#as far as actual torso/stomach size goes

[sandflakedraws]

rlly love how tall u make hickory. man is on stilts

near as i can tell, that's jus how tall he is~!

tho i do have like. an actual height edit i did to try and figure out the height relationships with a chunk of the TBT cast.

i took this screenshot, added a standing line, and scooched people up n down until i was satisfied with it.

and it looks like, from shortest to tallest, you got Tiny diamond, Floyd, JD, Branch, Poppy & Bruce, Viva, and at last, Clay.

...

and then of course i wanted to figure out where hickory & dickory figure into the group (and more specifically at the time, who was tallest : whether clay or hickory).

so i grabbed a similar shot from World Tour -

scaled/lined it up using poppy as my reference point

and then started laughing because apparently it wasn't even close.

though it does make the height difference between the two i've got on rotation that much more stark.

the way i've been keeping track of it in my art style is to keep the top of floyd's head where hickory's shoulders start lmao.

[yongvillage]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@yongvillage | thank you for reading!

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Rivalry Put To Rest

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Arranged marriages (non of that under age like child marriages though fuck that yuck, these are obviously of age adults i just really wanna make that clear jesus), praise kink, modern AU, just lovely soft sex with my favorite man :'^).

Word Count - 2.4k

Other Comments - Dude it’s been so long since ive actually written anything im so sorry. But i couldn't resist writing this. I know i promised xiao but he will come in time. This is a little bit of a slow burn, or at least the sex doesnt start right away lol i want this to be nice and soft. P.s. youre on birth control so dont worry about no condom lol.

You did not like this idea. Why your parents were still forcing you into this was beyond you seeing as how you were a fully grown ass adult. You just couldn’t stomach the disappointment you would be seen as in their eyes. You were the daughter to the CEO of one of the most well known Law Firms in Teyvat. Zhongli was the son of another CEO who controlled your Rival company. Yours's and his parents wanted to finally settle the bad blood between the firms by having the two of you get married. You knew damn well the benefits of doing this was, god forbid if your Fathers firm went underwater, you would still be secure with Zhongli as your husband.

It’s not that you didn’t like Zhongli, and he certainly was not ugly; you just couldn’t stand your freedom to choose who you really wanted to marry being ripped from you. It was non negotiable though, so you had to go through with it. Zhongli didn’t seem to mind at all, he thoroughly enjoyed his very brief moments he had with you before, and was frankly excited to get more of those moments. He just hoped you didn’t resent him or blame him for this.

You both of course had an extravagant wedding, why would you not when your family was one of the wealthiest in Teyvat. You were grateful to your parents for letting you invite a few of your friends, and it seemed Zhongli had done the same. There was almost like a crowd formed around you two at the after party, you talking to your friends, and him with his. Zhongli had offered you his arm to hold onto, but you politely declined, feeling that even just holding his arm was too intimate for you.

“Already trouble in paradise for the two lovebirds?” One of Zhongli’s friends had chuckled, a red head with a stupidly smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you shot a look at him. Your friend Ningguang frowned, turning to look at your now husband.

“Control your dog, Mr. Zhongli.” You let out a chuckle, when you heard Zhongli’s friend scoff.

After a while, it was customary for the newlyweds to go on their honeymoon; so after a couple of hours you had to bid farewell to your friends and family. You approached the jet the two of you would be taking, with Zhongli carrying the luggage not far behind. You went ahead and boarded, while your new husband spoke with the pilot and the crew, sighing to yourself.

“Come on (y/n) suck it up, this honeymoon will be over sooner than you know it.” You mumbled to yourself, settling into the high class jet.

“Did you say something (y/n)?” You jumped, not expecting to hear Zhongli’s voice. “Ah.. My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You sighed and shook your head, waiving your hand to dismiss the apology.

“You’re fine Zhongli, I’m just… Nervous is all.” He hummed in response, nodding as he settled himself into the jet.

“I understand (y/n), I really do apologize about this being thrusted into your lap. I know this isn’t the ideal circumstances for a young woman to go through.” You nodded, glad that he understood your hesitance to the situation. Zhongli really wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s really not your fault Zhongli, I understand you probably had no more say in it than I.” You gave him a reassuring smile, the first genuine smile to grace his line of sight. Without noticing he found himself smiling back, relieved that you didn’t see him with any contempt. A comfortable silence settled, as the jet took off towards your destination.

It wasn’t a long flight, and along the way you were able to make small talk, slowly learning more about Zhongli. After two short hours, you felt the jet jump slightly against the ground before steadying itself on the runway. After a few more moments, you both departed, Zhongli once again handling the luggage, leaving your side to retrieve it.

Before you knew it, you were at the house you would be staying at for your honeymoon. It sat on a beautiful beach side shore, with a large open patio looking out over the ocean. By the time you guys had arrived it was already around 10:00 o’clock at night, so the crescent moon was high in the sky as you both stepped out onto the patio. The moon and stars gleamed against the inky black water, with the rhythmic beating of the waves lulling you both into a comfortable silence. You stood next to your husband and finally for the first time that night, actually took in his face.

The light of the scenery exposed the beauty Zhongli held in his face, the pale light bouncing off his cheekbones and illuminating his golden irises as he looked out over the sea. He must’ve felt you staring because moments later those golden eyes were locked on yours.

“Do you like the scenery (y/n)?” You gave a quick nod before ducking away from his gaze, a red flush rising to your face. You heard him chuckle for a moment before shifting.

“I know what is customary to happen on our honeymoon, and I do not want you to feel pressured to fulfill that part of our relationship.” You flushed even more as you suddenly found the pattern of the wood to be very interesting. You had completely forgot that sex was usually something people did on honeymoons. It seemed normal, because generally the people who get married have had a relationship before this so nothing felt awkward about the topic. Obviously that wasn't the case in this situation, but there was something in you that kind of wanted to. Something in you that felt comfortable enough with him to do it, you already trusted him which shocked you. What if he wasn’t though? What if he was uncomfortable with the thought of having sex with you right now which is why he brought it up so suddenly?

“Thank you Zhongli, you’re too kind. You’ve truly been so understanding through this entire thing.” You looked back up to him finally, and found a gentle smile on his face. He nodded and hummed before turning back to the house.

“We should probably get to bed, it’s already fairly late.” You nodded, pulling out your phone to check the time. You both walked about into the house together. “There is another room down the hall from the master bedroom if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed. It’s smaller so I could always take it.” There he goes, being considerate and kind; handling your thoughts and feelings like glass that would break any second. You remained silent for a moment contemplating on what he had said, before gently shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to share the bed with you.” You smiled up at him, and he looked almost surprised with your willingness, but the shock didn’t last for long before he smiled back at you and nodded; offering you his arm to hold on to, which you shakily took. You both reached the bedroom, where he had placed all of your guy's luggage before letting you go to retrieve your sleeping clothes as he did the same. You went into the bathroom, to give yourself and him some privacy before slowly re-entering. Zhongli was in a pair of brown silk pants with golden accents and a black short sleeve shirt. Your eyes met each other, and Zhongli smiled when he saw you.

“I know that these were unideal circumstances to get married, but I’m happy it is you who is my spouse. I can only hope you think the same of me, and that at some point you can genuinely feel connected to me.” You blushed as he said this, genuinely taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. You feel bad for dreading and almost resenting Zhongli when you were first notified about the engagement, once finding out just how compassionate and caring the man before you was. Slowly, the two of you made your way into the large king sized bed. There was a large gap between the two of you, large enough to comfortably fit another person. Your mind raced a mile a minute trying to decide whether or not you should scoot in a little closer to the man next to you.

And so you did, without taking another moment to think about it you shifted closer to Zhongli until your side gently pressed against his. You felt Zhongli stiffen beside you for a brief moment, and for a split second you regretted scooting in; that was until you felt him roll over onto his side and wrap a strong arm around your torso. You could really take in Zhongli’s scent like this and you noticed that he smelled like amber rum, chestnuts, and a hint of vanilla. It wrapped you in a warmth that lulled you into a comforting silence as the two of you laid together like this.

You rolled onto your side, letting Zhongli’s arm now rest against your waist. Your noses were almost touching as the two of you stared into each other's eyes. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips for the briefest of seconds, letting yourself do the same.

“Zhongli…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” You saw Zhongli’s eyes widen as his gorgeous eyes met yours, not expecting you to ask him that.

“I would love nothing more… Darling.” You flushed at the mild pet name, before softly placing your lips onto his. It felt as time skidded to a halt, as the two of you moved against each other with the grace of a slow dance. Soon enough it became heated, as you changed positions and straddled his hips. You could feel his boner pressing against you through his pants, and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“You really want to do this right? You don’t feel pressured my dear?” You smiled at Zhongli’s questions, nodding before he could get another one out. It felt good to be so concerned about, so doted over.

“Yes Zhongli, I really want to do this with you. I trust you.” This time it was Zhongli’s turn to flush, an elegant smile gracing his lips. Before long, the both of you were out of your sleeping clothes and back on top of one another. Your back was to the silken bed sheets, as Zhongli was on top of you lining his hard cock up with your eager pussy. Zhongli gave you one last look before slowly entering you inch by inch. To say he was huge would be an understatement, so he knew he had to take it slow with you so as to not hurt you in any way. Zhongli needed this to be a good experience with you, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or made this unenjoyable in any way at all.

The noises you were making and the way your hands were clawing at his back reassured him that he was doing everything right so far, always stopping after pushing in a few inches to give you time to adjust. Without thinking, Zhongli's mouth just started moving as words spilled out.

“You’re doing so good for me my angel, you’re taking me so well. You’re too good for me.” With the praise spilling out of Zhongli’s mouth, you couldn’t help but unleash a flurry of loud moans, as he bottomed out. He stood still for a couple moments, making sure you were nice and comfortable, until he felt you trying to move against him; trying to get him to move in and out of you.

“If you were ready for me to move, all you needed to do was ask my gem.” You let out a whine like moan, that evolved into a guttural groan when he finally started to thrust in and out of you. Your nails raked across his skin, surely leaving marks for you to admire after this was all said and done. He wasn’t skipping out on the marks either, as he sucked and bit at your skin, still throwing out praise every time his mouth left your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, as he sped up. He just couldn’t help himself, your wet quivering pussy just felt way too good wrapped around him; sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“I can’t believe it took us getting into an arranged marriage to finally meet, my god where have you been all my life.” Zhongli had begun to groan, obviously getting close to tipping over the edge, with the way his thrusts continued to get sloppier every so often. You moaned in response, too blissed out of your mind to form actual words. Zhongli’s head fell against your shoulder, his ebony black hair hanging off his shoulders.

With a few more strokes, Zhongli had both of you tumbling over the edge and cumming in unison. All that could be heard in your room was the quiet crashing of waves and the combined panting of the both of you. After a few moments of Zhongli getting his breath back he tumbled down next to you, sweaty shoulders touching. A couple seconds of silence passed before you spoke up in a raspy broken voice.

“It took us so long because I’m technically your rival.” You were giggling slightly, when Zhongli let out a loud chuckle.

“I guess you are right my dear, but now we are joined together. And I cannot wait to see what comes of our joining.”

[chocolate-parfait]

Hey✌️ I was wondering if you could do cuddles and kisses with Leviathan, Beel and Mammon? Headcanons if you would? Thank you! Have a nice day!

I WANNA SMOOCH MAMON SO BAD PLS

also!! ty for requesting this!! I had sm fun writing it and it's been a long time ever since I wrote for obey me🥺

Kissing and cuddling - Obey me! headcanons (Mammon, Levi & Beel)

Mammon

He’s one of the clingiest brothers, if not THE clingiest one. He’s a man that has been starved of proper affections for far too long, so the moment he has you within arm's reach, you can bet that he’ll always be touching you in some sort of way. Arm around your waist, fingers gripping your sleeve, hand reaching for yours, whatever is fine as long as there’s some sort of contact. This habit of his comes out in particular whenever your attention isn't on him. If you’re talking to someone, he’ll just come behind you and give you a back hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as you go on with the conversation.

The first few attempts at intimacy make him blush like crazy, but he gets better over time (not that much but at least he’s not on the verge of passing out each time). Still, his cravings for affections make him naturally drawn to you, so he can’t help you but trail after you most of the time (whenever he’s not out gambling or causing mischief yk). This said, his happy place is definitely between your arms. In fact, a daily part of his routine consists of laying on your bed, snuggled close against your chest. Cuddle sessions mostly take place in your room because the moment you get close to Mammon that will automatically become his room too. It’s like living in a shared apartment, since he strolls in without much care, showers in your bathroom (he has his toothbrush, cologne and everything else there) and keeps his shirts in your closet. He does all this because he believes you’re okay with it, but if you tell him to stop he’d remove all his traces from your bedroom and distance himself with a slightly broken heart. It’s part of his love language, and denying it can kinda damage your relationship.

Back to the fluff though! He’s the smallest spoon ever and no, I do not accept criticism. Go argue with the wall or fight me. The only time he’ll be a big spoon will be when you need comfort. Any other time he just wants to be held.

His kisses can start off slow and be sometimes shy, but they all soon turn into eager, sloppy kisses. He enjoys it so much he drowns in the moment, unable to think of anything but you and your lips. It’s not like he’s an inexperienced kisser (quite the contrary actually) but anything that involves you makes his head spin and stomach flutter with feelings he has never felt before.

This man accepts any and all types of kisses you wish to give him, but if he had to choose a favorite one then that’d be the flurry of smooches you fire at his face as you squish his cheeks in a burst of love. Not even his skin tone can hide the massive blush that blooms across his profile with every peck; but no matter what he tells you, don’t stop. Never. If you do he’ll catch your wrists and pout like a kid deprived of his favorite candy until you continue with your cascade of pecks.

Levi

This man wishes he could be as smooth as all those otome protagonists, but no matter how much time passes and how comfortable he gets with you, his blushy cheeks will follow him everywhere, anytime. What changes though is that despite the embarrassment, as time goes by he indulges and initiates intimacy more and more. Moreover, he’ll never deny you; even in public, he might squirm and protest but in the end you can always get away with whatever you want (as long as it’s not too “hardcore”).

One of his favorite cuddling poses that he fantasizes about for days, consists of you sitting on his lap, encaged between his arms as he plays with his videogames. When he finally finds the courage to pull you close, he’s trembling so much he absolutely cannot concentrate on the screen in front of him, failing every mission/level of his current game; he won't move though! He's kind of like petrified.. It took him so long to get into this position in the first place, so he's not letting go now, that's for sure. The position in itself isn't anything too particular or scandalous, but that's why he likes it. It's something so ordinary that it's a special thing for someone like him.

Sleeping is a good countermeasure to his shyness, because his unconscious body will chase after yours no matter how far apart in bed you are (in BED because you aint sleeping in a damned bathtub??). He’ll hug you to his body and entangle his legs with yours, basking in the shared warmth of your bodies. (please please PLEASE sneak under his oversized hoodie and snuggle in there while the two of you sleep!!! He’ll have five consecutive heart attacks once he wakes up but he’ll find it the cutest thing ever).

Kind of a big spoon but he’s too shy to initiate anything. Lean into his touch like a cat (maybe purr too) and he’ll be putty in your hands, letting you hug and kiss whatever part of him you want.

Just like any other display of intimacy, kisses aren't his forte, but still, he tries. He's a bit clumsy and might throw in some signature phrases worthy of any tsundere afterwards, but he can get serious too! There are times when he wants to demonstrate you his "manly" side (why would it have to do with gender levi?) and that he too can be a proper lover! During those sudden spurs of confidence turn his kisses into really pleasurable experiences, and truthfully, they are his best ones.

Beel

You guys know those gigantic teddy bears right? 2 meters tall of pure fluff?? That’s Beel.

This man is,,, where do I even start. It’s as if God made him with the sole purpose of creating a professional cuddler. Beel gives the best hugs and cuddles in all three realms. His hugs are warm and soft, and they have the power of making even the most obstinate of insomniacs fall asleep within mere minutes under the right circumstances. Of course the duration of your sleep is not guaranteed, as you’ll probably awaken at the sound of munching or his stomach’s roars. Still, he won’t move unless he’s literally on the verge of unleashing his demon form out of hunger, as he doesn’t want to interrupt your sleep.

His kisses are as soft as feathers but full of love, always accompanied with a toothy smile or a fond giggle. He doesn’t mind going for deeper kisses (particularly after you’ve eaten something so he can directly taste it from you), but Beel generally remains a big softie most of the time. Smooch him all you want, cradle his face with your hands, pinch his cheeks and tickle his sides, he’ll let you do anything you want as long as you’re enjoying it!

He’s kind of scared of hurting you seen the size and strength difference, so he’s usually very gentle when touching you, although he really really likes enveloping you in a bone-crushing embrace every now and then. Sometimes, as a playful manner to show his affection towards you, he’ll bite whatever spot of skin he finds nearest. You’re sitting next to him? He’ll target your shoulder. You’re chomp. They don’t really hurt, it’s just a genuine gesture for him! He’s munching on food all the time and he loves food, and since he loves you too… *chomp*

All cuddle sessions with him must involve three things, and they are fundamental: you, him and food. The more food you have, the longer you’ll cuddle. When the inevitable happens and the mountain of snacks you prepared is nowhere to be seen anymore, he'll gently wrap your arms and legs around his torso and walk you both to the kitchen, carrying you around like a big baby that doesn't want to leave its parent's embrace. He'll keep you there for as long as your muscles let you, supporting you with an arm as he ravages the fridge with the other.

[one-boring-person]

Hey, if you take requests, can I ask Eric x Reader where he’s obsessed with her? Ps. "Stiff, huh?" Is so intense ... Eric is wow

I do take requests! Thank you for leaving this, it was fun to write! I hope this is alright! And I'm glad you enjoyed the other fic 😊💛💛

I'll Cover You.

Eric Coulter x reader

Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, violence, gun use

Masterlist

A yelp inadvertently escapes me as a sharp bolt of pain goes through my right hand, my punch falling short as I flinch back in surprise. Biting my lip, I shake my hand, glancing around at the other initiates nearby, thankful that no one has noticed my brief moment of weakness. Discreetly, I unfold my fist and examine it, trying to discern exactly what caused the sudden discomfort, looking over the purple bruising dusting my knuckles, as well as the grazes adorning the same areas. I frown, unsure of what happened. Shaking it off, I simply get back into position and go to strike the punchbag again, tensing my core before I do anything.

A stern voice interrupts me, however, as a familiar figure steps up beside me.

"Take your thumb out of your fist, initiate." Eric commands, staring me down with his icy blue eyes.

"S-sorry?" I stutter, unsure of what he means as I look down at my fists.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, forming a fist with his own hand.

"Like this. It's not hard." He shows me, gesturing to my own hands.

Trying not to look at his bulging muscles, I observe his hand and copy it, only now realising what he meant.

"Never punch with your thumb in your fist, or you'll end up breaking it. Wouldn't be a great start, would it?" Are his only words before he stalks off, going to watch over some other initiate, leaving me blinking in his wake.

Keeping my hands as he showed me, I start beating the bag again, ignoring the slight stinging from the grazes as I work on the efficiency of my blows. With each punch, I make sure to hold my composure, stepping back from the bag as if my opponent were retaliating, keeping my eyes trained on it, so much so that I completely zone out the area around me. That is until I hear my name being called.

