#but not until he gets his fill of being a star

[mandalhoerian]

childhood friends who became family, who blurred the lines of sibling-tight bonds and something softer, sharper, and more yearning — it's a trope that feels like sitting in the quiet hum of a summer evening when the sun lingers too long on the horizon. because the truth of it is: nothing lingers forever. and you both know that, but you’ll still talk about the old days like maybe you can bring them back. like maybe if you name the memories, you can summon them. like if you say, “remember when we built that fort in the back garden and swore to live there forever because i had a fight with gran,” it’ll mean something now that the garden has been bulldozed and forever has been whittled down to awkward meetings where you can't talk about the elephant in the room.

it’s the uneven ground of being the one who died and the one who was left behind, or the one who grew and the one who wanted to keep the other captured the way they used to be in a snowglobe — or maybe just the realization that you’re both standing on shifting sand now. you talk about the past like it’s a shared secret, but neither of you knows how to talk about the present. maybe you’ve started running out of things to say because the summer nights you used to fill with fun and games are quieter now, and you don’t know how to breach the distance between you that yawns exponentially bigger every single day.

because that’s the ache of it, isn’t it? thinking you’ve grown together, but ending up having grown apart in the blink of an eye. the ache of seeing his face and realizing you don’t know him the way you used to — not like when you could read the curl of his lips or the way he bit the inside of his cheek and know exactly what he was thinking. you still know the shape of caleb, the blueprint of who he was, but he's a house rebuilt in the same place, and you’re standing on the porch like a stranger.

and you miss the summers, the cicadas, sleeping on the floor together with the attic window wide open, sharing ice cream together and being carried because of a scraped knee. even being scolded you refused mosquito spray because you hated the smell. you miss the easy, endless days of being inseparable and being spoiled rotten because time didn’t mean anything then. now, every second feels like a countdown. you sit across from him at a diner, laughter ringing too alien because it doesn’t reach his eyes the way it used to, and you’re counting the minutes until he leaves for skyhaven. or maybe it’s until you leave, because isn’t that the worst realization? there's always a deadline. you tell yourself it’s enough that you were everything to each other once, and there's still something between you like the transition between summer to autumn. but there’s a kind of grief in knowing you’ll never be those kids again, barefoot in the grass, shouting at the stars.

grief. you thought you knew it well.

because you know how to grieve a death — you’ve rehearsed it in your head, folded it into something manageable. it’s a well-worn myth, a story you tell yourself when the silence gets too loud: he’s gone. he’s not coming back. you cried once, twice, a hundred times in the soft, gold-light glow of dusk, in the places you once knew together, and you thought that was the worst part.

but then caleb came back. and now you don’t know what to do with yourself.

because it’s him, isn’t it? same voice, same face, same hands that once shoved you playfully into the lake on a summer afternoon. he looks at you with eyes that are so painfully familiar you want to throw up, but something in them is off — like a song played just a fraction of a second too slow. like the ghost of a childhood home, walls the same but empty, the warmth gone.

you want to say, you’re different. you want to say, what happened to you? but all he says, over and over, with that too-smooth, too-homey certainty is, i’ve always been like this.

and that’s the part that burns. because no, he hasn’t. you would know, wouldn’t you? you spent summers mapping out the topography of his voice, the way it cracked when he laughed too hard, the way he whispered conspiratorial plans under the sheets when you were supposed to be sleeping. you knew his every restless fidget, every dream he had about taking you away to somewhete but never actually going through with it. you would know if this was always him. wouldn’t you?

but what if you’re the one who’s wrong?

the memories are there, but they feel like borrowed pages from someone else’s story now. he tells you, remember when we built a treehouse in the oak by the creek? and you nod, it's like he's trying to coax the sparks out. remember how you used to hum under your breath when you were nervous? and he smiles, but it’s an aching, tight thing.

so you sit there, across from him, trying to measure the distance between the boy you knew and the man wearing his face. he talks about the past like maybe he can drag you back to it. like maybe he can make you remember. but you're here, waiting for him to join you in the present.

but the worst part isn’t the change.

the worst part is the knowing that he’s still here. still breathing, still existing, still talking to you. and yet he’s light-years away with the you of the past.

[be-xkyy]

Tw: unprotected sex, rough sex, jealousy, mild abuse, insults, reader bimbo.

Yandere bf! Jock who is the star captain of the school's football team.

He is truly the golden boy.

With his gorgeous smile, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair. He is surrounded by girls constantly, beautiful girls but he only has eyes for his dumb cute cheerleader girlfriend, YOU.

Always sucking his dick before a game letting him film you as he cums all over your face, pumping his cock until ropes of thick cum paint your face ruining your makeup and staining your hair, he rubs his cock against your shiny lips.

“Ugh– that was so good– what do you say sweetie?”

“Thanks for cumming on my face daddy~”

He smiles when he sees you cheering him on during the game jumping up and down, he licks his lips when he sees your cute little ass and tits bouncing in that tight uniform, you wiggle your pom poms vigorously and blow him a kiss when you see him looking at you. So fucking sweet.

The one who fucks you in the empty locker room after every game, fucking you sweetly when he wins, sucking on your tits, leaving kisses and bites all over your neck as his cock buries deep inside you, he murmurs sweet nothings against your ear.

“Such a pretty girl– so sexy when she cheers on her man”

“God your pussy wants some attention, should I rub it? Of course she wants to fuck– she begs me to rub it”

“I'm gonna give you the best orgasm of your life babe, you'll be full of my cum until next week– Ha”

Oh... but when the team loses he's completely different.

Like now.

He drags you down the halls walking straight to the locker room pushing you inside roughly ignoring your whimper of pain as he locks the door, you rub your arm and try to talk to him “Baby that hurts–”

“Shut the fuck up bitch! What the fuck was that out there?! Were you flirting with the captain of the other team?!”

His voice is filled with anger, he looks at you with furious eyes and you try to back away when he gets closer which seems to annoy him more, he grabs you by the arms pushing you face down on the bench and growls against your hatred.

“Answer me fuck! What the fuck were you doing talking to him? Do you want to bounce on his dick just because he won? Huh?!”

“No! I just wanted to be nice–”.

“Liar! Shit you want to drive me crazy, is that it?! I'm not an idiot I know what I see!”

He yells at you not even letting you finish, he pulls down your extra shorts and panties hard scratching your legs, his hand quickly pulls out his cock the vein running through it is swollen and the weeping tip is red.

“I'm gonna fuck you until you come to your senses you stupid girl. There's no one like me! I'm the only one who would want a girl as dumb as you!”

With that he rams you in all the way, his cock touching your cervix and his balls slapping against your ass, he fucks you mercilessly as his hands squeeze your ass cheeks his fingers dig into your skin tomorrow you'll have bruises.

“Silly girl, acting like a whore... like she doesn't have her man watching her”

Annoyed murmurs escape his lips as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, you let out high pitched moans hiding your face in your arms, he fucks you like he wants to rearrange your insides. Your eyes roll back with each thrust that abuses your G-spot.

“Who’s the only one for you? Come on tell me who’s fucking you so good?”

He asks between gasps and grunts clearly getting close to the edge, your dumb brain takes a while to understand his question not being able to think of anything else but his cock deep inside your pussy, you reply between moans.

“You! You’re the only one for my daddy! You, you, you!”

“Good girl, at least you’re smart about something~”

Your walls clench at his words and you squeeze your eyes shut, your skin is hot and you feel fire in your veins, the orgasm is approaching and your toes curl as you cum your love juices wet his cock.

He growls as your walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock and as his body tenses with the impending orgasm he pulls out of your pussy pumping furiously as he explodes, covering your ass and back with his hot cum that stains your top.

“Shit— that was great, that's a nice pussy you have baby”

He says as he smears his cum all over your back and ass with his fingers and you hum tiredly but happily, the moment interrupted when someone tries to open the closed door, the handle turning vigorously.

“What are you doing in there? Open the door right now!”

Damn it, it's the coach...

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ INSTAGRAM UPDATE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 250130: Luna Day

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ luna's instagram

Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n, min9yu_k, sound_of_coups, and 9,635,725 others

lunabae 28 times the moon has whispered my name 🌙✨

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forever_jiyeon Happy Birthday, Luna!! 28 looks SO good on you! Wishing you all the happiness in the universe 💖

moonstruckbymoon Happy birthday, our pretty moon! Thank you for inspiring us every day!!

lunatics_united 28 moon phases and counting, and you’re still the brightest star in the galaxy! Love you, Luna! 🥺🌙

silvermoonluna Happy birthday to the one and only Bae Jiyeon! Cheers to another amazing year 🎂✨

han_luna_world HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUNA!! You’re magical, ethereal, and everything in between 🌙🤍

jeongnadaily Jeonghan’s post and the song??? I’m SCREAMING. You two are perfect 😭💕

↳ starrylovehan THE SONG ‘BETTER HALF’??!! And his caption?! his fucking caption?? I’m not okay 🥹

lunaxhanforever Jeonghan just broke the internet with that post and song! THE WAY HE LOVES YOU 😭🤍

Liked by lunabae, ho5hi_kwon, pledis_boos, and 9,777,111 others

jeonghaniyoo_n from 16 to 28, i’ve loved celebrating every birthday with you.

from the first birthday we celebrated together when you turned sixteen to now at twenty-eight, you’ve grown even more beautiful— inside and out. who would’ve thought we’d go from being strangers to friends, to best friends, to secretly crushing on each other like clueless fools, to finally dating, getting engaged, and planning forever together?

thank you for being the better half of me, the one who makes everything brighter and more meaningful. you’ve taught me what love really is, and i’m so grateful for you every single day. it felt only right to release a song for you today, on your day— a small piece of my heart written for the person who completes it. ‘Better Half’ is yours, just like i am.

thank you for letting me share in your light, for being my partner in our midnight birthday cake-eating rituals and for filling my life with endless love and laughter. let’s celebrate today and every day until we’re old and gray (and i’m still more handsome, obviously 😝).

another year older but still my prettiest moon. i love you endlessly.

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jxjforever WHATAFUCKHWYWGYEGS GOODBYE–

jeonghan_lover14 SIR. THE CAPTION. THE SONG. THE LOVE. I AM NOT OKAY. 😭😭😭

lunahanforever HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BREATHE AFTER THIS?!? This is the most romantic thing ever 😫

prettyboyjeonghan The fact he called her his ‘better half’ AND wrote a whole SONG for her??? LOVE IS REAL. 😭💕

moonlightedbyhan “Better Half is yours, just like I am.” JEONGHAN STOP I AM IN SHAMBLES 🥹🤍

↳ caratstarlight SAME!!!! WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS LEVEL OF ROMANCE? JEONGHAN, YOU WIN THE FIANCÉ OF THE YEAR AWARD 🏆

hanseverything Not me crying in the club over this caption. ALSO THE SONG?? I HONESTLY CAN’T 🫠

lunahan_together Midnight birthday cake rituals? Loving her since she was 16?? GET OUT OF HERE, YOON JEONGHAN 😭😭.

jiyeonieeeee_17 ‘Better Half’ is the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard, and the fact he dropped it for HER on HER day?? I’M DONE 😩

ot14carats HOW DARE YOU, JEONGHAN. This is TOO MUCH PERFECTION. The caption, the pictures, the song, the EVERYTHING 😭💕

lunabae i love you endlessly 🥹🤍

↳ jeonghaniyoo_n endlessly 🤍

caratmoonchild I’m sobbing uncontrollably. He loves her so much, and it’s SO OBVIOUS. THIS IS THE STANDARD 🥹💖

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

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Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav @billboard-singer @junhuisworld @caturdayvibe @coralbatlampzonk @sof1eya @lyraea @jihoonsbbygirl @cocopuff2424 @okoknotco @minvxq @soulphoenix1618 @whineywheeiny @rairaine @toplinehyunjin @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol @jiimtaee @blurr3db3rry @seomisaho @amanda08319 @peanutbutterslothsstuff @cheolsboo @allthings-fandoms @mystic-megumi @sherlockbye @tastyluvr @luperque @reignofraine @kpoplover-19

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

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Chapter 14

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with this post to be on the tag list. Read DNI/BYF first.

NOTE: I think we can all agree that Dion deserves to suffer at least a bit <3  (Just a bit <3)

Warnings: toxic marriage/relationship, general yandere themes, obsessive and possessive themes/behavior, jealousy, anxiety, implied/mentioned past child abuse/neglect, mention of murder, implied murder, slight blood, mention of drugs (sleeping pills), mention of past alcohol consumption, mention of alcohol poisoning. Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ECT.) DNI. 

= = =

It’s been two days since Dion Agriche indirectly told you that you’re his and that nothing will ever change that fact.

His proclamations only serve to make you feel like a possession. A pretty little songbird locked in a gilded cage, her ‘master’ unwilling to set her free. And the reason? To hear her sing until her last breath, voice hoarse and throat bleeding.

Sighing, you lean against the railing on the terrace, the light breeze flowing through your hair. The soft glow of the moonlight casts over the area, dark blue sky filled with twinkling stars. It’s peaceful. 

