#but just imagine this power that's so simple but so terrifying

[ridiasfangirlings]

What if Yata Misaki was a dangerous strain? Like he's incredibly dangerous. What would be his powers? How would he find out? And does HOMRA know? You can answer if you like, but if you don't want to, it's ok.

If he was that dangerous I imagine his powers would have to be something that he can’t even control, since Yata’s not the type to use his powers for bad things. Maybe it’s similar to Neko in how he can use the power without being aware of it, like he can get people to agree to anything he says even if it’s something like ‘go jump off a bridge.’ And in fact maybe that’s how Yata finds out about the power, when he’s a little kid and dealing with some bullies and after he kicks their asses and is chasing them off he yells “That’s right, go die!” — and the bullies, who are only around Yata’s age as well, suddenly veer off into the street right in front of an oncoming truck. 

Yata is horrified and in the aftermath his mom tells him not to worry, it was just a coincidence and not his fault, but Yata keeps feeling like it must be. He gets really agitated and yells at his mom to stop talking to him and suddenly she goes quiet. She doesn’t talk to him for two days until he hesitantly begs her to start talking again and she does, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she hasn’t spoken to him for two days. Poor Yata is so worried and scared, like he’s sure this must be some superpower but it’s not a cool one at all, it’s one he can’t control and he’s the kind of kid who just blurts things out so what if one day he says something terrible again.

Due to this I think Yata would grow up to be somewhat different than in canon, I imagine him being much more quiet and reserved because he’s afraid he’ll accidentally say something he can’t take back. When he befriends Fushimi though it’s both exhilarating and terrifying, because Saruhiko is the one who tells him what they’ll do together and hates himself to be told what to do, so it’s easy for Yata to hold his tongue. But at the same time it’s also terrifying because Yata cares about him so much that he still worries one day he’ll blow it by forcing Saruhiko to do something he doesn’t want to (oh and imagine the betrayal scene in this AU, with Yata who knows that all he has to do is say ‘come back’ and Saruhiko won’t have a choice — but he’ll hate Yata forever, and it won’t be the same Saruhiko as before).

Homra I imagine finding out when the incident at the center with Anna happens. Anna I feel like would know Yata’s a Strain too, her powers make it easy for her to recognize his powers (and in fact maybe his powers won’t work on her or on Mikoto either for that matter, since he’s a King, and that’s why Yata is so attached to them both). Yata is so worried that if everyone finds out they’ll hate him and Anna promises to keep the secret, Mikoto is probably present too and just ruffles Yata’s hair and tells him not to worry so much. Yata feels more at ease about that but then imagine when Fushimi joins S4 and discovers that the Gold clan — and by extension Scepter 4 — has known all along that Yata’s an incredibly dangerous Strain and Yata never told him, and of course Fushimi just says it in front of everybody at some point. Yata’s worried Homra will hate him but the guys are all supportive,  no one’s afraid of him at all and Yata thinks this is the place he can belong after all. (And then Mikoto dies and Homra is about to disband, and Yata without thinking bursts out with ‘don’t leave, Homra has to stay together’ and gets his wish in the worst way possible).

[pokechbi]

🎀The Holy Trinity🎀

🎀summary🎀

Ghost x König x Soap x Reader (4sum) !!

18+ V NSFW!

Word count: 11.5k 💕 (not proofread yet!)

Enjoy! <3

She was the invisible woman they didn’t know they needed. The woman no one seemed to pay any attention to as she quickly paced the hallways trying to get back to the sanctity of her office. No one actually paid her any mind, howbeit her detrimental job as the base medic. She had been tasked to perform her duties in the wing that housed the Special Forces, along with the men of Task Force 141. There were many powerful, brave soldiers that could’ve caught her attention, but there were 3 in particular that grabbed her by her very womanhood and kept on squeezing, threatening her morals and standards to leak right out of her.

König, the 6’10, patriotic Austrian beast of a soldier who most definitely was a man of few words. When she treated him, he sat confidently, staring a hole into her soul. He was definitely a man whom she felt was socially anxious, and in a way it made her feel, connected to him. She had imagined that it had to be due to his size. He was hard to miss, often turning heads and stopping conversations everywhere he went. She felt the same way at times, finding solstice in being alone, and away from the terrifying stare and judgement from the rest of the soldiers and staff on the base. She wasn’t bullied, but she was definitely not one who fit in with the rest of the medics in her department. She made it a priority to do her deed and leave to her apartment at the end of the day, not bothering to make many friends. The only friends she had managed to make were the two nurses who tended to the front end of the medical ward in the Task Force’s wing. The three of them often went out for drinks at the bar just outside of the base’s gates.

König rarely spoke to her, but when he did, she found herself wanting it to never end. His voice was honey to her ears, a warm embrace in a cold and hard world. Even sitting down on the bed, he towered over her and made her hands shake and her heart pound so hard in her ears she was sure he could hear it. A habit she managed to kick years ago, working endlessly to rid herself of her shaky fingers and anxiety. All come undone by the simple presence of him. In a way, she secretly adored it. Adored him. She found herself thinking of him at the end of a long day, much like a teenage girl still in grade school. She was curious about him, and wanted to know all there was about the mysterious giant. What he looked like under that sniper hood, under his shirt, under those tight military cargos that she was sure got uncomfortably snug when he was aroused. It was nonsense, and she knew that. There was no way a man of his rank would even spare a second glance at her. But it was fun to fantasize.

John “Soap” MacTavish was the polar opposite of König. He was surely a man who would voice his mind whenever and wherever. She admired that about him. He spoke what was real, and gave not a single fuck about it. He was also a sweetheart, always throwing compliments her way and making her feel like hot shit. His spunky Mohawk was always a sight she loved to see in her examination room, and she made sure he knew it. She would return the favor of any compliments he spared her way, and it caused their friendship to blossom. She hoped it would evolve into something more, but Soap seemed like the kind of man who’d wham bam and thank you ma’am, albeit the romantic that he was. She wouldn’t mind it either way, though. A little taste of him couldn’t hurt.

And then there was Simon “Ghost” Riley. The grandest enigma of all three. The man was truly nerve wracking to be around. As nervous and anxious as he made her, she couldn’t help but feel enticed by his mysterious aura. She had no idea how he had managed to find himself on the same team as Soap, as menacing and serious as he usually was when around the base. When he found himself in her examination room, his eyes lingered a bit too long wherever she would touch last. She never knew why he did this, until their small talk had turned into something much more meaningful on one particular visit.

“You’ve got a soft touch, dear.” His rough, jagged accent ran from her ears straight down to that spot that made her squeeze her thighs together to keep it from leaving her. Hearing it wasn’t enough. She wanted it injected in her veins.

“No medic on this base has ever been this bloody gentle. They ought to hire more o’ ya.” He said with a low chuckle. That small, insignificant laugh regularly rang through her mind at the most unexpected moments. She could be doing dishes, cleaning her desk, anything. That laugh stuck to her like glitter on sweaty, sticky skin. She knew it wasn’t something he did often, so when she heard it, an icy cold shiver enveloped her skin and raised goosebumps. She loved it. Wanted to hear more. The lieutenant had her in a chokehold and there was nothing she could do to free herself.

So when she found herself sat in the same vicinity as the trio and a few of the other members of the Task Force in the bar just a ways off base on her birthday, she was understandably a nervous wreck. Just a few tables away, she felt as if the trio were breathing straight down her neck.

**✧*̥˚<3 *̥˚✧**

“Man, that hen from the medical wings’ got a crush on me, mark my words lads.” The Scot breathes, glancing over his shoulder. “Been givin’ me the eyes past few weeks.”

“Fuck’s sake, Johnny. She’s doing her job. Every time a woman spares you a look, you go whipped.” Simon says sternly, also glancing up at her every few minutes. He also found himself painfully interested in her, not wanting to admit to something that could threaten or demean the persona he’s worked so hard to build up. Often times he feels himself unable to help it, her soft touch and sweet smell permeating his senses when he’s least expecting it. No amount of working out, training, or smoking could shake the insatiable hunger he was starting to develop for her. He would visit her office when she was so blissfully unaware of him, just to see how she looked when she was swamped with paperwork, or just relaxing on her break. He was genuinely interested in how she lived, how she loved, how she felt. He hated Soap for the way he started to mention her in the lewdest of ways, only encouraging his raging, exponential growth of feelings for her. A medic? Of all the hardcore, tough women on base that could do him just right, he wanted that one. The one who’s knees would buckle under her if he so much as breathed in her ear. He wondered what it would take to break her mind, body and soul until all she could think about was his thick, fat cock and all the places she could take him. He shifts in his seat at the thought of it, adjusting his pants. God forbid if Johnny saw the way he was rocked up at just the mere sight of her. He’d never hear the end of it.

“What about you, König?” Soap says with a sly smirk. His ears perk up at his name, usually excluded from the conversation due to his introverted nature. “Want a piece of ‘er? I know you do.” He leans forward, lowering his voice. “All the quiet ones are the biggest freaks, aye?” He continues.

“ Ich würde sie direkt an diesem Tisch ficken.” König says lowly, hoping no one else at this club spoke his language. Soap and Ghost glance at each other in confusion.

König knew what Soap said rang true. On all of his visits to her examination room, he’d put on this facade of being stone cold, not interested. But he was more than interested. He wanted to know how she would fare under his touch, how much it would take for him to absolutely ruin her. He was nervous at the very sight of her. She was the reason he’d taken his hygiene more seriously. The reason he started scrubbing his cock and balls more thoroughly every shower, on the off chance that he’d actually get to take her right on that little hospital bed he had made more excuses to come and sit on. She was the reason he became distracted from his work, all of his thoughts eventually turning into some unholy fantasy about her. He often fiddled with his knives to distract himself, to ground himself from any given stress. But to no avail. He wondered if she liked knives, if it was something she’d ever even thought about, if it was something she would let him teach her. It always started innocently like that. Then he wondered how fast he’d be able to cut every single piece of clothing off of her. He wanted to run the knife along her pretty, velvety skin, marking her with every swipe of the blade. Marking her with him.

Surprised at the silence at the table after he asked, Soap grew curious. He chuckled deviously as he leans forward, speaking lowly, keeping out of earshot from the rest of the table. “Well then, lads. I’m afraid we’ve reached an impasse.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And I’ve got the filthiest of ideas for a solution.”

**✧*̥˚ <3 *̥˚✧**

“ Their eyes are all over you. How do you not see it!” Her friend Belinda states, uncomfortably loud. She was glad to see that it wasn’t just her delusions making an appearance. Or the alcohol making her see things that weren't there. She smiles, looking down at her half-empty glass.

“There’s no way, Bal. Why would any of them be interested in me? I’m literally a nobody here” She states, smugly trying to fish more validation out of her. She takes another sip of her drink, wincing at how strong it was. It was her birthday. This was no time for girly drinks. She needed some liquid confidence. She had set her mind to approach one of them, but had no idea who would she would take the chance with. It was an ongoing debate that had been going on in her head for the past few weeks, her nerves practically incapacitating her whenever one of them showed up in her exam room. It felt silly, as if she were simply window shopping at the mall.

“You’re right, Bal. They’re all staring. Maybe they want you guys too. There’s enough of them to go around” She says with a low chuckle, a quiet green monster stirring awake in her belly. She couldn’t stand to see any of them wanting to be with anyone else, even if she had no right to feel that way. She hadn’t managed to speak any of them in a romantic manner other than Soap, who surely wanted in her panties by now. Maybe he’d be the one. Or König. Or Simon. All she knew was that she needed to be satiated. And fast.

“Well hello there ladies, how are ‘ye?” The Scot’s voice rang against her ears, making her freeze in place. She hadn’t seen him walk to their table, spaced out with the thoughts of who she would try and approach first. The girls were just as stunned as she was, smiling up flirtatiously at Soap through their eyelashes. She wanted to jump across the table and bash both of their heads against each other. She flinched at the new feeling she had, the newfound possession in her blood made her confused. She looked up at him, parting her lips to speak.

“It’s her birthdayyyy!” Bal says drunkenly, interrupting the modest approach she was going for.

“Well then!” Soap says, looking down at her, something close to amusement in his eyes. She could get used to this angle. “Come celebrate with us! We’ve got some pints about to roll out, what d’ ya say?” The entire table looks at her, waiting for an answer. Her mouth hangs open, the words stuck in her throat.

Her friend grabs her hand and practically drags her from the table. Bal and Sophia giggle like girls as they start approaching they boys’ table. Her heart pounds so hard, it threatens to break open its bony cage in hopes of escaping out of her mouth. When they finally reach the table, Bal and Sophia slide into the table, Soap smugly sitting in between the both of them. She bites her bottom lip nervously, the only spot left would be smushed in between König and Ghost. Not that it particularly bothered her, but it was still something embarrassing to have to do against her own will. In public, at that. She didn’t need the entire bar population to know that she would be more than happy to put all of her holes to use at once. She glances between the both of them as Ghost stands up, offering a spot between him and König.

“After you, luv” he says lowly. Goosebumps raise on her arms at the sound of his deep, husky, accented voice. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to hear the way he must have groaned and growled if she rode his cock like a cowgirl racing her favorite horse. She felt heat rise to her ears at the sudden infiltration of a dirty thought.

“Well thank you, Lieutenant. Didn’t know you were such a gentleman!” She says flirtatiously, the liquid courage going straight to her head. He freezes slightly at the way she addresses him, sending a white hot wave of deviousness to settle right in his balls. She smiles as she sits down, scooting closer to König’s large frame. She looks across the table to her friends, watching as their eyes widen at his height. He was the tallest at the table, even though he was sitting down. She loved to see the way he turned heads. The way women seemed to either cower from him, or wanted in his pants and how there seemed to be no in between. And she was no exception. She took a certain pride in being his primary care provider, feeling on top of the world sitting next to the king-sized man.

“Hey, König. How are you?” She says, greeting him quietly and sweetly. She spoke softly as if she would scare him away. She had a different approach for each man. She had it all calculated in her head, the subject being something that lingered in her thoughts for weeks and weeks on end. She felt pathetic trying to choose in between the three of them, not wanting to choose at all. She wished she could take them all at once, no regrets in the world. For Soap, she knew she wouldn’t have to hold back. She could be as flirty as she wanted, with not a care. She knew he’d soak it up like a damn sponge. For Ghost, she wanted to appear just as hard of a nut to crack as he did. She wanted to play mysterious too. For König, she knew he was a dominant, insatiable beast. How could a man of that stature not be? She wasn’t opposed to the idea of him making her his absolute whore.

“I’m well darling. And you?” He says his Austrian accent wet and thick on his words. The visible lines of his eyes squeezing together under his sniper hood. He was smiling? She thought to herself. Now that was a sight she could get used to seeing. She smiled back at him, parting her lips to speak, when the Scot interrupts her once again. Maybe his mouth wouldn’t run so much if he had someone sitting on it. She thought, heat rising to her ears and spreading to her cheeks. The more she sipped her drink, the bolder she felt her thoughts getting, threatening to breach the vocal barrier she’d worked so hard to build.

“It’s the lass’s birthday, aye? We’ll need some way to celebrate the life of our favorite doctor on base!” He says enthusiastically, raising his glass for a cheer. They all clink their glasses together, her eyes landing on König’s as she smirks at Soaps annoyingness. He smiles again and leans down to whisper in her ear.

“Happy birthday, Liebling.” He says lowly, his breath raising the hairs on her entire body. She looks at him and absentmindedly yet softly wraps her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a small hug. His muscles tensed under her touch, and his hands hesitated wrapping themselves around her waist as she hugged him.

“Thank you, König.” She says sweetly, an innocent smile splayed on her face.

She nuzzles her face in his neck, inhaling his masculine, musky pheromones. He smelled of what she would envision a man’s pure, raw love to smell like. She wanted it all over her skin, all over her bedsheets for her to smell the next morning.

“Do I smell good, doctor?” He says teasingly, her arms still wrapped around his neck. His Austrian accent rings through her ears, sinuously slithering it’s way down her core and settling into the deepest parts of her womanhood.

She freezes in place, letting out a breathy chuckle of embarrassment. She quickly gathers her thoughts and fixes the situation the only way she knows how. By flirting.

“You do, sir. Not sure what cologne you use, but I like it.” She purrs, leaning into his ear, not wanting the rest of the table to hear. He freezes under her touch, looking up at her with his half lidded blue orbs. She instantly noticed that look in his eyes. It was pure lust. And she wanted every single part of what it had to offer. She looked back at him with her same drunken gaze, not wanting to break the stare, afraid this moment would run out of the door, never to be seen again. Was he the one she wanted?

