#cw genuine human emotions and thoughts

[eyeballs-in-my-head]

Do you guys wanna see me go insane? I can do that. Only if you want to tho, I don't want to inconvenience anyone haha

[muletia]

Starscream would particularly be a pathetic mess when he experiences human pussy/dick for the first time. He sits on his high horse claiming that humans are nothing more than inferior beings who don’t deserve to be acknowledged, then poof, you show up and put him in his place by making him cry and beg for relief as you use him for your own pleasure.

By the end, Starscream is panting like a dog, his legs shaking uncontrollably while you sit beside him smoking a cigarette (picturing that certain meme lol) and praises him for being such a good mech for them. Starscream is obsessed and whipped for reader from then on.

DON’T TELL MEGATRON FOR HIS AND YOUR SAKE‼️

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

[tfp] obsessed!starscream x human!reader 18+ content / valveplug

summary: behind megatron's back, many things are happening, all of which share one common trait: starscream is the source. this time, the decepticon SIC decided to strike his master's most vulnerable point: you.

cw: valveplug, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!starscream, starscream rides you, multiple orgasms, praise kink, overstimulation, cheating? (is it really cheating if you are not in an established relationship?) yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation

word count: 1130

'angel' by massive attack was played on repeat while writing. i thought the title kind of fit the content

It was supposed to be just another ploy. A move to get under Megatron’s skin. To finally prove who was better, more cunning; who deserved to rule.

The plan was simple. Use you: make you fall in love, spark emotions, make you care for him more than any other bot on that ship. Spread rotten roots throughout your entire body to ignite a desire within you. Enter your primitive brain and leave a piece of himself there—a piece that, in theory, would take control of you. Make you dependent on him, abandon Megatron, humiliating him. And then seize the moment of shock, disposing of both you and him. Take the throne that belonged to him.

But somewhere along the way, he stumbled.

Starscream had to be cunning, and think two steps ahead if he wanted to survive another day as a Decepticon. Scheming was an art of survival, and he had become its master. Or so he thought. For there was someone even more calculating, someone who deceived even him. Someone who broke into his processor, conquered it mercilessly and claimed it entirely.

“Oh, how beautiful you are, how lovely,” he hears beneath him.

He feels soft, warm hands trailing across the armor on his chassis. Stroking, caressing—the action itself a form of praise. They are delicate, gentle, incomprehensible because no one had ever been gentle with him before. Subtlety was unattainable for someone like Starscream. Illusory. A luxury he had long stopped hoping for.

“You’re doing so well, darling.”

But you did it so easily, effortlessly. Without forcing, without intimidation. Praising him came naturally to you, as though you genuinely believed what you said. He knew he was magnificent, that he deserved more than he had. All the other bots, all the beings on that miserable planet couldn’t compare to him. But hearing it in real time made his ego feel real. He genuinely felt like he was the best.

Your hands wander higher. They leave his chassis, move to his shoulders, then to his neck. For a moment, he has the impression you’re about to choke him, the familiar, almost friendly sensation once again enveloping his neck. But you don’t hurt him. You don’t inflict pain. You just keep caressing him, sharing your warmth, even though he had long since begun to overheat.

His hips move quickly as he rises and falls over you, chasing pleasure. It’s lust. Hunger that only you can satisfy.

“More,” he moans. Half-lidded crimson optics look at you, and in their depths plays something far more dangerous than Megatron’s fury. “Say more. Compliment me, adore me. Love me.”

Finally, you reach his faceplate, forcing him to focus his gaze solely on you, and then you smile triumphantly. You’ve won, wrapping the very SIC of the Decepticons around your little finger. Now at your mercy, dependent on your whims and needs.

“You’re amazing, Star. So good, and just for me. You don’t even know what an honor this is for me.”

The pleasant tingling in his valve disrupts his focus. He wants to drink in your praise, to encode it deep into his processor and repeat it like a mantra when you are not at his disposal. But he’s so close to release… He feels his legs start to tremble, claws carving ravines into the berth.

He nuzzles his cheek deeper into your hand, seeking contact, reveling in the ecstasy you give him. Even while being passive, doing absolutely nothing but lying there and looking beautiful beneath him, you give him more than you could ever imagine. He does all the work, riding you, holding full control over when to stop and start, yet it’s you holding the leash. It’s your word that determines whether he’ll be granted the privilege of pleasure.

“You’re doing so wonderfully today, darling. Tell me, would you like to come? Would you like to be good for me?”

The tingling transforms into fire. His valve clamps around you, begging for release.

“Yes! Please!” he whines. “I want to be, hmm, the best… for you.”

“Then please, show me how much you adore me.”

He arches his back and sinks as deeply as he can. Pants heavily, legs still trembling. Optics remain open, locked onto you. Onto the human who managed to break him.

He leans low over you and kisses you, finalizing his overload. You can’t keep up with him as he ravages your mouth, constantly begging for more, for scraps of passion that temporarily soothe his frantic processor. One kiss lasts longer, almost romantic, but Starscream breaks it quickly, leaving five more hungry, greedy ones.

Finally, he leaves your lips and moves lower, to your neck. He hears you take a deep breath, and for a second, he feels guilty—until desire takes control again.

“Starscream,” you chide him gently. You saw right through him.

He wants to mark you, show everyone who you belong to, who you cheat on Megatron with. But he also wants to calm himself, to stop pretending in front of everyone that nothing connects you two, that you’re indifferent to him. To stop the madness tearing him apart after every separation, when both his body and spark craves you. Not just the feral interfacing but also the tenderness it carried.