The heavy smell of outside and iron fills your senses, a quick frown tugging at your lips before forcing it away.

“You’re still awake.” 

Well, it was peaceful until a certain sadistic and horrible man draped a coat over your shoulders. You didn’t even hear the doors open, too lost in thought. Dion towers over you easily, and his presence is a nuisance. Unwanted.

He left for a mission earlier today yet he’s already back…

The warmth from the coat only makes you shiver, the blasted thing a ‘gift’ given to you by Maria on your wedding day. You frown when the man gathers your hair and brings it out from under the coat's collar, letting it float down over the material. His gentleness makes you sick.

“And you’re back,” you complain rather than state in a trembling whisper. You’ll never get used to this, to him. His gaze burns, and you’re unable to turn around to properly greet him. Not that you want to - everything about the man was repulsive - his face, his voice, his height, his name, even the color of his hair and eyes.

He makes you sick.

Another soft breeze as crickets chirp into the night. Below you, two servants walk, their hideous uniforms proudly worn. They look young - most likely in their early to mid twenties. One with dark brown hair and the other dark grey-ish. 

Your husband’s stare burns harsher the longer you look at the two young men. Even so, you don’t look away, even when he moves to stand to your right side, fingers brushing against yours. Like a puppy asking for attention. Despite horror filling your entire being, you don’t tear your gaze away from the two men below you, nor do you stop yourself from moving your hand away from him.

Maybe it was a small act of defiance - aka, showing Dion that you would rather look at any man that wasn’t him. Of course, you’ll come to regret this in the morning, but right now, you crave to interrupt his peace as he had done to yours. Even as your legs begin to buck under your weight.

Ignoring the pressure building in your temples and silencing your gulps, you hope that Dion doesn’t see through you immediately. Your mother would have a heart attack had she been here, witnessing her married daughter give more attention to  nameless men and not her arranged husband. 

Perhaps feeling eyes on them, both men look up, surprised to see as you smile oh so sweetly at them and wave. Ignoring the rapidly forming panic pulling at your heart strings, you watch as they blink before bowing, flustered as light pink spreads across the apples of their cheeks. 

Just two normal men.

“Good evening, My Lady!” They shout in unison. However, when they raise their heads, their cheeks go from pink to pale as their expressions twist into ones of terror. The reason is obvious, your husband wrapping an unwanted arm around your shoulders, gloved hand gripping the side of the left one tighter than necessary. You can only imagine the look he’s giving them.

They scamper off immediately, knowing better than to stay longer than necessary, knowing that greeting the Young Master would only aggravate him more, as the servants would get to look at you, his pretty wife, his possession, for longer.  

You feel bad now, forgetting for a moment that your husband is possessive.

“I’m right here yet you’d rather look at them?” His voice does a complete 180 -  voice once calm now filled with jealousy you can’t begin nor want to understand. You don’t answer. You look ahead of you, scared shitless once the reality of what you just had done hits you in full.

Am I trying to kill myself!?

The air feels colder, goosebumps forming on your skin. Despite the coat, you shiver. And while his stare burns hot, your blood runs cold. So close to curling into yourself, you blame the breeze for your trembling body.

It seems that cold sweats are a permanent thing for you now, biting the inside of your cheek as you break out into one. One hand gripping the front of the coat to hold it tighter against you, your fingers twitch as his gloved hand moves from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, and then up to the base of your head, fingers tangling themselves in your tresses. 

Soft and gentle, it reminds you of the scene where he asked Roxana the location of Cassis’ hiding place.

The memory quickly fades into the background as Dion leans down just enough to whisper in your ear. He’s very fond of doing so, apparently. So fond of it, that whenever the opportunity arises, he’ll take it.

And your body is becoming accustomed to his hot breath, lying to itself, saying it feels good just so you won’t break out into another panic attack. However, you can start to hear the blood rush in your ears, a small built up tear catching in your lashes. Is this all you’re capable of doing? Crying?

“You never look or smile at me so sweetly.” 

There is some resentment in his voice, but his tone doesn’t drip with it. “But you smiled at two random men who aren’t your husband?” His next sentence almost sounds betrayed, and it’s funny seeing how your husband had never done a thing to earn your sweetness. 

You can’t find your voice. 

You can’t force yourself to please him, either.

Nor can you turn away and walk into the room, throwing the coat to the floor. 

The only thing you can do is endure. 

And even then, you’re barely holding up.

“Even now you’re trying your best to ignore me.” He sounds tired - he should go to sleep. Go to sleep and leave you alone, like he should, but two days ago he imprinted himself fully onto you. In the most horribly way possible, nightmares slowly become reality as he refuses to set his eyes on another. 

“I never imagined that my wife could be so cruel,” he teases, lips almost touching your ear. You blink once, twice, before leaning your head away, unable to stand his body heat for much longer. Unable to endure his ‘affection’ for a second longer, shrugging off his arm and the tall male lets you go. Not without an emotion you wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint as it flashes in his eyes before he blinks it away had you seen it.

“I never imagined that my husband would be so horrible,” you blurt out without meaning to, wincing once your own words register in your brain after it’s too late. Your heart speeds up. Right hand forming a shaking fist, your nails break skin, the action not enough to distract you. 

You made a horrible and dangerous mistake. But it’s too late to take it back, sweat running down your temples. 

There’s a sting in your thumb and a crave for flesh in your mouth. Your toes curl in your soft slippers. The seconds feel like hours, waiting for his response, be it physical or verbal.

“You’re right - not that it changes anything.” He doesn’t waste a breath in agreeing with you.

Without another word, your husband guides you back into the room. He’s behind you, and curiosity has always killed the cat, which is why despite your fear, your shivering figure, you look over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Dion Agriche.

His scarlet eyes glow, the dark circles under them worse than they were two days ago, inky black hair that small clunks of dirt cling to, and smeared crimson blood across his face. When your gaze travels down, there’s also dirt and small specks of blood on his cloak, the article of clothing wrinkled.

He didn’t even bother to wash up.

Like the first thing he wanted to do - no need to do was see you. 

The sentiment is lost and ignored as you turn back around. Husband or not, you refuse to see Dion Agriche as anything else but a threat. That’s the only thing you know him as.

Had you looked back, you would have noticed Dion reaching into his pocket only to pull it back out after a thought. He watches as you remove the coat from your shoulders and hang it back up in the closet - out of sight, out of mind.

He hums.

Pointer finger taping against his pocket, he mulls over whether to give you the small jewelry piece in a little blue box he brought back, knowing it would look pretty on you. He decides not to in the end, knowing you wouldn’t accept it.

That’s usually how it starts.

- - -

“- it’s fine, really. No, no, it’s okay. I don’t mind looking after her for a few more days… Hm? Of course she behaves - (Name) is always a good girl.”

Your grandmother’s voice travels from the living room into the kitchen where you’re doing your homework. Pencil in hand, you keep rereading the question, only to repeat the process as the printed words look blurred and jumbled together. The grandfather clock goes off, telling you that it’s midnight. 

Your grandmother ends the call without asking if you wanted to speak to your dad.

Not that it matters - he always texts you a ‘good morning,’ at seven-am on the dot. Never failing to do it once, it always brings a smile to your face.

As it should.

Your grandmother doesn’t say anything as she heads up the stairs, leaving you to your own devices. And you do the same. A mutual agreement between grandmother and granddaughter. Love and affection were a curious and complicated subject.

Regardless, you stay in the kitchen, hearing dogs bark outside and beer bottles thrown to the ground, on an average ‘Saturday night’. You scribble something on the paper before erasing it only to repeat it again and again. By the time you solve the third question out of ten, the sun has come up, Sunday morning greeting you.

- - -

“Thank you for inviting me, mother-in-law.”

Maria had invited you for tea in her room, far from any prying eyes. Hana is right at your side, ready to receive any orders that either you or your mother-in-law may give her. Her expression is stern, not an ounce of emotion in those eyes of hers. 

So unlike the Hana that helped you get ready for the dinner with Dion and Lant three days ago. The Hana who showed some level of concern for you, who scolded two other maids while keeping her head leveled and not punishing them, assuming she had the power to do so.

“Oh, it’s no problem - as in-laws, we should bond and spend time together.” Her smile is far too bright and sweet for that… eccentric personality of hers. She continues, “besides, I heard that you were sick after the dinner with Lant. Was it food poisoning?” 

She genuinely looks concerned as she questions you, but it’s Maria; a snake that coils itself around its prey once the opportunity arises. And you’re already on that list, right behind Sierra in terms of ‘affection’ which your mother-in-law confuses for ‘mental torture.’ 

How aware the brunette is of this, you’re not sure. 

“O-oh… I just drank a little too much…,” your chuckle is awkward, eyes landing on your tea cup. Your smile feels strained.

 She startles you with a sharp gasp.

“So it was alcohol poisoning? (Name), dear, are you alright?” She hurries to your side like a loving mother, her gloved hands gently placing themselves on your shoulders. She doesn’t squeeze them, unlike her son. She doesn’t look at you with a need to own your entire being, either.

“O-oh, I’m fine now, I promise, mother-in-law.” Despite your practiced smile, her uneasy expression doesn’t leave her pretty and soft facial features. Her reaction reminds you of your mother’s the one time you accidentally ate a poisonous plant… wait, no, her reaction was much worse than this. 

“That Lant-!” You’re caught off guard when she curses her own husband, leaving her ‘unlovable’ son out of it. Like that dreadful sociopath wasn’t there.

You blink, unable to form words, watching as her expression morphe into one of frustration only to soften almost immediately when she locks eyes with you. Sweetly smiling at you, she threads her fingers through your hair. 

It feels like she’s trying to replace your mother.

The thought makes you sick.

“I’m sorry for acting out like that. Lant is usually careful with handing out alcohol - and while Dion can be…careless, he’s not used to drinking with others.” Pigs are flying in your old world, they have to be, because how and why is Maria standing up for the son she never wanted?

“It’s - it’s fine… it’s my fault for going past my limit.” You’re not lying, you really were careless about your intake of the bitter wine. You learned your lesson - you want to avoid waking up with a hangover again…

You want to avoid Dion ‘comforting’ and touching you.

“Still, he should have seen the tell-tell signs,” she sighs before turning to Hana. “What was your name again?” She questions your aide. Your heart drops.

Wait, didn’t she ask that same question to a maid she killed right after…?

“It’s Hana, my Lady.” She bows without a single change in her expression. No twitch of the eyebrow or lips. Her face remains stoic.

“Hana. What a pretty name. Now tell me, where were you when your Master got drunk?” Her voice is sweet but the question is threatening. Like the weakling you are, all you do is sit, hopelessly praying that Maria won’t lay a hand or harm Hana in any way or form.

“I was fixing up her room on Young Master’s Dion’s orders.” Her answer is direct, not once breaking eye contact with your extremely dangerous mother-in-law. 

“I see. Is Dion your Master?” 

“No, my Lady. I was put under Lady (Name) a bit after she arrived here.”

The interrogation goes on, and every second feels like an hour. The room must be hot since you’re almost drowning in sweat. You gulp as Maria continues.

“By who?”

“Young Master Dion, my Lady.”

While her answer should confirm some things, you’re too focused on her safety to soak in the information. Too worried that her head will roll right off her shoulders.

“Dion? I see. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that he carelessly gave my precious daughter-in-law such an incompetent maid.” 

SCREECHED!

“Mother-in-law, believe it or not, but Hana has been very helpful. It’s because of her that I’m adapting so well so quickly. You help too, of course.” 

You don’t remember getting up. You don’t remember gently grabbing Maria’s shoulders like a daughter showing  affection to her mother. You don’t remember smiling so brightly that it looks genuine, enough so that your personal maid looks surprised, already knowing how much you hate being here.

“She’s always at my beck and call - ready to serve me in the dead of the night, regardless if I dismissed her for the day. While one could say she went against my orders, personally, I see it as an act of loyalty.” Your words flow out smoothly, like you weren’t on the verge of breaking down sobbing.

You don’t know why you’re standing up for a maid who’s possibly spying on you for either Dion or Lant. A maid you barely know, much less considered as a ‘friend.’ A maid you have only known for a few weeks.

Most likely it’s because you don’t want to be introduced to a new one - it would be a waste of time, really. Hana already knows your habits with her keen eyes and senses. She knows what clothes and hairstyles look best on you. Her tea is delicious. Her excuses worked in your favor.

It would be a waste to replace her with a maid who might not even know what to do. 

That’s all it is.

“So please, don’t blame her - she thought she was doing the best for me, her Master.”

You don’t let go of her shoulders even when you’re scared shitless, worried you crossed a boundary even though she always crosses yours. You wait with baited breath for her response, hoping you didn’t fuck up big time.

“Well,” Maria turns around to face you, removing your hands from her person to hold them instead. “I suppose I can give her another chance. I only want the best for you.” 

After hearing her words, you can only think of and pity your husband. She cares more for a stranger than her own flesh and blood - a child she neglected and left in the hands of one of the worst people in existence. 