"(Y/n)! Kai! In the ring, now!" Eric orders us, voice resonating around the training area as it always does, his authority lacing his tone.

Swallowing nervously, I cautiously walk over to the raised platform, terrified at the thought of facing off with this particular initiate. People stare as I climb up, their eyes roaming over my body critically, comparing me with the hugely muscular boy across from me. Kai is massive in every sense of the word: bulging muscular arms, visibly toned torso, thighs like pillars and with a towering height that looms over the tallest of people. Surprisingly, however, his personality is much softer, the guy being relatively friendly with everyone, only really using his strength (gained from hard work in the Amity fields) for good use; he almost always apologizes for hurting someone. As I square up to him, I feel myself becoming more and more nervous by the minute, his fists easily the size of two of mine, but I ignore the rising sense of dread and wait for Eric to start us off.

"Go." The leader simply grunts, watching closely as we start circling each other.

Controlling my breathing, I move my weight onto the balls of my feet and hold my arms over my body, providing some protection from the oncoming onslaught of blows. Judging his step, I make eye contact with Kai briefly before suddenly ducking into his space and jabbing my fist out at his lower abdomen, striking his rock-hard abs with some force. Instantly, I recoil back out of reach, prepared for some form of retaliation in reaction to the blow, somewhat surprised when he shows minimal pain. Distracted by this, I quickly receive a blow to the stomach, having left it unguarded from my previous attack, the breath leaving me as his knuckles make contact. Grunting, I stumble backwards, ducking over my body to protect myself, only to accidentally make myself into an easier target as he grabs hold of my head and smashes my face into his lifted knee. Tears spring to my eyes as my nose audibly crunches, blood starting to pour from it as I begin to lose some focus, the pain raising in my face very disconcerting. 

With my head still in his hands, I feel him lift it again for yet another blow with his knee, my mind racing as I jerk out my arm and jab it into the space between his thighs. A grunt escapes him at this, instinctively releasing me as he goes to protect his intimate regions. Relieved, I slip out of his reach and readjust, taking note of his slightly hunched position. Moving swiftly, I get closer and swing my leg round in a sharp kick to his jaw, throwing his head to the side painfully, the muscular boy spitting out a mouthful of blood as he goes, one of his teeth coming loose from the sudden impact. Triumphant, I go to repeat the action, only to find my leg grabbed by him, his hand closing around my limb tightly. Smirking, he quickly uses this hold on my leg to pull my feet out from under me, easily throwing me over his shoulder and smashing me into the ground, pain blossoming in my chest as it collides. Winded, I lie there, only just managing to twist onto my back as he lifts a foot over my head, ready to kick me into unconsciousness.

"Stop." Eric's cool voice interrupts us both, breaking through the haze.

Both our heads snap round to look at him, my vision spinning as I do so, confused as I stare at our leader through blurry eyes.

"Go to the infirmary and get yourselves fixed up. Now." He commands us, turning away from us and going to stand a little way away.

As soon as his back is turned, Kai crouches down to my level and offers me a hand, grey eyes clouded with concern.

"You alright? I'm sorry, I went too far." He says, helping me upright, slipping his arm around my back and lending me his shoulder to get me walking.

"It's fine, Kai, don't worry. It's what we're supposed to do, after all. I'm sorry about hitting you...there." I apologise, wincing as my chest heaves slightly, my ribs clearly bruised.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine."

As we walk, neither of us notice Eric's eyes following us out of the room.

*

For once, I don't barely climb onto the train as I speeds by, my arms somehow managing to pull me inside with time to spare, a smile working its way onto my face in triumph. Usually, I seem to struggle with having the distance, but tonight I managed it with some ease, meaning I didn't have to embarrass myself under the watchful eyes of Eric, who stares down at me as I straighten again. As always, his face is blank, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his muscles straining under the fabric of his coat. Suppressing the smile on my face, I bite my lip and look away, ignoring the slight twitch of his brow as he looks me over, eyeing me carefully as I go to stand with Kai, who has quickly become a good friend of mine, the huge boy turning out to be very caring and enjoyable to have around. 

"Where do you think we're going?" The brunette asks me as I go to lean on the wall beside him.

Shrugging, I watch as the rest of the initiates join us, the Dauntless-born easily springing onto the moving train whilst the others, like Kai and I, struggle a little. Four is last to hop up, as always.

"I don't know." I inform my friend, looking to the bags at Eric's feet.

"Well, if you wait patiently, you might just find out." Eric suddenly bites out, his gaze fixed on the two of us.

Surprised, we both now, exchanging a glance between us.

"Oops." I mutter to him, falling silent as we watch the leader step forwards into the middle of the initiates.

"We're gonna play some Capture the Flag tonight. Four and I will each lead a team, each of which hides a flag and has to defend it. First team to get the opposing flag wins." He explains briefly, bending to unzip one of the bags at his feet, pulling out a type of gun I've never seen before, "You'll each get one of these. They're loaded with neurostim darts, which will simulate the pain of a gunshot wound without actually injuring you. They hurt like a bitch, so watch yourselves."

As he says this, Eric allows his eyes to fall on Kai and I, narrowing them as he finds my friend.

"Ok, Eric and I will now pick our teams. Eric will go first." Four chips in, gesturing for the leader to start.

"I'll take (Y/n)." He chooses, staring at me as I double take in surprise. Dumbfounded, I nod once, signifying that I heard him.

Four appears surprised momentarily, before he blinks and chooses one of the Dauntless-born.

Five minutes later and we've all been picked for a team, each of us sidling over towards our corresponding team leader as the train starts to come to a slowed pace. Kai was picked for Four's team, so I shoot him one last look before going to stand with the rest of Eric's team, taking one of the proffered guns and comfortably resting it against my hip, keeping the safety on for now. Looking up, I make eye contact with the stern leader, just catching his eye before he quickly glances away, saying something to Four as we prepare to leave the train, having been told to do so.

Without warning, Eric and Four throw themselves from the vehicle, landing somewhere in the darkness as the rest of us follow hastily, unwilling to be left on the train. Slinging the gun over my shoulder, I launch myself into the black night, my feet colliding with the ground seconds later, causing me to roll to absorb the shock, my hands scraping slightly on the uneven gravel. I'm quick to right myself, however, taking the gun off of my shoulder as I take out my torch and light it, easily locating Eric and going to stand with him. The rest of the team joins us and we leave the main area, walking for a few minutes until Eric stops.

"We'll need a tactic. Four is good at this, but I've beaten him most times so we need to make sure we don't lose to him tonight, got it?" The leader briefs us, holding out the luminescent flag to one of the Dauntless-born, "Go hide this in that old ticket booth over there. It's easy enough to defend and it's hard for them to find. The rest of you, find somewhere to hide around it. (Y/n), you're coming with me."

Surprised, I look at him but agree anyway, glad to have some alone time with the leader, watching as he elects one of the more experienced initiates to take charge of the defending team, before he signals for me to follow him. Taking the safety off my gun, I do so, keeping my footfall light and gentle, staying low to the ground to avoid being seen. Eric does the same, his movements calculated and practiced, his muscular frame somehow managing to step stealthily over the uneven ground.

"What did you want me for?" I hiss at him, keeping an eye out for any attackers.

"I need you to climb that tower and locate their flag. And you have the best aim, so I'm gonna need you to snipe out any guards if you can, so that you can then go in and get it." He whispers back, pointing to a nearby tower.

Frowning, I go to respond.

"And what about you?"

"I'll cover you, obviously." He replies matter-of-factly.

"Right."

As we approach the tower, he breaks off and goes to hide behind a nearby dumpster, reinforcing his plan to me as he does so, expecting me to scale the riveted wall of the abandoned structure by hand. Swallowing, I replace the gun over my shoulders and look over the rough surface before me, wondering how the hell I'm ever going to pull this off. Finding a handhold, I start ascending, using the marks to my advantage as I hoist myself higher and higher, ignoring the aching protests of my arms. Grazes litter my fingertips, my muscles trembling with each pull up, the gun knocking gently against my lower back. 

It takes me a few minutes, but soon I'm high enough that I can see the area around us, my eyes roaming the dark area with scrutiny, looking out for the fluorescent flag. I spot it easily, the colourful fabric glowing brightly on top of another nearby tower, just a little way away, a figure guarding it alone, though there are most likely others at the base of the structure. 

A sudden cry of pain snaps my attention down to the ground again, my eyes swiftly finding the silhouette of a body lying on the floor, Eric swiftly moving out to make sure the threat stays down, his fun levelled in preparation. Upon seeing this, I start climbing back down, spotting another three oncoming opponents just a little way away from us, their voices somewhat raised. Taking note of this, I hasten down, managing to hop down in time to face off with the newcomers, who are faced with a swift barrage of darts. Two fall, clutching at their legs in pain, the third taking a little more to neutralize before he too drops to the floor, squirming in agony.

"You find it?" Eric questions me, secretly checking me over for any injury in the darkness, aware that he can't really see much 

"Yeah, it's this way." Turning, the two of us run in the direction of the other tower, thankfully staying clear of any enemies until we reach the low wall surrounding the structure. Circling it, we soon figure out why this particular tower was chosen.

"There's only one way into the tower past this wall, and they'll all be around that area." Eric muses, stopping with his back pressed against the offending architecture, "Any ideas?"

Thinking for a minute, I eye the wall carefully.

"I think so. We didn't get shot at as we approached it, which means they must all be at the other end, or not paying any attention, so one of us could climb over the wall  and get in that way, but they'd be vulnerable when they were climbing the tower." I suggest, tapping my weapon slightly.

"I said I'd cover you. You climb and I'll shoot the bastards, then I'll join you at the top." Eric confirms, gesturing for me to go.

Nodding, I make my way around to another part of the wall, starting to scale it in the darkness as I did before, hoping no one will catch me. Gritting my teeth, I haul myself over the structure and drop into the enclosed area, glad to hear the cries of alarm coming from a different part of the circle as I run over to the base of the tower. Thanking my aptitude for climbing, I start making my way up the building, trying to ignore the possibility of falling to my death as I start to get higher and higher off the ground. It takes me a little while, but I eventually manage to pull my aching limbs up and onto the balcony of the upper floor of the tower, somehow still out of sight of the guard, who is shooting at what I'm assuming is Eric down in the circle. Quietly, I slip into the shadows and ready my gun, shooting the unsuspecting initiate into the back, their sharp cry of surprise and pain resonating loudly around the room as I take up the flag and go to the open window. Leaning out, I scream out to the people below, waving it around triumphantly as a chorus of groans escapes the gathering of defenders, Eric already climbing the steps inside the tower. 

Ecstatic, I shake the flag around more, happy that I may have proved myself as capable for once, my face split into a proud grin. Behind me, Eric suddenly bursts in, coming over to me with a smirk of his own.

"Congratulations, (Y/n)." He says, seemingly considering something.

"Thank you." I murmur, fighting off the blush as he stares at me, his eyes concealing a different emotion to what I was expecting.

Suddenly, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, swallowing my squeak of surprise as he starts to move with me. Cupping my face in his hand, his other at my waist, pulling me closer, Eric continues to kiss me, the sensation stirring up butterflies in my stomach, my body craving his touch as he presses himself flush against me. Briefly pulling apart for air, he manages to say something before he closes the gap again.

"God, I'm obsessed with you."

[forcefulkitten]

my only experiment

[feitan portor x fem! reader]

summary: your sexscapades with Feitan are normally similar to a business transaction. he see’s something in you that’s intriguing, and you long to experience all of him.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, face slapping, spanking, knife play [his claws], rough sex, mentions of blood, anal fingering, anal plug

word count: 2,392

You always questioned your sanity for enjoying the way Feitan used your body for his own pleasure. You felt like an experiment to him, an obedient little whore who’s purpose is to fulfill his desires and endure the pain he inflicts on you. You’re different from the other experiments he’s had in the past. They were all soft, unable to find pleasure in his ministrations, dealing with it in hopes of gaining his affection. Feitan enjoyed seeing them in pain, until he got a glimpse of you. He wouldn’t admit this to you, but the way you enjoyed his punishments convinced him to keep seeing you. You took whatever he subjected you to with stride, even thanking him for pleasuring you so well. He was... pleasuring you? This confused him. Feitan wanted to torture you. Finding out you enjoy his antics as much as he enjoys impairing you only makes him more animalistic.

Naked and on your knees facing Feitan, he leaned in front of you looking down at your figure. Your eyes inviting him to begin the fun, he brings his hand down harshly and slaps you right across your face. The sting is pleasant to you, turning your face for him to slap the opposite side. Feitan follows through, both sides of your face feeling tighter because of his heavy hand. He grips your chin and yanks your face to meet his stare, but he has a look that you can’t understand right now. He doesn’t look as cold and calculating as usual, you begin to think he was admiring you for a second. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Feitan dragging you up by your neck and sitting you down on the silk lined bed behind you. He’s hovering over you, two of his fingers finding their way into your mouth. You opened for him, licking his slender digits that pushed as far back as they could go until his knuckle was grazing your front teeth. Feitan’s other hand found its way to your neck, squeezing tightly and stopping your airflow. You tried to keep your composure even though black began to cloud your vision, threatening to knock you out from the lack of air and his fingers knuckle deep in your mouth all at once. Tears welled in your eyes, gathering to fall any second now. Feitan could feel his erection growing at the sight of you. “Good girl.” He praises, releasing his hold on your throat and taking his fingers out of your mouth. The first few times he’d done this, you gasped for air and gagged on his fingers, still enjoying yourself but not yet accustomed to the things he was doing.

Taking a seat near you, he motioned for you to lay over his lap with your ass facing upwards. Following his silent instruction, you get into position and giggle with excitement at what’s to come. This earns you a hard slap to one of your perfect cheeks, and a warning from Feitan for you to relax.  With expert precision and a firm hand, he slaps each cheek heavier than the last one at a time, over and over. You stopped counting at one point, focusing your breathing and gripping the silk sheets. Both cheeks red and stinging, the pain is still enjoyable for you. Each hit sends shivers through your entire body and heat directly to your core. Feitan brings one of his hands down to play with your cunt, not shocked by how wet you are already. He slides his fingers up and down your slit before finding your bundle of nerves and swirling gently. You can feel his erection prodding your lower stomach, wondering when he’s going to give in and fuck you. He’s unpredictable and there’s days where he’ll torture you for a little while, and days where he prolongs it for hours before entering your cunt.

Grinding your pussy up towards his fingers for more friction, Feitan is growing irritated at you being impatient and testing him. “Brave today?” He inquired, almost too quiet for you to hear. “Aren’t I always?” You mocked, a smug tone and sarcasm laced in your voice. You earn a chuckle out of him as he takes one of his digits soaked in your essence and pushes it right in your ass. You whimper out in pain at the new sensation which required more prepping for sure. Feitan doesn’t let up his onslaught on your puckered tight hole, sliding his finger in until it goes in and out with ease. 

The noises coming out of your mouth are delightful to him, he wants to hear more. Adding another digit, you trembled “Fei please.” Are you insisting for him to slow down? You? His favorite experiment that never complained? He’s shocked, aroused, and having too good of a time to be considerate at the moment. “Fei? Don’t. Call. Me. THAT.” He emphasizes each word with a hard push of his two digits while tears are streaming down your face. “Just be brave, aren’t you always?” He taunted you with the sarcasm you spit at him earlier. This goes on for what felt like forever before the pain turned into pleasure. Your tears dried up and now drool spilling out of your mouth at the sheer satisfaction of how he’s making you feel. Feitan was delighted to see that you’d made it to this point. You’ve never asked him for mercy and he thought you were going to a while ago ago. You’re captivating and solid, these days he finds himself actually wanting to make you happy instead of force his punishments on you. Slick fingers pop out of you and are replaced with an anal plug. You winced in pain at the stretch but the sting was forgotten quickly.

Feitan instructs you to get up and lay on your back. You oblige, plopping down onto the soft bed. You can’t remember ever feeling this bed on your back. He always fucked you from behind, thrusting into your body with a strength that was surprising from someone of his size. Making his way to you, Feitan traps you between both of his arms and goes straight to biting and sucking on your neck. The feeling is indulging, and you can’t stop your thoughts from going back to his different demeanor today. He didn’t even fuck your face today, which was always in his routine. He seems softer right now, and you’re hoping you can press your boundaries and actually kiss him today. Out of all your sexscapades with Feitan, he never once locked lips with you. Keeping a scarf on to cover his face, and a black shirt instead of his long cloak even when he’s busy impaling you. It never took away from the experience but you dreamed of what his mouth felt and tasted like. Would he be rough? Would he be soft? Dominating like he always is, or will he let you control the pace since he’s busy rutting into you? 

You were caught in a daze between his feast on your neck and wondering what his mouth was like when Feitan began to position himself at your entrance. He slid his cock all the way in, your walls tight but inviting after him teasing you for so long. His pace starts off hard and quick like if he’s trying to break you in half, and he brings his hand baring sharp claws to press into your neck. Feitan has cut you with his nails before, and even told you that he can gut you easily with one hand alone if he desired. That didn’t stop you from still seeing him, and you couldn’t doubt that it served to make you desire him more. He’s dangerous, cunning and merciless. It was a thrilling feeling to go walk home sore, feeling the cold air sting the fresh cuts that riddled your body. You felt like you survived a battle, a losing one, but you were always content nonetheless. 

Feitan hooked one of your thighs over his shoulder, pounding into you relentlessly. Your moans and the squelching noises from your cunt filled the room. You felt every ridge of his cock, biting your lip to stop yourself from screaming in bliss. His nails were leaving you with surface cuts on your neck but he wasn’t trying to slice into you like he normally did. The feeling of his cock hitting the same spot deep in you, pressing against where the anal plug was resting, only separated by your gummy walls, made your orgasm build up. The friction from his body fucking into yours is intoxicating, you didn’t want this to end. Feeling your walls start to tighten against his cock involuntarily, Feitan knows you’re close and grunts “I’m taking my time with you today.” 

His heavy thrusts slow down, pace becoming slower and more gentle. He grabs your hips and begins to roll his into your soaking cunt, kissing your cervix with a sharp thrust once he’s fully sheathed in you. Sweat beads piling up on his hairline threaten to fall at any moment, and your clouded mind is sick of hearing your moans fill the room. Feitan never helped with this either, keeping himself quiet besides low groans and grunts when you clenched around him or when he was close to his climax. Feeling brazen, you slip your hands underneath his shirt and explore his torso for the first time ever. Much to your surprise, he isn’t putting up a fight. Tracing his abs and slowly inching your hands up to where his neck was, you know you’re pushing your luck. Feitan’s forehead is resting on the top of your head, continuing his slower pace into your cunt. You think he’s not paying attention, too distracted by how much tighter you feel because of the plug wedged in your ass, but he’s deciding to be lenient with you and see what you have planned. 

