#I can't stop watching them walking... where they going..

[muniemimi]

I HAD A VISION OK. ehem excuse my ugly grammar, to anyone who comes across this post, hope you like it:33 (also love the art)

       Huff! And there we go, last sack of orchid seeds to organize. "That was a pretty heavy An, I'm glad you called me over before Ken-san would see you lifting and scold me for letting his precious daughter get tired." The sun continues to direct its blaze at our little flower shop managed by my coworker, and singing partners, dad. Along with the light, the winds blow a warm breeze past us, balancing the temperature. The air smelt of wet soil and the mix of fragrance from different flowers we had just finished arranging just now spread. An hour from now, we're able to go back to the 'Weekend Cottage' where me and An usually practice with the supervision and guidance of Ken-san to take a short break before we go back to watch the shop and tend to our costumers.

      "Akito.. don't inhale the pancakes at our break later.. leave some for Kohane-chan! She promised me shes coming back today! I'm planning to give her some too while I teach her bout' our shop."

     "Aah enough with this lovestruck manners! Alright, alright fine, I won't."

    I was already planning to hide the snacks for myself since earlier.. How'd she know I'd do it again? As expected of my close friend. For now I'll just slouch behind the counter and wait for time to pass by more quickly. Hurriedly, I focused my eyes on the lovely combination of petals infront of me. Chrysanthemums. The symbol of longevity and love. The way those countless petals curl to the middle of flower, focused on the most noticeable feature, the core. It was the way I have learned this flower had different colors too. My favorite. And it also happens that, that same plant represented my birth month. From the moment I had learned to walk, I had run across fields of flowers to which it seemed to be endless, and only one seemed to stop my being. It was as if it had poison, an antidote that could make me behave and listen. Since then I have kept chrysanthemums where I can see them, to watch them grow. Slowly, the clock slowly swings its arm around. While I intently adore the plants I have bloomed, an unfamiliar sound snatched my attention.

SNAP!

      A stem. My stem of sunflowers. I can faintly hear new steps from my side of the counter. An was in the greenhouse, sprinkling the shrubs I assume. I don't need to worry about that right now, I have to focus on who is suspiciously, threading lightly on a completely normal flower shop, if not a shopper. It can't be strays.. I've carefully fended them off and guided them away from the store so the plants wouldn't be disturbed. Or maybe I missed a few pups running around? Damn.. I should've just asked for help from An to drive away the dogs. I still can't seem to get used to getting close to them.. Our windows are tinted with translucent glass so it's pretty hard to see what was it that was rustling outside, so I need to check it out myself.

     I warily walk towards the wood door. It opens with no sound emitted, and I continue to inspect my surroundings, to find any movement, none. When I tilt my head to peek at the side I heard the snap, there was no one, nor no animal. What was visible was a sunflower that seemed to be trampled on the stem, but the flower itself didn't seem to be crushed. I hum to myself proudly to know that it really was a sunflower, glad to know I still know my own buds. Before I took another step to make sure no one was there, I call out a greeting, waiting for somebody to respond,

"..Hello?"

     And then I squat down to pick up the mangled handle of the wide flower. I got up from my knees, hearing the faint tapping of shoes behind me. I had thought it was An running towards here to call me back to watch the counter. It felt so similar to the sandals the star-clipped girl always wore when working.

    "Oh hey An, back from watering the plants so fast? Did you come here to ask me to come to the front desk? Don't worry about it, I just checked if there was someone here, it was probably just a stray dog I missed when I was shooing them away. Hah.. they stepped on my sunflower.. Anyway, do you mind if you take thi--"

CLICK!

!!!

    A..ah.. something clicks.

    I turn around in hopes the sunflower in my hand would be met with the bright, familiar face of my coworker only for it to be met with a.. gun..? Gun? Here? In this quiet, unknown town? Slowly trembling out of nervousness, I thought, I won't be able to defend myself if I attacked suddenly. They have a gun for heavens sake! 

    I can't quite see who was holding the weapon, only the hair of the individual being the first thing I notice. It was the combination of two seperate colors. It was a pale, muted baby blue on the left and a more dark, navy blue on the right. Was it a natural hair color they were born with? I can't help but stare at the odd mix of pigments. It strongly reminded me of orchids gathered with hyacinths and delphiniums in a bouquet, and was getting distracted by the fact a deadly weapon was still being pointed at my temple! I try my best to whisper a sentence without seemingly wanting to provoke the figure infront of me. Still poorly gripping the flower I had in my palm since earlier, visibly shaking and terrified.

   "..Your wound." 

   ".. ..?

   ..What..?"

(english seriously aint my first language, anyways I love akitoya)

mama im in love with a criminallll

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Chapter II: “Dancing with fabric (and glances).”

WARNING: Panic attack

Masterlist

I was on a stage, too big to be a normal one or at least that was my perspective. I was wearing my suit, with the fans in my hands as the fabric touched the floor.

There was no one by my side, I was alone.

There was no one in the seats in the audience either, not a single person to watch me dance at that moment.

I let out a sigh. I started dancing.

The music in my head started playing but now it also started to be heard on the stage. slowly. Little by little. The music continued to grow.

I moved with the fabric of the fans that slowly became longer and longer.

I reached a point where I could no longer appreciate what was in front of me, I could no longer feel the cold floor of the theater.

But the lights. They were getting brighter as the music came to an end.

They wrapped me up in such a soft way, it was so suffocating.

I always wanted to be in the spotlight, to be the leader, to be the one leading the dance.

Why does it feel so different now?

I fell to my knees at the same time that the music slowly stopped along with that voice that made me remember that everything was a dream.

I hadn't realized how big the fan fabric was now, so long that it reached to the ends of the stage, The skirt also grew now it was so long and big that I couldn't stand up because of the weight of the fabric on my waist.

It shouldn't have been heavy, but it was.

It's too big for me.

When the fan fabric stopped, I fixed my gaze on the audience.

The only lights were above me, they moved where I was going but never where I wanted.

I couldn't shine light on them. I wanted to shine light on them to see their faces.

What expressions will they have? Are they waiting for me to keep dancing? Even though I can't get up, they want me to continue with the show?

