief. 

You only made it a few more pages before you heard him grunting for his release, and before you could roll away or reach for a tissue, he pointed his cockhead at your asshole and shot out his entire load onto your puckered rim.

The tip of his prick never touched you, but the warm, slick seed of his orgasm dripped down your asshole, across the fleshy little bridge, and into the buzzing divot of your cunt, mixing with your wetness and making a huge mess. 

Then, with a few more animalistic pumps, Johnny finished himself on you and replaced your panties, making sure the elastic band was right back where you had it. He climbed off of you and went back into the kitchen, leaving you to soak in his hot come. 

You should have gotten up to clean off his mess, but you didn’t. Your mind was swimming with need, and you reached a hand down to touch yourself, rubbing your clit in little circles, giving yourself just enough stimulation to send yourself into a leg-shaking orgasm. Every time you clenched your muscles, you could feel his spend, wet and gooey between your asshole and your pussy, marking you like a brand. 

Finally, you rolled off the bed and stepped into the bathroom to wipe yourself off. The first swipe of the toilet paper didn’t really catch it all. He had come so much on you. But, the second swiped it away, and the smooth, creamy sensation of his slick licking across your ass made you shiver. 

Perhaps you could let him lick you there after all. He was incredibly talented with his tongue. You tried to move past all of the times you’d been told it was too dirty or that it wasn’t proper. If Johnny really wanted to please you there, maybe you could just give it a try?

Johnny didn’t let up, either. He would send you links to porn videos of actors of all genders licking and sucking on their partners’ assholes. He’d always beg you to send him pictures of you bent over, presenting to him on all fours, spreading your cheeks for him. When you finally sent one, he’d sent back a video of him jerking off again, moaning loudly into the mic, coming hard in his palm, making promises to you in a dark, dirty voice,

“Gonnae make that fine arse mine one day, bonnie. I’m so ready for it, baby. Bet she tastes so fuckin’ good.” 

You’d gotten brave in the shower that same night, thinking about Johnny’s hunger for you and your untouched hole. You played with your pussy for a bit, trying to work up the nerve, and then… you pushed the tip of your finger just inside the rim, pulsing just the tip of it over and over, pretending like you were being fucked, humping your hips in time with your tiny thrusts. 

It surprised you. You didn’t come, but it felt really good. For once, it wasn’t grossing you out, and the memory of Johnny’s hot come pooling in the tight hole of it was driving you wild. 

So, you got online and did too much research. The incognito tabs stacked up on each other as you asked a million questions. Finally, you made a purchase. You bought a small plug, about as thick as your finger, with a t-shaped base. 

When it came in, Johnny was still at work, so you cleaned it and studied it like a scientist, examining the curves, the girth, the length. Then, you heard the front door click open so you shoved it under your socks in the drawer, hiding it from him for reasons you couldn’t really explain. 

While he was gone at work or on errands, you took to wearing the little plug around the house, enjoying the way the weight felt inside of you while you were doing chores or when you were sitting on the couch watching television. You played with it inside of you, tugging on the base, spinning it in circles, turning yourself on enough that you eventually had to rub your wet pussy just to give yourself some relief. 

Tonight, you had gone out to the bar with Johnny’s mates from work, and you had watched him get a little too tipsy. He started groping your ass as you sat next to him in the booth, making you sit on his lap and squeezing your flesh through your thin, white romper. You never wore panties with this outfit because they would show through, but you did wear your plug. 

But, Johnny still hadn’t noticed it. He was too far gone. At one point, he thought he was whispering in your ear, but he was speaking at full volume, and his friends all heard what he was saying to you, cheeky smiles spread across their faces. 

“When are you gonnae give me that juicy arse, baby? Promise I’ll be gentle as a lamb…”

“Johnny! They can hear you,” you pressed a finger to his lips and he looked up at you, begging for mercy.

“I dinnae care, lass. I just wanna taste you. Jus’ one lick, baby girl. Let me have you.”

You smiled down at him and apologized to the others. You said your goodbyes and got him back to the train station. Every car was dead and empty, and you sat together in the back. Even though all the seats were vacant, he still made you sit on his lap, and you could feel his erection prodding you through his jeans. 

“You wore this on fuckin’ purpose,” he pouted, pulling the top of your romper open to peek at your nipples. 

You slapped your hand to your chest to hold the garment in place, chastising him,

“Johnny, we’re on the train. Someone could come on and see us.”

“Yeah?” He rubbed his hand up your thigh, pushing up the shorts to feel even more of your skin until he let his fingers brush the fuzzy lips of your pussy.  

“... Johnny,” you gasped, but you didn’t slap his hand away this time.    

He felt encouraged by your submission, and so he dipped his fingers in deeper, touching your wet pussy and rubbing your clit in loving little circles. Then, he got brave and started to touch you even lower, his fingertip resting on the edge of your perineum, threatening to push it over the ledge and into the forbidden zone.  

