#being a writer with a cat is a struggle

[the-stars-sigh-when-i-get-high]

Downside to getting a kitten when you’ve got a 4am to 5pm schedule…that cat will be yowling for food by 6am every morning without fail😟

LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES😭

[brainrotcharacters]

deadclaws where Logan is not at all, shut the fuck up why would you say that, jealous of the attention Wade gives Mary Puppins

[nondelphic]

sci-fi writers will spend two weeks researching quantum physics just to write one paragraph, but when it comes to naming planets? oh, that’s just Bobtron-7.

[thatsmutaccount]

Me while writing smut: It's just porn, bro, it's not that deep

Also me: So, what kind of concatenation of events did bring this particular character to have this kind of mindset that developed into this specific type of action that resulted in this scenario?

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hiiii!! I hope you’re doing amazing! I’m sorry you’re having a bit of writers block at the moment as I know how difficult that can be!! I saw you opened your requests to see if that would help so I figured I would request something!

Maybe Rhea x Reader, where Reader is also a wrestler and her aesthetic is super girly and cute and bubbly (kinda like Tiffany Stratton) and something about it just draws Rhea in. Like she tried to act like she hates it and doesn’t like Reader, but eventually she just can’t and caves to how adorable Reader is and it brings out Rhea’s sweet side! 🩷

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️nothing major, rhea’s sexual thoughts tho…a lot of fluff and sweet moments, reader being a tease (let’s pretend rhea is still champion here) ‼️

heartbeat

rhea hated when someone tried to take her title away. but she hated even more when you became her main opponent for a title run.

you and the dark haired woman were completely the opposite. you were a face, she was a heel. you wore pink, she wore black. you were kind and loved backstage, she was a menace with anyone who dared to even look into her eyes.

she hated the idea of having to fight with you. she already handled a liv morgan, a tiffany stratton and now she had to face you.

she absolutely despised having you as her main opponent and no matter how many times she tried to resonate with adam, he said that you deserved that title run more than anyone. and she knew it too. she observed you. you were good, you were smart, you worked more on psychological fights than physical fights and for the first time, rhea was afraid.

you and her never really talked outside of the company. she wasn’t in your group and you weren’t in hers.

so the first time you got to share a few words was when you two had a promo and even if rhea looked so intimidating, you were ready for a challenge and you showed her who you really were.

“so you think you can take my title?” she shouted into the mic, staring at you. she looked for something that could have scared you away but she find nothing.

you simply laughed, taking a few steps forward her “i’m damn sure i can” you stated making the crowd cheer.

she was ready to reply back. she was so ready to put you in place but having you so close to her made her freeze. your vanilla scent intoxicating her. your challenging eyes never leaving her face. something about you made her even more interested into this feud. you made her heart beat fast and she couldn’t understand why.

“cat got your tongue, mami?” you teased her, hearing even more chants from the crowd.

“stay out of my way” she said coldly before dropping the mic to the ground and leaving the ring.

as days passed, rhea moved cautiously around you. observing you at the gym, observing the way your body moved inside the ring as you trained. she couldn’t help the filthy thoughts running in her head when she saw the sweat dripping down your body.

watching you fight other opponents and she hated admitting it but she found you extremely attractive. she never imagined herself being attracted by some barbie doll prototype but here she was.

you, flaunting your pink gear, your perfect make up and curled hair, ready to fight liv morgan - once again.

you knew it was going to be an easy match. you fought liv multiple times and you always won but somehow it didn’t go exactly as you planned. sure, you got your win but liv managed to injury you.

rhea watched all the match behind the scenes and a lump form in her throat.

how the heck did liv manage to injury you? she was supposed to keep you safe inside the ring just like you did with her and instead she fucked up and probably costed you a title run.

she should be happy that you weren’t her opponent any longer but she was actually looking for a chance to fight you.

you struggled walking back, helped by some trainers, they let you sit comfortably in the medical area as a doctor checked upon on you.

sprained ankle.

a couple of weeks of no fighting, no training at the gym and no title run opportunity. this was definitely not what you were expecting.

as you slowly walked back to the locker room, you were stopped by the infamous rhea ripley.

“hey…” she greeted you, making you look at her with a confused expression.

“i’m out of your way now, are you happy?” you sarcastically asked her but you saw how serious she was.

“no, not really…i was really looking forward to fight you, can’t believe im stuck again with that mid morgan girl” she said, clearly mad.

her words made you laugh “it won’t be for too long, give me a month to recover and then i’ll happily pin you down the floor” you teased, seeing her blush.

her strong facade fell when you talked dirty to her. she felt her cheeks burn but she tried to keep up with you “i can’t wait for that moment to come then…”

you were absolutely in for whatever rhea was trying to do with you “challenge accepted then, see you in a month” you winked but as soon as you tried to walk again, a sharp pain rang through your foot, making you flinch a little.

“hey, you okay?” rhea immediately asked when she saw the pain expression in your eyes.

“i have to get used to walk with just one foot” you laughed.

“here, let me help you…” her hand softly moved around your hip, helping you back to the locker room so you could gather your belongings and then go straight to the hotel. she walked slowly, never forcing you or your body.

“i didn’t know rhea was a kind one” you joked, making her laugh.

“i’m not. i never liked you y/n…this bubbly energetic person you are, i always hated it…too much pink, too much kindness” she whispered.

“why is it in the past?”

“because somehow your annoying personality caught my attention” she confessed, making you look at her with a teasing face.

“that’s good to keep in mind next time i’m facing you in the ring…” you said making her roll her eyes.

once you got to the locker room, rhea packed all of your stuff. your make up, your clothes, your perfume - the vanilla perfume - and she took the bag over her shoulder.

“do you need a ride to the hotel?” she offered and you couldn’t turn her offer down so you agreed.

as you were settled in her car, you found her to be a comforting presence. maybe she really wasn’t the mean one everyone talked about.

before you could speak, metal songs blasted through the speakers and it took you a couple of minutes to realise that you and rhea couldn’t be more different “do you really listen to that?” you asked, a little confused.

“yeah…it’s amazing” she happily said as she drove.

“it’s giving me a headache” you complained, making her roll her eyes for the second time that night.

“what do you listen uh? let me guess? taylor swift?” she said almost too annoyed.

“hey! she’s a good artist! and no, i listen other people too! i listen to people who actually make music and not scream into a microphone for three minutes straight” oh you were so in for a tease right now and seeing how she scrunched her nose made you feel like you were hitting the right buttons.

“let’s not start or i’ll drop you here in the middle of the road” she joked, clearly amused by the whole situation. you ended up sitting there and watching her driving fast around town.

she helped you with the bags and only left your hotel room once she made sure that you were okay. she even left you her phone number so you could call her in case something happened - as she said.

a week has passed and you couldn’t even lie to yourself - you were actually enjoying texting rhea and having random conversations in the middle of the night with her. you remember texting her once you got home and asked her if she wanted to come over as you were bored and reluctantly she accepted.

she would be lying to herself but you attracted her. you were like a magnet and she couldn’t get enough of you. she would help you any time you asked her.

randomly going through your tiktok, you heard the bell ringing and without thinking twice, you slowly got up and opened the door, finding an adorable rhea ripley with junk food in one hand and a pink fluffy blanket in the other.

you looked at her for a second, too stunned to speak.

“you letting me in or are we going to stare at each other all day long?” she asked, her usual sarcastic tone lingering with some sneaky jokes too.

“oh sorry, yeah, come in…i wasn’t expecting you with food and a pink blanket…i actually wasn’t expecting you at all” you joked, trying to ease the tension a little bit because you had no idea why was rhea in your living room now.

“i was at the supermarket and i had my day off, i saw the blanket and i thought you would like it…here” she handed you the blanket almost as she was annoyed by it, trying to maintain her dark and mean side but deep down you knew that she was a softie.

you gladly accepted the gift and invited her to sit on the couch with you “what about the food?” you teased her, seeing her rolling her eyes at any remark you made was now a habit.

“i was hungry and i thought you would like some food too…” she tried so hard not to go soft with you but your smile and bubbly personality were making it hard for her.

“rhea ripley thought of me? i feel honoured” you laughed making her giggle.

“shut up and eat while i pick a movie…” she stated as she started swiping movies catalogue on netflix.

she chose something fun, something romantic, knowing that it was your favourite genre of film.

“i’m pretty sure you’re studying me so in two weeks you know how to make me lose against you for the title run” you joked, making her laugh.

“honey, there’s no way you’re gonna beat my ass during that run, that’s my title and my title only but i’ll happily pin you down” she turned her face to you, a sneaky smirk on her face as her mind fantasised about the idea of having to pin you down, under her body.

“you so sure about that ripley?” you tested her “what if i am the one to pin you down?

rhea wouldn’t mind having you over her to be honest. in any other situation she would have let you being in charge but not when there was her title on the line.

“we will see in a couple of weeks” she winked “now watch the movie before i put some freaky horror on” she teased you knowing how much you hated horror movies.

“okay mami” you whispered making her roll her eyes - again. you displayed the pink blanket over your body and over rhea’s body too “before you say anything, it’s cold outside and i don’t wanna hear you complain for the next two hours” but rhea definitely wasn’t going to complain. she never had you so close, your body was like a magnet and was so close to hers that it was enough to keep her warm. your head softly laid over her shoulder and even if you couldn’t see her, you felt her body relax against you.

maybe she was going to pin you in the ring but you knew who was really in charge outside of the company and seeing her so calm and relaxed in your presence made you feel something different about your friendship, as if there was something more but you couldn’t really point it out.

spending the rest of the night in each other’s company, joking and laughing about the smallest things.

as the second movie of the night ended, you really needed to stretch yourself out as you grew a little uncomfortable sitting for almost four hours in the same position. she helped you standing up and you slowly tested the water, instead of putting your hands around her shoulders as you always did, you put them around her waist.

the height difference between you two was pretty obvious but that didn’t stop you to have your way with her “i have a feeling you feel something for me” you teased her watching her in her eyes.

“i don’t know what you are talking about…” she tried so hard to maintain her composure but she was struggling, especially when she had you so close.

“so what if i asked you to kiss me? would you back up?” you always been a tease but this was something else even for you.

“no…” she whispered, her eyes softly looking down at you.

before she could make any move, you kissed her. your lips meeting her soft ones, a smile pressed on her face as you kept kissing her “i’m definitely gonna pin you rhea” you whispered, making her chuckle.

“keep dreaming barbie” as she grew more comfortable, her hand moved behind your back and pressed you against her body “remember, it’s always monday night mami…” her devious look was back as if you helped her gain her confidence back around you.

“you know…i’m always in for a challenge…”

yeah, maybe she was the rhea ripley but you knew how good you were and being able to tease her and make her so flustered around you was definitely a weapon in your sleeve.

“we will see pretty girl…” falling in love with the enemy wasn’t definitely her plan but somehow you managed to make her heart beat faster anytime you were close and now she felt like she couldn’t get enough of you.

————————————-

i’m receiving a few requests and i’m trying to overcome my writer block 🤞🏼🩷 thank you for your patience and kind words 🩷🩷

[blitzyn]

pervert

miguel o'hara x spiderman!reader

request : none

Synopsis: A game of cat and mouse goes to shit, and you find yourself bound in Miguel's webs.

a/n -> literally nobody asked for this but he's been stuck in my mind for decades and i wanted to get something out for my bbg <3 also super sorry i disappeared again, writers block straight up bitch slapped me and left me in a ditch, plus ive been losing interest in writing for genshin or just the game in general, unfortunately.

wc -> 3.3k

cw -> very dubcon, mean dom miguel, degradation, bondage?, face fucking, google translated spanish, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, slight and brief choking, (semi) public sex??, not beta read

Exhilaration filled your veins as breathy laughs escaped your throat, weaving through buildings and rubble with the precision of someone who has experienced this type of chase countless times before.

And that's because you have. You've been in a near never-ending game of cat and mouse with the esteemed Miguel O'Hara, always close enough to feel the swipe of his talons in the air but too far to catch. No matter how many times he's cornered you, you always find a way to get past him; it was predictable at this point.

That pissed Miguel off like no other, hellbent on capturing you to put an end to your snide remarks, to put you in your place. While that usually would've enticed you in any other circumstance, you weren't too keen on letting him dig his claws into you now that you were chest-deep in this predicament — and his wrath.

"Stop running, already!" he shouted, the sharp edges of fury evident in his voice.

"I'm not running!" you respond, peering back at him with a smug grin. True to your words, you, quite literally, were not running. You were swinging with the agility of a seasoned acrobat, twisting and flipping through debris while looking like you were having fun. You offered him occasional glances and nearly laughed each time. Seeing him, a grown-ass man, almost constantly on all fours was amusing, but hearing him curse and grunt and growl made electricity shoot down your spine in a way that nearly got you caught several times.

Adrenaline filled your body and threatened to burst through your chest each time you evaded him. "Missed me!" you laughed, juking away from his swipe.

"So close!" you flip over him with a taunt. "Try again next time!"

"¡Voy a matarte!¹" He growls, and it was hard to ignore the shudder that rushed through your body. You slightly winced at the feeling. If you don't get your shit together when he spoke Spanish, then you were asking to get caught.

But it's not like you'd mind — Actually, yes, you fucking would!

You click your teeth in annoyance. Despite how hard you tried, you couldn't remove Miguel from your thoughts even though he was right behind you, hunting you down like a wild animal. Your mind strayed toward his broad shoulders, beautifully tiny waist, fat ass (that you'd give a lot to slap), and the massive piece of rubble being hurled at your body.

You blink out of your stupor, feeling your senses going off rather violently. Oh shit.

Everything seemed to move painfully slow as you stared at the debris with wide eyes, noticing Miguel's red web attached to it as he brought it down. You flung your arm out in an attempt to attach your webs to something and swing away, but was unable to pull yourself fast enough as the debris pinned you down to the roof of a building.

"Fuck!" you thought as you grunted and squeezed your eyes shut, agony tearing through your entire body. Swiftly, you pushed against the ground to shove the heavy object off of you, groaning with effort. Just as you managed to stand back up, you heard the familiar thwip! of his web wrapping around your waist and arms to yank you to him.

"Caught you," he said, voice rough and breathless as he panted hard. He loomed over you menacingly, hands curled into a fist.

You struggled, kicking and straining against your binds. "Come on, Miguel." You offer a tense grin. "We both know this won't last very long."

"Ay dios míos,²" he growled, dropping to a knee to roughly press a hand on your face, his fingers digging into your cheekbones. "¡Cállate!³"

...

Woah.

You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling your cock stir in your pants. Oh fuck.

It was hard to ignore your ever growing attraction (and hard-on) for him that seemed to intensify when he deactivated the hologram of his mask. Sweat beaded at his temple while his eyes narrowed at your bound figure, fangs peeking out from behind his lips as he caught his breath.

Even when you were the target of his anger, he was still breathtakingly hot.

You opened your mouth again to shout at him — probably to let you go or something along those lines — but Miguel wasn't having it.

"Why is it so much to ask for you to keep your fucking mouth shut for once?" he hissed, squeezing your cheeks tight enough to ache, but it only went straight to your dick. "Is that all you can do? Run your mouth until someone gets sick of your shit and shuts it for you? Huh?"

You whimpered, meekly shaking your head in denial. Tightly closing your eyes, you swallowed hard and squirmed, secretly trying to will away your hard cock straining against your clothes.