Just talk, say it.

I will, just please...

Stop

Looking

at me.

[Name] immediately gets up from her bed feeling her heart beating quickly and painfully, her feet were numb as were her arms.

While she was sitting in her bed, she tried to relax. Is this what people call "lucid dreaming"?

When she finally felt her legs and arms move just a little to get used to it, it felt like a million ants were walking on her limbs.

She sighed and then tried to get up, she managed it but a little wobbly.

She grabbed a towel along with a set of clothes to go to the bathroom.

She loved her new room, I think it would be more accurate to call it her fiveteenth room.

Compared to the previous one, which was already starting to be quite small for her and too childish, in an attempt to free up her room a bit as she ran out of space.

She found a not so small door in the ceiling, she could barely open it and saw the enormous space that had moved to that hidden part of the mansion.

But obviously being a attic, it didn't have a bathroom, that was the only thing [Name] regretted.

Once she could feel her arms and feet much better she opened the attic door and carefully went down the stairs.

"What are you doing up there, little one?"

[Name] almost fell down the stairs from the fright, she immediately looked back even though she was on the stairs to...

"First with the child...and now with the hypocrite." [Name] thought, trying not to frown, well, not so much.

"Dick, you scared me!" She did her best to fake that squeaky voice she remembers.

And thank goodness it worked. Except for one small detail.

Dick frowned.

"Dick?"

"Did something happen? Or why that face?" She finally came down from the stairs and with a little force, she pushed the stairs up and in turn closed the attic door with a small 'click'.

"What face?"

"Well, you know, that confused face..." She smiled slightly, but inside her head she was analyzing him, exactly his expression.

Dick genuinely had a face of confusion hidden, he was smiling and using his body to express otherwise.

But his eyes narrowed for a few moments before she asked about his expression.

"Oh! Don't worry little one, It's just that I've never seen that attic, and with good reason."

Dick walked past [Name] and checked the entrance to the attic better, either tensely or intentionally the entrance was very well camouflaged.

[Name] nodded. "I thought you'd be in Bludhaven by now."

"I decided to stay a few days, mostly to rest." [Name] nodded again, keeping that small smile. "And you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

Dick laughed at her confusion.

"What were you doing up there?"

[Name] opened her mouth slightly and then closed it instantly, What the hell could she say?

"Umm, well, I was looking for some things for my dance classes!"

"Your dance classes?"

"Yep! When I found that place I started using it as a place to store some clothes or supplies that they sometimes ask us for in class." This time the tone was a little shriller, it was a mix between the voice she was faking and the nervousness of being caught.

Dick only looked at her for a few moments before instantly lowering the attic door without breaking his gaze.

"First, it's bad to lie to your brother and second, you're a very bad liar, little one." Dick smiled before carefully climbing the stairs, frowning at the unsteady ladder.

[Name] just sighed in frustration. "Let's see, how the fuck did Dick fucking Grayson know I'd be here?" She didn't say anything, nothing came out of her mouth.

Dick on the other hand was greatly surprised by what was inside, two mattresses one on top of the other, a nightstand, two not so large trunks accompanied by drawers to store clothes.

There were some hand-painted colorful bottles hanging in the higher parts of the attic, surely her creations.

The only lights illuminating the place were the skylight, a row of light bulbs, and the lamp on the nightstand.

It was a room.

Why would his sister sleep here?

Why didn't he know this?

Why...she didn't tell him about this?

"[Name]" He called her but there was no answer.

He turned around and with a leap landed in the hallway of the mansion, leaving the attic.

Only to realize she was gone.

"Shit..." He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up a bit. "Was this always her room?.."

Of course not.

And that was what was causing him an uncomfortable stomach ache.

He glanced at the attic that was still open, his curiosity got the better of him again, he went back in.

But this time he looked more closely at the "room."

The lights were off leaving only the skylight as a light source, it felt quite comfortable actually.

The orange and yellow light of dawn began to stream even further through the skylight, starting to flood some parts of the room with its light.

But the moment the light reached a certain angle of the room, everything lit up with colors, distracting Dick a little.

The lights from the bottles illuminated the rest of the room, which was still dark.

Now the whole room was illuminated without even a single artificial light switch on. Dick stood admiring for several long minutes the little light show his sister had created.

That admiration turned into something else when he noticed that on top of one of the trunks was a medium-sized box.

He walked over slowly, grabbed the box and sat down on the makeshift bed.

A long skirt and a very long fabric was the first thing she saw, but what caught her attention was the only colored fabric that was in that box.

Two fans with gradients of warm colors, yellow, orange and red. Red was what remained the most on both fans.

"This is what Alfred gave you...I don't think it's suitable for a girl of your age-"

Wait.

"How old are you?."

[Name] arrived at the bathroom tired from running, well, now she has to get away from Dick, how ironic.

"Oh. My. GOD." She immediately leaned against the bathroom wall and slowly lowered herself until she ended up sitting.

She brought her hands to her hair, ruffling it quite a bit.

"Will this affect anything? I mean, technically do I travel back in time, or am I reincarnated? IT DOESN'T MATTER." She jumped back up and began pacing back and forth.

"Actions have consequences, allowing Dick into my room will surely change something..." [Name] stopped instantly.

"In fact... he, no, no one, found that place, at no time during my childhood until I left...What did I do?-"

Her breathing gradually began to become more agitated than before.

She felt her palms getting sweatier than before, she felt like she had been punched in the stomach and all the air she had been knocked out of her but she couldn't get it back no matter how hard she tried.

Gradually her legs as well as her hands began to shake, she didn't feel it because she was so lost in her head until she fell to the floor.

Her legs gave out as she trembled and she brought her hands to her chest. She felt dizzy.

Ten minutes passed, she still felt the trembling in her hands but her legs stopped shaking, she was still kneeling on the floor.

The dizziness disappeared but the result was a sharp headache.

"Shit...and I have to go to school." She muttered as she tried to stand up with the help of the sink. "Please, just for today, no more surprises."

"Whoever is behind this, leave me the surprises when I find a way to get back and leave here..."

If there is any way. Safe.