“Well thank you doctor, but I’m not wearing any.” He concludes smugly, scanning her face gently for a reaction. She smiles deviously, taking a sip of her drink and hoping to God he doesn’t notice the deep shade of red spreading from her ears to her entire face. She sits back, only now noticing how quiet the table got. She looks around and makes eye contact with her friends across the way, both of them seemingly shell-shocked at the bold display from her and Konig. She smiles at him, placing her glass down. They all begin speaking again. She looks her to her left at Ghost. As many times as she spent alone with him, he still wracked her nerves. He can tell that was the effect he had on her, so he leaned close to her and spoke near her ear with his hot, accented breath that sent shivers up her spine.

“Happy birthday, luv. Surely you don’t plan on spending it here, with the men who are always hurt and working you the hardest?” He says lowly, his voice barely a rasp. She bites her lip at his comment. He was surprisingly right. She could’ve been spending her birthday somewhere nicer. Maybe in the city, far away from her workplace. But she knew what she wanted for her birthday. She smiled at the thought.

“Oh? And why’s that, L.t?” She says teasingly, subtly scooting her way closer to him. His smell inches its way to her nose and wrapping itself around her brain. He smelled of masculine musk, cedarwood and the rough smell of the outdoors. He looked her face up and down, his gaze landing on her lips. He catches her gaze again and looks away, embarrassed at his own forwardness. She smirks to herself at his boldness. She sits back in her seat between Konig and Ghost, feeling like an ant between two mountains. She looks at Soap across the table. He was in the middle of a conversation with her two friends, shooting a glance her way ever so often.

Her friends finish off their drinks, drunkenly giggling with Soap as he makes endless flirtatious jokes and dirty innuendos.

“Well birthday girl…” Sophia starts, gathering her purse and phone, scooting to the end of the booth as she gets up, presumably to leave her alone with all three men like a madwoman. “We’d love to stick around, but we’ve got an early start tomorrow.” Bal starts to get up also, scooting past Soap, she shoots them a look. A glare that could cut diamonds. There was no way she wouldn’t break down into an absolute nervous mess as the only woman under the three men’s gazes. Her anger turned into pleading, and she shot her friends a desperate look of help me before they giggled and rushed out of the bar. They knew what they were doing. Her mouth hung agape as the three men ran their eyes all over her.

“And then there were four, aye?” Soap says, finishing the last of his drink.

**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**

“You want to…what?” She says, her mouth hanging open, her eyes shooting between the three men as she’s taken aback by their proposal. “All…three of you?” Her voice comes out barely a squeak. She looks down at her glass, her drink long gone. The glass was still sweating in the suddenly humid bar, the condensation moistening her fingers. Soap, Konig and Ghost look at each other, a smug, hungry look in their eyes. She suddenly felt much smaller, as if her lungs were shrunk to a point where they couldn’t take enough air to support her brain function. She couldn’t possibly deny them. She couldn’t. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. A dream of many women on the base. Soap was no giant, but the other two…she should be scared. But she wasn’t. She craved to know what they all felt like. What they all looked like under their rough military attire. How they would all fit on her Queen sized bed. She nudges Ghost beside her, wanting to stand up. He slid out of the booth and let her stand, staying stood beside her, looking down at her with a lust laced stare. His eyes ran up and down her body, starting from her eyes and trailing all the way down to the low heels she wore. Her gaze fell to the floor as she cleared her throat before speaking.

“We won’t be mad if you say no, dear.” König says before she could speak, his voice almost a whisper. He spoke to her as if she would break if he spoke to her. She looked at him with grace, the thoughts running through her head anything but. She clears her throat again. The thought of denying them seemed to be a bigger sin than what she was agreeing to.

“Um…sure. We can do that” she says, nodding her head. She let out her statement as if the opportunity would slip through her fingers, as if it would expire any moment. She smiles at them as they look among themselves, smug in their eyes.

**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**

The cab ride to her apartment was going to be nothing short of awkward, her squishing herself between three gigantic soldiers, two of them masked. The driver asked no questions and nervously drove off from the bar. The ride was filled with a certain bloated tension that could have surely spilled over at the slightest of movements. She sat tensely between König and Soap, the three of them barely fitting in the back seat. The scot placed his hand on her left knee, nonchalantly moving it further and further up under her skirt. König looked at them through his sniper hood, doing the same to her right knee. They looked at her like hawks to prey as she felt her panties moisten with anticipation. Soap was the first to reach the hem of her panties, slipping a finger through them. She jumped slightly at the sudden contact. He moved his finger deeper into her panties, reaching her weeping hole. He leaned down and whispered into her neck.

“Tsk tsk, so ready for me aren’t ‘ya?” His warm accented breath caressed her skin, sending signals to her brain for her to spread her legs right then and there. She bites her bottom lip, unable to part them in fear of the most ungodly of noises escaping them. Without warning, he enters a thick finger right into her. She gasps quietly, glancing at the driver and praying that he hadn’t heard. She was sure he knew something was up back there, but with the ecstasy Soap’s finger was causing to run through her every blood cell, she couldn’t bring herself to care. He pumps his finger in and out of her, curling it ever so slightly and grazing the one spot that would bring her to her orgasm. She looks up at him, her eyes lidded and tears brimming her eyelids. He was driving her insane, simply by the curve of a thick digit. She can see the slight smirk on his lips, his smugness driving her crazy as he drags his finger out of her abruptly. She let out a quiet whimper, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. Her head whips around to look at König, who’s hand had hovered by the hem of her panties as Soap did his thing to her. She can see his eyes squint, signaling that he was smiling.

She parts her legs the slightest bit, the only bit that she could while being sandwiched between the two men. He wastes no time in slipping a finger into her panties, taking a slight pause when he notices just how wet she really was. He glanced up at Soap, an amused look in his eyes. His fingers were much larger than Soap’s, evident by the way he slightly struggled to get his hand in her panties. He withdraws, then pulls out the smallest of pocket knives. Her eyes widen at the glistening blade, looking at the driver to make sure he hadn’t noticed the weapon. He reaches down between her legs, a nervous look written on her face. She stares at him, absolutely oblivious to what he’s about to do. She hears the noise of fabric ripping, and a gust of cold air hit her clit as she realizes. He had just expertly sliced the crotch part of her panties right open. How he hadn’t cut her was beyond her. Her mouth remains open in awe as he puts the knife back into its respective spot in his belt. He stares at her in the eyes through the whole ordeal, a starved look in his green eyes. His hands travel back up her thighs as his finger rests in the spot she wouldn’t want anywhere else at the moment. He inserts a finger into her hole, still slick with juices and ready for him. His other hand palms his crotch secretively, and his eyes roll back into his head as he dips his head forward. He bottoms out his thick finger, long and muscular. She wondered if his fingers were this large, what he must be carrying between his thighs. She looks down at his crotch, the imprint of his half hard cock showing itself. She wanted nothing more than his pants off in that moment. He curled his finger, the length of it reaching more spots than Soap had managed to get to. He continuously flicked her swollen nub of nerves inside of her, causing her to buck her hips forward. Her movements caused the leather seat under her to squeak slightly. Soap places a hand on her knee, stilling her. She shakes from holding in her moans, which she was surprisingly able to do considering the giant finger pumping itself in and out of her and stimulating her plushy walls. König enters another finger inside of her, stretching her hole. She places a hand on his strong forearm, the thick ropes of muscles flexing as he continues fingering her pussy. She feels her juices run out of her and down her thigh as they pool under her ass. As he continues, she feels the familiar tightening of her core. She squeezes his arm tightly, looking up at his green eyes as she reaches her orgasm. He takes notice of her approaching climax and slows his pace, letting her ride it out slowly as she struggles not to buck her hips forward. Her breathing begins to get sporadic and hitched as the hot coil inside of her snaps, and a thousand pound wave of euphoric pleasure melts her brain in the backseat of the cab.

She starts to taste blood in her mouth from biting her lip, trying to stifle her moans and whimpers as best she can. König palms his dick at the sight of her, a heavy breath escaping his lips. He pulls his finger from out of her, sliding them up and coating her clit with her juices. She jumps slightly at the sudden touch to her sensitive bundle of nerves as he flicks it with his middle finger. Soap continues holding her down by the knee, a look of amusement in König’s eyes as he overstimulates her. He takes his hand from under her skirt, inspecting his fingers as they glisten with her juices. He raises his hand to his mask, slipping his hand under as she hears the sound of him putting his fingers in his mouth. She rests her head on the headrest behind her as she looks at him in awe. So he was a freak, under that stoic, mysterious aura he always gave off. She steadies her breathing, noticing how they were around the corner from her apartment. She looks past König at Ghost, his jeans uncomfortably tight in his crotch area as the imprint of his cock makes an appearance. She licks her lips at the sight, looking up to his eyes hungrily.

**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**

As she unlocks the door to her apartment, she feels the hungry gaze of all three men on her back. She felt as if she were turning her back to a starved pack of wolves, ready to pounce on her at any moment. She walks in first, turning to meet their gazes. Ghost walks in first, followed by König and Soap. She smiles at them nervously as they look around her apartment, taking at her decor. She bends down to take her heels off, suddenly feeling a strong hand on her hip. She freezes in place as a gruff voice caresses her ear.

“Sit on the couch, love” Ghost says gently. She walks to the couch in her living room, her heel strap half undone. She sits down as Ghost approaches her slowly, the soft fabric of the couch caressing her thighs. He gets down on one knee in front of her, and takes her ankle in his hand. Her ankle fit snugly into his hand, his large fingers wrapping around it. König and Soap watch as he begins undoing her heel straps, his fingers grazing her skin and leaving a hot trail of fire in its wake. He looks up at her, and back down. His eyes travel to underneath her skirt, chuckling to himself at the mess that König made with her panties.

Once he gets both heels off, he runs his warm hands up her legs and to her hips when he lifts her right off the couch as if she weighed nothing. He walked through the small hallway as she straddled him, her legs wrapped around his jeaned hips. The rough material of his jacket rubbed against her clit slightly, causing her to let out a starved moan.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you, lovie” he says in her ear, his eyes lidded with hunger through his balaclava.

She looks over his shoulder at Soap and König as they follow him to her bedroom. She smiles at them as they strut through her apartment, their large stature making it feel tiny. As they reach her bedroom, she looks Ghost in his eyes, darkened with lust as he swings the door open. Once he sees the bed, he wastes no time in throwing her on it.

The way they don’t speak definitely intimidated her. She knew she was in for it when they all stood in a line, staring down at her on the bed. All three men begin undressing, starting with their jackets.

She gulps before breaking the silence. “So…who’s first?” She says, her voice shaky with anticipation. They all glance at her, a smirk written on Soap’s face. He chuckles.

“Who said anything about taking turns, lass?” He asks nonchalantly as he pulls his shirt over his head. She looked at his body, his prominent abs jutting from his skin. His abdominal muscles flex and the light pink scars move as he throws his shirt on the carpeted floor. He unbuckles his jeans, sliding them down at the same time as his boxers. His cock jumps forward, twitching to attention. He wasn’t too long, but his shaft was surely thick and veins protruded from the soft skin. He approaches her first, sitting on the bed next to her and placing a hand on her thigh as the heat from his hard dick radiated onto her leg. He leans over and lightly kisses her neck, seemingly holding back the passion and hunger that’s rubbing through his veins. He runs his tongue over the soft skin on her neck as his hands run up and down her belly. She moans aloud as he leaves small love bites on her. Hearing the continued shuffling noises of the other two men undressing, she looks over to König as he begins pulling his sniper hood off. She stares at him in awe as he reveals his face to her for the first time. He was simply gorgeous. He had strong centric European features, his nose large with a sharp bump on the bridge, and plush pink lips that parted once she made eye contact with him. He had dirty blonde stubble littering his strong jaw.

“You’re…so handsome, König” she says in awe, the words barely coming out as a squeak. He smiles at her, his charmingly crooked teeth making an appearance. He was perfect. She wanted him inside of her immediately. But impatience would get her nowhere in this situation. Soap bites her neck harder, seemingly out of jealousy. She jumps and smiles as he does this, noticing the knowing look on his face.

“No favorites, lovie” Soap says, softly licking to soothe the spot he bit harshly.

“Thank you, Liebling.” König says gently, his German caressing her ears and shooting right down into her core. He continues undressing, kicking his cargo pants off and kicking them to the side. He pulls his underwear down next, his cock springing up and letting out a quiet smack as it bounces off his stomach. He was huge. She was no virgin, but the sheer size of it made her shudder. It was long and thick, matching the gigantic size of the rest of him. She looked at it nervously as he began stepping forward.

“Don’t be nervous, dear. I’ll be gentle with you” he says softly, crawling onto the bed in front of her. She smiles at him in response. He lies on her right, with Soap on her left.

As Soap continues his work on her neck, she looks past him at Ghost, now naked as well. His cock seemed to be the perfect size. He was big, just like him, but he wasn’t packing a monster like König. He grabs his shaft, slowly stroking it as he walks forward. He lets out a grunt as he crawls on the bed, taking the only spot left being in front of her. With all three men now laying before her naked, her heart pounded in her ears in nervousness. König gets to work on her shirt, lifting it over her head, leaving her in her bra and skirt. He palms her right breast, running a thumb over her tender nipple through the padded fabric of her bra. He lets out a low chuckle at the sight of it.

“Sit up for me, Liebling” he says, a smile lacing his voice. She looked at Soap as she sits up, her neck still moist with his saliva. König begins to fiddle with her bra strap, one of the hooks resisting. He grunts as he continues to fiddle with it. All of a sudden she hears a loud rip as her bra falls down to her thighs. She looks at him as he smiles at her nonchalantly.

“I will have no panties or bras to wear if you keep this up, König” she says, giggling at his short temper.

“Good, I like you better that way, dear.” he says in her ear, gently pushing her chest down so she can lie on her back. He wastes no time in going for her nipple, wrapping his lips around them and flicking the bud with his tongue. She moans, holding his head in place. Soap does the same as König, sucking and biting at her other nipple. The double stimulation was driving her crazy, it was enough to pull an orgasm out of her right then. She bucked her hips into the air as she looked over both of their heads at Ghost. He was naked all except his balaclava. She knew he wanted to conceal his identity, so she didn’t press the matter. And with both men sucking and biting at her nipples, she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. It was a discussion for another time. She knew she was soaked, she could feel her slick practically dripping down her thighs. Ghost looks down at her as he moves his hand from his cock to her thighs, running them up and down her skin and landing on her hips. He wraps his fingers in the waistline of her skirt, pulling it down roughly. She lifted her hips to assist him in getting her naked, parting her legs as soon as it was pulled off. He threw it to the floor, looking at her exposed pussy with nothing short of starvation.

“I don’t think you know how long I’ve waited for this, lovie” he says, leaning down on his stomach and positioning his head between her legs. He pulls his balaclava over his mouth, resting it on the bridge of his nose, exposing his dark stubbled jaw. He wraps his arms under her thighs, holding her in place. He reaches around her thigh and thumbs her clit, the sudden contact making her buck her hips forward. The three of them stimulated her all at once, making her brain dizzy with pleasure. She cries out as he circles her clit.

“God damn, look how wet you are baby.” He says, his voice low, coming out much like a growl. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He continues, his breath caressing her heat. Ghost dips his head forward as he replaces his thumb with his tongue, running a stripe along her entire slit. She cries out in pleasure, her moans ringing off the walls. She slides her hips forward, burying her clit in his face.

“I love the way you sing for us, lass.” Soap praises against her breast. She rolls her eyes back, unable to focus on anything as all three men work on her simultaneously. Ghost continues eating her out, sucking and flicking his tongue over her clit as König raises his head from her breast. He pinches her nipples as he leans down to her face.

“You’re doing so well for us, Liebling.” He whispers, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. “T-thank you, König” she whimpers. He closes the gap between them, kissing her with a hunger she can only describe as ravenous. He takes her bottom lip in his, biting at it gently. She moans into his mouth as they make out. His stubble scratches roughly against her mouth, resulting in her lips to swell and plump. He continues palming at her breast, caressing her body as he kisses her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to chose favorites, but she loved how he was the gentlest with her, caressing her and putting her pleasure first. She feels a finger on her chin, turning her head to her left. Soap turns her face towards him, kissing her swollen lips. She swirls at the mix of smells, both men’s musk filling her nostrils and settling on her breath. He continues kissing her hungrily, caressing her cheek roughly. He moans into her mouth and stroked himself beside her. She reaches next to her, König’s cock not hard to find. She takes it in her hand, the thick shaft hard as a rock in her small hand. She takes the head in her hand first, thumbing his slit and smearing his precum over it. He lets out a pitched moan, close to a whimper. She smiles at his noises, his moans driving her over the edge. She feels the familiar tightening in her core. König caresses her breast as she continues stroking his thick shaft, all while kissing Soap and practically riding Ghost’s face from under him. He pulls away as he feels her tense around his tongue, parting with a kiss on her sensitive clit.

