#and the cage of bone thing is just what the thing is

[wandixx]

"There is only so much you can for the dead" part 2

continuation to this, I should probably make an original title at some point

trigger warnings: graphic describtion of Danny's death

Moments of blissed, deadly stillness felt unfairly short. It was less than blink of an eye, less than a drop of darkness after he asked Team for the last time to leave and before he woke up, in exactly same state that he was when portal spat him out. He could barely perceive his limbs, and what he could, was consumed by agonising pain.

Fuck, he hated Death Days. Absolutely horrible experience.

His nerves were on fire, electricity dancing and burning across them. His veins and lungs and nostrils and ears and stomach and eyes and mouth and every little crevice of his body was filled with ectoplasm, like liquid fire and evaporated ice, drowning him at every attempted breath. He was crushed by an unimaginable weight, at the same time as his body exploded. He was just coherent enough to feel his bones breaking, cells bursting, his very molecules being rearranged and destroyed and rebuilt but not coherent enough to tell if his scream was anything louder than a whimper.

He was in the middle of the crowd that screamed louder than he could handle, as if every person who ever got to Ghost Zone used this exact moment to let out all of their anguish, hands dragging and pulling and squeezing and brushing at every inch of his skin. He was alone like no one was ever before, in silence that was deafening. He could be stomped to death any second without anyone turning his head, and so separate from everything that he could be only existing being.

He couldn’t help but wait for Death, merciless and brutal, whose twisted children invaded his bed time stories since he could understood words, whose corrupted children he was taught to hate. She was hideous and horrifying, but against everything, she was familiar and he wanted, needed, to see one intimate face in the situation that was so wrong, wrong, wrong. He waited for her to rip his last breath away so everything would stop.

If he had a scrap of himself that could feel worse, it’d cry when he felt her getting away from him, slipping between the fingers that were both tense and limp, impossible to control but possible to feel, broken and twitching. She was getting away but pain wasn’t lessening, maybe even getting worse, to the point where it was only thing that filled his brain.

And then it all stopped. No pain, not even any left over typical to how injuries worked, just a moment of weird pressure against his palm (just like the button), that soon stopped too.

He was in his human form, but in the hazmat he wore just before the accident. Something was wrong about it all. Something in his body made it feel like not his. Something in his chest was too light and too quiet and some intrusive thought made him want to claw on his rib cage until he ripped it open and realized what was missing.

Breathing seemed to easy, enough that he got lightheaded. It got a lot harder when he realized.

He couldn’t feel his core.

Before he managed to come to terms with that, there was a gentle pressure on his hand again.

And the pain returned.

*-*-*

Danny didn't wake up abruptly, with a choked scream and phantom burns. He also didn't wake up slowly, not in the nice, relaxed way at least, when the line between dream and reality is blurred beyond recognition. He woke up in pain, feeling like he wasn't even sleeping before, just… somewhere else while his body was destroying itself again for what felt like decades.

It took some effort to connect with his body after he woke up. To be able to move even a finger. Even longer, to open his eyes. Actual ages to sit up without urge to scream.

After seeing the absolute wreckage of the room, he kinda wished it took him longer. It looked like a warzone. Electrical burns on the walls and ceiling, random puddles of bubbling ectoplasm eating away anything they touched like an acid, and what little stuff there was before, was almost all broken beyond recognition, either by whatever force was doing its thing during his death day show or ecto. When he looked at it a bit more, it seemed to go in spiral around him.

It was kinda sad that the cookies went to waste like that. He was curious who brought them in though.

Thank fucking Ancients that Team listened to him and nobody was there when the whole mess was going down. They would probably join him on the other side of the veil otherwise.

He saw it all only because of his ghost enhanced in dark vision (thank Ancients he stayed in the ghost form) because apparently his Death Day shorted out both main electrical circuit and the emergency one. Thankfully, according to his ears, it only reached this and rooms next to him, instead of the whole Mountain.

Fuck. He really hoped Robin gave him some sort of back-up back-up room because otherwise he was dead. Or well, dead-er.

He rolled out of the bed, barely catching himself from smacking on the floor like a sack of potatoes. Though some would argue he didn’t catch himself if only his face didn’t fall to the floor like the sack of potatoes.

Only then he caught sight of big, ecto-green circle that embed itself into the wall right over the bed. It had familiar vibes. Really familiar…

He had to tell the Team about it yesterday.

*-*-*

M'gann was sitting on the needles, just like everyone else. Sure, Phantom asked them to forget about him and essentially ignore whatever was happening to him, but there was no way they'd actually be able to do it. Case in point, first time alarms about shorting out of the electrical circuit in the room. They run there so fast that they had door open to see what was wrong before the absolute onslaught of electricity and ectoplasm and something else turned off the alarms thirty seconds later. Truth be told, they couldn’t do much, not without risking becoming second ghostly member of the Team, they’ve been there and ready. Conner tried to come in anyway, with his invulnerability and such, but they had to drag him out when despite extensive dodging he got hit five times by the time he got two steps into the room. Also, there wasn’t really anything he could do to help.

So they just spent last almost twenty hours alternating between different things to keep themselves occupied enough to not fall asleep and distract themselves from quilt but not enough to not be able to drop it at the moments notice if it was needed. First plan was to nap in shifts if it was necessary but it quickly became apparent that sleep was impossible with how worried everyone was and when M'gann proposed to just shut down their brains with her powers, everyone got really defensive. Well, no was no. So they just sat, at the moment in awkward silence because every topic that wasn't Phantom felt too inane and every topic that was Phantom felt too… just no. No name for why, just no.

M'gann was about to get up to make another batch of peanut butter and oatmeal snacks that took few minutes to make and could be dropped at any second, when Conner practically jumped in his seat, tilting his head to hear better. Robin perked up from whatever he was doing on his wrist computer at the same time.

"Phantom left the room!” they exclaimed at the same time, jumping out of their seats.