NOTES: Heyyyyy guess who's back? Well I genuinely hope you all like it.

You know, if you want to ask questions, ask them, and if you want to be on the taglist, let me know in the comments.

In the end! I love you muak muak muak💋

TAGLIST:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864 @eyeless-kun @welpthisisboring @saiichai @leeiasure @shycreatorreview @bat1212 @vanessa-boo @midnightgrimoire @thereeallink @c4xcocoa @jsprien213 @stargirl404 @chericia @a-lurking-fae @kye-chen-r @alittletiredcry @lfiee @mishkapi @cxcilla @alittlelostmoonchild @ocean-mochi @randomlyappearingartist @thegothamsiren @lilithskywalker @gmwtsw @deathbynarcisstick @wizzerreblogs @mariadvorak @stardustnightfall @cristy-101

[primrosechronicles]

"For the Queen: Prologue"

Credits to @diviniyae and @graphic-cest for the dividers

A Epic the Musical Telemachus x Sorcerer!Reader

Summary: After multiple restless nights plagued by the laughter of his mother’s unwelcome suitors, Prince Telemachus finds himself lost in the depths of the enchanted forest... Warnings: Mild Violence, the suitors Word Count: 1477

He walked along the rocky path, the moon illuminating his way as the sound of crinkling leaves reached his ears. He stopped with a sigh and slumped against a tree.

He needed a break from those… suitors, their boisterous laughter overflowing throughout the castle. No matter how many sheep he counted or pillows he piled atop his head, he could still hear their chortling. 

Suddenly, he heard the howls of wolves, followed by the sound of their approaching footsteps. He sprinted as fast as he could, not knowing that he was driving himself deeper into the woods. Glancing over his shoulder to see if the wolves were still behind him, he failed to see where he was going, his foot struck something, and with a crash, he knocked over a jar of water.

"Hey! My water!" a voice shouted.

Telemachus turned to see a broken bowl, the water spilling onto the dirt. From the doorway, an annoyed sorcerer popped their head out, eyes narrowing at the mess.

"My apologies, I did not watch where I was going." he blurted, scrambling to piece the bowl back together.

The mage watched him, amused by how this clumsy man was. "Don’t bother," they said. "I’ve been meaning to replace that bowl anyway."

Crossing their arms, they gave him a curious look. "Why are you here, anyway? This part of the woods isn’t safe.".

He sighed, the very thought of them made him wanna vomit “I was taking a walk… the intruders… inside my house were too loud, I couldn't sleep.”

You open the door to your house and invite him to  “Come Inside, Prince Telemachus.”

“How.. Do you know my name…?” the prince says while parting the beaded Curtains.

You point outside the window “It's because the surrounding trees within 2 kilometers of my house have a spell cast on them.”

You guide him towards one of your work tables, on it a black piece of paper, then snap your fingers, then suddenly a paper with a symbol materializes before his eyes. “This sigil is a hybrid between a protection and illusion spell, it helps my house stay hidden from unwanted visitors.”

“Unwanted visitors? But how was I able to enter?” Asks the prince.

You sigh as you think back to the past souls who came to you for aid. “Before I moved into the forests near Ithaca, I was in another area, my spells and magic became known to the town and I was sought after for favors… “ you wince. “Most of them for very bad reasons.”

You turn to the prince “The reason why you got in is because you either have good intentions or… you simply got lost, one of the two, the spell makes the forest twist itself to keep bad people out and lost.”

“That's quite clever, does the forest possess a mind of its own?”  

You think about it for a second “No, it's linked to me in a way that I…I can’t seem to describe…..”  

After some time in conversation, you look out the window and you see the sky is in hues of deep violet and gold. “Night is approaching.” you offer your hand to the prince “allow me to accompany you back to the city, Prince.”

The Prince looks at your hand, then softly moves it back into your chest. “Do tell me, precisely, why it is necessary for me to hold onto your hand. Can't you simply walk in front of me and I follow close behind?” 

“It isn't as simple as that..” 

As the prince strides toward the forest, a root suddenly sprouts from the ground, catching his foot and sending him tumbling forward.  

He quickly pushes himself up, brushing the dirt from his clothes before turning to face the forest, his expression somewhere between surprised and kind of.. offended. “Is it a magical rule? Will I be trapped here if I refuse?”  

“No!” You huff. “It’s just… the forest doesn’t really trust people on their own. If you go in without me, it might—”  

“Ohhh,” he interrupts, smirking. “So you want  to hold my hand.”  

You sputter. “Also No! I—”  

He chuckles. “You must know that I merely jest with you.” Then, before you can argue, he reaches out and takes your hand, fingers warm against yours. He gives it a light squeeze. “There, lead the way sorcerer.”

You walk forward, pulling the Prince along as you do. The Forest's carefully threaded spell unravels just a bit as the fauna and rocks shift to clear a path for the both of you.

The suitors have gotten bolder, more loud in their threats, It scared him. Telemachus sits at the foot of the entrance to his mothers room. Telemachus sits, gripping a sword in one hand and a shield on the other.

Their actions have made him paranoid that the suitors might break into his mother’s room while she is… vulnerable. While the Queen’s chambers are heavily guarded, and he does not doubt the abilities of those Guards… he cannot shake the chilling feeling of unease.

The Queen pushes the door to her chambers but it gets caught against.. Something solid.. And it’s preventing her from not letting the doors completely open.

She peeks her head around the door and sees her son sleeping on the floor with a sword and shield on his person.

The Queen, Penelope, kneels down beside her son and gently shakes him awake. The prince stirs and his eyes open lazily. “Mother..?”

She chuckles at the sight of her son's bed head… or rather in this case a ‘floor-head’

“Yes, it's me Telemachus.. but why are you sleeping on the ground?” Her hand gently caresses  Telemachus' soft cheek. “And your eyelids.. They are quite swollen, did you cry last night?” He tensed up “Mother… To tell you the truth, I fear for your safety; The thought of the suitors causing you harm.. Cheats me of my rest.” 

“My son, I appreciate you being concerned for my safety.. But what more can you do? When your father left he entrusted multiple guards with the duty of protecting both you and me."