“Not just yet, baby. Can’t have ‘ya tappin’ out on us can we?” He says nonchalantly, standing up on his knees. She whimpers as he stands.

“P-please, Simon.” She breaks the kiss with Soap as she pleads, the desperation practically leaking off her tongue. The use of his government name was a means to beg him into continuing. He shakes his head hearing her call him by his name, smiling at her smugly. He pulls his balaclava down over his mouth as he leans forward, placing a finger on her chin and pulling her face forward.

“Oi, don’t you dare try and entice me ‘ya little minx. Be patient like a good little puppy, right lads?” He says. The two men on either side of her nod their heads, and let out a string of mhms. König continues moaning and grunting as she strokes him messily. He places his hand over hers, guiding her and noticing her becoming undone more and more by the minute. She looks back up to Ghost, who begins lining himself up with her pussy. He holds her legs apart as he slides his tip up and down her slit, coating it in her slick. She moans, looking back at König as he watches her face contort with pleasure. He watches her with such admiration, such devotion that her brain screamed at her to jump his cock first. She stared at him with nervousness as Ghost begins pushing his tip inside of her, letting out s groan as he does so. She bucks her hips forward, feeling him falter as he stretches her hole.

“So fucking…tight” he says breathlessly, pushing into her. She feels the pressure build up in her core, electric waves of pleasure shooting through her spine as he connects himself to her walls. In no time he bottoms out, his balls laid against her ass. He begins thrusting in and out of her, his grip on her thigh becoming rougher and rougher with each thrust. She lets out a loud moan, close to a yell. König continues sucking and biting her nipples, leaving hickies all along her breast. Soap leans over to her face, kissing her again as Ghost continues fucking her senseless. Their hips slap together lewdly as he fucks her, his dick hitting her swollen bundle of nerves inside of her. He moans and grunts aloud, his gruff voice music to her ears.

“Fuck, lovie. You feel so good. So…inviting.” He says, lifting her leg and throwing it over his shoulder. The new position would allow for him to reach her deepest spots, the part of her walls no man had ever ventured before. She cries out as he hits her cervix repeatedly, the pain turning into instant pleasure as he opens her up and sexes her most sensitive spots. He grunts loudly and squeezes her foot next to his head. He continues pumping in and out of her, throwing out praises and slurred words. His thrusts falter as he slows down, gently lowering her leg off his shoulder. “I won’t last long if I keep that up, sweetheart.” He chuckles, slowly pulling out of her. “On your knees, baby.”

She takes a second, catching her breath before sitting up. König and Soap move over slightly as she gets on her hands and knees. Ghost wastes no time in pushing his fat cock into her again, hitting her deepest, sensitive spots in this position. She cries out as he grabs the fat of her ass, landing a few rough spanks to the soft, plushy skin. They were surely going to be bruised the next day, not that she would mind. He curses out as she backs her hips onto him, allowing his dick to go even deeper, if even possible. “Such a good little puppy. Listenin’ so well.” She looks up at Soap and König as they watch her get railed and praised by the masked man behind her.

“Tsk tsk, we’ve oughta put your other hole to use, right König?” Soap says, grabbing her by the chin as he strokes his cock to the sight of her getting fucked stupid. König grunts in response, his hand replaced hers as he also strokes himself, unbelievably aroused by the sight of her thoughts being fucked right out of her head. She smiles to the two men as she understands what he’s insinuating. She opens her mouth wide, tongue hanging out like the puppy Ghost praised her so well to be. Soap shuffles towards her face, his thick cock in hand. She takes his head between his lips, feeling how swollen and plump it was with arousal. He moans breathlessly as he bucks his hips forward, gently fucking her mouth. She teases him by licking the precum off of his slit, and licking her lips, coating her lips with his juice. He bites his lip at the sight of her, roughly grabbing her hair from the back of her head.

“Such a dirty lass. Who knew?” He says breathlessly, shoving half of his dick in her mouth. She hollows out her cheeks as she takes him, bobbing her head forward. As Ghost fucks her from behind, she involuntary takes him deeper in her mouth with each thrust. In no time his tip grazed the back of her throat, causing her to gag and tear up as he groans and grunts. He begins fucking her face ruthlessly, the hunger getting the best of him. She gags as tears brim her eyes, tears and drool spilling over onto the bed below her.

“Look at ‘ya. Dirty, drooling little puppy. This’ll stick in my head for a while” he chuckles, tightening his grip on her hair.

He continues thrusting his cock deep into her mouth as Ghost goes feral on her pussy. He continues spanking her, praising her as she tries to pleasure both men simultaneously. Soap slows his thrusts, dragging them out. He pushes into her mouth until his pubic hair brushes her nose, and pulls out almost all the way, properly slutting out her mouth. She feels weight shift beside her as König lies beside her. He reaches below her, his middle finger rubbing her wet clit as Ghost continues pumping into her. Unable to look at him, she moans on Soap’s shaft. He grunts at the added stimulation, her moans vibrating the nerves on the head of his cock. As König circles her clit, she feels a hot wave of pleasure grow inside of her. She feels as if she’s about to simply implode, clenching tightly around Ghost. He slows his pace, unable to fuck her as angrily when she was clenched so tightly around him. His cock met resistance, causing him to moan loudly as he leans over her, hands still tightly gripping her ass and hips. She cries out, muffled by the thick dick in her throat as a stream of her juices spray out under her, pooling in König’s hand. He chuckles, bringing his hand from under her gently.

“Little Liebling, you’ve made such a mess, hm?” He purrs in her ear, standing on his knees. Her thighs shake and tremble, threatening to buckle as her body weakens. König made her squirt, which she was sure was a group effort, but it stunned her nonetheless. Soap lessens his grip on her head, letting her up for air. She looks towards König at he stares down at his hand covered in her squirt. He stares her in the eyes lustfully, bringing his hand to his thick cock. He uses her juices to wet his shaft, moaning and grunting as he jerks himself with her slick. She stares at him in awe, as he lies back down and begins circling her clit once more with his free hand. The sight alome was enough to drive her over the edge. She feels her knees buckling under her once more as he pleasures her sensitive bud again, resulting in Ghost grabbing her hips to keep her up.

Ghost’s thrusts falter once again, this time he stops completely. She whimpers onto Soap’s shaft in need, bucking her hips backwards for more. Ghost chuckles. Behind her as she whines. He pulls out of her as he leans downward, whispering in her ear. “You’ve brought me to the edge, lovie. Can’t cum just yet. ‘M not done with ‘ya.” He growls, his gruff voice distracting her from Soap. He leans back up, giving her a last smack on her ass as he motions Soap behind her. They switch spots, Ghost now on her right, Soap lining himself up with her entrance, and König still below her, fingering her clit. He looks at her in awe as the two men switch themselves, using both her holes as he focuses on her pleasure. She puts him on a pedestal for this, metaphorically wanting to save him for last. She smiles at him, her eyes lidded with tiredness. He smiles back at her, his charming crooked teeth flashing at her. Her heart melts at him, but their moment is cut short when Soap shoves himself into her.

“God, lass. So tight. Even after you’ve taken such a big cock in ‘ya?” He says breathlessly. He grunts as he bottoms out inside of her. She cries out, the double stimulation from him fucking her to the hilt and König’s thick fingers caressing her clit from under her, not to mention the stinging pain on her ass cheeks from Ghost’s ruthless spanking.

“Wait, Soap. Let her get on her back.” König says gently, placing a hand on her hip as he helps her onto her back. She’s now face to face with Ghost and König. Soap places a hand on her thigh, lifting her leg onto his shoulder as slaps his heavy cock onto her clit before entering her. He grunts as he pushes into her, wasting no time in fucking her senseless. He slams into her, resulting in her yelling out as a sharp, pleasure laced moan bounced off the wall. Ghost takes König’s place at her clit as he uses a thick finger to circle her bud, slowly jerking himself in the process. He dips his head forward and lifts his balaclava, and begins working at her nipples, sucking and biting them roughly.

König sits up impatiently, his thick cock hovering over her face. He looks down at her in awe, his eyes squinted and breathing hitched in excitement. He places a hand on her bed frame as he lowers himself onto her face, the tip of his dick entering between her lips. She moans at the double use of her holes, eagerly widening her mouth. His cock only makes it a bit past halfway before she hits her limit, gagging and choking on him. He pulls out slightly, looking at her with concern in his eyes. His grip tightens on the headboard, hitting the back of her throat ever so slightly. She melted at his gentleness, but she wanted nothing more than to take all of him. Or at least try. She lifts her head, hollowing her cheeks and breathing out as she takes him as deep as she can, she can smell the musk of his pubic hair as she gets deeper than she had before. König lets out a gentle moan as she sucks him, deepthroating him and feeling the bulge of his cock protruding from her throat. She takes her hand and grabs the remainder of him, gripping his base and squeezing as she continues taking him in deep. Soap leans forward and pushes her stomach down, releasing a new feeling she’s never felt before. She felt closer to him internally, taking every single inch of him as he moans at the new feeling too.

“Fuck, lady. You’re just perfect. Look at ‘ya, taking every damn inch of me like a good little puppy.” He purrs, his Scottish accent stronger as he pumps himself in and out of her, slowly dragging each thrust out. She smiles at him, baring her teeth from around König’s cock. He starts to move his hips slightly, seemingly not wanting to hurt her or choke her to death. He smiles at her as she nods her head at him, signaling that he was good to start thrusting. He takes her silent confirmation, and starts pumping in and out of her mouth. She gags and gurgles, the lewd noises bouncing off the walls. The sound of her choking on his absolute monster cock drives her crazy, it was music to her ears. He continues fucking her mouth as she moans over the tip of his shaft, the vibrations of her voice driving König closer to the edge by the minute. Soap's thrusts begin to get sloppy, signaling that he was close to his climax. His grip on her leg tightens as it hangs over his shoulder. His muscles glisten with sweat. He grunts as his pumps get slower. She feels his cock twitch and pulse, as he lets out a string of curses and moans into her leg. He pulls out of her before he can paint her walls white with his cum, and jerks himself, aiming at her stomach. Ghost watches from her breasts as he shoots his seed onto her stomach, grunting with every pulse of his shaft. He steps back, admiring his work like a painter admires his freshly finished canvas. He breathes heavily, walking into her bathroom and emerges with a bundle of tissues. König then pulls out of her mouth slowly, letting go of her headboard with a creak. He reaches down and runs a thumb over her tear stained cheeks.

“You did so good, lass. So good for me.” He says as he wipes her stomach of his seed. König gets up and walks towards Soap as she watches them tiredly, her holes fatigued and swollen from the constant use. Ghost lifts his head from her breast, her nipples now sore and overstimulated from being sucked and bitten through it all. He gently slaps her breast, causing it to jiggle and making him chuckle lowly.

“Such perfect little mounds, lovie” he says, caressing her neck. She smiles at him, leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips before he can pull his balaclava back down. He pauses for a moment and his mouth hangs agape, a smile growing on his lips before he pulls it down over his mouth.

König places himself in front of her, offering his hand. She takes it as he helps her stand. Her legs like jello, her thighs shake and falter as she holds onto his strong shoulders. “My poor little liebe, so tired and fucked out, yes?” He purrs, bringing her into an embrace. Ghost and Soap watch as he sits on the bed, crawling toward the headboard. He places his back onto the headboard and effortlessly lifts her onto his lap, spreading her legs over his knees. He slides his hands up and down her thighs, parting them while kissing her neck and nibbling at her earlobes. Her body shivered as he did this, his gentle caresses feeling like sparks on her skin after the roughness of the other two men. “I’d love to ruin you tonight, liebling. But you’ve have enough of that, hm?” He purrs. She nods her head, her brain swirling in her skull and preventing any words from leaving her. She lies her back onto his chest as he positioned his cock in front of her clit. He slides his head up and down her slit, coating him in her juices. He slaps his tick, heavy shaft against her entrance before pushing the tip in, waves of electricity flowing through her veins. She moans at the thickness of him, throwing her head back onto his chest. He kisses her forehead, grunting as he pushes himself deeper inside of her, his cock only halfway inside before he hits her tightest spot, unseen by any man. He pushes into her slowly, forcing the rest of his thickness into her walls. Tears brim her eyes as she moans and cries out, a toxic mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through her. Ghost reaches forward and slowly circles her clit, trying to keep her from clenching too much. The room was silent besides König’s hushes and sweet praises in her ear, the other two men seemingly feeling sorry for her. She had never had any man this big before, but there was a first for everything. The stimulation from Ghost fingering her clit allows König to enter into her deeper. In no time he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside her, all the way to the hilt. Soap approaches her to her right, kissing her stomach and leaving love bites all the way to her breasts. She would look like she had been through a war the next day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He begins suckling and biting at her nipples once again, flicking his tongue over the sensitive buds.

“Scheiße, du bist so eng, Liebe” he praises. She hadn't any idea what he said, but the way he spoke to her made her insane. “Hm?” She replied, the only word she had managed to squeak out since being ruthlessly fucked by the two other men. König lets out a deep chuckle at her cluelessness.

“I said you’re so tight, dear. So warm. So inviting for me.” He breathes out. He begins thrusting inside of her, slowly at first. He grunts and moans in her ear, his grip on her thighs tightening with restraint as he tries his hardest not to fuck the thoughts right out of her brain at any given moment. He begins thrusting faster, pumping himself in and out of her. She moans and cries out, going absolutely dumb on his dick as he fucks her at a steady pace. She reaches her hands behind her, running her fingers through his dirty blonde hair, it being soft in between her fingers. She lets out a string of curses as she feels her core tightening. She clenches around him, her grip tightening in his hair. He dips his head forwards as he lets out a string of German expletives and grunts, thrusting his hips up into her. He speeds up his pace, feeling as she tightens around him. His cock met with resistance as she comes close to her edge.

“Are you going to cum for me, love?” He whispers in her ear. She nods her head sporadically, unable to focus on anything but the thick, hot cock sliding in and out of her. “Mhmm. ‘M gonna cummm” she manages to squeak out. He chuckles in her hair, the gruff voice caressing her ears. “Cum for me, my sweet liebling. I want your juices all over my cock and balls, hm?”. He praises, giving her a small slap on the stomach. She rolls her hips, in sync with Ghost’s finger flicking her clit and Soap periodically nibbling at her nipples. König thrusts into her g-spot faster and harder, his own moans and cries hot on her ears. She feels the familiar tightening of her core, and warmth pooling at her clit as another spray of her juices spew out onto the bed. The mixture of her moans and his grunts make for a porn worthy scene as her squirt runs down her pussy and onto his balls. Her thighs shake with pleasure, her body now completely spent from orgasming. König chuckles as her legs shake violently. Ghost moves his hands from her clit, chuckling as he licks her juices off of his fingers.

“You’re like a sprinkler, love” Ghost chuckles, his fingers glistening with her slick. She smiles at him as he stands, his cock ready and twitching with need. He hadn’t finished fucking her in hopes that he’d be the one to breed her. But the way he saw her going stupid on König’s cock meant that he’d have to make do with her delicious mouth for now. He leans forward, grabbing her head gently by the hair and guiding her lips to his shaft. He moans as she takes him in her mouth, bobbing her head the best she can while König fucks her. He’s now drilling into her, cursing and whimpering aloud shamelessly. Ghost begins to thrust into her mouth, unapologetically starved from being cut short earlier. She relaxes her jaw muscles and allows him to fuck her face ruthlessly. She gags and chokes on him, droll dripping down her chin and onto her breasts as she bounces from König’s fucking. She moans onto his dick, riling him up more. He slides his cock deep into her throat, bottoming out until her nose is buried in his pubic hair.

“Fuckkk, lovie. I can see my cock bulging from your throat. God…damn.” He praises, his voice shaky from the fast thrusts. He pumps into her mouth at a steady pace as he grabs her throat and squeezes around his bulge smugly. He chuckles at the sight, loving the look of her bouncing on König’s dick as he uses her mouth as he pleases. “Good fucking girl. Taking my cock like the slutty puppy you are.” He says, landing a gentle smack on her cheek. He squeezes her throat again, making her gasp for air. He pulls out completely, letting her breathe before shoving himself as deep as can go again. He does this for a minute, pulling out and shoving himself back in, tiring her throat out. She was a drooling, crying mess, and he wouldn’t have her any other way. He feels the familiar tightening in his balls, his dick tensing with every thrust bringing him closer to the edge. He fucks her face a few more times before he lets himself fall. He moans loudly and lets out a powerful grunt as he paints her throat white with thick, hot ropes of cum. She feels the warmth of his seed travel down her throat, her eyes rolling back in her head as he keeps his cock down for a few seconds too long. His grip on her throat loosened, and he slowly pulled out from the walls of her windpipe, slick with her saliva and his cum. “Jesus.” He exclaims, out of breath from emptying his balls into her throat. “You’ve milked me dry, sweetheart.” He says, plopping himself onto the bed next to her. He reaches over and caresses her stomach as König continues drilling into her from underneath her.