This head start didn’t matter by the time everyone ran or flew out to the corridor, racing against clock to the room where they left Phantom. It didn’t seems so before, but now M’gann just cursed their past selves for not waiting somewhere closer. There wasn’t really any place where they could stay instead, unless they set camp right outside his door, but it still. They should be there five minutes ago, like Wally, who obviously run off.

They heard Wally speaking before they’ve seen him.

“Hey, hey calm down. It’s fine, they’ll be there in a second, just chill. They’re right after me, whatever happened, we’ll help you in just a moment, you don’t have to run. You’re barely standing. Phantom, calm down”

M’gann barely made it around the corner and she thought she had seen Kaldur actually smacking into the wall. He brushed it off.

Phantom looked beyond rough. It seemed like Wally, who had ghost’s arm across his shoulders, was only thing holding him up. His feet were firmly on the ground, not in his usual way, when he looked just a breeze away from flying, but in this fully human way, which was unsettling. His face was gray instead of his usual almost tan, eyes wide and terrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, not looking at anyone in particular “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

“Phantom, it’s fine. It’s fine, we know about the room, it’s fine,” Robin said, trying to placate him. It didn’t quite work. Ghost was on the verge of hyperventilating, which was a bit weird to see on someone for who breathing was voluntary.

“It’s not about room”

“I’m sure it’s fine anyway”

“It’s anything but. I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and tell us what happened if you’re so sure we will be pissed”

“Artemis!”

“Portal”

“What about it?”

“Portal is what killed me.”

M’gann didn’t like how the whole situation looked before, but it suddenly became much worse.

“My Death Day made another one”

[yeonmuse]

WHICH FLOOR? | Day 14

PAIRING vocalist & drummer mingi x stranger reader

WORD COUNT | 1.4k

GENRE Smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY two complete strangers meet in an elevator, how could this possibly escalate?

MORE | Day 14 of the Groupie Love Series

You were completely fucking exhausted, a night of concerts, drinking and afterparties had you completeky beat. You were more than happy the moment you stepped into the elevator of your hotel. As you close your eyes for a moment of rest, and lie your head against the elevator wall you could sense the presence of someone else stepping onto the elevator. It's when you hear the doors close and you feel the movement of the elevator that you open your eyes and they land on him who had already been staring at you.

That someone was none other than song mingi, one of the hottest drummers to ever grace the stage. The very drummer that you had just seen perforning hours ago.

“Which floor?”

“Hm?” You had been a little too busy checking him out to even register a thing that he had been saying. Of course it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You didn’t press anything, what floor are you on?”

“15.” You respond dryly, trying to brush off the fact that you wanted absolutely nothing more than to jump his bones right now. As he pressed the number to you he seemed to observe you for a moment.

“You look like you had a fun night.”

“Do i?”

“Mm looks like it to me, otherwise it's just a waste of an outfit.” He responds, drinking you in from head to toe.

“Mm i wouldn’t call your concert and street party a waste, thanks to your band i had a good time.”

“Oh? Too bad I didn’t see you there, I think I could have elevated your time a little more.”

“Is that right? Even with all your groupies lined up at your door?”

“Kinda disappointing that you yourself weren’t one of them” It was like he was challenging you to bite back, and one thing about you you never backed down from a challenge.

“Mm sorry but I prefer your lead guitarist, though I am truly flattered.” He chuckles at your response and Before you had known it he had stopped the elevator and caged you between himself and the wall.

“I’m sure with a little alone time I can change your mind.” He gave you no time to resist, not that you would anyways, the way your fingers tangled in his hair almost instantaneously gave him all the confirmation he needed.

He wasted no time tearing off your clothes and lifting you against the wall before going between your thighs. He eyed your every reaction as he slid his tongue through your folds, his eyes flickering with a desperate hunger as he became overwhelmed with the heat of your body and the sweet sounds that left your lips. As your eyes met his and you spotted that cocky smirk on his lips, part of you wanted to pull away. To not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had you feeling quite weak. With a soft chuckle he immediately pulled his face from between your legs and licked his lips. He could tell you were struggling with your desires along with your urge to spite him. He knew very well you were annoyed with how confident he was in the way he could make you crumble, you knew he must have done this countless times with countless women but honestly you couldn’t care less.

“Still thinking about hongjoong?” a devilish smirk covered his lips and as he leaned down to slide his tongue over your thigh he felt your body jerk beneath him. His long tongue slipped between your folds as he eyed you continue to struggle with your thoughts. You couldn’t believe that even when he had you in such a compromising position he was bringing up his band mate.

“Go on angel, tell me how much you like him yeah? Is he your favorite sweetheart?” Before you could manage even one word his lips wrapped around your lips and he began to suck at your clit. This earned a frustrated moan from you, when he treated your body in such ways there was no way you’d let out any words that were remotely coherent.

“I’m waiting doll, let me hear it.” His tongue began to lap at your folds like he was hungry for it. his nails digging into your thighs with every whine or moan of pleasure that spilled from your lips. It made him hungrier for it, hungrier to hear you crying and begging beneath him.

When he was met with continued silence he removed his lips from your soaked cunt to kiss along your thighs. His teeth grazed the skin of your inner thighs earning a whimper on your part. A whimper that didn’t go unnoticed by him caused him to do it again. His eyes remained trained on your face as he continued to tease your body with his teeth and tongue alone. He felt your grip on his hair tighten

"Quit playing with me and just fuck me already, you’re going to do it whether I like him or not right?.'' You could practically feel the smirk on his lips against your thigh.

“I’ll make sure to train you well enough that any time you even look at him you’ll only think about the way I fucked you in this elevator.”

“He’s certainly hard to forget-” before you could even finish you felt him push past your entrance stretching you out until he fully bottomed out inside you. Your tightness earned a low growl from him as he pushed so deep you could have sworn you felt him hit the top of your stomach

“Go on, finish your sentence doll.” He continued to jerk his hips up into you knowing that if he kept at it you wouldn’t be able to say a word.