“Shh, shh,” he hushed you before you could protest, “It’s just this wee part right here, baby. I just wanna touch you right here. Tha’s alright, innit? Yeah… you like it?”

Eventually, just as you were getting closer and closer to an orgasm, his finger slipped over, and he discovered your secret. His eyes went wide when he felt the plug’s base, not understanding what he was experiencing. Johnny’s eyes stared deeply into yours as his fingers explored your ass, touching the toy and the stretched rim that was holding onto it, breathing heavy and ragged like it was pleasuring him instead of you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he sighed darkly, “Are you wearin’ a wee plug, baby?” 

You nodded, suddenly shy now that your hidden toy had been discovered. He used two fingers to tug on the base, pulling it halfway out of you before sticking it back inside. When he heard you whimper from the stimulation, his brow furrowed, and he repeated the movement, fucking you with the plug over and over, letting it slide in and out of your tight hole. 

“Jonny, this is our stop,” you whispered, trembling as you leaned against his chest. 

“C’mon. Hurry up, bonnie.”

He slid the plug back inside you, giving it an extra little shove before he pulled his hand out of your romper. 

He practically dragged you back to your flat, rushing you up the stairs and bullying you into the foyer, slamming the door behind him and dropping his keys to the floor with a clattering slam. You stumbled backwards, pushed and shoved by his immense body, and he pulled your romper off of your body, not bothering to take off your wedges. Then, your legs hit the edge of the kitchen table and he turned you around, laying you on your belly, bending you over. 

“Spread your legs,” he barked, “Wider. Like that. Stay like that.”

You watched him kneel behind you, his eyes level with your gleaming plug, and you heard the whirr of his zipper. The familiar sound of his palm slicking across his cock lulled you into a deeply lustful state, and you waited to see what he wanted to do to you. 

First, the tip of his tongue traced the outline of your asshole, fighting to squirm below the base of the plug. Then, he started to fuck you with it again as he licked you, pulling it all the way out before pushing it all the way back in. Over and over, he couldn’t get enough of your high-pitched mewling sounds as you let him fuck your ass with your toy. 

“So perfect. Goddamn you are so bloody tight, baby. Lemme taste you,” he growled out his words through clenched teeth, steadily jerking his cock hard, rolling the foreskin over his fat head. 

He pulled the plug all the way out of you and, as you watched him over your shoulder, you saw him stick it in his mouth like a lollipop, sucking it like a sugary treat before tossing it over his shoulder and diving, nose-first into your butt. 

Johnny began to lick his way into your hole, keeping you spread with his thumb, making your hole stretch and gape to allow his pink muscle to writhe its way inside. 

“Mmngh! Johnny, please…” It was too much. Wearing your toy had made you sensitive, and feeling your man’s strong tongue fucking you in earnest had sent shivers down your whole body. 

Two thick fingers slid into your pussy, shoving themselves deep inside of you and gathering up your creamy slick. He painted your asshole with it as he ate, like icing on cake, groaning and fisting his prick between spreading you all over yourself, squeezing the life out of his ruddy head to keep himself from coming too soon. 

Then, he put one of his wet fingers into your asshole, covered in your pussy juice, slipping just inside your clenched rim.

“Breathe, baby, breathe for me. Lemme open her up. Just a wee bit more. There she is… there. Does that feel good, bonnie girl?”

“Yes, Johnny! It feels so good.”

He played just inside the rim, not unlike the way you had done in the shower, but he seemed to know instinctively how to take things to the next level. He pulled at the edge of your muscles, stretching them just a bit, not enough to hurt but just enough to fit his finger in a little deeper. Then, he pushed forward, past the first knuckle, and you hissed in a breath. 

“So tight…” Johnny murmured, tonguing around the edge of your stretched hole. 

Eventually, his patience defeated your body’s resistance, and he fit his entire finger inside of your asshole. He played inside for a while, rubbing your walls and listening to the sounds you were making for him. Then, he pulled all the way out and pushed all the way back inside, fucking you as if he was using his cock. 

Then, he brought a second finger next to his first and started the process over again. Stretching, pushing, prying, pulling… your mind was blank. It was too full of new sensations and pleasures. Nothing hurt, nothing ached, and nothing felt wrong or gross. Johnny made you feel safe and loved and cared for, and so you let him take things way too far. 

Finally, when he was satisfied with your softness, he used his thumbs to open you up wide, stretching the rim until he could spit into your hole, using it as lube to prepare you for his girthy cock.

You felt the fleshy head kiss your skin, and then, he fed himself inside of you, fucking you in a place where no one had ever touched you before, stretching you out so that you were a perfect mold for him and only him. 

“Baby… baby, it’s too tight. I’m gonna fuckin’ come. You’re gonna make me come. Oh, fuck!”