Once more, he starts moving his hips, chasing another overload, though the remnants of the previous climax still cling to him. He’s already grown hungry again, longing for praise, which, as it turned out, was more satisfying than the desire to overthrow Megatron. His battered valve lazily takes you in, releases, and then swallows you whole again.

“Just a little mark,” he tries to bargain. He needs it. Needs to possess your body and soul the way you possessed his.

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, stroking his cheek. “You know he’ll kill you if you do.”

He growls and pulls away because he knows you’re absolutely right. If your meetings were discovered, it wouldn’t just be him who’d pay. And he didn’t want to see you hurt. Not anymore.

He speeds up, forcing his processor to focus solely on you and the pleasure you provided him. He had to make the most of this meeting, to ravage himself until he had no strength left to move a digit. Not just so you’d care for him afterward and coo praise at him. The date of your next encounter was unknown, and he didn’t know if he would lose his sanity entirely and last scraps of self-control by then.

“What a good mech,” you murmur, drawing a moan from him. “Five overloads, and you still have the strength, huh?”

“There’ll be at least ten… ah! Or twe-twenty. But you—you’re not going anywhere.”

“As you wish, Star.”

He scratches with his claws so hard that sparks fly next to your head.

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Teaching Boyfriend Choso! How To Kiss!

Author's Note: I am back from the dead guyssss :3 Did you miss me? Anyways, I finally found motivation to write again. It's all thanks to this artist. Check out her Twitter and her commissions page! (Artist & Her Commissions)

Also, this is my first attempt at writing a Dom!Reader piece, so I appreciate your patience if it feels a little rough around the edges.

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, sloppy kissing, dry humping, premature ejaculation

✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊

Choso was the sweetest boyfriend anyone could ask for, maybe a little too sweet. The two of you had been dating for a couple of months now, and hadn't progressed past hand-holding. You wanted more, but the anxiety of pushing him past his comfort zone scared you. He was new to all of this—all human emotions, situations, and sensations.

You often found yourself imagining what it would be like if his strong hands lingered on your skin just a bit longer than those fleeting moments. What if his soft gazes turned half-lidded and drunk on you? What if his lips finally collided with yours in the heat of the moment? What would it feel like? Would he want that?

As the movie dragged on, you found yourself growing increasingly restless. The movie was losing your interest, but the view beside you was far more captivating. Choso lounged on the couch, his arm casually slung over your shoulder, his legs sprawled comfortably. You couldn't help but let your naughty eyes wander, tracing the lines of his muscles and the way his shirt fit him perfectly. The warmth of his body near you and the steady rise and fall of his chest were far more engaging than the plot on the screen.

He was a sight, a mouth-watering sight.

Your mischievous fingers danced along the side of his abdomen, causing his stomach to flex instinctively. His breath hitched for just a moment, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, the slight reaction only spurred you on, with a grin spreading across your face.

"Choso," you purred his name, drawing out the vowels in a whisper. He shifted slightly, tilting his head to face you. His expression contorted into one of concern, but, oh god, did he look good. His hair was pinned up in its usual style, and his face was illuminated by the flickering light of the TV in the dark room. The soft glow highlighted the sharp angles of his jaw and the depth of his eyes, making him even more delectable.

"Hm?" He mumbled, a soft vibration that sent tingles straight to the already dripping place between your clenched thighs. His brows furrowed with anticipation, each word you spoke a delicate thread he clung to. There was something different about you, a change that Choso couldn't quite grasp. He could feel the energy in your blood thrumming, an almost palpable hum that confused him.

He had no idea what you were about to do; what you were about to do to him.

Your movements were slow; your scheming hand glided from the side of his torso to the fleshy muscle of his thigh. Choso's furrowed brows softened for a split second before arching again, not in arrogance or intrigue, but in genuine confusion. Was he really that innocent? Or was he just toying with you?

He had seen plenty of couples kiss or even get a little more intimate in the streets, or hell, even during the movie you were watching. Wasn't he at least a bit curious?

"Have you ever thought about doing something like that?" Your eyes flick to the screen, then swiftly back to him. The television was showing two lovers, well, getting pretty cozy for lack of a better term. Lips grinding together; tongues intertwining, teeth grazing, saliva mixing, all fueled by one thing: lust. The scene lingered just a bit too long, causing Choso to visibly gulp before he could muster a response.

"I haven't, uh, not that I haven't, I just..." he stammered, his pale cheeks and ears bursting into a deep, beautiful red. You inched closer, your fingers lightly digging into his thigh, sending the message you intended for him to receive. His breath hitched, eyes wide as he struggled to find the right words. "Have you?" he asked, a bit too quickly, as if he was trying to put the spotlight on you to avoid the embarrassing question.

His muscled shoulders were now taut, fingers gripping the cushion of the sofa beneath him. You felt like a predator ready to pounce, your gaze smoldering through half-lidded eyes. Choso sweatpants strained at the middle, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Oh, he was definitely imagining something.

"I have," you say with a hint of mischief, making sure he realizes how filthy your thoughts have gotten. It took a moment for the reality to take in, but when it did, his eyes widened and met yours. "Does that bother you?"

Choso blinked, his mouth parting just slightly. The pink flush on his cheeks deepened, and he shook his head, almost too quickly. “No. No, it doesn’t bother me,” he said, voice low, rough around the edges. “I just, uh, I didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

You leaned in slowly, the air between you now thick with something unnamed but deeply understood. “Then let me make it clear.”