Telemachus looks away, doubt fills his soul, unconvinced by his mother’s words.

The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks fills his ears as he gazes up at the ceiling, his Mother’s words occupying his head.

He knows that his mother is correct in assuming she is safe, even the guards that protected him ensured that he was secure; But he can’t help but dwell on it.

His mind drifts to you, and soon, an idea began to take shape.

Telemachus walks through the forest with his wish in mind. The forest may be dense but the path feels strangely effortless, as it's like the forest…knows his purpose and welcomes his presence. 

He is filled with amazement as he sees the forest’s spell in action. He sees the trees reposition its roots, the rocks glide aside, and vines slither away to clear a path for him. As the final trees part, his breath catches in his throat; at the sight of you.

Under the shade of a large tree, you sit there sipping your drink. You set your cup down and gesture to the seat before you and as if expecting his presence today; a second cup waits for him. 

He takes the seat in front of you, taking a slow sip at his drink. A odd, but not uncomfortable tension fills the air.

“You mustn't place the security of your mother in the hands of my magic.” 

His head snaps up, his eyebrows furrowing “Why not? Your house is protected by this..” He wildly gestures around him “..protection spell!”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn't trust me, this protective barrier has many flaws; please ask for another sorcerer to do it.” Looking away from him, you drink your beverage.

“Sorcerers are difficult to find, let alone hire!” Suddenly he stood up and seizes your hand, effectively knocking your cup out of your hand shattering it into pieces. He kneels before you begging “Please… protect my mother… grace her with your protection… I will do anything.”

You sigh “...Get up Prince, you have no business kneeling for someone like me.” He gets on his feet, his pleading eyes locking with yours.

“Very well, I shall do whatever I can to make a protection spell for your mother.”

“Thank you! Thank you… my mother means so much to me I cannot thank you enough–” “Under one condition.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, silencing him with your gaze. “Anything regarding the spell, be it materials, herbs, or otherwise; you will provide them.”

Without warning, he pulls your hand and pulls you into a hug; his face buried in the crook of your neck, his tears staining your clothes. “I will do anything you ask.”

A/N: this took me WEEKS to finish how the fuck am I supposed to update consistently help.

[chosaraki]

"Why are there so many people in the world?"

————————————

Daniel, Gun, Jake, Gitae, James x R.femele

——————————————————————

You be called : y/n

—————————————————————————

Y/N is a woman with an explosive temperament, zero patience for inconvenient people and a brutal honesty. Her trademark phrase, "Why are there so many people in the world?", reflects her constant frustration with the excess of people around her.

—————————————————————————

Daniel Park :

Daniel parked the car and sighed, looking at Y/N, who was with his arms crossed and a deadly look on his face. He knew something was bothering her.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

Y/N snorted, tapping his feet impatiently. "Why are there so many people in the world, Daniel? Like, seriously! Can't there be only half a dozen people and that's it? Life would be so much easier."

He let out a low laugh. "You say that every time someone annoys you."

"Yes, because there's always someone annoying me!" She grumbled.

Before Daniel could answer, a car next to them lowered the window and an unknown guy smiled smugly. "Hey, princess, your boyfriend doesn't seem to be cheering you up. How about coming with us?"

Y/N turned his head slowly, his eyes shining with a mixture of irritation and fun.

"Do you REALLY want to do this, friend?"

The guy laughed. "You look tough. I bet it's just pose."

Before Daniel could intervene, Y/N took the guy's head by the hair and BANG—hit with everything against the window of his own car. The glass trembled with the impact, and the guy let out a moan of pain.

"Now get out of my way before I really break your face," she warned.

Daniel covered his mouth with his hand so as not to laugh. "You really don't have patience, do you?"

She leaned back on the bench, still with her face closed. "Why are there so many people in the world, Daniel? Explain it to me!"

————————————————

Gun Park :

Gun was standing still, arms crossed, while watching Y/N complain about the excess of people around.

"Look at this, Gun. Why are there so many people in the world? This here looks like a zoo without cages."

He let out a low "hm", finding it funny in her irritation.

It was then that a random man approached, clearly unaware of the danger. "Hey, babe. You seem a little angry. Do you want me to calm you down?"

Gun already knew what was going to happen even before Y/N reacted.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the guy's head and—PÁ!—hit with everything against the glass of a nearby car. The noise of the impact made some people turn around, while the idiot collapsed on the ground, moaning.

Gun sighed and looked at her. "Do you need to be so aggressive?"

Y/N threw his hair back. "Do you think I would let a trash like that breathe near me?"

Gun smiled slightly. "Good answer."

——————————————————

Jake Kim:

Jake and Y/N were walking the streets of Gangbuk when a group of random guys began to face Y/N suspiciously.

Jake already knew how this would end.

"Hey, princess," one of the idiots called. "Do you want to go for a walk with us?"

Y/N stopped at the same moment and turned to them.

"Did you just call me princess?"

The guy smiled. "Are you offended, cutie?"

Jake was already about to take a step forward, but Y/N was faster. She grabbed the guy by the collar, pulled him towards her and—PÁ!—hit his head against a nearby pole.

The guy's friends retreated, shocked.

"Does anyone else want to try?" She asked.

Jake crossed his arms, a proud smile on his face. "I didn't even need to do anything."

She looked at him, still in a bad mood. "Why are there so many people in the world, Jake? Answer me!"

————————————————

Gitae Kim :

Gitae was finishing moving her motorcycle when she heard Y/N snort on the other side of the garage.

"Why are there so many people in the world? My God, this is hell!"

He laughed. "Wat it was now?"

"He was an idiot who thought he could flirt with me. Guess where he is now?"

Gitae looked around. "Where?"

She pointed to an unconscious guy near a car. "There."

He blinked a few times and looked at her with admiration. "You're really rude, huh?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't have the patience for garbage."

Gitae gave a half smile. "That's why I like you."

———————————————

James Lee :

James was in the corner of an exclusive club, watching Y/N with his penetrating gaze.

She was impatient, rolling her eyes. "Why are there so many people in the world, James? I'm almost exploding here."

He just took a sip of his drink. "Don't care about them."