Pushing the thought away, your body relaxes a bit. “Thank you. I’m really grateful for you, mother-in-law.” It’s a lie but as she strokes your hair with tenderness you weren’t aware she could show to anyone aside from Sierra, you almost forget how crazy and brutal she is.

You almost forgot that this woman did not tend to her growing, lonely son as she should have.

“Anytime, (Name), anytime.” 

Your gut tells you that you only entangled yourself with this crazed woman more. 

- - -

“Hana, can you fetch me some sleeping pills? I think I’ll need them…” 

“Yes, My Lady. I’ll be back in a moment.” The events that transpired an hour ago aren’t mentioned, both parties silently and mutually deciding that it wasn’t worth it. Which is why Hana didn’t question you once you left Maria’s room an hour later, despite her curious gaze. 

Honestly, you’re still not sure why or how you did it.

With a sigh you kick off your heels once you reach the bed, head low, finding that lifting it would take too much effort. Last night you had to deal with Dion - today, it was Maria. The worst part was that the day hadn't ended yet, but you know for a fact if you didn’t request sleeping pills now you wouldn’t remember until Dion is ‘sleeping’ on your shared bed.

Landing on your stomach, your body lightly bounces on the comfortable bed. The scent of bergamot oranges soothes your nerves. Relieved, you nuzzle your head into your pillow, finally having a beautiful peaceful moment all to yourself in this fucking psychward.

 The ‘sugary’ voice of Maria is gone, anxiety about accidentally catching sight of one of her ‘dolls’ is out of mind. Dread that you might run into another one of your in-laws faded away the moment Hana opened the bedroom doors. Also, the fact you didn’t see Lant at all lifts your mood.

Not to mention that your horrible, frightful, perverted, annoying husband was nowhere in sight -

“You seem to be in a good mood.” A boyish voice fills the silence. 

…huh…?

Lifting yourself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the bed, you look towards the doors. You think you’re dreaming, for one, this person just waltzed into the room like nothing, clearly sneaking in right after Hana. The other reason is because the boy with leaves and goo in his hair is -

“Jeremy?”

= = =

Tag list: @tiny-mimi @pix-stuff @umi-adxhira @queenofspades403 @darkumbreon92 @manitscold @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[trombonechurchill]

Tidbit Tuesday!

Chapter Two of Watching the Credits is maaaybe 50% done so to celebrate here is a very silly part of it:

Buck is not likable. He's charming, in a way, he knows ("Like a fungus. You grow on people," Hen had helpfully explained one day.), but people need time to warm up to him and then, once they inevitably got their fill, they were done with him. And Tommy was a big mega star. Tommy's cool. Tommy has a Wikipedia page! Buck doesn't think he ego could handle being friend dumped by someone on Wikipedia. He should just cut his losses and run now. "I should just cut my losses and run now," He tells Eddie. "You won't get paid if you leave before shooting's over," Eddie offers. Buck hits him again. Things quickly devolve from there and Buck's saved from having to start finding creative uses for the fruit bowl to get Eddie to let him out of a headlock by the arrival of Hen. "Please don't make me kick the two of you out of here," she says, sweeping past them with a sigh and making a beeline for the coffee machine. She's got a pile of scripts in her hand which is never a good sign. The number of script revisions Hen has to do is always commiserate with the amount of patience she has left for the rest of them. And this batch looks like a doozy. "Buck's spiraling," Eddie says, pointedly ignoring Buck as he mouths 'tattle-tale' over Hen's shoulder at him. Hen hums for a moment, settling herself in an open chair before taking a long sip of coffee. Buck eyes her precariously balanced scripts nervously but waits until Hen swallows and raises her eyebrows in permission before starting to talk. "So, what are we overthinking today, then? I told you Athena already forgave you for the microwave thing. Mostly." "She did? No, I mean it's not that. You know Tommy?" Buck says, tapping his fingertips together before finally shoving himself into the camp chair next to Hen. He's never quite fit into them right, legs too long and shoulders too wide so he feels like he's folding up to match the rest of the lawn furniture, but he needs Hen's advice on this, needs to be on the level. Eye level or something. "Tommy. Tommy Kinard our leading man, Tommy?" Hen asks dubiously. "Uh yeah. That Tommy." "I'm familiar," Hen says flatly. "Okay, good. Great, even." "Is that it? Pop quiz about our cast over now? No offense, Buck, but some of us actually have real jobs on set today." Buck doesn't know how Hen manages to say emotionally damaging things so affectionately. Eddie mimes stabbing himself with a banana just out of Hen's eyeline.

no pressure tagging @leashybebes, @thatmexisaurusrex, @livelaughlou, @frogsinflannel, @kinardbegins, @fake-mouthstatic and @laundryandtaxesworld if you have something you wanna share!

[sareenthedreamer]

The Proposal

The Proposal

Art by: Thoraeth <3

Words: 1k

Summary: Toshinori Yagi finally proposes to you.

Laying in bed beside Toshinori in the warmth of your bed, you feel his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

“Would you come to the beach with me this morning to watch the sunrise?”

You crack your eyes open. Mornings aren’t your thing and the room was still dark. With a groggy voice you ask him what the time is.

“5 o’clock,” he said with a soft voice. “I know you aren’t a morning person.. but it would mean the world to me.”

“Really?” you ask with a groan.

“My plan would be so special for us… I want to see the first sun rays shine on your beautiful face. It’ll be worth it”

He has a plan. You sigh. He said it would mean the world to him. You grumble, “This better be amazing.”

There is an unmistakable excitement in his voice. “I can put on the coffee while you get ready, my beautiful.” He kisses you on the forehead before stepping out of the bed. You could hear him in the hallway humming as he went to the kitchen to put water on for your coffee.

You can’t help the smile on your lips, listening to him hum while reluctantly dragging yourself out of bed. About 25 minutes later you finally walk out of the bedroom.

Toshi dances up to you with a mug of coffee – your favorite blend with a drizzle of caramel added in for good measure.

Raising a brow, you take a sip out of the mug. It’s impossible to deny how much it warms your heart to see him filled with such happiness.

Gently taking your hand, he escorts you out of the house to his car, being sure to open the door and help you inside.

He knows how much I hate mornings… is this why he is being extra sweet?

He drives you to a beautiful beach just outside of the city. It’s still the wee hours of the morning and not another person is in sight. The stars are still visible in the sky.

He walks over to your side of the car, opening the door and offering you a hand as you step out with a smile.

The morning air is crisp, the faint scent of salt in its breeze. He places an arm around your shoulder as you walk together to the beach line. You can hear the rhythmic sound of waves crashing into the shore. You can see a light glow on the horizon.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were excited to be outside at this hour.” He grins, but it almost seems strained.

You yawn at him in response, silently cursing him for getting you out of bed so early. His simple joy makes it difficult to be too upset with him, though.

“Only because I’m with you, darling,” you tell him as you pull him close to you and rest your head against his chest. He wraps his arm around you, turning his head to look towards the east.

The horizon sparkles with the first rays of sunlight painting everything a beautiful golden color, bringing a magical feeling to the beach.

Toshinori lifts your chin with his forefinger and thumb until you are looking in his blue eyes. The reflecting sunlight only serves to make them look more intense. “I brought you here for a reason,” he said with a hint of vulnerability in his deep voice. With his free hand he wraps it around yours. “You’ve made every part of my life brighter. Even the parts I thought were broken. I have made my choice.”

There is a curious look in your eyes. “Your choice?”

Your heart begins to race, sensing an anxiousness around him that you don’t often see. Unspoken emotions are felt in his voice, unsteadiness and a soft gaze. Your attention focuses on him, drowning out the sounds of the early morning and the sights of the beach in your peripheral.

“To love you for all my days.”

His large hands cautiously reach into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box and you find yourself holding your breath at the sight. Is that what I think it is?

“I’ve been thinking about how to tell you….”

He kneels down on one knee with a reverent motion, his eyes never leaving yours and carefully opening the small box to reveal a beautiful ring inside reflecting the sun’s rays of light.

“… to tell you that you are my one. My love. My heart. My choice. My forever. Will you marry me?”

You can’t help but notice how perfectly the sunrise shines behind him. It’s as though the world itself paused for your answer, his heart laid bare before you and a look of hope and fear on his features. So vulnerable. So sincere.

Just like the waves onto the beach you felt your emotions crashing into you. You are stunned by the look of endless love in his eyes and your heart aches with affection for him. You reach out, your hands cupping his cheeks and tears stinging at your eyes as you nod at him. Your voice is barely above whisper as you finally manage to say, “Yes.”

The smile that lights up his face in that moment is one that you will never forget. It was so beautiful, the joy that was there could rival the sunrise itself. You bring your lips to his, sharing in an intimately tender kiss.

Rising to his feet, he slips the ring onto your finger with a surprisingly gentle touch before pulling you into his arms. Holding you tightly in his embrace you hear the steady beat of his heart.

The two of you stand there, wrapped in each other as the sun continues its ascent into the morning sky. Looking at you with misty eyes he whispers, “I’ll love you until the last sun sets, I promise you that.”

[28harryssunflower]

Hating you was easier: Part 2

Dating Harry Styles felt strange at first - like slipping on a pair of shoes that didn’t quite fit yet. After years of trading insults and petty pranks, shifting into something soft and unfamiliar was a challenge. The first few weeks were tentative, like you were both testing the waters. Neither of you was entirely sure how to act around the other without the constant tension you’d relied on for so long.

But then, slowly, it started to feel natural.

It began with small things. Harry would wait for you after class, leaning casually against the wall with that lopsided grin of his. He’d carry your books without being asked, and when you complained about it, he’d just laugh and call you stubborn. You started spending time together outside of class - at first in secret, not ready to face the inevitable onslaught of questions from your friends.

The first official date happened about a month after Harry returned to campus. It wasn’t anything extravagant. Just a late-night walk around the quad and milkshakes at the 24-hour diner off-campus. But you remembered every detail: the way he looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real, the way he teased you about always ordering vanilla but still let you steal sips of his chocolate, the way his hand brushed yours until you finally gave in and laced your fingers together.

You hadn’t planned on kissing him that night, but when he walked you back to your dorm and leaned against the doorframe, looking at you with that mix of shyness and confidence, you couldn’t stop yourself. The kiss was soft, tentative, but it left you breathless.

Being with Harry was different from anything you’d experienced before.

He wasn’t the person you’d built him up to be in your head all those years - the arrogant, insufferable boy who lived to torment you. Instead, he was kind, thoughtful, and surprisingly self-aware. He’d been working on himself since the night in his dorm, attending therapy and cutting back on drinking. He opened up to you in ways you never expected, telling you about the pressure he felt to live up to everyone’s expectations and how he used his cocky persona as a shield.

“I didn’t hate you, you know,” he admitted one night as you lay on his couch, his arm draped over your shoulders.

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t. You just… you made me feel things I wasn’t ready to deal with. So I lashed out. I was a total dick to you, and I’m sorry for that.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart twisting. “I wasn’t exactly innocent, you know. I gave as good as I got.”

“Yeah, but I deserved it,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “I’m glad you didn’t let me get away with my crap. You’ve always been good at keeping me in check.”

The rest of the semester flew by.

You spent more time in Harry’s dorm than your own, studying together late into the night or binge-watching your favorite shows. He made you laugh like no one else could, always finding new ways to tease you in that affectionate, playful way you’d come to love.

Your friends were shocked when they found out about the two of you. Niall, of course, wasn’t surprised - he’d seen the shift in Harry long before you had. “I always knew you two had chemistry,” he said with a wink, earning a groan from both of you.

The biggest surprise was how easy it felt to be with Harry. For so long, you’d seen him as the enemy, someone you could never imagine being vulnerable with. But now, you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

One evening, you found yourself sitting on a picnic blanket under the stars, the faint hum of campus life in the distance. Harry had dragged you out of your dorm, insisting that you needed a break from studying. He’d brought a basket filled with snacks and a thermos of hot chocolate, and you’d spent the last hour talking about everything and nothing.

As you lay on the blanket, staring up at the sky, Harry turned to you, his expression soft. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice quiet.

“Dangerous,” you teased, earning a playful nudge.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone more serious now. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. “Do you ever think about… us? Like, what this is?”

You swallowed, your heart skipping a beat. “I think about it all the time,” you admitted.

He smiled, a little shyly, and reached for your hand. “I want this to be real,” he said. “I mean, it already is, but… I don’t want to tiptoe around it anymore. I want everyone to know how much I care about you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stared up at him. “Harry…”

“I’m not perfect,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve messed up a lot, and I know I don’t deserve you, but-“

“Stop,” you interrupted, sitting up and cupping his face in your hands. “You do deserve me. And I deserve you. We’ve both been through a lot, but… I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes glistening. “I love you,” he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Then, with a shaky smile, you whispered, “I love you too.”

He kissed you then, slow and deep, as if he were trying to pour all his feelings into that one moment. And as you sat there under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but think that maybe all the years of fighting had been worth it - because they’d led you here.