Your lips brushed his jaw, featherlight, just enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath and the promise behind it. He didn’t move away—in fact, his hand twitched against the couch, like he was stopping himself from reaching for you. You took that as invitation enough.

You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth, a soft tease, and finally he turned toward you—meeting you halfway.

The kiss was tentative at first, a soft, trembling thing, but when your fingers slid up to curl into his hair, Choso’s restraint cracked. His mouth opened beneath yours, hot and eager, and his hand finally found your waist, gripping it like he was anchoring himself. He kissed you like he’d been waiting his whole life to, hesitant but hungry, all trembling breath and tightly coiled want.

You pounced, climbing onto his lap without breaking the kiss, your thighs straddling his as his hands found purchase on your hips. A soft groan rumbled from deep in his chest when your lips left his only to graze down the side of his neck, your tongue flicking against the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. His hips jerked beneath you, and your smile curved against his throat.

“Still okay?” you murmured, your lips brushing his ear now. Choso’s answer came as a growl, low and hoarse. “If you stop now, I might actually die.”

You chuckled, but the sound was breathy, laced with your own unraveling. “Good,” you whispered. “Because I don’t plan on stopping.”

Your hips shifted against his, rolling in a deliberate rhythm that sent a delicious friction sparking between you. You could feel the hard press of him through the layers of clothing, thick and twitching beneath his sweatpants, straining against the fabric. Every time you dragged yourself against him, your clit throbbed, caught in the pressure, your panties dampening with each pass.

Choso gripped your hips like he didn’t trust himself to move — like if he did, he might lose the last thread of control. His thighs tensed beneath you, solid and trembling, and his breath stuttered out in shallow bursts that tickled the hollow of your throat.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “You feel that, Choso?” you murmured, each word dripping honeyed sin. “That’s what you do to me.”

Your grinding picked up in intensity, not rough, but sure, a boiling heat that made your stomach clench. The fabric between you was too thin, not enough, and yet somehow too much — your soaked panties clung to you, dragging over your aching center with every movement. His cock throbbed beneath you, hard and leaking, the head of it caught at the waistband of his sweatpants, no longer fully confined.

His whole body shuddered. “I—I can’t... it’s too much,” he panted, voice cracking like he was breaking open.

“Then let it be too much,” you whispered, breath hot on his neck.

You rocked your hips just right, slow and deep, and that’s what did it.

Choso gasped, then let out a strangled moan, low and utterly wrecked. His body locked beneath yours, rigid with release. A wet heat spread between you as he came hard, the fabric of his sweatpants quickly growing damp and sticky against your clothed cunt. His cock pulsed against you in frantic twitches, and his breath hitched with every wave that rolled through him.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder, hiding his face, but you could feel how flushed he was — his skin hot and slick with sweat. He clung to you, hands trembling, his chest rising and falling in ragged motions against your breasts, which were heaving in time with your own racing heartbeat.

“I—fuck, I’m sorry,” he breathed against your skin, shame coloring his voice even as his cock still twitched faintly beneath you.

You pulled back just enough to catch his dazed, overwhelmed gaze. Your fingers threaded into his hair, holding him gently but firmly. “Don’t be sorry,” you said, voice sultry and slow. “You were perfect.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and wrecked, and you leaned in, brushing your lips over his cheek with a wicked smile.

“We’re just getting started.”

[rainbowpunki]

👋 hello! This is my new account, I'm Freddy, AKA tontoemojis / animatronicthing / animatronicfreak on Discord. I just wanted to address all that has happened in the past month! Apologies if my english isn't good or my explanations aren't the best, I just wanted to share my thoughts & my side of the story now that I am in a better place to talk. First of all, I assume my private DMs have already been leaked, so I will leak some from my side too! Just to include proof, of course. Second, this will be a long long long post, careful!

I will go through all the points of the list of "things Freddy has done".

First point. If we remember, I am schizophrenic, this can lead into me having big delusions such as me believing I am a god, god of my own world. Now, I never forced anyone into treating me like a god / referring to me as a god! I believed Iggy & me had a dynamic of god / servant, but I never truly believed he was my literal servant, just a dynamic. & !!! my poor poor victim was calling me a god every time he could, drawing me as the god of the sun & practically worshiping me, as he said various times. I never forced this onto Iggy nor did I ever get upset if he didn't "worship" me because I didn't need anyone to worship me, as I had said before, "I was not the type of god that would like people worshiping me".

Second point. For this I have to remark that we are both 16yo teenagers, I would get it if I was like 5 years older than him, then the whole thing would be different, but we are less than 20 days apart. I can see how the dynamic of deity & worshiper can be unhealthy if handled wrong, or done by mentally ill minors (like us). I understand the mistake here & I am sorry for that.

Iggy seemed to really like our dynamic from what he told me almost every week though, so I thought I had green light to keep our dynamic goint.

Third point. Not true! We were in an old server called Bangerville that has now since been deleted, so I don't have any solid proof to this other than my words. I do have proof of our old conversation with Iggy's old account though. CW for sexual stuff ⬇. In this server, Iggy was showing off his new OC named Julius & I really liked him, I drew him & from what I remember; Iggy told the people to DM him if they wanted to know more facts about him, & I DMed him, & Iggy started with the NSFW, not me!

Partially not true. I did draw porn of Iggy & me, yes, but it was all with consent, while that doesn't make it less weird in your eyes, it was with consent. + Iggy really liked it from what he constantly told me everytime I drew him, with & without sexual intent.