But, of course, there's always a clueless one.

"Hi, beautiful, do you dance?"

Y/N looked at the guy as if he were an insect. "And you breathe?"

The guy laughed. "Of course."

"Then stop breathing."

James already knew it was going to be shit, but decided to watch it.

The guy insisted. "Come on, you look angry, let me cheer you up."

Y/N just grabbed his head and—BANG!—hit against the nearest table.

The silence took over the place.

James sighed, taking another sip. "I tried to warn you."

She looked at him. "Why are there so many people in the world, James?!"

He laughed low. "I don't know, but you're doing a great job reducing the number."

—————————————————————————

Each scenario shows how she reacts to situations where someone tries to approach her in an unwanted way—and how her partners (Daniel, Gun, Jake, Gitae and James) deal with this chaos. While some try to understand her impatience, others simply accept that she is like that and appreciate her aggressive way of solving problems.

The tone is a mixture of comedy, action and unconventional romance, with a touch of brutality that makes the dynamic between Y/N and the characters even more unique.

—————————————————————————

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

So now came another question: what was the distraction? Well.....

He stands up and clears his throat, then he walks. He walks into the room where the two women are. "YOU THERE!" He points at the two women.

"He can't be serious.." Megumi said as the others watched. Yuji blinks but sweatdrops. "I think he is..."

Seems it was working before noticing the demons being summoned; two hellhounds. This was going to be crazy. Hearing the growling from the two, Rena glares to see the two hellhounds still growling.

"You are seriously stupid!!! Coming out in the open like this and it's only going to make this too easy!" she said. "Get him!!!" she said seeing the two hellhounds rushing to attack. However, a black flamed blades stops the hellhounds to make them back up.

"What the-" Rena saw another teenager show up showing Jinx who was having the blackish hell flames panther ears and tail. "Who the fuck are you!?"

"Ohhhh..just a battle buddy....but you shouldn't worry about that." she said with a grin with the tail swaying behind her. "So how about we have some fun huh?!"

"It's okay, Miko! I won't do anything reckless." Daichi insures her with a pat on the shoulder. "It's just it's only way to get that slab back and return to its proper owner."

"The sooner we get that slab, the sooner we return it and complete the mission without any issues," Daichi said. Easier said than done, and this mission won't be a walk in the park. "And Jinx, thanks for backing me up. Not to worry I have a plan. Just follow my lead."

She blinks to hear this from Daichi though she still worries about him even so. However, that made her sigh. "I understand....but still...It don't feel right..." she mutters softly.

Now came the question to who will get the slab during this. The answer was Taz. Though, this shows that it proves something. Even seeing that Taz was pretty fast so it would seem right for her to give it a shot.

"So we have our plan then? Then lets get to it." Jinx said seeing the others nodding. Because like he said, time is not on their side right now. This had to be quick and fast.

[wweasleyhp]

my smoking buddy, my partner in crime, my love (Fred Weasley x reader)

Potential trigger warnings: Smoking, comas (I've never done these before so hopefully I've done that right)

"Are you guys okay?" George asks.

We're on the balcony. The protection spell can be seen surrounding the castle. Any second the Death Eaters will strike. Time is running out.

"Yeah," I reply, "Fred?"

He's still looking up. His eyes are wide. I've never seen him look so scared before.

"Yeah, I'm fine darling," he answers, a forced smile plastered on his face.

I know not to push. We're all terrified. Some are better at hiding it than others. Unfortunately for Fred, he can't hide it from me as well as he thinks.

We're going to be okay. I have to believe that. Otherwise I'll fall apart.

I still haven't confessed to Fred my feelings. I'm terrified of both. The battle and telling the truth to Fred. The thing is I don't think he feels the same.

Suddenly, spells can be heard. The Death Eaters are destroying the protection spell.

"Stay alive, yeah?" I say to the twins.

George nods and moves to go inside the castle. Fred doesn't move yet.

"I mean it," I say, "I need my smoking buddy."

Cigarettes, cigarettes out the window

Cigarettes, cigarettes out the window

I heard Fred's footsteps walking over to me. He sat next to me, by the window. I passed him a cigarette. Second nature.

He chuckled softly as he placed it in his mouth and I lit it for him. I stared out the window watching the sun set.

"Dad got tickets for the Quidditch World Cup," he said as he exhaled.

"That's great," I replied, "Excited?"

He nodded, "I was wondering..."

"Not a good sign," I joked.

He smiled, "Would you wanna come?"

I knew what my answer was but I wanted to tease him a bit. I exaggerated a thinking motion.

"Come on," he rolled his eyes and jokingly punched my arm, "You're basically family."

That stung oddly enough. He was right. Ever since we moved when I was six years old my parents and the Weasleys were best friends. Including Fred and I. However I wondered what that meant Fred saw me as. Just like a sister?

"Fine, I'll go," I said, hiding the slight hurt that I felt.

"Yes!" he responded, "You won't regret it."

We were sixteen then. The only worries were what job we wanted. Who knew that a few months later the world would change as we knew?

As I'm turning to walk away from him, he grabs my hand, "Wait!"

I look back at him, confused.

He leans in closer to me. But then he stops. Inches away from my lips. I lean in and he seals the distance, placing a soft kiss on my lips. He's uncertain. I kiss him back.

The kiss suddenly becomes more passionate. More desperate. As if we've both become aware that this could be our last chance. We're in danger and we don't know whether we'll make it out the other end alive.

We pull apart.

"I love you," I blurt out, eyes stinging.

Be careful.

"I love you too," he replies.

I will, you too.

----------------------------------------------------------

As I'm fighting and throwing spells, I realise Fred and I have been separated. He's okay. I know he is.

Then as I look, I see Harry standing over the dead body of Voldemort. The war is over.

I immediately rush to find Fred. The only thing on my mind. Fred. Fred. Fred.

I notice a group of people with fiery ginger hair. The Weasleys. I run to them. George engulfs me in a hug.

"Hi," I say in a hoarse voice, "Thank Merlin you're okay. Where's Fred?"

"He's alive," he answers.

There's something he's not telling me.

"But?" I ask, my voice shaking.