He pumped himself inside of you, shallow and quick, not wanting to force himself too deep on your first try. But, you whined, rolling your hips for him, encouraging him to push inside, to drive himself like an obedient mule, to make you cede to his will. 

That was all the convincing he needed, and he jammed his curved shaft against your walls, dragging his head further and further into your asshole. It was so deep that it made you cry out to him, half in surprise and half in a delicious sort of agony.

He stopped, not retreating, settling himself far within you, 

“You alright, hen? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head, “It’s good, Johnny. So good.”

“Such a good girl,” he cooed down at you, grabbing a handful of your fat ass cheek and squeezing it cruelly, “This little hole is perfect for me, baby. Can I fuck you like this? I’ll go nice and slow, bonnie, I promise.”

He didn’t wait for your reply. Johnny pulled his cock all the way out, letting the crown of his head catch on your rim before sliding back in, right down to his base. The way you felt when he was fully sealed inside of you was like nothing you’d ever experienced. He fucked you like that, just as gentle as he swore he would, driving himself in and letting your warm belly cradle his length before retreating and teasing his head with your pulsating hole. 

“Are you gonna come in me, Johnny?” You asked him, your voice barely above a whisper, whiny and needy. 

“Fuckkkkk…” He grunted, picking up his pace, forgetting his vow to be gentle, and then, he slammed himself inside of you, plugging your hole with his dick, dropping his heavy, creamy load into your asshole at the mere suggestion of it. 

He let himself stay inside of you, gasping and moaning with a dark need as he throbbed, every jerk of his shaft sending another scalding rope of come into your belly, filling you up and jerking himself through his orgasm with your tightness.  

Finally, once he stopped pulsing, he began to retreat, slipping out of you and leaving you feeling so empty. You missed him. You wanted him back inside of you, and you curled your body in on itself, humping the table wantonly, too weak to take care of your own desire.  

Suddenly, Johnny was back on his knees, his tongue licking at your open hole, and you squirmed from the sensation, worried that he would taste himself in you.

“Johnny, wait!”

“Hush, bonnie. This arse still needs me, doesnae she? Look,” he put two fingers back inside, pressing them downwards to make your muscles respond to him, “Such a good little hole.”

His tongue delved inside of you, scraping his own come into his mouth, sucking and lapping around his fingers, licking the edge of your perineum. The slurping suckling noises coming from his lips were sending you to another plane of existence, and you thought you’d never felt high except for this very moment. 

“You’re so good to me, baby. I’m gonnae take such good care of her. This hole is gonna be so full all the time. Just wait and see, bonnie. I promise…”

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Super fucking late. I know I said that this was gonna be just them drinking and screwing but it descended into some super emotionally intense shit so please don't read if you're a minor or if you hate that shit

Warning: 18+ This is dark. Some EXTREMELY heavy description of physical abuse towards women, extremely unhealthy reaction of OC in regards to this abuse, Smut, drinking, smoking, swearing

No-one rides a motorbike who doesn't slightly want to die. It's not just the past few years of dealing with the scum scraped fresh off of Cell Block 1's floor that has led Rust to believe that. He doesn't need to see the Iron Crusaders' (and his own) track marks to know that every fucker here has a death wish; it's that low, churning engine rumble that tells him. Excitement often boils down to terror and you can't not care when your Harley's doing 100 down along the coast; a hurricane cooking up in the grey-blue of the Gulf. You'll die just swerving slightly. It's exciting. Rust sees that same excitement, the one of licking syrup off of the jagged edge, in Cassandra's eyes. Hell, it's why she fucks with him, both figuratively and literally. As she taps her fingernails on the sticky bar top, Rust can see that restlessness froth up, in her eyes; the way that they glaze over while she studies him. Cassandra's gonna make him fucking pay for it.

'You owe me, at least, a double,' she says, resting her forearms on the bar as she makes a show of arching her back and rolling the cracks out of her shoulder. Rust looks at her, unimpressed by her languid stretching,

'Those shorts show enough, as it is. Ain't no reason to be doing all that shit.'

'Jealous?'

Rust reaches for the Camels in the inside pocket of his leather jacket,

'Of these motherfuckers? Ain't no-one here that could handle that goddamn attitude. And for the smell outside, ain't no-one here handlin' their liquor, either.'

That earns a huff of a laugh for Cassandra,

'Let the poor bastards have some fun. Most of 'em are probably just trying to take a load off and relax.'

Rust sighs out a flood of grey and eyes her from the side; a cool, appraising look which Cassandra doesn't miss.

'What?' she asks, her head jutting forward slightly and eyes already narrowed, as if already anticipating the bite of his words.

'These are the same men that fuckin' feel you up, back at the club. These beers and shit is just what loosens 'em up.'