"You're so annoying! Stop moving," he demanded, reflexively looking down to adjust his position over you. His eyes raked over your body for a moment before zeroing in on your erection, pausing in surprise.

.

..

...

"Oh, you pervert."

Your eyelids snapped open at his words, mortification seeping deep in your chest as you shifted your head away from him in shame. Despite everything, you could only feel yourself getting harder under his intense gaze.

"Is that why you made me chase after you?" He forced you to look at him again, your face aching at his manhandling. "Because you wanted to fulfill some dirty fantasy of yours?"

He let out a dry laugh. "You couldn't find anyone willing to satisfy that depraved urge, so you turned to me. Just how desperate are you?"

You shook your head again, letting out muffled words. He mercifully removed his hand from your mouth to allow you to speak, sliding lower to rest on your throat. "I was just playing..."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head mockingly, momentarily adjusting himself to grope your painfully stiff dick. "And this was your master plan? To get off at the face of danger? You're more of a degenerate than I thought."

"N-No, I didn't—" you moaned, reflexively bucking your hips up into his hand.

"Stop lying." He squeezed the hand around your throat just enough to force labored gasps from you. "It's stupid how you don't think I've seen the way you look at me — how you think I haven't noticed you eyefucking me."

A furious blush rises on your cheeks as your cock twitches in his hold. It doesn't go unnoticed.

He laughed again, staring at you in mock disbelief. "You're enjoying this."

And this time, you don't deny it.

"Can't say I expected anything higher from you." He rolled his eyes in exasperation and removed his hands from your throat and dick to place them on your thighs. Effortlessly, he pried them apart to slot himself in between your legs, pressing his crotch flush against your ass.

Groaning, you lifted your hips a bit in an attempt to grind on him. With a growl, he swiftly slapped a hand on your abdomen to push you back on the ground.

"Don't move," he said, glaring at you with a mix of arousal and irritation in his eyes. "I've had enough of you getting your way." He leaned forward, a wince crossing your face when he pressed some of his weight onto your stomach. "It's my turn."

"My way—?" You cut yourself off with a huff when he gave you a stern look.

A thought seemed to pique his interest when he suddenly decided to kneel beside your head. It was nigh impossible to tear your eyes away from his crotch, the area beginning to glitch with a dim, pale blue glow at the strain from his hardening cock.

"Let's put your mouth to better use." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and deactivated the hologram covering his dick. It landed on your face with a quiet slap before his hand guided it to your lips.

You hesitantly parted them, only for them to be forced open wider to make room for his cock. You let out a surprised sound at the entry, but he was entirely focused on making you take him completely.

He was gracious enough to take it slow, relishing in the sounds of your gags and sputters and every deep inhale.

"Thaaat's it," he drawled out, sighing heavily when he felt your tongue rub against the underside of the shaft. "Fuck..."

Your eyelashes fluttered as he buried your nose into his pubic hair, uncontrollably drooling over him while you sucked and licked what you could. You felt him harden in your mouth, forcing himself deeper into your throat while it tightened and spasmed.

He increased the speed of his thrusts, absentmindedly shuffling closer to your face. A shiver ran down your spine when he slithered a hand on the junction between the back of your head and neck to hold you firmly.

A garbled whine left your throat as you subconsciously jerked your hips upwards, searching for some form of relief for your aching cock. You strained against the webs around your torso and arms, utterly intoxicated with his taste, his scent, his sounds—with him.

With a groan, he shoved himself as far as he could inside your throat and held you in place, ignoring how you instinctively struggled against him. A high-pitched ring sounded through your ears as your head spun, chest tightening with the need for oxygen.

Shuddering, he finally pulled out of you, watching with satisfaction as you coughed and gasped for air. A mix of saliva and precum connected your lips and the tip of his cock, to which you quickly licked away. You let him inspect you with a hand still buried in your hair, gaze locked in on your drool slicked chin and swollen lips.

A quiet hmph left him before he turned to place himself back in-between your thighs again, this time extending his talons to tear a path in your clothes from your ass to your crotch.

"H-Hey! Hold on—" you protested and kicked his arm away from you.

"Shut up," he cut you off, swatting your foot away while grasping your painfully hard cock again. "Don't act like you don't want this."

"G-God..." you moaned, furrowing your brows as you stared at him. A squeak left your throat when he suddenly pressed your legs to your chest, a quiet ptuh! escaping his lips alongside a glob of saliva that landed on your asshole.

Retracting his talons, he let go of one of your legs to press two fingers against your hole, shoving them inside you abruptly. You winced at the sting his thick fingers made as it mixed in with the arousal that burned in your gut. He separated them in a scissoring motion, moving in and out at a pace that had you yearning for more. His fingertips brushed against spots so frustratingly close to your prostate, you were sure he was purposefully avoiding it to mess with you.

"H-Hurry up," you demanded, the ache in your balls beginning to prove to be something you could hardly handle.

He gave you a sharp look. "Tell me to hurry up again and I'm leaving you like this."

You stared at each other for a moment longer before you looked away in defeat, muttering under your breath. He ignored you and added another finger, the wet squelching blending in with your soft moans. His hard cock pressed on your thigh, and you briefly wondered how he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life already.

Quickly enough, you were able to realize that he wanted to make you wait. He wanted to give you a hard time — just like you did to him.

"C-C'mon, Miguel." You breathlessly chuckled, straining against the webs around your torso.

"What?" He raised a brow, satisfaction seeping into his expression at your growing desperation.

You opened your mouth again when he unexpectedly jabbed his fingertips onto your prostate, sending a violent surge of electricity through your body. "Fuck!" You cried out as a spurt of precum leaked out of your dick and enlarged the wet spot on your clothes. He continued targeting the gland, refusing to let you get a word in your sentence. The coil in your abdomen tightened into an almost unbearable degree before he abruptly removed his hand from you entirely.

"God, just fuck me already!" You jerked your hips upwards in a futile search for stimulation.

"You sound just like a whore," he commented, tone full of condescension. A heat washed over your body at his words as you stared at him with wide eyes. You tensed when he leaned down, lust and mirth swirling within his red irises. "Is that all you are?"

"What?" You found yourself unable to look away from him. "N-No, I—"

He shoved his cock inside you mid-sentence, tearing a loud moan from your throat. He held your thighs to fold you in half, using his body weight to pin you down. You panted hard as you tilted your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut. It was hard to focus on anything else but his dick filling you up so perfectly.

Miguel released a gutteral groan, grinding his hips against you. He dug his fingertips into your legs hard enough to bruise, but that was the least of his worries — not when he had you below him. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned back (mercifully removing some of the pressure on your chest) and watched himself move in and out of you, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed himself back inside.

"Ohh, fuck!"

"This is what gets you — mierda⁴ — all compliant, huh?" He taunted, abdomen flexing with every thrust. "The moment you get some dick inside you, you're like a trained mutt."

You opened your eyes to weakly glare at him, to deny what he said, but the moans spilling from your lips did nothing but prove him right.

"Te gusta cuando te trato como si no fueras nada, ¿no?⁵" He leaned back down, hooking his arms around the back of your knees as he pressed his chest against yours, curling his wrists around your thighs to grip the flesh. His breath was hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, lips so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice in your ear drum. "Aren't I right, you dirty little pervert?"

"N-No! S'not right!" You cried out, the burn of his cock stretching you out mixing in with the pleasure so deliciously it was almost addicting.

"Deja de mentirte y admítelo, puta,⁶" he hissed, widening his mouth to graze a fang along your neck threateningly, which sent a shiver down your spine. "Admit it — that you're a depraved whore."

"Admit it." He emphasized each syllable with a thrust, ramming into you hard enough to fuck the breath out of your lungs.

"Shit—fuck! Oh, god!" You sobbed, arching your back into him. You nearly came at the feeling of his abdomen rubbing your aching dick. "I'm a whore! M'your whore!"

His cock throbbed fervently at your words, rewarding you with groans and grunts directly into your ear. Your ass slightly stung at the force of his thrusts as he fucked his anger into you, but neither of you cared.

"Fuuuck!" You drawled out. "Miguel, m'so close! Let — ngh, ah — Let me cum!"

"Yeah?" He cooed in your ear, gently licking the shell. "You gonna cum f'me?"

"Yes, yes—!"

"Then beg."

He stopped moving so unexpectedly that it left you disoriented for a few moments as you stupidly stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "W-What...?"

"Beg to cum," he leaned away from you to get a clearer look at your face. "I'm not repeating myself."

You took a moment to catch your breath (and secretly savor the feeling of his dick twitching inside you). "God, please, Miguel! I need it so bad. I need to cum — please let me cum! I'll be good, I promise! Fuck, Miguel, please let me cum! Please, please, please!"

The sight of the tears along your lash lines sent electricity down his spine as his breath hitched. "You'll be good?" He dryly laughed. "I don't think I believe you."

You opened your mouth in defense when he suddenly slammed himself back inside you, tearing a moan instead of words from your throat. He fucked you hard and fast and deep, grunting in a way you could only describe as animalistic.

But you loved it. You loved how he controlled your body so effortlessly, how he treated you like a cheap fuck toy. You mentally deemed all those chases worth it in the end.

The heat from less than a minute or two prior returned full force as you tilted your head back in ecstasy. You babbled out incoherent words of (what Miguel suspected to be) praise, straining against your binds once again.

You screamed out when the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, electricity shooting down your spine as your cock spurt cum underneath your clothes. You weren't able to process the stain in the fabric when you realized that he hadn't slowed down, deciding to fuck you through your orgasm to chase his own.

You stared up at him, admiring the slight flush on his cheeks, how his brows furrowed in concentration, and even his eyes that shone with disdain towards you.

You could feel his dick throbbing inside you, and you quickly realized that he was about to cum as well. The ecstasy you were granted slowly began to merge with the pain of overstimulation, but it only made the hazy bliss you were in so much better.

"Yes, yes, Miguel!" You gasped out as your legs trembled in his hold. "Cum inside me, please, I want it!"

He grunted at your words, fucking you with a few more harsh thrusts before he suddenly pulled out. It took you a moment longer than normal for you to process the uncomfortable emptiness as he let go of one of your legs to quickly jerk himself off.

"What—No! Please, Miguel!" You pleaded uselessly, wincing when he tightened his grip on your thigh and unintentionally extended his talons. They penetrated through your clothes and pierced your skin, drawing a bit of blood, but that was neither of your concern at the moment.

"Ay, solo cállate ya,⁷" he growled, releasing your thigh to press his palm against your mouth to silence you. You let out pathetic whines and whimpers, but Miguel was focused on achieving his orgasm.

With a final few strokes, he finally came with a loud groan as his cum spurt onto the floor. He angled his hips to make sure none of it landed on you, much to your obvious dismay. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and stared at your bound body, trembling and helpless. It was satisfying to see you in such a state.

He reactivated the hologram over his softening cock before binding your legs together in a way that hid the large hole in your pants to prevent anyone from figuring out what the two of you did.

He sighed heavily and slung you over his shoulder, standing up to look around and figure out where the fuck he was.

"You have a really nice ass," you commented after a moment, unable to keep your compliments to yourself.

He groaned. It was gonna be a long trip back to HQ.

Translations:

1: "I'm going to kill you!"

2: "Oh my god."

3: "Shut up!"

4: "Shit..."

5: "You like it when I treat you like you're nothing, don't you?"

6: "Stop lying to yourself and admit it."

7: "Oh, just shut up already."

cross-posted on ao3

[amuyyi]

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it. 

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.) 

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man. 

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add! 

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them. 

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream. 

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, ��I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…” 

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness. 

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this  played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And aren't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth. 

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

[lackadaisycats]

Does anyone truly love and care about Rocky besides Calvin? I feel like you gave 3 somewhat contradictory answers to this, the comic, which has Zib, Mitzi and Ivy expressing compassion to Rocky, the art gallery (I include Fables work)which can be a tiny bit mean to him and Your tumblr responses which imply but not directly state that Mitzi/Zib do indeed care. BTW I don’t mean that you/fable are bad people, I sincerely admire you as people and creators! I just struggle to see the answer to this.

Yes. There are characters that care about Rocky, but it's complicated. It is possible to love someone, for instance, while not really being able to abide living with them. It's possible to care about someone without wishing to be inseparable buddies with them. The core of Rocky's nature does make it difficult for him to find places where he easily fits in, and that much is not really his fault. However, he does have agency, and he has - with gusto - taken on a role that calls for him to lean into the destructive aspect of his nature. It's fine to feel a bit sympathetic about the first part, but that doesn't mean that he should get a pass on the rest, narratively speaking. Some of the lumps he's taken have been unearned, but many of them have been the results of his own (often violent) machinations. As there are numerous frantic messages in my inbox that I assume are all from you, I get that you relate to Rocky on some level. There's nothing wrong with that - as a writer, you tend to want your characters to be relatable. And as a reader, you perhaps experience a deeper, richer connection to story that way. I think a lot of us have felt like we struggle to fit in anywhere too. I certainly know that feeling. But you have to draw a line between yourself and a crafted fiction. Rocky might get teased, punched in the face, or tossed out on his tail in this world of criminal cats, but that is not emblematic of how you deserve to be treated. You deserve love, compassion, and kindness, same as every non-fictional human being. Please take that to heart. Please stop messaging me about this.

[carto0ncritter]

People are so desperate for LGBT representation, (specifically gay and lesbian couples), that they're willing to accept literally any homosexual ship regardless of the concerning elements.

Let's see, we have ass ships like

1)Stolitz - Stolas is an abuser, a r*pist, a racist man who has so many powers yet is emotionally fragile, passive and wimpy, a man who victimizes himself over and over, a man who emotionally neglects the child who desperately needs him for his sexual fantasies with his victim, a man who is the creator's pet, a man whose actions aren't wrong according to the writers, a man who can just blame everyone else around him but himself with no consequences

2) Catradora - Catra is an abuser too, but was treated like a cute kitty cat in s5 despite having done atrocious things, she was instantly forgiven with no consequences, and she ended up dating her sister and the biggest victim of her abuse

3) Huskerdust - I haven't talked about this one so far, but Angel sexually harassed Husk and never apologized, Husk himself sang "Loser, Baby" and as a SA survivor I felt like he was trying to say this to Angel: "Oh, you've hit rock bottom because of SA? It's your fault lol, accept that you're a whiny bitch and a loser even tho the problem is extremely serious and out of your control and just suck it up, I'm a loser too despite not going through the same thing you have, you're not alone in being a loser BUT YOU ARE STILL A LOSER BABYYY A LOOOSER" Like, ik the message was supposed to be how we're not alone in our struggles and how there's always someone who will understand and make us feel less alone, but the way this was handled rubbed me the wrong way. Also, I'm not sure whether or not to mention this as well (screw it, I will), but Husk is described as "the old bartender," his voice sounds like it belongs to an old dude too, and he apparently died when he was like, 70, while Angel died in his 30's. I'm not gonna calculate their ages based on how it works in Hell because personally I feel like it doesn't matter. What matters is how old they were when they were alive. But however you decide to look at their ages, it's not just the implied enormous age gap that bothers me, no... it's more so the difference in maturity between Husk and Angel. Husk is described as a dude who has seen and experienced a lot of stuff. On the other hand, Angel is clearly immature and there is this weird... emotional imbalance between them? It's like a mentor dating his apprentice, at least that's how I see it. I'm not saying dating someone who's 40 years older than you is morally wrong (if you're both adults) but IT IS WEIRD imo, especially since Angel & Husk are not on the same page when it comes to life experience and maturity. Oh yeah, I also don't think Angel should be in any kind of romantic relationship... for his own good

[uyuuma]

“ HIT ME WITH YOUR KILLSHOT, BABY ”

hitman!toji x fem!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. he was just on another job, why did you have to go and make it more difficult? normally he isn't sloppy with his work but you were a witness and he had to deal with you somehow.