He watched the blissed out look on your face with every little thrust inside you.

“Funny, the moment you get stuffed like a pretty little cocksleeve you immediately go mute.” A chuckle spilled past his lips and he immediately spread your legs wider and pushed your thighs back against your chest. Your moans were evident enough that whatever pain you felt if any had gone away. He wasted no time fucking into you, rough and feverish thrusts from the very beginning. Thrusts that caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head so hard you saw stars.

Your nails dug into the only available surface they could latch onto; his shoulders. He watched as your mouth fell open, lines of saliva dripping down your chin as gargled moans spilled past your lips.

“Fuck.” The sound of your desperate cries and stifled moans spilling from your lips was like heaven. He immediately leans down to take your nipple between his lips while his other hand fondles your breasts. The pleasure had been overwhelming your bodies in ways you hadn’t thought to be possible. From the flicking of his tongue against your breasts every time he thrusted in to you feeling like the more he fucked the deeper into your stomach his cock seemed to push.

“Look at you pretty girl, you like him so much yet here you are taking my dick like some sort of cockslut, do you think he’d still fuck you if he knew his bandmate got to you first?” Your thoughts had been so cloudy that you could barely even make out anything he had been talking to you about.

“I bet you’d like to get tossed around by us right? You don’t really have a favorite do you? Such a pretty little whore gonna cum all over my cock, all while thinking about how all of us could use you.” He immediately rested one hand on your waist while resting the other on your stomach and pushing down. He wanted to feel just how far his cock could go inside your little frame. This action was all it took to push you over the edge, the moment he pushed down upon your stomach your legs shook and it was a glorious sight for him to see you squirt upon the impact of his hand. Your legs shook violently as his thrusts grew in speed and the low growls that spilled from his mouth made it all more easy for you to unravel right then and there, your cum spilling out onto his cock along with the desk in mere seconds. Mingi wasnt too far behind as the fucked out look on your face and the way your tight cunt clenched around him was all he needed for him to spill his load into you.

“Tomorrow.” He tilts your head up and brushes his thumb over your swollen lips.

“I check out tomorrow, be ready to go by 8 o'clock. The others wouldn’t mind if you tagged along for the rest of the tour.”

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about my Mountain interpretation......

Queued post don't kill me.

He was the tallest even when just a young kit, towering over the others but they never minded. Even as he became an adult, looking down at his fathers with a smile and a tail wag. He loved visiting the freshwater ghouls a lot, peeking his head down into the water and seeing their pretty glows. Anytime a trade was needed with them, Mountain always volunteered

Mountain is the only child of his two fathers, and has always been a rowdy lil thing. Growling and hissing, but quiet at the most oddest of times. He was always treated kindly, and in return he treated others kindly too.

He grew up to be an exceptional hunter for their pack, always able to hide himself within the trees and stalk before pouncing. He was very ritualistic with his killings, just as the other earth ghouls were, but adored their bones. Making skulls into wreaths, rib cages as pot holders and drying racks, thin bones for curtains and warning sigils of their territory.

One day, he left, and returned to ashes.

Corpses in their once happy home, trees still ablaze, crops destroyed. His parents, aunts, uncles, cousins... All mauled and burnt. He cried and cried, looking around at the carnage and doing his best to stop the fires before the waters he left not too long ago was alerted by the smoke and flames growing higher.

The leaders of the water ghouls stayed with him, helping clean what they could and staying for the mass burials. Mountain was someone kind to their packs, and they hurt for him. Promised they'd stay as long as he needed.

His summoning, just like the others, was unexpected. Patrolling the shoreline when his chest started hurting, doubling over and nails digging into his own fur. Trying to fight whatever it was and hearing the waters desperate concern as they surfaced. How he yelled and woke up in piles of dirt, stomping out and immediately clocking others around.

He ended up moving himself more near the treeline so he was near the water tribes, making himself a small den beneath the earth to stay content. He quickly became pescitarian with them and a part of many packs in return; he protected them from others that may wish harm.

So many nights he'd fight off starving ghouls who tried going near eggs that were laid, or when a siren seduction became too... Rough. He'd intervene. He was their safe space and he loved the waters so, so much... He's mated with a few of them, just being cuddled with a few mates every night. Mountain was never alone, and he felt peace for the first time in a while since his original packs death.

Mountain got violent QUICK. Snarling, snapping his jaw, ready to kill and maul. All it took was this tiny little water ghoul, a freshwater just like from home, to step into his vision and sweet talk him into calming down.

As of late, he's very calmed and quiet, an observer that waits until he approaches. He's still extremely family and mate oriented, focused. Finds himself by the lake or natural small waterfalls in the woods a lot, thinking of his packs in the pits. Wonders if they're safe, if those he loved were still alive — more importantly, if they'd all be proud of him.

Would his fathers?

Mountain is still protective, but he's taken the role of a silent guardian. Earth ghouls by nature don't attack unless provoked or feel threatened, that goes for any mates or family. Usually just a stare and how much Mountain towers over everyone stops a situation, but that's not to say he won't quickly become that violent ghoul he used to be.

From time to time, he'll purposely hunt just for the bones. Mainly for courting gifts or comfort! He'll make use of all that's offered, the pelt, the meat, but what lays beneath is his.

The pack all have their own bone art he's made for them, displayed and sensitive. But something so very loving. Yes! Even Copia! He's so loving and so forgiving, but never forgetful.

[whosmoraless]

Miles's heart clenches painfully in his chest, a wave of anger relief pain longing guilt washing over him. Her anger is only natural, she's worried, but still.... he can't really understand it.

Why is she here? There's no reason for her to be. Why is she worried about me? Why would she even care? After all the bullshit that's happened between us...

He wants to insist that no, she isn't where she should be, but there's simply no energy left to argue. Even just staying awake is a monumental task.