'That's just all men,' Cassandra says dryly, not even attempting to muster any indignation at the fact. A girl already resigned to nicotine stained callouses palming her tits and ass. How much do you value your body over rent? Where do you draw the line between the meat that courses with capillaries and nerves and life, and the meat that jiggles when a biker spanks it? Is it worth defining it? Rust knows that, for Cassandra, it sure as hell isn't. Shit, it isn't for either of them, or anyone at that. Sentient meat with electrical impulses tricking us into thinking that it actually matters if we put a gun in our mouth or not, next Tuesday. Rust gives another grainy, derisive scoff,

'Fair enough.'

'Plus, they pay rent. As long as they have the money, they can do whatever they want,' Cassandra shrugs while scraping at some gunk, on the bar, with her thumbnail. Neither of them look at each other.

'I thought we agreed that you weren't gonna bullshit me anymore, Cass.'

'I ain't bullshitting you.'

Rust's gaze moves from the beer taps to an ashtray,

'You goddamn hate it, Cass. I hate it for you.'

'I never said I didn't. But I ain't about to turn down a lap dance cause I've got morals. Shit, Crash, you think I'm that much of a kid?'

Rust can see the way she finishes with a smile and licks the inside of his cheek to prevent his own faint smirk; as if it's some depressingly fucked up inside joke that the two share.

'I am pretty good at pretending that it turns me on, though. Ain't I?' Cassandra says, leaning her side against the bar top with glint in her eye that Rust thinks looks far too much like baiting.

'Keep talkin' like that and you're only gettin' a single.'

'Yeah, that sounds like a fucking admission to me.'

Rust knows why she does this shit; he's seen it enough in the smoky, post-sex haze of their trailer-floor bedroom. Their bodies sticky to the touch, Rust festering in a pit of self-loathing, that he now doesn't even attempt to claw out of, and Cassandra, toeing the line between humour and cruelty, in a desperate attempt to cover up how fucking exposed she is to him. It acts as a way to convince herself that she wouldn't let him hurt her. They both know she's lying. Beneath a nicotine-yellow ceiling and the monotony of the squeaking fan, it's easy to pretend that they are what they present to each other; neither one of them has it in themselves to strip the other bare.

Cassandra is silent for a moment, too long a moment, so Rust bites,

'What?'

'So, I can't call you Ru-'

'No.'

'Not even when we're fucking?'

'Especially not when we're fucking.'

'It ain't like I'm gonna slip up.'

Rust nods to the bartender, uneasy with the raw territory that the conversation is quickly accelerating towards,

'Two fingers of Jameson,' he says, before turning expectantly towards Cassandra.

'A Budweiser and a double of tequila; lime and all that shit.'

The bartender gives Cassandra a slight arch of his brow, clearly unimpressed in having to get out the shot glasses in a place where the liquor bottle usually just stays on the bar top; anyone its owner until they pass out or their wallet runs dry. He acquiesces, though, satiated by having a girl like Cassandra in his bar. Cassandra sees it in his eyes, too: the moment where aggravation turns to lust. She's seen it often, as well as its inversion. The two things men know best, she'd told Rust once, after some fucker bit her shoulder during a lap dance, unable to stop jutting his hard-on into her as he'd called her a 'fucking teasing little bitch', Sex and Rage. So well, they often mix 'em up. Cassandra knows better than anyone else how to tree that line; girls in her line of work usually do. Turn that anger into libido by grinding on them well enough, or try to get hit in a place where you can't see the bruise too much. Don't want the customers to acknowledge that their domination of this body is as fucking pathetic as the last guy who payed to fuck her up. Bruises that belong to different men just don't carry the same degradation. You're a fucking punchbag, nothing worth actually beating into submission. Rust knows that's part of the reason that Cassandra has never bothered to cover up the one's he'd leave after they fucked: someone had finally deemed her worthy to stick around after the time ran up to teach her a lesson.

Rust turns to the bartender, deciding whether, with the coke that he took before chasing after Cassandra still pulsating through his capillaries, he should ignore the slobbering slack-jaw looks he was giving her. He's so goddamn exhausted, after all. Hell, he's already violated more CID regulations than he can count by even starting this shit with her but, then again, he's been in this fucking purgatory of bikers, meth and lukewarm liquor for 3 more years than he should so who's doing semantics?

'That Motel 6 across the lot still runnin',?

The bartender nods,

'As long as there're hookers and junkies on God's green earth.'

Rust lights another cigarette before saying,

'Finish your beer, baby. Then we head.'

The bartender miscalculates, misinterpreting Rust's biker leather as some sort of male cammeradery, and juts forward to ask,

'Hey man, after you're done, you mind tellin' me which room you leave her in?' his hunger glazing his eyes like it would an animal's.

Rust doesn't even have time to break his nose before Cassandra semi-lunges herself across the bar, only restrained by Rust's forearm as he tells her,

'Easy. Easy.'

Time and breath wasted, though, with the way Cassandra writhes against his grip, arm pointing into the bartender's face as she sneers,

'I'd give you two seconds, motherfucker, before your dick gets soft and you start crying to your momma cause it won't go up again, you dumb fucking piece of shit. Ain't even fucking man enough to spot an actual hooker.'