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, murder (toji's target dead as hell), gun mentioned, choking, reader being tied up, rough handling, degradation, biting, unprotected sex etc.

❥ a/n. sorry for inactivity recently... having a little bit of writers block fr. decided to just write anyways. (no but my requests are open y'all gimme some ideas!!!) but yeah as soon as i sit in front of my screen im like 'i could write but i think imma play some more valorant' lmaoo

❥ wc. 5.2k

You sighed as you walked down the narrow urban streets of the big city. Your heels clacked on the pavement and the cold air stung your exposed shoulders. Why did you decide to go out? It was just another shitty night at the club, where the loud music was overwhelming and creepy men hit on you constantly.

"Tonight was a bust." You said under your breath, hands clutching onto your elbows trying to conserve warmth. Your breath was warm and you could see it travel as if you blew smoke into the air.

You should've just stayed home and cuddled up next to your cat, watching YouTube or Netflix. Instead you found yourself walking alone on the quiet streets, not even cars were driving by. It was almost eerie how deserted the city was around you. Perhaps it was because it was 2 in the morning, but it still sent shivers down your spine thinking about how dangerous it was to walk alone.

All you have to do is get to the bus stop, there was a bus scheduled to come by at 2:30 am. You clutched onto the little pocket knife that was disguised as a hair comb in your purse. It wasn't much, but it was something at least.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize there was a scuffle happening in the upcoming alley way you were walking up to. Sounds of someone struggling and choked back cries. It took the sound of something cracking violently to make you look up in shock. You turned the corner carefully to a sight most horrifying for a girl alone on the streets.

A large man was standing over another one who was slumped over onto the dirty floor. Crimson pooling onto the cement below his head, traveling slowly over to the other man's shoe. Your jaw dropped at the sight, breath caught in your throat. What the hell did you just walk in on?

"Disgusting, it touched my shoe." a raspy voice scoffed. The voice was aimed away from you, since the man hadn't noticed your presence yet. He had a silenced pistol in his hand and as it dangled above the floor, you realized that's what made the cracking sound. Your eyes widened realizing this might be a real-life hitman. He was dressed in a suit and his gun had modifications that no normal criminal would have.

The man angrily slid his black dress shoe on the cement, trying to clean the blood off of it.

You gasped at the realization that you did not belong in this situation at all and turned around to run back towards the club. You'd rather take your chances at the club than continue walking past the alleyway to get to the bus stop. Unfortunately, your gasp had not only alerted the man, but also your clacking heels colliding with the pavement when you turned.

The man looked behind to see you turning tail and booking it, a disappointed groan escaping his throat. How could he have been caught? Who the hell is taking a leisurely stroll at this time of night? All he could do was chase after you, he had no choice. He couldn't leave any witnesses behind.

As he turned the corner to see you running, he noticed that you took your heels off to run barefoot. He smirked, thinking you to be clever for at least not being dumb enough to sprint in heels. Unfortunately for you, he was a professional and knew exactly how to catch up to you.

You could swear you put enough distance between you and that horrific murder scene, all you could hear was the pounding in your chest and your exasperated breath. You took just a fleeting second to stop running and catch your breath, resting your hands on your knees as you inhaled and exhaled carefully.

In a matter of moments someone roughly grabbed you from behind and wrapped strong arms around your neck. You let out a strained scream as your hands clawed at the bulging biceps that held a tight grip on your delicate throat. Your lungs burned with the sensation of being strangled from behind, you desperately kicked and clawed to the best of your ability. To no avail, you could feel your vision become blurry.

"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be out alone at this time of night." The man whispered into your ear as you lost consciousness.

His muscles began to relax as you became limp in his arms. It would take only another 10 seconds to kill you, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to. He decided he'd take you with him and figure out a plan later. First and foremost, he needed to clean up the body of his target. Once he finished his job, he could deal with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・✭・.

After some time, you slowly awoke to the feeling of a cold cement floor. You were laying on your side and your neck was still sore from prior events. You tried to open your eyes, but realized you were blindfolded by something. You went to swallow from the dry feeling in your mouth but felt that you were gagged as well. What a nightmare this whole situation is, at least you weren't dead right?

You started to squirm, trying to get yourself free from whatever was binding you. Nothing worked though, whoever tied you up knew exactly what they were doing. You started to panic as most of your senses were stripped from you, the only thing you had left was smell and sound.

Sound may have been your enemy in this moment though, as it made your mind race from the anticipation of hearing footsteps enter the room. The footsteps echoed loudly, ringing in your head as you froze in fear. From how the sounds reverberated in the room, you could tell you were in a large, empty space.

You laid on the floor, helplessly, mind wondering what the hell was going to happen to you. If this man didn't just kill you right away what other sadistic things did he have planned? Or perhaps he was going to hold you for ransom? Fuck, whatever it was it couldn't end well for you.

The footsteps came closer and closer until they stopped next to you. A gust of air that blew down on you indicated that he lowered himself onto one knee to get a closer look. You could smell cologne and a faint metallic aroma, what you assumed to be the blood on his shoes. You felt two strong fingers press against your neck. The feeling caused you to jolt in shock.

"Well, you're certainly not dead." The voice said with slight amusement. It was the same deep voice that you heard in the alleyway, there was no mistaking who this was. He slid his fingers off your neck, knowing he didn't have to check for a pulse if you were moving on your own.

His eyes scanned your form, how it was obvious you just came back from a night out. The way you wore a revealing dress and your hair was all done up, well until he roughed it up a bit.

"Someone came back from a night of fun, I see." He said mockingly as he ran his hand through your hair. "Precious thing like you shouldn't be out there alone, what're you stupid?" He asked yanking your hair slightly.

Your little muffled whimpers made him chuckle. "See what happens when you go out by yourself? You end up bound and gagged like this." He was thoroughly enjoying your panicked squirms and whines when he looked down at his watch. He saw that it was already getting close to sunrise. He needed to figure out what he was going to do with you.

"Alright, well I gotta figure a way for you to keep your mouth shut." The voice said as you heard him rustling through something. You heard items fall onto the floor next to you, terrified at what they might be. You then heard him let out an amused laugh.

"Did you think this tiny thing would stop someone? Oh sweetheart, you're too naive." He tossed something plastic on the floor as he continued to go through a bag of some kind.

It hit you that he was talking about the tiny blade you kept in your purse. He was going through your belongings in your purse!

"Cute name and you're still pretty young." He said as you assumed he was reading the info off your ID. "Be a real shame to cut that life of yours so short." You could tell he said that with a wide grin.

Your panic heightened at the implication that he might have to kill you after all, you were ready to plead for your life. Even if you couldn't talk at this very moment, your body flailed trying to protest the very idea.

"Chill, I'd never kill such a pretty little thing such as yourself." He said continuing to dig through your purse.

"But I don't know... if you keep resisting like that maybe I will." He taunted as he pulled something else from the purse, something that was lodged into the deep crevices of the bag.

"A condom huh?" He said as his voice piqued with interest. He admired the thin packaging between his two large fingers.

"Ah hah, I see what you were doing now." He pulled down your blindfold so that you could look at him.

Your vision adjusted as you squinted. You looked around briefly and saw that you were in what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. Your gaze then fixed on the man that held you captive.

Your eyes widened as you came to the realization that he was... really hot? His eyes had a piercing, dark gaze and he had a small scar on the corner of his lips. His black hair was shaggy and it covered his eyes almost. He seemed to take off his black jacket from earlier, which left him in just a white button up. His muscles and large shoulders could barely be contained by the shirt. The fabric clung onto his large frame and it was mesmerizing. You were lost in his features, not realizing you were practically gawking at him.

"Did you just fall in love?" He smirked down at you, pulling the blindfold off of you. His black gloves glistened as he gripped the fabric of the blindfold.

You looked away in embarrassment, how could you gawk at someone who had you tied up on the floor? Seriously, get a grip girl.

He eyed the condom and then looked down at you with a mischievous smirk. "Did you go out in hopes for some good dick?" He said playing with it between his fingers.

You stared at him in silence. Your mind went blank.

"Bitch, answer me when I ask you a question." He said as his expression changed to annoyance.

You quickly nodded, trying not to get on his nerves. So what if you went out in hopes of getting laid? You were going through a dry spell and wanted someone to blow your back out. Was that so hard to ask for?

"Hmm, this might work out then." The man said as he held his chin in thought. He looked back down at you and smiled.

"How about a deal then..." He leaned down closer to your face so that he could whisper.

"I fuck your pretty little brains out and you pretend like you saw nothing. Got it?" He said as he tilted his head to the side.

"I mean it's that or I shoot your pretty little brains out. I don't know, your choice." He added on with a shrug.

You writhed against the floor trying to plead with him for your life, but you were still gagged.

"Oh right, can't understand you." He pulled the saliva soaked gag out of your mouth and quickly clamped his own hand over your lips.

"Oh and just a little warning, it is not a good idea to scream." He said coldly, hand clutching at your jaw a little too hard.

You nodded in his grasp, face heating up from how close he was to you. He smiled and let go of your jaw.

"Good girl, now tell me what you'd like." He said adjusting the collar of his shirt.

"P-please don't kill me, sir." You mewled out as your eyes welled up with tears.

He groaned in dissatisfaction and rolled his eyes. "The name's Toji and I told you I won't have to kill you because you have another option." He picked up your chin with his hand and got close enough to your face to feel his breath hot on yours.

"Not many men in my position would even give you an option. Now, tell me what you want." He softly dragged his thumb across your soft lips. A smirk creeped onto his face as he enjoyed your terrified expression.

You hesitated to respond for a moment. "P-please fuck my pretty little brains out... I won't tell a soul about what happened today." You couldn't believe the words you were saying right now. I mean, you were only saying what you needed to, to live right?

"See, you're a smart girl after all." Toji said with a wide grin. He carefully undid the ropes that bound you. The ropes left small burns and a bruise, but other than that you were virtually unharmed. He helped you off of the floor and handed you back your purse.

You looked at him confusedly as you held your purse. Was he letting you go?

"What? Did you think I was some sort of monster who'd fuck you on the cold floor? Nah, a pretty girl like you deserves at least a plush hotel bed." He said moving some of your hair behind your ear.

Your face warmed up from his sudden chivalrous attitude. You found it almost suspicious how kind he was.

He then crushed the little plastic comb knife beneath his foot.

"Don't try anything fucking stupid though. I hope you're clever enough to know you shouldn't take my kindness for granted." He said as he twisted his shoe against the plastic remnants.

You could only nod as you swallowed the knot growing in your throat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・✭・.

The car ride was silent, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. He was quiet and kept his eyes on the road. You looked at the time on the dashboard and saw that it was already 4 am.

He parked the car and came around to your door to let you out. You quietly stepped out and held onto your purse as he closed the door.

Without a word, he walked in front of you to the hotel and held the door open. He motioned you to walk in, a faint smile on his lips.

You could run, right now. You could run and scream and call for help. It would be over in an instant for him if you did.

Yet, his confident smile made you realize that he knew you wouldn't. He knew through digging in your bag that you needed this. You needed him badly.

You walked slowly through the door, hips swaying seductively as you walked by him.

He glanced at your ass and cleared his throat as he followed you in.

"Sorry sir, we have no vacant rooms at this time. Maybe you'd like to try-" The old man looked up from his computer and his eyes widened.

"My apologies Toji, we'll get a room for two ready right away." He said hurriedly, punching in a number into the phone on his desk.

You looked up at him shyly, wondering how his mere presence was enough to get him a room on a whim.

"Just the many perks of my job." He said, leaning down to softly speak into your ear.

"Here's your room key Toji, it is on the top floor for you and your missus." The old man said, placing the card into Toji's hand.

"Not my missus yet, maybe after tonight she'll be convinced." Toji chuckled. "Thanks ol' man." He said as he grabbed your hand.

He led you to the elevator where you two stood in silence on the ride up. Your breathing became harder to control as you felt the anticipation grow in your gut.

The elevator dinged as you reached the top floor. He walked out first, heavy footsteps could be heard on the carpeted floors of the hallway. When you guys reached the door he scanned the card and let you walk in first. You walked in carefully, observing the room around you. It was like a penthouse suite... clearly the stuff reserved for the wealthy.

Your mouth hung open as you looked out the massive window overlooking the rest of the city. This man must live a life of luxury with the money he makes off of killing people.

Toji walked behind you and grabbed your chin with his strong hand. He let out a low groan into your ear.

"Nice isn't it? Maybe if you blow my mind tonight, you could live like this everyday." He said, his voice sounding sultry. He slipped his thumb past your lips. He let out a satisfied huff feeling your warm tongue glide against his finger.

You sucked on his thumb and it drove him crazy already, he needed more and he needed it fast. He quickly lowered himself so that he could pick you up bridal style. You shakily gain balance in his arms before he throws you onto the big fancy bed.

You landed on your butt, your heels hanging off your foot from the fall. Toji stood in front of the foot of the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide off his broad shoulders. It was dark in the room, but you could see the moonlight illuminate the scars that decorated his upper body. You looked at his figure not only in awe, but worry seeing how his job took a toll on his skin.

His giant chest heaved as he took your trembling body in. You looked delicious, like he could devour you in a matter of seconds. He crawled onto the bed, between your legs. He took your heels and threw them across the large room.

"Kinda glad you walked in on me during the job." He said tracing his hands along your body. Every curve of yours was tantalizing and he wanted to savor every little moment he had you.

Your breath hitched as you let out small whines from his touch.

"Toji..." You muttered out his name and it was like music to his ears.

"Yes, don't worry baby." He said sweetly as he moved his hands down to the hem of your dress. He lifted up your dress and observed the sheer tights that stood in his way. He frowned slightly and pushed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

You gave out a pathetic mewl as he slowly pushed his finger against the fabric.

He became impatient and lifted your right leg over, twisting your torso so that your lower body was on one side. He slid his hand along your thigh to your ass where he gripped onto your tights. You could hear him tear at your tights with a 'RIP' sound. You whimpered feeling his strong grip tear a big hole into the crotch of your leggings.

"That's much better." He said satisfied. He moved your leg back over so that you were spread out for him.

Your face grew hot as he moved your panties out of his way. He brought his gloved hand to his mouth and took it off using his teeth. He grabbed the glove with the same hand and tossed it away. He rubbed his bare finger against your slit, gathering your wetness so that he could enter you easily.

His hands were huge, fingers thick and rough from the callouses. Just a single finger entering you made you squeak from how he stretched you out.

"Fuck, you're really tight." He said almost in disbelief. He moved his middle finger deeper, down until he was buried to his knuckle in your warmth. He smiled, feeling how you clenched around his singular finger.

"Oh sweetheart, you're going to break so easily." He said as he slowly moved his finger inside of you. He reveled in how you squeezed your thighs together, as if you were trying to cut off circulation to his hand. He responded to your desperate moans and arching back by adding another thick finger into your hole.