Where doesn't it hurt? His breathing is ragged, each breath a caged animal pounding itself against a too-small cage until it rattles. His head is pounding, his body is throbbing, and the cold air pierces through his torn suit into his very bones.

But what really, really hurts is the mere fact that that yes, that's Gwen in front of him. Not an angel, not a ghost, it really is her.

He can't bring himself to look at her face.

All at once, that clusterfuck of too-complicated feelings seems to dislodge itself from his body, like a connective tendon got ripped out of a piece of meat. Miles lets his body slump in defeat; his head making a dull thunk sound against the cement.

He's tired. So very much so. From things other than the immediate fight.

"Everything. Every-thing hurts," he barely managed to wheeze; the admittance as painful as the mere act of speaking is. "Just... g- go. Please."

you ever find urself face-down in an alley at like 2am nd you realize, "oh, this might be how i die". every hope and dream ive ever had and everythng ive ever wanted to do and could ever do is all gnna be snuffed. oit right here in some rsndom street on a sunday night while im wearing fuckifjn spandex. and i have school tomrro1w but maybe i wont.

❆ · ( open starter ) · ❆

With a groan, Miles lets his phone fall out of his hand; it somehow being the only thing on him that didn't get broken.

Maybe he's being overdramatic. He doesn't care. Doesn't... really care about much at all, actually. Shock makes you do crazy shit-- like make a vaguely concerning Tumblr post after a bungled patrol then immediately shut his phone off rather than call for help.

Not like he could feasibly do the latter anyways. Last thing he wants is for Spider-man to have a medical record, much less at his mom's hospital. Would the bite have messed with his body enough that he couldn't go through normal medical procedures?

... besides, if Spider-man has to call for help, that doesn't make him much of a protector, huh?

What kind of a protector, a good one at that, gets his ass beaten within an inch of his life on what was supposed to a normal, routine patrol? Crawls away to a random back alley to lick his wounds alone? If anyone saw him like this, he'd never live it down-- assuming he were still alive to see the headline anyways.

Fluffy snowflakes start falling, ever so daintily landing on Miles's overheated body, on his eyelashes. (huh. When did his mask lenses get shattered?) They contrast with the night sky like stars. The city noises turn into a hazy blur, like it's all a million miles away. The cars, a dog barking, the faint background buzz of electrical wires.

Not a bad place to die, Miles thinks with startling calmness.

He didn't expect what he believes is the end of his life to be so.... calm. Atmospheric, almost. Not like he's complaining though; too out of it to be worried. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier. His thoughts slow to what feels like sludge.

He doesn't register the crunch of shoes on pavement approaching him.

[toastedseavegetable]

brain space, bone space

[featherymainffins]

Really feeling Your Body Is A Graveyard today ngl

[thehappyvet]

Just a reminder if you decide to illegally take a wild animal from the wild for yourself, even if you have the best interests at heart, you could be killing it.

If you feed it the wrong diet you can cause it's bones to break or other diseases associated with mineral imbalances. If you feed it too much you could cause issues associated with obesity including excessive fat stores.

If you aren't a trained wildlife rehabilitator you won't understand the importance of preventing imprinting or humanising. So you'll cuddle it, play with it, and let your pets play with it. So it will think it can only get food from humans, and that humans and domestic pets are part of its family.

If you take it while it's still young it won't learn the necessary foraging and social skills from its parents to survive in the wild. You might joke you don't even need a cage for it, but it isn't able to go anywhere because you've made it dependant on you.

If you aren't a wildlife carer or in the animal health industry you might not realise it's injured and needs treatment. This could lead to broken bones setting in ways that the animal can't perform normal functions and suffering from a life of chronic pain. Or it could lead to it suffering a slow and agonising death.

You might also not be aware that wildlife can contain diseases that can make you sick or even kill you. You could put yourself and your loved ones at risk of serious zoonotic diseases by bringing it home.

And, if you are found to be illegally holding a wild animal without the intention of rehabilitating and releasing it, the authorities are stuck. They can't release the animal because it thinks humans and domestic pets are friends. It can't forage for itself. It can't socialise with its own kind. It could have injuries or diet associated diseases that mean it can't perform normal functions, or is suffering from chronic pain. If they released it, it would die.

Is it fair for that animal that your choices have led to it not being able to experience its life in the wild as it should?

If you take something from the wild and intend to keep it, I hope this makes you think twice.

These kinds of stories are all over social media now, but none of them tell this side. They normalise putting a wild animal though an incredibly stressful experience purely for likes and engagement.

If you want to be a hero, get accredited to be a wildlife rehabilitator. Join an amazing network of compassionate humans just like you who understand that wild things should be wild, and do everything they can to get them back there.

If you find a wild animal and you're not sure what to do, call your local veterinary clinic or wildlife rehabilitation group. Trust that we have the knowledge to make the best choices for that animal. And if you want to make those choices, join us.

[roscolate]

OH MY GOD??!!

‘KP got the least votes, which means he suffers the least’

Me:

TW: Eyestrain / Choking / Torture / Burning

ACT 1

ACT 2 - 1 <<< 37 / 🔥 / ?

How are you guys doing so far? Good. Good. But WAIT! It gets EVEN BETTER!

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[chobunz]

── desperation. ( psh ) 📠

pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k

imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..

this is my very first ever post on enhablr !

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.

“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”

sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)

you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.

hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.

“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.

“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.

as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.

though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.

“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.

“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.

“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.

you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.

you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?

“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.

“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.

“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.

taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.

his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.

sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.

“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.

he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.

“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.

your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.

“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.

“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.

“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.

the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.

sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.

“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.

you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”

“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.

“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.

“yeah, you do actually.”

“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.

“a real date.”

“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.

“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.

you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.