Fifth. I couldn't find any proof that I ever said "I will hurt myself if you are not with me / leave me" in our DMs, so I will guess this is also false. I probably did imply in some of our conversations that I relied on Iggy for emotional support (because that is what partners do???? Help each other out & be there for emotional support?????), but not completely.

Sixth, while in the list it says "detailed bulge" K9 accused me of drawing my brother's Roblox avatar with an erection, an erection. The drawing & the references are here:

if you tell me THAT is an erection then you haven't seen a man in underwear or a bodybuilder in your life. Because that is not a fucking erection & y'all are acting crazy! It could be seen as a detailed bulge, yes, but I have said before to K9, I just copied the image. You guys are overreacting & acting as if I drew porn of my literal brother.

In the group chat K9 & the others made with me, they just told me how it seemed I was fetishizing fat people by drawing my fat OC in just sexual light (which is simply not true). They didn't tell me how they really felt about my OC.

This is the character we are talking about. His name is Bonnie & I've had him since 6th grade. He is a monster that uses his human appearance to lure men & then eat them alive. His nature is being an asshole, basically.

A) I genuinely cannot see how he is a "black caricature", I would like to hear how he is stereotypical / a caricature, because I simply cannot see it. B) Why can't my fat character be sexualized? Are fat people not allowed to be sexual just as much as skinny people? is it because I'm bodily skinny? & if that is the case, why can't skinny people have fat sexualized OCs? I don't get it. Also, the sexualization in question was me drawing Bonnie topless (apparently big tits are sexual now!) & that last drawing of him mentioning a vibrator, that was all the "sexualization" they are talking about.

again, the sexualized pieces were Bonnie topless & the drawing of him mentioning a vibrator. Yes, I should have put a higher age limit to my server due to various reasons other than these, that is very true & I appreciated that K9 & the others brought it up to me. I didn't appreciate that they raided my whole server while I was asleep, though.

While I apologized for this already, it got included in the list & I don't know why. But again, I apologize for it once more, I spoke over minorities & I understand my mistake.

ouch! I mean... I have narcissistic traits, which means I have a harder time taking criticism, I often think people are attacking me whenever they criticize me, & that's on me & me only, they are right. I will be better next time.

This is just false, like, blatantly false. I couldn't find a single message of me defending proshippers to Iggy in our DMs, nor do I remember ever doing that. This actually surprised me because when a proshipper joined my server I was the 1st one to go running to Iggy's DMs screaming "THEY'RE A PROSHIPPER!!!".

when all of this went down, I was in a bad mental state & Iggy knew this. When I get overwhelmed (& I did get overwhelmed in the situation) it is hard for me to understand some things. I don't see how having somebody else to explain the situation to me in a more simple way is bad. I felt attacked, true. & if you count saying "I love you" to someone as praising them, then yeah, I was constantly being "praised" by Iggy while this situation went down, but I promise you I would've lived without all of those "I love you"s.

Begging? begging. Also the people were asking for an Iggy appreciation channel, not a channel just for Iggy. Also also I would love to hear which other horrible behaviors I had because of my NPD!

I don't know if Iggy liked those jokes genuinely, or if when he said stuff like "LIKE DUDE WHEN YOU WERE CALLING ME A LAZY ASS I WAS LITERALLY LIKE (emoji of yellow guy in a puddle)" he was lying to me, but I guess he did lie. I would have never ever called him any of that if I knew he didn't like it, I went on with it because I thought he was genuinely comfortable with those jokes made about him because he told me that everytime I made a joke like that & thought he was mad at me, he was just "turned on" (his words, not mine).

I did ask him to be my "caregiver", yes, but in this situation I saw being a caregiver as being a normal partner; helping each other out when needed, understanding each other's needs & know how to fulfill them. I did tell Iggy whenever I felt bad & wanted to relapse, & I guess that's on me for thinking my partner could help me deal with hard thoughts I had regularly, because you know, partners are there to help each other out.

& what about you K9? do you not have a channel made just to shit talk the people in your server, where your staff has told repeatedly other people to "jump" or harm themselves? I've seen it, I've been staff in your server for a while, you know. That's all the list, sorry I couldn't add any more images; I reached the limit. They've also told the people how I "used Iggy sexually". Which just hurts me deep in my soul, because I loved him with my whole heart, & hearing how he tells everyone that I "used" him just shows me how he never really saw everything I did for him. I drew him almost everyday, I made him gifts, I helped him whenever he felt he was going to relapse, I gave him my money so he could pay his medicines, I WAS PLANNING TO GO TO SWEDEN JUST TO SEE HIM. It is true he sent me sexual content, but I sent him the same sexual content he sent me. I thought we were in an equal relationship, but I guess we weren't & he never told me anything he was thinking. I've done things wrong, yes, but I didn't deserve my private things to be thrown to the world like this. I don't hope bad things happen to neither Iggy or K9 & the server, I just hope the universe gives you what you deserve.

[neediestwhore]

collegeau; shitty bf! sukuna x sweet!reader

a/n; let's just be honest with ourselves, if you were to ever date sukuna, he would be a shitty bf.

cw; manipulation, cheating, insecurity, alcohol

how does it feel y/n? to spend hours getting ready, trying to look good for your indifferent boyfriend? the amount of time you spent in the shower, exfoliating your skin and shaving. the effort you put in to concisely do your makeup right and pick the best outfit for the date that YOU planned with sukuna.

how does it feel constantly trying to get your boyfriend's attention when all he does is want to fuck you and ghost you afterwards?

if you had a choice to go back in time and pick a different partner for yourself, you wouldn't take it. loving sukuna is apart of you and a promise that you'll keep to him. you promised that you would never leave him. and so you kept in, but instead of cherishing that promise, his sick mind decided to take advantage of your kindness.

sukuna is not a good boyfriend, he gets hard by your tears and sexualizes everything, he sees you as nothing else but a good fuck.

it hurts because he was sincerely sweet towards you in the beginning, his eyes would glimmer whenever he saw you. looking into his eyes now, all you see is apathy.

you begin to constantly reminisce the euphoric times you spent together, when both were genuinely happy together. you wished everything could go back to how it was but reality dawned when sukuna arrived home, smelling like alcohol.