"Toji!" You squealed out gripping onto the soft sheets.

He chuckled seeing how easily you crumbled beneath him. He slipped his left arm under the small of your back and swiftly scooted your body up the bed, as if you weighed nothing. He carefully laid your head onto the pillow, your head was just below the headboard now. He shuffled so that he could lay on his stomach, his head comfortably between your legs.

You gasped feeling his warm tongue begin to lap up your juices. His tongue found your sensitive clit, skillfully flicking against it while thrusting his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy.

Your moans became louder as you squeezed your thighs around Toji's head. Any lesser man wouldn't be able to handle how tightly you crushed him between your thighs. But this was Toji, he could handle your intense grip, in fact he loved it.

He groaned into your pussy, closing his mouth to suck onto your sensitive bud. The fingernails on his left hand began to sink into your soft thighs as his other hand continued to plunge deep into your cunt. He picked up the pace, the sounds of your moans and the wet squelches of your needy pussy filled the room.

You soon found yourself spasming uncontrollably, your eyes darting to the back of your head as you felt your climax approach. Your hands gripped onto Toji's hair as you arched your back, moaning loudly as you came on his fingers and tongue.

"F-fuck! Hnnn...Toji..." Your cunt clenched around his fingers as you rode your high. Your fluids started to leak onto the bed sheet.

He withdrew his fingers and gave them a good cleaning with his mouth. His two fingers parted from his mouth with a trail of spit. He watched as you lay there, out of breath.

"What are you so tired for? I did all the work." He asked jokingly. He smirked and spread your legs nice and wide for himself again.

He undid the button on his pants and took them off. He then moved to take off your dress, not wanting to rip the pretty thing off like he did with your tights. He tossed both pieces of clothing to join the rest that were on the floor.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous." Toji admired your body. He took his right hand to cup your tit carefully, infatuated by how soft it was. His massive hands moved to play with both of your tits, massaging your chest roughly.

Your body trembled from the overwhelming sensations, you weren't sure how much more of this you could handle.

"Shit, I'm so hard right now it's not even funny." Toji said as he pulled at the waistband of his underwear.

You looked down to see how painfully constrained he was inside of his boxers. The imprint was massive and it caused your eyes to widen and your face became pale.

"Like what you see?" Toji let out a small laugh as he freed his erection from his boxers. His cock was heavy, even when it was hard it hung from the sheer weight of it.

You bit your lip, anticipating how something that thick could ever fit into your hole. Even though you were terrified, that warm feeling in your gut returned. You knew that regardless of how tight you were, he was going to make it fit.

"Alright, since you had one on you, I'll just use that." Toji said, grabbing the condom that you had in your purse. He used his teeth to tear open the wrapper and took the rubber out of the packaging. He went to put it on but laughed as he tried to unroll it.

"Baby, this is not big enough for me." He said holding up the half-rolled condom. He chucked it into the trashcan and sighed.

"Was worth a try, guess I'm going in raw." He said, pretending to be disappointed.

"W-Wait!" was all you could yell out before he lined himself up with your hole. His tip prodded at your entrance, trying desperately to push himself in. You gasped and clutched onto his shoulders as he slowly entered your little cunt.

"Goddamn, this is going to be a struggle huh?" He said, his voice strained as he tried to get just the tip in.

"Fuck." Toji cursed as he withdrew his cock. He spit onto your pussy and rubbed it in with his thumb, trying to get you nice and wet.

"You already came and I ate you out, how much prep does that tight little pussy need?" He complained as he stuck his tip back into your entrance.

You clenched your teeth as you felt him finally sink into your pussy. Whines escaping your mouth as he stretched you out, your hole being filled up like never before.

He grunted as his fat cock buried its way into your cunt, his hands holding the back of your knees as he pushed his entire weight against you.

Your vision became blurry from the tears that formed in your eyes. Your body was doing its best to adjust to his size, but it was just too much for you.

"s'too much Toji..." You slurred out as you could feel him bottoming out. You looked into his eyes with a fucked-out expression, mouth hanging open as drool slid down your chin.

"Too much? Already?" Toji asked mockingly. He pushed your leg against your chest, your tights tearing even more from this new angle.

"We've only just started." Toji smiled as he withdrew his cock only to slam it back into your cunt.

You squealed from his hips slamming into you and it caused him to chuckle. He only picked up the pace and continued to roughly thrust into you from your reactions.

"So. Fucking. Fragile." He grunted through gritted teeth while relentlessly pounding into your pussy. God, the way your cunt gripped onto his cock was euphoric. He swears he could cum right now if he wasn't taking his time.

He bucked his hips and folded you underneath him to get an even better position. With you bent in half beneath him, he could reach even deeper into your pussy, slamming that sweet spot that makes you scream.

Your screams were muffled however, since he hungrily pressed his lips against yours. His tongue explored your mouth, dominating your tongue in the process. His eyes were closed, enjoying the bliss of the moment. Your eyes were open, unfocused and rolling into the back of your head from the overstimulation.

Your stomach started to ache from the feeling of him stuffing you full to the hilt. But that giant knot in your core was still begging to be released. You could feel yourself getting closer to climax with every thrust. "Fucking slut... you're squeezing me so good." Toji groaned out of breath. Your bodies were becoming sticky from sweat. Toji hung his head down by the crook of your neck as he continued pounding your sore little pussy. You sunk your fingernails into his solid back, clawing at the flexed muscles.

He liked the feeling of you tearing up his back and decided it was only fitting to hurt you back. He bit down onto your neck with a growl as he bullied himself harder against your tender cervix. Your little cries of pain made him only bite harder. He sucked on the bitemark, leaving a nice little welt for you to remember him by.

"I wanna cum Toji... please..." you weakly asked as your legs shook from the intense pleasure mixed with pain.

"'Course baby, anything you wish for." He cooed as he grinded his pelvis against yours. His cock not only hit that sweet spot, but his pelvis stimulated your clit as well, driving you over the edge.

Your legs gave out, your jaw went slack and your nails dug into Toji's back so deep that it drew blood. "C-Cumming!" Was all you could mutter out as you climaxed, even harder than the first time. You felt ecstasy for the first time in forever, Toji delivering on his promise to fuck your brains out. Your mind was still foggy from the heavenly orgasm, even when Toji fucked you at an incredible speed, all you could feel was your muscles tensing.

"Holy shit, you're clamping onto me like crazy." Toji grunted out as he gripped onto the headboard, the bed creaking as he fucked you into the mattress. "Gonna cum so hard..." He mumbled under his breath. His thrusts became sloppier and less coordinated as he focused on finishing. He looked at your face and smiled seeing the cock-drunk expression on it.

Your whole body was spent, your hands no longer clawing at his back and your legs dangling above you. He could tell he wore you out well.

He thrusted into you a couple of times for good measure and then withdrew himself.

"F-Fuck, I'm cumming..." Toji groaned and pumped his cock with his hand before shooting his hot seed all over your tits. His load was thick and hot, some of it shooting far enough to coat your lips.

"Damn, turns out I also haven't had a good fuck in a while." He said out of breath, admiring how far you made his cumshot go.

You couldn't really respond with how tired you were. You just licked your lips, savoring his salty load. You maintained eye contact with him as he watched you seductively lick your lips.

"Haha, be careful now. I won't ever let you go if you look at me like that." Toji said parting your sweaty bangs out of your face.

Toji took some tissues from the bedside stand and cleaned you off, being careful not to make an even bigger mess. He threw the napkins into the trash and lazily fell next to you. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"I mean as long as you don't snitch, you're free to go." Toji said in a bored tone. His hands resting behind his head.

"Don't wanna go." You said in a whiny voice. You shifted onto your side, facing him. Your soft hands traced his arm lovingly. Any man who could fuck you like that wasn't leaving your life that easily.

Toji smirked and looked down at you, hand resting on your hip.

"Was hoping you'd say that." He said before kissing you on the forehead.

The sunlight started to come in through the window. You blocked the light with your hand, your eyes assaulted by the sudden shine. Toji groaned and clicked on the remote to close the automatic curtains. Darkness once again enveloped your bodies. You smiled and rested your head against Toji's chest.

Guess the night wasn't a bust after all, you ended up with a hot, rich boyfriend by the end of it. I mean, sure he kills people for a living but, only you needed to know that.

[nawoken]

   Yes, because I got bullied by both of the games I played so... I'm here to rambling some stuff that has been stuck inside my head since forever.

How about... Reader with cute aggression, especially for those small, fluffy creatures, like... cats! (Ơ w Ơ).

You can't help squeezing, kissing, and biting (lightly) those cuties. Yes, you have Grim, but he won't let you pet him since you're too much, his words.

And TWST boys that by some accident, maybe from alchemy class or their clumsiness. They, unfortunately, have turned into those mischievous creatures.

   You don't know that. You just walking around, minding your own business or headmage supposed to be business. Then, you saw it, a cat with the fluffiest fur and cutest eyes you've ever seen run by. And you know, you've fallen in love :)))

   TWST boys, now in cat body don't know that they're in danger, roaming around freely with the hope that someone they know will realize and help them.

   Oh, is that our calm and kind prefect? Surely, they can help our poor boy, right? No! They're deadly WRONG!!!

   The next thing our boy knows after approaching prefect is that he's trapped in your embrace, being kissed, squeezed, and petted while you compliment him on how smooth and healthy his fur looks.

   Damn it, prefect! He is not an actual cat, can’t you see it?! The answer is… No, you can’t. You’re busy admiring his cuteness.

   He is struggling, embarrassed by your doing. Some of them might feel ashamed since it feels like he is taking advantage of you… or the other way around, some just aren’t used to being pampered. But, the worst thing is… prefect, please don’t rub your face on his stomach! Mmraooo!!! :’)))))

   After a while, you finally stop, he sighs out of relief, … but why do you look at him like that? D..do you finally realize that he is not a cat?

   You stared at the poor creature in your hand, thinking. And, this made him concerned, what are you planning to do?

   Before he can do anything, you chomp on his face, more specifically, his muzzle … Yes, you do it without your teeth. But... YOU BITE HIM!!! ON HIS FACE!!! C...CAN THIS COUNT AS A KISS?!

He is panicked and stunned while you're in heaven. This might be the sweetest cat you've ever seen, he doesn't even bite or scratch you when you do all this to him.

Suddenly, pink smoke emitted from the cat, and with a "pop" sound, it turned into a human. Not to mention, you know him. Is it a good or bad thing? You don't know, the only thing you know is... you're DOOM!

You should know that this is a magical world, so you can't just hug any stray cat on the street, it can be anyone, not to say this is your crush. But you got tricked! By those sparkling eyes! And those fluffy ears! And now you can die from embarrassment.

Now, you're the one who panics while he just stands there, not knowing what to do or to say. The cure for this potion, it's a true love kiss. (Another version of the "The Princess and the Frog" potion but instead of a kiss from the princess, it's a true love kiss, why not? :))))

You two end up looking at each other for a whole minute before he decides to speak up but are cut off by you. "Please, just forget everything, this is so messed up of me, I promise I will try to make it up to you somehow, but please just erase that shameful thing I have done from your mind!" (QAQ)