[blvdheart]

what, too big, sweet thing?

cw: mdni, fem!reader, drabble, size difference, breeding kink, mention of birth control, aftercare

note: he could crush me. not that he would because he’s a sweetheart, but omg pleaseee i wanna be lovingly smushed by him ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀི i cannot describe the positions well, hope you guys understand

umm anyways, yes <3 thinking about how bulky he is.

him kneeling back on the heels of his feet and shoving his cock inside you while you straddle his hips, one of his hands splayed against the plush of your ass while his other arm is slung around the small of your back, keeping your back arched so you’re pressed against him all nice and snug.

you reach back to hold onto one of his hairy forearms—the one whose hand is fondling your ass. your nails leave indents on his skin, the slight tinge of sharp pain only making him slow down his pace so he can focus more on deep thrusts and making sure he buries himself to the hilt, until his balls are pressed up against your bottom.

or when he’s prone boning you, rutting into you from behind and making the mattress shake. your hands clawing at the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white. it’s only natural to need to clutch onto something when a hunk of a man is making your vision all blurry and rearranging your insides. right?

“leon…so big…fuck.” your sentences are all chopped up and spoken through high-pitched gasps, all you can do is say whatever words come to mind first.

“i know, i know i’m big. feels good, doesn’t it? you love this dick?”

geez, what a bastard. you nod eagerly.

one of his hands leaves the side of your hip, instead reaching over to slide his hand on top of yours. massive, of course, his fingers spread yours apart to accommodate the size of his. and god, you’re sure your fingers can’t spread anymore than that.

or hello? when he has you in a mating press, murmuring false promises of getting you pregnant against the shell of your ear. “c’mon sweet girl, you’d look so pretty with your stomach all swollen. what do you think?”

yours hands settle on his biceps, squeezing the built up muscles. so beefy. the headboard is slamming against the wall so aggressively you’re scared the wood will chip and break. okay, actually, no you’re not. you’re not even worried about that. you have better things to be concerned about, like whether leon is going to break you in half or not.

leon’s very aware of how big he is compared to you, even with his mind all clouded with thoughts of how good your cunt is and how much he wants to make you gush around his cock, he still manages to keep some rationality and keeps some of his weight off of you.

“mhm, want it. wanna get knocked up by you.” you whine in response, acting as if you weren’t on birth control and way too fucking unprepared for such a thing. not a problem, a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

it’s always so cute to him when you cum, the way your entire body writhes around while he cages you in entirely, the way you babble his name out endlessly, and he has to kiss you to shut you up. “so noisy.”

he always takes care of you afterwards. cleaning you up, massaging your entire body because yeah, being manhandled into different positions as if you’re a soft pretzel is taxing!

“here?” he asks, his hands on your hips, kneading away the discomfort that had built there. you’re just glad you didn’t get a cramp while he was fucking you.

he can’t help but laugh a bit (a lot) when you try to get up and your knees buckle. what an ass. but he’s also nice, so he carries you to whatever destination you desire until you tell him you’re completely okay.

[hurlingdown]

CUNNILINGUS — ft. ftm!character. dom!reader.

imagine taking your sweet, sweet time savouring him. 

pressing your lips to toughened, scarred skin, puckering them lightly to let out soft muahs, letting him know just how much you appreciate him. making him squirm, face and chest glowing, so embarrassed by how delicate you’re treating him but at the same time not being able to look away. 

your gaze isn’t hungry, no. it’s a different sort of heavy intensity that’s residing within, speaking to him, drumming on his heart, making the space inside his ribs feel small and cramped. it’s almost like you’re in love with him, but this is just one of the many things that he wants… so much, too much, but knows no god out there would grant the wish of a devil. 

there’s no rush at all when you kiss your way down his stomach and navel until you’re snug between his thighs, pressing your cheek against one of them. he doesn’t ask what you’re looking at, knows exactly how much he’s leaking for you, and he clenches his hole to make it drool a little more. 

you smile when a hand cards through your hair, not a demand but something more tender. telling you he’s okay, you may begin when you are. 

he’s throbbing with need by the time you’re pressing open mouthed kisses on his clit, shivers of pleasure making him let out soft gasps into the open air. his hand never leaves your hair, and he’s trying his best not to tug at the strands, giving you all the freedom you deserve. he doesn’t ask for more—you already know. just lays back, and lets you make him feel good. 

we have all the time in the world, he thinks. lies to himself, because it helps soothe the ache. lets him forget a little while, the splinter in his chest. 

the first broad stroke of your tongue against him brings him back to reality. he lets go to fist his hands into the sheets, trying his best not to buck up to you. you’ve gone through this with him many times before, but he’s still afraid he’ll lose control and somehow hurt you in vulnerable moments like these. you loathe it, how he thinks of pleasure like a sin. 

“don’t hold back,” you murmur into his folds, and he lets out a shaky exhale at the sweet buzz that probes his walls. nods—yes, he will listen, even if he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. it’s you who deserves to be heard. you breathe in his earthy scent, a hand finding his clenched fist, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing; even as you begin to lick into him again, lapping up his slick and stretching him out. 

this time, and the next few times, he doesn’t stop himself. he parts his lips to let out a low moan as you pull back to suck wetly at his clit, and cringes at the noise. it ends shortly when you echo him with a loud, throaty groan into his pussy, as though his pleasure was your own. at this, he trembles with a gasp of your name, eyes widening because you were unpredictable like that. you only encourage him, free hand holding him still as you eat him out slow and meaningfully, eyes never leaving him to make sure he’s enjoying every second of it. 

after that, all hell lets loose, and he feels as though moan after moan is pulled out from bone and marrow, from the depths of his soul, the dirty places that he has tried to hide from you. it is the first time that he has realised that maybe he is allowed to feel this way. maybe he is allowed to want, and have, and not be satisfied with just ‘enough’.