To him.

[theemporium]

i have something feral and unhinged to say about the nicojack frat au …

nico & mrs. p both fucking jack into oblivion, maybe she goes first and fucks him with the strap in missionary, one hand on his aching dick until he’s whimpering and cumming so hard, and thats when nico flips jack over and pushes in, filling him up quick with every ridge and vein of his warm cock until jack is whining. then he makes jack eat their gf out while he’s getting fucked 🥰

PLEAAAASE!!! we love feral and unhinged on this blog👹

and it could go two different ways!!

like either this is after jack has been such a wee brat, pushing nico's buttons and testing mrs p's patience until they eventually give him their full attention and fuck him thoroughly like he has been begging for

or maybe this is when jack is feeling kinda insecure or just a little down. like especially early on in their relationship, he kinda gets in his own head about being the 'added' aspect of their relationship and nico and mrs p just fuck him so good to prove a point that he is theirs now. not just some added after thought. that he is their boyfriend and they are gonna fuck him good and make him see stars and whisper sweet nothings to him after when he is tucked between them in bed, all fucked out and sleepy and content

[fruitsboots]

The angel on my shoulder wants to ask about the coffeshop au, but the devil wants to know about the weed one

Dealers choice 😅

poor coffeeshop au, you were supposed to be finished no later than New Years....

so coffeeshop AU is a TOS holiday-ish fic that is going to be McKirk to McSpirk.

Spock works as a physics professor at a university, but his old friend Pike asked him to come help work weekends at his coffeeshop until the holidays are over since he knows Spock doesn't really have a social life.

while working at the coffeeshop, Spock meets a very handsome Jim Kirk who owns a bookstore down the street and comes in and orders something very complicated every Friday afternoon. Every Sunday morning, a snarky Doctor McCoy comes in and orders black coffee.

Will Spock ever get the complicated order right? Will the three of them ever meet up? Will I ever actually finish this fic? All great questions that I'll have to write so you find out.

--

As for weedfic, it's TOS where the crew is going down on shoreleave but the trio are staying behind. Due to the smell of a candle Jim got as a gift, he's feeling nostalgic for the like 3 times he smoked weed with his brother as a teen. After talking to McCoy about it dramatically, the good doctor procures some weed and they proceed to have a nice time hanging out in the arboretum.

This one's in my current working rotation but I'm not really sure where I'm going with it lol. It was supposed to be lighthearted and silly but sort of turned more intimate and poetic which is fine! Big snippet of weedfic under the readmore <3 Thanks for the ask! Maybe this will motivate me to write lol

CW: Drugs

It started with a candle.

A gift from Uhura on his birthday, specially ordered and crafted with him in mind to remind him of Iowa.

The candle itself was simple in design, a cream colored wax with three wicks in a heavy, dark orange colored glass holder. The scent was the thing that was truly special about it.

Crisp and earthy like a late autumn night. The slight dusty smell of dried corn. A hint of sweetness. A touch of smoke.

As soon as he sniffed the candle, memories of Jim’s younger years wove together into a soft tapestry. First kisses and raking leaves. Libraries and school dances. Truck beds and corn fields.

Truck beds and corn fields.

Sam and Sam’s handsome friend pulling up to the house, beat up red pickup truck caked in mud up to the windows in the middle of the night and don’t be a loser Jimmy, it’s not sneaking out if mom and dad aren’t even on the planet. Holding on for dear life, tossed around in the bed of the truck as it swerves recklessly through a harvested cornfield that they definitely shouldn’t be in but it’s alright because Sam says it is and rules can be broken sometimes. Broken rules like passing a joint and chilly air, he should’ve brought his gloves but the smoke fills his lungs and warms him from the inside. Hot, too hot. Coughing in chorus with laughter, a sheepish grin, he’s not going to let on that he’s nervous for the drug’s effect.

Slow then slower. Time slowing down. Thoughts slowing down. Laying down, corrugated plastic pressed into his back. Endless sky, endless stars. Galaxies swirling in his head.

Jim found himself lingering on that particular memory days after receiving the gift. Though he’d refused to light it, he’d occasionally bring the candle to his nose, eyes closed, and try with futility to grasp onto the bittersweet feeling of being sixteen again.

“Y’know, if you lit it you could smell it better. Rather than shoving your entire nose into it.”

Jim pulled the candle away from his face and placed it back on the shelf by his bed. They should be sleeping, but goodnight kisses had turned to something more and now it was late. Jim turned towards the bed where Spock looked more than halfway asleep already, lying on his back with a naked McCoy pressed to his bare side.

“If I did that, it wouldn’t last,” Jim said with a tired smile. “Feels like I should wait. Some special occasion to light it or something.”

“For candle that smells like a hog farm?” McCoy joked. “We’ll have to make sure to break it out the next time we have a good ol’ fashioned barn raising.”

Jim laughed softly, but the comment hit him in the heart. He hesitated before speaking.

“Have you ever tried cannabis?”

The question hung in the air for a moment with only the sound of Spock beginning to snore softly as McCoy raised an eyebrow.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he tried to sit up but the sleeping Vulcan’s arm held him tighter.

“Answer the question, Bones” Jim countered, going to squeeze into the bed next to McCoy. “Computer, lights to 10%.”

The magenta glow of the room dimmed gradually, leaving them in almost-darkness.

“Oh, come on Jim, I’ve told plenty of stories about my mama. What d’you think she would’ve done if she’d caught me smoking weed like some kinda hooligan?”

Jim pressed his face against McCoy’s shoulder and smiled, letting his eyes close. “Hmm…so how many times?”

“…four or five,” the doctor answered honestly. “First few times I don’t think I did it right, nothing really happened except I nearly coughed up a damn lung. That or my friends were pulling a prank on me.”

“And after that?” he felt Spock’s arm twitch between them. Jim leaned away to let Spock readjust, McCoy now free to turn to face him.

“Mm, I don’t really remember, it was a long time ago. Kinda remember getting paranoid and listening to some 22nd Century neo-classical, but those might have been separate times.”

Jim chuckled at the thought and gently rested an arm over McCoy’s waist. “Would you try it again?”

In the dim light, he could see the furrowed brow paired with a quirked smile. “What’s all this about, Jim? You’ve been acting particularly wistful the past few days.”

So McCoy had noticed. Jim supposed that he was usually good at hiding his frequent ‘moods’, not wanting to come across as anything other than the steady, even-keeled captain.

“Nothing, it’s just,” Jim sighed, fidgeting slightly. “You know how I get around my birthday. Just…thinking of the passing of time. She’s a cruel mistress….an hourglass of sand, unable to be turned back over—”

“Jim, it’s late, spare me the monologue.”

[aylacavebear]

Bloodlines & Fate Chapter 1

Being Touched should have been a blessing—a mark of honor in your lineage, celebrated by your pack since childhood. But to you, it's always made you feel like an outsider, never really fitting in anywhere. Yeah, you had your best friend Jess, but for you, something always felt like it was missing. The land your pack runs on during the full moons brings you a sense of peace you don't fully understand, at first.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

Word Count: 4356

Warning: Angst, longing. Not much that I can think of.

A/N: So, a couple characters in this one I pulled from a couple other shows. Professor Rober Zimmerman is based off of The Doctor from Star Trek Voyager as I absolutely love that character. And, Professor Alaric Saltzman from The Vampire Diaries. Another loved character.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

“God, Mom,” you muttered as she twisted your hair into a neat braid, her hands working with practiced ease. “I’m so done with this. It’s been six months since I presented, and it’s been non-stop alphas and their parents since. I can’t keep doing this—I need a break.”

“Sweetie, I know,” your mom said, her voice soothing but worn. “You’ve been so patient. Just one more week, and you’ll get the break you deserve. Everyone knows you need it.”

Her words were meant to calm you, but they only added to your irritation. How could anything think this was sustainable? At first, the idea of meeting your soulmate had filled you with cautious excitement. But after two solid months of awkward introductions, forced smiles, and watching alpha after alpha recoil at your scent, the novelty had worn off. Now, it was exhausting, and even your schoolwork had started to slip.

That thought made something click. Narrowing your eyes, you turned toward her. “Wait a minute. This is about my grades, isn’t it? My tutor said something to you, didn’t he?” 

Your mom froze for a moment before letting out a long sigh, her hands falling to her sides. “Yes,” she admitted, her tone tinged with guilt. “He told us your grades were slipping, and we all agreed you needed time to reset. The pack is just trying to help you, honey. No one wants you to feel like this any longer than you have to.” You inhaled deeply, holding back a biting retort. She wasn’t wrong—your pack always looked out for one another. You’d seen firsthand what it was like for wolves who had to wait too long to find their soulmates. Your cousins were living proof. Twins, like their mates, they hadn’t met them until their late twenties. You remembered the strain it put on them, how restless and incomplete they’d been until fate finally stepped in.

Still, the constant parade of alphas was suffocating. “Fine,” you said, standing up and crossing to the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, the simple purple dress draping neatly over your frame. The lace trim along the hemline was delicate, almost fragile, like the image your pack was so determined to project for you.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you muttered. It was an image that felt like a lie, but you kept that to yourself.

Your mother gave you a sympathetic smile but didn’t press further. She followed as you left your room, descending to the living room where the introductions would take place.

Three of your cousins—tall, broad-shouldered alphas—and two of your uncles stood like sentinels behind the couch, their imposing figures a silent warning to anyone who thought about stepping out of line. You took your place in the middle of the sofa, your mother at your side while your father greeted the family at the door. 

The young alpha they brought barely crossed the threshold before his nose wrinkled in disgust. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as he stumbled back, mumbling an excuse before retreating with his parents.

The next four families fared no better. Each time, the alphas visibly recoiled at your scent, their discomfort impossible to hide. Your pack had long since grown used to it, but outsiders couldn’t seem to stomach it. By the time the last family left, you were seething.

You stormed upstairs, yanking the dress off and tossing it into the back of your closet without a second thought. Pulling on jeans, a tank top, and sneakers, you slipped out the back door, desperate for air and solitude.

All you wanted to do was go to the land and hide in that cabin where you always sat to watch the full moon. Somehow, it brought you comfort, and for some reason, you didn’t feel so lonely. Since that wasn’t an option, the area behind your home of dense forest would have to suffice. 

Your cousins followed at a respectful distance, knowing better than to crowd you when you were like this. Wolves were social, drawn to comfort and connection. You, however, were different. Your feline instincts demanded solitude, and when cornered, you lashed out. You’d done it before, unintentionally, but the lesson had stuck.

The late summer air was warm, but the forest canopy above offered shade, the dappled sunlight creating patterns on the soft earth beneath your feet. The songs of birds filled the silence, soothing your frayed nerves.

Flexing your hands, you extended your claws, the sharp tips glinting faintly in the light. With a quick leap, you scaled the nearest tree, your claws finding purchase in the bark. You pushed higher, moving from branch to branch until you were far above the ground, where no wolf could follow.

Settling into a comfortable nook, you leaned against the trunk, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Up here, surrounded by the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life below, the tension in your chest eased. It wasn’t where you wanted to be, but it would suffice, for now.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of gold and amber, you stayed in your perch, watching until the last traces of daylight faded. Only then did you climb down, your heart heavy with the knowledge that tomorrow would bring more of the same.

—--------------

That entire week felt like a waking nightmare, even though the alphas’ and their parents’ faces provided fleeting amusement. You’d learned to find humor in their disgusted expressions—it was easier than giving in to the ache threatening to break you. Tears would only worry the pack, and you’d do anything to avoid that. But no matter how much you masked it, your parents could sense the strain in your scent. That’s why they’d agreed to spread out the meetings, though it didn’t erase the sheer volume of introductions still looming over you.

By the end of that week, you were ready to tear your hair out. The blue dress you’d worn was discarded onto the closet floor, forgotten as you flung open drawers and started packing for the cabin. “Sweetie,” your mother’s voice came softly from the doorway, her worry laced with the gentle tone she reserved just for you. “We can smell how frustrated you are, even downstairs. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Her concern made your throat tighten, but you swallowed it down, shoving a pair of sneakers into your bag. “I just… I need to go to the cabin. I always feel better there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

She nodded, not pressing further, and slipped away to give you space. Alone again, you exhaled shakily, willing yourself to calm down. It wasn’t the pack’s fault—not really—and you hated the idea of burdening them more than you already had. When you finally descended the stairs, your emotions were tethered just tightly enough to avoid questions. “I’m ready,” you said simply.

Your cousins and uncles flanked you in a protective semi-circle, the weight of their presence both reassuring and stifling. Outside, they divided into two vehicles for the drive to the land. It was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of the road beneath the tires, and you found yourself counting the minutes until you’d be alone again.

The land’s familiar sights greeted you like an old friend as the cabin came into view, nestled among the trees. A few families lived here year-round, tending to things between full moons, but for the next two days, the cabin owned by your parents was yours alone. They wouldn’t arrive until the full moon itself, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

After exchanging farewells with your uncles and cousins, you stepped into the cabin, the air inside cool and still. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you let out a long, unguarded sigh. Finally, some breathing room. The tension in your chest began to unravel, bit by bit. No alphas, no schoolwork, no forced smiles, and mostly no responsibilities for a full five days, six if you were lucky. 