König’s thrusts become sloppier, his cock starting to twitch inside of her. She notices his body tensing under her as he reaches his orgasm. “Scheiße, Scheiße!” He yells out. He roughly grabs her by the throat, squeezing her windpipe and causing her face to turn a deep red as she throws her head back. He buries his face in her neck, his face now a deep shade of red as he sweats and his muscles flex under her. His thrusts become slower, staying inside of her for a second longer before pushing into her again. He groans and whimpers in her ear, the gigantic killing machine of a man seemingly coming undone by the mere tightness of her pussy. “Such a sweet…tight fucking…cunt…Scheiße!” He continues, his cock twitching violently inside of her as he breeds her. She feels his hot seed filling her, slowly dripping down her walls as he pulls out of her, the tip swollen and sensitive. “God…you took me so well, my little liebe. So well.” He breathes, his breath hot on her cheek. He presses his forehead to hers, planting a soft kiss to her lips. He lingers on her mouth for a minute, catching his breath. They breathe heavily into each others mouths, eyes dancing between each others.

“So much for no favorites, aye L.t?” Soap says smugly, standing to his feet and slowly walking to his pile of clothes in front of her bed. She smiles at him, her brain still spent and thoughtless from the three cocks whose only intention was to ruin her. Ghost chuckles as he stands, grabbing his underwear and sliding them over his hips before lying back in bed next to her. König doesn’t bother getting up, and simply moves her next to him. She lied between the two giant men, her eyes fluttering closed as König and Ghost untucks the blanket from under her and placing it over her. She opens her eyes and looks over to Soap, standing at the edge of her bed in only his underwear. He crawls towards her and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll be taking your couch, lass. No space on here for poor old Soap!” He jokes, winking at her before leaving to the living room. Ghost reaches besides him and flicks the switch to the lamp besides them, engulfing the room in darkness. The only light from the yellow hued street lamps outside. König shuffles behind her, spooning her with his naked frame. He kisses her on the back of her neck, rubbing her back gently with his large hand. “Goodnight, dear. I’ve had the best time with you tonight” he says, his voice barely a whisper. She smiles as she backs up into his embrace in response to his soft praises. Ghost runs a thumb over her cheek as he lies on his back, and puts her hand in his. “Sleep well, love. You did great.” He purrs. In no time, the sweet embrace of sleep blanketed her senses.

**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**

She wakes to an empty bed, the smell of sex still permeating the room. She checked her clock on the nightstand. 12:42 PM, it read. She’d be screwed if she had work today, but her body had taken the rest it needed from being absolutely ruined by three giant soldiers last night. She smiled to herself, wishing to herself it hadn’t been a dream. She glanced at the hickies on her body, and noticed the soreness between her legs. She sat up, scanning her room. Her eyes caught a flash of a pink gift bag on the other side of her bed. She smiled as she took the bag in her hands. She took out the contents, a red hot blush spreading to her ears. The lacy bra and panty set sat softly in her fingers. She looked in the bag and saw a card, opening it to reveal the sloppiest handwriting she’d ever seen.

Forgive me for ripping your panties and bra, dear. Enjoy. -König

She knew she wasn’t supposed to chose favorites, but hell.

[maddragon15]

Obscenely late hermitaday day #23 & 25! - Impulse & Tango

Was this meant to be a simple cel shaded drawing on the 30th? Yeah, yeah it was lmao but somehow the power of fire excels at overtaking the rendering capabilities.

But since it's late I'll use this as excuse to ramble below about well, the headcanons and the process down yonder. Also there's variations.

(Also just realized that the compression is high with this one, please click on it to see the details pretty pleasee)

So! Let's talk about that haircut shall we? First off Tango's haircut is basically just me slapping my very neglected oc's haircut onto him lol. There's no function usage or any other lore about it, literally just I wanted to use that haircut more. But Miners and Crafters that's not all! The intensity of the flame actually has meaning believe it or not.

Since Tango in the headcanons is already a nether born blaze hybrid the redstone kinda didn't have an effect on him. This is because blazes produce glowstone which is a power source onto itself. He gets minor effects instead which is a mild (there's literally no other word) high, a intensified hair flame and a brighter eye night shine. Negative effects include mild joint & jaw pain, and a small localized headache behind the left eye.

I like to imagine that other blaze hybrids' hair flame aren't normally that intense, not white-hot heat but rather more red n orange hot similar to the flats. Mainly due to the fact that glowstone is not as powerful as redstone and it's also dependent on how strong a blaze is. Now imagine with me that blazes determine how strong each other are via the color they're emitting. Now remember the blaze boss Minecraft had a vote on to add or not to add? What if Tango is constantly mistaken as a high ranking blaze because of how intense his fire is and he doesn't get attacked a whole lot except for the few that want to challenge him. Meanwhile Tango is just highly infused with redstone like all the other redstoners and he doesn't know what's happening half time as seen by his terrified scream-laughs /hj

He's also semi modified with redstone for the pure purpose of comms just like the other redstoners minus mumbo. I also would've leaned into the steampunk aspect of this season but I figured I'd do a character sheet like etho for all of the redstoners and finalize the aspects on those.

Onto Impulse!

I like to imagine that Impulse was a regular human and over the course of redstone exposure he gained pointed ears and horns. For what reasons? I have no idea but redstone works in mysterious ways and mutates on whatever happens to be in their system. You may see that he has purple lines across his face but then red pupils, why is that? Well since he's cyperpunk themed this season he modified his redstone implants to be rgb. He can change everything else except his pupils because those are deeply affected by redstone and would require surgery to remove the build up of redstone. Will any of the redstoners ever actually get rid of it? No but you can beg all day.

You also might be wondering what's happening in their ears? Well those are the advanced comms that are actually used across all hermits except the ones who've opted out for glowstone variants. They kinda work like bluetooth except more hermit-magic way. I haven't had time to fully think of how it'd work down to the circuitry (that's my usual process for headcanons before I ship them out) but I'll post about it when I think of the full layout. Other design aspects on impulse are derived from his skin and the poster design by applestruda!

Process wise for this piece was kinda a rollercoaster heh. I had started this piece a while ago (can't remember the day on the dot) and then I got insanely busy during the last week of hermitaday. I had done sketch, refined sketch and flats in two days. Then events proceeded forth and we arrive on the 4th which I tried for an entire day to figure out how to render this piece. I then gave up and tried again the day after and pulled up references this round on Pinterest. Tango was surprisingly easy to paint with ref and went rather fast. I will admit the entire time I was rendering him I did say every minute or so "I love you man" because he was turning out so good. Halfway through I then realized I still had to render Impulse. That's when I pretty much ended that night because it was already 5 am working on Tango and demotivation was setting in fast. The next day I was able to continue with hesitancy on Impulse but I managed to keep on keeping on and in the early hours of today I finished up the piece. Where I'm now writing about it close to 2 pm in a restaurant. Man though it was kinda hard to make Impulse and Tango look like cohesive and as if they were painted together.

Enjoy!

(Side note I applied for inprint and if I am to be accepted this will be available along side the three different eefs I've drawn and doc.)

[rottenomelet]

yandere jjk thoughts

warning:: nsfw! i’m eighteen and you should be too! hints of kidnapping, non-con, and coercion. nothing is ever really explicitly stated but - still.

a/n: there’s no real rhyme or reason behind this - winter is just my favorite time to snuggle up and read about crazy ppl. also i wrote this in lowercase originally so u see a spot i missed, no u didnt. u can leave requests for different characters if u wanna

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?” or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

But, beyond punishment, he is caring and quiet. He prefers it when you speak, likes it when you prattle on about your day or your favorite show. He likes it when you’re happy.

[ivvyela]

imagine with me, if you will, a nwh potential fix-it involving none other than the multiverse saving duo deadpool and wolverine.

i know, i know - but please, let me cook.

wade and logan now jump across timelines to "fix" things aka travel the multiverse for funsies and deal with the consequences later and somehow end up in a universe where peter parker doesn't exist, but spider-man does. and wade, blessed with the power of "i know this for the plot", immediately knows that is bull. shit. and sure enough, they find one very depressed, very lonely, and very jaded peter parker.

after much annoyance, light stalking, and following spider-man while he's on patrol, they get peter to spill how he ended up in this situation. and after hearing everything, logan breaks the silence with a simple, yet effective: "shit, kid. that... shit."

"yeah, well... now you know, so you can, like, leave me alone."

"nope, not gonna happen." wade shakes his head and tactfully ignores logan's imploring look of what-the-fuck-are-you-getting-us-into-now "i take my job as marvel jesus very, very seriously, so frankly, this is my job to fix your sorry little life, buddy. and if flat-out telling them you exist didn't work, then - "

"oh, i actually... i never told them."

"...come again?"

"i tried to tell them, but i couldn't. so..."

"i'm sorry... your best friend and girlfriend were crying, telling you to come find them and remind them of you, and you chose not to?"

"they're happy and safe without me! i wasn't going to ruin - "

"oh my god. you sweet, self sacrificial, idiot spider-baby. okay! we can fix this! we're no tony stark, but consider us your pseudo daddies for the time being, kid. let's get you your life back."

which is how one very emotional and determined deadpool, followed by a stoic, nonchalant wolverine (who, in all honesty, probably should be completely against this, but once wade commits to something, he can't be talked out of it, and the sooner he gets his fix from this the sooner he can go home, so fuck it we ball), end up in a certain cafe, all up in a poor barista and her friend's face with a cut-out yearbook photo of some kid, yelling "LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS BOY! HE'S SO LONELY! LIKE A SMALL, FORLORN, VICTORIAN CHILD! REMEMBER HIM, GODDAMMIT!"

(their efforts result in two confused and scared teens, and getting kicked out of said cafe.)

peter practically begs them to just leave him alone, that this was his choice, and he's fine with it, but both wade and logan know a lie when they hear one. they both know what being alone can do to a person, and peter is just a kid who got dealt the shittiest cards in life and at this point, it just feels wrong to leave him here without trying to do something. and maybe they both have a small soft spot for the teen, so what?

and peter knows both men can see through his broody, teenage angst front he's been putting up since the spell, and he's tried so hard to hate the two of them, get them to hate him so they would leave, but they're not budging, so really, there's no point in trying to push them away, right?

and so, he lets them in. he learns that while logan is stoic and intense and kinda terrifying, he's also someone who just wants to do the right thing for the people he cares about. he's also lost people, and he blames himself, but he's come out on the other side. he would tell peter about his daughter, laura, who wouldn't let him wallow in self pity because she is good, better than he has ever been. he never saw himself as a father, but she's still around, so he must be doing alright.

and at first hearing it would result in a pang in his chest, memories of thai food after walking into a smoke-filled kitchen, assurances that things will work out when everything feels hopeless, a tombstone that can never convey everything she was, but now... it's nice to hear that logan still had someone after losing everyone.

so, peter listens to logan's stories. in return, peter tells logan all about his mom.

and wade was brash and loud and conceded and really, really annoying, but he's... no, that's it. he's all of those things, but in a weird way, it's like all those bad qualities merge together to make him a good guy. and yeah, he can walk away at any point, he has absolutely no obligation to help peter, but he does it anyway.

("nonono, don't you dare make me some selfless hero type, kid. i know for a fact that every deadpool has a peter. i'm doing this for the me in your world."

"you're... huh?"

"bottom line, i'm a selfish bastard. i'm doing this for me, 'kay?")

peter didn't fight it. he's had experience with seemingly self-absorbed, deflecting type heroes.

wade doesn't replace him, not even close, but... still.

maybe peter will never get back what he lost. but, for the first time, peter sees a light at the end of the tunnel. that, maybe, he can stop being just spider-man, and he can start being peter parker again, too.

(and if there's a barista talking to her friend about how it's weird that two guys would show up holding a photo of an odd customer from weeks ago, demanding they remember him, and despite not knowing him she felt something, and her friend couldn't help but agree, well... that's neither here nor there.)

[brucewaynehater101]

Hello, I am the person from a few days ago that mentioned House MD. .y idea for it is very simple and very funny. Tim ends up in House's hospital with House as his doctor. He was found unconscious on the side of the road with 3 stab wounds, two broken ribs, and a broken leg.

Tim is Knocked Out and in Civilian Clothes with No Wallet. Which means No ID. They call him John Doe for now and move on to stitching him up and doing an xray of his chest so they can fix up his ribs and check for internal bleeding from the stabs. They are having some kind of debate about how the kid has clearly had his ribs shattered many, many times and how they healed when House suddenly stands up and says, "all of you are missing the forest for the tree. Ignore the ribs for a second before the kid dies." He then leaves the room to the confusion of all the assistants. It takes almost ten seconds for one of them to yell, "WHERES HIS SPLEEN"

Within an hour Tim has been put in one if their Anti Germ Bubbles for the Immuno Compromised. Oh the bright side he 100% has a room all to himself! Tim wakes up in the bubble, very confused with House looming over him. Tim is Baffled and says, "who send you? What info are you after?" And House just says, "im your doctor. What's your name so we can stop calling you John Doe The Spleenless Wonder."

Tim and House verbally joust almost constantly for Tim's entire stay and honestly? Most relaxed he's been in *years*. However it takes *days* for them to pry him name out of him and it's not even *from* him. Someone saw his face on a magazine in the grocery store check out and went "that's out John Doe!!" And when Tim tells them that he is Tim Drake he simply says, "I didn't tell you for a very simple reason. If word got out it was The Tim Drake in your hospital, which is outside Gothem, could you imagine the Paparazzi? And what would happen? I can garentee you at least one person would show up trying to kill me. Why do you think I was outside gothem beat up? Assassins, obviously." House's boss is terrified this guy is gunna sue them into the ground for how House has been jabbing at him constantly.

House simply asks why his bones look like Swiss Cheese and Tim simply raises an eyebrow at him and says, "I live in Gothem."

Later on after Tim gets released, he buys the entire hospital, becomes its new boss, goes to House's boss who actually runs the hospital and says, "I do not care about running this hospital. It's all up to you, I want No Power here. I am simply here to triple your budget, no quadruple it. And you remain completely in power on one condition. I want House to be my Primary Doctor. He's fun."

Oh and if you want some Angst, House asking if Tim wants to call someone to pick him up and Tim says, "oh, I have a tracker on me. Someone will show up to check me out once they notice I'm missing." House squinting at him and says, "you've been here two weeks. So I don't believe you." But Tim is telling the truth. His tracker has said he's been at an out of city hospital for weeks and no one really noticed he was even gone.

Fuck yeah. I've seen some clips of House and, despite the large amounts of medical malpractice they should be sued for, Tim would absolutely enjoy House's banter.

Also, I'd so live for House and Tim trying to trick each other. Tim realizes quickly that House doesn't believe a word about what Tim says about how he got his injuries. House keeps trying to pull one over on Tim so that Tim actually receives medical treatment (especially because Tim keeps going back out on field with injuries). It becomes a somewhat friendly game

Fair warning, I'm probably about to butcher House's character. Idk enough about him, but here's what I think. Tim would prefer House as his main doctor for two reasons:

How House cares

House isn't Batman/Bat affiliated

For the first point, House does care but not in the way most others do. I think Tim will eventually start telling House the truth about how he gets his injuries because of how House reacts. House isn't going to be overly sympathetic, pity Tim, or try to mother hen him. Tim will stroll up, say he's been held without food for a week and has 3 broken bones, and House will just banter with Tim.

If Tim's being an idiot (like not resting), House won't try to tell him off. He won't yell or undermine Tim. He'll just point blank tell Tim he deserves whatever injury he got for being an idiot while helping the vigilante treat it.

Tim will never admit to being a cape, but he eventually trusts House enough not to hide it.

Then there's House not being a Bat doctor. Leslie may or may not inform Bruce of any injuries Tim gets that Leslie deems is important for Bruce to know about. Alfred for sure won't hide that shit. Either way, whether founded or not, Tim can't trust those doctors to give away his information "for his own good."

House probably wouldn't go out of his way to inform Bruce (especially if we add on your angst angle).

Probably fucked up House's characterization, but let me know what ya think! Feel free to send another ask or reblog or whatever with changes ya think I need to add

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Best Friend! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 024 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, gaslighting(?), gore, body horror, BLOOD, yandere Jinwoo au ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Wherever you go, I'm always right there even if you try to hide ] ¡! ❞

"You're just imagining things" Jinwoo says, his nonchalant grey eyes glancing up at you. "You just don't sleep enough."

That's what he always says whenever you rant about the nagging feeling of several eyes watching you.

And you, being the stupid fool that you are— Believed his words.

Jinwoo is a smart and logical person, he's always able to make things just make sense.

So you never really questioned anything whenever he drops his opinion.

But of course, your instincts were never really wrong in the first place.