“please,” he cries out, as you slurp him, feast him. he holds your hand tight as the first wave of his orgasm burns through him, the quivering flame inside roaring to life—and bursting into wildfire. 

he curses, writhes, fighting to jerk out from your grip, no longer trying to act tame and reverent. you continue to pleasure him even as buries a hand in your hair, trying to wrench you away, sobbing out pleas for mercy and for more. 

if this is what it takes to make him lose control, then you will do it. over and over again, until he breaks out of that hollow shell, the one that cages him in with his quiet self-destruction, away from release and pleasure. until he learns that being with you is supposed to feel good.  masterlist!

[hybbart]

Day 2506: The world almost ends...

Short story below

The last thing Tango could recall was laying on the ground in a warm pool of his own blood, staring up at a sea of faces gnashing their teeth and claws into his limbs.

And thinking, none of you are Jimmy.

Then everything burned away into darkness.

Yet the world did not end.

It reformed itself a pool of indiscernible reds, an incomplete, deafening whisper, and a biting stench.

A barrier draped itself out over it all. The first shape to ever form, outstretched to block out the colours and sounds and smells. The first feeling accompanied it, something soft and structured, dragging the whole world back down.

And Tango thought for the first time, and he thought, that is Jimmy.

The world was swallowed once more, in its infancy before anything could take form. So, it tried again.

This time it created more than just red. Blacks, blues, greens. Yellow. Tango reached out for it, but had no body with which to do so. Trapped by nothing. There were sounds but they were somewhere else where he wasn’t. Skin he did not have itched and burned. If he could only exist enough to reach, but what little there was soon slipped away. The first, last, and only thing this Tango knew was despair.

So, it tried again.

In this one Tango had a body, he knew, but it was a cage. Cold, stiff, unyielding to him rattling it, begging for freedom. He still couldn’t reach Jimmy, only a shadow in the pool. He screamed, but it made no sound, and he went unseen.

So, it tried again.

Everything burned. Not an inch of his cage went unbitten. If he could he would tear it all off. This time Jimmy heard him, but it did Tango little good. There were too many sounds, too many smells, and they all ripped him apart until there was nothing left.

So, it tried again.

And again, and again, and again.

Until finally the world began to settle into place.

Tango peeled open his eyes, staring up at the clouds, body numb and heavy from the pain. It was like his muscles had turned into snakes biting each other every time he moved, but he could move. He could feel, and think, and hear the nearby sound of bird song.

He tried calling out for Jimmy, voice like shards of glass to his throat and ears. It was good enough. There Jimmy was, leaned over him, blocking out the sun. Though it still burned to do so Tango could feel the weight of a hand on his own. He wished he could assure Jimmy that he was fine.

Jimmy watched him silently. Tango reached out for him again, tears in his eyes. “Jimmy.” He croaked, trying to beckon the avian forward. But he would not move. Tango began to sob. “You’re here. You’re here.”

He opened his mouth. It was as though the whole world went silent to listen. No voice came. Nothing but a sickening crunch. Tango’s vision swam, consumed by Jimmy. Old blood poured from his mouth, drenching Tango below, around the mangled remains of beating flesh. No light filled his eyes, not the bright light of the sun or his own inner sunshine he always carried, or even the black flames consuming his wings. They were as lifeless as the dried mould clinging to his jaw bone and the grey of his cheek.

Tango couldn’t scream.

His own heart wrenched him awake. The rest of him delayed, eyes darting and muscles cramping. Something was squeezing his left arm to death until it was numb. His eyes began to sting from the light piercing right into them. A muffled voice filled the air, and a shadow cast over to block the sun.

“Are you okay?” It asked.

Tango was in too much pain to reply. The shadow stretched out far to canopy the whole sky from view. Wings. They were wings. Tango gasped, trying desperately to call out. “J-”

But his eyes adjusted soon enough, and before him was not feathers made of fall wheat and butter. These were a dusty brown, only golden in the light of the afternoon sun. The eyes that stared down upon him were a piercing sky blue and the shoulders were far too broad. New panic settled within Tango’s bones. Too much of his body hurt to run away.

“Oh, good, you’re awake this time.” He said, voice most certainly not Jimmy’s. His grin was too sharp. “I was starting to think you were just gonna kick the bucket.” The stranger shifted, grabbing something far beyond Tango’s view. “Which would be quite a shame given how much of my supplies you’ve used up.”

Some brightly coloured cylinder was held up towards his face. A water bottle, Tango’s brain finally provided after several seconds. Tango managed to move his mouth enough to accept, its straw preventing him from spilling too horridly over himself. Even still, he quickly found himself choking, sputtering up much of what made it into his mouth. The stranger hummed to himself, waiting for Tango to cease his coughing before trying again, this time one gloved hand cradling the back of Tango’s head to hold him up just slightly. The water went down much easier. Only after it was taken away did it occur to Tango it may not be the best to trust the liquid. He was already a soft breeze away from death, what did it matter?

Because you still have to find Jimmy.

The stranger yelped, but Tango ignored him as he tried to push himself up. “Hey, there!” Hands found their way to the back and front of his torso, the only thing keeping him from collapsing back down as the brief pulse of energy abandoned him. “You took at least fifteen chomps, there, buddy, you’re in no condition to be on your feet.”

Tango tried to explain himself, tried to yell at the man. But all he could get out when he said Jimmy’s name was a squeak that tore up his throat. Insufficient. Though he tried to fight back, the stranger laid him back down. Tango tried not to sob. Everything hurt, everything was going horridly wrong, and his rancher was probably dead in a ditch somewhere. He’d follow soon enough at this rate. It was all so pointless-

Warmth wafted through the air. Sweet and achingly familiar. Tango’s head lulled to watch the stranger as he held up a fork towards him, the fluffy pasty dotted with berries and dripping syrup. “I hope you don’t mind, but I kinda live off instant pancake mix at the moment. If you can eat.”

Tango wasn’t sure he could, but he accepted the offer anyways. Even just the smell would have brought tears to Tango’s eyes if he could cry. The bites kept coming until Tango hadn’t the strength to eat anything more. His body screamed at him to both stop and eat, desperate for the food Tango had been denying it and lacking the strength to continue, stomach rolling in that fashion that he knew meant it would all come back up if he tried.