The bartender's face twists, as the insults spew out, and his own vitriol starts to froth up,

'Oh, so you ain't even smart enough to get paid for it? This son of a bitch just fucks you for free, huh? Shi-it, your daddy must've fucked you up bad.'

Rust hauls Cassandra out of the bar, as the pair of them continue to shout whiskey-spit slathered insults at each other, the violence of the curses slithering up from wherever they had hidden it with pills, liquor or sex, for the time being. The moment the bloody meat of catharsis presents itself, they turn into rabid dogs; heat, insect bites and all.

After body slamming the bar door to open it, Rust has to restrain himself from shoving Cassandra off of his chest as she unevenly places her feet on the asphalt, the heel of her cowboy boot twisting and making her stumble to her knees. Rust, still too furious with her goddamn attitude and the bartender's comments, doesn't even turn around as he strides towards the Motel 6,

'Get the fuck up and walk, Cassandra.'

Cassandra pushing herself up, the gravel still embedded in the soft flesh of her palms,

'Oh, so now you're fucking mad at me?!'

'What did I goddamn tell you?'

'To not call you Rust.'

'Shut the fuck up with that, right now.'

'Then, what?'

Rust doesn't look at her. Hell, he even quickens his stride,

'That you're gonna get yourself fuckin' killed with that goddamn mouth. You know the shit an angry man is capable of better than anyone else and you're far too fuckin' smart to be having pissin' contests with a bunch of liquored up assholes.'

It's harsh. Shit, it's a punch to the gut, Rust knows, but he's gotten to the point where he cares about Cassandra way too fucking much to let her be this goddamn stupid when he's around. She knows that, ashamed of her own naivety in thinking that she could ever protect herself from a man who wanted to hurt her. Rust glances at her,

'I get that you're angry, Cass. Don't let it make you a dumbass.'

'Anger is the only goddamn thing that has ever kept me safe. Angry women are the only people who have ever kept me safe.'

Rust clenches his jaw but knows that she's right and finds a lingering sense of relief that she didn't include him, on that list.

Even more so when she has him on his back on their motel room mattress. Rust knows it's goddamn selfish and twisted to be grateful for Cassandra's hard-earned cynicism, won from the sharp edge of male entitlement, but it keeps her fucking safe from him. Ironically, when they fuck is the only time that she doesn't look at him with a tinge of that silent, gnawing desperation. No, not with the way that she's moving on top of him, now; tits pushed up in that white lace bra, strands of hair getting stuck on the slick bottom lip of her open mouth. After Cassandra had desperately scrambled to get out from underneath him, shoving his shoulders down as she'd promised,

'Please-I'm sorry-It'll feel good. Just let me.'

An inversion for both of them, as they slowly find their rhythm; the bed's awkward creaking a deep contrast with the pure fucking heat in their held stare. Rust doesn't know what to do with his shit but lie back and try not to come just from the way she looks at him. Ever since being undercover, sex has been another convoy of power and domination; violence with just the same amount of blood and spit. Sex has never been an essentially good thing for Rust, not until he met Claire. For a couple years it was, now it's just become an amalgamation of proving how much of a sick asshole he is to the rest of the Crusaders and a reminder of the lurid hubris that led to his daughter's death. To be forced back onto this mildew infested mattress, and have a girl as beautiful as Cassandra take care of him, makes Rust want to either vomit or cry. But he lets her, he knows she needs this shit. Let her feel in control for 5 goddamn minutes of her life, Rust thinks, as Cassandra deeply rolls her hips down as he lifts up. An in adverted moan escapes from both; skin starting to gloss over with exertion. They both attempt to inculcate some of that violence they both need so badly: Cassandra scrapes her nails down his chest and forearm, while Rust reaches that very forearm up to grab her throat, his other hand forming yet another bruise on her hip.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' Cassandra whimpers out, as she stares down at Rust who reaches the hand that's on her thigh to grab his Camels; desperate for a goddamn anchor. As he lights one, he holds her there by the throat. Cassandra stares down at him, her body trembling with pleasure but her gaze steady.

They don't kiss.

[starry-pierrot]

Our Kits

Narinder hadn't expected his life to go this way but he can't say that having a pregnant spouse isn't something he's come to enjoy. He just hopes he can handle the responsibility. ------ Tw: Lamb fluff pregnancy, birth (Nothing graphic), mentions of fluids, cute newborns.

Characters: The Lamb(NB), Narinder, Bishops, Rose (my oc), Aym and Baal mention

------------ Woop woop! We got another one! This one is based off @doughyfluff 's super cute pregnant Lamb art. I for one an frothing at the mouth for their art and I couldn't help it! Dms are always open to screech at me Marz wink wonk. Anyway enjoy! EDIT: OOPS-Please keep in mind this is only based off someone's comics, it is not a direct storyline nor 100% canon on how they imaged things. Just for fun!