Taking full advantage of this rare opportunity, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, still underneath his shirt and bring your legs around his waist. Sure, Feitan’s small in height but that doesn’t mean he lacks in strength. The new position has you grasping onto him with all your weight, his cock reaching even deeper than before. Bodies pressed together closer than he’d ever allow before, you bring your hips to meet his everytime he inches himself out of your cunt. His fingers are gripping the sheets now, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t bust right now and see you walk out to go home less than 10 minutes later. The feeling of your breast pressed so close to him, you clinging onto him for dear life and the way you smile at him while he destroys you is flooding his thought process. He wants you like this forever now, underneath him writhing in pleasure, begging him not to stop his ministrations. The business like experiences you both shared before aren’t satiating him anymore, not when you try your best to please him no matter the circumstances, still enjoying yourself even in a vulnerable state. He admires your vulnerability, a trait that he would never allow himself to be. 

Your orgasm is creeping back up again, all of the sensations too much for your body to handle. Quickly tugging Feitan’s scarf down from his face, you take in a sight you’ve never witnessed before and ready yourself to possibly be killed. It would be a happy death though because you got to see and feel him in his entirety now. His claws come to your neck swiftly and slice into you, blood splattering near your jugular and onto the sheets behind you. Not enough for you to die or bleed out, but still a warning nonetheless. You grip the hand that just sliced into you and bring it down to play with your clit. Feitan just goes with it, swirling his cold fingers around your swollen bud. Orgasm on the brink of hitting you, your moans are music to his ears. The fact that you dared to grip his hand and force him to meet your needs surprises him. You look up at Feitan in adoration, taking in his full face. He’s nothing short of beautiful, lips perfect and a shade of pink that contrasts his pale skin. He can see you staring between his eyes and lips with hunger and dips down to make out with you.

For the first time ever, Feitan’s lips are on yours while his fingers bring you to your orgasm. He’s exploring your mouth like a starved man, cursing himself for not kissing you sooner. Bucking against him and gripping his shoulders, the coil in your stomach breaks and your orgasm spills onto his cock, cunt squeezing him with a vice grip. He doesn’t stop swirling his fingers on your clit but you’re too distracted with his mouth to pay attention to the overstimulation. 

Speeding up his thrusts again and plummeting into your cunt to chase his release, he knows he’s close. Moving the hand from your clit to palm one of your boobs and pinch your nipple. Your tongue is swirling in his mouth, sucking on his tongue, nipping and biting his lips any chance you get. The way you’re fully submitting to him whilst engaging some dominance sends Feitan over the edge. Spilling his seed into you, your walls milk him for every drop he releases. Your hips continue to meet his slower now, and he tears his lips away from yours to press a kiss to your forehead. Getting himself up from the bed, you lay back and take in all the new events that happened. You should be getting up and leaving after cleaning yourself, but since fatigue is washing over you, you don’t have the willpower to get up right now, so you decide not to. 

You wake up some time later, blanket covering you and a glass of water on the side table next to the bed. Sitting up and taking a sip of the water, you notice a note next to the glass. “Be back later. Make yourself comfortable, or don’t. You’re my only experiment from now on.” Smiling to yourself, you realize that you’re in for a lot more fun with Fei, and your heart is elated.

[ad--misericordiam]

Screw him, literally. Not SFW. (M. A. M. Ver.)

w: female-coded language.

Michael likes to have his fingers inside your mouth. At first you'd think he only does it to silence you, forcing long, thick fingers down your gullet so you choke on them. And, while that is true, it's not the only reason. He likes how demeaning it is, how depraved you look drooling on his hand, tears and spit running down your neck while his cock sullies every nook and cranny inside your pussy. If you try to call his name while he's balls-deep inside you, Michael will shove his fingers further down, until he can feel you gagging. But his cock gets harder, and you can finally hear the pants he's been suffocating. You can suck on his digits all you want, nursing on them as if they were his cock, moaning around them needily, just don't bite them. A little tease of teeth nibbling playfully on his fingertips will amuse him, though, but that's as far as you can go.

(This HC in particular is dedicated to my fellow thick girls) That little pouch of chub some women have at the bottom of their tummy? Michael is obsessed with it. He's a large, broad, well-built man, so any softness he can squeeze while groping your body belongs to him now. Sure, your tits and ass are nice too, but he favours other types of pudginess. Soft stomachs, plush thighs, chubby cheeks... yeah. He likes how pillowy your body feels when he makes you assume the position. He likes to see your round cheeks darken under his stare while you slobber on his cock. Mhm, Michael has a thing for plus-sized women. The way your torso bounces under the brunt of his thrusts? Enthralling. He'll keep your thighs apart, massive hands deterring you from folding them towards your chest to obscure his view.

The first time Michael went down on you, he had you blindfolded. He wasn't ready to show you his face yet, but he wanted to taste you, so that's the solution he came up with. First, you have to understand that he's doing it to satisfy his own curiosity rather than to bring you pleasure, but that doesn't necessarily mean he can't do both. His method is raw, unsophisticated if you will, but quite effective. His fingers reach a depth no one ever had before, much less you, and your inner walls keep on being rubbed and prodded insistently. One, two, three fingers slithering their way into your channel until it feels taut and puffy, “Michael, please, my clit...”. He looks at you, then at the engorged button, pulling its hood back with his thumb to watch it throb before he welcomes it into his mouth. His tongue strokes it in upward motions, lips sealed around it, sucking steadily and... is he humming? Yes, he is. If he enjoys your moans on his cock while you blow him, why wouldn't you? He wants to know what makes you writhe, what makes you delirious, just so he can keep you there, right on the edge of exhilaration until he's ready to have mercy on you. Michael is one sadistic fucker.

Spankings? Sure, he won't use anything but the palm of his hand, though. Furthermore, when this happens it's on his terms. Meaning, your head will be rammed into the bed with your hips raised high in the hair, your hair held in a makeshift ponytail, cunt abused under the onslaught the head of his cock puts your cervix through. His strikes leave welts— angry, crimson marks that sting each time his hips plunge foward. His movements have an added force, flesh hitting flesh in an staccato rhythm, all just to hear the string of girlish 'Ah, ah, ah!' moans. Slapping your tits? Your pussy? You got it. He'll leave your body sore and spent, and you'll get a somewhat cuddly Michael when it's all over, like he's praising you for taking it so well, maybe he'll even relent to a shower together. He won't slap you, maybe he'll give you some light pats on the cheek as if mocking you with a non-verbal 'That's a good girl', or hold your jaw open so he can shove his tongue inside your mouth. But he won't actually hit you.

You won't get away with teasing him. Pretending you tripped to press your chest to his? Bending over to do whatever and making a show of it? Using a low-cut shirt that shows a glimpse of your bra? Michael is not amused, “Come here, Y/N”. If he's around to witness all of those antics of yours it means he's already okay with going maskless around you, so if he's voicing his disapproval? You're in deep shit, watch your step. He can use you like an oversized fleshlight, and he will if you keep acting like a spoiled brat, don't test him. He'll lift you up like a rag doll so your slit hovers on his shaft, cockhead parting the puffy lips before his length pierces your cunny in one swift motion, the crown of it leaving an indent on your belly when he drives forward. You'll have to beg him to stop, crying from overstimulation, because no matter how many times you cum, no matter how much your walls flutter and tremble, trying to milk his cock in vain, Michael won't yield until he's certain you've learnt your lesson.

His cock could be considered a weapon of mass destruction. The biggest out of all the slashers, long and thick, and ridiculously sensitive. A little veiny, but nothing crazy, and while the sheer weight of it should make it hang between his legs even when hard, it always points up like a homing missile, arching towards his bellybutton. Doesn't bother with trimming his pubes because he only grows a handful of short, golden hairs anyway. If you want to blow him, you only need to ask his nicely, he won't resist at all, he'll let you unzip his coveralls and slip your hands inside. He always goes commando. If you do a good job he'll reward you with a neck massage, and if he's sans mask you'll get to witness how his eyes harden with barely contained need. He gives you free reign to explore him throughly as long as you bahave, content with staring at the way your eyes water when you force him deeper down your throat. If you start teasing him, though... God bless your poor soul. Sure, kitten licks and delicate kisses are cute as long as you crank up the dial after a while, but that's about it. If you delay his gratification he'll be forced to take matters into his own hands, yanking your head back by the hair and fucking your face with wild abandon, taking what you denied him, grunting and huffing, pressing your face flat against his pelvis when the pleasure peaks, “Swallow”.

Michael actually likes being ridden, weirdly enough, it's the only time he'll let you do as you please, no ifs or buts. If I had to guess, I'd say it's because he knows you won't control yourself once you get on top of him. Holding your hips? Done. Letting you lean back on his thighs to gain leverage? Of course. Giving you a faint grin while you impale yourself on his dick? You can bet your ass, he's insufferable like that. Be warned, if he's allowing you to fuck him, he trusts you a good deal, so if you dive down to smother him in kisses, he'll return them willingly, eagerly. If you moan, he'll hug you close, thrusting up at you, “Mine... mine”. His words are hoarse due to the lack of use, and yet hearing his voice is enough to send you over the edge, chanting “Yours, Michael, all yours” until his mouth silences you. That's the way you can tell he cares about you. He considers you his, he wants you around, and even if he'd never admit it out loud... he's yours, too.

[rocorambles]

Redemption

Pairing: Ushijima x Reader

Genre: NSFW, Fluff and Smut

Warnings: Slight Size Kink

Summary: When you find out Ushijima is a virgin, you offer to be his first and help him out. But in reality, you might be the one who needs some help.

Requested by Anon

There’s a comfortable quiet atmosphere between the two of you as Ushijima hands you a clean towel while you pant for breath. Technically speaking, there’s no reason why the two of you need to be together today on one of the few days the Schweiden Adlers had off, but you had a soft spot for the pro-athlete, so when he had asked if you wanted to go workout together at the team training gym, you agreed. You couldn’t deny you needed some exercise. Being a team manager didn’t mean you worked out much yourself, so you looked forward to sweating some extra calories. But you really should have known better than to expect just a normal workout with Ushijima sternly overseeing your routine. 

“Ushijima, you do realize I’m not a pro-athlete like you, right? You can’t expect me to keep up with you.” 

“Anyone can do anything if they set their minds on it and work hard enough.” 

You roll your eyes before fondly looking at the tall man beside you. Was he a little dense and a little too blunt? Sure. But you saw the heart of gold and genuineness within him. You’d always wondered why the man was still single. You know he’s sometimes an idiot when it comes to social cues and can’t hold small talk to save his life, but you’d seen far worse and less deserving men end up tricking some poor damsel into their spider webs. Surely you’re not the only one who sees the diamond in the rough that Ushijima really is? 

You don’t realize you’re intensely staring at him until he uncomfortably shifts. “It’s rude to stare.” You blush and quickly turn away from him, opting to chug your water as a distraction. Checking your phone, you gasp when you realize how late it is. “Shit, sorry, I really need to run…” You trail off and Ushijima narrows his eyes at you as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. He’s all too aware that the look doesn’t mean anything good for him. 

“What are you doing tonight?”

There’s a long pause before he grunts out “nothing” and you suddenly seem more intimidating than any opponent he’s faced across the net when your eyes light up and your head moves until it’s only inches away from his own. 

“Cool! So you’re going to a party with me then.” 

He blinks once at you before completely shutting you down with a resounding no. But really, after knowing you and working in such close proximity with you almost every day, he should realize how relentless you are once your mind is made up. 

“When’s the last time you talked to anyone outside of the team, coaches, trainers, and managers? And Tendou doesn’t count since he’s still technically volleyball related.” 

Ok, so maybe you had a point there. 

“We don’t even have practice for the next few days! So you’ll have time to rest up and recover and be totally back to 100% for the next practice.” 

You smile when you see his determined look slip a bit, but your jaw drops at his next words. “I’m not going to a party where you’re just going to ditch me to have sex with someone and then either complain or brag about it to me the next day.” 

You frantically cover his mouth with your hands as you nervously look around to make sure no one around had heard him. “USHIJIMA! I tell you these things because I expect you to keep quiet about them. Not just blabber it out for everyone to hear.” 

He impassively stares at you and you sigh as you remove your hands from his face before determinedly looking at him again. “But actually since you’ve already brought it up, I noticed you never have any spicy stories to tell me! It’s not fair if I’m the one who’s always sharing. When’s the last time you even had sex? It has to be stressful to not let off some steam in a more enjoyable way than volleyball.”  (Although you secretly wonder if Ushijima finds volleyball more pleasurable than sex. You wouldn’t doubt it.) But you squint as he suddenly seems less stoic than usual and...are his cheeks pink? 

“Ushijima, are you embarrassed? I literally tell you about all my sex exploits and you’re embarrassed by me just asking you when the last time you did it was?” Your voice trails off when a suspicion begins to form and your eyes soften as you more gently nudge him. “It’s okay if it’s been a long time. I know how busy you are. It’s not a reflection of you, I promise. But isn’t that more reason to come out with me tonight?” He mumbles something and you lean in, unable to make out the words, but when he repeats them, you freeze. 

A virgin? Ushijima was a virgin? 

You know you should say something instead of just staring at him like an idiot, but shock numbs you and only when he makes a move to get up and leave do you hastily grab his arm. Your mouth flounders as you try to come up with a response, but when you observe how vulnerable and sensitive the topic seems to be for him, your heart goes out to your friend and you shake the lingering surprise from you. 

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. I think it’s kind of sweet actually. Your first time should be special, with someone you really care about. You shouldn’t ever feel ashamed about the fact that you haven’t done it. Hell, I wish I hadn’t been so quick to lose my virginity to some asshole in college.” 

You smile when you see his shoulders straighten and maybe it’s the slight upturned twitch of his lips or maybe it’s the way dark olive eyes glow when they look at you, but you don’t even register the words that come tumbling from your lips until they hang heavy in the air. 

“I could be your first if you wanted.” 

You are a fucking idiot. You scramble to figure out a way to take back those words, already preparing for Ushijima to angrily end any friendship the two of you had, already dreading how you’re going to manage a team when one of the starters hates you. Your mind is reeling so hard from the dark future you’ve painted for yourself in your head that you almost miss what Ushijima says. 

“Okay.” 

Suffice to say, all plans to go to your party fly out the window and you send an apologetic text to your friend. Ushijima and you go to your respective locker rooms to wash up and freshen up before trekking back to your apartment. The walk isn’t uncomfortable per se, but there’s an electric energy radiating between the two of you as you walk silently next to each other. And shit, you’re not the virgin, but why is your heart beating so hard and so fast that you think it might literally explode from your chest? You scowl at yourself as your hands tremble when you unlock and open your front door and when Ushijima’s back is turned to you as he removes his shoes, you mentally slap yourself to get it together. 

With renewed confidence, you firmly grasp his larger wrist and tug him along to your bedroom where you gently push him onto the bed. You take a moment to revel in the power you feel from being in charge of the stronger, larger man underneath you and arousal stirs within you from Ushijima’s submission and willingness to let you have your way with him. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him and your heart warms as you lean down to softly kiss him, smiling against his lips when you feel him tentatively reciprocate. Kissing Ushijima feels like what you imagine completing a satisfying day's work on the farm feels like. You can almost taste the sturdiness, the comforting warmth of a fireplace burning as you return from the fields, and the authentic, humble roots on his lips. There’s no frills, no pretenses. It’s purely Ushijima and you love it. 

You think you could spend all night just kissing him if you wanted to, but you remind yourself of tonight’s mission. You trail your fingers down his chest until you reach the hem of his shirt which you begin to roll up until it reaches the top of his torso and he helps you fully remove it. Sitting upright on his thighs, you can feel yourself salivate as you take in the broad expanse of his upper body on display for you. You’ve seen it before, but in the dim light of your bedroom and splayed across your bedsheets, it’s mesmerizing and you can’t help the way you unconsciously run your hands across every inch of taut muscle and kiss random lines across chiseled lines. You smirk when you feel Ushijima’s groin thrust up when you coyly flick a nipple with your tongue and you stare at him as you begin to suck on the hardening bud, drinking in the sight of the usually reserved man letting out breathy moans as you continue your ministrations.

You want to tease him more, coax more sounds out of him, but the feeling of something hard prodding your stomach keeps you moving on and you pointedly tug on the waistband of his pants until he gets the memo and raises his hips to allow you to remove everything until he’s completely bare before you. And any confidence you had built up shatters. 

If you’re entirely honest, you’d had your fair share of wet dreams imagining what Ushijima was hiding underneath his shorts, but when faced with reality that’s somehow even larger than anything you had even dreamt of, you bite your bottom nervously as your pussy clenches at the thought of trying to fit him inside of you. You’re not sure if it’s lust or nerves that has your stomach twisting as you wrap a hand around his impressive girth. Probably both, you think, as your throat goes dry and your thighs squeeze together when you see how your entire fist barely covers less than half of him. 

Your attention is brought back to the man underneath you when you hear a low groan as you stroke your fist up and down his shaft, giving some extra attention to the leaking slit at the tip. Your other hand reaches underneath your panties and circles your clit. You’ll need to be absolutely drenched before you can even think of trying to take him. But it’s not hard for your cunt to become a sopping mess when you stare in awe at the way Ushijima writhes underneath you, releasing low breathy pants and grunts that you can feel rumbling throughout his body. Already feeling a wet spot seeping through your clothes, you affectionately kiss him once more before briefly getting up to quickly strip down. His eyes hungrily devour the sight of your naked figure as you crawl back above him and adjust your position until you feel his tip nudging at your entrance. 

You close your eyes and moan as you slowly lower yourself onto him, but even as wet as you are, you can barely take half of him inside you as he stretches you far beyond any person or any toy has. Yet, despite the discomfort and borderline pain of the stretch, you feel even more of your arousal dripping down your thigh as you continuously lift and lower yourself, always pushing slightly harder, slightly further than where you’d been before. Your eyes roll back from the feeling of being so full and your nails dig into Ushijima’s shoulders as you desperately continue to work his entire length into you. But you reach your limit and you swear you can feel him inside of your womb even though there’s still about a quarter more of his cock waiting to penetrate you. You take a deep breath and exhale as you try to sink further down, but you let out a broken moan when fingers twist and tug your nipples. 

Ushijima intensely observes you as he kneads your fleshy mounds, playing with your hardened nubs until he sees the tiny furrow on your forehead smooth out. He sits up and bends his neck to soothingly kiss you. A primal instinct in him had been entranced at the sight of your much smaller figure struggling to take just a part of him and he had to use every bit of will power he had to not instantly cum at the feeling of your warm and wet walls squeezing around him. But when he saw the hints of pain you tried to push past written all over your face, a desire to make you feel only pleasure had overtaken him. 

He continues running his fingers across your chest as your tongues twist and turn against each other and you moan into his mouth as you reach a hand down to furiously rub against your clit until you feel another surge of arousal and more fluids run down your inner thigh. You guide his hands to your waist before continuing to rub your clit and you urge him to help you as you clash your lips against his once more. But you tear away from his mouth in a silent scream as he grabs you and forcefully pushes you down and down until your lower bodies press tightly against each other, any space between them removed. Ushijima’s eyes are glued to your face and he takes in the way your eyes widen and your jaw drops open as you claw at his arms, leaving angry red trails as your body tries to adjust to literally being stuffed full. He patiently waits until your nails stop their frantic clawing and he drops his forehead to your shoulder with a groan as you begin to rock your hips up and down. 