Then you ran off, left him there with bewildered expression.

~~~~♡♡♡~~~

That's longer than I expected :'D

But, yeah, this has been stuck inside my head for too long, finally it can appear under the sunlight...

You know, I want to make a request for that idea. I've followed so many good TWST writers. But, well I'm shy and don't really sure how to, so I just keep it in.

The idea for this post is... I have a cat, she's been suffering from my cute aggression. Ehe, poor her, but she never bites me when I'm chomping on her muzzle. So sweet of her.

But yeah, I can't stop laughing when I think about TWST boy turning into a cat and being chomped on. That must be terrifying for him, but they still tried their best to not scratch you, their dear prefect. Except: Riddle, it's just his reflection, and he feels regret right after. And maybe Leona? Or, he just shows his claw to threaten you but doesn't actually do it.

Nom nom :3

MY ANGEL!!!

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Bloody Painter/Helen Otis

This bad boy is LONNGG, I included a lot of his backstory in this. Writers block is beating my ass. 💔

- Twenty one!

- 6’1. When I say this dudes lanky, I mean LANKY. Slim and naturally toned, his main exercise comes from chasing or climbing stairs.

- Both of his parents are Korean, but he was raised in Pennsylvania.

- His parents struggled with getting pregnant, most ending is miscarriages. His mom was completely batshit, so when the pregnancy stuck she swore she had some divine intuition that made her believed he’d be a girl. She didn’t even bother having an ultrasound, so when he was born and she saw that he was a boy she thought him being a girl was some sort of prophecy she needed to fulfill.

- His whole life she had always told him he was meant to be a girl and he would be going against ‘God’s will’ if he didn’t follow through. He was always dressed in feminine clothing and had an extremely girly room. His mother didn’t put him in school until he was about thirteen, since she thought the kids would taint his mind and make him think he’s a boy.

- When he was put in school he got bullied RELENTLESSLY. His name, the way he dressed, everything. After meeting Tom he slowly started to realize that all the shit he grew up with wasn’t normal and his mom was psycho, so he started borrowing his clothes and changing in the school bathrooms so he could feel less weird. Once Tom admitted to planting Judy’s watch in Helen’s bag, they argued on the roof while getting slightly physical. Tom had slipped off the edge, but Helen managed to grab him. Of course, a middle schooler isn’t necessarily strong enough to hold another off a building without going down with them, so Tom let go to save Helen. Rumors spread that Helen had pushed him, but no one cared enough to investigate.

- After that school year was over he started to dress more androgynous/ masculine and ignored his mom’s pressure, which lead to her abusing him both physically and mentally. Eventually, with his ignored mental issues and the abuse he completely snapped, killing his mom and several of his bullies right before a Halloween party. He was sent to a psychiatric hospital that Slender ended up taking him from.

- VERY polite and proper. He’s pretty soft spoken and his grammar is like never flawed, big word user. 1000% the type of guy to kiss your hand as a greeting. The most he’ll do if he doesn’t like you is give you the silent treatment or a dirty look.

- Weird little detail, but his fingers and SLIM and LONG. His nails are neatly kept. He likes to pamper himself.

- He does botany in his free time! Any flower arrangements in the mansion and the gardens outside are his doing. There’s a few residents that he brings bouquets to every other week so they can have something nice. EJ, Sally, and Jane are his usual market. Also does flower pressing.

- Used to do ballet when he was about 4-7.

- Definitely the safest driver, but that makes him a pain as a get away driver. Always goes the exact speed limit and follows every possible law.

- Mainly listens to classical music. However, he does like Billy Joel, Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, even a little bit of Queen.

- His room is SO nice and very big. Long sheer curtains, velvet & silk bedding, a grand piano, flowers, tall bookshelves, chairs, a large bed with a canopy, big windows, and lots of sculptures and framed paintings done by him. He’s really into elegant things and floral patterns. Has a mural on his ceiling!

- Hangs out with EJ, Liu, Puppeteer, and Jane. Rarely does he talk to any of the proxies or any creeps he’s not close with. Awfully reserved.

- Loves the fine arts. Painting, writing, music, sculpting, all that jazz. Occasionally does poetry! Him and Liu both like to write, so sometimes they’ll get together and talk about it. He mostly reads old classic books & poetry.

- Jane has taught him how to sew, although he doesn’t find much use for it.

- He has a white persian cat named Juliette in his room no one knows about other than his close friends. She never leaves the room, but she’s content; it has enough room to have lots of things just for her. He has a MASSIVE painting of her renaissance style by her bed. (He got her one of those fancy cat beds that look like a tiny rich person couch.) Pampers her to death.

- I know in his canon design he has that denim kinda jacket on with the pin, but in my HC he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that. Usually wears jeans and baggy button ups while he’s painting, but his day to day outfits are well put together. Rich person style in clothes — turtle necks, slacks, dress shoes, almost kind of dark academia.

- Super high standards in general, but especially when it comes to food. Fine dining for sure. Usually buys only enough ingredients for a serving just for him so he doesn’t have to leave them in the fridge. He doesn’t trust the other residents at ALL.

- This guy is ROLLING in it. He has so much loose cash from victims he can do whatever the hell he wants, big reason why his cat is living like royalty.

- Drinks at least one glass of wine a day. He has an entire rack in his room of old, fine wines. A lot of them are from Europe.

- For whatever reason, he’s an amazing masseuse.

- All of his candles and soaps are very high quality and expensive. He won’t settle for anything less.

- Can play the piano and the violin! He would kill to have a harpsichord, he might.

- He’s not big on history, but he could talk for hours about the titanic. He’s done paintings of it and has watched every possible documentary on it. Thinks the movie is a work of art.

I hope you all liked this! I love this fine man.

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

[flurry-of-stars]

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈-𝓥𝕴

⋆｡°✩𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓵𝔂⋆｡°✩

𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 - 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙𝓥

⋆｡°✩𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕴𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖝 ⋆｡°✩

Fluff.

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 7.1k 𝓣𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 *сонечко- Little Sun

“You truly are a remarkable assistant. Simply amazing.”

Nikolai’s voice is smooth as velvet, with the charm of a warm fireplace in Winter. He had a voice that could draw people in like a siren's song. From the kitchen, Fyodor could practically visualise the familiar gestures he was making while speaking.

The grand gestures, the elegant swoops of his hands...

Knowing him, he’s likely touching your shoulders and arms here and there too…Fyodor stirs the porridge a little faster as it bubbles and boils.

Yet beneath his charming voice, something about his rambunctious friend's tone causes Fyodor’s jaw to tighten. He shifts uncomfortably as he listens from the kitchen, wooden spoon scraping gently against the sides of the saucepan.

Nearby, Tolstoy lays across the kitchen table, head tilted and ears directed down the hallway. He's gazing down the hall, the tip of his tail twitching faintly, his eyes half closed.

A small huff of amusement escapes Fyodor; it’s as though even the cat knows what's going on too. That small flicker of humour dissipates faster than a flame being doused with a bucket of water as Nikolai’s voice reaches his ears. 

“Back when I was an author, I saw seasoned professionals crumble under less pressure than this. But you—” Nikolai’s voice escalates, changing from charming to flirtation. “—handle it with grace.”

“And with that wrist of yours on top of it—” Fyodor can almost picture Nikolai reaching out to touch your hand, gently caressing the soft beige bandage. He imagines him kissing your hand, his large hand enveloping your smaller one. Suddenly, it feels hard for Fyodor to breathe. “—You are an inspiration to us all. We could all learn to be harder workers from you. You, my dear, are one of a kind.”

He hears the flustered stammer in your voice, the tap of your ankle boots echoing like distant thunder against the floorboards; it’s a rhythm of retreat, each step a hesitant heartbeat, pulling you away from him as if the very air between you has thickened.

Nikolai definitely kissed your hand. “Ah…I’m just doing my job as Mr. Dostoyevsky's assistant,” you insist, tone trembling. Fyodor is quick to assume you’re not used to interactions like this. “I take my job seriously since I want his book to succeed, is all....”

A brief flare of pride ignites in Fyodor’s chest, only to be swiftly extinguished once more by Nikolai’s next words: “There’s no need to be so modest! You, my darling, are a true gem in the literary world. And so early into your career! Perhaps I should start calling you the muse of Mr. Dostoyevsky himself~ After all, every great writer needs one, don’t you think?”

“Except,” he continues, his tone shifting. Fyodor frowns, straining to catch his old friend’s flirtatious murmur as it softens to a near seductive purr that causes his lip to curl into a deep, displeased frown, “Maybe you’d prefer to be my muse instead~? Perhaps you’re just what I need to be…inspired to write again~”

Suddenly, the walls feel like they’re closing in on him. He swallows roughly, his throat parched and his chest tightening as he grips his wooden spoon tightly. Before he even realises it, Fyodor's opened his mouth and called out for you, his tone firm, “Огонёк. I require your assistance in the kitchen. Now.”

He barely hears your murmured apology, but the swift pace of your footsteps echoes in the silence. His gaze drags across the countertops to take in your appearance—your rosy cheeks, the way you struggle to hold his gaze while your hands fidget nervously with the fabric of your skirt.

His stomach churns uncomfortably, as if caught on the rough waves at sea.

“Bowls,” Fyodor replies, forcing himself to look away from you. The longer he stares, the more queasy he feels. “Please.” He adds, the wooden spoon circling the pot, his hand never pausing in stirring the thick, bubbling porridge. Swiftly, he removes it from the heat, shutting the stovetop off.

“Y-yes, of course..!” you stammer. Your flustered response makes his throat constrict. He feels a faint breeze as you rush behind him, grabbing a trio of porcelain bowls from the cupboard. He clears his throat and turns his dark eyes in your direction.

“Just two, Огонёк,” he remarks, watching as you look up at him in surprise. “I was not expecting Nikolai’s presence this evening, so there isn’t enough for three.” He notes the slight relaxation in your face, before he watches your lips tug downwards.

“But what’s he going to eat? We should at least serve him something.” Your insistence makes his shoulders tense. Even his own upbringing taught him not to let a visitor go hungry. His hand hesitates in its stirring as you place the bowls on the countertop.

He could think of a few of the meals you'd both prepared for the week that Nikolai may enjoy that you wouldn't. He had begun to learn your tastes this week especially, so he has a pretty good idea of what could be served to Nikolai.

As he begins portioning the food, Nikolai’s mischievous voice wafts in from the hallway.

“Your assistant and I could share a bowl,” he suggests deviously. Though deep down he knows his old friend is teasing, Fyodor feels his chest clenching tightly again, his gaze never wavering from the porridge he’s serving. The gentle tap of Nikolai’s footsteps approaching makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, his chest seeming to tighten further. 

Nikolai adds, his voice growing more flirtatious once more, “Maybe you can even feed me a few spoonfuls, Огонёк~” The moment he tries to walk past him to get closer to you again, Fyodor holds out his wooden spoon like a barrier, making sure not to splatter porridge across the kitchen.

“Only I can call her that,” Fyodor states, his dark eyes finally lifting to meet the playfully charming gaze of his best friend. Nikolai holds his hands up in mock surrender, his charming smile turning into a devilish smirk. He steps back, his voice sounding as cheerful as ever. 

“Oh, my apologies! I didn’t know, Fedya!” Nikolai replies, his voice as devious as ever. As Fyodor turns his attention away from his old friend to watch you organise the table, Nikolai steps passed him, adding, “Do you need some help setting the table, сонечко~?” 

For a brief moment, something ignites in Fyodor’s chest. He’s tempted to smack Nikolai in the back of the head with his wooden spoon. Just a little bop, nothing too bad--

Goodness… over their three decades of friendship, Nikolai has gotten under his skin countless times, but he’s never felt the urge to strike him like this…

The earlier argument he had with you must be why he’s still so agitated.

Shaking his head briskly, he dispels the odd thought and focuses on filling the now-empty saucepan with water, tossing the wooden spoon in alongside it. As you set the table, he hears you reply, “Oh no, I can handle it. Thank you though, Mr. Gogol—”

“Just Nikolai is fine, dollface.” Fyodor turns his gaze as Nikolai continues, “Although, I’d much prefer if you called me Kolya~” As his gaze lingers on you, Fyodor notices the small smile blooming on your face as you pick up Tolstoy, your hand idly caressing his fluffy head.

“I’m sorry, but you’re my senior in the writing world,” you respond kindly as you continue scratching behind the cat’s ear. The corners of Fyodor’s lips tug upwards into a smirk as he scatters defrosted berries across your bowl of porridge. “It would be disrespectful to call you by your first name.”

“Come on, сонечко. I insist! After all you’re friends with Fedya, right? Any friend of his is a friend of mine, so there’s no need for all this last name business!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Gogol, but I just can’t–” 

Before Nikolai can whine again, Fyodor interrupts, “You are not making a good first impression on my assistant, Kolya.” He smirks at his friend as he places your bowl of porridge down first, adding a drizzle of honey on top. “Do not force her to call you by your first name. And besides—”

He sets his own bowl down, crossing his arms. “You still have not told me what you are doing here. The convention isn’t for another five days. Vivian told me that you and the others would be arriving as a group the evening before the convention.”

Nikolai’s flirty smile shifts into a mischievously devilish grin. Like a cat that's about to do something devious. He rocks on his feet, speaking in a carefree, warm tone, “Can’t I just show up early to surprise my bestie?” His voice takes on a mockingly hurt tone. “And here I thought you’d missed me this past year…woe is me, unloved by my best friend. I might just shed a tear…”

Fyodor scoffs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “There’s always a reason for your actions.” As he takes his seat across from you, he eyes Nikolai suspiciously as he settles into the chair closest to you.

He watches as Tolstoy leaps out of your arms, the feline disappearing into Fyodor’s bedroom. Feeling his jaw tighten, he picks up his spoon and digs it into his porridge, idly stirring it. “So?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Nikolai holds up his hands in feigned defeat. “Alright, alright, you caught me! I was supposed to arrive here in four days.” He leans back, hands behind his head. “But a..shall we say, opportunity presented itself that allowed me to be here early.”

Mid-scoop, Fyodor pauses, narrowing his dark eyes at Nikolai’s carefree expression. Silence stretches before he lets out a heavy sigh. “You stole Ivan’s ticket again, didn’t you?”

Nikolai’s lips curl into a barely concealed smirk, the kind only Fyodor would recognize. “Ivan’s ticket, my ticket—really, who’s to say whose it was? What matters is…first class is cushy, especially when you’re not the one paying for it!”

Fyodor can’t help the amused smirk that rises on his face. “I always knew those hacking techniques our old technology teacher showed us would come in handy in one way or another.” He grabs the honey, giving himself a smaller drizzle as he mumbles, “Imagine what else he could've taught us if we kept praising him--”

“You two have really been friends for that long?” Your voice snaps Fyodor out of his small moment of banter with his old friend. Placing the honey back down on the table, he casts his gaze toward you, noticing the curiosity lighting up your face. 

“Oh yes, yes!” Nikolai speaks up before Fyodor can even think about replying. He casts his gaze towards him, noticing just how eager he is to talk about their past. “We’ve known each other since…” He looks at Fyodor, pursing his lips together. Holding his hands up, he mumbles, fingers twitching as he counts the years.

A low chuckle escapes Fyodor. “Since we were very small.” His voice softens as he turns his eyes on you. The way your eyes twinkle with curiosity is captivating, and he can’t bring himself to look away. “Kolya was visiting the area on vacation right before Winter one year—”

“—When I swear I saw this huge bird! It was one I'd never seen before! ” Nikolai interjects, his excitement as palpable as the day their paths first crossed. Fyodor’s shoulders slump slightly as your sparkling eyes turn in Nikolai’s direction. “So, like anyone else would, I ran after it! And I’m glad I did. This place always becomes so beautiful in Autumn…”

Nikolai turns his multicolored gaze toward Fyodor, grinning widely. His eyes are vibrant and alive, burning with the memory of that fateful day. Fyodor can practically see it playing over in the colourful hues of his eyes. “I lost sight of the bird but Fyodor here just so happened to be outside!"

"Well, I say he was outside," Nikolai adds, gently nudging Fyodor with his elbow as he smirks at him, "But really, he was huddled by the front door of this place reading a book!" He raises an eyebrow at Fyodor, as if saying 'what was up with that?'

"I was told to spend time outside," Fyodor nonchalantly replies, shrugging. "I was not told I couldn't take my book with me." Nikolai scoffs, rolling his eyes in response. You, on the other hand, giggle in amusement. Fyodor's dark eyes turn towards yours, gazing into your soft eyes, twinkling with mirth.

"That sounds exactly like something you'd do," you jest back, grinning at him. "You'd be the type to read at an amusement park instead of enjoying the rides."