"sukuna..i thought you said you were just going for dinner with some friends and you would be home before 10, look at the time now, kuna...it's 3 in the morning. i didn't sleep at all, worrying about you." you mumbled meekly.

"yeayeayea, shut your fucking trap, bitch, you and your goddamn mouth always yapping in my ear for everything i do." sukuna snarled.

your eyes brimmed with tears from his harsh words. but then again, it's always the same with him, he would reprimand you harshly for simply just caring for him. afterwards, he would act deceptively sweet towards you, kissing you on your forehead. it would always end the same, you fuck, you cuddle with him and his apathy towards you showed the next day.

was this really sukuna? the sweet guy that would always soothe you with his words and cradle you in his arms, reassuring you that he would never leave you.

well, he didn't leave you. that's good right? despite his apathy towards you, he was still your boyfriend. but you weren't the only one calling him your boyfriend for sure.

the day you found out he cheated, your hands trembled and your eyes were misted with tears. you had this urge to check his phone, and so you did. there were countless messages between him and multiple girls. they were calling your boyfriend petnames that you thought only you would call him. your heart shattered into fragments.

a fight broke out between the both of you that night, you kept on repeating "why? why? why sukuna?", you felt destroyed, ugly, and disgusting. absolutely no one would understand the insecurity that surfaced in you that night. your emotions were all over the place, you began to crumble and breakdown.

you were ugly right? if you were as pretty as the girls he texted he wouldn't have cheated on you. they were so beautiful, you felt as if you could never compare to them.

sukuna noticed how insecure you were and took you advantage. he coos with you with bittersweet words, assuring you that you're perfect and he would never do this to you again, it was just a mistake, he wasn't thinking straight. he didn't mean anything by it he just wanted to have some fun.

his words touched apart of your inner child deeply, he knew you grew up being bullied and deemed as unattractive, he knew you never felt enough for him. he was the only one that would love a disgusting human like you, right?

he cups your tear-stained cheeks with his hands, and kisses you. you wanted it but you hated it. how could he betray and act as if everything was okay? you were just his little puppet.

you gave in and made love to him. all for him to go back into his habit of cheating on you, comforting you and using you.

you can't do anything about it, you can't break free. you don't have the guts to cheat on him, you love him too much to even talk or glance at another guy.

you're stuck with sukuna.

[kaiserboom]

HOW CAN WE GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS if we just shared a bed?! ᯓ★

Context: when you guys been together for a long time- but they suddenly wanna break up with you! and to rub salt on the wound. they believe it's better to be platonic friends. (expect for Isagi who wants nothing to do with you) Pairings: Michael kaiser, Isagi yoichi. x fem! reader. (SEP) A/n: haven't been writing much... due to stupid assignments :sob: my requests are open I'm just a bit slow with answering em. YES this fanfic is based on a song. finally managed to post something bluelock.. Cw: pure angst. ooc?

Isagi yoichi

How can you look at me and pretend I'm someone you've never met?

Ever since he started going to that stupid place called "Blue Lock," the love he once showered you with felt off and hollow- like it was already worn out. Those energetic chats shifted from "My baby!" "My pretty girl" to just "Y/n." "Babe."

It was finally his day off, and you expected him to text, invite you out to hang out- or even ask you out on a date after all your his girlfriend, right? but he didn't. instead, he went home like It was any other day, as if the two of you weren't even dating.

To make it even worse, his friends started drifting away from you. You weren't exactly close with them, but Bachira, Chigiri and Hirori always referred to you as Isagi's girlfriend or Isagi's future bride. It was the only comfort you had in the mist of everything falling apart.

It felt stupid, yet at the same time, not. You were numb- and overwhelmed by a mix of anger and confusion. You couldn't understand what made him hate you so much. To clear your mind, you decided to go for a jog, lost deep in your thoughts. Your mind spiraled through a whirlwind of emotions and senses.

As you walked along a clear pathway on your right, you noticed someone in a hoodie. Expecting them to step aside, you kept your gaze ahead. But instead, they deliberately bumped into you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Watch it!" a sharp voice snapped.

"What! you came at me-" your tone shifted from pissed off to shocked as you looked up.

And there he was. it's Isagi.

He started at you like you were a creature, like you weren't even human.

"Shit." He muttered, rolling his eyes with visible annoyance. "Just fucking great!'

You looked at him, confusion clouding your mind. Desperate to shrink the distance, you reached out to give him a hug- after all, it had been months since you seen your boyfriend.

"Don't fucking touch me Y/n." He snapped, cutting you off from your expected movement.

Your eyes widened in further confusion. What was even going on?

"Sorry?" You managed to say despite, that your voice ached.

He groaned, sounding genuinely bored by your presence. His eyes burned with a kind of hatred you never thought you'd see from someone you loved. The face you reviced was dark and distant. Nothing like the man you once knew. Despite everything, you still loved him, and you always expected him to love you back.