"There was an explosion, he's in a coma," he says.

----------------------------------------------------------

It's been a month since the Second Wizarding War has officially come to an end. And Fred is still in St Mungo's. In a coma.

I brought you daffodils on a pretty string

I sit by Fred's bedside. I didn't leave his side for the first two days but George had told me to rest. I didn't want to leave him but I knew I had to.

"Hey," I whisper, as if he's listening, "I brought you fresh daffodils."

I had been doing so every day. It's his favourite flower.

"You must be getting tired of me at this point," I laugh weakly, "It's not my fault you're not awake- uh it's not yours either, I'm not blaming you or anything."

But I'm angry at you. I'm angry at you that you're not awake and you just left me with a kiss. Why? Why not when I was sixteen and we were smoking outside my window?

I kiss him lightly on the forehead, "Please wake up. I need you. Please."

----------------------------------------------------------

There's a knock at the door. I open it. It's Ron.

"Hey Ron," I force a smile, "What can I help you with?"

"Fred's awake," he says, "George is with him now."

I nod and immediately grab his hand. We apparate to St Mungo's.

I run to Fred's room. I open the door. George smiles at me but it's not a very enthusiastic one.

"Hey," I say as I see Fred sitting awake.

He's awake.

But before I can say another word, Fred asks, "Who's that?"

It feels like a punch to the gut. He doesn't remember me.

"Fred lost his memory," George explains, "He doesn't quite remember me either."

"Oh," I breathe out, "Uh, I'm Y/N."

He nods, "That seems familiar, were we friends?"

Friends.

"Yeah," I reply.

George looks at me. A slight sad look.

When I told you 'I'm fine' you were lied to

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine," I answer, even though I can feel my eyes stinging.

I can't cry. Not right now.

"Well I'm sorry I can't remember you," he says in the sweetest voice.

It makes me feel terrible.

"Don't be," I say, "It's not your fault, you can remember George a bit?"

"Yeah, well, I can tell he's my twin," he answers with a small laugh.

A quiet chuckle escapes my throat along with George.

----------------------------------------------------------

As the days go by, George and I try to help Fred regain his memory. I go in and greet him.

"Good morning," I smile.

"Morning," he answers, "Question; were we trouble makers at school?"

I chuckle softly, "You could say that."

"I have a memory of us two running down the hall, George was running in front of us," he explains, "At one point we had to hide behind a wall."

"Yeah, that's right."

It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

"I can't believe I agreed to help you two!" I shouted angrily as we ran down the corridors.

We had put dungbombs in Filch's office and he immediately saw us.

Fred started laughing. This made me even more angry.

"This isn't funny, Weasley," I said.

"Oh come on darling," Fred responded, "We needed you."

"More like Fred needed you," George retorted.

Suddenly, Fred pulled me to hide behind a wall. I started to breathe heavily and he placed a hand on my mouth. When Filch had gone past us, he took away his hand.

"You needed me?" I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Is that such a bad thing?" he smiled, "George is my other half while you're my partner in crime."

Partner in crime.

I smiled back at him.

Fred and I start talking about all the antics we were up to during our Hogwarts days. I then leave to give him some rest. I meet with George.

"You love him, don't you?" he asks.

I look at him, "Yeah. A lot."

"Oh you lovesick fools," he says, "I saw a bit of your little make-out session before the battle began."

"Stalker," I joke.

He chuckles.

The next day, he asks about another memory, "My brothers and I are flying around on brooms while you're reading a book by a tree."

"That was at your house, the Burrow."

He's so tall and handsome as hell.

I'm sat by a tree, reading a book. The boys were playing Quidditch. As I'm reading though, my eyes casually drifted upwards. To Fred. It was hot and he had taken off his shirt.

Then I saw him score a goal and he winked at me. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks and I was hoping that he couldn't see it.

After they were done playing, he sat beside me.

"You were staring," he whispered.

I rolled my eyes, "In your dreams."

"Come on darling, admit it," he said.

"And further inflate that ego of yours?"

There's a knock at my front door. I open it. Fred.

"Hey," I say surprised, "Have they let you out?"

He doesn't reply. Instead he leans in and kisses me. I kiss him back and before I realise there's tears falling down my cheeks.

"I remember," he says, "Everything."

"Everything?" I choke.

He kisses the tears running down my cheeks, "I could hear what you said when I was in the coma."

"I love you."

"I love you too," he says, "I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you."

"It's alright," I smile, "You have eternity to make up for it."

A/N: This is probably the longest little fanfic I wrote. I used prompts from @creativepromptfills from the Angsty Kisses list and I used inspiration from some songs:

Cigarettes Out The Window by TV Girl

Another Love by Tom Odell

Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood

Mess It Up by Gracie Abrams

Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

[northstarscowboyhat]

I was thinking abt your Lucky Clover au (as i often do) and decided to make a sprite animation of Clover and Frisk ‼️

I loved drawing their designs! They look so silly i love them

OH MY GOODNESS! What a lovely surprise this was in my inbox!

This is some gorgeous sprite work! I love how you've rendered these designs, the little details like Frisk's hair clips and the ribbon on Clover's hair tie being a thinner outline, Clover's big poofy ponytail and the tassels on their poncho, I love it! This is so well polished they could be plopped right into an Undertale game!

And such a cute concept OMG... they're doing the Toriel hand hold while walking... this pose is adorable! I also love that Clover is smiling whereas Frisk has their usual neutral expression, just gah, so many small details to love and notice! This is absolutely warming my heart!

Thank you so much for this beautiful gift! And thank you for the kind words about Lucky Clover AU oh my gosh, hearing that someone else thinks about it (other than myself haha) is so flattering!

[wat-zu]

Absolutely love your art. I want to nom it.