The sun poured in through the window as the night became morning, lighting up the room of the temple in a soft glow. Chirping birds making a fluffy ear twitch before a body in the shared bed began to shift and move. Lamb cracked open their eyes and as gently as they could they sat up and stretched with a yawn. 

Already they could feel their body being more tired than it usually would without the circumstances, but they needed to go and prepare for a ritual. They couldn’t just ignore their duties despite how large their belly had gotten. Some light toast and maybe a meat bowl sounded good, Heket probably has their special order at least prepared by now for breakfast. 

But before they could slip out of the bed Lamb felt warm arms slip around their middle and gently hold their stomach as a warm body leaned against them. “Good morning, mama,” the sound of Narinder's gravely voice sparking their heart to beat just a little faster and their cheeks to warm.

“Eeep! Narinder!” Lamb chuckled as they looked back at him, that third eye staring up to them with an adoration they weren’t ever sure they’d get used too. 

“You’re up early.” Narinder continued. 

“Well…I do have a ritual to prepare for. You know, being the leader and all.” At this Narinder’s face scrunched up in displeasure, usually he would be just fine with handling any cult business but lately he’s been quite more favorable to just stay in bed. 

“Don’t bother, it's a Holy Day.” Narinder moved with them as they stood up, his arms wrapping ever tighter around them. Kisses on their neck to tempt them to stay in bed. 

“You know I can’t do that.” Lamb tried to pull away to get away before they were trapped, a smile on their lips before another yawn took over. 

Suddenly their cat began to purr. “You are their god,” his hands began to run along their pregnant belly as the purrs only increased in volume, “and as your high priest I request a Holy Day.” His fingers rubbing little circles into their soft wool, “And as your husband I demand more bedtime.”

Lamb tried so hard to ignore him, tried to move away but those bastardly hands were keeping them right where he wanted them. Then a little nibble to their ear finally made them sigh and sag back against the warm body behind them. “Alright alright!” They laughed as they were gently dragged back into the bed, covers pulled over them. “I suppose another hour wouldn’t hurt.” 

Soon the two were back in a tangled web of limbs and pillows, Lamb quickly fell asleep but Narinder seemed to rather be enjoying just holding them. Looking at them as they breathed deeply, safe and warm in their bed. Looking down he could see the bump showing through the blankets and an ever more loving smile came across his face. 

Never had he thought he’d end up like this. The High Priest of his usurpers cult, his own brood on the way and he even had his family here with him. They were all so different from back then. Back when they had all hated each other. And he had the Lamb to thank for that. 

When he had first learned that the Lamb was pregnant he was excited! But also incredibly nervous to the point that he had asked Shamura for every single book they had on raising children. 

“I am to assume Lamb is with child?” Shamura had asked him, despite his injuries he seemed to be quite cognizant at times. 

Narinder of course didn’t expect Shamura to realize it so soon, feeling his cheeks heat under his fur. “....yes.” 

“Oh happy day.” 

Every night he had been reading at least one book before bed, Lamb had thought it was adorable and teased him little about it. 

But as time went on he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be ready enough for them. He of course did what he could and tried his best, through the morning sickness, crusade mood swings and even that first kick the Lamb felt. That had been one of the best days of his life. 

Though if he was honest with himself he was nervous. Scared. Could he raise his kits? Would he be a good parent? What if he did something wrong? All fears the lamb insisted were unfounded. He had to trust them right?

And as he began to feel his eyes droop he couldn’t help but think that at least Lamb would be with him. He wouldn’t be in this alone like with Aym and Baal.

He was in love. His family was back in his life. 

He wouldn’t be alone.  

—---

The weather was nice and cool as Narinder went to Mess Hall to pick up dinner for himself and the Lamb, they were getting much closer to their due date and he didn’t want them to walk if he could help it. A chuckle passed his lips thinking about how big they’ve gotten, it was a little comical with how small they were, often pouting about not being able to move as well as they used to. Narinder however thought it was adorable and took every chance to pepper that belly with kisses and purrs. 

Walking in he quickly slipped into the back, Heket was working on cleaning up and only gave him a glance in greeting. “Are these the ones?” he asked her. 

Heket gave a little sound of annoyance, “Yep…..how’s…lamb?” She asked while she washed the dishes, she had also been one to guess what was going on early. Considering the lamb had been taking more food , which had displeased her.  

“Annoyed about being in bed all day but doing fine. They have been requesting more meat bowls with those spices you like to save.” The Lamb had begged Narinder to ask Heket for more, though Heket usually liked to keep those special spices to herself. 

A huff as the frog rolled her eyes, “Only….because they’re…gravid.” She agreed, “I’ll make…some for…late night snacks.” Heket was amused at just how demanding the Lamb could be sometimes. Of course they were polite about it but even she could tell if she ever said ‘no’ there would be hell to pay. Not that she’d deprive a pregnant lamb of food. 