He can feel the sloppy mess you’re making as you continue to flood the sheets underneath with your seemingly never ending arousal, but he can’t bring himself to care as your pace speeds up until you’re practically bouncing in his lap as you desperately chase your end. You scream when he tightens his grip on your waist and assists you, slamming you down and easily picking you up before slamming you down again, perfectly matching your rhythm until everything blends together and you don’t even know who’s doing what anymore. All you know is the feeling of Ushijima’s cock sliding and pressing against every inch and every crevice of your pussy, filling you so well you wonder if you’ll ever be satisfied with anything else inside of you after this. 

You can’t even bring yourself to feel ashamed by the wanton wail you let out as you reach a higher peak than you’ve ever reached before and your entire body shakes with pleasure as Ushijima continues to lift and lower your body even without any support from you until he harshly pushes you down one last time and holds you still as he releases thick spurts deep inside of you, so deep that even in the haze of your orgasm you’re grateful you’re on birth control because you’re sure he’s coating your actual womb with how far inside he seems to reach. You slump into his chest and let yourself be maneuvered by him until the two of you are lying side by side, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected. 

The two of you lay there for a while and you instinctively nuzzle your face into his chest as his arms tenderly wrap around you, pulling you even closer to him and you both take quiet comfort in the sounds of your heavy breaths filling the air. But when your heart beats slow and your breathing evens out, you cringe in embarrassment. 

“Ushijima, I’m so sorry. This was your first time. I should have been the one taking care of you, but you ended up needing to step in and take charge.” There’s a stretch of silence before you feel one of his arms move and a hand lightly nudges your head up to look at him. Your heart flutters when you see the most gentle smile you’ve ever seen on his face.  

“Wakatoshi. Call me Wakatoshi.”

You see a flash of uncertainty in his usually confident eyes as he hesitantly inches his face closer to yours, but you grin as you meet him halfway and your lips slot against each other like two puzzle pieces perfectly connecting. You close your eyes and relish the peaceful moment for a bit before using the element of surprise and pushing against him until he’s on his back underneath you once more. You playfully clench your pussy walls and smirk at the way he throws his head back and hisses at the feeling. You can feel him begin to harden once more inside of you and when he looks back at you, you shoot a wink his way. 

“Let me redeem myself, Wakatoshi.”  

[idontevwnknowwhatimdoing]

Ahhh I actually did it. I wrote a story. Here is a short story, I may expand on it later. Introducing two new OC’s, Darcy and Haluth.

Darcy: sailor, out on a trip when they sailed into deep waters where many had gone but none had come back. His ship was sunk, he woke up in an underwater cave where he met Haluth.

Haluth: an ancient sea deity who sinks any ship that gets too close, he takes a liking to and keeps Darcy.

Hope you enjoy

—————

I wince as my eyes crack open, where the fuck am I, everything hurts, it’s hard to move. I manage to lift myself up and look around, I can nearly make out the surroundings of a cave, the distant sound of dripping and running water can be heard in all directions.

I hear something move behind me, Something big. “Who’s there” I croak out, my voice hurts. I notice a glowing coming from a pool of water nearby, quickly growing. I back away but I am met with a cold slimy wall.

Whatever is in the water starts to emerge, massive tentacle like limbs coming towards me, I freeze.

“W-Wait” I try to yell, the limbs stop “uh, please don’t hurt me” I say. Unable to think of anything else. A loud echoing laughter bounces around the cave “hurt you?” The voice says “now why would I do that”.

The beast pulls itself out of the water. It is easily the size of a small ship. It creeps closer me, it’s glowing eyes latching onto me, rendering me unable to move. “I don’t want to hurt you Darcy”. It says, now almost face to face with me. “How do you know my name” I half yell. It chuckles “now now, no need to be upset, I saved your life” it says looking me over.

I feel a tentacle creeping up my leg, wrapping itself around “who are you?” I demand, it grabs my face and pulls me close, out faces almost touching “so many questions” is sighs “fine, my name is Haluth, this is my domain” he gestures, “and you are now mine Darcy”

I almost didn’t catch that last part, but before I can talk, the tentacle around my leg tightens and hoists me up another one joining in to secure my other leg. Blood starts rushing to my head “what was that for?” I yell, it grabs my face and pulls me in, he kisses me deeply and passionately, I am overcome with so many feelings, I barely even notice the other tentacles grabbing my arms and torso, he realises my face and flips me up again.

“I like you Darcy, your intoxicating, I think you will be perfect” he says with a smirk grabbing and kissing me again. I am left no time to think as my clothes are being torn from my body, leaving me completely vulnerable, he wraps a smaller limb around my dick as another begins to caress my asshole. I open my mouth “wha-“ but it is quickly filled with another tentacle.

Soon the tenticle caressing me begging to poke at my opening. “Stay still my dear, I don’t want to hurt you”. As he finishes those words his member plunges deep inside of me I let out a muffled scream as it starts to pulse inside of me. The one in my mouth starts to move in and out, faster and faster.

Haluth let’s put a gasping moan and the limb inside my mouth shoots out a warm liquid, quickly filling my insides and making me feel so full, I try to glance down only to see a little bump has formed where my flat stomach was a second ago, I let out a squeal only stopped my the member down my throat, it is slowly pulled out leaving a shiny bluish liquid in its path, drooling out of my mouth. “Now you are ready” Haluth chuckles, he leans in placing two human like hands on my chest, searching all over my body as if looking for something. I try to speak but only blubbering mumbles come out

The tenticle in my ass starts to pulsate more, pumping in and out faster, thrusting deeper than I ever thought possible. Haluth is panting and groaning as I am over taken with pleasure. He goes faster and harder as his hands explore every inch of my body. My cock so rock hard I don’t think it will ever go down.

A think warm substance starts to spill from the appendage inside me, his lips meet mine and I feel it. Something thick and heavy passing through his penis, into me, it comes out of me and I feel it drop inside me. Was…. Was that an egg?

My legs are spread as far as they can possibly go as he starts to grunt harder. Another one, then another. The feeling is intense and in describable. He leans down and leaves a bite on my neck, another egg is laid inside of me. He keeps pumping and moaning, I can’t hold back anymore. I let out a cry of pleasure. Another one is planted, at this point I don’t know how many are in there. My stomach feels heavy and he is beginning to slow.

With one last pump his final egg is laid. We both pant as we linger there. His head resting on my shoulder. What just happened?

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

Azulaang-Tai Chi

Azulaang Week Day 2 somewhat SFW Dialogue and Essay

@azulaang-week-2021

Azula woke to the sight of a still asleep Aang next to her, with her own arms around his torso and head on his chest. Their clothing all over the floor. As quietly as she could, Azula slowly moved away from Aang and was getting out of bed, careful not to disturb Aang. Azula was looking down on her side of the bed but quickly turned around as Aang sleepily moved his back upward and his face now mushed on the pillow. Azula was able to see the massive scar on his back. She immediately felt some guilt and a very mild flashback of her stunt in ba sing se. Her nightmarish grin she made while doing the deed still haunts her. But quickly began shaking her head to get rid of those thoughts and turned away. She finds her red robe underneath the leather rider crop, human-sized collar with a leash and fake hand-cuffs. She slipped on the robe and went to the living room. Azula then started some tai chi.

Aang: (with only a towel on) “I gotta say. I’m loving the show.”

Azula: “It’s not much, just doing a little tai chi. You know how certain folks look 30 until they’re 60? This is why. Of course then they suddenly look 100 but cross that bridge, ya know?”

Aang: “Is this another fire nation thing?”

Azula: “More like water tribe. The fire nation have a whole other thing going on.”

Aang: “We should probably get ready. There about to reveal Republic city’s metal bending police force and department managed by Toph.”

Azula: “Let me guess, there will be another statue but one of Blindy, just like they had statues of you and I holding a scepter with mixture of insignias from all nations on the top. I still can’t get over the idea of "the rule breaker” enforcing laws. That idea is irony at best or hypocritical at worst.“

Aang almost brought up the irony of her trying to kill him and nearly succeeded but stopped himself so he wouldn’t make her feel insecure again bringing up any triggers from her dark past. Azula stops her Tai Chi as Aang goes behind her, wraps his arms around her stomach, pulls her in closer and places his chin on her shoulder.

Aang: "I don’t think it’s anything like the latter. Years of adventures around the world and trying to help it can change us. You and I are the ones who are still freelancers while everyone else has committed careers.”

Azula: “hmph. That’s a plus for us. Using peace and world traveling methods to dominate the earth. Not my usual cup of tea but it’s all I got and what I’m willing to work with. And I don’t mind the popularity we’re getting. For the first time, everyone’s actually adoring me the right way. I used to think fear was the only thing to get adoration until I was proven how dead wrong I was and I did NOT take it well as you can remember.”

Aang: “Being proven wrong can make us feel down. Denial is common response but it never lasts. Believe me. I’ve been there.”

Azula: “Whatever. If at some point I see a statue of an overweight tigerdillo with moon crescents for eyes wearing an earth kingdom crown that says long live the revolution pouring a bucked that says alternative minimum economy over a sad statue of a Kemekage holding a democracy umbrella, then I’d think they might going a tad bit too far with this statue thing.”

Aang: (laughs) Yeah, that outa wake people up. Your so clever and imaginative as always.“

Azula rolled her eyes. But was flattered as always.

Azula: "I just hope these ‘metal cops’ will be easier to hang around with then the Dai Li. Those guys were stiffer then the stiffs back at the fire nation.”

[rose-blooms-red]

Significant Others/troopers under their command react to Edee's latest volley of obnoxious gifts :D

Did I start this 3 months ago? Yes. Did I also write over 2k of it Today? Also yes. Productivity is a Relative Term. 

[read on ao3]

Fox twitches as he reads the clearly handmade voucher. Says, pleasant as anything, “I’m going to fucking murder him.”

Ponds hums, looking over Fox’s shoulder, “It’s sweet. Probably.”

Fox makes a noise in the back of his throat that isn’t entirely describable by any known language. 

Does he still have that clock he found during that one shopping trip? The one with that awful fucking peach, mustard, and grey-blue combination that spat out an eeopie’s mating call every half hour? He’d been planning on saving it he remembers but—

“Telling you to take a break like that,” Ponds continues, like he can’t hear the way Fox’s higher reasoning is currently dying a slow painful death, “very considerate.”

Fox grits his teeth. Needs must, and Fox needs to crush the little fucker’s spirit thoroughly under heel. He’ll have to take it out of storage tomorrow.

“No.”

Ponds giggles, “I’m sure it’ll be entertaining at least.”

“Hondo,” Fox reiterates, digging his elbow back into Ponds’ stomach. 

Ponds drapes himself over Fox’s back, knocks the side of his head against Fox’s, “As I said,” he simpers, “entertaining.”

Fox makes a disgusted sound, sneers down at the offending…. Gift.

‘All expense-paid cruise on the Hondo Ohkana ‘Sights of The Galaxy’ tour!!!!!!’ It proclaims in neon colours and excessive exclamation marks, ‘Very Romantic and Exciting!’

“When’s it say it’s good for?” Ponds asks, like he’s actually contemplating it.

“No.”

Ponds snatches the voucher out of his hands anyway, “Oh good! We aren’t busy that ten-day.”

Fox’s hand twitches, “I am not getting on a fucking ship with fucking Hondo Ohkana, Ponds.”

“Mhm, ‘course not Fox.” Ponds responds absentmindedly, pats his arm lightly in the way that means they are definitely getting on the fucking ship with fucking Hondo Ohkana, “We’ve got a ten-day to pack and get everything in order, that should be enough.” He nods to himself, breezes out of the room with a vague sense of purpose as he flits around the house, presumably for things to take on a ‘very romantic and exciting’ trip.

Fox is going to murder somebody, preferably Hondo, or Neyo. 

He hears the sound of Ponds grabbing the DC-15A’s and he grimaces, ugh, time to find the fucking holdout blasters, those things haven’t been serviced in at least a ten-day, and he needs to check on the blaster packs for the DC-17’s. He can’t remember if he restocked the things after the last time he used them. 

If they’re going on the fucking trip, they’re gonna be well fucking stocked.

(Fox manages not to murder Hondo, but it’s a very near fucking thing.

He does come back from the trip in a much better mood though, other than the twitch he’s developed from listening to Hondo all day. Ponds is annoyingly amused and smug about it. Fox ignores it, like he does every other fucking annoyance in his life. 

He shuts down the talk of another trip like it happening any time in this fucking century before Ponds even opens his mouth to respond. Once was fucking enough thank you.)

__________

Colt closes his eyes, casts a net about his mind for a sliver of patience and finds his supply has dwindled something awful.

When he opens his eyes again both nuisance and potted plant are still there. Gree smiles winningly and Colt smells danger. 

Or maybe he just smells the plant, because that is the thing overwhelming everything else right now. He glares down at it, it looks harmless, mostly, in it’s large pot but already Colt can hear the sounds of flies swarming around.

“That is not a houseplant,” Colt says, relatively tamely in his opinion, given that the overwhelming smell it emits is decay, “that is the type of plant one shoots and hopes doesn't survive the encounter.”

“It’s a very rare and endangered plant,” Gree lies, grin earnest and eyes bright with humour.

“It’s a pile of banthashit dressed up in vegitive form.”

“It’s an Amorphophallus titanum,” Gree corrects, “and it’s very rare, it’s one of the largest unbranched inflorescence in the galaxy that isn’t also carnivorous in any shape or form.”

Colt gives the plant a dubious look, “I’ll believe that when it doesn’t smell like it just ate and digested something.”

Gree shrugs, “It’s possible it’s a type of carrion flower…. but in the name of protecting it from extinction there’s no one I’d trust more than you.”

Colt twitches, he has no clue what a carrion flower is or how that accounts for the way it smells like Colt has a pile of corpses rotting away on his front step, but he does not like it at all.

The worst part is that he can’t actually tell whether this is Gree being serious or him pulling a shithead move. Because this is exactly the type of thing Gree would genuinely do and also the type of thing Gree would do just to fuck with him.

Behind him someone gags and Colt twitches.

“Fine,” he grits out, and Gree’s smile tries for sunshine and comes up partly cloudy and fully shiteating.

“Wonderful, thanks Colt.”

“Please leave.” 

Gree laughs as he leaves and Colt closes the door with a sigh.

“It smells like someone died over there,” Blitz calls out and Colt groans.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Havoc sniggers, “It really does sir, we might have to keep the Little’s away for a few days, wouldn’t want one of ‘em puking.”

Colt winces, that image does enough to convince him of the necessity, the only thing that could be worse right now is over a dozen Little’s sicking up from the smell. “Might be for the best.”

Blitz hums, looking at the now closed door in interest, “How likely is it that he was pulling your leg?”

Colt slumps into his chair, “50/50” he admits and Blitz raises his eyebrows.

“That is almost more concerning. What the kriff did they put in your batch.”

“Mistakes,” Colt grumbles back. This is why he’s the oldest, he’s the only one in the entire batch who managed to wrangle any sense out of his tube and keep it all the way through.

Havoc laughs and Blitz snorts, then looks like he immediately regrets it, “Ugh, Colt your batch is full of sadists I’m not gonna get the smell out of my nose for weeks.”

“It’s probably seeped into the clothes at this point,” Havoc agrees and Colt groans.

(When Shaak comes home she takes one look at the plant and can’t seem to decide whether to grimace or smile.

“Apparently,” he drawls, “it’s a very endangered plant that’s been entrusted to my care.”

A burst of laughter ripples out into the room and Shaak smiles, hand covering her lips as her shoulders shake minutely, Colt forgets about the death plant for a second as he looks up at her, heart stopping for a moment in the split second it takes her to swallow her laughter back down and he wants nothing more than to pull that sound out from her again.

It takes him a minute to realize that at some point he’d started smiling. He can’t seem to stop it, but there are worse things to find himself unable to stop doing.

“It’s commonly known as a type of carrion flower,” she tells him finally, laughter lacing her tone, “otherwise known as a corpse flower for the smells they produce. It is not endangered, though there are those who agree that it might not be too much of a loss if it was.”

Colt groans. Shaak giggles and Colt finds himself forgetting for a second to plot his revenge.

Maybe Gree will get off a bit lighter this time, if only because Colt got to hear that bright laughter. 

He hums, “Plant it far, far, far away from the house?” Shaak smiles, presses a kiss to his forehead.

“That, my dear Colt, sounds like a brilliant plan.”)

__________

Gree gives the box a look of suspicious distrust that makes Barriss giggle and Decker snicker. 

It’s a big box, about the size of his torso and Gree has seen that bland, even smile too many times before to trust the contents of the box.

“Fox,” he warns and Fox’s grin goes sickeningly sweet.

“Gree, Baby Brother Dearest,” he drawls and Gree can hear the capital letters what the fuck, “I put my heart and soul into this you know, I’m hurt, really I am.”

That, Gree thinks sourly, is the worst load of banthashit he’s ever heard, and he’s had to listen to ‘scientific lectures’ given by people who read maybe one Edupad and then promptly forgot all of the information in the Edupad and decided whatever half-remembered thing left was Fact and Truth and refused to listen to Reason…. or sources and cited works.

Gree was very annoyed about that one, he’d put Effort into that paper thank you very much and he’d taken the class to learn things, not whatever that had been.

Fox wiggles the box in his hands around, expression pleasant and smile sharp.

Gree sighs. At least, he assures himself as he takes the box, it won’t be as bad as whatever happened after Fox and Ponds had come back from Neyo’s…… Gift.

Maybe.

The box is squishy. Boxes are not supposed to be squishy.

Gree has a Bad Feeling about this. He raises an eyebrow, Fox doesn’t even twitch.

Behind him Barriss is watching the exchange with wide, mirth filled eyes and a hand covering her mouth. Decker has long since lost the battle of keeping his snickering quiet and the rest of Gree’s so called loyal troopers of Green company watch with rapt attention.

He sighs again, loud and long-suffering, Fox’s smile never shrinks a shade less than serial killer pleased.

Gree unwraps the wrapping flimsi with ease, and then stares with distant horror at the plasti-cling underneath it. Not a box, no, plasti-cling.

It’s layered.

Gree twitches and reaches for one of his vibroblades.

“It’s very delicate,” Fox informs him, just as he gets the vibroblade out of it’s holder.

“Oh?” Gree asks, really quite pleasantly given the plasti-cling is so layered he can’t see a damn thing through it.

“Extremely,” Fox confirms, deadpan. Behind him Barriss giggles uncontrollably and Decker is flushed with laughter and gasping for air and the others aren’t much better. 

“Do they always do this?” one of them whispers incredibly poorly, Gree twitches, Fox eyes him with that malicious amusement that cements his place as youngest forever in Gree’s head.

“Always,” Barriss whispers back, giggling still and Gree’s heart warms for a second before his impending humiliation via gift settles in again.

“I knew the Commander wasn’t only, you know, learny, but I always thought he was sane.”

“Oh he’s sane,” Cooker reassures, “far as we can tell their entire batch is just, Like That.”

“But this is Torrent lev—” Fox’s face gives an unpleasant twitch that Gree sympathizes with.