Nikolai cackles softly, giving Fyodor another playful nudge, "I see she already has you all figured out, huh Fedya~?" He teases, earning a scoff from Fyodor. His eyes linger on you for a few moments as Nikolai continues his story. "If his mother didn't come outside and ask him to help her with the gardening, he probably would've sat there all day!"

Suddenly, Fyodor's heart clenches at Nikolai’s words, and he finds himself staring into his porridge as if it holds the answers to his unspoken questions. The meal suddenly seems less appealing, his stomach feeling constricted. He tries to swallow but his throat is abnormally dry.

“It was hilarious, honestly!” Nikolai continues, his laughter ringing through the air. “She dropped his ushanka on his head-- It was so big on him! It kept flopping down onto his face! Not to mention, his Winter coat was so big, he had to keep stopping to roll the sleeves up! At first I was shocked, because I didn't think he had hands!”

He laughs heartily. Fyodor hears your soft giggles mingling with it. His spoon glides through the porridge, a stone settling uncomfortably in his stomach. “—But it was honestly adorable how much he was helping her, with his little hand trowel and tiny watering can. All the while, he looked like a little puppy with floppy ears!”

Nikolai's voice is filled with the warmth of a sunny day. Each soft chuckle and tease made that ball of cold ice in Fyodor's stomach grow havier, weighing him down. “Why, if you ask me, I’m almost certain he—”

Suddenly, Fyodor clears his throat, interrupting Nikolai. He takes a deep breath, briefly locking eyes with him before his gaze drops back to his bowl of untouched porridge. He stirs it once, twice, before finally looking back up at Nikolai.

All traces of mischief have vanished from Nikolai’s face; even his smile feels empty. Despite this, the understanding and sympathy in his expression are unmistakable. In a heartbeat, he hums, turning his gaze back toward you. “Aaah…I can’t seem to recall…! It was quite a long time ago, so you’ll have to forgive my fuzzy memory.”

A sense of comfort washes over Fyodor. Even if he was intent on teasing him to death, Nikolai still understood and respected his boundaries without question. Fyodor couldn't help but appreciate that. As your warm tone of understanding reaches his ears, he relaxes further, “That’s okay; I have trouble remembering a lot of my early years too.”

The sound of your spoon tapping against the inside of your bowl as you scoop up more porridge isn’t lost on him. “So then, Mr. Gogol, if you gave up being a writer, what are you doing now?”

“Oh? Interested in my career, are you? What, want to make sure your future husband is earning enough~?” Fyodor feels his body starting to relax as the topic of conversation shifts. He hears you splutter a bit, coughing and dropping your spoon, clearly to Nikolai's delight, judging from his amused cackle. Fyodor keeps his gaze down at his porridge, stirring the thick, pale substance around as Nikolai continues, “Well, I gave up writing…god, quite a while ago at this point!”

Fyodor listens to Nikolai’s story, his stomach slowly feeling lighter as he reaches for a glass of water. His gaze briefly rests on Nikolai’s cheerful expression. He nods a few times in confirmation as he sips from his glass. Just like that, Nikolai’s gestures become more animated as he leans toward you.

“I stopped writing after Fedya’s published his first novel, under his pseudonym of course. I'd already been writing for a few years before this one started publishing.” He rests his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his knuckles.

He nods, enthusiasm sparkling in his eyes, “I'm very proud of the novels I've published and I'm glad so many readers enjoy them too.” Fyodor can practically see his best friend’s ego swelling. “Since then, I’ve just been in and out of jobs, travelling the world and–”

“Basically… Kolya struggles to hold down a job,” Fyodor teases, his eyes flickering toward you. He notices your amused smile beneath your curious eyes and adds, “He’s always been a bit of a wanderer. A free spirit, if you will. Don’t follow in his footsteps, Огонёк, or else this porridge may become a staple in your diet.”

Your gentle giggles fill his ears, causing his lips to tug a little higher. His eyes soften as he watches you, even as Nikolai starts to scoff. The sound of your laughter and the sight of your smile are almost soothing to him.

It doesn’t seem like you’re still upset about earlier—

Nikolai’s loud voice shakes him from his thoughts. “I’ll have you know, сонечко—” That nickname again. Fyodor's hand clenches tighter around his spoon. “—that just because I enjoy drifting between jobs and places, that I have, in fact, had many jobs and have quite a decent nest egg, if I say so myself!"

"I didn't work for a while after I published my last book. All of my freetime went into planning my future trips around the globe! But when I finally did get another job, I--"

Before Nikolai can continue, his phone buzzes and chimes. He glances at the screen, scoffing as an amused smirk tugs at his features. “Ah, I’ve been caught already, it seems. I’ll be back in two shakes of a bird’s tail! Don’t miss me too much~!”

He looks towards you, kissing his fingers and blowing you a kiss. Fyodor doesn’t miss the way your cheeks light up at the gesture, his eyes trailing after Nikolai as he leaves as he notices your turning to stare into your bowl.

Before Fyodor can correct the expression he used, Nikolai gets up from his spot beside you, heading for the front door. He lets out a silent sigh of relief as he hears him answer the call, the door gently shutting behind him.

Then, he turns his attention back to you. “I apologize for his sudden appearance. I would have warned you if I’d known Kolya was going to show up on my doorstep today. He can be a bit… much.”

“Oh, no, it’s completely fine. Mr. Gogol just seems very… eccentric. I don't mind his company." Your voice is quieter now, more relaxed. Fyodor’s gaze drops to your bowl, noticing you’ve been eating the whole time. There’s about half of the porridge left in your bowl, while his remains full. “But you still haven’t had a single bite of food.”

Blinking a few times, Fyodor looks up at you, mildly surprised that you’ve noticed his untouched bowl. “Ah… I suppose I just got caught up in our conversation.”

He watches as a frown tugs at your lips faster than you realise. You sigh, shaking your head lightly, your tone slightly exasperated. “I thought we fixed your eating habits.”

Before Fyodor can respond, you stand up, sliding your bowl across to the spot next to his before taking a seat beside him. He’s taken off guard, his mind short-circuiting for just a moment as you gaze up at him, that familiar warm smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Taking care of yourself is important, you know.” He can hear the care and worry in your gentle tone. His dark eyes turn down to watch as you grab his spoon with your non-dominant hand, scooping up some of his porridge along with a berry or two. “If you don’t eat, how are you going to keep coming up with those fantastic ideas of yours?”

“And what of you?” he replies, his gaze rising to meet yours with a hint of sternness. He gently caresses the back of his hand and wrist, reminding himself to soften his tone. “Your wrist won’t get any better if you keep forcing yourself either.”

A huff escapes you, a mix of frustration and understanding. “Okay, fair enough…” There’s a pause, the air thick with unspoken words with a dash of anxiety. When you speak again, your voice has grown softer, barely above a whisper. He notices how you look down at his bowl of porridge, as if it holds the secrets of the universe within its creamy texture.

“I’m…sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” His brows raise slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt. He leans closer, silently urging you to continue.

“It’s just… I feel like I’m the one responsible for making sure your international debut goes well. If the work isn’t done in time or my translations are poorly done… I feel… I just…” You take a sharp breath in, fingers twisting the fabric of your skirt for comfort.

Your gaze shakily lifts, meeting his, revealing the intense sea of disquiet swirling in your usually bright, burning eyes.

He watches the way your lip quivers, the furrow of your brows deepening as you seem to search for stability in him. “I feel like I’ll be the one responsible for ruining your career. And I can’t… I just can’t do that to you…”

The weight of your words hangs in the air, heavy with apprehension. Fyodor can only imagine that this same burden has been weighing on your mind and heart all this time.

His chest clenches as he starts to realise the weight you’ve been silently carrying, that burden that’s been pushing you to work harder and harder, despite the agony it’s bringing you.

Despite the risks that come with it. 

He wants to reassure you, to tell you that you’re not alone in this, that the success of his book relies on so many other factors outside of you. But the intensity of the moment leaves him momentarily speechless.

Taking a deep breath, he finally speaks, his voice soft, “Огонёк, you could never ruin my career. Your translations are…phenomenal. This is your first job, yet you have the talent of someone ten years your senior.”

He notices the way your eyes widen as if his words have struck a secret chord within your heart. Slowly, he lifts his hand, his slender fingers gently brushing against your bandaged wrist resting tenderly on your thigh. A silent gasp escapes your lips at his touch. With deliberate care, he caresses your wrist, his gaze firm yet warm.

“You are the best assistant I could ask for. That’s precisely why I need you to look after yourself.”

“I only scolded you earlier because I’m concerned about what could happen if you keep pushing yourself this way.” His tone softens, fingers pausing their gentle caress as he almost whispers, “I care about you, Огонёк. I don’t want to lose my assistant. So please, let’s find a middle ground so you can continue your work without risking your wrist.”

Without skipping a beat, a soft, shaky “O-okay,” escapes you. Fyodor smiles gratefully, his hand sliding off your wrist as he sits up straight. He's fast to notice the brief pause of silence that flows between the both of you. He lets it continue for a few seconds before he decides to speak up.

But before he can break the silence, he blinks in surprise as you lift the spoonful of porridge toward his lips, a playful- though still somewhat shaky- grin on your face.

“But if I’m going to start taking my wrist more seriously, you need to promise me you’ll keep eating well and looking after yourself too, okay?”

A small chuckle of amusement escapes Fyodor. He pauses for a moment, as if considering it. Then, with a shrug, he murmurs, “I suppose it’s a fair deal…”

Leaning forward, he accepts the mouthful of porridge, letting you feed him. He sees the way your eyes light up with relief, despite the anxiety still present in them. The way your smile doesn’t light up your face like normal, how your brows are furrowed….

As he swallows the porridge, he reaches out once more, his hand easily finding yours without him so much as glancing down. Instead of touching your wrist, he tenderly grasps your hand. He notices the way your eyes widen as he leans forward, his tone a serious whisper, “I’m serious, Огонёк. I want you to lean on me, okay? I do not want to see you pushing yourself again.”

His eyes peer into the shimmering surface of your eyes, watching as you fully absorb his words. Your silence is telling enough. It’s a silent sign to him that this will be more difficult than he initially thought. “Promise me, Огонёк. Promise me you won’t do this again.” His fingers gently intertwine with yours, his touch careful as he squeezes your hand.

A silent plea to agree to his terms.

“Mr. Dostoyevsky…” He notes how breathless you sound as you whisper his name. He remains unwavering, his hand gripping yours, refusing to let go until you agree to his terms. There’s a flutter in his chest as he remains silent, waiting with bated breath for your confirmation. Just a simple okay will be enough…

“Ooh la laaa~” Fyodor jolts, his shoulders going rigid as Nikolai’s mischievous voice fills the kitchen once more. His hand quickly releases yours, but it’s too late.

As Fyodor turns to meet Nikolai’s teasing, devious grin, he knows Nikolai has already drawn his own conclusions. “Have I interrupted something~? Oh dear! Fedya, you should’ve told me your assistant is—” He shifts his gaze back to you, his Cheshire-like grin widening, “—more than just your assistant.”

You take the bait before Fyodor can even think to stop you. “It isn’t anything like that!” You sound so flustered that it almost catches him off guard. You’ve never sounded like this around him before—it’s strange to hear your usually resolute and passionate voice tremble like this. But it’s almost… cute. “We were just talking–!”

A mischievous hum lingers on Nikolai’s lips as he approaches the table, a taunting sway in his steps. You've snatched the bait, hook, line and sinker.

“Talking while holding hands, hmm~? Forgive me for saying so, but that seems a bit more—” He moves closer, almost standing behind Fyodor now, “—amorous than a boss should be with his assistant~”

“She’s wounded, Kolya.” Fyodor interjects, stepping in before you can reply. “I was checking the condition of her wrist. You haven’t strayed so far from writing that you’ve forgotten just how valuable our hands and wrists are, have you?”

Nikolai holds up his hands, that sly grin transforming into an innocent smile that could fool anyone else. “Hey, don’t let me stop you from being a caring boss. I just think that normally, when you’re checking someone’s injury—” His smirk reappears just as quickly as it had vanished. “—you normally… well… check the injury. Not stare into the patient’s eyes.”

Fyodor interrupts calmly, “I was watching her expressions for any signs of discomfort or pain. Огонёк and I may be on friendly terms, but I wouldn’t put it past her to hide her pain from me if she thinks for even a second that I’m going to stop her from translating those chapters.”

“Oh, so she’s resilient? That's interesting...” Nikolai clicks his tongue, his eyes gleaming deviously. Fyodor sighs, mentally preparing himself for whatever flirtatious comment Nikolai might make next—aimed at you, of course—when your voice cuts through the banter.

“So… you’d say we’re friends then…?”

The question catches Fyodor off guard. It’s not just the question itself, but the soft, almost meek tone you’re using, as if you’re afraid he might deny it. His dark eyes shift to meet yours. You look up at him, uncertainty etched on your face, a glimmer of anticipation shining in your eyes.

Friends… 

Fyodor hadn’t considered the nature of your relationship before you said that.

At first, he had to admit he hadn’t enjoyed your company that much. You were a brilliant translator, an asset to him as an author and in achieving his current goals. But having someone else’s presence lingering in this cottage with him after the past year he'd spent here alone had felt unpleasant at first.

You didn’t know how sacred this place was to him. You didn’t know how long he had spent in these walls, absorbing their atmosphere and essence, burning the memory of thi splace into his memory. Wanting every small detail etched deep into his soul so that when he ultimately met his end, he would remember it in the afterlife.

But that wasn’t your fault.

You had come here to perform a job, plain and simple. You hadn’t come to trample all over the sacredness of this place. You probably didn’t even realise how deeply this building and its location means to Fyodor. When he finally came to accept that and let you in, he couldn’t deny that he began to enjoy your presence.

You'd even gone out of your way to spend your paycheck on food these past few weeks, just to make sure he was eating well. You even helped him get some much needed rest that fired his creativity and drive to write into overdrive.

In fact, a part of him desired your presence now. You brought warmth back into his life that he had lost a year ago when his spark had been swept away. Stolen from him in the blink of an eye, leaving him cold and alone with only his thoughts to keep him company. 

It wasn’t the same burning intensity he had known, but a gentle flame, a determined, passionate one, unique and all your own, that you’d brought with you was warmer than any candle currently lit around the cottage. He was drawn to your captivating flame, your burning passion and drive, like a helpless moth. 

He couldn’t deny it, even if a small part of him didn’t want to admit it: Fyodor enjoyed your company.

“Yes.” He pauses, considering his words carefully. His dark eyes never leave the hopeful shimmer in yours, the words leaving his lips causing that flutter in his chest to grow as he continues, “That is to say....I would consider us to be more than acquaintances…”

He watches your eyes light up, that shimmer becoming a full sparkle. Her doesn’t even realize you’re leaning slightly closer to him, that hopeful undertone to your voice growing more intense, “And more than acquaintances is…?”

He huffs at you, pulling back. He looks away, returning to swirling his porridge, “Forget I said anything.” Despite his dismissive tone, he stifles a chuckle as you whine beside him, pleading for him to say the words you want to hear.

“Aww, come on! It doesn’t count if you don’t say it!” He can easily hear the joyful mirth in your voice, the slight rise in pitch as you plead with him.

He may not have openly called you friends, but his words have nonetheless brought you happiness. Alot of it by the sounds. He can tell that much, at least. That’s rather sweet; he didn’t expect his words to make you this happy.

Something about it warms his chest, that fluttering feeling growing more intense. Before he realizes it, a faint smile is sneaking onto his face.

︵‿︵‿୨✩୧‿︵‿︵

“Dad, I’m home!”

Your keys jingle in your hand as you push open the apartment door, greeted by the musty smell of mildew and the irritating flicker of the lightbulb in the dining room when you switch it on. It buzzes and flashes a few times before settling into a soft glow, illuminating your dingy little apartment.

You know it might seem odd to others, but it’s hard to break this habit. Whenever something makes you particularly excited or happy, you find yourself coming home, calling out for your deceased father just as you did in your youth.

The last time you'd done this was the day you'd graduated from university. Even though he’s gone, you can’t help but share the good news with him as if he were still here.

“Sorry I’m late,” you continue, turning to securely lock the door behind you. You giggle happily, hanging your still damp amber coat on a clothes hanger by the window, the chill of the evening still clinging to your skin. You crack the window open slightly, hoping your coat will be dry by morning.

The silence of the rundown apartment wraps around you; the only sounds you can hear is faint honking in town. It’s a familiar silence. A lonely silence. “One of Mr. Dostoyevsky’s friend’s showed up early. Something about hacking and stealing tickets?”

You giggle, the sound echoing in the quiet space. “I don’t know. I didn’t really get it, but that friend of his was quite the charmer.” Your smile softens as you think of the encounter, a flicker of warmth igniting a memory.