As you unpacked, your mind wandered back to when you were twelve, when your parents finally explained just how different you were. It was late afternoon after school, the golden sunlight slanting through your bedroom window as you hunched over your desk, pencil tapping rhythmically against the math assignment your tutor had left you. The work was dull, the equations uninspired. You were eager to finish and move on to the bonus problems—challenges that always seemed to hold your attention far better than the standard curriculum.“Sweetie,” your mother’s voice came softly from the doorway, interrupting your focus. “Your father and I need to talk to you.”

Without glancing up, you murmured, “I’ll be down in a sec.”

You finished the equation you were working on before making your way downstairs, feeling the weight of something unspoken settle over you as you descended. The air in the living room felt heavier than usual, and as you rounded the corner, you found your parents seated on the couch, their hands clasped tightly together. You hesitated before taking a seat across from them in one of the recliners.

They exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Their expressions were a mix of joy and apprehension, a strange duality that only made your chest tighten with unease.

Your mother was the first to speak, her voice trembling slightly. “You have a genetic mutation,” she began, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. “You’ve learned about it in your studies, but… there are things we need to explain. Once you present omega, you won’t be able to shift during the full moon.” Her words were gentle, but you could see the tears she was trying to keep from falling.

The words landed heavily, but she pressed on, her tone gentle. “We know that’s going to be hard for you, but you’ll always be on the land during full moons, and we’re hoping that will help.” Her voice wavered as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

Your father leaned forward, his voice steadier but tinged with an unspoken sadness. “The pack will be there for you, always. Having the Touched mutation is rare—rare and special. After your soulmate finds you and you have pups, they’ll be immune to many illnesses and disorders. That’s something no one will know until they’re tested.”

Some of this wasn’t new to you. You’d pieced together bits and pieces over the years, but the mention of immunity caught your attention. Curiosity flared, and you made a mental note to ask your tutor about it during your next lesson. 

“That’s kinda neat,” you admitted, your tone cautious. “But… why does it seem like there’s a bad side to all this?” 

Your parents exchanged another look, heavier this time, before your father sighed. “Your scent,” he began carefully, “will be unpleasant to others. The only one who will find it pleasing will be your soulmate. Once you present, we’ll set up meetings with alphas and their families. Until your soulmate comes, that’s the best we can do. But After he claims you with his mark, everything will change. You’ll be able to smell the scents of others and their emotions in their scent. You’ll be able to shift during the full moon, and…” your father trailed off at the end, like it was something he didn’t fully want to discuss.

You looked at him, a little puzzled, and tilted your head in curiosity, but your mother chuckled and continued. “You’ll have your first heat, like a normal omega.”

Your eyes went wide, but you giggled. To him, you were still his little girl and he didn’t want you to have to grow up too fast. “I think I’ll be okay. I have Jess and my whole pack.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues as you leaned against the cabin window, exhaling slowly. God, I was so naive back then. It had only been two and a half years, but it felt like a lifetime.

You still hadn’t figured out why being on the land soothed something deep inside you. At first, you’d blamed it on nature, then on the full moon itself, but neither explanation ever quite fit. You’d been here before, between moon cycles, and it hadn’t felt the same. And that one month you hadn’t been on the land for the full moon? Watching from your bedroom window hadn’t brought that same comfort, either. It was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

There was one rule that only applied to you: Stay inside at night. No one had ever explained why. You’d justified it in your own way—telling yourself that your pack didn’t want you to feel left out, that they wanted to protect you from the pain of what you couldn’t have. It had been an easy enough excuse to follow.

Two days later, your parents arrived, along with nearly ten other families. The land was alive with movement and laughter as everyone settled in. You’d helped prepare for the feast the night before, making sure there was plenty of food to fuel the wolves through their shift. These gatherings were some of your happiest moments—when the pack came together like this, when the air buzzed with excitement and belonging.

As the sun set, the pack split off into their groups. Bonded pairs disappeared into the trees. Young, unbonded alphas followed their mentors in another direction. Unbonded omegas went with two haunted pairs to run together, singing to the moon, playing in the forest. Their voices carried through the air, weaving into the night like an ancient melody.

You lingered inside, curling up in the window seat, watching the moon rise. Soon, the howls began—a symphony of voices, familiar and reassuring. But as you listened, a sharp ache settled in your chest. This was why you endured the meeting with the alphas and their parents. This was why you played along with your family’s plans. Only your soulmate could wake your wolf, could bring her to the surface, and make you whole.

But tonight felt… different. 

The pull had always been there—this urge to step outside, to belong—but it had never been this strong. A shiver ran down your spine, and before you realized it, you were standing at the cabin door, fingers curled around the handle. You swallowed hard, breath uneven. The logical part of you screamed to step back. But curiosity had always been your downfall.

The warm night air of summer softly kissed your skin as you closed your eyes and breathed deeply the scents of earth and pine. Being outside felt freeing, far more than just being on the land itself. Then, something stirred. Not around you—inside you. It wasn’t a voice, not quite. More like an instinct, an awareness humming beneath your skin.

Your feet moved before you could second-guess yourself. You knew where your pack was, could feel their presence even from here. And yet, you walked in the opposite direction, toward the trees.

When you finally stopped, moonlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground in silver. It was quiet—only the rustling of leaves and distant sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the space.

A warmth washed over you as that gentle stirring inside you grew strong. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back and let out a soft, wavering howl. 

It felt right. Natural

It was a song of loneliness, of longing to belong, of love for your pack. Of the ache that came with not being able to be like them. As your voice faded into the night, a tear slid down your cheek, and you brushed it away with a shaky breath.

Then, another sound.

Your body went rigid. A howl—low and resonant, answering yours from somewhere beyond the fence line. Goosebumps erupted across your skin. It was an alpha. Young. Close.

Fear slithered up your spine. The land was enclosed, meant to keep outsiders away, yet the sound sent a warning thrumming in your bones. Shit, my parents are gonna kill me. You turned on your heel and hurried back to the cabin, heart hammering. The second the door clicked shut, you locked it.

The next two nights, you fought that pull. It was a battle that left your body tense, your chest aching in ways you hadn’t expected. On the third night, you gave in—going back to that spot, one last song to the moon before knowing you’d be going home soon. 

And again, he answered.

Both times, after your song faded into the night, the alpha howled in return.

You didn’t tell your parents. Didn’t tell your pack. If they knew you weren’t following their one rule, you worried they might forbid you from coming to the land at all. There was only one person you could trust with this secret. Jess. Even if she was younger, even if she might not understand completely—she was your best friend. And right now, you needed her more than ever.

Midway through the week, you had Jess over after she’d gotten out of school, desperately needing to tell someone. However, the moment you finished sharing what had happened, you wished you had perhaps kept some of the details to yourself.

Jess practically vibrated with excitement. “Wait. WAIT. So you just stood there, all alone in the dark, and howled? And then he howled back?!”

You nodded.

She clutched her chest. “That is the coolest thing I have ever heard!”

You blinked. “Really?” “Yes! It’s like—like one of those epic adventure stories! Like, you’re this lost princess with a secret power, and he’s the mysterious stranger who—” She stopped mid-sentence, wrinkling her nose. “Ew, wait, no, never mind. That sounds romantic. Gross.” You snickered.

“But still!” Jess leaned in, practically bounding. “What if he’s part of, like, some secret rival pack? Or an exiled prince? Or—ooh!—what if he’s some ancient spirit haunting the land?!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You read way too many books.” “And you don’t read enough!” Jess grinned. “Okay, so what’s the plan? Are we investigating? Do you think he’ll howl next full moon? Are you gonna howl back?!”

You hesitated.

Jess’s grin faded. “Wait… you are gonna howl back, right?” You swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet.” Jess scoffed. “Well, I know. Next time, I’m coming with you.”

You stared at her. “You can’t. You know you aren’t allowed on the land till you present.” Jess pouted. “So? I’ll sneak in your suitcase.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god.” Jess cackled. “This is gonna be awesome.” It wasn’t until a week later, during one of your lessons, that you decided to ask your tutor some questions. You’d spent days carefully figuring out how to word them—how to ask without giving away too much. The last thing you needed was for your tutor to tell your parents.

“So… about Touched,” you began, keeping your tone casual as you pretended to focus on the notes in front of you. “I know they can’t shift during the full moon, and then there’s all that scientific stuff about their genetics, but… is there anything about singing to the moon? Or being able to feel their wolf? Oh—could any of the ones before ever feel, like, a pull toward something?”

The words tumbled out faster than you intended, and when you finally looked up, Professor Robert Zimmerman was watching you with a measured expression.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, then closed the book he’d been teaching from. “There are a few things that have been documented,” he admitted. “I can ask about getting a copy of those records if you’d like to learn more about your mutation,” His voice carried that familiar, steady patience—the kind that always made you feel safe about asking questions, no matter how strange they were.

Excitement flared in your chest. “Please?”

His mouth twitched into one of those small, rare smiles. “I’ll have those for you by Monday. I promise.”

You grinned, barely containing your anticipation as he shifted the lesson back to history. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept drifting—Monday suddenly felt like a lifetime away.

Monday couldn’t get there fast enough for you, and it felt like you were crawling the walls, even when you’d go outside and try to distract yourself. The appointments with meeting alphas had finally dwindled to only after school and only three times a week, with only two families showing up on those days. It helped, but you weren’t getting your hopes up anymore. Most of your pack found their soulmate anywhere from the time they presented up until they were in their mid-twenties. So, you had time and decided not to stress over it anymore. Jess did her best to keep you distracted, filling your afternoons with stories from her school—complaints about teachers, dramatic playground politics, and, most importantly, just how disgusting boys were. That always made you laugh, and part of you missed not getting to experience it with her. Although, you knew you’d miss Professor Zimmerman and all the fun things he gave you to learn. 

By Sunday night, the anticipation was unbearable. You buzzed through your nightly chores, barely able to keep still. So much so that both your parents noticed and debated asking about it when you hugged them goodnight. When you finally crawled into bed, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. I seriously need to get some sleep. The thought felt like it was on repeat in your head for hours before the depths of sleep found you.

When the doorbell rang at 8:30 the following morning, you dashed toward it, no longer able to keep your excitement contained. Your smile faded to one of confusion and curiosity when you saw an alpha standing next to Professor Zimmerman, tilting your head slightly. “Y/N, this is Professor Alaric Saltzman. He keeps the records you asked me about and he refused to let them out of his sight. So, he’s here to supervise you while you go through them,” Professor Zimmerman explained.

Professor Saltzman chuckled at your expression, but it was clear that your scent bothered him. “We can do it outside, so my scent doesn’t bother you,” you offered, catching the way he subtly controlled his breathing despite his best efforts to hide the discomfort.

“I’ll be alright.” he tried to reassure you with a genuinely friendly, albeit, amused smile.

You stepped aside to let them in, your parents now lingering near the living room. Greetings were exchanged, but you barely acknowledged them, your focus entirely on the files Professor Zimmerman carried as he headed toward the spare room that had been turned into your classroom. You were hot on his heels, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

“These aren’t the originals. They’re copies, but nothing has been redacted,” Professor Zimmerman explained as he set the files on the table in front of you. “Be careful with them, though.” You nodded quickly and pulled the first file closer, your fingers tingling as you carefully flipped it open. The sheer amount of information stunned you. There were far more records than you expected, each documenting a Touched in your lineage—one file for each of them.

Professor Saltzman eventually joined Professor Zimmerman near the whiteboard, the two quietly talking while you lost yourself in the files. Their conversation faded into background noise.

“Is she always this curious?” Saltzman asked, arms crossed as he watched you absorb every word on the page.

Zimmerman exhaled with something between amusement and pride. “Her appetite for knowledge is almost insatiable. She’s asking questions most seniors don’t even think to ask. Sometimes, it’s difficult to keep her engaged because she gets bored so easily.”

Saltzman was quiet for a moment before offering, “If you ever need anything, just ask. It’s rare to find a student who genuinely enjoys learning.”

Zimmerman smiled, “Thanks. She’ll appreciate that. If she keeps this up, she’ll graduate by her sixteenth birthday.”

You barely registered their words as you combed through each record, your focus sharpening when you started noticing patterns. By the fourth file, the similarities were impossible to ignore—so you shifted tactics, scanning for key phrases.

And then, your breath caught.

Every single one of them—every Touched before you—had met their soulmate for the first time when he was in wolf form. Never before.

A  shiver ghosted down your spine, your entire body breaking out in goosebumps. You leaned back in your chair, fingers absently tracing the edge of the page as your mind raced.

Did your parents know this? Had they ever read these files? Should you tell them? Or let them keep setting up meetings, oblivious to the truth?

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Fourteen felt too young to be thinking about a soulmate. The idea of it felt… overwhelming. Maybe even a little terrifying.