Silence returned while the stranger finished the rest, most of it still there. Anything else might have made Tango throw up from the smell anyways. All he could think of instead was breezy summer mornings, sat at an uneven oak table covered in blemishes that they never got around to replacing, throwing plastic tablecloths over instead. Coffee that became tea that became increasingly questionable flower water that became tea once more. The distant sounds of mooing and much closer sounds of barking, and, somewhere in between, a bird song matching whatever was on the stereo.

Why had they left? They should have stayed on the ranch. He should have tried harder to convince Jimmy not to go, should have put his foot down. When that bridge came into view he should have immediately turned them back around. They saw the ocean, and what good did it do them? Jimmy died, lost and far away from home, and Tango would soon join him...

The next time Tango woke up it was early morning. Something loud had ripped him from his slumber, but he could not for the life of him recall what it was. As best he could he looked around, and found the stranger shutting a cabinet set against a far wall. Tango must have made some sort of noise, because his head immediately swivelled towards him. “You’re awake again.” He said, matter of factly. There was too much energy in his hops to a kitchen. Did all avians wake up at the crack of dawn?

It was almost hard to watch the man, actually. Tango had seen it with Grian, but it hadn’t registered. Because he was a puffball and it only seemed natural, or because he’d never had reason to note it. This strangers talons similarly rarely touched the ground, taking leaps and bounds to reach for anything. Wings casually unfurled themselves to glide him across the room. It was so different to Jimmy, who stumbled his way everywhere, only used his wings for balance.

More food was set in front of him, this time a small bowl of mixed berries. “I already ate.” Explained the stranger while he held out a spoonful. “If it’s too hard to chew I can blitz it into a smoothie.”

“No.” Tango croaked. Easier than last time, but his throat still felt like it was splintering.

The stranger quietly fed him. The sun was quickly rising, but the avian didn’t seem to have anywhere to be. At some point Tango thought he heard the bark of a dog, but no one else came into the sky-lit room. The stranger’s clothes were not the sort one wore when they knew zombies were nearby. His sweater was sleeveless and his gloves were for sport, to keep frog scratching his hands and keeping a good grip, rather than the heavy leather work gloves Jimmy wore. The sort of thing they’d wear on peaceful days at the ranch, not the city Tango thought he was last in.

“So,” The man rocked his head slightly as he put the half-empty bowl aside. “You got a name, stranger? If you’re up for talkin’ of course.”

“Tango.” His voice scratched worse than it usually did, almost incoherent to his own ears. No long sentences, then. “You?”

“Wels, at your service.” He did a small bow, smile widening. “There’s not a lot of survivors out here these days, Tango. You musta come quite a ways?”

He nodded, wincing at the sting in his neck. Had he been bitten there? “We came from the mountains.”

Wels’ eyebrow rose. His hands began moving just outside Tango’s vision, fiddling with something. “’We’, huh? Run into some bad luck?”

“I’m looking.” Tango quickly snapped. “We got separated. He’s here.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that.”

Of course he didn’t. Tango had never been the optimistic sort. It was Jimmy who comforted them when things went wrong, calmed Tango down when he lost his temper. Thought there’d be an adventure to have exploring uncharted territory. If it was Jimmy here and now instead, he’d be just as determined as day one. Tango couldn’t do that, could barely hope to even find a body. But... “If I stop looking, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

The room fell quiet. A rough hand lifted the stump of Tango’s left arm, peeling something off it. It stung, but not as much as the air did seconds later. Tango grit his teeth. It last too long, but eventually it subsided into a dull ache. Even without looking he knew it was swollen and ugly, raw from wearing his arm for too long. It would take too much time to pull on and off without help. Why was he so stupid as to design it that way? Like he’d never be alone?

The dog outside continued to bark.

“Well, then,” Wels sighed. “Guess if you gotta keep looking then I’ll have to keep my eyes open, too.”

Tango strained to shake his head, “You don’t have to-

“Hey, it’s my city. Who better to keep an eye out? Besides,” He stood up, spreading his wings wide enough to block out the skylight, “You aren’t really getting out of bed any time soon, and you can’t exactly get back down without my help anyways.”

“Down?” Tango murmured to himself, turning towards the sunlight.

His vision was still a mess, but he could see it. Behind stacks of supplies and reorganized furniture was a wall-wide glass balcony, doors wedged wide open. Peeking over the rail was the very top of a half-dozen skyscrapers he recognized from the ground.

Wels hopped over towards the open doors, grabbing various items from a table. A bag, rope, a sword- was that metal gauntlets? By the time he’d kitted out he looked like he’d raided a museum exhibit. When he noticed Tango’s staring he gave him a grin and a thumbs up. “Gotta go for a water and medicine run. Be back before the sun sets.” He jumped up onto the railing, but paused. “Say, uh, what’d your buddy look like? In case I run into him.”

“Blond.” Tango rasped. “Lanky, bit taller than you. Long yellow wings. Should be with a big black dog with no eyes. Hopefully...”

Something in the man’s wings tensed, smile falling away. “A canary avian?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“And you- how did you say you got separated.”

“He was gone when I woke up. He kept-”

“Wandering off?”

The blazeborn’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah... What-”

But Wels unfurled his wings once more, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll talk later, when I get back. You should rest up, get back on your feet.”

With that he was gone.

Tango could feel his heart hammering in his chest, wounds pulsing down his limbs. He turned his gaze up to the ceiling. How on earth was he supposed to rest after that?

[mitsouya]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

including michael kaiser, rin itoshi, and reo mikage with fem!reader

he sits beside you on the couch, engrossed in the random shows on tv. you, on the other hand, are busy reserving a table for your date at the new restaurant downtown. the sheer delight in your voice makes him glad he succeeded in emptying his tightly packed schedule for you.