“Oh, and get this!” You almost squeal as you walk toward the kitchen. Pausing, you turn to gaze at the dining room, imagining your father sitting at the table, listening to you gush about your day, that big goofy grin of his on his face. “Mr. Dostoyevsky said we’re friends!”

You know you have the goofiest smile on your face as you open the old refrigerator. It hums loudly as you reach in, grabbing a chilled water bottle before heading back into the dining area.

Your tone hushes slightly after you take a few mouthfuls of the cold liquid—the last thing you need is for your neighbors to think you’ve finally lost your marbles. “Well... he didn’t say the word ‘friends,’ but that’s basically what he meant!”

Giggling happily, you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Maybe it was silly to be so happy about something like this, but the thought of actually being friends with Fyodor filled you with the warmth of a cozy fireplace in winter.

During your time working for him, you’d come to admire both him and his work. The idea that someone as talented as him saw you as a friend made you want to jump around and squeal.

“I wish I could introduce you to him and Mr. Gogol,” you mumble, a wistful tone in your voice as you approach the dull gray buffet table. “They’re really interesting people, Dad. I bet you would’ve loved to share your stories with them too…”

It stands sturdy, even after all these years, with three lockable drawers and two sideboards. But you only make use of one sideboard and the top drawer.

The second drawer holds your school report cards and the arts and crafts projects you’d made for your father during your childhood. He’d lovingly labelled the front of the drawer with your name, decorated with worn-down holographic butterfly stickers and beloved cartoon characters that once filled your days with joy.

As you lean closer, a faint scent drifts up from the surface—something sweet and sharp, reminiscent of overripe fruit mingling with the dust of distant memories. Memories of your youth that now left far behind you. 

Despite knowing better, you attempt to unlock the bottom drawer with your key but it doesn’t seem to work. The key slides in but doesn’t unlock the drawer as you rotate it. It was an oddity that always piqued your curiosity, made worse by the fact that it couldn’t unlock the right sideboard either. 

The key slides into the lock for the left sideboard, unlocking with a satisfying ‘click!’ as you turn it. Opening the door, you smile nostalgically, greeted by the sight of all the short stories your father wrote for you—from the fading, tattered yellow spine of his very first storybook to the deep red of his final creation.

‘Mister Fox.��

Your non-dominant hand reaches out, gently sliding the final storybook free from its slot and into the warmth of your palms. “I bet you’d want me to show them this one. You told me it was your favorite…”

Nostalgia begins to pulse through your veins as you sit down on the floor, your fingers tracing the letters written in gold across the cover, accompanied by a whimsical illustration of a fox.

As your hand glides over the gold letters of your father’s name, a dull ache settles in your chest. You brush away small remnants of dust from the cover, a gentle reminder of time passed.

This was a storybook you had only read once with him, a cherished moment before the day that irrevocably changed the course of your life. The crimson of the book in your hands feels almost too bright against the sombre memories, a stark reminder of what you’d found, what you’d seen that day.

You inhale shakily, your hand pausing on the cover as your heart pounds, the weight of those memories suddenly pressing down on you. The book in your hands feels like it’s carrying the weight of the world within it’s pages. The harsh scent of iron and the rancid, sour stench of bile assault your nostrils, pulling you back to that day as if you were reliving it all over again.

You exhale deeply, reaching for the cold bottle of water you’d brought to the buffet. You clench the plastic, causing it to crunch in your grasp. The chill spreads across your palm and fingers, before you jolt, realising too late that you’ve grabbed it with your damaged hand. Pain shoots through your wrist like a thousand lightning bolts.

You wince, groaning as the bottle slips from your grasp, hitting the floor with a soft thud. You draw your injured wrist close to your chest, clenching it firmly into a fist, waiting for the pain to subside.

On the bright side, the memory has faded like a ghost, disappearing into the deepest depths of your mind until it's roused once more. On the less bright side, you can already hear Fyodor’s morning lecture on being more careful echoing in your mind. 

  As the pain dulls, your attention draws itself back to the small crimson, hardcover notebook that your father had written ‘Mister Fox’ in. It was the same size and brand as the other storybooks tucked away in the sideboard, though in much better condition. 

The artwork on the front cover was whimsical and cute, depicting a charming orange fox with a long bushy tail, surrounded by delicate purple foxgloves. It's pouncing forward, a large cartoonish grin on it's face as it's frozen in time, caught midleap over your father's name written on the cover.

It was pure luck, your father had told you, a wide, lopsided grin on his face. He had just come back from the store, his breath faintly tinged with the smell of something sweet, when he ran into an amazing artist who’d happily drawn the cover for him, free of charge.

Although he couldn’t remember the name of the artist when you’d asked him…

You gently open the notebook, reading the dedication inside. Each book held a different message, all addressed to you.

“To my beautiful daughter,

Remember that I have always and will always love you. I have countless regrets, but you, my little Dahlia, will forever be the single most precious thing in my universe. You are a blessing to me.”

Your lips quirk upwards as your fingertips gently trace over the last dahlia he’d ever tried to draw for you at the bottom of the dedication, scribbled in with a black marker. It was shakily rendered with a nearly empty pen, but to you, it was perfect; imperfections and all. 

“I love you too, Dad,” you whisper sorrowfully, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you begin reading through your father’s last storybook.

The story tells of a charming fox who lived deep in the forest, enjoying a peaceful life. He had everything he could ask for; comfort, peace and food. Until one day, he heard a baby bunny crying and rushed out to find a giant wolf threatening her. The brave fox confronted the wolf and, after a tense standoff, the wolf retreated.

The grateful bunny called the fox her hero, but he felt guilty about his past. He took her back to his cozy den, where they shared food and comfort. He raised the baby bunny for a long while, as his guilt was eating at him from the inside.

Later, overwhelmed by his guilt, the fox confessed his dark history to the bunny, warning her of the danger he posed. He knew the bunny would despise him, hate him for revealing himself as the monster he is. No different than the wolf who had cornered her and tried to eat her when she was a kit.

However, the bunny, undeterred, expressed her belief in his goodness and forgave him for his past. Touched by her words, the fox promised to change for her sake. From that day on, they lived happily together, with the fox dedicated to protecting the bunny he loved like his own daughter.

Your eyes linger on the final scribble in the notebook, a depiction of the fox carrying the bunny on his back. That’s what it was supposed to represent, at least. In truth, it looked more like a smaller, paler orange atop a larger one, with sausage-like legs.

Your father was a writer, not an artist, after all.

Gently, you close the book, holding it tightly to your chest for a moment. This was your father’s final gift before his passing. He didn't get the chance to take it to the writer’s convention himself.

You just knew that if they had read it, this book would have been his breakthrough. It would have been both his first and only step into the literary world...

He had passed his flame to you, his torch now yours to carry. His legacy rested solely on your shoulders.

First, you would get his book out there, and it would be published. Then, after helping get Fyodor’s book out into the world, you would continue to carry the flame for your father.

This book would be the first of many that you would see to publishing under your father's name. The rest of the books in the buffet table would come after. You'd make sure each and every one would see the light of day.

This was the least you could do for him. After all the sacrifices he made for you, after all he had done for you, you owed him that much, didn’t you?

𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝕽𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 ♡ © 𝐹𝓁𝓊𝓇𝓇𝓎𝑜𝒻𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈-𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦

Next

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@tecchoussuperlady @hearts4heidi @lovestruckbook @wixxlemuff @twinkaesop @livelaughyo @yonseibananamilk @honeyangelsblog @soggyoreoinmilk @verminthorr @cherridove @slowlyfoulenthusiast @youngkidchaos

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[potatomountain]

Alien In My Living Room

Pairing: Alien!Hongjoong x fem reader x neighbor Cowboy! San Summary: After inheriting your farm it's been a struggle- not as much as the alien that crashed there and has been a little menace for some time. A big enough menace your neighbor (and crush) come over at the wrong time- or maybe the right time. WC: 4k AU: cowboy vs alien! hentai Genre: pwp, scifi Warning(s): 18+ rating, eggpreg, breeding kink, tentacles, weird bodily anomalies. rainbowish cum, restraints, some slight predator/prey dynamics if you squint. threesome. double penetration, anal (male/female receiving) Betas: @bunnliix ~ @adelusionforyourthoughts ~ @yourfatherlucifer AN: Happy birthday to the LOML Kim Hongjoong! And also a happy birthday to one of my favorite fanfic writers @sanjoongie !! You can probably guess what bits were thrown in just for you! ps: I kinda got the idea from the song "Llama in my Living Room" by AronChupa! dividers and Banner by me! Ageless blogs that interact with this piece, even a like, will be blocked INSTANTLY, no exceptions.

Main Masterlist

The worst part of being a city girl from a farm was when the farm became yours. Still a year into owning and living back on your family’s farm and you still had no idea what to do with all the land. Your neighbors handled the last harvest, and you debated selling more of the land to them and mostly keeping the ranch house. Of course you knew how to take care of the land, you grew up doing so, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to spend your adult life doing it either.

But that hadn’t been a problem for the last couple of months. Instead your biggest concern was what the fuck you were going to do about the Alien that had taken up residence on your land. He looked human enough, but not at first. His pretty face didn’t erase the being you knew was under there, more limbs than torso, the translucent pink his hair currently was. How he had molded into a man that looked like one of the idols on your posters was beyond you. Though you supposed it wasn’t a complete transformation, as you learned the one time you saw him shirtless. If you ignored that, he was pretty to look at.

But he was also annoying.

“Are you ever going to fix your stupid ship and get out of here?” You snapped out, swiveling in your desk chair to glare at the being who was currently harassing your cat, again. Why your cat stood for it and didn’t hiss was beyond you, weren’t they good predators? Salem managed to slip out of Hongjoong’s hands, running for one of the many hidey holes he had around your home. Hongjoong looked up from the floor with wide blue eyes, the stars themselves shining in his irises. “I thought you liked having me around here?” “You’re terrorizing my adorable kitten and you’re out there at ungodly hours banging and causing a ruckus! Why would I like that?” You huffed out again, crossing your arms over your chest. “And for a creature that doesn’t eat, you sure like to eat all my food!” “I’m sorry- I need energy and I can’t get it my usual ways.” He protested, crawling over to you in such a clumsy way you wondered how this could be a being capable of space travel.

You frowned, lifting your leg to press your heel into his shoulder and stop him from getting too close. “What do you mean- that sounds awfully sus.” “Sus?” “Suspicious. Jesus, you managed to learn how to blend in so well but you can’t manage the lingo?” You rolled your eyes, still unsure how he managed to adapt so effortlessly. He never gave you an explanation, just transformed fully into this and within a few days he was talking like he had lived on earth his whole life- minus missing many social cues. “Anyways, I thought you didn’t need to eat so why do you need the extra energy now?” Hongjoong was still pressing forward, something different in his eyes that made you apprehensive. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question. 

The sudden appearance of one of his nearly translucent tentacles sliding up your leg sent off warning bells in your head. It pushed up the fabric of your sweatpants, leaving behind a little bit of slick that darkened the light gray fabric. Was it supposed to be wet? “I need the extra energy to produce and lay my eggs… you’re really warm actually.” The words came out like a lustful purr, furthering your panic. Quickly you slapped the tentacle aside, watching him wince as you stood up and put distance between you. “Sorry for asking, this is super interesting stuff but I uh- gotta go catch my fridge.” You mentally slapped yourself for the stupid excuse, but hoped he would buy it as you rushed out of your office.

He hadn’t been flirting with you had he? Hadn’t implied to fuck his eggs into you… that’s what you told yourself. Yet the idea was now in your head, as was the question if he even had a dick or would he use-

The train of thought had your body reacting, which just concerned you even more. He was an alien! Why couldn’t you have dirty thoughts about your neighbor instead? The mental reminder of the cowboy next door just had your cheeks even more heated, slapping them in an attempt to control yourself. Why were you suddenly so damn horny? You really needed the fresh air, booking it towards your kitchen and back patio.

However, you didn’t make it through the living room before you were tackled to the couch, bent over the arm and face in the cushions. You hadn’t even heard him following you, but now you could feel him pressing down against your back, his heavy pants so obvious as he leaned over your body close enough you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Sorry Star, but you ran away smelling so good. Humans like consent, right?” He sounded quite worked up, touching you in several ways that was making your mind fuzzy with heat. His hands pushed up your shirt, but there were several tentacles touching your skin. They were warm and slick, slithering over your flesh.

You realized you enjoyed how they felt, skin feeling hotter where the slick remained, almost sensitive. “W-we do. Hongjoong, what do you normally do with your eggs?” “Incubator on ship…” He panted out, his hands now pinning your arms to the cushion above you. “It broke when I crashed, don’t have the parts to fix it. Keep them safe until I return home to gift… but I can't wait.”

Biting down on your lip as the tips of his tentacles rubbed at your nipples under your bra- which you don’t remember getting pushed up - you tried to turn your head to look at him, just to have your breath catching in your throat at his needy expression. You could really see the stars in the blue of his eyes, no white in sight. His tongue lulled out, the same translucent pastels as the tentacles roaming your body. He was losing his human visage, but in the slightest ways, even the pale pink of his hair seemed almost otherworldly with how it fell in his face.

You should tell him off, knowing that the pleading look he gave you was your consent. As annoying as the creature was, he was not unbearable or disrespectful, changing any errors he made to suit your tastes. It was that knowledge that had you caving in. Within seconds of your nod your clothes were gone, bra and panties in particular ripped off you as you were put in such a lewd position but you couldn’t find the time to feel ashamed. Not when the warm slick of one of his appendages was rubbing between your slick folds, teasing you, while the rest sought out sensitive bits and toyed with them. They sucked on your nipples, rubbing around your throat and adding pleasure that made your head spin. Hongjoong let out a particularly pornagraphic moan just behind you that just added to the haze you were beginning to drown in. “Oh you like that?” He chuckled before moaning louder, moaning your name, which had your body reacting. The shiver that coursed through you had your back arching in response, pushing your behinds back against him. You wanted more.

He happily gave you more, pushing the tentacle into you with an inhuman cry of his own. It almost sounded eerie, probably did, but you lust-addled mind didn’t register at such. It did register another male calling your name in a panic, and your kitchen door slamming open. 

You looked up in time to see your friendly neighbor, once childhood friend, standing in the archway of your living room, beautiful sun kissed skin almost pale from the shock that the visage of Hongjoong probably presented. There were at least four tentacles on your body at the moment, and you couldn’t see how many more he had out, but enough to really shock the muscle man as he passed out, falling to the ground.

“San?” You attempted to pull away from Hongjoong, concerned for the man that laid on your wooden floor. His cowboy hat had fallen off, a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead and skin exposed under the vest. You were a lot less concerned than you should be, instead finding him quite delectable, almost like you wanted to jump onto his cock. The harsh way Hongjoong shoved his tentacle deeper into your cunt distracted you from those thoughts. “Pay attention to me Star, I’m the one fucking you.” He growled out, his hold on you tightening all over possessively. Gone was the needy being from a moment ago, Hongjoong was now completely in charge with the way you were lifted up off the couch and displayed in the air. He turned you to watch him, his own clothes coming off. He still had the shape of a human, even a cock you noticed, but the colors of his tentacles now moved over his skin like a work of art.

It was hypnotizing. “Hongjoong~” You whined out, glancing down as best you could to take in the sight of just how he was fucking you. Like straight out of a hentail, the sensations were almost too much.

It was his thumb on your clit that drove you over the edge, rubbing it in perfect stimulating circles that you cried out, creaming all over the slimy tendril. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his body practically vibrating and you wondered how good it must feel to him for him to look so blissed out.