But another thought crept in, quieter.

If your parents never read these, maybe that meant you still had time. Maybe it meant you could hold onto being just you for a little while longer. With a slow exhale, you closed the file and looked up at Professor Saltzman. “Thank you, for bringing.” You hesitated, then asked,  Have my parents read them?”

He raised an eyebrow but softened at your expression. “You’re welcome. No, they haven’t. Would you like me to suggest that they do?”

You considered it for a long moment before shaking your head  “No. It’s okay.”

Saltzman nodded, retrieved the files and offering a final, knowing glance before saying his goodbyes. Once he was gone, you turned your attention to Professor Zimmerman as he began your daily lessons. 

He didn’t ask you about the files. He knew better. This had been your request—when you were ready to talk about it, you would. But even as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept circling back, over and over.

An alpha had answered your song.

And now, you weren’t sure how you felt.

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[techhiz]

Beneath the Stars.

The night settled over the Malto home, with the stars twinkling brightly in the sky, as though the universe was holding its breath. Inside the base, the kids had been tucked in for the night, each of them finding comfort in their respective corners of the house. The warmth of the lights in the living room created a cozy ambiance, one that felt far removed from the dangers outside, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that something in the air had shifted.

The conversation with Megatron earlier was still replaying in your mind. He had been so... open with you in a way you never expected. The way he had expressed his admiration for how you treated the Terrans, how he saw you as a protector—a role you were proud to fill. It made your spark flutter, but the sudden realization of his words lingered in the back of your mind.

That soft confession, wrapped in a sense of longing…

You glanced out of the window, seeing Megatron standing outside by the edge of the Malto base, looking up at the stars. His broad frame stood silhouetted against the moonlight, his posture stiff yet oddly serene.

"How does he do that?" you murmured to yourself, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips.

The gentle hum of the base’s energy systems was the only sound you could hear as you walked quietly toward the door. You stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your faceplates.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence.

Megatron turned toward you, his optics locking onto yours. "I suppose I could," he replied, his tone teasing but with an edge of sincerity you couldn’t ignore. "But I do believe it is far more pleasant to be in your company."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Megatron, the feared ex Decepticon leader, was speaking to you like this... like you meant something to him.

You took a few steps closer, the distance between you shrinking with every step. "I could get used to that," you said softly, the warmth in your voice causing a flicker of surprise in Megatron’s optics.

His posture shifted, his usual command stance softening as you closed the distance, until you were standing side by side, gazing up at the stars together.

"You know," Megatron began, breaking the silence again, "I never thought I would find myself in such a position."

"What position?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"One where I find myself longing for something I’ve never felt before," he admitted, his voice quiet but steady.

You turned to him, your optics searching his face for any sign of mischief or hesitation. There was none. He was being sincere—his deep, resonant voice and softened optics revealed an honesty that made your spark race.

"Do you mind if I ask... what that is?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Megatron's expression softened further, and for a moment, his usual cold, calculating demeanor melted away. "I believe you already know," he replied, his gaze holding yours.

You felt your spark tighten, realizing the weight of his words. His gaze was intense now, but there was a gentleness in it that disarmed you. You stepped a little closer, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his frame.

"I never thought someone like me would ever be able to experience this," Megatron continued, his tone shifting to one of rare vulnerability. "And yet, here I am... captivated by your kindness, your strength, the way you protect those who are dear to you."

Your breath caught in your intake as the realization hit. The way his spark seemed to resonate with yours, the way he lingered, just watching you, his presence soothing but powerful. It wasn’t just a passing infatuation. It was something deeper.

"I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone," you admitted, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions in your chest. "But here we are."

Megatron stepped closer, his massive frame almost engulfing you, yet his presence was anything but threatening. "I don’t know what this means, or where it will go," he murmured. "But I know this... I want to know you more. I want to protect what’s mine, and for the first time, I feel... this warmth I can’t ignore."

The air between you both seemed to crackle with tension, the space narrowing with every passing second. His optics flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

Before you could respond, his hand—large, but gentle—reached up, brushing a lock of your hair away from your face. The touch was tender, almost reverent, and it made your spark ache in a way that words couldn’t express.

You found yourself drawn toward him, your body instinctively leaning into his presence, as though the two of you were always meant to be this close.

"I’ve never wanted something so much," Megatron whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers grazing his jaw, before you stood on your tiptoes. His optics flickered with surprise, but before he could say a word, you kissed him.

It was gentle at first—just a brush of your lips against his, testing the waters, feeling the warmth of him against you. But when Megatron kissed you back, it was with a sudden, overwhelming urgency, as if he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had.

His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, both of you surrendering to the moment, the connection between you sparking brighter than the stars above.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and a little dazed, Megatron’s optics were wide with a mixture of awe and something far more intense.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that," he said, his voice hoarse, but his words were full of warmth.

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I think I have a pretty good idea."

His gaze softened, and he brought his hand up to cup your cheek. "You’re mine, now, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice low and certain.

You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips. "I suppose so."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, the touch so gentle that it sent a wave of comfort through you. "I won’t let anything happen to you," Megatron whispered, his tone both possessive and protective.

And as you stood there in the quiet night, his presence surrounding you, you realized that, despite everything—the battles, the chaos, the uncertainty—you had found something worth fighting for.

The following day, things had returned to a semblance of normalcy at the Malto base. The Terrans had busied themselves with their projects, with Bumblebee overseeing their progress. Yet, despite the calm, a sense of warmth lingered in the air.

You and Megatron hadn’t spoken much about the kiss, but it was understood between the two of you—something had shifted.

As you prepared to head out for another mission with the Terrans, Megatron stood by the base entrance, watching you with a fondness that he couldn’t quite hide.

"You’re sure you’ll be alright?" he asked, his tone a mix of concern and authority.

You smiled up at him, giving him a reassuring glance. "I’ve got this, Megatron. I’m more than capable of handling whatever comes my way."

He nodded, his optics narrowing slightly. "Just be careful."

And with that, you left, the air still charged with the unspoken promise that your bond had only just begun, and whatever the future held, you would face it together—no matter the dangers that awaited.

Hi!👋 me again

Im SO in love with how you did my last request and since im feeling slightly betwen agust and fluff, so i go with fluff and i want to request an ES Megatron having an crush on the femme cybertronian reader who is to the Terrans 'Mom2', as Twich would say it, and the reader is while bot protecting tham SUPER sweet to tham and acting like they are her own sparklings but whan in danger she literly goes into 'protective mom' mode and keeps tham safe at all cost

I hope you have an amazing day or night and that i didn't go to far with this request💜💗🌌

A Protector's Spark.

The Malto household hummed with a warmth that could only be described as familial. The Terrans were scattered around the yard—Twitch practicing her flying maneuvers, Thrash trying (and failing) to do a wheelie, Hashtag perfecting her latest holo-selfie, Nightshade building something intricate, and Jawbreaker just enjoying the sun. Among them stood you, the unofficially dubbed “Mom2,” as Twitch lovingly called you.

“Alright, Twitch, keep your wings steady,” you encouraged, your voice gentle yet firm. “You’ll master that landing in no time.”

Megatron watched from a distance, his optics fixed on you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stop by the Malto home to check on the Terrans or discuss matters with Bumblebee, but recently, his visits had taken on a different motive: seeing you.

There was something about you that left him utterly captivated. The way you smiled at the Terrans, how your presence brought them comfort, and the fierce protectiveness you displayed when they were in danger—it all stirred something deep within his spark.

You glanced up from helping Nightshade secure a bolt on their project and spotted Megatron.

“Megatron!” you greeted warmly, waving. “Come join us!”

He hesitated before approaching, his massive frame seeming almost out of place amid the domestic scene. But the moment Twitch swooped down to excitedly greet him, the unease melted from his expression.

“Greetings,” Megatron said, his tone reserved but softer than usual. His optics flicked to you as you stood and dusted your servos.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” you teased lightly. “You always seem to visit when things are peaceful.”

“Perhaps I have impeccable timing,” he replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly and returned to the Terrans, unaware of the way Megatron’s optics lingered on you. He admired how you moved seamlessly between affection and authority—a trait he rarely saw in anyone, let alone someone who treated the Terrans as their own.

The peace didn’t last long. A sudden, shrill alarm sounded from the Malto base, and Bumblebee’s voice crackled over the comms:

“Terrans, get inside! Decepticon scouts nearby!”

The Terrans froze in fear, their excitement instantly replaced with dread. But you didn’t miss a beat.

“Everyone, inside, now!” you commanded, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“But—!” Twitch started, only for you to give her a look that silenced her protests.

“You heard your mother,” Megatron added, his voice carrying a weight of authority.

As the Terrans scrambled indoors, you and Megatron stepped forward, taking a defensive stance. The two of you worked in tandem, a seamless rhythm of strength and precision.

“Stay behind me,” Megatron ordered as the scouts appeared.

“Not a chance,” you replied, your tone steely.

The battle was swift but intense. You moved with a ferocity Megatron had rarely seen before, intercepting attacks that were aimed at the base and shielding him when one scout attempted to flank him.

When the last scout retreated, Megatron turned to you, his optics wide with something akin to awe.

“Are you injured?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Just a few scuffs,” you replied, brushing off your arm.

The Terrans peeked out from the base, their optics filled with admiration.

“Mom2, that was amazing!” Thrash exclaimed, running to hug your leg.

You smiled, kneeling to ruffle his helm affectionately. “I’d do anything to protect you.”

Megatron watched the exchange, his spark tightening.

Later that evening, after the Terrans had settled down and Bumblebee had returned from patrol, you and Megatron stood outside, gazing at the stars.

“You were remarkable today,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Thanks,” you replied, your gaze soft. “But I’m just doing what anyone would for their family.”

Megatron hesitated, the weight of his words catching in his vocal processor. Finally, he spoke:

“You care for them as if they were your own sparklings.”

“They might as well be,” you said with a laugh. “They’ve brought so much joy into my life. I’d do anything to keep them safe.”

He stared at you, his optics reflecting the starlight. In that moment, he realized the depth of his feelings for you. It wasn’t just admiration—it was something much stronger.

“I envy them,” he admitted quietly.

You turned to him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“They have you,” he said simply. “And I find myself wanting the same.”

Your optics widened, heat rushing to your faceplates. For a moment, you were speechless.

“Megatron…”

Before you could respond, Twitch’s voice called out from the base.

“Mom2, bedtime story!”

You chuckled, giving Megatron a warm smile. “Hold that thought.”

As you walked back toward the base, Megatron watched you go, his spark lighter than it had been in centuries.

Whatever it took, he’d make sure you knew how much you meant to him—one day.

[glacialswordsman]

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[cumironi]

‘ SSSHH, BEWARE OF THE FOOTSTEPS！

feat. gojo, geto, toji, sukuna, nanami, shiu

𖧷 sum. “ssshh, keep quiet,” they moan in your ear, breath burning your skin despite the cool air of the night. sēx outside can be very tricky, but. . . getting caught or not, it’s up to you: whether you can’t keep your moán to yourself or. . . not.

warning. outdoors/public space, exhibitionism, dōuble-penetration ( sukuna ), petnames, overstim, praises, name-calling, choke(s), under influence ( gojo, all consent ), dirty talk, spank(s).

＃ GOJO SATORU

your giggles grow louder rhythm along the way you bounce on gojo’s thick cock, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. the alcohol has loosened your inhibitions, allowing you to be more carefree and playful in your lovemaking. “baby...” you whimper, grinding down on him harder as you ride his lap. your wet cunt clings tightly to his shaft, the heat, and tightness driving him wild.

“you’re such a naughty girl, always begging for more of my cock,” gojo teases, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you. his blue eyes sparkle with mischief and arousal, drowsy from alcohol. “i think ’m going to have to punish you for being such a bad girl. you couldn’t even wait until we got home, huh?”

gojo grins at you, crocked, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you hard and fast, his massive cock stretching your cunt to its limits. “yeah, looks like i’ve got a little slut on my hands,” he says, his voice low and husky with desire. “a filthy girl who can’t control herself around me.”

he lifts your skirt higher, exposing more of your ass as he slaps it hard, the sound echoing through the quiet yard. “this is what happens when you’re a bad girl, sweetheart. you get punished.” gojo thrusts up into you again, his length hitting deep inside your womb. “and right now, i’m the judge, jury, and executioner.”

you laugh before a sharp cry escapes your lips the second gojo’s palm— big and cold— connects with your ass, the stinging sensation mingling with the intense pleasure from his relentless pounding. your cunt clenches around his thick cock, drawing him in deeper with each thrust.

“you are so silly,” you cringed between your giggles, bracing yourself against his chest as you continue to ride him wildly. the combination of the cool evening air, the warmth of his body beneath you, and the intoxicating liquor coursing through your veins has you lost in a haze of lust and euphoria.