The itching terror crawling beneath your skin whenever you're alone, the weird chills tickling your spine when you walk in a dark place— It wasn't just your imagination.

The culprit?

He's staring right at right your face with those casual grey orbs.

Jinwoo has placed a bunch of shadows to trail you around, ten maybe 20,... Maybe. Who knows how many he has really placed?

Oh but one thing was for sure, there's at least two of his most powerful line of shadows safeguarding you.

Their duties were two simple orders: Make sure you are safe and sound and eliminate all forms of danger.

Eliminate All Forms Of Danger.

Sure, it could be just some bugs you're terrified of, or making sure you dont come across any dangerous plants along your way.

But their most important task was to murder anyone who tried too hard to come close.

Jinwoo was normally level-headed, he can take seeing you talking to someone else for at least 2 minutes, 5 when he's in a really good mood.

Past ten?

Hah.

'That fucker better start counting his hours' was the only thing ringing inside Jinwoo's head.

He was a jealous man, he'd be quiet but his gaze would grow darker. His ebony locks hovering over his steely gaze, his tongue pushing his inner cheek out as he tries to hold his temper, his foot tapping the floor impatiently as he counts the seconds the bastard went pass ten minutes.

78 seconds.

Jinwoo counted exactly 78 seconds when the conversation finished and your attention would return to him.

Immediately, that hard expression on him would go gentle.

He became quite the actor no thanks to you. jinwoo doesn't want you to have a peek of what he truly is as a person.

Though you were best friends, Jinwoo was a bit handsy with you. Just a bit.

His fingers lightly brushing against your fingers, your cheeks, mostly your ears actually.

Why?

Everyone reacts a certain way when their ear gets tickled.

And he reveled in the shudders and yelps you give him whenever he teases you.

The more you gave him your many expressions, the more and more he drowns in the black hole that is you.

Whatever you do, even the littlest things, his instincts would suddenly go haywire.

Mostly he wants to cherish you, pamper you, baby you like the adorable thing that you are.

Other times? Jinwoo wants to break you apart. Watch you sob, wrists bound, legs incapable of moving— He wanted to imprison you in the land of eternal death. Have you rot in his domain where he wouldn't worry about anyone or anything else breathing the same air as you other than him.

He wanted to love you and break you, and he knew that well. Jinwoo knew of his adoration and destructiveness when it comes to loving you.

You were really like a black hole, sucking him into the void and drowning him in a sea of emotions he never can quite understand.

Perhaps the system had really screwed him up in the head.

The pressure of being a monarch, of protecting this world, of being a vessel of war for several years— He had become twisted and completely paranoid to the point that he just wants control on everything.

And he wanted complete control of you too.

But he stopped himself, several times, he stopped himself.

Jinwoo tried to cut himself off of your life, to delete your memories of him.

But whenever he tried to he could never do it.

Everytime he did, he would just get frustrated and never finish the job.

The more he tries, the deeper he falls into the abyss that is you.

And now here he is,...

Alone in an alleyway, with the beating rain above his head, the water droplets gently dripping off of his black locks. His hand was bloodied as he held the head he had brutally ripped off of the bastard that dared to go pass the ten minute limit. The mangled corpse on the floor had organs spilling out with exactly 78 cuts on it's skin so deep it must have sliced the bone too.

And just like always, you're a witness to this hell.

Scream, cry, throw up— Whatever you do, you would just draw an amused smirk on Jinwoo's handsome features.

His lips would scrunch up on one side, his eyes glowing an ominous color of monarch violet as he lightly tips his head to one side. The stench of blood permeates through the air as the crimson liquid pooled and spread along with the puddles beneath your feet. Everything was now much more terrifying than what it was earlier

You wanted to run, you were afraid of whatever demon that is in front of you.

But Jinwoo wouldn't give you that chance, after all, he is suddenly in front of you— Right at your face.

His eyes were so out of it even though they are focused on yours.

The blood splatters on him was bone-chilling and sickening and yet somehow it made him more handsome.

Jinwoo is always wearing an empty and bored gaze, and yet somehow this psychotic side of him was alluring and dreamy.

Like a fragrant poison you knew would kill but attracted you even still.

"Sssh" Jinwoo purrs sweetly, cradling your face with one hand and then lightly kissing your lips for a short while. "I only did what I needed to do."

" You just listen to me like you always did and forget this ever happened like we've always done"

Forget? Forget how—

Suddenly, your body would go limp and he would catch you. An arm gently wrapped around your waist as he cradles your sleeping form.

Jinwoo would chuckle, pressing another light kiss on your lips,... then your forehead, your temple, your cheek, and once again your lips.

He held the kiss a little while longer.

He loved that expression on your face to be honest, how it scrunch up in terror and disgust. How you would pale oh-so immediately that he can't help but be giddy and want to kiss your pretty little face over and over— Smothering you like the lovely little thing you are.

He has done this so many times.

First, it was some people getting too close.

Second, it was your friends.

Third, these random people who would talk to you for more than ten minutes.

Time and time again, he would bloody his hands for selfish reasons.

Jinwoo wants to be the apple of your eye just as you are to him.

After all, he lovingly placed a legion of shadows in you so that he could watch you the second you are away from his physical body.

"God, I love you so much" He'd whisper, his lips against your hair as he inhales your scent in.

. . . . . . . . .

"Hey," Jinwoo casually greets you the next morning at school, your cute expression in a complete daze from having your memories wiped once again the night prior. "It's a long weekend after today, how about I take you out to dinner?"

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[febuary30thday]

Flora, Fauna

Okay, but I'm imagining a demon reader, who uses chlorokinesis as her BDA. But the catch is that she seems so comforting and warm with no ill intention until it's too late.

She is the New Upper Moon Six as a replacement for Daki and Gyutaro, and very often interacts with the Uppermoons so they happen to go yandere for her.

This man is powerful, and he very often makes it known.

He's a cold, terrifying demon who cares very little about human emotions.

He's ruthless and strict, so he bottles up his heart

So, when he meets his....match? He's not letting go.

When you were first introduced as an Upper Moon, he didn't think much of it

He just acknowledged your presence and that was it

That changed when he stumbled upon you devouring an entire village of people, still looking elegant and poised

That surprised him slightly, normally all the demons all crazy when it comes to battle, and let themselves go

He is humble, and you ask him to join you in your feeding session.

With that elegant smile on your face, how can he say no?

You are quiet and he finds himself enjoying your presence more and more

You carry yourself in a very elegant way, and over time, he falls in love.

But then things get dark from there.

He doesn't want you to leave him, always accompanying you when you hunt for humans, using his position against you, and not allowing you to interact with the other Uppermoons, and his threats are not empty promises.

"Kokushibo, I need to leave, I'm going to go hunt."

"I'm coming with you."

"There is no need. I insist I can go by myself. I'm not going to die."

"That wasn't up for discussion."

Good luck with him.

(He is so daddy. I'm sorry, but he is)

Muzan isn't loving, he never has been

He believes he is the perfect being, and that you are an extension of his perfection

Anything you do, connects back to him

He can read your thoughts and read your emotions and actions very well, so he can basically read you like an open book

This man sees potential in you, so you receive much more blood from him, and are promoted to the status of an Uppermoon.

He's seen your blood demon art before, but can't find it important enough to remember what it is

All he remembers is your carnage and chaos he had stumbled upon as you killed the last human in the village

He didn't bother caring about you

Until once again, he stumbled upon your chaos, only this time, he got to observe it, firsthand

He watched as you danced calmly in the streets, your voice ringing a strangely sweet sound in his ears

As people came out of their homes and watched, listened to you, enraptured by your voice

It was annoying watching you, so he went to leave until he heard a scream

It ended just as abruptly as it began.

He wasn't mesmerized, but he did enjoy your rather fast and efficient way of killing, but then he watched in surprise as you placed a hand on the ground and a red spider lily bloomed

He calls you over.

"My Lord! Forgive me for not noticing your presence earlier."

My darling, please tell me, what it was that you just did.

"Please forgive me, My Lord! I didn't mean to..."

"Answer me."

"Do you mean when I bloomed the spider lily? Did that inconvenience you, My Lord?"

"Tell me, what other flowers can you bloom?"

"Anything I wish, My Lord! I just need to know what it looks like and then I can make it!"

"No matter how rare?"

"No matter how rare, Muzan-sama!"

"My dear, you've done well. I have one simple task for you, if you can complete it, I'll be extremely proud of you."

"Anything!"

"Can you make me a blue Spider Lily?"

"Yes! Of course Muzan-sama!"

Out of simple excitement, you made quite an abundance of them, and he scooped you up and the flowers with one hand an all-to-knowing smile on his face.

"Good job, my perfect darling."

You are never leaving his grasp again.

"I wonder when Muzan-sama is going to let me leave." You thought, a puzzled expression on your face.

There was a smirk on his face as he studied the flower, not truly believing that this was real, and that it was all a fever dream.

"You don't get to leave, my darling. Stay in here and be a good girl, and I'll reward you with more of my blood."

This man can't feel a thing, so when he meets you and his heart skips a beat, he is instantly intrigued

You catch his attention pretty quickly, with how humble and elegant you are in comparison to him.

This man is flashy and sort of gaudy

He follows you around like a lost puppy

So much so, that Kokushibo has started to get annoyed with Douma following around his beloved

Even if Douma was assigned by Muzan to make sure you didn't step foot outside the Infinity Castle, that doesn't mean he could be obnoxious about it

Douma is very affectionate, so expect plenty of hugs and cuddling and stuff

He is forceful in his affections but you'll just have to learn to accept that!

What? What do you mean you need to leave and go hunt?

Muzna assigned him to make sure you stay alive and healthy and never leave

Don't be stubborn now!

He also occasionally leaves kisses on your cheeks, arms, and hands

Just because he's obsessed doesn't mean he's possessive, right?

Wrong.

He is clinging to you like a baby and legitimately feels discouraged when you aren't around

He guilt-trips you a lot

Fake crying, begging, the like, he has even ripped out his heart to offer it to you

You can use his vulnerability to your advantage, like crying as well, pouting, sulking

He hates seeing you sad, and when you are sad, he does his best to reassure you, even if it means he has to leave to get you food to bring back

He showers you in affection and makes his followers worship you too, proclaiming you a goddess because of how beautiful he thinks you are

He buys you everything and anything

He offers up his prey to you so you can eat together, thinks of it as a date

He loves spoiling you, so just don't leave him, alright?

"You don't get to leave, snowflake! I have all sorts of things planned for us today! Behave, okay?"

[kingkatsuki]

This was based off an ask I received from Kitten, thank you for always giving me the best ideas💕

But imagine you get caught up in a sudden trash storm with Enjin, it's not enough debris to damage the car but it's dangerous enough you can't drive or walk. The two of you are just barely outside the city, stuck in a very confined van with tension that's been mounting since the two of you met. Before Enjin leans over and presses his lips to yours, again and again before he's pulling from the passenger seat to the bench seat in the back. Tongue sliding over yours with a groan as he pins you to the old thread bare upholstery with the hopes of fogging up the windows.

Pairings: Engine / Enjin x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, friends to lovers, car sex, minimal prep, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, praise, dirty talk.

Word Count: 4.1k.

“Maybe you should take a break,” You glance over the centre console to see Enjin’s eyes fluttering at the wheel, sat forward in his chair as he fights sleep.

The heavy rock playing through the worn car radio does nothing to ease his drowsiness, nor do the potholes almost as large as craters that scatter along the contaminated zone.

Reaching over you run your fingers through the buzzed hairs of his undercut, trying to coax his attention back to the path in front of you. Enjin jolts slightly on contact before heaving a soft sigh, his knuckles turn white from how hard he grips the steering wheel as he narrowly misses a large trash pile.

“M’fine,” Enjin mumbles, reluctantly pulling himself away from your touch, terrified that the soothing sensation will have him falling asleep at the wheel.

“I know you’re tired,” You push, “Just for a bit, yeah? A power nap.”

You wanted to get home just as badly as him, the unspoken feelings between you two made it difficult to breathe and this mission had been exhausting. Not to mention how dangerous it was to settle in a contaminated zone for too long, especially when it was just the pair of you. Humans could be just as dangerous as the monsters that reside in the area.

“We’re like sitting ducks out here,” Enjin continued, and he would know. For some reason the Giver enjoyed taking strolls in the contaminated zone, even though the air was unbreatheable, “It’s not much further, it’ll be fine.”

A washer dryer falls to the left of you, colliding into the ground with an almighty smash. Pieces of debris fly everywhere as you jolt in the van, holding your hand to your heart at the sudden movement as you curse under your breath.

“You good, sweetheart?” Enjin turns to you with a grin, and it does nothing but make your insides feel like jelly.

You should be used to it by now, the so called junk thrown discarded by the sky people like it’s nothing. Most of it salvageable, cookers with broken buttons that just needed a quick replacement, hairdryers with blown fuses.

Enjin had even gifted you a diamond ring he’d found one evening on one of his regular strolls. The silver band was pristine, and looked as though it had never been worn. A pretty glistening diamond set perfectly inside it, and not a single scratch on it despite the impact from the large drop. You wondered why anyone would ever throw something so perfect away, and then you saw it— A simple black speck that sat in the middle of the carbon. The smallest, most pathetic reason that it had been thrown into the pit in the first place. Because of course, why would anyone up in Heaven want anything less than perfect— But it was perfect to you. The pretty gem sat perfectly on your ring finger, despite the fact that Enjin hadn’t asked you to marry him. And the speck that was supposedly imperfect, reminded you of the friend who had gifted it to you.

You were just friends, after all. A subject of consistent teasing between the other Janitors.

“If you like someone, you should tell them.” Griss would look back from his position in the drivers seat to wink at you, just as Enjin is shouting at him to “Keep your eyes on the road, Bozo!”

“Yeah, it’s not good to keep those feelings bottled up inside.” Tamzy spoke coolly from the backseat.

“Would sure suck if the person you liked didn’t like you back, though.” Riyo chimed.

Exactly, Riyo. You thought to yourself, It would fucking suck.

And aside from a few flirty words from Griss, and one night where he’d seen red when a travelling merchant offered to buy you a drink in the local pub. Immediately appearing at your side to ward him off, the poor man leaving with a black eye and a bruised ego. “You don’t need to solve everything with violence.” Riyo mocked Enjin, who was pink in the cheeks. For the most part it almost felt like an unspoken rule that you were Enjin’s.

And it didn’t matter anyway, because you were content with this— whatever this was. And it wasn’t worth ruining the relationship you had with feelings, you were satisfied. And you could cope with satisfied if it meant keeping Enjin as a friend, certain not to ruin your relationship with the complication of romantic feelings.

Another loud crash had you snapping back to focus, a hail of trash began to pour down on the barren wasteland, things that by themselves would never have proved deadly. But with the acceleration of gravity, items were deadly as they left dents in the strongest of boulders.

“Fucks sake. We’ve gotta take cover,” Enjin’s tattooed hand shifted on the gearstick as he began to reverse the truck, narrowly missing a falling bathtub as it crashed against the ground.

“Shit,” You squealed, holding onto the dash as Enjin expertly manouvered through the trash storm.

“Hold on.” He veered left to avoid another shower of trash as it made the vehicle fall down a sand dune, skidding to the side as you began to panic. Watching more trash tumble down around you like rain.

“Enjin, look out—” You saw the falling car before he did, an old battered Sedan. How did they even manage to get that down here?

“I fuckin’ know, woman. I know—” He spat, yellow eyes catching it just after you as he swerved roughly. Glad you had your seatbelt on as your side banged into the car door, knocking your head against the glass as he took another harsh turn.

Finding refuge beneath an abandoned Eolian cave as the tires screeched to a stop, the roof of the truck dented but nothing Riyo wouldn’t be able to fix with a hammer when you both made it back to the compound.

“Baby, you okay?” Enjin unbuckled his belt to lean over the center console, cupping your face in both palms as he turns you to face him. Tilting your head to check for any injuries as you reached up to place a warm, sweaty palm around his wrist. Leaning into his touch as you finally allowed your heart to lull, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

��It’s okay,” You shook your head, “Wasn’t your fault.”

“We shoulda never been out here this late, it is all my fault.” He shook his head as you both heard the loud crash of trash and debris continue to fall along the wasteland.

“It’s not your fault, Enjin.” You shook your head, squeezing his wrist softly to try and focus his attention back on you, “We’re okay.”

“I’d have never forgiven myself if you got hurt,” He continued, shaking his head. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him this worried, “I never wanna lose you.”

There’s a subtle change in his movement, and if you hadn’t have been so close to him you would’ve missed it. It was the way his eyes flit down to your lips for the faintest of seconds before meeting your gaze again. The movement has your heart rattling against its cages, dragging a metal cup along the bars to be unleashed from its prison as you took a chance. Tilting your head slightly in Enjin’s palms to brush your lips against his in a chaste kiss. They felt chapped against your softer ones, eager to feel them again as you chanced another peck, this time lingering as you stepped over that blurry line of ‘just friends’.