Torrent, ugh.

“Shhhh,” the rest of Green hisses and Barriss hides her head in her hands as she laughs.

“We don’t compare them to Torrent, makes them touchy,” Draa mutters, as if he isn't half the reason Gree goes into interactions with Torrent prepared to have engineering go on another crazed building spree. He has a hunch that they feed on each other, the engineers, and it's their own special kind of crazy that Gree is half fascinated by and half resigned to.

“My point stands.” 

Gree grits his teeth, narrows his eyes at Green Company as a whole to no avail, turns a raised eyebrow to Barriss in a last attempt at gaining control of a situation he’d lost all hold over the moment Fox had walked up to him with a ‘gift from the bottom of my heart, Gree’.

His cold dead heart maybe. Gree is plotting his revenge already.

He puts the blade back with mechanical motions, feels around for the beginning of the despised plasti-cling, seriously who made it Gree has complaints for them, and begins the arduous task of unwrapping it all.

Who let Fox have this much plasti-cling.

(Over 10 hours of nonstop focus later the last of the plasti-cling has finally been ripped away and Gree stares at the new puzzle cube. Ugly and about the size of his palm. Much, much smaller than the wrapping he’d been given, nearly the size of his torso.

Gree makes a strangled sound that he will forever deny, Draa. 

The plasti-cling sits around him tauntingly, viciously victorious in all it’s piled glory.

It takes 3 days for Green Company to stop laughing about it. It does not take 3 days for them to stop sharing the holopics and vids they took, that takes much longer.

Barriss is Gree’s favourite now, everyone else is awful and everything they say is lies, and Fox has been demoted to all the way to being the baby.)

__________

Neyo tilts his head, grin bordering manic, “That, is the ugliest piece of garbage I’ve ever seen.”

Colt smiles, “It’s high class art.”

“It looks like someone took cans of paint and dumped them on the nearest patch of dirt they found.” 

“The texture adds value.”

“It’s chunks of dirt and grass.” Neyo hisses in delighted outrage. 

Colt waves a hand, voice disinterested and all ‘above all this nonsense’ like, “Very classy. Made with only the best of intentions.”

Neyo giggles, “It looks like actual manure, I hate it.”

“I got it just for you,” Colt simpers, like the little shit no one ever believes he is, “I saw it and just knew you’d connect to it.”

Neyo cackles, “This is awful, you’re awful, I’m hanging it on the wall and telling everyone you painted it.”

Colt raises an eyebrow, “No one will believe you.”

He’s right, it’s awful. Neyo pouts, “I could convince them.”

No he can’t, but that’s besides the point.

Colt hums, “mhm, I’m sure you could kih’vod.”

Neyo flicks at Colt’s wrist and wilts, “This is harassment.”

“Whatever you say Ney’ika.”

“You’re a bully.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t believe anyone thinks you’re responsible.”

“That is because I am.” Colt says, putting Neyo in a headlock, they both ignore the way Neyo tenses up for a fraction of a second before he relaxes, sulks, digging his elbow into Colt’s side.

It’s the first time Colt has given him such a blatantly awful gift. Neyo cackles and something shakes loose in his chest. His throat feels grossly tight and the stupid shitty canvas covered in dirt and paint sits leaning against the wall innocently.

Colt makes the same even face he uses on the Little’s when they’re being hilarious and he can’t afford to tell them or when he’s about to say something completely karking stupid because no matter how much he likes to tell everyone he’s the oldest he totally isn’t. 

Neyo slips out of the headlock, giggles through the knot in his throat and rolls his eyes.

“You’re deluding yourself and everyone around you.” he tells Colt. Colt has only ever been responsible by necessity, and never once in all of Neyo’s memories of him, has he been anything less than an absolute shithead just like the rest of them when there was no necessity.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m not arguing with you like a first-cycle.”

“Are too.”

“Neyo.”

“You’re the one who gave me the shitty painting.”

“It’s high class art you bastard.”

Neyo preens, “Thank you, still the worst thing I’ve ever seen though. Might hang it up in the front room, just to really bring it all together.”

Colt sighs, aggrieved. Neyo has no sympathy for him, really if you’re gonna play the game you gotta be in it to win it. It’s not Neyo’s fault that the trashy, awful, horrible dirt, grass, paint mixture splattered onto canvas happens to be horrifyingly tasteless. Neyo loves it. It’s gonna make Fox so mad.

(“Neyo,” Vaughn asks, staring at the wall, “why is there a, what even is that, dirt? On canvas?”

Neyo straightens up, grins wide, “Colt painted it. Out of the love in his heart and the limited talents he was decanted with.”

Vaughn raises an eyebrow, “That’s lovely and everything, why is it hanging in our front room.”

“It is horrifically awful and I love it and Fox and Ponds are coming over tomorrow.”

Vaughn laughs.

The next day, Ponds takes one look at it and giggles, “Fox, Fox come here, you’re gonna hate it.”

Fox takes one look at it and walks right back out of the house, Neyo cackles the entire time.)

[raph-and-spike]

My Hero - Mikey x fem!reader

requested? yes/no

“Well i just found your blog and im super excited to see where this goes! My request is April has a cousin the turtles have heard of but never met and before they finally do she warns them that shes a little reserved, keeps to herself but over time when she warms up shes super dorky and like mikey? Idk if that makes sense. Just some fluffy michelangelo x reader 😅”

a/n: My first request! I was sooo excited for this one! I kinda took it in a different direction, but I tried to keep it as close to your request as possible. I can’t wait to write all of the other requests you guys have sent me!

warnings: none :)

“Oh my God, that movie was crazy!” April exclaimed. 

You had just moved back to New York two weeks prior, and your favorite redheaded cousin invited you to see a movie with her and her boyfriend friend, Casey–much to his dismay–which you’d been thankful for; April was the only person you knew at school. 

As someone who tended to keep to yourself, April was aware of your anti-social tendencies, and she’d do everything to avoid it. She was determined to make New York City actually feel like home. 

“Eh,” Casey shrugged. “It was alright. I don’t really see the hype.”

April rolled her eyes. “Don't pretend that we didn’t see you jump at all the jump-scares, Casey.”

Casey grinned. “You paying attention that closely to me, Red? You must like me or something.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched the two bicker back and forth.

“Shut it, Jones,” she rolled her eyes. 

A crash behind you made the three of you jump and turn around instinctively. Though, nothing could be visible. 

“What the hell was that?” you muttered to yourself. The eery streets of the city at night had yet to make you feel welcome.

Suddenly, what had looked like slender robots in black robes began sprinting toward you three, jumping out behind trash cans and street corners. Your heart sank to your stomach at the scene in front of you, your body frozen in shock.

“Footbots!” April screamed, exchanging looks with Casey. “Casey, get Y/n back home, I’ll handle them!”

Casey raised his eyebrows. “What?! No way, Red! You go home with Y/n, I’ll handle it.” He grabbed one of his hockey sticks and charged at the Footbots, leaving you not knowing what to do.

April grabbed what looked like a steel fan from her pocket and began fighting as well; it was a sight you never thought you’d ever see.

“Y/n, run!” April shouted over the sounds of steel against steel, and hockey sticks against cement.

You began running in the opposite direction of the chaos, in the direction of your home. Though it’d take about another ten minutes to get there, you were eager to do anything you had to get away from what you'd just witnessed.

You weren’t able to get far before one of the robots appeared in front of you, causing you to stumble back onto the cement. Your eyes wide with fear, staring at the huge being towering over you with a sword in hand. As it raised its sword, a blade sliced across its torso with a quickness you would have missed if you weren’t watching so intently. As the robot’s body fell in half onto the pavement in front of you, another being with green skin and a blue mask appeared, holding the katana that had saved your life. 

“Woah,” was all you could manage, staring at it. Green speckled skin, a plastron and a shell...was it a turtle? 

It left, fighting off the rest of the bots with three more that looked just like it, all with different colored masks and different weapons. Your heart was racing, you could feel your body pulsating with the very beat of your heart as the fight ensued. 

“Guys,” one of them spoke up. “Splinter’s not gonna be too happy about another human knowing about us.”

They can talk?

The four turtles and your two friends looked your way as your eyes rolled back and you felt your head hit the pavement before falling into unconsciousness.

You woke up in your bed, your redheaded cousin sitting at the foot of your bed. You groaned, your hand going to the back of your head where gauze had been placed. 

“Y/n,” April began, her voice soft. “We need to talk.”

“What happened last night?” you moaned, your vision spinning as the pain in the back of your head increased.

She grabbed a glass of water on your nightstand and handed it to you.

“Here,” she kept her hands on your own to ensure that you were holding it tight enough, tipping it back as you gulped. 

She stared down at her fingers, fumbling with them. This was a nervous habit you’d remembered your cousin having for as long as you could remember. But why would she be nervous, you thought to yourself. 

“Last night–”

“I saw something,” you interrupted. “Or some things,” you corrected, goosebumps rising along your arms as you thought about the turtles.

April sighed. “I know.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What exactly were they? And what was attacking us?”

And so she began.

She told you everything; the turtles, Master Splinter, Shredder, the Kraang, mutagen. It was a moment of trust, a moment of trusting in one of her favorite people–one of the only people she had left.

“And now that you’re going to be living here,” April began.

“Then I should learn how to defend myself,” you finished for her.

She nodded, letting out a sympathetic sigh. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this.”

You shook your head, grabbing her hands to hold within your own. “’United we stand, divided we fall’,” you quoted, a quote both your parents had said to you multiple times as children. “If you need another addition to your army, then count me in.”

As you both walked through the tunnels of the sewers, you kept your nose plugged.

“Does the smell get any better?” you groaned.

She nodded. “You get used to it; I had to live down here for a few weeks.”

You nearly gagged at the thought, before entering the lair.

There they were, once again. The red masked one was punching a large punching bag, the blue masked one was sitting in front of a television whilst the orange masked one sat next to him, pizza in hand. Pizza?! The fourth one was nowhere in sight. 

April gestured. “Y/n, these are the turtles,” she pointed to the red masked one, “that’s Raph,” she pointed to the blue masked one, “Leo,” she pointed to the orange masked one, “Mikey,” she paused, looking around. 

“Where’s Don-”

“Hi, April!” a voice exclaimed, nearly scurrying over to you both with a blush painted on his cheeks.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “And, that’s Donnie.”

Supposedly, after getting permission to bring you to the lair from Master Splinter, she’d warned them that you were coming. 

Leo looked over, his eyes finally peeling away from his show with a smile. “How’s your head feeling?” he asked, walking toward you.

You shrugged, gently blushing at the sudden attention. “It’s, uh, better now, but I don't think I hit it too hard to begin with.”

“Actually,” Donnie spoke, “the impact wasn’t enough to cause a lot of bleeding, but it'll be bruised for the next couple of days.”

You frowned. “W-were you the one who took care of my head?”

He nodded, invisible eyebrows furrowed in query. 

“Oh, thanks,” you said softly, “it’s healing really fast.”

He blushed, about to say something in return before his orange-masked brother interrupted him by running up to you.

“Well,” Mikey began, “I was the one who saved you a slice of pizza!”

The gang groaned in disgust; the slice of pizza had lint, worms, and an undetectable bug species sitting on top of the cheese. 

“Mikey, did you get that from under your bed?!” Leo scoffed.

Mikey smirked. “Mayybeee,” he eyed the slice. “It’s still good though, I think.”

He grinned at you, but could see the disgust in your appearance. He hung his head. “I guess I’ll just eat it,” he sighed.

You felt horrible, but in all honesty, the sight alone made your stomach churn. 

“Y/n,” you heard, distracting you from the moldy pizza.

You looked up, seeing the one and only Master Splinter. He looked completely different than how you’d pictured him in your head; he was much taller than you expected. He walked closer to you, until you were just feet apart. 

“April has told me a lot about you,” he began, his voice soothing to the ear. “I hope that you fulfill my wish to keep my sons and I a secret.”

You nodded. “Of course, urm, Master Splinter.”

He nodded, before calling the turtles to train with him.

“See you latah, Dudette,” Mikey bid with a wink, before running off to train with his brothers.

April looked at you, an eyebrow cocked at the deep blush on your cheeks.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“Nothing, Dudette,” April mocked with a grin.

You began to spend multiple days of the week at the lair with April and Casey, even bringing your homework down there after school; Master Splinter offered to train you, and you obliged. Mikey would be over your shoulder, asking you questions about your homework even after Leo had told him to give you some personal space. 

But you began to feel comfortable with the turtles, and you started to open up and reveal your personality. 

“Hey Mikey,” you announced, walking up to him in the kitchen. “Want to go train with me?”

You could have sworn that his pupils grew the size of bowling balls, and he was there with his nunchucks in no time.

You began training with the turtles, almost always with Mikey, though he refused to fight back or hit you. You’d share a pizza after, watch television, and eventually take a nap before he’d have to leave for patrol.

“You’re getting so good, Dudette!” he exclaimed after training, shoveling pizza slices into his mouth.

You blushed. “Thanks, Mikey...” You rolled your eyes as you watched him finish the box to himself. “Do we really have to eat pizza everyday?” 

“Yesss,” he said in a sing-song voice. “I love days like this; it’s my two favorite things!”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“You and pizza, duh!” 

Your cheeks heated up, and you pressed a kiss onto his green freckled cheek.

“Thanks, Mikey. You know, if it weren't for you and your brothers saving me from those Footbots, then I wouldn't even be here,” you pointed out.

He grinned. “That makes me, like, a hero!”

You planted a kiss onto his lips, causing him to nearly melt into the floor.

“My hero,” you corrected.

[whump-town]

It’s A Wonderful Life

Part One & Part Two

Have a great night everyone! 

There’s smoke hissing its ascension to the sky. Thick and black near the hood of the car but as it goes up he finds he can’t track it much further than a few feet. It wisps off, sweltering to nothing. The world has sunken into this pitter-patter of noises. The soft tink, tink, tink of cooling metal and engines filling the air.

Letting his eyes slide shut, Aaron falls.

Haley.

a cold hand brushes down his cheek

she looks down at him, her kind smile

she says something to him… he loses it

He blinks his eyes open, blood-caked to the corners. It’s sticky, thickly hardening all over his face. He can taste it on his tongue, down the back of his throat. Which aches from the smoke burning his airway. He coughs hard, jostling his sore body, and for a moment he finds himself hovering. Unable to breathe in as his body tenses. His vision dancing black dots as the pain threatens to pull him back under.

Gasping he wraps his right arm around his torso, crying out when his trembling fingers hit raw, split skin. He closes his eyes, trying to force himself to calm down. Breathe. He just needs to breathe and the rest will come along. Though it hurts to expand his chest and his throat tries to close around itself he forces steady breaths.

Holding it in each lungful… and releasing it as slowly as he can. Steady.

Something rustles behind him and he remembers Jack-- if his heart is racing, fear nearly overcoming every tactical and first-aide training rule he’s ever been taught then Jack has to be terrified. It hits him, that the severity of his own wounds can not be the priority. No matter what happens has to stay awake. Has to be present so that someone can explain to Jack what’s going on. So that he gets out of here.

“Jack?” The crack of his own voice startles him and he knows Jack doesn’t like it either. Jack whimpers softly behind Hotch, kicking his little foot out in protest. Great, he thinks, solid one, Aaron. Rasping and slurring his son’s name is not the best way to connect. He clears his throat, needing a moment to recover as he puts all of his energy into steadying himself. To sound confident, of a sound body. “Buddy? You okay?”

He’s not sure what exactly it is that he’s expecting. There’s no way Jack’s going to use sign language, he doesn’t even know the sign for okay and if he did Hotch wouldn’t be able to see it.

The realization of what he has to do… is too much.

He pulls in a shaking breath, frustrated with himself. He can feel himself slipping, losing his facilities. The strain produces sharp pain in his chest but he ignores it. Forcing his right hand off of his side he tries to wipe the blood off of it, rubbing his palm into his dress pants. Then, despite how deeply his chest aches, he forces his arm back. Slipping it back until he comes in contact with one of those light-up sketchers.

Jack giggles and taps his foot against Hotch’s fingers.

To think he’d thought those shoes were impractical…

He winces, holding his breath as a wave of intense pain spreads across his chest. A stabbing pain that leaves him lightheaded. “Jack…” he tries to lift his head. To force himself to stay awake but with a muffled grunt his eyes roll into the back of his head. Body limply leaning to the right.

aaron?

haley draws lazy patterns into his bare hip, smiling at him

he opens his mouth-- a question on the tip of his tongue

she smiles and leans close, silencing him with a gentle kiss

her fingers slip up the back of his head

“stay here,” she whispers, “just a moment longer”

self-preservation has never been his finest skill

The windshield is a spiderwebbed mess.

This isn’t the first time that he has been trapped between a steering wheel and a splintering windshield. His history with Bureau lent SUV’s and using them like federal grade battering rams is well known-- something either gets him a little heat or a strangely approving nod.

Through the windshield, he sees an accumulation of red. Not the splatter of his blood on the glass but the cars. A firetruck pulling up just feet away with a mighty puff of exertion and the great low hum of the engine.

His ears, never having healed properly after the bombing in New York, a ring with a sharp ache. Crying, strained borderline screaming shakes the car. His chest aches with the intensity of it. Stomach twisting sickly with each miserably, pitched, nearly choked inhale.

Jack.

Jack is kicking at his hand, blindly lost to isolation. Unable to communicate, probably overstimulated. Everything just keeps so loud and Hotch can’t stand that he can’t do anything to help. He doesn’t have anything, actually. Not those ear muffs Garcia spent so long researching, that muffle out all the sound. They’d had a bit of trouble trying to find the right size.

He-- He always about the things that Jack needs. Extra socks and pants and one of those knit hats that he likes to wear regardless of the season. Hotch thinks he likes to feel the pressure against his ears. Jack likes to crawl into his lap and place one of Hotch’s hands over each of his ears. He feels immense understanding for his son in these moments. Rocking back and forth and making the happiest little noises...

He needs to do something. Find it within himself to get out. He can calm Jack down, he just needs to get back there.

All he manages is a choked inhale, Jack’s poor little sobs breaking as makes himself breathless. Gagging, weakly trying to spit the copper taste in his mouth, Hotch chokes on the thick warm blood sliding down his throat.

“you’re scaring me, aaron.”

he looks at her…

trying to make every detail of her face a permanent fixture in his mind

the blonde hair that he was so glad that Jack got

better that he look like her

Haley is everything sweet; the only good thing he ever had

and Jack is so much like her gentle and loving

“aaron?”

he leans into her touch, “I’m okay”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Two hands brace both sides of his neck, at the base. Hands padded by thick gloves. “Brown-eyed boy!” the other man greets. “How’s your head feeling, big fella?”

Hotch opens his mouth, lips twisting into a pained grimace as he grunts. Pale, half-lidded eyes rolling back. Writhes, sucking in small rasped breathes.

“Easy,” the man soothes. Hotch is moving too much, jostling his spine dangerously. Given the state of his side-- flesh torn open by his door having caved in. The whole thing buckling in. Carl, the man currently using his own hands to hold Hotch’s neck, is providing as a brace, a point guard. He sits wedged right there with him, ready to help the guys on the other side.