“sshh, we should be quiet,” you whisper, again, giggling, your voice breathless and desperate between the laugh. nails dig into his shoulders as you grind down onto him, seeking that perfect angle to make you come undone. gojo chuckles darkly at your whispered plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. “shh, yeah, keep quiet, baby,” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear. “we don’t want anyone hearing how loud and dirty this little slut is getting fucked out here.”

his words send a tingling, flames of stars from your shoulder straight to your cunt, and you bite your lip to stifle another giggle. gojo’s cock is so deep inside you, stroking that sensitive spot within your core with every powerful thrust. you can feel his balls slapping against your cunt, adding to the overwhelming sensations crashing through your body.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” gojo groans, his face contorting in pleasure. “i can feel your cunt squeezing me like a vice. you love my big dick, don’t you?” your legs tremble as gojo’s thick cock stretches and fills you completely, the pleasure bordering on pain as he hits that sweet spot deep within your core over and over. you throw your head back, your long hair cascading down your back as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations.

“your mom and dad might see us,” you declare between the giggle instead of answering, warm breath fanning your boyfriend’s face the minute you lean closer. the mix of the rough grass beneath you, the cool night air, and gojo’s searing heat enveloping— a dangerous mix of cocktails of lust and pleasure that sends you spiraling out of your mind.

gojo smirks up at you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with lust and mischief. “let ’em watch,” he says, his voice low and husky. “they already know i’m a perverted bastard. nothing new there. they know better than to disturb me when i’m fucking their daughter-in-law.” he grips your hips harder, pulling you down onto his cock as he drives upward, burying himself to the hilt inside your dripping pussy. “fuuuck, you feel amazing,” gojo groans, his forehead pressing against yours as he starts to lose himself in the pleasure. “i could cum inside you right now, fill this naughty girl up with my seed.”

his words send a jolt of excitement through you, and you begin to move faster, riding him with reckless abandon. the thought of gojo marking you, claiming you as his, pushes you closer to the edge. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the yard, punctuated by your high-pitched moans, giggle and gasps.

he leans in, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue plundering yours as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. gojo breaks the kiss, panting heavily, his blue eyes blazing with intensity. “you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you, baby? i can feel your pussy twitching around my cock.”

# GETO SUGURU

gasps sharply as geto’s thick cock plunges deep inside you, your body jolting against the cold metal railing. you bite your lip hard, trying to stifle a moan at the intense sensation of being taken so roughly out here in the open air. “sh-shh...” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “fuck— sugu’ be quiet,” just a second, you glare at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

fingers curling around the rusty, dirty balcony fence tighter, your knuckles turning white as he pounds into you relentlessly. the force of each thrust makes my breasts bounce and rub against the rough fabric of his shirt that you wear. you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft stretching you wide, hitting all the right spots inside you.

“oh god— baby,” breathe out, your words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing and the creaking of the wooden floor beneath you. “hah! look who’s talking tough now,” geto chuckles lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. his hands grip your hips tight, fingers digging into your flesh as he uses them to pull you back onto his cock with each brutal thrust. he is not even bothering to keep his voice down as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. his mission is only one : make the stupid neighbors stop flirting with you.

“you’re the one making all those cute little noises,” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “i bet they can hear you moaning all the way down the hall. ’m surprised they haven’t called the cops yet,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he growls, “and i’m going to keep doing this until you can’t take anymore.”

geto reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly through the fabric of the shirt. he pinches your nipple between his fingers, meannn, twisting it just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your cunt. the action earn a choked whimper escapes your throat at the cruel twist of your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. geto’s pace quickens, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. the balcony’s fence creaks ominously under the force of your coupling, but he shows no signs of slowing down. “come on doll, scream for me,” he commands, his voice low and husky with desire. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless out here.”

your pussy clenches tightly around geto’s thick cock, milking him as he continues to ravage you with wild abandon. “ah-ahh! s-suguuuu’!” you cry out, unable to contain yourself any longer. the rough treatment of your sensitive nub, combined with the relentless pounding of his shaft, pushes you precariously close to the edge.

geto’s mocking words only fuel the fire within you, igniting a dark, primal desire that demands release. as he grips your hip harder, pulling you back onto him with bruising force, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensations. “hhn! oh f-fuck, s-shouldd- quiet,” you wail, your voice rising to a desperate keen, whispering like a mantra to yourself.

geto grins wickedly, pleased by your desperate attempts to stifle your cries. however, he clearly has no intention of letting up anytime soon. “that’s right, let it out,” he encourages, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. “moan for me, doll. show everyone how much you love getting fucked raw by your boyfriend out in the open.”

he punctuates his words with another vicious thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. the obscene squelch of skin meeting skin echoes loudly across the balcony, mingling with your ragged breaths and the creaking of the railing beneath you. geto leans in close, his lips hovering mere inches from your ear as he whispers, “come on, i know you can be louder than that,” his breath burning, spit all the pleasure with his dirty talk. “show me how much you love getting fucked in public. let everyone know who’s making you cum so hard.”

you can tell geto was loving seeing you struggle to hold back your moans. he continued to push deeper and faster into your wet heat, stretching your walls around his thickness with every powerful stroke. his grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he used your body for his own pleasure— and his punching-jealosy bag. you could feel the veins in his cock pulsing against your inner walls, throbbing with need.

a strangled sob tears from your throat as geto’s words wash over you, each syllable a sharp blade cutting through your last vestiges of restraint. the shameless, public nature of your tryst, coupled with the unrelenting assault on your senses, finally shatters the fragile barrier holding back your climax.

“fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” you shriek, your voice a raw, guttural cry that seems to reverberate off the very walls of the building. your body convulses violently, back arching as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you. your pussy clamps down around geto’s pistoning cock like a vice, rhythmically milking him as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. the sheer intensity of your release leaves you gasping and twitching, utterly spent.

# TOJI FUSHIGURO

breathless moans escape your lips as toji pounds into you relentlessly, the bamboo walls creaking with each powerful thrust. the sound of waves crashing outside mingles with your ragged panting, creating an erotic symphony.

“mm— baby. .” you gasp, your hands bracing against the rough bamboo as he grips your hips, pulling you back onto his thick cock each time while you, uncontrollably desperate to keep your mouth shut from spreading the moan and sin to everyone around— there are children around for fuck sake. the cool ocean breeze wafts through the open ceiling of the structure, sending shivers down your spine even as your body burns with desire. your clit throbs in time with toji’s sleepless strokes.

“shhh... i gotchu, ma,” toji whispers huskily in your ear, feeling your body tremble beneath him. he tightens his grip on your hips, fucking you harder, faster, driven by lust and the thrill of getting caught. the thought of someone discovering them sends a dark thrill through him. leaning over your shoulder, he nips at your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks making a sharp cry tears from your throat as toji bites down on your neck, his teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. his free hand snakes around to rub your clit in firm circles, pushing you closer to the land of climax and pleasure just for a second. “gonna fill this tight pussy up, ma,” he growls, his voice low and rough with arousal.

the pain only heightens your pleasure, making your inner walls clench greedily around his pistoning cock. the bamboo structure creaks ominously under your frenzied coupling, but toji doesn’t care. all that matters is claiming you right here, right now, consequences be damned. you whimper, your head thrown back against his chest as he assaults your sensitive flesh with his fingers and mouth. the knowledge that you are so close to being discovered only fuels the fire raging within you.

your hips buck wildly, meeting each of toji’s powerful thrusts as he drives into you with primal intensity. the wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the small, tiny, wee space, mingling with your ragged breathing and toji’s guttural grunts. toji’s arms snake around your slippery skin for the nth time, to press firmly against your belly, encouraging you to arch into him, to meet his thrusts head-on— bend your stomach deeper into the bulge of his thick cock that peeks at your abandonment.

“fuck yeah— come on ma, i know you can do it,” toji snarls, pounding into you with reckless abandon. he can feel your body starting to tighten around him, and it spurs him on. he wants to push you over the edge, make you scream his name for all to hear. fingers dancing lower, he roughly pinches your clit, rubbing it between his fingers in harsh, rapid circles. at the same time, he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “gonna cum so deep inside you, mark you as mine. everyone will know who you belong to.”

# RYOMEN SUKUNA

whimpers softly, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of being filled so completely by sukuna’s enormous cocks. tears continue to stream down your cheeks— struggle to even do as much as catch your breath, each thrust sending waves of pleasure-pain crashing through you.

# NANAMI KENTO

panting heavily, i manage a weak, “my lord. .” your voice is barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and sukuna’s lewd grunts of satisfaction. his twice or three times bigger mouth on his stomach lick the small of your back— it smirks, your cunt can feel it.

sukuna chuckles darkly at your feeble attempt to address him properly, his four arms gripping you tighter as he pounds into you relentlessly. the tongue on his stomach licks up your spine, leaving a trail of saliva that tingles on your sensitive skin. his upper pair of hands reach around to grasp your breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he fucks you harder. the third hand slides down to rub your clit, making sure to hit that sweet spot with every stroke.

“foolish mortal,” he sneers, his voice low and menacing. “you should be grateful i deign to use you for my pleasure. your pitiful cries only spur me on.” one of his hands slides around to fondle your breast roughly, pinching and twisting your nipple between his fingers. his other hand reaches down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, forcing your body to respond despite your mind’s protests.

cries out sharply as sukuna tweaks your nipple, the sudden jolt of pain mixing with the overwhelming pleasure from his cocks and touch. “ah! m-my lord, please...” your hips buck involuntarily, meeting his thrusts as his skilled hands work to push you closer to the edge. “this is— too much, i-i can’t...”

trembling, you clench around the thick cocks stretching your inner walls, desperate for some respite but knowing it won’t come anytime soon. “just- just give me a moment, i need...” your eyes hooded, half-heartedly open and find the open garden surrounded you, few of his servants passed by— yet, despite them didn’t have enough the courage to look directly, the voice of skin roughly kiss, your desperate-slutty moan, and sukuna’s rough grumble was obvious.

sobbing quietly, you try to gather your fragmented thoughts, dreading what further degradation or humiliation sukuna might inflict upon you once he’s finished using your body for his twisted amusement. sukuna laughs cruelly at your pleas, his tone dripping with sadistic glee. “a moment? how quaint. you think you have control over this?”

instead, he speeds up his pace, the wet sounds of his cocks pistoning in and out of you growing louder. the tongue on his stomach slithers up to your ear, licking the shell before whispering, “i think you need to learn your place, silly mortal. and if begging for mercy is what it takes...”

his fourth arm moves to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. “perhaps a little choking will help you focus on the present. now, beg properly. beg me to let you cum, to grant you this fleeting pleasure.”

the hand on your clit intensifies its ministrations, rubbing circles that send sparks of ecstasy shooting through your nerves. with that, he redoubles his efforts, slamming his cocks deep inside you with brutal force. the sounds of flesh meeting flesh echo through the garden, mingling with your choked sobs and the occasional gasp from passing servants who can’t help but steal glances at the depraved scene.

the servant who dared to glance your way quickly looks away, not wanting to meet sukuna’s wrathful gaze. they all know better than to disturb their master when he’s indulging in such carnal pleasures. sukuna tightens his grip around your throat slightly, his smirk growing wider as he watches the effect it has on you. he leans in close, his hot breath washing over your ear as he whispers, “look at them, pet. can you see how they’re staring? envious of the privilege i’m granting you, of the pleasure you get to experience at my hands.”

his fingers dig into your neck, applying just enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges. “they wish they could be in your position right now, don’t they? wishing they could feel my cocks inside them, wishing they could hear their own desperate moans echoing through the garden.”

your vision starts to blur from lack of oxygen as sukuna tightens his grip around your throat. panic sets in as you claw at his wrist, desperate for air. he chuckles darkly, amused by your struggles. just as you're about to pass out, sukuna releases his hold, allowing you to gulp in a ragged breath. he watches with perverse fascination as you tremble and wheeze, your body still wracked by the aftershocks of his relentless pounding.

sukuna’s hand on your clit becomes a blur of motion, rubbing and pinching in a relentless rhythm designed to drive you to the brink of insanity.

he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close as he rocks into you slowly. his voice is low and husky, filled with desire even as he tries to keep things discreet. with his other hand, he gently cup your cheek, tilting your face up towards him, thumb brushing across your lips as he tries to silence your pleasured moans. “shh, my love... i know it feels amazing, but we need to be quiet so no one knows what we’re doing here.”

his brown eyes filled with adoration and lust, blend like a mix of cocktails under the dim blue and purple bar lights. “i want to hear you, but not like this. let me take care of you when we get home, okay? right now, just relax for me...” he punctuates his words with a deep, slow thrust, making you gasp despite yourself. his deep voice is a soothing whisper against your ear as he rocks his hips. one after another while keeping his hard length buried within your cunt. “just focus on how good i make you feel, okay? let me take care of everything.”

your body shudders at the intensity of his words, his touch igniting sparks that race through your veins. you nod frantically, unable to form coherent responses over the crescendo of pleasure building inside you. instead, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling into his warmth as you cling to him desperately.

your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, more pressure against your sensitive clit. you can’t help the whimpers that escape, muffled against his skin, as he continues to stroke that perfect spot deep within you. each deliberate thrust sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to consume you whole and drowning you all the way.

desperate to stifle the sounds of your desperation, you press your mouth to his throat, sucking gently on the pulse point there. the subtle pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure. the sound of music and everyone push painfully far away to the back of your head, and everything becomes grey with how much the sounds of nanami’s breathing kissing your ear. all warm, soft and just him. “baby..”

he inhales sharply as you suck on his throat, the sudden rush of sensation sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. his grip on you tightens reflexively, fingers digging into your hip bones as he struggles to maintain control. the urge to claim you harder, faster, more forcefully is almost overwhelming, but he resists, determined to please you rather than succumb to base instinct.

with a herculean effort, he steadies his movements, focusing on long, slow strokes designed to stretch and fill you without jarring you against the seat or drawing unwanted attention. he lets out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your ear as he fights to hold back his own climax. “my love... the love of my life,” he breathes, the endearment barely audible over the thumping bass.

overwhelmed by the intense sensations coursing through every fiber of your being, you can only whimper and tremble in nanami’s arms. the steady rhythm of his thrusts, the heat of his body enveloping yours, the sweet ache of his fingers digging into your flesh— it all blends together into an exquisite symphony of pleasure.

it was painfully slow, but when he was sensing your impending release, nanami’s hands begin to roam your body, tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your breasts, before coming to rest on your thighs. he spreads them wider, angling his hips to hit that magical spot inside you with precision. the added pressure sends you spiraling toward the edge, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his thick length.

nanami’s eyes darken with lust as he watches you lose yourself in pleasure, your body tensing and trembling in his grasp. he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing the desperate little noises you make. his tongue dances with yours, matching the rhythm of the loud music, alsooo, mirroring the rhythm of his hips as he continues to stroke into you, hitting that sweet spot again and again.