“We shouldn’t.” Enjin grumbles, obviously fighting the voices in his head as he tries to ignore the blood flowing through his veins. The only voice of reason, as always.

You’re in no mood to talk, hungry for another taste of him as you move your hands to his face, fingertips sliding behind the pink tips of his ears as warm palms graze his stubble. The gentle tips of your fingers stroke the base of his neck as Enjin feels all of his resolve start to crumble the moment you bring him in again.

“Enjin,” You whine against his lips as his warm breath fans your face. He smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne, the scent suffocating and intoxicating at the same time as your half-lidded eyes stare back at him.

“Don’t,” Enjin groaned against your mouth, and yet he made no attempt to pull back, “If you do that I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Who said I’ll want you to stop?” You replied simply, the taste of your chapstick now smeared against his lips as his tongue poked out to taste it. His nostrils flaring as he felt his entire body react to the implication of your words.

“Fuck it,” He grunts, tugging at your thigh as he pulls you over the center console. His grip firm on you as he positions you on his lap, perched on muscular thighs as you settle just before the semi-hard bulge beneath his pants. Slender fingers stroke along your back as he rests his forehead to yours, silently waiting for you to make your move. To push him away and tell him that you’re just friends; that you shouldn’t do this. But you don’t.

It’s carnal, the way you both paw at each other. Desperate to remove every barrier that stands between you both. Enjin’s long arms knock the top of the van as he tugs his shirt up and over his head, impatiently waiting for him to pull it high enough so you can reattach your lips to his. He’s like a drug you’ve become addicted to, desperate for another dose as your mouths clash together in a duel of tongues and teeth.

His fingers tug at the hem of your shirt roughly to remove it, swallowing the pathetic whine you make against his lips as you pull away for him to discard it. Leaning forward with more urgency as you kiss him again, tongue swiping against his top incisors as he palms your breasts through the simple black bra. The nights he’d spent awake fucking his fist to the thought of you would never compare to this, not in any lifetime.

Enjin pulls away from your bruised lips as you follow him forward, trying to reconnect them as he nudges your nose with his gently. Half-lidded eyes watch with amusement as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline, following the curve down to the column of your throat as he begins to bite and suck at your pulse point. Another pitiful whine vibrates in your throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, caging his head between your forearms as you thread your fingers through his messy hair. Your clothed breasts practically in his face now as he ventures lower, pressing a kiss against your sternum as he nuzzles at your soft mounds gently, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

Gravity has your tits bouncing into position as he gently pulls the cups away, revealing your chest to his hungry gaze. It’s his turn to sound desperate now as he groans, low and guttural in his chest as he commits the sight to memory. Certain that if all else fails he’ll have this memory carved into his consciousness for the rest of his existence.

“God, you’re perfect.” He rasps, reaching out tentively to cup your warm tits as he thumbs your nipples, watching them pebble in the cool evening air as you throw your head back in pleasure, “What the fuck are you doin’ with a lowly janitor like me?”

You don’t get a second to answer before Enjin is leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue swirls around your areola as he pinches and toys with the other, growling against your skin as your nails drag against his scalp in response.

“Fuck, Enjin.” You moan, rolling your hips as you feel the tent in his pants beneath you. His hard cock desperate to be released as your cunt throbs at the thought, eager to feel him after all this time.

“Don’t say my name like that, baby.” He groans, resting his cheek against your breast as he blows cool air against your spit-soaked nipple, “You’ll have me creaming my pants.”

“Enjin,” You ignore his plea as you roll your hips against him again, giving your clit more friction as you focus on the sensation.

“Fuck, you brat.” He grunts, gripping your hips in his palms roughly to stop you repeating the motion again. Positive that if you were to roll your heat against him one more time he would come undone.

“Want you so bad, Enjin. Please.” You choke, reaching between your bodies to paw at his belt. Your fingers toy with the worn leather as he takes pity on you enough to help, slender fingers brush yours away as he unbuckles it, tugging them down with his underwear just enough to free his aching cock.

It’s better than you expected, and your belly swirls with anticipation at the sight of him. What he lacks in girth he makes up for in length, the leaky cock head settles against his abdomen. Pre matts the messy blond hairs that follow a trail up to his bellybutton as the tip burns a fiery red. Swollen, angry and desperate for release as you wrap a palm around him. Making his hips buck wildly as you give a tentative stroke, catching the pre beading at the tip against your palm as you roll your wrist. Holding him straight as you look down between your bodies, watching where his length ends in comparison with your torso as you wonder if he’ll be so deep he’ll cum inside your guts.

Enjin becomes more restless now, impatient, as he bunches your skirt up around your hips. Groaning at the very evident wet patch that gleams against your panties as he presses a calloused finger against it, your eyes roll back into your skull as you feel him graze your clit.

“Oh, baby.” He hisses when your hand tightens around his girth, almost forgetting everything as you focus on the sensation of his fingers toying with you through the thin fabric, “Watch the nails.”

“S-ah, sorry,” You pant, loosening your grip as you follow the forking veins along him with the tips of your fingers.

“Gonna eat this sweet little pussy later, I promise.” He grunts, tugging your panties to the side as he watches your slick cling to the fabric, breaking off into silvery lines as he runs two fingers through your messy folds.

“Fuck, oh my god— Enjin,” Your hips rut pitifully at his touch. The sensation foreign but so satisfying as you seek it out again, whining as he circles the calloused pad of his index finger around your tight hole. Feeling the way it flutters around nothing as it tries to coax him in like a vindictive siren singing a final lullaby to a sailor.

Enjin breaches the gap and the sound that leaves your throat is downright debauched, causing his cock to jolt as he hooked his finger against your soft inner walls. It’s all too much, and simply not enough as you find yourself rolling your hips into his touch. Goading him to press his digit deeper as he feels just how wet and tight you are, certain that he’d never be able to replicate the feeling himself no matter how many Jinki he activated.

“You’re so pretty like this,” He murmurs, his thumb swipes your clit as he watches you try to ride his single finger.

“Enjin, don’t tease me,” You sigh breathlessly, wrapping your palm around his cock as it leaks fresh pre down the shaft. Drooling onto your fingers as you hold him upright, “I need you now.”

“I need to stretch you out, sweetheart.” He grunts, “I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“No, please Enjin,” You hover yourself over his length as you feel his leaky cock head graze your slit, “I want it to hurt.”

“Fuck,” His cock jumps at the lewd thought, wetting his lips with his tongue as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

“I’ve got a rubber,” He continues, wondering whether the one sat neatly inside his wallet is even in date. He neglects you to turn towards the back of the van to seek out his coat, “But I don’t know if it’s in date—”

“Don’t need it,” You tighten your fist around his cock, causing his head to fall back against the headrest, eyes roll back as you brush the tip of his cock through your sloppy folds, “Just pull out, okay?”

And Enjin thinks that’s easier said than done when he finally feels the warmth of your wet cunt engulf him. You’ve barely taken his engorged tip and the heat is already scorching, searing into him as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Trying his hardest not to use his grip on your hips to impale you on his cock in one fell swoop.

You’re slowly sinking down onto him now and you can feel every delicious inch as you take more and more of him inside. Your unprepped walls throb and ache as they adjust to the stretch, feeling every ridge contour to him as you give a few shallow thrusts.

You already feel impossibly full with half, your chest so tight as though you can feel him in your throat. His calloused thumb presses soft figure of eights to your puffy clit to distract you, and honestly to distract him too as it takes every ounce of willpower not to force you down on his throbbing cock.

“Wanna feel every inch of you.” You whine, bending your head to look between your bodies as you take more of him. Feeling the messy hairs at the base of his cock tickle your clit as you know you’re almost fully seated, positioning your hands on broad shoulders for some semblance of reality as Enjin feels your walls shudder around him.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you into the shape of my cock, sweetheart?” His words have your clit throbbing and your cunt convulsing as he grins. Neglecting your clit to hold onto the swell of your ass as he starts a savage pace, pulling you down onto his cock each time he ruts his hips up. Heavy balls slap against your ass with each movement, and you’re screaming obscenities.

Enjin’s never been more thankful that there’s no one around as he does nothing to quell your pretty sounds, instead he actively encourages them as he goads you on. Landing a harsh smack to your ass as he feels you clench around him.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” He coos, “You get yours—”

You’re practically using his body for your own pleasure as you roll your hips, his pubes tickle your clit with every forward motion as you cry out for him. Your hand splayed against the fogged window as the other buries sharp nails into his bare shoulder. Leaving red crescent-shaped moons in their wake as you grind against him, feeling the pleasure continuing to build in your abdomen.

There’s something sordid about watching you ride him, the subtle bounce of your tits as you roll your hips. Your thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain a steady pace, exerting all of your energy to try and pleasure yourself. A fact that really gets him off. Enjin takes pity on you, not leaving you to do all the work as he uses his grip to him you fuck yourself on his cock.

“God, look at you—“ Enjin sneers, though there’s no malice in it, “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He knows neither of you will last long, the pent up emotion shared between the two of you was unparalleled. So heightened that it was only a matter of time that it would reach boiling point and flood over. The fleeting glances and gentle touches not enough to quench the desire inside you both, as it left you craving more.

But he’s not going to concede to you so easily, slipping a black painted nail between your bodies as he thumbs your clit, pressing the palm of his hand against your pelvis so he can feel himself inside you. Watching the way your lashes flutter as you throw your head back in pleasure, your hand sliding against the fogged glass as your climax surges through you. Enjin keeps his thumb consistent against your clit we you lean back, throbbing around his cock as you ride out your bliss. There’s nothing but white hot pleasure blanketing your vision and making your brain fuzzy as you try to remember to breathe.

“God, you look so pretty when you cum.” He almost sighs, giving your clit a final sloppy circle before pulling away to hold your hips. Fingertips dip into your plush skin as he cherishes the way you pulse around him, giving himself a moment as he almost loses it too early. Terrified of finishing too soon and never having the chance to do this again—

His strengthens his grip on your hips, tilting your body back as he fucks you with renewed vigour. Selfishly seeking out his own climax as your back is pressed against the wheel, the horn blares in the background as you accidentally nudge it but neither of you seem to care. Your breasts bounce from the ferocity of his movements, his skin sticking to the worn leather seat every time his hips cant back but he still doesn’t stop.

“I’m gonna pull out, sweetheart.” He groans, lifting your body to reluctantly slip his cock from your warmth. Enjin knows if he doesn’t do it now, he never will. Perfectly content with fisting himself all over your skin.

“No, please don’t pull out, Enjin,” You clench around him, trying to keep him lodged inside you as your thighs tighten on either side of him, “Wanna feel you.”

“We can’t— I shouldn’t,” He presses, but there’s no real argument there. Not when your warm cunt coaxed him back in so eagerly, “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“Just cum inside me.” You reply as though it’s the most simple answer in the world.

“Ah, shit.” He grunts, your saccharine tone the final straw as his hips spasm. Unable to control the pleasure burning in his pelvis as his balls seize. His grip on your hips almost painful, certain to leave bruises in their wake as he fucks into you with renewed vigour. Both of you focused on each other as Enjin gives a few more frantic pumps inside your warm, wet cunt before he meets his own end.

“Fuck— gonna cum, shit.” He grunts as he pumps rope after rope of spunk inside your trembling walls, painting them white. His hips jerkily fuck it into you with a few more sloppy thrusts as you feel the warmth of it engulf you, your chest heaves as you try to come down from your high.

You both settle in silence, the only sound is the falling debris just outside the cave as the storm continues to rage. And your steady breath breathing together in tandem as Enjin’s fingers stroke slow absentminded patterns against your exposed skin.

You make the most adorable whine as Enjin pulls you up off his softening cock, wincing at the wet feeling of his release now drooling onto his inner thighs and the floor of the van as he pulls your chest against his. Your arms weave around his shoulders as you bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him as you bask in the afterglow.

“I didn’t think you wanted me like that,” You mumble against his collarbone, voice barely a whisper as you toy with one of his earrings.

“What?” Enjin tilts his head back slightly, turning to the side to try and meet your gaze as you shyly hide away, warm palms stroking your back, “How could I not want you like that?”

“I guess it’s just been so long,” You continue, “I just started to think maybe you just thought I was a friend.”

“I never really thought I had to say it,” Enjin shrugged, “You’ve always just kinda been mine in my head. Even if you weren’t officially mine.”

“So you’ve never wanted anyone else?” You were terrified of his answer, worried about all the women out there that were definitely prettier than you, smarter, funnier.

“Sweetheart, there would only ever be one girl I’d wanna give a diamond ring to.” He grins, pressing a wet sloppy kiss to your cheek.

[bet-on-me-13]

Dan is (Insert Character)

So, I've recently fallen in love with the idea of Dan being reformed and being a part of various characters Backstories, like This post about Dan being a Farmer Friend of the Kent's

So here are a few more examples of that!

Dan is Thomas Wayne: Dan is reformed and moves to Gotham to start a new life, while there he meets and befriends the elderly Wayne Couple, who never managed to have kids. Eventually the Wayne end up adopting Dan (who changed his name to Thomas), and he becomes Thomas Wayne. He even has a Kid. Unfortunately as a Parole Requirement, he had to lock away his powers, meaning he couldn't save himself or his Wife the day they got murdered in a Mugging. He became a Full Ghost, and in his rage at the death of his wife he relapsed into his old Violent self. Danny, while he understood the feeling, unfortunately did have to arrest him for his rage filled rampage. His Sentence is finally up, and he wants to see how his Son is doing.

Dan is Billy Batsons Dad: A little known fact about Billy Batson is that whenever he transforms into Shazam, he unconsciously makes himself look more like his Father than a future version of himself. So imagine his shock when, in the middle of a fight, one of his enemies takea a closer look at him and suddenly yells out, "Is that DAN!?". Billy now wants to know how these Extra Dimensional Monsters know his Dad's name. And why they seem Terrified of him...

Dan is Alfred's Dad: Alfred is taking one of his famously rare Vacations, and the rest of the Batfam decides to ask where he is going. "Oh, I'm going to visit my Father" "Wait what? Aren't you like 100 years old?! How is your dad still alive?!" "Did you not know? Alfred is a Demigod" "WHAT?!"

Dan is Jonathan Kent: Dan settles down somewhere in Smallville, Kansas. Unfortunately, as a Halfa he isn't physically capable of having kids, but as luck would have it a space pod carrying a small baby crashes into their fields one night. When that baby starts developing powers, Dan is experience enough to help him control them though. Just imagine one day, a Villain discovers Superman's Civilain Identity and tries to attack his Dad, only for his dad to be stronger than him.

Dan is Ra's Al Ghul's Dad: Dan was reformed and decided to get sent back in time to live his life, so he wouldn't interrupted the present Timeline. While there he met a lady and had a Kid. Unfortunately, he was forced to return to the Zone to wait for the Future to happen when his son was barely into adulthood, but he did decide to give him a Birthday Gift. The Lazarus Pits. Once in the Zone, he had to wait for a few centuries to pass before he was allowed to return, but once he was allowed back to the Living Realm he immediately began to search for his Son. The Pits should have kept him alive this long, so hopefully he lived a nice long life. Wait, who are these Cult Guys around his Lazarus Pits? And, where is his son? And why does that lady feel so familiar? Who is that little Demon Brat?

Dan is General Sam Lane: Simple really, Dan is Lois Lanes dad, and she is technically a Quarter Ghost but she had never awakened her powers. If you want to use the Injustice Timeline, then Lois gets resurrected after a few days and finally awakens her Halfa Powers. She is there to stop Superman from fully turning to the Dark Side, and asks her Dad to help Clark keep his emotions in check.

What do you think?

[the-apocrypha]

Cottagecore Series DVD Bonus Features

By popular request: the deleted scenes of how Dream and Hob ended up confessing their respective Big Secrets to one another. Below the cut are a series of conversations that take place a few days after Dream announces his pregnancy with Orpheus, and they are incredibly angsty. They also heavily feature abortion as a conversation topic. These were originally written to intercut with at least two miracles but didn't end up working out due to tone issues, and also don't really work as a standalone fic, so. If you're interested--enjoy!

The possibility of a child—their child, their own, of them—had occasionally crossed Hob’s mind, in the same way that other fantastical things like dragons and public libraries did. Fleeting. Unformed. Simple, wonderful little daydreams. 

The reality of it was both impossibly more exciting and terrifying than he could have ever imagined. 

Hob thought of a beautiful child with tiny pointed ears and glowing amber eyes. He thought of a babe born to the world still and pale, never to draw a single breath of life. He thought of all the stories his mother used to tell him, the skipping games and the toy swords and songs that lived inside of him, waiting to be passed down to someone small and new. He thought of a fae child, enamored of the forest and magic and books of learning, with little use for its mortal father. 