“Just hold still,” Carl whispers. “You’re okay.”

Having George Foyet stand overtop him, the blade of his knife dragging down his flesh. Taunting, playing… he’d known then what was coming. Expected the blinding pain and known that no matter what he did, no matter what he felt he could not show fear. Could not submit to showing his pain.

Here, the vague chill of numbness spreading down his toes. Knowing that he can’t feel his feet, that he isn’t moving them either. Nothing-- not the prospect of dying here in this car-- is as harrowing as the realization that he can’t see or hear Jack.

He swallows thickly, draining his body of its resources as he struggles to bring himself to full consciousness. His lips part but he hasn’t got enough air.

“Alright, alright.” Carl tries to keep him calm but he sees the blood. Watching the blood bubble, foamy and pale as it slides down Aaron’s chin. “Don’t speak,” he rushes. Carl leans his head out the car’s window, shouting down to the other worker’s slowly working out how to get the door open. “He’s got busted lung guys, you’re gonna have to be quicker.”

“How bad?”

Carl looks back to Aaron, wincing in sympathy. “Just hurry, he’s not going to be able to take much more of this.”

“J,,,” Aaron can’t breathe. Each breath a little thinner, the taste of blood heavy on his tongue. “Jack,” he mouths, voice catching on just enough of the sounds that Carl understands.

The other man nods, smiling as he motions with his head to their left. “Jack? Is that your boy’s name?” Carl laughs, easy, light. “He’s sitting out there with my partner. Kid’s got so many rocks in his pockets, I don’t know if we’ll be able to pick the poor fella up.”

Hotch looks as far to the left as he can. Eyes burning with the strain. He can see out the door, vision blurring just enough to obscure the asphalt. To Jack. His happy little hands dancing up at his head as he rocks back on forth on his feet. Unaware of the wreckage just behind him.

Shutting his eyes he smiles too. For Jack and his little clicks, above all else, he just wants to hear those little clicks.

“Stay with me, pal. We promised Jack you’d be alright. Come on--”

But Aaron knows that’s not true. He’s worked these scenes a thousand times. Knows what to say to the children when they ask too many questions-- “Where’s mommy?” “Is my daddy gonna die?”-- and how far to move them from the scene. How to point out clouds shaped like castles so that they don’t hear the pained cries of their mothers. Drawing their attention to the grasshopper in the tall grass so that when the EMTs shout with fear, their fathers bleeding out on the asphalt with nothing but rough gravel beneath them… they never suspect a thing.

This day, this moment will be remembered by the person who took the time to talk to them. Who sat with them in the grass. Not the blood.

Jack will not ask where his father is.

And Aaron finds a great bit of relief knowing Jack won’t be lied to.

[need-a-fugue]

Little Bird

Summary: A nice leisurely morning in your husband’s arms is exactly what you need right now. But feeling warm and safe can cause secrets and doubts to spill so easily…

Author’s note: For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge from @captain-rogers-beard​ (6/18). This prompt sparked a little something-something… I’ve been struggling on piecing together a story I’ve been working on for a bit, and this scene just tumbled right out thanks to one lovely, little word… Leisurely.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: all pretty tame, just some sweetness and angst

Word count: 2K

Mornings had been rough lately, streams of light from the rising sun peeking through the window long before your tired body is ready to greet the day, the brilliant orange hues setting your stomach to clench and roil in bitter anticipation. Most days, you roll out of bed with a slow groan, hoping to make it to the bathroom before the full force of nausea hits, only to end up racing in a flourish the moment you leave the small air conditioned bedroom, the Wakandan heat prickling your senses to make this sickness that much more unbearable.

A typical morning meant violently emptying your stomach into the toilet down the hall, your husband at your back – only half awake himself – holding your hair and trailing a gentle, cooling touch down the back of your neck with his blissfully cold vibranium fingertips.

But today, for the first time in weeks, the swiftly rising sun seemed to herald little more than a slow and languid wakening, you and Bucky both stirring and stretching and shifting, leisurely curling round one another, just as you had before this new phase of life began.

For an hour or more, you’d been – gratefully, blessedly – slipping in and out of that splendid sort of sleep that only early mornings can bestow… the kind that had been eluding you for so damn long now. Bucky feels it too, the serene pull of respite that you both know is about to become increasingly rare, a new disruption to your life lingering on the horizon.

But today, there’s no disruption at all. No rush to rise – I’ll take care of the goats later, he whispers into your ear before sliding his way down the sheets – and no sickness churning within.

Today is… easy.

The smallest, softest sigh slips past your lips as you shift your hips beneath him. “You’re spending an awful lot of time down there,” you mutter, voice slow and deep with near sleep.

Bucky tugs you closer, right hand splayed over your hip, thumb tracing delicately along the tender flesh of your abdomen, and he looks up, propping his chin on your middle as he aims those dazzling blue eyes your way. “Never heard you complain about me hanging out down here before,” he intones lightly, wiggling his eyebrows before lowering his lips to your stomach.

“Stop it,” you laugh, squirming beneath him, sliding far enough down the bed that the back of your head flops off of the pillow entirely. “Tickles,” comes out in a barely there murmur as your fingers move down to thread idly through his thick, wavy hair.

He turns his head, laying his cheek once again atop your still-flat abdomen, staring up at you in a way that could only be described as utterly adoring. “I love you,” he announces, exhaling the words just as easily as if they were air.

The corner of your mouth quirks up, a single brow following it in an incredulous raise. “Are you sure it’s me that you love? Because I don’t feel like you’re really paying much attention to me at all.”

His face twists, forehead crinkling. “She is you,” he says plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You let out a small groan, hips twisting a bit again before his hands settle you back into the sheets, holding you in place.

“Stop distracting me,” he tells you, tone chiding, but eyes gleaming as he presses himself closer, head angling a bit at your center. “I’m trying to listen to my baby girl.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sigh out dramatically. “I’ll bet she’s talking up a storm. She’s the size of a freakin’ kumquat.”

“I don't even know what that is,” he murmurs, completely unfazed.

You give him a playful shove, the heat from his body starting to get to you, sheets sticking to your naked thighs. “It’s a fruit. And much like your baby girl,” you mutter with a harrumph, “it doesn’t speak.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out an almost irritated sigh. “I’m listening to her move,” he tells you, an air of absolute duh coating the statement.

You give his hair a short tug. “You are not.”

“Am too,” he argues, raising a brow – but never moving his ear from your center. “Super hearing, remember?”

Now you’re the one to roll your eyes, shifting again, eager to move, annoyance at being held prisoner in your own bed beginning to swell. “It’s probably just her heartbeat.”

He raises his head and gives you a disappointed look. “I know what her heartbeat sounds like,” he says blandly before lowering himself back down. “Thrums like crazy. Like you when you try to run.”

Another light shove. “What do you mean try to run? Is that a crack about my perfectly acceptable human speed? Because I will have you know – ”

“You used to run cross-country,” he interrupts blithely. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

A slight frown tugs at your lips, your stare focusing on the ceiling above for a long, silent moment before you pull yourself up onto your elbows. Looking down at him – so content and relaxed as he rests with his head against your middle – you almost scowl at his ease, your brows tugging tightly together. “You can really hear her move?”

The widest, brightest smile flashes – along with a light laugh as he takes note of the concern belying your crumpled countenance. “Yeah. Does that freak you out?”

“Kinda,” slips out, almost a whisper, as you nervously pull your bottom lip in between your teeth. He issues another short chuckle, and you flop back to the bed. “Reminds me of Alien,” you say, throwing your forearm dramatically over your eyes. “Like I don’t have enough nightmares already.”

Bucky pulls away from your belly and slowly sidles up alongside you, his right hand raking up beneath your loose T-shirt and along your ribs as he goes. “Oh?” he murmurs into your neck, both arms wrapping around your torso as he snuggles in close. A chaste but lingering kiss is pressed to your warm skin, the slightest hint of vanilla – a taste, a smell – hitting his senses, enduring on his lips as he pulls away. “Why you having nightmares, baby?”

“I’m… stressed,” you tell him weakly, still hiding beneath your arm.

He pulls back a bit and lets out a languid sigh, reaches out and tenderly runs the pad of his flesh thumb over your dramatically pouting bottom lip. “Don’t want that,” he says with a frown of his own.

You shake your head and huff out a breath, finally pull your arm away and turn onto your side to gaze somberly at him. Your left hand falls to his cheek, heavily stubbled, the beard coming and going seemingly on a whim. Though you know the truth, his ongoing scheme to alternately annoy you with whiskered kisses and then delight you with long-awaited clean-shaven snuggles an ill-kept secret at best. You stroke your thumb down the length of his face, bringing it to rest in the divot of his chin. Your eyes fall down to stare briefly at the oh-so-familiar dimple, a soft sigh of a declaration tumbling out of you. “I hope she gets this.”

He shifts beside you, drawing your eyes back up to his, to see them narrow with concern. “Why are you stressed, baby?” he asks simply. As though there might actually be a simple response.

You shrug, gaze falling into the small space between you. Outside, the sun has fully risen, the sounds of chirping birds and naying goats filtering in through the half-open window. One of the cats jumps onto the bed, begins rubbing around your ankles, purring thickly.

Bucky gives you a tiny jostle with his vibranium hand, cupped low around your hip. “What have you been dreaming about?” he tries instead.

Another shrug, though this time you swallow thickly and tick your eyes up to meet his. “They’re just… they’ve been… I don’t know… weird. Not nightmares, really. Just… I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he issues out with a curious lilt. “What happens in them?”

You lick your lips, eyes darting away briefly, crease deepening in your forehead as you think. Think of what to say. Of how to explain. “Sometimes… I see her,” you murmur finally, the words sounding uncertain, almost iniquitous, even to your own ears. “As a baby. As a little girl.” You shift uncomfortably, letting out a small, agitated groan. And he tightens his hold on you, brings his flesh hand up to stroke soothing lines down your back.

“You see her?” he asks, a bit hesitant. “Our baby?”

You nod into him, ducking your face and burying it in the crook of his neck. “It’s never anything… bad. Never really anything at all. I’m rocking her at night. Or… I’m watching her color at a table. Or…” Your voice fades off into nothing, other words… other dreams sitting low in your throat, clamoring to rise as you effortfully swallow them back down.

“Sounds nice,” he offers simply, the heat from his breath – from his body, so close – setting your nerve endings aflame.

You shake your head, still choking on the truth. A deep tremble builds within your chest, spills out to quake Bucky’s gripping arms. “It doesn’t feel nice.” Your tired eyes blink shut, a barrage of simple, serene images playing on the backs of your lids. Simple, yet… “It’s like… there’s nothing wrong… nothing I can see. But…” You pull back just a bit, open hooded eyes to stare helplessly up at him. “It all feels… wrong.”

He’s silent for a long moment as he watches you closely, thinks on what to say. A single thumb begins to stroke along your shoulder blade, his hand beneath your shirt feeling sticky and hot, and… unwelcome. You twitch awkwardly, his thumb stilling as a soft sigh spills from his chest. “Just nerves,” he mutters then, no intonation of a question, but a lack of surety all the same. Another sigh falls as he tucks you in close, peeling his sweaty hand from your skin and instead draping his arm heavily over your hip. “I’m scared too,” he breathes into your hair, laying a lingering kiss to your crown. “Scared I’ll screw something up. Scared I might… hurt her.”

You shift in his grasp, head shaking fluidly back and forth. “You wouldn’t. You won’t.”

He rests his chin in your hair, reaches up to begin again the slow, soft stroke up and down your spine. “It’ll be okay, baby,” he whispers, the oft-repeated words laying out promises even he knows are brittle and frail. “It’ll all be okay.”

The anxious worry – the tattered fear – that sloughs off of him, sounding in his voice, pulsating through his fingertips, is enough to make you wish you hadn’t said a word. You shake your head again, an attempt to rid your mind of the building thoughts… the budding what ifs that these odd and portending dreams had been causing to ripple through your subconscious mind for so many days… nights.

But now it’s morning, so different from the night, when all your doubts come out to play. Sleep. Lazy, languid, sunrise sleep feeling like a warm and welcoming breeze blowing across your still-trembling body. The promise of sleep – light and airy and dreamless – seems but a breath away as you lay here… you and your baby both laying here in Bucky’s arms. Safe, if only for today.

“What does she sound like?” you ask, voice light, an almost forced optimism rushing through it.

A crooked smile blooms across his face as he presses another soft kiss into your hair. “Sounds like… a little flutter.”

“Hm,” you breathe out, eyes drifting shut, nothing but a tranquil, faded image of the partially open window playing on your lids. “Like a little bird?”

“Yeah, baby,” he whispers, tugging you close as your breathing begins to deepen, body growing heavy in his grip. “Just like a little bird.”

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 6: Romantic Gestures

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

The scene was set. The sun had gone down and Cat Noir had set up the rooftop overlooking the Seine with the same candle arrangements as before. Rose petals laid out on the floor with a red and white picnic blanket spread out. A basket holding foods he had prepared himself thanks to the teachings of Cheng Sifu. It had been 5 years since he had seen her and he was sure she was still patrolling every night without him. If only he had known her true identity then he wouldn’t be standing here feeling foolish as he waited for her to make her way around. He could smell freshly baked bread coming from the bakery just down the road. His gaze drifted to the balcony above Marinette’s bedroom. Oh, many nights he found himself standing on that balcony, with her and wishing she was with him. 

How long had he been standing here? She should have been here by now. Temptation lured him to creep off the roof and into the alley near the bakery.

“Claws off,” he said then walked casually into the bakery.

“Oh, Marinette is going to look so lovely in that dress.” Sabine was cooing in the bakery’s kitchen.

“This wedding is going to be perfect,” Tom said. “Good thing your uncle was able to find this dress in her size.” 

“I am so proud of our daughter Tom, she did a great job with this one.” 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the conversation caught his tongue and he couldn’t speak. She was getting married. He had waited too long to return. He had turned to leave when he heard footsteps entering the front of the bakery. 

“Can we get you something? Most of our pastries are gone for the day.” Sabine said cheerfully. 

“Macaroons?” Adrien said. “Passionfruit.” he turned around hoping they wouldn’t recognize him. 

“Yes of course,” Sabine said and began gathering up a box of them. “How many.” Adrien nodded knowing what she was asking. 

“A whole box ma’am.” 

“I don’t recall seeing here before are you in from out of town,” Tom asked. Adrien nodded. 

“Oh, for the wedding or the Reunion?” Sabine asked. Excitedly. 

“The reunion.” He felt pressure on his heart and wanted to escape.

“Oh, hold on.” Tom grabbed a camera. “We are taking pictures of all of the graduating class for Alya, she’s making a photo journal for your class.” Adrien shifted nervously. 

“I uh, got to go.” Before he could escape Tom snapped the photo as Adrien held the box of macaroons. His hood still pulled partially over his head, though his face and bangs still showed. Adrien turned quickly and left. He transformed back into Cat Noir and headed back to the rooftop. Just in time to see Ladybug swing away. 

“Ah, stupid stupid.” He quickly followed her hoping to catch up and insist she returned to the picnic. How long had he been waiting in the bakery, had he spoken up he wouldn’t have missed Ladybug, or gotten his picture taken. He was nearly caught up to her when she dropped out of sight. He leaped over the rooftop of the last where she had disappeared and nothing.  He looked around until he saw a window lit up not far from where Ladybug disappeared. It was a balcony much smaller than his own with a sliding door. He saw a crack in the blinds and he could see Marinette. 

An old familiar coincidence to run into Marinette right after Ladybug detransforms. His suspicions had been on her this whole time. Midnight hair, bluebell eyes, and the pigtails, well now she simply wore her hair loose. Both of them in fact. Not to mention, their mannerisms. Even Ladybug herself was clumsy at first, even introduced herself as “Madly Clumsy”.

Cat Noir went home, at least now he knew where to find Marinette. 

There was a car out front of the manor when Cat Noir scurried into his room. He made his way to the front entrance after detransforming. The gate bell was chiming angrily. Adrien hurried to the front hall where the security controls were. He flipped a switch and the gate camera came on. It was Nino. He hit a buzzer opening the gates and waited at the front door. He steadied himself for whatever his best friend would say. He owed him an apology for leaving too and hoped it would be enough. A knock sounded on the door. Adrien slowly opened it up to meet his friend who stood slightly shorter than him now. 

“Adrien?” Nino asked 

“How did you know I was here?” Adrien held the door open for his friend who stepped inside nervously. 

“Dude, your bedroom light is on, it’s not been on for 5 years,” Nino said pointing to the ceiling. “When… when did you get back?”

“Today,” Adrien said choking back his emotions. “We have a lot to talk about.” He started for the stairs heading back to his bedroom. “Are you still Carapace?” he asked after they closed the door.” 

“Yeah kinda, I mean, no one but Ladybug ever goes out,” Nino said looking around the room. “It’s still the same.” 

“Yeah, I don’t ever come here.” Adrien didn’t have to say it. “It’s hard for me to be here.” 

“You don’t have to explain Adrien, we all understand.” 

“We?” 

“Your friends.” Nino placed his hands on Adrien’s shoulders. “You are not your father, his actions are not yours.” 

“It’s easy for you to say.” Adrien stepped back. “Everything that happened that day has haunted me all these years.” He walked over to the piano and ran his fingers across the keys. He hadn’t played since he had been forced to practice every night. “Everything from what happened with Marinette to Hawk Moth, and even Ladybug.” 

“What happened with Marinette?” That was the question Nino chose to ask. 

“Don’t worry about it, besides I’m sure Alya already told you she tells you everything.” Adrien smiled remembering the duo that had actually broken his heart even though they never knew. “I was always jealous of you two. Are you still together.” 

“Engaged,” Nino said 

“Did she propose.” 

“You know it, dude.” Nino sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. “How long are you staying?”

“I’m planning on going home, on Sunday.”

“Home!” Nino stood up again starring him down as if he had said something wrong. “THIS is your home, Adrien.” 

“This. was my PRISON!” Adrien snapped. “Sure, I had my friends when I was ALLOWED to see them but I was held captive in this very room my entire life.” He sucked in a deep breath as his hands made a motion in the air as if to gather his senses. “I am sorry my friend, it’s just hard being here.” 

“So you won’t stay for the Wedding.” Adrien couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. 

“Marinette?” Adrien choked back his emotions. Nino looked up at him and began to laugh. 

“No dude, me and Alya.” a sigh of relief seemed to appear on his face as Nino stopped laughing.

“She’s still waiting,” Nino said seriously. “For your answer.” Adrien looked up at him and smiled. 

“Then I guess I better give her one.” Nino walked to the door.

“I have to go man, but you better stay for my wedding. I don’t even have a best man, no one could take your place, Adrien.” Adrien moved to walk his friend out. At the front door, he caught Nino’s arm as he was walking out the door. 

“Don’t tell anyone I am back.” 

“To late, Ladybug seen your light, she told Alya who told me.”

“And Marinette?” 

“She overheard Ladybug.” 

“Well, let’s keep our conversation between us then.” Adrien released his arm. 

“Of course dude, what are buds for.” he watched Nino leave.