You didn’t get a chance to ask, falling to the couch the next second as Hongjoong was tackled to the floor by your neighbor. In the struggle he had let go of you completely, the wind knocked out of you from your fall, but some sense knocked into you as well. Still catching your breath you scrambled up, unsure just where to insert yourself in the mess of limbs flying about. “San! Hongjoong! Stop it!” You couldn’t really blame San for freaking out, since Hongjoong was an alien just casually in your living room. Casually fucking you, but making sounds that could be misconstrued.

San halted his fist, sitting on top of the being that had most of his other limbs restrained with his own. “But Miss he-” “He’s a friend San, alien or not.” You huffed out, bending down next to them and fixing Hongjoong with a stare. “And you won’t harm him either.” “But you were thinking about him fucking you! While I was inside you, it’s not fair!” He actually pouted, which was almost funny.

You were too embarrassed to laugh, San turning his attention to you. How could you not want to fuck him though? Toned cowboy, a real gentleman that had been helping you with the farm- even now in dusty jeans and a leather vest, hair tossled from when his hat fell off, he was fine as fuck. “Have you really not been noticing the way I eye fuck you when I ask your help for any manual labor?” “I… didn’t want to get my hopes up-” San mumbled out, just to get flipped over suddenly, Hongjoong holding him down. “Hey!!” “She’s mine human- back off!” “Like hell I will. You don’t have a claim on her.” “I was in the middle of that when you so rudely interrupted.” As if to show off, he moved one tentacle over to you, wrapping around your bare thigh and then the tip shoved itself back into your cunt. Instantly you moaned out, head falling back as it pushed deep. “Think you can fuck her like this?” San was pouty as he watched, but the lust there was unmistakable. “You have a lot to fuck her with. That doesn’t mean shit- is that a fucking egg.” San screeched out, both of you watching a small round object move through the tube-like appendage. You could feel it as it moved along your thigh, heart racing with panic. You tried to grab at it, stop him, but he had your arms pinned at your sides. The stars in his eyes swirled with chaos, striking you with a bit of fear.

Fear that melted away as you were stretched out more than you thought possible, the egg shooting up into you and pushed into your womb. It was intense, head falling back as you cried out, shaking from the sensation.

“Oh my God-” San was in awe at your sight, which drew your attention even through the haze. You wanted to slump forward, instead you couldn’t tear your eyes away as cum shot out of Hongjoong’s pink cock onto San, covering him in what looked like melted pearls. “Fuck-” San winced as a splatter got on his cheek, but Hongjoong wasn’t paying attention to either of you.

For what seemed like an eternity, both you and San couldn’t tear your eyes away from the alien. His tendrils trembled from the aftershocks of his climax, his hands moving up his body and twisting his own pink nipples while there was a soft glow behind his closed eyes.

You did notice that Hongjoong was no longer holding San down, just sitting on his thighs and tilted back in pure bliss. San could’ve easily pushed him off, in fact you had no idea why he didn’t. Was he just as enamored with the alien as you were?

The shifting between your legs reminded you that you were still impaled on the alien tentacle, though now he was pulling out. In a moment of panic you tried to grab at it, whining because you didn’t want to be left empty.

But even as it was pulled out, you didn’t feel empty though, the egg inside a weighted reminder that you were being bred. Collapsing forward on your palms not that you were let go, you panted out. “J-Joongie~ Please give me more.” You whined, needing more, and that was all you could think about in your hazy state. Hongjoong murmured something in a language you didn’t understand- what you recognized as his own language- as he slipped off of San and practically ignored you. So you whined again, reaching out for him.

“Are you just going to ignore her?” San scoffed, pushing himself up onto his elbows now that he was mostly free.

Hongjoong shook his head, most of his extra limbs retracting. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” San screeched out just as you let out a loud noise of confusion. You were getting really hot now.

In a flash, San's clothes were just gone, exposing his own thick and throbbing cock standing at attention. Your eyes zeroed in, spit building up in your mouth as the need for Hongjoong shifted to San and his throbbing member. Hongjoong giggled breathlessly, motioning with his fingers to the two of you. “Fuck. Fertilize. Next egg is prepping.” He rubbed his lower stomach now, a tiny bulge there that you noticed finally.

The eagerness to be filled with another egg had you crawling over to San and straddling his lap.

“Hey hey wait- sweetheart just think- fuck~!” San’s protests were cut off as you impaled yourself down on his cock, all fight leaving him as he grabbed your sides. “Fuck I think I can feel it. It’s hot. You’re throbbing… sweetheart I-” “Shut up and just fuck me San. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it before.” Sliding a hand up through his hair, you tugged at it to get his full attention. “Or did you wear such a slutty outfit just for the hell of it and not to get me staring?” He swallowed hard, heat darkening his features and a bashful pout on his features. “But not like this.” He didn’t deny, and for you that was enough reason to roll your hips and feel him move inside you. He was harder than the tentacles, but just as deep that he probably could feel that large egg sitting in your womb. “Sweetheart please.” 

“Would you prefer to carry my eggs?” Hongjoong moved to sit beside you both, staring at the spot of cum that had dried on San’s sharp cheek. “Because I can arrange that.” Neither of you answered, both instead groaning at the thought, picturing San’s taunt stomach bulged out with the tentacles or eggs or both. Hongjoong laughed at your thoughts, at least it seemed so with the knowing smirk on his lips. “I could just fuck you both that way.”

You were on your back the next second, legs pushed up by San’s thighs and both of your behinds exposed to the warm air of your home. He seemed just as surprised as you were, only for his confusion to melt away, brows furrowed as he looked down between you. Your slightly swollen stomach was a sight to see pressed against his lower abdomen- hell he was a sight to behold just hunched over you and trapping you in with your legs and his wide shoulders. There was a slap, San lurching forward with a yelp that quickly turned into a groan, leading to control snapping and he was finally giving you what you wanted. “Sorry Sweetheart~” He drawled out, rough hands from years of farm work holding your hips still as he slammed his cock into you at an even rougher pace.

You didn’t care one bit, head falling back and just taking what he was giving you. It felt like a heavy haze of lust was encompassing you again, moans spilling from your lips as all you could do was lay there and get bred. Not that you minded at all.

Greedily you grabbed onto San’s shoulders, nails digging in as he bent forward more to rest his forehead on your shoulder. The soft grunts and whispers of your name and the dozens of different names of endearment he had for you falling from your lips. His breath felt hot on your skin, but nothing beat the pulsating heat from your womb.

Not even the slick intrusion in your rear, which by San’s reaction, he had a similar intrusion. “Fucking hell- my ass!” He twisted enough to growl at the alien that refused to be forgotten, just to let out a higher pitched moan than he was moments ago. It almost matched yours, the double penetration of his cock and now one of Hongjoong’s slimy tentacles pushing up inside, made everything almost impossibly tight.

For you and San. “What, don’t like it?” Hongjoong mused, thrusting the tendrils in and pushing you both across the floor a bit. “Do I need to do the fucking as well.” With an annoyed hiss, San turned back to you, a challenge in his eyes that ended up matched by his dimpled smirk. “Seems like he got lonely, doesn’t it sweetheart?” You nodded, eyes rolling back at how deep both your holes were currently filled. “D-don’t mind. Come on Sannie baby, fill me up. He wants it so bad~ give it to me please.” With how tightly you two were pressed together you managed to grab his firm butt cheeks, loving how they tensed as your nails dug in deep. 

He hissed again, then picked up pace that put his earlier one to shame. Now cries and screams fell from your lips, the wood beneath your back a harsh reminder of where you were but with both of them fucking you at such an animalistic pace you couldn’t even think.

Even when you came you could hardly tell when it started or passed, just trembling beneath them and holding on for your dear life. 

Hongjoong was just in sight to the side of you both, stroking his pink cock in sync with the tendrils he was fucking you both with. You were well aware when San started spilling his seed into you, his cry matched by an almost overwhelming heat between your legs as he filled you up deep. The egg pulsated in your womb, just absorbing what San was giving you, satisfying you in ways you didn’t know you needed.

The alien stilled himself inside you both, no eggs pushed in but his pretty pearlescent cum splattered on the side of both San and yours faces. The second it seemed to touch your skin the haze in your mind seemed to thicken. It would have you suspicious if you didn’t feel so damned content and peaceful.

In fact, so content and peaceful that the next time you were actively aware of your body and mind you were sitting on the couch, cleaned up and curled against San’s side. The man was once more wearing pants, a blanket was wrapped around you, and Hongjoong was sitting on the coffee table passing for a regular human almost.

The two were chatting, and you couldn’t really make out what was said until Hongjoong caught your attention with the phrase “I thought I’d never get you two to breed.” You sat up, frowning a bit. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” By the sudden panic on his face, you guessed he hadn’t realized he said it. “Well- uh- I mean you’ve been thinking about sleeping with him since I got here!” While it wasn’t a lie, you shifted to get up and interrogate him more. 

Both Hongjoong and San stopped you, hands on your swollen and heated stomach. Right, they had literally just bred you…. Convenient that San had stopped over when he did. “Sannie, why did you stop over today?” “The last few weeks there were usually weird sounds coming from your field around this time so I thought I could come over and ask you about it.” The sweet man was staring at your stomach, much more calm about this situation than he had been earlier.

Even you felt more calm, which was alarming by itself. You don’t remember any sounds around this time, but it was also the time of day that Hongjoong would be in the barn working on fixing his ship. Today he insisted on bothering your cat Salem though… it clicked. Slowly you turned to the inhuman being who looked to be perspiring oil down his neck. “Hongjoong… did you plan this from the beginning?”

San joined you in staring the nervous alien down, which considering what had just transpire was an ironic turn of events. “Now that you mention it… it is odd. When he was touching me I just got so damned horny too.”

“Same actually… think it’s some alien trick?”

“Maybe the slime?”

“Hmm maybe… fucking hell we’re talking about this like it’s the weather. What the hell did you do Hongjoong?” You snapped out, hissing at the creature.

He couldn’t meet your eyes, but his explanation came out like word-vomit. How his ship was technically fixed weeks ago, his incubator was fine, but he couldn’t leave like that. It took both you and San to pull it out of him. “Because I maybe, accidentally, imprinted on you both… now I’ll get sick if I’m away from you two for too long… Might have made sure it’s the same for you both now…” He pointed to your stomach, really solidifying what you had done.

San and you both scoffed, then shared a nonchalant look. Despite the daunting situation, there was a big part of you that you didn’t think would have minded even without the added imprint or whatever Alien thing Hongjoong had going on. It seemed the same for him. Still, you both grinned, then laughed. “Ha. Aliens.”

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| @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630 | @isiloiale | @plutoneu | @venn-ie

| @therealcuppicake | @lavishloving | @pearltinyy | @vampiregirl215

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[frootloopscos]

Grim starts bidding war for Yuu’s hand in marriage ;3

Oh hohoho, I couldn’t help it and had to write this!

Grim steals your phone and starts a bidding war!

Yuu held Grim by his scruff as they yelled at him, “why in the name of the Seven would you do that?!” Grim whined, struggling in your grasp, “I wanted more tunaaaaa! And the dumb headmage doesn’t pay you anything!” He said crossing his arms, “now you have marriage proposals and money! What more could you want?” Grim asked Yuu as they stared at him with murderous intent.

“How many times do I have to remind you that I’m not from this world, I have no documentation I belong here.” Yuu said before dropping the cat to the floor. Now I have to go clean your mess and explain to everyone that that bidding was fake!”

Or at least

That’s what they tried to do

But Crowley being the “kind” headmage he is decided that no! The bidding shall go on, and whoever puts in the highest bid gets to keep Yuu in their dorm (with the addition of bragging rights)!

So here Yuu was standing in front of ramshackle with everything packed up and hiding behind Professor Crewel who had tried to intervene to no avail and thus instead was there to protect the Prefect of Ramshackle incase anything were to go wrong. Crowley stood proudly next to the two with an envelope in hand, “and without further ado, the winner of the prefect is….”

—————

GUESS WHOS FUCKING BACK BITCHES!

This is gonna be a short mini Sires with the dorm leaders (as I write and post the results of each I’ll link them in here as well) to rid my writers block!

(Everyone say thank you to King and the anons who entered my ask box while I was on break!)

Posted: May 13th, 2024

Edited: N/A

Tag list: @naompspsps @bagofburntcreampuffs @lemon-koii @bluerosegardens @lost-woods-rabbit @friskybee @amebaby @transriddlerosehearts @imhere2dosomething @g0ul666 @stupidneko

Want to be added to the taglist?

[loveandleases]

G's, M's and Isaac's most embarassing memory (for G with and without MC if possible?), most fond, most cherished?

Sure thing! Going to put it under a cut because it got quite long.

💙 G

Most Embarrassing: The first time G's parents came to visit them at Uni, a certain roommate was having sex in the room, and G's parents thought it was G x Chris.

Most Fond: Back in Uni, G, Cam, and MC would pull all-nighters at the cafe. Early on G was following in their parent's footsteps of going to medical school with the end goal of becoming a surgeon. They really struggled and one of their ways of coping was drawing in the margins of their books or even Cam and MC's. The pages would have a little dog or a cat, just dressed in a lab coat.

One late night, after a long cram session, G was exhausted and a bit vulnerable. Cam was listing off random get-rich-quick schemes so that he could drop out and just become a photographer. (Each idea worse than the previous one). MC glanced over at G, noticed one of their doodles, and said, "You'd probably treat patients better if they had fur."

It was such a simple, offhanded comment. But that night, something about it just resonated with G. The thought just lingered, and for the first time, they were considering what they might want. That one little sentence from MC became a catalyst, it planted a seed of doubt about their future - and it threw their plan on its head. Regardless of what happened between them, they can fondly reflect on that moment in time. Because that comment changed their life for the better.

Most Cherished: (Ex) Their first kiss with MC (which was also G's first kiss.) It was unexpected, yet everything they could have hoped for if they allowed themselves to dream big. (Ex/Friend) When G was in the process of figuring out if they wanted to be a Vet, they had gotten Cam to agree to come with them to volunteer at an animal shelter. They were tasked with bathing the animals. Which was fine....at first. About 6 animals in, G had noticed that Cam kept scratching, to the point that he thought he was having an allergic reaction. Nope, Cam just caught fleas. So, every Christmas. G gifts Cam flea shampoo. The tag always says “Just a little something for our favorite shelter stray.”

💛 M

Most Embarrassing: Before M was a writer, they used to work at the cafe. One day a person walked up to them and asked them out.

“Hey, would you maybe want to go out sometime?”

M, as oblivious as ever, misunderstood completely and thought they were being asked if the person wanted their order taken outside. Without missing a beat, M grabbed the person’s coffee, nodded enthusiastically, and said, “Sure, I can take that outside for you.””

The person was so confused as M casually walked to the door, set the order down on the sidewalk, and gave a little wave. “There you go, all set!”

In the person’s eyes, not only did they get turned down for a date, but M had essentially kicked them out while smiling.

Most Fond: M had struggled for years trying to get published. There would be days when they were supposed to be helping in the kitchen of the cafe, but instead, they were jotting down things for their book on stray pieces of paper. They read all the books you will find in the Cafe, leafing through them hoping that each bit of knowledge they gained would help them become a better writer.

It wasn't needed, but M was certain there was just something wrong with their work. Until one day, it just happened. Their manuscript was accepted. The first people they called were their mom's. It was one of the best moments in M's life thus far. Even though they were barely able to afford rent, and the only food in their fridge was a jar of marmalade.

Most Cherished: After their first book was published and it picked up traction, it became quite popular. M was struggling with writer's block, which they tend to do. So they visited the cafe and the first thing they saw on the counter, was a copy of their book. M had thought about giving up so many times, but to be in that place it was a full circle moment for them.

💜 Isaac

Most Embarrassing: Isaac and Ardent used to have a thing. One day the two of them are in the little elevator of Ardent's apartment building. Their hands are roaming one another's bodies, sliding underneath fabric, both of them caught up in the heat of the moment. Now imagine their surprise when the first face and voice they see is Ardent's mother when the elevator door opens.

Most Fond: When they became sober, truly sober. Kara really kept Isaac in check, and reminded him what he was doing it for. Who he was doing it for. It took a lot to get to that point, and Isaac doesn't believe they could have done it without Kara there to support them.

Most Cherished: Spoiler, but I can say it involves their mother.