[saturday night at 7 is available. would that be okay?]

a bright smile adorns your face upon hearing the employee's query. securing a table feels fortunate; it's not always easy on weekends, after all.

"alright, let me ask my husband first," you say to the phone and raising your eyebrows in silent expectation, demanding for his response.

⌗MICHAEL — the second that word comes off your lips, best believe michael is already grinning like an idiot.

him, your husband? seriously?

he never thinks too deeply about marriage—though he does want to tie the knot with you when the time's right—but he loves how endearing it sounds when you call him that. there's a mischievous glint in his sapphire eyes before he moves closer to your body.

"her husband says yes."

being the menace he is, he announces directly to the speaker, loud and clear, earning soft giggles from you.

"do you hear me? her husband—"

you cut him off and quickly apologize to the poor employee, all while suppressing the laugh that threatened to spill out of your mouth. he will tease you about this for the rest of the evening, and you will spend hours caged between his tattooed arms, listening to him yapping about his dream wedding. not that you complained.

⌗RIN — convinces himself he maintained his facade well, but the subtle dusting of red on his cheeks betrays him. he's unable to focus on the tv screen because did you really refer to him like that without warning?

realizing you're still waiting for his answer, rin fakes a cough to even his tone and mutters, "fine," loud enough for the employee on the other side to hear.

immediately shoots you a questioning glare after you hang up. he tries to act unaffected (which he fails miserably) and asks, "what was that?"

"what was what?" you playfully hum.

"you did that on purpose."

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby."

the slight pout on his lips amuses you more than you want to admit. he hides his burning face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something you can't pinpoint.

when you chuckle at his sudden clinginess, he looks up to you with those big, sparkling round eyes that remind you of his younger self. he's going to wife you up someday.

⌗REO — you know damn well reo's sickeningly in love with you, and somehow you think it's okay to casually address him as ‘my husband’? are you trying to make him explode?

the tv show is long forgotten and he's all over you in an instant, giving you a bone-crushing hug along with a sweet, dopey smile that you adore so much. you can whine and say it's just a prank, but it's too late to take it back. he already envisions the whole wedding thing.

"whatever my wifey wants," he speaks to the phone, all giddy and lovestruck. "rent the entire restaurant if you want, wifey. or buy it. or don't. actually, i'll just build you one."

before his rambling causes the employee even more confusion, you shut him up with a kiss and proceed to finish the reservation.

[imyourbratzdoll]

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[m1sa-w1sa]

hay so I was just wondering if you would do a sahsrau where all the PC's (playable characters) are obsessed with reader but when reader gets inside of hsr they are Immediately captured and sold as a slave and the PC's (maybe topaz or himko) fine the reader recognize the reader and all hell breaks lose for who idk

Also if I can can I be a emoji anon (if yes then I'll be 👹 anon)

Forgive us!

Sahsrau x Reader

Tw: Yandere themes, Mentioning ofAbuse ( not going in depth ), NOT PROOFREAD Death/Lil Describing of gore, I am aware that there might be two more mew characters, but they won’t be included becuase I don’t know them all to well at the moment!

I do not support people that think they are ‘ real yanderes ‘ or act on any of the things mentioned, if you do or think about these things please get professional help

A/N: Ty for requesting! I have a lot so they are a little slow but they are still all going to get to! And I’m happy to call you👹 Annon!

•You started playing Hsr when it first came out, you loved the designs and a characters! •But they certainly loved you back! I mean why wouldn’t they? Your just a sweetheart to them! •Kafka and Silver wolf the first ones knowing feeling your presence, hearing your soft voice complimenting them •Next, The Trailblazer, March 17, and Dan Heng knew next then Hiyoko and welt then so and so on •The characters you gotten is when they knew you were there, they KNEW you were with them •They heard your worried voice when one of them is low on health, apologizing over and over •Gepard and March 17 always try to make their shields better, Bailu and Natasha try’s to heal as much as they could, Hiyoko and welt trying to make you proud •Huohuo try’s to be more brave for you, Dr. Ratio always does harder in his studies •Serval playing her best at concerts in your honor, Clara makes sure she prays to you every day •They worshiped you like no other, every place had this one single law ‘ Don’t hurt the divine one.. ‘ •Simple, right? Wrong. When you got transferred to the game you were about to walk around, until a cloth was over your mouth •You woke up in a cage, weak, scrunched up like a dog curled in its own bed as you groaned ‘ She will make us a whole lot of money… ‘ We just can’t get caught.. ‘ ‘ You worry to much… ‘ •2 Women and one Man you heard, one of them pulling you out, throwing you at the wall as you fall down with a loud ‘THUMP!’ •They burned you, cut you, broke bones hardly fed you, blood all over your body •You were hosted at one of the prizes at a auction, Himiko and Welt was there as she looked around, her eyes spotted you, weak, legs shaking (Not what YOU think…) your body bruised, burned, painted with cuts and scratches •Welt quickly saw aswell, his eyes widened, Their grace… Abused like an object..? Slowly golden blood leaked from your forehead, you gotten more dizzy last thing you heard was a stern voice

‘ 1 Million Credits! ‘ •They took you back, not even paying the fee, but, your their god, their CREATOR, your more than just some stupid credits.. •March 17 stayed at the astral express with you, word got out about what happened… everyone was FURIOUS •Bailu, Loucha, and Natasha going to the express to try to help heal your wounds and to keep watch •Clara and Savorog keeping watch outside the room, Argenti, Archeon, Blade, Dr. Raito going to hunt the people down •Jing Yuan and Imbibitor Lunae, Figuring out the gruesomeness ways to make the people suffer •Kafka and Jingilu doing most of the dirty work, blood splattered everywhere •You woke up at so many people by your side it was overwhelming, Being able to talk to your characters made you smile, something you didn’t do in a long while •They are so sorry for not being there for your proper descent, they will do any for your forgiveness your grace