The next day as he was driving to the apartment he had seen Marinette at, he noticed a sidewalk sale featuring Ladybug and Cat Noir stuff. He parked the car on the curb and inspected the goods. He found a Kwami sized Plagg and purchased it. Then ducked into an Alleyway. He set the Kwami Swishy down to transform then leaped up the side of the building to her balcony. He saw the blinds closed but for a small crack enough to peak through. He saw Marinette enter the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel. His cheeks flushed as he ducked out of view. He left the Swishy on the seat and hurried down the side of the building and transformed. 

He was still panting as he slipped back into his car. Adrien sat in his car for a while as he saw Alya and Marinette leave their building. He didn’t know what to do, he contemplated talking to them, but by the time he got up the nerve to do so, they were gone. He slipped out of his car and went across the street to a cafe and ordered a ham and spinach omelet with orange juice. He could still see their building from the window seat but thanks to the tinting no one could see in. He kept his hood up so no one would recognize him. To his surprise, no one seemed to even notice him. 

After a while and a few more additions to his order he saw Marinette return by herself. Adrien paid for his food and left. At the front entrance of her building, there was a buzzer entrance. He decided to go into the alleyway. His stomach churned as he tried to get the nerve to go see her.

“Why not just push the buzzer,” Plagg asked getting annoyed. Adrien’s lungs struggled to pull in oxygen as he squatted down. His head was spinning and his heart throttled. 

“Plagg claws out.” He finally managed to say after catching his breath. On the balcony, he found the sliding door opened.

“Marinette.” He said softly as he squatted on the railing. 

“Who?” He could hear her choking on her words. He dropped his feet to the floor and stood in front of the door. “Who are you?” her voice shook as if she didn’t recognize him.

“Are you scared of me Purrrrinceess?” He had hoped his cattish demeanor would soften the mood between them, he couldn’t stand for her being afraid of him. He stepped back as she stepped closer. He leaned against the railing as she came out onto the balcony. She was so beautiful. Her hair was like midnight as the sun bounced off it. While her eyes twinkled. She had a black cat squishie snuggled against her chest. It was a larger one, big enough to cover her entire torso. His heart flipped in his chest like Plagg had last night at the sight of Camembert. He knew this love.

“I could never be afraid of you, I was just.” she choked. Cat Noir had to catch his breath. The sound of her voice was so sweet. It felt like the air had been trapped in his throat. “Not expecting you. How did you know I lived here? She swallowed.

“I saw Ladybug last night, I tried to catch up with her.” He had to shift his eyes off of her as he was losing the ability to maintain his thoughts. “But when I got here I lost sight of her, over there.” He lifted his hand up. 

“Oh, you were looking for Ladybug.” Everyone knew how much Cat Noir loved Ladybug, but after he abandoned her, it was likely that everyone now hated him for it. He watched her take a seat then crossed his as he stood there, then slid to the cold concrete floor. Looking up at her he didn’t have to raise his head too far.  There was something in her eyes, sad and it made him want to cry. 

“Something wrong? He asked as he tried to get her to make eye contact. 

“The 5th anniversary is tomorrow.” he hung his head wondering how hard this must be for her. Was she hoping to see Adrien there? 

“I know, that’s why I am back. He saw her face change from sadness to anger, was she angry he was back? “Are you… okay?” he asked nervously. 

“You have been gone so long, do you have any idea what you did to Ladybug?” the words struck him like a cold wet hand against his face. “She has patrolled this city every night for the last 5 years, everyone watched her with breaking hearts as she looked for you.” If Marinette was this mad over his breaking someone else’s heart, imagine how the rest of the city felt about him right now. “We ALL missed you.” her tears tugged at his as he almost lost control of his emotions. He tried to focus his attention on his breathing. 

“I see you found it.” he indicated towards the seat she now sat in. 

“The cat squishy?” she continued to cuddle the larger one as if squeezing the life out of it was her only solace in this conversation. 

“I remembered you being a Cat Noir fan... “ he suddenly remembered the incident a few hours ago seeing her in her towel and began to worry she’d see the embarrassment on his face and know he had seen. “I stopped by this morning but…”

“Oh, oh, um… did you? Her voice cracking as the words came out. It reminded if of how she talked to Adrien back in their high school days. 

“I didn’t see anything, I am sorry I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no it’s my fault for not closing the blinds all of the ways.” He felt a sense of relief as even she too seemed to relax. “So, Francois Dupont?” His brain clicked off. Wait, what was she asking?

“You went to school there? Did we know each other?” He wasn’t ready for the identity reveal just yet, but what could he say to get out of this one. “You said you were here for the reunion.”

“Oh, oh that…” He felt a sudden shock in his heart as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was wearing his Cat Noir costume as opposed to his Hei Mao one so his head and neck weren’t covered. “I um… was actually here for the City Reunion of the Super… heroes… that save Paris.” It had been all over the news for the past week. The city was apparently putting on a big show for them and had expected to see everyone, although no one knew if he was coming or not. She seemed content with that answer.

“So, why are you... here here?” He figured she was asking why he was on the balcony. He suddenly felt unwanted as her words slipped from her lips. 

“You’re the first friend I have seen, other than Ladybug.” he sighed. “I didn’t get to talk to her.” If only she knew who he really was, she’d know why he was there.

“Oh, you might tonight, she goes on patrol ever night.” he could hear her chuckle a little bit and it sounded almost mischievous. “Why did you leave?” 

“I am sorry Marinette, I can’t tell you that.’ this was the question he was prepared for. “I’m sorry, it’s just, not something I can share with a civilian.” 

“Well, if you remember right, I was Multimouse.” He smiled remembering how adorable she was in her mouse suit. “For a day.” 

“Ladybug and I are the only ones who that about you.” He let his smile go. “But not ever she knows my secret.” he wanted Ladybug to be the first.

“Are you going to tell her?” 

“If she wants to know, yes.” he had made up his mind, “Even if it means she takes my miraculous… and Plagg.” He didn’t want to give up his best friend, but it was something he was willing to do, for the sake of restoring himself with Ladybug. They talked a while longer as Marinette asked him various mundane questions. Like where has he been, and whether he was married or not. This gave him the opportunity to play around with her and tease her. Sure making her blush was always a bonus. 

He stood up to leave bidding her goodbye. He couldn’t wait to see Ladybug tonight and he would be sure to not leave the rooftop until she sat down with him. 

Cat noir paced back and forth on the rooftop. Red rose petals scattered on the floor flew up in huffs as Cat paced back and forth. All of the candles were lit and a blanket laid out among the flower petals. A bouquet of roses and a picnic basket sat there as well. This wasn’t going to be like it was before. He wasn’t there to profess his love. Not this time, he was there to beg for her to forgive him. Hoping she wouldn’t be mad at him. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize when he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Cat.” A small voice sounded from behind him. He spun around to see Ladybug standing there. She was more beautiful than ever. Her figure filled out more than the teenage Ladybug, her suit confessed her body's curves and the details of her shape as she stood so elegantly amidst the candlelight. His heart stalled in his chest as he fought back the urge to scoop her up and hold her. His body began to quiver fearing the words that were bound to come from her lips. 

Silence fell between them as they stood there for what seemed like forever.

“Bugaboo I….” The name slipped his lips before he knew it, the sound of it freezing in his veins. He blinked just once and she was in his arms. Her face was buried in his neck. He closed his arms around her standing at his full height, her legs dangling in the air. He felt her heart throbbing in her chest as her body began to shake. Was she crying. I didn’t dare pull back. He could feel his body growing weak at the thought of her crying, his emotions swirled around him as his knees began to weaken. Slipping to the floor, he held his grip on her. 

Now sitting on his knees, her on his lap he allowed his emotions to free. Tears poured out as he too cried. 

“How could you leave me?” She sobbed. “I needed you and you were gone.” He could hear her choking on her words. He couldn’t speak through the sound of her tears. His heart was breaking for her. If only she knew, if only he could have taken her with him. They held each other for what seemed like forever as they both released 5 years of pain and loss for their beloved partner. 

“Don’t you ever leave me again.” She said, pulling back from him. She banged on his chest with both hands as her anger flared up. “You can never leave me again.” he reached to take her hands and moved them around his waist then wrapped his arms around her again. 

“I never wanted to leave you, I wanted to take you with me.” he whispered. “I didn’t have a choice but to leave, and I am sorry I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye.” She pulled back from him standing up. She stormed over to the concrete railing. 

“You had your cat phone…” She said, stifling her tears. His heart ached as he watched her leaning on her arms. “I left you so many messages, and you…” she sniffled.

“I am sorry I hurt you.” He said. “I knew you’d be okay, because…” 

“I was NOT okay!” She spun around facing him, her anger displayed heavy on her face. “My best friend left me. When I needed him the most.” 

“You were always stronger than me.” He said, stepping up to her. “I didn’t have the strength emotionally to say goodbye to you, and hearing your voice over and over again was enough torture for me, I couldn’t bring myself to call you back.” Her face shifted.

“You...listened to my messages?” Ladybug wiped a tear from her eye. 

“Everyone, and every night,” he said. “For the past 5 years.” He reached out for her hands. She let him take them as he stepped back leading her to the picnic blanket. “I even made a point to watch the paper for sightings of you.” he smiled. 

“Alya…” Ladybug swallowed her tears. “She kept up the Lady blog and even went to work for the paper, trying to send you a message to come home.” 

“I got the message, I am sorry it took me so long.” He sat down still holding one of her hands. “I had…. Some things to process through.” 

“Well, you didn’t have to do it alone.” She sniped.

“I couldn’t face you, or our friends,” he said. “I had my own shame I had to… I didn’t want to bring you guys down with me.” his voice trembled. He still felt the shame, the shame of being the son of the man who terrorized his home and all of his friends. He couldn’t bear to show his face. 

“Where did you go?” She asked as he began setting out the various cheeses, and fruits. Marinette noticed the TS Boulangerie Patisserie logo she had designed for her parents. He had bought an assortment of macaroons and croissants. He even pulled out a spinach quiche. 

“You must really like that bakery.” Ladybug teased. 

“Best in Paris.” he chirped.

“Are you going to save any of this for your Mrs. Cat?” Ladybug toyed.

“Only if you’ll have me.” He teased back. 

“Cat.” She blushed, flicking his bell for old times’ sake. “I’m serious.” 

“You don’t think I am?” His voice lowered as if he were hurt. “What about you, did you ever tell him you love him?” His voice was crisp as his words came out too quickly for her to process them. She sighed and looked away. “I see.” He picked up a macaron and stuffed it into her mouth. “If you're not going to talk you might as well eat.” he chuckled. She ate the cookie. 

“So, the reunion is tomorrow?” He changed the subject. “Who all is going to be there?” 

“You were the only one we were waiting for.” She said, placing her open hand smoothly against his cheek. He leaned into it, closing his eyes. He took her hand from his cheek and placed his lips gently on her knuckles. Oh, the reminiscence of old. He watched as her cheeks flushed a hue of pink that took him back to the innocents of their youth. He had made her blush before and the prospect of doing it again was exhilarating. Oh, how time slipped away as they feasted on each other's presence in the glow of the full moon. 

It was hard to part with her as her hand slowly slipped from his. Her eyes watched him until her yo-yo secured on an adjacent building, and she swung away. He packed up the picnic stuff. He headed for the edge of the roof and made his way back to his empty mansion. His bedroom window opened and the lights were on as he slipped inside, placing the basket on the piano then heading for the bathroom after transformed.

“Claws in,” he said as the Kwami dove for the picnic basket.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Irreplaceable

A commission for the great @kanonffa

It’s always fun writing for Takumi cause I love him a lot lol. Also, writing this made me sad about the powercreep in FEH but I still use the hell out of him... 

Thanks again for the commission!

______________

A half battered training dummy staring back at him, Takumi clenches his teeth. Shoulders hunched, his bangs cling to his forehead as he catches his breath. Fujin Yumi in hand, the bow is undrawn as he surveys the training ground. The arena is littered with a multitude of arrows: targets destroyed cleanly in two, a training dummy more reminiscent of a pin cushion, and even the bench is nicked with a few stray arrows.

“It’s still no use,” Standing up, Takumi’s grip on Fujin Yumi tightens. “No matter what I do, I’ll always be inferior,” A few tears threaten to pour from Takumi’s eyes, the salty liquid prickling his eyes. Violently shaking his head, as if his thoughts will stop, Takumi sniffles.

Having been summoned to Askr early on, Takumi’s aid had been invaluable to the Order of Heroes. His relationship to Kiran strained at first, Takumi immediately distrustful of anyone, Kiran’s caring nature warmed him up eventually. Repelling Veronica’s initial assault on Askr, Takumi had been the main cause for the turning point. However, soon enough, his strength was beginning to lack. Foes and heroes grew stronger alike, and he was left to catch up. At first, it simply meant sharing the limelight, something that Takumi was rather fine with. As long as he felt he was doing his fair equal share, working in a team of four was inconsequential. But soon enough, playing catch up was no longer possible. Even with all of Kiran’s favoritism, Kiran offering refines and seals to Takumi first. Eventually, Takumi’s share was no longer equal, Takumi always contributing the least to his team. As Kiran shifted members around, the newer heroes always contributed more despite their increasing recency in being summoned. Once the star of any team, Takumi had been relegated to support, a role that others fared much better in as well, even as Kiran continued her attempts to help Takumi out.

“She’ll give up on me eventually,” Takumi glumly reminds himself. Scoffing, he heads back to his room. He merely offers a curt ‘hello’ to the few heroes that do greet him. He slams the door behind him as he enters his room, placing Fujin Yumi on its stand.

Takumi lets himself fall into his chair. Slouched, the tiny little addition of pudge on his stomach, his beginner abs now washed away by flab, presses against his shirt. “Ugghh,’ Takumi leans his neck back, staring at the ceiling. “If only Ryoma were here,” Takumi shakes his head, imagining Kiran falling for Ryoma if he were here as well. “Well, Hinoka would be nice to talk to,” Realizing Hinoka would most likely tell Takumi to take charge and confess, he rescinds that comment as well. “Sakura…” Takumi trails off, trying to find some fault in his expectation of a conversation with Sakura. But he finds none, Sakura’s reasoning so perfect that he can’t even imagine what she’d tell him.

“Any of them would be nice to talk to,” Slumping, Takumi crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. The only of his siblings summoned, any sort of talking was done with Kiran, but with his issue involving Kiran herself,  the lack of his siblings was starting to become increasingly obvious. “I should clear my mind,” Unwilling to dwell on the issue further, Takumi stands up. He heads over to the mess hall, eating his idea of clearing his mind.

Upon arriving at the currently near empty mess hall, Takumi immediately focuses on the two rowdy heroes eating together. The two of them newer additions to the Order, Gatrie and Osian both have hearty helpings of food. A couple of plates for each, the two talk about their training regimens in between bites, talk of women equally as involved as their talks of their regimens.

Takumi continues to listen in as he grabs something to eat. The idea of more food, Askr’s delicious myriad of dishes a soothing comfort, at the cost of some extra training sounds revolutionary to the desperate Takumi. Grabbing an extra serving of spaghetti, Takumi greedily rubs his hands as he sits down. He imagines his dream body, a defined chest with strong biceps, glistening abs and powerful legs to finish it off, Kiran surely falling for him if he puts on some muscle. Stronger with the added muscle, he’d be able to better pull his weight. His vision in mind, Takumi greedily devours his spaghetti.

Unwilling to spot any other fault with his mind too busy being preoccupied over his lack of strength, his indulgence of food for comfort escapes Takumi’s notice. Training so hard, a bit of extra snacks, or even meals, is a necessity. Or needing the extra food to aid his bulking process to impress Kiran. Takumi is far too willing to rationalize his indulgent behavior as anything but an issue. Even as the bit of pudge on his torso grows some more before that too becomes a noticeable sliver of lard. The extra girth to his body is simply his body being in the middle of his metamorphosis onto bigger and buffer things. At least, Takumi consoles himself as the days pass by. His training sessions grow frequently shorter and as his meals grow comparatively larger. Already deep into his training, a few more days will show some actual growth. And yet, the days turn into weeks, Takumi finding zero progress as the month passes by.

Well, not his intended progress.

Having just woken up, yesterday’s extra helping of cake sits in Takumi’s stomach. It heavily sits in his stomach, Takumi as stuffed as he is groggy. He rests a pudgy hand on his budding gut, his thick fingers curving alongside his stomach. “I…” Looking down, Takumi grits his teeth. His extra girth notable to everyone with eyes, tears threaten to prickle his eyes once again. His stance a tad wider than before his training regimine, his thighs curve a bit inward from the extra flab, the bundle of fat slightly squishing up against each other. The budding layer of fat marking the onset of his double chin presses against his chest. His love handles, both the size of dinner rolls and perfect for a grab, jut out on his sides. “...I just need to train more,” Takumi’s eyes shift, as if anyone else is in his room. Reaching for the nearest shirt, his clothes uncomfortable to sleep in with a clear lack of breathing room, Takumi grunts as he lifts the shirt over his head.

The fabric is already taut as Takumi stretches his shirt to cover his doughy back. Yanking the material down, he lets out angry puffs as he struggles. Fabric catching on fat, the material wrinkling, he yanks his shirt down each time. The hem going past his chest, he grits his teeth as he pulls harder; his arms squish against his sides. Tugging down, the hem goes down as far as possible. The bottom bit of Takumi’s flab remains exposed, his shirt unable to go any lower. His torso is absolutely stuffed inside his shirt. His outward ovular  curve of his love handles press against the fabric, the material clinging to his rolls. His shirt is painted on, his soft chest bulging through the top; the outline of his moobs are visible.

Takumi stomps his foot, the pressure reverberating in his leg. “This is..” Takumi grabs his love handles. He shakes them, his gut jiggling alongside his love handles. “This is pointless!” Crashing back down on his bed, a strained sob escapes him as he rests his head in his hands. The tiny crack from his bed’s frame goes unregistered. “I can’t impress Kiran now,” Sighing, the prior vigor in his body dissipates. Takumi’s frame curls in on itself as he lies on his side. “Not when everyone outclasses me…”

Unwilling to go out, feeling absolutely ridiculous in his far too small shirt, Takumi remains on his bed, shifting every once in a while as he wallows in his self pity. The day going on without him, he dejectedly sighs, his eyes downcast. Unaware of the exact time, the only marcation is the sun’s descent. Takumi sits up as a knock sounds. Takumi scrambles to fix himself, his hands shooting towards his shirt to yank it down. His eyes nearly bulge as the door begins to open.

“H-hey, wait a minute!” Takumi freezes as Kiran walks in.

“Here you are!” Bustling in, Kiran’s ever jovial expression remains present on her face. “I couldn’t find you anywhere,” Kiran smiles at Takumi, her gaze focused on his face.

Takumi inwardly screams. Kiran right in front of him, he prepares himself for a snide comment on his weight, or laughter or just about any way this’ll go wrong.

Yet, none of his envisioned scenarios come to pass, Takumi eyeing Kiran. “Yeah…” Takumi rubs the back of his neck, his shirt rising up his belly. “I woke up late,” Takumi smiles, staring at the wall behind Kiran instead of her face,

“Are you okay?” Kiran steps forward. She places a hand on Takumi’s shoulder.