Tears welled up, but you refused to let them fall. instead, you swallowed the ache and backed away slowly, your heart breaking into pieces.

"Of course your backing away! pathetic!"

Maybe he hated you now. Or maybe he never loved you. But deep inside, you knew one thing for certain. some part of you would carry this pain forever. Because loving someone so deeply, only to see them turn way from you, was a kind of heartbreak that never truly healed inside of you.

He gave you one more disgusted look, before he disappeared into the distance, you stood there. Alone on that path, feeling of the weight everything you'd lost, hope, love and that boy you once believed was yours.

And finally the tears you held, finally fall across your face. Spilling over and tracing silent, trembling lines down your face.

↓

Michael kaiser It was last December You were layin' on my chest

The cold air seeped in through the open window, but inside the room the only warmth came from your interlace bodies. You lay on Michael's chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, your fingers loosely fiddling with his hair. It had been a long day, and for a while. All you could think about was how safe and peaceful you felt in his arms.

He was your everything. your comfort, your love, your home. And you believed it would always be like this.

But then, he spoke softly, breaking the soothing silence.

"Y/n... I've been thinking about us. About everything."

Your brow furrowed, confusion creeping into your mind.

"What do you mean kaiser?"

He hesitated, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before he finally looked away, eyes distant and void of the warmth you remembered.

"I think were better off....being just friends."

the words hit you like a punch in the gut. Your breath hitched, and everything around you seemed fuzzy and slow.

"What?! Kaiser... no!? what are you saying!" Your voice cracked, trembling with shock and disbelief. the weight of his words sank deep inside of your heart.

"I just... don't think were meant to be."

He finally looked at you, eyes glassy but painfully obvious he avoiding your eye contact. The warmth in his gaze was gone. Replaced with something colder, something more depressing- something you didn't recognize.

Tears start to blur your vision, but you fought to keep them from falling. You clutched his shirt desperately, as if trying to convince him to rethink.

"Why?! did I do something to hurt you!?"

His shoulders sagged, and he looked away again.

"No. It's not you. I just need to.. focus on myself. I think it's better for the both of us."

"So.. your throwing it away? Just like that?"

the tears finally spilled over, and the sniffling sound followed after, the tears streaming across your face as if they couldn't be stopped. You clung to him, desperate to convince him once again- to rethink.

"Don't you love me! Please tell me this a fucking prank! kaiser!"

He looked at you, a flicker of uneasy feeling flashing across his face. but it was gone like a match.

"I'm sorry Y/n I love you so much. I'm doing this for us."

He slowly sat up, avoiding your eyes. You reach out begging him to reconsider.

"I'm so confused! if you love me? stay! don't leave me.. not without trying goddammit!"

He hesitated for a moment. His jaw clenched, his mouth felt like a desert. He sighs before softly speaking.

"I hope you find happiness, Y/n. You need it."

And then, he rose to his feet. He paused at the door, looking back at you. Finally managing giving you eye contact-his gaze was filled with unspoken pain, you never seen before.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye, I love you so much."

With that, he turned and walked away leaving you alone in your thoughts, the room was now freezing cold. No more of that warmth to keep you from getting goosebumps.

Tears streamed freely now. Your chest aching with the weight of what just happened. Your body trembled as you curled into yourself, clutching your knees to your chest.

As the night stretched on, all you could was cry. Silent broken tears, that felt like raindrops, carrying the grief and sudden emotional of loosing someone you truly loved.

Because different people tend to grief differently. even if they truly never heal.

NOTE: oh wow!! was going add Nagi but like he already suffering enough. and michael's one is longer cause he my fav duhhh

[xmads-omensx]

Soft Saturday thought: Noah isn’t used to others doing for him. He’s usually the one doing everything for others. Let’s say it’s a newer relationship and Y/N does something just because?

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

CW: mentions of burnout, difficult emotions? I’m not sure how to explain lol, not feeling deserving

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @tosoundlessdarkistare @bloody-spades @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986  @dominuslunae @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @overmydeadbodysblog @illmakeyousaywow @dsireland86 @missduffsblog  @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm @death-ofpeace-ofmind @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @kissestomyomens @flowery-mess @athenexe @anything-more-than-human @oobleoob @dollieomens @astronoids @pipidoll

“Hey this came for you.” You said, handing your boyfriend a package addressed to him.

“I haven’t ordered anything.” He replied as he took it from you, a confused expression on his face.

“I know.” You replied, with a knowing smirk on yours.

Noah opened the package carefully, his brows furrowed in confusion as he went. There was a hint of excitement in his eyes as he peeled back the plastic wrapping.

“Is this?” He asked, looking at you with pure shock on his features.

“Yeah.” You replied simply, kissing his head before picking up the rubbish from the package and walking to the kitchen to dispose of it.

He sat in the studio for a while, just looking at the item he had unwrapped.

After a while, he returned to the kitchen, still holding the package.

“Did you buy me this?” He asked.

You nodded, a smile on your face.

“Why?” He asked, placing the small Naruto figure on the island.

“I saw it and thought you might like to add it to your collection.” You shrugged.

“But this one is expensive.” Noah said in a quiet voice filled with disbelief.

“Not that expensive.” You replied. At least, it wasn’t expensive to you. Besides you wanted to make him happy.

“Baby come on.” Noah argued, you noticed he was actively avoiding looking at the figure that sat on the kitchen island.

“I wanted to get it for you. Okay?” You replied, getting a little frustrated at the fact that he wouldn’t accept the gift.

“Why?” He asked, seeming genuinely dumbfounded.