# SHIU KONG

he breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, nibbling and sucking marks into your tender skin. “so beautiful,” he murmurs against your flesh, his voice heavy with desire. “i could look at you forever.” his hands slide higher, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your top. he thumbs your nipples, coaxing them to hardness as he teases and plucks at the sensitive buds.

breathless, eyes wide with excitement and guilt as you look around at your secluded spot amidst the bamboo forest. gasp as another wave of pleasure crashes over you from your thick cock stretching your velvet walls. eyes flustered closed while your fingers curled up, wrapping the fabric of his suit around.

“fuck, it feels so good...“ you start moving faster on top of him, riding him harder as the thrill of getting caught only heightens your arousal. you lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth as you continue to bounce on his lap, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. “we’re being so naughty out here in the open... what if someone walks by and catches us in the act?” you asked, tone nonchalant so the heartbeat once you pull away.

a low groan escapes shiu’s throat, feels your tight heat gripping his cock tighter with each hard ride. his hands grip your hips, guiding you to fuck yourself on him even deeper— panting heavily, he looks up at you with lust-filled eyes.

“let ’em,” he rasps, his voice husky with desire. “i want everyone to see how badly i’m fucking you right now.” shiu’s fingers dig into your flesh, pulling you down to slam your cunt onto his shaft again and again. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the quiet woods, mixing with your high-pitched moans and his deep growls.

“you’re so goddamn sexy like this,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning across your ear. “riding my dick in public, not giving a damn who sees...” your body trembles as shiu’s words, intensifying the burning need within you. you throw your head back, lost in the ecstasy of being taken so roughly, so publicly. each harsh thrust makes you cry out, your voice carrying through the stillness of the bamboo grove.

“sooo dirty,” you tease between giggling, grinding your clit against him as you impale yourself on his thick cock. your hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, squeezing and tugging at your nipples as you continue to ride shiu with wild abandon. leaning down, you capture his lips once more, kissing him deeply as you move, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

shiu meets your fervent kisses with equal passion, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he devours you whole. his large hands roam your curves, squeezing and kneading your supple flesh as he drinks in every moan and whimper that spills from your lips. few seconds and he breaking the kiss to trails his mouth along your jawline, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. “mmm, such a naughty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with approval. “wants to get caught, huh? wants everyone to know you’re mine.”

shiu’s fingers find their way beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming up your stomach to pinch and roll your hardened nipples. he watches intently as you writhe above him, your breasts bouncing with each frenzied movement. one hand leaves your hip to palm your breast, thumbing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt before slipping beneath to tease the hardened bud directly. you let out a sharp gasp as shiu’s skilled fingers play with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“mmm, feel that, doll?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with lust. “your tits are so sensitive, i bet they’d be perfect for my mouth.” the sensation of his warm breath on your skin and his filthy words make you ache for more. “please!” you beg, arching your back to push your chest further into his touch.

with a wicked grin, shiu pulls your shirt up and off, revealing your heaving breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze. he wastes no time, taking one pert nipple into his mouth and suckling greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

you moan loudly, head thrown back in bliss as he lavishes attention on your other breast, pinching and rolling the neglected nipple between his fingers. shiu releases your nipple with a wet pop, leaving it glistening and swollen. he gazes up at you with dark, lustful eyes, his own chest heaving with exertion.

“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire. “make some noise for me. let everyone know how much you love having my cock buried deep inside you.” he punctuates his words with a particularly forceful thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. shiu grins, pleased with himself.

leaning forward, he takes your other nipple into his mouth, suckling and nibbling until you’re squirming and mewling above him. his free hand slides down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower to rub at your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“you’re so close, aren’t you?”

[screampied]

gojo had a dream you died.

it was partially the reason why he woke up in a cold sweat… it was horrid.

he could still hear your screams, the life leaving your eyes, but more importantly, he remembered your final words that were murmured to him. “satoru, don’t… cry, i’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.” and he believed you, that everything would be okay. despite tears filling his eyes, labeled the strongest at that moment, he couldn’t have ever felt so weak.

the dream felt so real, that was the scary part. he remembered each and every detail. from the feeling of you giving his wrist a light squeeze, the sweet smell of your natural scent.. the eerie sounds of your irregular wheezes as you were clinging on your final moments.

“don’t leave me,” he mutters, he remembers saying that. three simple words, yet his dilated pupils spoke a thousand. he started to repeat it. again and again as if it was a mantra. his words, his tone broke the more he spoke to you. that cute smile of yours never left your lips, it remained there. regardless of your inevitable incoming fate, he sobs, “you’re…you’re all i have left. i don’t wanna be left alone again, just stay. please, baby.”

“i’m not going anywhere, ‘toru,” you’d reassure him, a single tear drop of his falls onto your cheek.

after that moment, gojo wakes up. trembling, yet the dream wasn’t that feared him the most. it was him waking up with you not next to him..

cold, everything felt cold.

he shot up immediately from his dream. the cold sweat that forever continued to race down his back as he panted.

he was so used to your warmth taking up part of the bed. albeit, in this case though. it felt empty,

isolated.

it was near the middle of the night, gojo was drowsy, rubbing his eyes to blind his vision with imaginary stars. feeling for the bed, it was frigid.

“baby?” he’d grumble, white lashes partially open. silence called back to him, if it was anything about gojo, he hated being alone.

oh, he loathed it,

yet whenever you came into his life—he didn’t have to worry about that. you were always besides him, no matter what.

until now.

it takes him a split second before it dawns on him. your fatal death, it wasn’t another one of his silly surreal dreams. it was nothing but mere reality.

a breath gets caught in his throat once he realizes, being brought back into harsh realness. you were gone.

it’s been years, speaking of which…

it was your anniversary with him. the same exact day he proposed to you. he remembers it vividly, getting down on one knee with the goofiest grin. he didn’t even say, “will you marry me..?” instead, he snorts a sheepish, “let’s get married, heh.”

“i always forget around this time,” gojo sighs to himself with a soft tone, his voice was a bit raspy from abruptly waking up. intaking a sharp inhale, he goes towards your side of the bed and he reaches into his pocket.

“it should have been me,” and he doesn’t even care he’s talking to himself, it’s like for whatever reason, your presence was near him. “our marriage,” and then with a brief sniffle, he glances down at the ring you once wore proudly. he strokes it with a thumb before huffing out a shaky, “our marriage, it was supposed to last us for infinity…”

but it didn’t.

with hot tears streaming down his face and stuck a power he wished he’d never have, in the end, it couldn’t save you.

he couldn’t save you.

and now…

the strongest, the most brave to ever live and walk could easily be mistaken as the weakest.

[tojisun]

Okay, now I need something about bf!logan and his girl making a porno (bonus points if wade finds out after the show they put on for him and that man is willing to RISK IT ALL to see that sex tape😩���)

cw: porn link; f!reader; smut; consensual filming during sex; slight sexting at the end // divider by @/plutism!

this is definitely the porno they were making <3

logan has you on your knees, your ass dimpling with every one of his greedy caresses, his heavy hand kneading your flesh. you’re whining to be creampied—to be bred—and logan indulges you with a quiet chuckle because you’re so adorable like this, all needy and demanding, babbling nothing but nonsense because he’s fucked you to the point of incoherence.

you jut out your chin at his croon. he tells you to do it yourself if you really want his cum; says that you’ve got to show him how much you need it.

“an’ here i thought i was bein’ a gentleman,” logan says, sighing in that what-can-you-do? tone like he hadn’t been fucking you so hard, you were sure that the condom was on the brink of ripping.

you grumble, rolling your eyes even mid-tears, before reaching back to where he’s got his cock rutting along the cleft of your ass. you give it a stroke, giggling breathily to yourself at its sheer girth and weight, before sliding your hand down to the pinched tip and tugging.

logan moans, and it rumbles deep, sending tingles to rise from the tips of your toes to the base of your neck. he sounds just a little too excited, and you wonder how you must look as you reach for the rubber, tugging it off the expanse of his cock. do you look desperate, the camera capturing the way you’re shivering like you’re on cum-withdrawals? or do you look like the brat that you are, whining how sex is not enough until logan’s pumping you full of his sperm?

god, the thought that this moment is being immortalized makes you clench at nothing, your hole puckering as it waits to be filled.

the condom comes off with a pop, the rubber snapping off and into itself. it sounds so lewd and dirty, like the two of you are really starring in a corny porno, and it fills your cheeks with warmth as your need wanes in the face of your shyness.

you fling the condom to the side, before burrowing your face on the pillows, as though that alone can hide the palpable hunger rippling from you. logan laughs at your reaction like he’s not softly humping his cock between your thighs, rutting it along the wet mess he’s made out of your cunt.

“y’ready, bub?” logan asks, still giddy with his laugh. you grumble a reply, before jutting your head in a stilted nod.

he taps his weeping cock along your folds, testing, and you shuffle in your impatience. you feel the itch exploding, the need to be stuffed bloating, but logan continues to tease and god, pleasepleaseplease—

“i’ve got you, darl,” he grunts, then he’s pushing in, steady and filling, and, and—

the moan that’s ripped from your throat sounds foreign, like you’re a damn wounded animal. you don’t even get to adjust to his width—pussy lips going taut at his thickness—before logan’s drawing his cock out until all that’s left is the head. there’s a bated breath that you two share, leaving you suspended in anticipation, then he’s bullying it back in.

you flop on the bed, all useless now like you’ve got your strings cut loose. logan doesn’t seem to mind, not with the consistent ringing slaps of his pelvis meeting your ass echoing in your quaint room. god, your brain’s being scrambled right now, you’re sure, because you can’t even think of anything but logan—

loganloganlogan.

you’re already cross-eyed by the time he sprays his first load inside you.

.

wade gets a five second clip from logan’s number. the thumbnail is just a blur of colours and wade’s interest is piqued because logan rarely reaches out to him—a video is just unthinkable.

he was expecting many things—that the video is the one of deadpool being broadcasted on national television with the words “hero or criminal?” after he’s accidentally set the robber’s van on fire, or that the video is an accidental recording of logan’s butt because that wolverine suit was tight and wade can’t even think where logan must keep his phone with him.

but this—

wade wasn’t expecting this.

it was a video of you—wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that he’s memorized the way you look from all angles; what? one doesn’t get a show of wolverine fucking his girl without gaining a new hyperfixation—reaching for logan’s monster cock. wade breathes in sharply as he watches you reach for the condom before tugging it off with a filthy, filthy pop. the video cuts into a next scene of logan relentlessly fucking you hard; the audio is a mess of squeaks and slaps, but also the wet squelches of logan’s cock fucking in-and-out of your gaping cunt.

two things:

1. that’s fucking hot.

2. that video has clearly been tampered with; it was edited to show the barest of the highlights.

this was a conscious decision, with deliberate efforts. this was personal.

an invitation.

wade rubs one… okay, fine.

wade rubs three out before he’s running back to that apartment he’s daydreamed about. mid-parkour, another notifcation comes in. wade falls, because of course he does, but while he waits for his ankle to mend itself back into its socket, his eyes devour the new message.

> darl wants to know if you’re in.

wade sends a dick pic as a reply.

wade busting a fat nut behind tim hortons because he’s patriotic like that

(ext)