Once, when Hob was young, his mother had been called to help an ewe who had been laboring for the better part of the day. Twin lambs, both trying to emerge at the same time.

They’d had mutton for dinner, that night. And for many nights after that. 

Hob could not stop thinking about it. About everything.

What if the child came out completely human. 

What if the child came out completely fae. 

“You told me once,” Hob said, the words leaving his mouth even as lead weights sank pits into his stomach, even as his heart said don’t ask this don’t ask this don’t do it, but he had to, he had to know. “You told me once. That it took you a very long time to grow up.” 

Dream paused. “Yes,” he said, at length. “But time in the realm of the fae is not so… linear as it is here. It is—it was subject to neither law nor order. Time was fickle. Changeable.” 

“You said that it was almost a hundred years.” 

“That was… a guess,” Dream said. 

Hob stared. 

“It was unusual,” Dream added. He did not meet Hob’s eyes. “It. It was a choice I made. The rest of my siblings came of age much faster than I.” 

“How fast?” Hob asked, heart in his throat. 

Dream swallowed. 

“How fast?” 

“The child is half mortal, Hob it should not—it will not age as a fae child would. It cannot, it—it will not have the same power, the same gifts, and moreover, the laws of this universe would not allow—” 

“Oh, you know that, do you?” Hob asked, eyebrows raised. “Like you knew that a mortal man couldn’t get you pregnant in the first place?” 

Dream flinched. 

Hob sighed, and scrubbed at his face. “I’m just. I’m just thinking. We don’t know what we’re going to get, eight months from now—” If they were going to get anything at all. “—and we’ve got zero precedent to go off of, here. It. It could be anything. It could grow like a human and take sixteen years and be done. But, it could also…” 

“It will not,” Dream said, but there was a traitorous wobble in his voice.

“It could,” Hob insisted. “It could, Dream, and we just. I just want to be prepared for that. I want you to be prepared for that.” 

Dream stared, like the whole world was crashing down around him. As if he had not considered this at all. “No.” 

“Yes.” 

“Hob—” 

“But, listen—listen, it’ll be okay,” Hob said hurriedly, and took Dream’s hands into his own. Put on the bravest face he could muster. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll be with you every step of the way, for. For as long as I can be. Even if it means being stuck in the terrible twos for an entire decade. You just might have to do the teenage years on your own, that’s all. And. You know. The thousand years that come after that.” 

Dream closed his eyes. 

Hob tried desperately to rally. “And, hey! The good news is, at least I won’t be around to give any dodgy sex talks when it comes time for that, since I obviously—” 

“Hob,” Dream said. 

“Though clearly pregnancy prevention isn’t your strong suit either,” Hob allowed. 

“Hob.” 

Dream’s eyes were open again, and they were full of tears. 

“Hob,” Dream said again, and it caught in his throat. “Hob, I—I am not going to live for another thousand years.” 

Hob frowned. “But—”

“I made,” Dream said, and with the next blink the tears spilled over, “a bargain.” 

The reason that Hob had kept it a secret for so long (was because he was a coward) was because, in his opinion, there had been no good that would come of the truth. 

Dream had assumed that the people of Eskham had turned against Hob for being a hedgewitch. He’d assumed in turn that mortals were prejudiced against any being with magic, which was a category that happened to include the fae but more importantly included Hob, who did not have the ability to summon tornadoes or fell ancient oaks. Dream still sweetly seethed about the injustices Hob’s own people had done upon him. He had yet to even once seem concerned for his own safety. 

This was fair. 

Dream had, after all, taken out an entire village of mortals in one wrothful fell swoop. 

Now, Dream had confessed what had happened in the aftermath of that massacre—what he had so readily sacrificed, to save Hob’s life—and it had been devastating in its own right. It had left Hob awake at night, imagining what it would be like to grow older and older and older, while his child did not. 

But it had also pulled on the string that unraveled whatever remained of their tapestried joy at the possibility of impending parenthood. The happiness was gone. The happiness should never have existed in the first place, because the ache of its absence was far worse than to have never known it at all. Hob could not believe he ever felt such simple, mindless elation at what had quickly become a question to which every answer was more horrifying than the last. 

Hob thought of a babe with perfectly pointed ears, stolen away in the night, drowned in the river. 

Hob thought of a child with huge, phosphorescent eyes, tied to a stake above a pile of dried tinder. Screaming.

Hob thought of black-nailed teenager who had had forty-odd years of childhood with its parents before they succumbed to old age, and left their child alone in a world it did not belong in. Orphaned. Ostracized. Hunted. 

It filled Hob’s stomach and left him unable to eat. It pressed down on his chest at night, and he could not sleep. 

And he knew what he needed to do. 

At the same table where Dream had confessed not three days ago, Hob sat himself heavily on the bench. 

Dream stared back wanly. He’d spent most of the morning vomiting copiously, which perhaps made this timing even worse, but Hob knew if he did not say it now he might never say it at all. 

“Dream,” Hob said carefully. The words stuck in his throat like glass, and they tore him open one by one as he forced them out. “There’s. The other day, when you told me about the bargain you made. I—there’s something that I should. Something I should have told you, before—something. Something.” He swallowed. “Something I. Something.” His nails dug into his palms. His heart was pounding in his ears. “Something—” 

“Hob.” 

Dream’s hand splayed across his chest is like ice on fire. Hob sucked in a breath, and relished the burn. 

He seized Dream’s hand in his own. Looked Dream in the eyes. Prepared to pull this one last thread of sanity for the person he loved more than anything in this world. 

“Something,” Hob said unevenly, holding onto Dream like a lifeline, “that I should have told you a long time ago. About. About Eskham.” 

Dream tilted his head, brows drawing together. “Eskham?” 

Hob nodded. 

“What about it?” Dream asked. 

He had no idea. He had no clue. 

“That day,” Hob said, and he was gripping Dream’s hand hard as if he could prevent the inevitable withdrawal. “When they came for me.” 

And Dream nodded. He reached out with his other hand to rest it on Hob’s forearm—a gesture meant as supportive that only served to make Hob’s stomach drop to new depths. 

But this was not about him. This was not even about Dream. It was about their child, carried one day into a town square with pitchforks at its throat and devil spawn in its ears. It was about deserved truths. 

“That day,” Hob said again. He swallowed against a dry tongue. Against the heart that was trying to escape through his throat. “That day. The mob. They weren’t looking for me.”

Dream stared. 

Hob’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he might be sick. 

He watched, as Dream’s face went from confusion, to realization, to—

Bloodless. 

Grey. Dead eyes and parted lips. Staring, but not seeing. 

“I—defended you,” Hob made himself say. “I wouldn’t tell them. Where you were. I told them that I loved you, that you were just as natural as any other creature in this realm and that I would rather die before I let any of them hurt you, and—” 

Dream yanked his hands back. 

Hob tried to hold on, but he wasn’t quick enough. Not strong enough. 

“You,” Dream whispered. 

“I don’t regret it,” Hob said frantically, almost angrily. He was losing control, the tidal wave of panic and horror sweeping him out to a roiling sea he could not swim in, and he barely knew which words would leave his mouth when he opened it again. “I haven’t regretted it for a single second, Dream, not once, not ever, I’d have burned on that stake a thousand times over before I let them touch you, I’d—” 

And Dream bolted. 

Hob leapt to his feet to follow—but his calf muscle seized, and he careened to the side and just barely managed to grab the table at the last second. Stood there, panting, gripping the table as his calf cramped hard enough to render the entire leg useless. Staring at the empty doorway. 

He deserved this, he supposed. 

It didn’t make it hurt any less. 

The summer air was thick and sweet beneath the canopy of the forest. The trees mostly blocked the breeze, but so also the warmth of the sun, which made it about as pleasant as any place was during the midday heat. They were sat at the base of an ancient yew tree that Dream favored, not far from the cottage, and had been for some time. Ravens chattered and rustled softly overhead. A large halo of bird shit was slowly accumulating around them. 

Dream inhaled as if to speak, for the third time in about as many minutes. This time, though, the words came. 

“I do not want. Our child. To be hunted.” 

Hob closed his eyes. “I know.” 

“We do not know what powers it will be born to. What features it will be born to.” 

Unspoken—the slimmest chance, the highest hope, that it would somehow be born wholly mortal. 

A mortal body. A mortal magic. A mortal lifespan. 

“We’ll do whatever we have to, to protect them. Whatever it takes. You know we will,” Hob said, and even as anxiety turned his stomach over, rage flared through him hot and fast. “Anyone that tries to lay a finger on our child, I’ll—I’ll kill ‘em. I would. Anyone. Everyone. And if they think I’m terrifying just wait until they meet the thirty-foot forest nightmare right behind me that can summon hail and rent the earth.” 

Dream swallowed. “Hail and earth. Did not save you.” 

Hob tightened his grip around Dream’s waist. “Yes it did.” 

“You—” 

“Yes it bloody well did. You saved my life that day, you fought, and if you hadn’t been there I—” 

“If I had not been there,” Dream interrupted darkly. He barked one harsh, bitter laugh. “If I had never inflicted myself upon you in the first place, then no mob would have ever come for you at all. You would be—” 

“Lonely,” Hob said. He tried desperately to keep the frustration from rising. “I told you. I would have been lonely, and bored, Dream, and I would have died in that house feeling as if I’d never truly lived at all. You are the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

“I nearly killed you,” Dream said. 

“You saved—”

“And now,” Dream continued, staring into the depths of the forest, “I have attempted to thrust a child upon you, without your consent. I have tried to sentence you to spending the rest of your meager years consumed in the care of a creature that will only suffer as a result of my own hubris—my own selfishness—and it will resent us. It will hate us. It will hate me, and it will be right to do so for—” 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Hob said, scrambling around in front of Dream, and cupping his face. 

Dream stared determinedly to the side, with eyes that were red-rimmed and shiny. His breaths came uneven and jagged. 

“You and I both know that you didn’t get pregnant on purpose,” Hob said fiercely. “You didn’t know better. I didn’t know better. Right?” 

“Hob—” 

“This isn’t something that you’ve done to me. To us. Neither one of us is to blame here. Not one little bit. And it wouldn’t matter anyway if it was, because whatever happens, you know that we’re in this together. We’re going to do what we always do, and make it work. Figure it out. Pregnancy, childbirth, parenthood, all of it. Together. Yeah?” 

Dream set his jaw, and at last met Hob’s eyes. Slowly, he reached up, and pulled Hob’s hands away from his face. 

“You argue. That we are absolved of any guilt, for what strife our child may face in life. Because we held no intention of conception, in our couplings,” Dream said. 

“...Yes?” Hob said, eyebrows raising. “I don’t think we can be blamed for bringing a child into the world when we didn’t know it was possible in the first place.” 

“Incorrect,” Dream disagreed. 

Hob opened his mouth, but Dream continued too quickly. 

“Ignorance acquits us from blame in the conception of this child, yes.” Dream’s hand moved, in the periphery of Hob’s vision, delving into the folds of his robe. “But we are not without agency, in these early months of pregnancy.” 

Dread swung sudden and hard into Hob’s chest, like a fist. 

“...What do you mean?” 

Dream held out his hand between them, and uncurled his fingers. A cluster of flowers rested there. 

Tansy. 

“It sings to me of… release,” Dream said. His thumb brushed over golden petals like spikes. “Of choice. Liberty. Of the harmonization of poison and medicine, as one.”

Hob took in a deep breath, because he was, for the first time in days, hopeful. 

Hob was also terrified. 

Hob was sick, sick, sick, sick. 

“I believe,” Dream whispered, eyes boring in Hob’s, “that it would be enough. To—take care of it.” 

There was a cup of water on the table, steaming and yellow with tansy. 

Choice, Dream said it sang. Release. Liberty. The harmonization of poison and medicine, as one. 

But to Hob, it was silent as a grave. 

Dream was holding the cup so tightly his knuckles had gone white. The steam had long disappeared from the cup, leaving only a stagnant yellow tonic. Hob had offered to leave the cottage twice and allow Dream some privacy, and on the second time Dream had grabbed his hand, hard, and he hadn’t let go since. 

Hob’s fingers ached where they were threaded through Dream’s, but he did not complain. 

He sat in silence, and watched Dream raise the cup to his mouth. 

Watched him inhale. 

Watched him close his eyes. 

Watched him press the rim of the cup to his lips. 

Watched as Dream froze, and was perfectly still for an eternity save for the tremble of the cup in his grasp—

And the cup slammed down onto the table, sloshing poison everywhere, and Dream gasped, “I cannot. I cannot, forgive me, Hob, I—” 

Hob grabbed him and pulled him in hard. “It’s okay—” 

“—I cannot do it, I cannot—” 

“—you don’t have to—” 

“I should,” Dream snarled, gripping the fabric of Hob’s tunic and pushing back. There were tears streaming down his face. “I should end it, I should be rid of it. It is. It is the only humane option, the only option that guarantees that—that—” 

“I know, love,” Hob said miserably, his own throat going tight and hot. “I know that. But—” 

“Hob,” Dream choked out. He tried to inhale, but could not. “Hob, I can—hear it.” 

Hob’s heart skipped a beat, and his mouth went numb. “Y-you—” 

“I can—” Dream slapped his hands over his mouth. He stared at Hob in horror. 

Dream, who could hear the songs of river stones and the herbs in the garden. Who communed with foxes and ancient oak trees alike. Who had come to Hob with news of this pregnancy but without explanation as to how he knew. 

“You can hear it,” Hob repeated blankly. 

“I should not have told you,” Dream said, shaking his head. His eyes were blank and unseeing and wet with tears. “I. I should not have told you, I told myself I would not, I—it should not matter. It does not matter.” 

“What does it sound like?” Hob asked. 

Dream looked up at him. His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

“Dream, what does it sound like?” 

He shouldn’t ask. 

He couldn’t not know. 

“Like. A songbird,” Dream whispered. 

A songbird. 

“The most beautiful—” Dream choked on a sob. “The most beautiful songbird, Hob, the most wonderful songbird in the world.” 

And Hob. Hob, quite abruptly, could not imagine a world where he did not one day get to hear that song. He could not imagine a world in which he did not get to hold their child in his arms this winter and instantly fall in love with whatever features the world had seen fit to give them, mortal or fae or some splendid combination of both. 

He could not imagine what it would be like, for Dream to sit at this table and drink down poison and then listen to the song of their child go silent. 

Dream sobbed in his arms. He begged for forgiveness—from Hob. Their future child. The universe. I have failed, he said, over and over again. Selfish, and weak, and worthless, he named himself, and he would not be consoled with any combination or repetition of words Hob had to offer. 

But still, the tansy sat untouched. 

Eventually, it went out the window. 

And the songbird lived another day.

[the-dawn-star]

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

A/N: Hi and first of all love this idea. I kind of made this longer than intended and I left it guite open ended but I hope you like it and you don't mind I changed it a bit. Once again Jane is the movie version of the character!!!

-S

+800ish words.

CW: I mean Jane tortures Reader. Heavy angst.

Your relationship had been a struggle for a long time. You were still a human and now you were moved to Volterra to live with the vampire royalty. It was all so much, but so was your blossoming love for Jane. Your dear Jane. Jane whose main priority in life was protecting the kings and working. It was all that she had ever known, and you couldn’t even blame her for that. But Jane had started to open up to you as time went on. She talked to you about the most mundane things in her life but in truth you could have listened to her for hours.  

Aro hadn’t loved the idea of Jane finding her mate. He was so protective of the girl that he had found hundreds of years ago. And you didn’t make this protectiveness any easier. Quickly Aro had found out that his powers didn’t work on you. Reason for this wasn’t clear but after a bit of convincing Aro accepted you to move to Volterra to get to know Jane better.  

“My love...” Jane had the voice of an angel and that was the only thing that could wake you up from your sleep without making you pissed off.  

You let out a non-committal groan and opened your eyes.  

“I’m sorry but I need to go to work. There has been a problem...” Jane being evasive made you sit up in worry.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“I can’t talk about it yet, just stay here until I get back, okay?”  

You didn’t have time to answer until your mate had left the room leaving you alone on the cold bed.  