Also, Hollow Heads Siblings my beloveds,,,

Theyre the doomed siblings ever its not even funny

[g-k444]

Idea: use body paint to paint on a bikini for me before we go to the beach

watch as heads turn at my tits that bounce just a little too freely, and my pussy lips which are shown with every step where my legs part and the little pink slit is revealed a bit more

someone comes over with a mate and points out that im not wearing anything and that they could call the police on me for public indecency. but the stubborn brat i am - i cross my arms over my plump chest and say that they can't prove that im not wearing a bikini.

they take that as a challenge.

they lunge for me, wrestling me down onto the sand and pinning down my struggling and flailing body as i try to fight them off of me, though my nipples pique with a wanton neediness for the way that they assert their strength over my weakness, forcing my forearms down into the ground and pushing my thighs down so that i cannot kick them

the main one who initially pointed out my lack of clothing has his hands on my thighs - and uses them to split my legs apart, parting the orange paint and revealing the pink folds of my pussy.

"How's that for no bikini? Look at this."

I can feel tears welling to my eyes as i hear a gasp, and open my eyes to see passerbys looking - some even stopping their walk to watch as the stranger between my legs opens my fold with two fingers and reveals my slick and wet hole that leaks with cum from just this morning

"What a slut, freshly creampied and already walking around begging for more.."

"Hey, can i take a picture of that?"

the question wasn't addressed for me, and I fought to cover my exposed pussy with my hands as I watched someone level their phone so that it was level with my private parts - but the other man had my forearms pinned down into the sand, and I could only struggle against his unyielding grip as I watched the phone's flash go off, and they took a picture of my drippy pussy against my will

"She has a great pair of tits, look at them shake when she struggles!"

"They really are something..."

the crowd around me looked at me like a museum artefact. they didnt care for my struggle or desperate cries as I begged the two men to get off of me. Nor my scream as I felt something enter my pussy - and looking down I saw the man between my with his jeans undone and cock sheathed into my body.

"That damn bikini top isn't real either, is it?"

the stranger spat onto my chest, a saliva dripping down the side of my boob before his fingers collected the fluid and rubbed the coldness over my hardened nipple, making a cry leave my throat as how merciless he was with how his hardened fingertip rubbed at my nipple as though he was trying to rub a marker pen stain - flicking my nipple from side to side and only making more blood rush to the erogenous organ that hurt from his touch

"It's paint as well!"

He spat once more, this time allowing it to land onto my face, before i felt a cock slap against my cheek and rub that saliva degradingly pver my lip, following the trace of the cock - belonging to the man who had my forearms pinned into the ground

he held both of my arms down with one hand, his other hand then wrapping around his cock and pumping it into his fist with that one hand, only slapping it onto my face every so often to hear that skin-on-skin plap that made him groan.

the sun was going down.

the day was darkening and the crowd surrounding us was only getting bigger, and through tears and screams i could see more and more hands beneath waistbands and cocks freed at the sight of such a young, vulnerable girl being pinned down and forcefucked.

which meant that even after i'd survived that assault, being fucked and humiliated by some douche and his mate - having on cum all over my tits whilst the other replenished my pussy for cum...

there was a lot more men that were going to have their way with me before i could get out of this beach and back to safety...

reminder to send rape threats and brutal messages of what you'd do to me in my inbox or messages <3

[syluss-littlecrow]

release

<Caleb x fem!reader>

where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty

a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭😭 the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡

I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.

w/c: 3.5K

Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 

The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 

And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.

His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 

You're supposed to be back already. 

Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.

Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?

He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 

Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 

His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 

The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.

“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”

You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 

“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.

You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 

Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 

Shit. He looks mad.

You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 

“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”

Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 

Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 

“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 

You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 

Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 

“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”

You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 

“I'm just bored.”

Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.

“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”

Shit. 

Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 

Caleb crosses his arms again.

“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”

You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.

Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 

He sighs. 

“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”

Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 

“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 

Something snaps in him.

“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 

He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 

Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.

“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”

You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 

“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 

“Caleb–”

He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 

Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 

Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 

Then he turns away. 

What the fuck? 

You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.

Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 

“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 

He turns to open his door for you to leave. 

“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 

He pauses in his steps. 

“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”

You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 

“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 

You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 

You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 

“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 

“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”

You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.

“No looking away.”

His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 

You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.

The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 

His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 

Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 

“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.

Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 

He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 

“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 

Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 

Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 

He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.

The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 

You take his cheeks to your palms.

“I really need you now, Caleb.”

The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 

“Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.

He playfully scoffs. 

“We both know you wouldn't.” 

Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.

He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 

He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 

“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.

He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 

“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 

“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.

“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”

He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?

He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 

In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 

You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 

“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.

“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”

That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 

He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 

You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 

“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 

He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 

“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 

“Caleb–!”

Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.

The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.

Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 

He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.

When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 

“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 

“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 

Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 

His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 

“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 

You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 

He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.

The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 

Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.

In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.

Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.

“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.

“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.

“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 

You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.

“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.

No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.

“You know I'll always give it to you.” 

The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?

You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 

The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 

What day is it now? 

Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.

Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 

He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 

Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.

For some reason, something feels funny. 

He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 

Are you even awake to realise this? 

Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 

He watches your breathing steadily. 

He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.

His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 

“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 

“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 

You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.

“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 

More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 

“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 

Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 

He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 

Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.

Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.

“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.

He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 

You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  

Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 

And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 

You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 

No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 

The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 

6 missed calls. 

You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.

He doesn't need to know.

He doesn't need to remember.

At least, not when he's with you. 

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[trianglegoddess]

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

[mangostarjam]

you've been touching him a lot since he got back.

itoshi sae doesn't do anything about it — doesn't dissuade you from tugging at his sleeve or sliding his jacket zipper back and forth while you talk. doesn't comment or bring your attention to it.

but he watches.

you've been around him a lot since his plane landed, making up for all the time he's spent abroad, as if your daily chat threads haven't been enough. most of the time it's just the two of you, the way it used to be. sometimes his brother is around, though thankfully it doesn't seem like you've gotten any closer to rin since sae left.

other times there's a group, mostly your friends, a mix of guys and girls who don't seem to know what to do with themselves around him. sae is used to this — fame brings strange things to light — but you treat him as you always have, except for the touching.

you don't touch anyone else.

it makes him think.

sae has his reasons. he's never let your relationship get past that line, drawn in the sand. he's a professional football player on the other side of the world, and you have a life here. you have friends (even though you still call him your best friend), you have a job (that you complain about all the time), you have family (that can't be bothered to ever congratulate you on anything).

it wouldn't be right — to make you leave. to take you away. not when he needs to focus on being the best in the world.