“I wanted to. You deserve it. You’ve been struggling with the burn out and working so hard on the new visuals, you deserve a treat.” You replied.

“This isn’t a treat babe this is insane.” He responded, becoming agitated.

“Baby. Just let it happen. Okay? It’s an action figure, not a house.” You replied, kissing his cheek as you passed him.

He stood there in the kitchen, now staring at the Naruto figure.

The concept of someone getting him something that he wanted with no obligation for him to pay them back was somewhat foreign to Noah.

He had never had someone buy him something just… because.

Noah could feel his heart warm in his chest as he picked up the figure, before walking up to his bedroom and placing it on the stand right below the TV alongside all his other Naruto figures that he had collected over the years.

This new one was by far his favourite.

That’s when he began to tear up.

He sat like that for a while, just looking at it as he softly cried. No sad tears. He was just shocked that someone cared about him enough to do something like that.

Noah slept well that night, and never again questioned it when you did something nice for him… just because.

[leggerefiore]

I think itd be hilarious if reader was kidnapped by the evil team leaders only for them to realize reader has SEVERE stockholm syndrome

guessing this is a yandere request...? I added volo

cw: yandere, dark content, kidnapping, uh bad ending ig in a way lol

characters: Cyrus, Volo, Lysandre, Giovanni

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ There was nothing but immense shame over his actions on his mind. This was a pitiful submission to woeful human emotions – He wanted to be rid of them, yet the thought of you escaping him made his stomach churn painfully and left him with worse insomnia than he already faced. It was a sickness – A genuine physical ailment that plagued him. His actions were pitiful. He despised them. But, having you in his grasp eased the harsh feeling that ate at his heart otherwise. You were safe. All the irrational thoughts that had plagued his mind faded. He could close his eyes for but a moment and finally rest. When you awoke, he was certain there would be harsh reality to face, but for now, those sickening emotions – his disgusting spirit – were at ease. He swallowed. Something in him dared allow him the ability to lay at your side. Your presence alone was enough to lull him into the sweet confines of unconscious.

☄️ When he awoke, it was to a weight on top of him. His heavy eyes opened. His arms had wrapped around whatever laid on top of him. Warmth soaked into him in a way that felt completely foreign to him. His gaze focused on what was on top of him. You. Your eyes were open and staring into his own bleary ones. Your hands were still bound carefully, but somehow, you seemed not at all bothered by your current situation. Cyrus quickly regained himself and moved you back to lay beside him. A whine came from you as you whined about not being able to cuddle with him properly. What were you talking about—? You should have been horrified, yet you looked more upset that he dared stop holding you to himself. He swallowed. Something was wrong here. You kept whinging so genuinely about wanting to go back to cuddling.

☄️ Soon after, your behaviour showed no faults or waning. You simply acted like this was some kind of normal relationship. He was out of his mind about the whole thing. It was illogical – You should have been afraid and angry, yet you clung to him and treated him like a normal partner. Even when left unmonitored and unbound, you never tried to flee the apartment. It was beyond his understanding. Truly, it should have been everything that he wanted, but the lucidity of the situation made accepting it nearly impossible. You seemed confused about why he questioned you when he did, simply stating that you only loved him. In the end, he supposes that this, too, must be an effect of spirit. His main worry then becomes what will become of you and himself when he finally succeeds in removing spirit. Assuredly, then, you would stay with him even still. It only seemed right.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ He felt nothing for his actions. Was he aware they could have horrible consequences? Certainly. Did he care? Perhaps, somewhere deep down. The merchant felt almost certain that he would get away with it. You were an outsider like him. The Galaxy Team would have a few common searches before ultimately giving up and deeming you AWOL or likely dead. He hoped for the latter, but he had failed to set up a proper scene to help better lead them to that conclusion. His decision to take you had been made entirely on the fly. Not his best moment, but he supposed his careful planning, coming into danger alongside you threatening to abandon him, set him off in a way that he had never truly felt before. Simple desperation had consumed him. You had been dragged off to a remote, hidden area of Hisui. It was unlikely that anyone would ever find you, nor would you get away.

⭐️ When you awoke, he had expected you to shout, scream, and attack him, but you seemed to relax instead. He thought your behaviour was strange. There was a chance that you were doing it in order to force yourself to have better control of the situation. He would scoff at that. You were bound quite carefully and in an extremely remote area. Your pokeballs were also taken by him. You were truly st your weakest point. So, when you smiled at him and asked what this was. He felt his mind break a bit. Your smile… Was this manipulation? He pondered what your game here was. Unlike you, he would not allow himself to relax. Whatever act this was… Your seemingly genuine affection and acceptance… He would see through it. Volo was fully aware of many things.

⭐️ … Except how genuine you were being. Your apparent affection and love for him never lessened, nor did it seem forced. Your feelings were genuine. He was bewildered by this. Even when he tested you by leaving you unbound when he “left,” you simply began to household duties or wait for him to return. He was astonished by this. This was not at all what he predicted, but he was supposed to were not the worst possible things. Your genuine love… He could only smirk. Taking you as he had felt so useless now… It was clear that you were not going anywhere. Those foolish concerns felt completely far off from himself. It was easy for him to lose himself in it all. His perfect world… He could feel it so closely when he was with you. The blond could not wait to truly make it a reality. Your shared love would only grow stronger there.