With a bit of hesitation, you laid back down and slowly fell back asleep.  

~~~ 

You woke up with your room door being slammed open. Two guards that you didn’t know walked in and didn’t give you any time before ripping you from the bed and dragged you out of the room.  

You begged for some sort of explanation. Anything that made you understand why you were being dragged to the lower levels of the castle... The levels where you weren’t allowed to go. The levels where Jane had to work sometimes, leaving her exhausted as a vampire can be.  

You were thrown into a small simple room, with a tiny table, chair and a bed, if you could call a mattress with a pillow a bed.  

It was a while before you saw anyone but when you finally saw a person you didn’t assume it would be Jane. Your dear Jane.  

“Jane! My love! What’s going on?!” You asked, hurrying to the door trying to reach your love.  

“Don’t..., I know what you did.”  

The love that you had come so used to was gone from her eyes. Her eyes were pooling with venom and her eyes were dark and sad.  

“What are you talking about?” You asked while feeling the anxiety rising up to the surface.  

“Don’t play dumb! You were the only one I told about the plans! Aro was read everyone's minds already! It has to be you so just admit it please!” 

Jane’s yells bounced off the walls and for the first time looking at her you didn’t see your love. You saw a terrified and angry young woman, who could case you more pain than you could ever imagine. Was this what most people saw when looking at your mate? Danger? Pain?  

“Are you talking about the Romanians? Is this all about that!”  

Jane had told you about Aro’s plan to kill the rest of the Romanian coven, but all the details she had told you were now erased from your mind by time.  

“Yes, it is, so just confess!” Your normally calm Jane, she was panicking.  

You didn’t have anything left to say. You were confused, scared, angry..., alone. Your only ally in the castle, your dear Jane, had left you.  

“Okay..., if that’s what you want...,” Jane’s words were ominous, and your stress level rose to the roof.  

Then the pain started. The pain that Jane had promised you would never feel. The blinding, fiery pain. You couldn’t feel your body anymore, it was just pain. Until it all went away... 

~~~ 

You finally opened your eyes. You woke up back in your bed and for a second it all seemed like a bad dream. You took a deep breath letting yourself sink into the mattress. But your peace was interrupted when you took a look around the room. 

Jane was curled into a corner of the room, eyes glued to you. Her sad eyes. Her black eyes pooled with venom.  

You couldn’t look at her, not right now at least, so you got up from the terribly comfortable bed and walked straight to the bathroom locking it behind you.  

You looked like death. Tired and angry, but you couldn’t do anything about that just yet.  

“I’m really sorry..., you have to believe me, my love. We really thought that it was you...” Jane’s words behind the door didn’t make you feel any better. And to make sure you didn’t lash out you stayed quiet. You had all the right to be quiet after screaming your throat raw.

~~~

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[bandersnatchers]

I think something that always makes me cry about Astarion is just his learning what he can be like when he actually has safety and a support system. (Warning: the admittedly overly long essay has some spoilers)

Like sure in his initial dealings with you, it might look like he disapproves of good deeds if you're not choosing sassy answers.

But the man's been mentally/sexually/physically abused for 200 years and he straight up believes people can't genuinely care. All he has is his survival instinct and the knowledge of what hell is like. You beat a dog enough and all it knows is violent anger, and you meet him after he has just been given a slice of freedom from those centuries of beatings. He's terrified it's going to be taken away from him. Of course hes not going to be wanting to do things that could risk this freedom. Of course he's going to fall back on the only way he knows to barely survive - manipulation and cruelty.

But as the story goes on, if you show him you actually care, that you're genuinely nice, he learns he actually has safety with your character, stability even. This doesn't even have to be romantic, like the scene where you just back him up and say "Astarion is his own person, he makes his own choices" is a literal shock to his system. He has not had simple autonomy in over 200 years, I can't even imagine what that does to your mindset. And if you do go down the romantic route and you're actually accepting of him wanting to slow down and that you still genuinely care about him... He learns that as a survivor he's still worth love even if he doesn't provide sexual gratification. That his companionship is all you need - that he's worth it. That he's more than it.

There was definitely hints of him caring before. I mean I was sitting at high approval with him for a while, and you can definitely see through his sassiness that he is starting to care about the party. After this though, he just genuinely sees your character as someone he can depend on, and he starts approving of good actions ie) giving food to kids, letting yenna stay with you. And he approves because he's not as terrified anymore. He's not frantically clutching at resources or power or safety, because for the first time, with these companions, he doesn't need to. For the first time he sees that people can be genuinely caring and that's okay and good. He sees that maybe even he can be genuinely caring. The bond with the group grows SO much, and he finally has people he can rely on and that rely on him.

And when you get to act 2/3 (depending on where you separate the acts) and you learn what Cazador wants, you see him start to get mean and defensive again and it's because he's terrified he's going to lose everything he just recently grasped. His instinct is to power grab - what he mainly knows is that power means people can't hurt you - means you can hurt them instead. He's up against his abuser of 200 years and while yea, the group is strong and by this point you've likely done some incredible feats, 200 years of abuse makes Cazador the most terrifying monster to him. Furthermore, as you progress towards Cazador, Astarion has to witness what 200 years of his slavery has done to others, has to look them in the eye when he didn't even know they were still alive. He has to contend with what he was forced to do, what this means for others, what this means for him.

Astarion is then given such a potential boon - he can make it all go away. He can make the 7000 spawn go away. He can make Cazador go away. He can make the last 200 years go away. He can be free in the sun. He can make it so no one can ever hurt him again, forever. All he has to do is follow through with what most of his life has taught him - that cruelty and power are the only things that matter. All he has to do is kill 7000 victims (and oh how easily he can spin this to be a good thing), and all he has to do is kill his damned master (this is a good thing I will admit).

But this isn't that story. This is a story about a survivor that finally had the support and love to learn that he is more than what was done to him, and what he was forced to do. This is a story about a person who looks at exactly what terrifies him the most, and decides I will break this cycle of abuse, I will look it dead on, while with my friends, my new family, and I will stop it. This is a story about a person who learns that yes, certainly, there are cruel things in this world, horrors that haunt you, but this is a world full of love and care and he can help it. He can love and care for it, or in the very least start with his companions.

I haven't progressed much past this part yet, but thinking about it always makes me tear up. I know the story going forward could have some devastating twists, but right now I'm just excited to see what Astarion is like with this chapter over. Im very thankful Larian gave us this story of survivorship and love.

[coirinthyurilo]

Headcanon and explanation about Will's plague powers and how dangerous he can actually be, even if it's watered down.

Okay. So I get it. Will is the son of Apollo, and he's pretty OP in a sense. He can heal people, and that's like. Technically the most important thing in the Demi-god world. Due to the amount of injuries you can have.

You need a healer on bay. But Will is not only just a healer. He actually has plague powers as proven in TSATS. Able to give hay fever to a primordial that even Zeus fears? If your hink about it. If Will's plague powers weren't that powerful. Nyx wouldn't even have registered that she had gotten sick. But she did?

I doubt even a primordial goddess can even get sick. So imagine her shock when she realized she got sick all because some boy who was made from the sun gave him sickness in one of his domains.

And imagine that much power to even AFFECT Nyx? To a Demi-god or a simple fragile, can die at any-given circumstance, MORTAL. They'd probably have the worst known disease that not even mankind has even registered to know yet.

And I like to think. That as he grows his healing over time so does his plague powers. They're two sides of the same coin. Like they develop at the same time in the same way. Every time Will heals, it adds more power to his healing. With his plague powers it does the same.

That's also probably why he was able to make Nyx sick. Because if he had just found out about his plague powers wouldn't it be really weak at first?

So there. That's my explanation on it.

Now for the headcanon.

I like to think that in a future war or so, when Will is shoved to the edge, seeing multiple die at once. He just wants it to stop. He wants the war to stop. He NEEDS the war to stop. Especially when he finds Nico fatally injured.

And because of that desire and need for that to happen. The only thing his brain processes a logical answer. Is death. If the enemy is dead. The war will end sooner and no one that he cares about will continue dying.

So imagine seeing Will Solace walk into the middle of a battle. Many lay dead at his feet and there's an entire army in front of him. Out of pure fucking anger, he let's out piercing supersonic whistle that catches them off guard. And once they drop their swords to cover their ears.

Will takes a breath.

One single exhale leaves him. And green smoke erupts from his throat, like a poisonous gas. It didn't seem to bother then at all at first, it didn't even smell..?

And it looks pretty harmless, until people start to have burns and rashes, eyes turning red, as their legs give in, their Asaphogus shuts tight and they have the trouble to even breath. And they die. They die and they fall.

And the so called healer. Has once made an entire army sicker. That's how scary Will's powers can be if developed to the FULLEST of it's potential.

There's even a head canon I thought on how Will can drain people's life force and take it for himself to use and resotre his power to heal once he runs out of energy. That would be such a weird and cool concept.

Imagine some guy uses another person's life force and transfers that life force to you so can survive instead? What an eerie and such a terrifying thing to see and think about.

Especially when the harmless healer can most likely be fatal. It's just that no one has ever made snap. 🤷‍♀️

[jarvesque]

I did not expect to like Dndrag queens as much as I do, I just expected it to be a nice little distraction before the next big season.

But it's so fascinating to see 4 new players approaching the game in different ways, and I want to categorize them

Alaska : she's understated but she's clearly engaging with the plot (the way she immediatly figured out the corrupted wraith clasp was great). She has a simple character and a simple backstory and she is a bit cautious with the roleplay but she is having fun (she reminds me of me during my first campaign)

Monet : She has a more complex and edgier backstory. She's in it for the power fantasy (who doesn't want to be a super powerful half-elven half-merfolk assassin with mommy issues?) but she still cares about the narrative and she takes things a bit more seriously

Jujubee : She's the embodiment of chaos, a future Axford. Brennan gave her the power to shape a world with her mind and imagination and she is having the time of her life. Also she cried during one of Alaska's scene showing that she cares about the other Pcs as much as she cares about Twyla (also a very Axford trait)

Bob : She's the most theatre kid of them all. She lives for the drama. She immediatly went for a very complicated and dark character (in the AP they revealed a part of Gertrude's backstory and it was genuinely fucked up and terrifying) She may struggle a bit with the rules but once she'll get the hang of it she'll be an amazing player

[siscon-stsg]

Just saw the birthday posts... The punishment I get for not following you.

Possibly belated happy birthday!

---

Y!Big bro!Geto with a sorcerer!Little Sister!Reader.

---

He doesn't find out you're a sorcerer until he arrives to kill his parents and you.

He can't help but feel disgust at the prospect of hurting you, but he doesn't do exceptions for monkeys. He has to force himself to think you're not his sister anymore.

But then, when he arrives to kill his non-sorcerer parents... You fight back. You can see curses! No, it's not just that. You're strong. Huh, your cursed technique is so similar to his.

He wonders if you were so scared you did your best to stay under radar. In a way he's glad, he couldn't bear losing you (Despite his previous intentions being to kill you.)

He's elated during the fight. Basically grinning from ear to ear. It's the happiest he's been since forever. If only you weren't protecting those monkeys...

Whatever, it's not a problem. You'll understand your big brother at some point. You've always been so eager to please him after all. Oh, he wants that back.

He knocks you out and destroys the curse you were controlling. Then he turns his attention back to his parents.

Splash.

Blood is all over his body. Disgusting.

-

Time passes and he's a cult leader now!

You're still a litte defiant, but it's okay. You grew up with monkeys, so he's not surprised you're only having your rebel phase now. And yes, that's what he tells himself.

He's always curious. But especially during the first few times he tries to teach you. Your technique is really akin to his. A sweeter version of his Cursed Spirit Manipulation. He smiles as he watches you pet a curse, before turning it into your version of an orb. A simple piece of candy. It looks sweet. It must be from how precious you are. His sweet sister.

But he asks anyway. Sure, it looks sweet, but what if it still tastes the same? He can't imagine you going through what he did, tasting those disgusting curses. Thankfully all his worries are shunned away as you tell him that they're either sweet or taste like your favourite food.

They're always a little weaker than they were at first though. Their powers dimmed by your innate positivity.

And yet, as time passes and you continue to stay locked up, they begin to taste and look just like his. This terrifies him. Why? Why, why, why? That's wrong. He can't allow you to suffer like he did!

He begins to let you out more often. Only around the temple, of course. He introduces you to Nanako and Mimiko. He puts a spin on your story, saying that you met in kindergarten and were sweethearts in primary school, before you had to move away, and now you're back.

You consider telling them the truth, but you're scared of what he'd do. And one look at their adorable faces and you know you have to preserve that. They seem to admire him, and you didn't want to hurt them. Or worse, have them think it's okay.

So you pretend.

The first time a non-sorcerer runs into you, Geto (He couldn't help but notice you've stopped calling him by his name) kills them. This leaves you traumatised for a few months, staying cooped up in your glorified cage.

Geto is worried about you during that period, making sure to check up on you even more often. He's bringing you the best food, best clothes, everything you could want. Of course, he's trying to convince you that that "monkey" deserved that.

Finally you're feeling well enough to go out again. You wander around the temple, particularly enjoying the gardens. Oh? Is this a lake? It's your favourite spot now. It's so serene.

And for the first time since he ruined your life, you're relaxed. You're sitting with him by the lake until it gets dark. You get tired and yawn, laying your head on his knees.

He wants to stay something, but decides against it. You look so content, comfortable. Oh, how he missed that look. His little sister was finally happy again.

He notices the shift right afterwards. You've become more cheerful. No, maybe not cheerful yet, but definitely more upbeat. Good. Perhaps you'd believe his cause in no time. And then everything would be perfect.

He feels as if an enormous weight was lifted off of him when he sees you turn a curse into a piece of candy again. It delighted him.

You start training outside. He never goes too hard on you, of course. He wouldn't want to exhaust you. He just needs you to remember you're a sorcerer, not one of those monkeys.

You've also started picking up the word from him. The first time you called someone a monkey was an accident. Some whore was being mean to you, and you vented to Suguru about that. He got rid of her completely, but for now he told you he just kicked her out. And you believed him.

During your training sessions you've learned how to stop the curses from becoming weaker as well as how to control them better. You also learned some hand-to-hand combat, as well as ranged and melee techniques. But you weren't the only one that learned something during these sessions.

You helped him make the orbs taste bland. They weren't as sweet as yours or anything, but they didn't taste like rags that have been vomited on. No, they were just bland. Like bread.

He's the one teaching you everything. Well, mostly everything. There are times when he's particularly busy. Those times, he lets his family teach you. You even have learning sessions with Nanako and Mimiko! Speaking of which, you've become best friends, with them seeing you as a mother figure. (He walked on you cuddling one time except for studying. He thought it was the sweetest sight ever.)

He starts taking you outside the temple once you're more convinced of his ideals. It's mostly when Nanako and Mimiko really want to go to a restaurant, and they want you there! (They also drag you to other spots, much to Suguru's dismay. But he wants to please his daughters as well as you.)

Speaking of ideals, he's delighted to see you accept them. Oh, you're so amusing when berating one of the money-making monkeys. He's going to have to borrow some of these texts. You start attending his meetings too, sitting either on his lap or beside his shoulder. He wasn't so sure of the idea at first, but once he saw you in his robes, he melted.

You were like a mini him! (Suguru started calling you mini him since then.)

And then there's your late night meetings. The ones that disgusted you back when he forced you into this life, but now you were convinced that it was okay.

Especially when he's eating you out so good. You can't stop calling out his name while he's ravishing your pussy so good. It's like you're a five star meal. Oh, and when he finally puts his dick in. He's always so gentle with you, singing praises as to how you're taking him so good.

You think that must be right, with how he's pounding into you.

"Fuck, you're so good. Best pussy ever. No monkey comes close to you, Sugar. My Mini Me. Mine, all mine."

Yours, yours, yours. These words easily slip out of your mouth.

-

Let's say in thie scenario everything goes right. His plan succeeds. He wins against Okkotsu, all thanks to you—your love proving to be stronger. You successfully eradicated a great part of monkeys, and more were on their way.

So this is your happy ever after. You, your brother husband, your daughters and the rest of your family.

Happy, forever and ever.

---

Grrrr I can't write, but you better accept this gift (ﾉД`)

I'm the Kenjaku offering anon, here with another offering, this one being a bit better, probably. (The other one is still better, because it's Kenny <33)

/ariel_singing.mp3

ADFSHFDSAFHAFASHHHGSDAHGGDHGFSHGFDSHFSDHDSFGFDSHGAHGA!??!?"!"!?¡#?"!?!"$?"?!

POOKIE WHAT WHAT WHAT HWT WHATHWTHWHTWAHTHTRSKS!??#!#! YOU DID THIS FOR ME? OMG I'M PASSING OUT THIS IS SO GOOD GRHGRHGRHGRHAGARGAR--

equally doomed by the narrativesorcery siblings is NOT something i ever thought of THIS IS SO FUCKING SMART?!?!!?

suguru slowly stripping away reader's morals... selfishly carving her out into what he wants her to be, all for his own warped sense of reality and validation... both going just as insane together and now, they'll be together forever. 🩷🩷🩷🩷 AAAAA i'm passing out--

thank you so much for this, dear. 🩷 you're so nice and sweet for taking the time to write this for lil ol me's b-day! aaaaaa! 🩷 thank you thank you thank you!!

and yes....kenny supremacy. 🩷😍 my love my love my love my-