(he is the best in the world. all those years ago he showed the U-20 team in japan the difference between them, the way the most they could hope for was dating a gravure model. sae never cared about that aspect. he already had you.)

he lets you touch him, but he doesn't touch you back. he keeps you at arm's length — where you're safe.

and then you ask him to be your wingman.

someone else — touching you? kissing you? having you? unthinkable. sae steps out of the shower and barely dries off before pulling on his briefs and pants. steps into his room and there you are, sitting on his bed, looking good, if a little sad.

he considers telling you to get your passport updated and catches the way your eyes trail down his form. maybe this conversation would be easier if he's wearing a shirt — your gaze is too heated, too distracting. you probably think you're being sneaky, hiding your feelings as best as you can, but sae knows you.

and your casual touches are ocean waves washing that line in the sand away.

sae walks towards his closet when it happens again. your finger in his belt loop, stopping him in his tracks. "what?"

"you were ignoring me," you say. "i asked if my outfit is okay."

your outfit is more than okay. "i would have told you to change if it wasn't."

"if you're going to be my wingman, shouldn't you hype me up?" you huff.

sae feels his jaw clench at the reminder. "no," he says, and his tone comes out cold. you don't seem to notice, falling back on his bed and testing every bit of self control in his grasp. "this is a waste of time."

he goes to pull on a shirt before he does something drastic. you're saying something, but it hardly matters when his flight leaves if you'll be on the plane with him. you've covered your eyes with your forearm, so you miss the way he pauses at the foot of the bed, teal eyes drinking in your form splayed out so defenselessly.

sae climbs over you silently, knees nudging yours apart, hands planted on either side of your body. "this is a waste of time," he repeats, watching with amusement as you take in his position. a blush sweeps across your face, but you don't push him off. that's a good sign, at least.

"what, you think i'm not worth being a wingman for?" you ask. silly. you have no idea.

and then you reach for his belt loops again, as if that's a totally normal thing to do and not something that drives him a little nuts every time. sae prides himself on his control, though, so he doesn't lean down to kiss you just yet.

"tell me," sae says, "have you become this touchy with all your friends since i've been gone?"

"n-no?"

it's cute, how wide your eyes get. sae leans down a little closer. feels your breaths on his lips. still doesn't kiss you — yet. "then i won't be your wingman. you don't need one."

"why not?"

do you know how breathless you sound? sae considers his apartment in spain, how he'll need to make sure the bedroom doesn't share any walls with the neighbors. the way you sound is all for him and him alone.

"because you have a boyfriend, now."

(companion piece to this)

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[valalice]

৻ꪆ caught in the act.

cw. smut nsfw. fem!reader. older gf!cait universe. age gap (10 or more years). both reader and cait are consenting adults. moder au. ceo!caitlyn. pillow humping. dom!cait if you squint. allusion to further smut.

your hips ferociously rock along the satin of caitlyn’s pillowcase, tainting it with your slick. fisting the material in your hands, gripping it so tight your knuckles turn stark white. thoughts and images of your girlfriend flooding your mind, the only thing that's been on your mind all day. wishing it was her you were grinding on, it should be her, you think.

cursing her for being so dutiful, so responsible for taking time out of her weekend, the weekend she's supposed to be sharing with you, to attend some important matters at her office that only she could take care of apparently.

you also curse her for putting a spell on you, some super secret spell she probably cast over you on one of the many nights you've fallen asleep next her. one that makes it so incredibly hard to cum when she's not around. it's pathetic. rubbing your swollen bud against the silky material for who knows how long, you're so close to your release yet so far. no amount of tweaking your erect nipples or stuffing your face in the shirt you once had on, one of her’s that smelt like her, does the trick to make the coil in your tummy snap.

huffing you release the pillow from your grasp, placing your hands on your tits to knead at them.

“cait—” you mewl, shutting your eyes tight, once again imagine that it’s cait’s skillful hands kneading at your soft flesh.

“missed me?”

you almost missed the sound of caitlyn’s voice, thinking you're just lost within your own imagination, so high on delusion that you can almost hear her voice.

“darling?”

the nickname rings alarm bells off within your head. the desperate grind of your hips stop, hands releasing your tits and falling into your lap, you reluctantly peel open your eyes, turning your head towards the door. gasping, you blink hard. lo’ and behold your girlfriend stands tall against the doorframe, leaning against it with her arms crossed. you stare wide at her, feeling much like a deer caught in headlights, understanding the bright intrusion of lights on them, but instead it’s caitlyn’s hard gaze on you, suddenly feeling very shy.

“you're home!” you enthuse, trying your best to seem as normal as you can be in this predicament. "everything went okay at the office?"

“didn’t have much to help finish up with,” she lifts herself from off the doorframe, arms uncrossing to swing at her side as she walks over to you. “like i told you before i left.” her tone laced with dissatisfaction.

“how— how long were you standing there for?” you quiz, craning your neck to look behind you where cait now stands.

she looks at you for a second before turning her attention back to observing over your bare body. “just a few minutes,” you flush at her answer, turning your head back around, bowing it to your hands in your lap. your index fingers picking at your thumbs, anticipating whatever caitlyn is going to do. shivering at the feel of a cold slender finger tracing down your spine, just to swiftly come from your skin as it nears your tailbone. “was going to watch longer, see if you could make yourself cum. but, that was silly of me to assume you could get off on your own, we both know you can't cum when i’m not around.”

oh, that stung. you accepted it's true, but heat still rushes through you from embarrassment.

“cait—”

“is that my pillow?” she cuts you off, inspected the cushion your sitting on.

“i can explain—”

“tsk.” she cuts you off again, corking her head to the side, shaking her head. “naughty, naughty girl.”

there's a shift behind you, turning your head back around to watch as within a few short clicks of her heels cait now towers in front of you, leaning down face to face. her hands balancing her weight onto your spread thighs. “and what do naughty girls get?” there's a fiery swirl in her icy eyes, similar to when a predator has caught its prey in a vulnerable position.

“punishments.”