Takumi grits his teeth. “Of course I’m not!” Takumi shouts, pushing away Kiran’s hand. “Not when I look like this,” Takumi places both hands on his roll of a stomach, the lard slotting itself into his hands. “I’m fat and-” Takumi grunts, lifting his hands in exasperation.

“So, you haven’t been trying to gain weight?” Kiran innocuously asks, her head slightly cocked to the side.

“Huh?” Broken out of his anger, Takumi stares at Kiran. “You think I did this on purpose?” Takumi nearly jumps as Kiran places a warm hand on his stomach.

“I’ve seen you so often in the mess hall that I figured it was intentional,” Kiran pats Takumi’s stomach. She smiles up at him. “I think you look a lot cuter like this, but if you want to lose the weight, I could go over some training sessions with you tomorrow morning,”

Takumi’s face burns, his cheeks a vibrant hue of red that seems to want to melt his face off. His mind replays Kiran’s words, his entire being focusing on Kiran calling him cute. He glances down at Kiran’s expectant face. His mind pieces the rest of her words, Takumi clearing his throat. “Yeah! Tomorrow sounds great!” He winces from his palpable excitement.

“Great, I’ll see you then,” Kiran gives a small wave before rushing away, her face gleeful from the prospect of spending time with Takumi.

Takumi watches as Kiran walks off, her pace always in a hurry. He closes his door as she turns the last corner of the hallway. Alone again, he presses his back against the wall. Pressing a hand to his racing heart, he takes steady breaths. “Okay,” Mind replaying the prior scene, Takumi mulls over the interaction. “She said I looked cute…” Takumi begins to walk in circles. “She was probably just pitying me,” Takumi glances down at his tummy. He pokes his pale flab, his stomach jiggling in response. “But I still have a date with her tomorrow,” Takumi chokes on his saliva as he catches his mistake. “It’s not a date! Just a training session, but still, there has to be some way to get rid of this,” Takumi sighs as he realizes his answer. “It’s gonna be magic…” Inept in the art of magic, the tomes he could barely decipher are now his last resort. Mentally preparing himself, the already late hour is perfect for his little escapade.

Giving one last tug at his shirt, Takumi grumbles as his thighs rub against one another. Peeking his head out the door, Takumi checks for anyone around. The hallway is completely empty. Takumi picks up a decent pace. Fast enough to show he has somewhere to go, but not fast enough to look like a maniac. Or for his fat to be shaking everywhere. Though it still jiggles from his pace. Takumi hopes his face doesn’t get even redder.  He passes by a few other heroes, none of them thankfully from the World of Fates. Though, he still keeps his gaze averted from them, hoping for zero comments about his extra flab. Another few turns, the seemingly endless hallways are nothing to Takumi’s long time in Askr. The ornate brown doors marking the library’s entrance open easily as Takumi pushes them open. The library is void of any other individual, Takumi the only occupant. Deciding to get to work, he begins by the walls.

Takumi mentally thanks whoever organizes the library. Each shelf neatly organized by subject, Takumi quickly browses the shelves by subject alone. Passing by books on geography, painting, weapons, and many more, each subject divided further based upon the realm, Taumi walks along the shelves lining the wall. His attention shifts as he reaches the back left hand corner. A door remains inconspicuous in between two shelves.

Deciding to enter, he praises his luck as he finally finds a section on magic. The room is much smaller than the main section of the library. A few shelves are placed interspersedly; a small table for two sits perfectly in the middle. Takumi glances at each book's title. Spotting a possible contender, the book titled Limits of the Body, Takumi promptly places it back after reading a few paragraphs, the book on the use of magic for tortue.  Another book titled Free your Form details the use of light and dark magic and their usage in manifesting  incorporeal beings.

“Please let this be the one,” Takumi mutters to himself as he grabs another book, this one titled A Treatise on Molding. Takumi promptly opens the book to the table of contents before he flips over to the back of the book where the spells are listed.

Reading the spells under his breath, it takes Takumi a while to understand each spell. And even then, his lack of magic has him only understanding the mere basics of a spell’s purpose. Takumi taps his finger against the book as he finds the perfect spell. Clearing his throat, he takes a steady breath. Reciting the words as best as he can, Takumi looks down at himself with bated breath. His stomach bubbles for a second, the little mound of fat groaning before it begins to recede. Eyes wide, Takumi lifts up his arm. The flab hanging from his arms begins to recede as well, Takumi stares as the definition returns to his arms, his muscles no longer hidden under a layer of fat. Bringing a hand to his stomach, the onset of abs are back, the flat stomach under his lithe fingers. His hand shifts to his thighs, the wide legs now much trimmer. Takumi hugs the tome, the book pressing up against his slight chest.

However, a thought blossoms in Takumi’s mind. If a spell made him lose all the weight he gained, what’s to say he couldn’t use another spell to gain the muscle he desperately wanted to impress Kiran? With that thought in mind, Takumi opens the book, once more rifling through the pages. The spells somewhat hard to decipher, he struggles a bit before he finds what he needs. A spell to get bigger, Takumi recites the spell with certainty, closing the book with a flourish as he finishes. A warmth begins to bud in his stomach, Takumi looking on with glee.

He nearly falls over as his stomach lurches forward. A gut larger than the extra flab he had before, his shirt tears from the sudden growth. His ass does the same, his flat butt gaining shape as it bulges outward, his pants creaking from the fat. His chin soon grows a double chin. His thighs widen, the prior problem of chafing minor as his legs continue to grow and fatten, the two thighs squishing further against each other. His gut continues to expand; the mass of fat sags ever further to blanker his legs. Lethargic, Takumi uses a heavy arm to open the book. He holds back a choke as his arms grow wider than how his thighs were before all this mess. Takumi flips through the spells as fast as he can, his sausage fingers struggling to leaf through the pages. The sounds of his shredding clothing rings in his ears. A new rip or tear seems to sound out as he goes through every page, Takumi’s eyes scanning for the first spell. Feeling just so damn heavy, Takumi grunts as his legs begin to wobble. Huffing, the pile of lard for cheeks begin to encroach into his peripheral vision. His arms shake as he tries to keep the book lifted. And still he grows, Takumi panicking as he can simply feel the expanse of his body despite not touching it. The sheer weight and space he takes up immense as the last shreds of his clothes fall off, the stuffy air of the library against his skin. He feels how much his fat sags, his titanic gut reaching his knees. He struggles to shift, his thighs unbearably pressed up against each other. His chest sags down on his gut, the two breasts larger than even the numerous well endowed women in the Order.

Finally reaching the page, Takumi pants for air. Simply standing, he feels exhausted. He begins to read the first spell, his still fattening body urging him on. His knees buckling, Takumi falls back. Letting out a shout, the book falls from his grasp. His gigantic ass cushions the fall, the large hills for fat rivaling a two seater. Huffing, Takumi spots the book in front of him. Moreso his stomach than himself, Takumi’s bed for a stomach extending far out as it envelops more and more of the floor. Takumi grunts as he tries to lift up a door crushingly-wide thigh. His thighs alone are larger than his waistline back when he was pudgy. Pathetically moving his arms, even that ends up being a chore for Takumi, his massively fattened arms no longer good for anything. Completely immobile, Takumi whimpers as he feels himself grow even larger.

Unable to do anything, Takumi remains seated as he continues to fatten up. Growing unfathomably wide, he wonders about the sheer amount of fabric that would be necessary just to cover up his tank of a stomach. New rolls continue to form on Takumi’s body as older rolls grow even plumper. Takumi gasps as the sides of his stomach press against bookshelves. His tire for a neck prevents him from turning, Takumi only able to see his growing body overtakes the room. He winces as the bookshelves topple over, his fat simply flowing over the mess. Soon, his arms refuse to budge as well, Takumi only able to wiggle his massively engorged digits. His fat continues its growth, Takumi immobilized by an ocean of his own fat. He shuts his eyes as his fat reaches the edges of the room. Expecting the worst, he waits expectantly for the walls to groan as his fat builds up and presses against all four walls. Nothing happening, he opens his eyes.

The room filled with his own fat, Takumi’s body stops its growth. Panic leaving his body, Takumi lets out a sigh. One problem resolved, his other problem of losing all this weight begins to sink in.

Though the problem sounds nowhere near as bad. Takumi finds the soft, cushiony piles of lard warm. “No, this isn’t happening,” Takumi immediately quiets down, surprised to hear the newfound depth to his voice. Definitely never having a high pitched or squeaky voice, the extra hundreds of pounds of lard seem to make sure no one would ever think that. His voice a bit deeper, Takumi whines as he finds himself enjoying the extra richness to his voice, always a bit too self conscious about how he sounded. Shoving that thought away as well, his face is red as he tries to divert his mind onto something else. They shift onto Kiran, Kiran hugging Takumi’s fat while she- “AARGH!” Stewing in his own lard, Takumi’s thoughts continue to focus on Kiran.

Making her usual rounds patrolling the Order’s base, Kiran stops in her tracks as a thud sounds out. Keeping a brisk pace, she watches her footsteps. The noise sounding from the library, Kiran easily slams open the door despite her small frame. Briedablik raised to summon a hero, Kiran instead finds the library in perfect order. A door in the back of the library creaking, Kiran quickly opens it.

She steps back as some pale gelatinous thing seeps forward. The object squeezes through the doorway, the rest of it still contained inside the room. Kiran presses a finger against it. Her entire finger sinks into the mass. Removing her finger, she presses her whole fist against it, the substance absorbing her hand up to her wrist.

“H-hey! Who’s there?” The strange pale blob responds to her prodding.

The voice sounding familiar, Kiran squints in concentration. The name of the voice’s owner ready to jump out of her mouth, the slight deepness throws her off, the voice an octave or two lowers than-

“Takumi?” Concern replacing any remaining confusion, Kiran crawls on top of the mass of fat. Careful to not step too harshly, she fits under the remaining space between the top of the doorway and Takumi’s lard. Her hands and feet sink into the blob known as Takumi. Hurrying her pace, Kiran shifts all her attention in climbing up. The large plate sized nipples mark Takumi’s breasts, the crease of fat not aiding with a myriad of rolls lining the entirety of Takumi’s body. Takumi’s moobs alone are larger than Kiran’s entire head, the pumped full of lard breast sagging to the side as it curves down Takumi’s bed crushing gut. Two smaller mounds of fat placed a bit further back and above Takumi’s pillows for a chest, Kiran sighs as she makes out Takumi’s face. An exaggeratedly puffed out version of Takumi’s face, his jowls even slightly sag onto his tire for a neck, Takumi’s neck comprised up of rolls just like the rest of his body. His partially visible hair gives it away to Kiran, Kiran devoting to memory Takumi’s long soft locks of hair. “Takumi!” Reaching his face, Kiran grab’s Takumi’s cheeks. She stares at his face, checking for anything and everything. “Takumi, are you okay? Who did this? Why were y-”

“I’m fine,” Takumi grumbles, his cheeks jiggling as he speaks. He doesn’t elaborate, instead preferring to shift his gaze away from Kiran.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Takumi snaps, his voice rising in intensity as he stares at Kiran. He quickly catches his mistake, sighing afterwards. “It’s just…” Takumi sighs a second time.

“It’s just what?” Kiran adjusts herself, shifting a bit back to give Takumi some space. When Takumi refuses to offer any more insight, Kiran speaks up. “Takumi, we’ve been through more stuff than we can remember together. If you ever have anything you want to tell me, I’m always here for you,” Leaning to the side, Kiran has to lie down on Takumi’s fat to reach his hand. Putting a pinky out, she wraps it around Takumi’s sausage of a pinky. “Pinky promise,” Sitting back up, she smiles at Takumi, finished with her piece.

Takumi continues his grumbling. He opens his mouth in random intervals before he clams up. A few minutes of silence passing by, Takumi lets out a short, exasperated groan. “It’s just, I know you were lying about saying I look cute when I was…” Takumi pauses. “When I was stocky, just to make me feel better,”

Kiran nods, allowing Takumi to keep speaking.

“So I decided to use some magic before our training session tomorrow. I managed to lose the weight, but when I tried to add a bit of muscle, this,” Takumi wobbles his arms in a poor imitation of gesturing to his corpulent body. His arms remain glued to his corpulent frame, Takumi unable to lift them.“Well, this happened,”

“Takumi,” Kiran pats the side of his cheek. Her hand is smaller than the surface area of Takumi;s cheek. “ I said what I meant back then. You look great regardless of your size,” Kiran grins, her face growing a flushed red, the same red as Takumi’s face whenever he stares at Kiran when he thinks she isn’t aware of his staring. “But,”

Takumi’s eyes widen, the shred of confidence gained deteriorating by the second. “But…”

“I honestly think you look much better with some weight on you,”

“Err, you already said that last time?” Takumi furrows his brows, his confused expression unfitting with his overly puffed out cherubic face.

“I mean you look great even now,”

“Oh.” Takumi’s face burns red, the cogs in his brain jamming as they register Kiran’s confession. “OH. I - um,” He winces at his sudden lack of speaking. “I don’t entirely think this is awful?” Takumi counter’s Kiran’s confession with his own before backpedaling. “But just for a while! Being this huge all the time is-”

A small chuckle bubbles in Kiran’s throat, her face grinning to stop the oncoming laughter before she lets loose, uproariously laughing to herself. She places a hand on her sides as her laughing fit continues, Kiran’s laughter devolving into a fit of coughs. “Sorry,” Kiran devolves into giggles for a few seconds. “Sorry,  I’m sorry. I just think you’re great and nothing can change that. So, remember to loosen up a bit once in a while. Cause, you’re special and irreplaceable to me,” Kiran smiles, her eyes crinkling as she stares at Takumi’s puffed out face. Bringing a gloved hand to his face, she pinches his cheeks, her smile as vibrant as ever.

Takumi whimpers at the praise, any sort of bold declarations rare in Hoshido’s culture. He retreats in his own fat, his bundles of necks squishing down as he tries to not turn as red as a fire tome. Flabbergasted, the wind knocked out of him and cognitive thinking destroyed, Takumi shyly looks back at Kiran, unable to do or say anything. Kiran is the first one to break the rather short silence, though Takumi finds the silence lasting longer than Corrin’s silence during her decision on which side to support back during the war.

“Well, you’ve probably been like this long enough, so I’ll go find someone to reverse this,” Kiran gives a second smile at Takumi, ruffling his hair in the process. She pushes herself off Takumi, sliding down his hill for a gut. She hurries off before Takumi can complain at her. Walking through the library, she heads over to the perfect person to ask. Going over to the nearest wing, the mages living closest to the library, Kiran knocks on a door.

“Give me a second,” The voice retorts back. Kiran grins up as Leo opens the door for her. Leo’s hair disheveled and his shirt on backwards, Kiran prefers to not mention his clear ready for bed state. “What is it now?” Leo rubs the bridge of his nose. He closes his door, stepping into the hallway.

“I need help reversing a spell,” Kiran leads the way, Leo walking beside her.

“That’s it?” Leo stifles a yawn with his hand. “It better not be far,”

“It’s in the library. Takumi messed up a spell,”

Leo’s eyes widen at Kiran’s confession. “I guess I’ll help him considering how woefully inept he is,” Any sort of dirt on Takumi the best kind of dirt, Leo savors the possibilities of being able to rub it in Takumi’s face about how he needed his help. “What kind of spell was it?”

“You’ll see,” Kiran remains silent for the rest of the short walk.

Entering the library, Leo squints his eyes as something seeps through one of the doors in the back. Stepping closer, he kicks the object, the object profusely shaking in response.

“Watch it!” The blob responds back.

“That’s Takumi; he messed up a growth spell,”

Leo stares at the mass upon hearing that it’s Takumi. “Maybe I’ll let this blunder aside,” He whispers under his breath. His face red, he clears his throat. “This will be easy,”

Before Leo can cast a spell to counter Takumi’s, Kiran grabs his arm. Pulling him down, she whispers into his ear. “You have to teach me the magic of whatever he did. And also make the fix last awhile,”

“Sure,” Leo responds without any hesitation. The more embarrassment for Takumi, the better. He stumbles back as Kiran hugs him. “Enough with the gratitude,” Ignoring the heat on his face, he begins reciting a spell as Kiran finally lets go. His spell a basic counter to the prior spell used on someone, a blue haze swirls around his fingers. The hue turns darker the further he recites the lines, Leo having memorized the spell. Finishing it, he presses his hand against the soft flesh of Takumi’s overflowing gut. The effects completely unnecessary, Leo grins as Kiran oohs and awes from his added little spectacle. “He should return to normal in a few hours,” Leo flushes as Kiran hugs him again.

“You’re the best, Leo!”

“Yeah, yeah. Now go do whatever it is you plan to do,” Escaping from Kiran’s vice-like grip, Leo heads back to his room.

Alone with Takumi once more, Kiran begins to climb Takumi’s immobile body. The soft warm pudge under her, and with the promise of learning the spell, the edges of Kiran’s eyes crinkle from her smile. No longer in a rush of concern, she savors the small climb. Checking around the room, she nearly loses her jaw upon realizing the sheer extent of  Takumi’s massive state. The room admittedly small, the fact does nothing to lessen the realization of the entire floor being covered by Takumi’s mammoth like body. So filled with his fat, the flab of Takumi’s ass begins to rise up along the wall, his lard propped up by even more lard in its desperation for room. His couch sized thighs do the same, the gargantuan appendages squeezed tight in between the wall and Takumi’s monstrous gut. Reaching Takumi’s face, she perches herself atop his breasts, the two massive jugs the most comfortable seat.

“I already feel the weight going away,” Takumi offers a slight smile, still embarrassed about the whole situation. The upper portion of his fat pressed up against the wall no longer feels as high. Neither does the lard escaping past the door.

“Good. They said that it’ll take a few hours to go away,”

“Oh,” Takumi glances down at himself. “You don’t have to stay just cause you feel bad for me,”

“I meant what I said earlier,” Kiran grabs Takumi’s cheeks. The two piles of fat sit heavily in her hands, her palms overflowing with Takumi’s cheeks.

“I just wanted to make sure,” Takumi continues to avert his gaze from Kiran’s. “At least this isn’t a terrible feeling,” Takumi clamps up at his further admission.

“See, I knew you’d realize how cute you look!” Kiran fusses with Takumi, squishing and pinching his cheeks as Takumi squirms under her touch. “But, first we have to wait out for the spell to be reversed,” Kiran holds on tight as Takumi’s body begins to shake, adeep guttural groan sounding from Takumi’s gut.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” Takumi whines, his face pained as his hunger begins to catch up to him.

“I’ll be right back, then. The mess hall should still be open” Inching herself closer, Kiran’s hands sink into Takumi’s expansive lard. The moment passing in an instant, Kiran presses her lips against Takumi’s. Pulling back as quickly as possible, a smile on her giddy face, she deftly climbs back down Takumi’s girth, heading off with an extra spring in her step.

His first ever kiss, Takumi’s mind races as it replays Kiran pecking him on the lips. His bright red face burns even brighter as his mind registers Kiran’s complete eagerness in his size. He fails to register his own extra eagerness as he smacks his lips, already hoping that maybe his size takes a bit longer to go away.