“Thank you, sister. You can just leave them here and I’ll pick them up later.” Narinder picked up the bowls and made his way back out the door, his tail giving her a short pat on her back on his way. It didn’t take him long to get to the temple, the large building quiet as he stepped inside. 

Though with his sensitive hearing he could hear what sounded like panting, the ear flicking as his brows scrunched a bit. Quickly moving up the stairs he gently pushed open the door that led to their bedroom, “Lamb, I’m back with the food. Heket said she’ll make you more of those spic-” he stopped. 

Lamb was sitting on the side of the bed, their legs spread and their tunic wet and dripping. They looked at him with a bit of a chuckle, “H-hey, Nari. Um…my-uh-my water broke.” Oh how they had the composure to look shy he would never know. 

“How long ago?” 

“Um-about an hour-ow!” Suddenly a wince had Narinder's fur puff out. Placing the food on the dresser he wasted no time in suddenly scooping the lamb up into their arms. 

“Wh-Narinder!” Lamb squeaked. 

“We’re going to the medbay. Now!” Oh he was not ready for this. Sure he’s read all the books he could find but actually being in this situation was not something he was mentally prepared for. What did the books say? It could take up to a couple of hours to a whole day for labor to actually begin to start but sometimes it could also start sooner than that. Before he knew it he was walking through the medbay tent, “Kallamar!’ 

The squid jumped at the shouting of his name, almost dropping a syringe, “Narinder how many times have I told you not to yell in the-oh dear.” The squid quickly put what he was doing down, telling an assistant of his to continue as he rushed over. “When did their water break?” 

“About an hour ago.” Narinder responded for them, Kallamar took a quick look over before bringing the both of them over to a bed to sit the lamb down on. 

“Any contractions?” Kallamar asked. 

“M-maybe? It uh-just feels like cramps.” Lamb answered. 

Kallamar hummed, “You might be having some Braxton Hicks. If it’s only been an hour it might be too early just yet.” Gently the squid felt around their abdomen, ignoring the slight hiss from Narinder, “Are they constant or coming and going?” 

“Coming and going…I uh-haven’t felt one since Narinder picked me up.” 

Pulling away Kallamar hummed once more, “Alright it seems you’re in the very early stages. You could stay here for now but I recommend getting a good walk in to maybe help it along.” 

“Wait, that's it?” Narinder asked as he looked at Kallamar confused. 

“That’s it for now. There's nothing we can do until they’re in active labor. It could take a couple of hours for their body to prepare. Just come back when you have constant cramps, but maybe don’t stray too far from the medical tent. I’ll alert my nurses to check in on you every once in a while.” Though the squid took one more look over the Lamb, “…maybe we should change them out of that soaked tunic first.” 

After a quick change of clothes Narinder and the Lamb were walking about the cult. With Narinder carrying them out in a soaked tunic earlier it didn’t take too long for word to get around that the Lambs child might be born soon. Though it seems the cult has a good mind to keep their distance for the time being. Leshy however-

“So whatya gonna name it?” the worm asked, “Better be something cool. Only a dork like Narinder would choose something lame.” 

“Leshy.” Narinder growled out, “I think Lamb would appreciate-” 

“He’d pick something like Nemo. Or Orion.”

Lamb couldn’t keep the smile off their face as Narinder just sighed, his hand rubbing their lower back. “We haven’t picked one yet. I want to meet them first.” 

“Going for the personality check then. Sweet. I call dibs on being the first uncle to hold them.” The worm’s leafs shook in excitement, “Gonna teach them all the cool diggin’ holes-” 

“You are not going to teach our child to be a menace like you.” Narinder cut in, ears folded back. Oh how he loved his sibling but if the kid turned out anything like him he was sure he’d be doomed as a parent. 

“You know damn well it would be boring without someone like me around here!” Leshy laughed, “Come on what kind of uncle would I be if I don’t teach them a little something!” 

Soon the two began their usual sibling bickering, not an actual fight but shouting and maybe a shove or two once the Lamb stepped away. Eventually Leshy left the two to go back to his own spouse, letting the two spend their time in peace. 

Several hours later they were back in the medbay, the contractions began to get closer and the Lamb was set up on the bed with Narinder behind them rubbing their lower back. For now they were left in a private room with frequent check-ins by either Kallamar or one of the nurses. 

“You’re doing great.” Narinder quietly said into Lamb’s ear, “You’re doing so good. Going to be the best parent.” 

“Narinder.” 

“You’ve been through worse. I hope they're a lamb. I mean I don’t care either way but I want to see a baby lamb-” 

“Narinder.”

“Just breathe and you’ll be fin-” 

“NARINDER!” Suddenly the crown’s power flares in a show of red magic, the Lamb’s horns growing just a bit more sharp as they look back at him with red eyes. “Sweetheart-”, oh fuck they were using their god voice, “You know I love you but if you keep talking I am going to kick you out and you will wait in the waiting room!”

Narinder stared at them for a moment before nodding, thoroughly quieted by the outburst of their spouse. The crown’s power dissipated and soon the lamb was groaning as they felt another contraction. Well if him talking wasn’t helping then he would do the next best thing. 

Leaning forward Narinder carefully placed his chin on the Lamb’s shoulder and began to purr, the Lamb sighing as they relaxed to the sound. 

Soon however it was obvious the time had come. The obstetrician, an alpaca named Rose, quickly prepared everyone. Originally Kallamar had been the one who wanted to help with the delivery but as soon as Narinder saw him put some gloves on-

“What are you doing?”

“Well I’m delivering the new family member! I couldn’t let just anyon-” 

“You touch them and I will cut off all of your tentacles.” 

Kallamar wanted to argue but seeing that expression on Narinder's face and the threat…well he had given into his cowardice and conceded. However he stuck close by making sure to at least be there in case something went wrong and he actually had to intervene despite Narinder’s threats. 

Leshy and their spouse, Shamura and Heket soon showed up after waiting outside as the contractions became less and less apart. 

Narinder had watched the lamb through all their hardships when they were his vessel, all the deaths, all the choices and how they handled the cult. He knew they could do this even if they were crying and squeezing his hand to the point of possible fracture. He could feel tears in his eyes but blinked them back.

“Push, my Lamb! I can see the head!” Rose encouraged, “Almost there!” 

Lamb cried out as they gave another push though weakened about halfway through it, huffing and puffing. “Fuuck-it hurts-” 

“I know, but you gotta push, you're almost done!” 

With another push Lamb cried out, this time trying with all their might. And then a wet sound and a cheerful cry, “You did it!” Quickly Rose carefully took the baby and gently began to clean it up, focusing on the face and nose until a shrill cry filled the room. She had barely wrapped the baby up before Narinder snatched the baby away from her. Gently of course. Kallamar kept his distance but was obviously excited to see the child by the way his tentacles anxiously fidgeted. 

Lamb couldn’t help but cry even more when they heard their baby, seeing them only made them sob out. Narinder just about cried out himself seeing that he had somehow managed to create life for once. Instead of taking the life of something he created life. “They’re beautiful…oh so beautiful.” Narinder leaned in to kiss their head, though that didn’t seem to deter the little one from making as much noise as they wanted. 

Not that either parent minded. 

“Agh!” Suddenly Lamb was curling up, their face scrunched up in pain as another contraction broke their attention away from their newborn. 

“Lamb?!” Narinder worriedly looked at them before looking at Rose and Kallamar, Rose quickly taking charge with a nervous Kallamar flanking her. 

After a moment her head popped up, “Oh shit-you’re gonna have to push for me again, my Lamb!” She instructed. 

“Again!?” Lamb, Narinder and Kallamar all asked out in surprise. 

“Someone’s getting a sibling!’ She happily told them, “Now push.” Lamb looked at Narinder in surprise before another contraction hit and they pushed, once more crying out. Soon another small body slipped out with a wet plop and just like before Rose was quick to act. 

The room soon was filled with two crying newborns. The second child was handed off to the lamb and Narinder just couldn’t help it anymore. A sob broke out of his throat as the tears he had been holding back finally began to stream down his face. 

“Oh Narinder…” Lamb mumbled as they saw their husband cry like a child because of his own children.

Discreetly Rose and Kallamar slipped out after a quick look to make sure there wasn’t a third, though she had to tug the squid along. 

Narinder hiccuped as he scrubbed at his eyes, but the tears kept coming, “T-twins…we ha-have twins!” It was awfully familiar to him as he once had to raise Aym and Baal on his own, though this time he hopes he does a better job. 

“N-no wonder I got so big…” A chuckle as they thumbed the little ones forehead, the newborn’s cries soon turning to hiccups. And once one began to calm down so did the other. 

“They're beautiful. I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful…not even as a god.” Narinder whispered as he carefully slipped into the cot next to Lamb. Using his right arm to wrap around their shoulders as they moved closer. “What should we name them?” 

Lamb took a good look at the two newborns, they both seemed to be a mix of themselves and Narinder. Though one seemed more cat-like and the other more sheep. One even had Narinder’s three eyes. “...you know I like the name Lilith.” 

“Lilith?” Narinder seemed to think about it in his head for a moment, “It is a lovely name. And maybe.. Dantalion for the other one?” He asked just before leaning in and kissing the newborn’s head. 

“I think that would be perfect. Perfect names for the perfect kits. Our kits.” An exhausted smile rested on the Lamb’s lips. 

“Our k-kits.” Another sob from Narinder made Lamb chuckle and lean over to give him a sweet kiss. 

“Our kits.”