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ It was not his best moment. Not by far. There was a part of him that burned with shame, while a larger part simply accepted that this was just how things were going to have to be. He had become frightened. Your refusal to join Team Flare – and even daring to attempt to flee from him – was driving him to extreme lengths. Losing you, such a beautiful and perfect being, was not an option. So, he used his connections and secured you quite easily. His Lumiosian apartment was soundproof, so there was little concern for anything. It was kept carefully locked, too. You would be safe here until he finally used to the Ultimate Weapon to create a perfect world. He would have all your needs and wants tended to, yet he would absolutely make certain that you could not dare escape from him. That was simply something that he refused to accept. Whatever disgust he may have felt for his own actions had to be cast aside in favour of your believed best interests.

☕️ So, when you awoke, he readied himself for curses and threats. The worst would come before the better… Yet, you did not. Your eyes stared at him intently while seemingly figuring out your surroundings. Then, you smiled. A genuine smile. One so sweet and loving that he found himself at a loss for words. What… was this? While Lysandre knew that his actions had been for your best interest, he had not expected you to feel similarly. Well, he assumed that was how you felt. You only asked that he unbind you. He did so, readying himself again for a possible violent outburst, but it never came. Instead, you hugged him tightly and mumbled out about your love for him. He was shocked into silence. This… This was not at all a predicted response – especially with how you had tried to run quite literally just before. Part of him remained on edge this was fake, but the other more desperate half just wanted all this to be real.

☕️ Naturally, he tests you to see just how real your actions are. You continue to shock him with how you genuinely seemed to be in love with him. He describes your behaviour patterns to one of those in Team Flare, and they note that you had likely developed Stockholm syndrome. Quite quickly, they added, but your behaviours did align. He felt disgusted yet contented that such behaviours had been drawn out of you. You still refused to join Flare, but he supposed that was alright since now he could protect you more directly. You would be following after him whether you wanted to or not – And you almost seemed to want to if it did not involve his group. He supposed that whatever feelings you held for Flare were pointless since you would be joining him in his perfect world. You were his lover, after all. That was something you had made more than clear in your constant demands for his affection and attention.

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 It was easy to arrange and done with little hesitation. Giovanni was quite used to taking what he wanted with little question. So when you, a trainer who started opposing Rocket, had denied him what he wanted. Well, he simply took matters into his own hands. It was a bit of annoyance having to deal with you constantly disrupting his plans and making him look weak to his underlings. You even had the gall to deny his offerings of joining his organisation, stating you were above his criminality. He wanted to scoff. Trying to run from him… How utterly useless that had been. You were taken deep into one of his safehouses as he debated just what do with you when you woke up. Screaming and crying would be annoying to deal with usually, but some part of him was excited to see you at such a low point.

🟥 That was not to come, however. When you finally woke up, you were a bit shocked, yes, but seemingly calmed down once you saw the Rocket boss. You struggled against the cuffs that trapped your wrists to the headboard. He cocked a brow when you asked him politely to unlock you. Giovanni only replied by leaning over you to intimidate you and threaten that you were not in a place to make demands. But, instead, you tried to rain up to meet his lips. The older man was shocked momentarily before chuckling. Oh, what was this? Were you attempting to fawn over a fight or flight reaction. Fascinating. There would be no complaints from him on such things. You could not pull a fast one on him, either. He would be careful to observe just what you were doing and why.

🟥 Though, he was stunned to see you never faltered. This apparent love you felt for him was real enough. You were insistent enough that he let you have some freedoms that he did eventually relent. When he finally did, there were no true escape attempts. At worst, you tried to follow him out whenever you felt that he had failed to give you adequate attention, but it was not really an attempt at fleeing and regaining your lost freedom. He was fully aware of what had happened to you. This was not his first time observing such a thing, but he supposed he quite preferred it when it was someone that he had an interest in over some random target that his group brought in for whatever reason. Due to your strong feelings for him mixed with your desperation to stay near him, it was not hard to convince you to take his offer to join Rocket this time around. Whatever oddities had brought about the situation, he could only be happy that it brought the exact results he wanted.

[idkfitememate]

I really like your stories, especially about the Creator otter. It would be great if when the truth is known, they take the Creator otter to the "true creator" and when he tries to hurt the otter, the attack returns on its own or something happens. to prevent him from harming the beautiful otter and so it is known that he is the true creator, I imagine he would have many more pamperings than before

The Otter Chronicles Pt.3

⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2.2k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Angst, some fluff, many mental breakdowns

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I. Am. So. Sorry. You have been waiting for months for this but I didn’t know how to continue and then I got writers block and UGH-

But I’m here now :). And your gonna get your wish :3

Future note, this will probably be split up into at least one more chapter because I know for a fact I won’t be able to write all the idea, plus, I have an idea on how to finish it!!~~

As you snoozed peacefully, the quiet seemed to seep into the room, suffocating everyone within it.

“So… the otter sat on your lap… sleeping… that’s the creator?” Finally, Wriothesley broke the silence that had consumed the room, making Furina jump and you chitter under your breath, snuggling into her stomach.

“Do we have any proof?- I mean, besides what happened with the Primordial Sea-“ “Do you need more evidence?” Neuvillette interrupted. His face was stern and cold, hands gripping at his pants.

“Well… it’d be nice to at least know for certain?” Wirothesley sighed out, a hand pressing to his forehead. He leans forward in his seat and took a breath before speaking again. “I mean, genuinely, can’t you see where I’m coming from? Sure, you might trust your gut or whatever magical power you’re keeping from us, but this is a little hard to believe for a guy like me. I mean, who knows! Maybe it was coincidence the Primordial Sea went back into the lock!! Because I’ve personally never seen a creature besides a human jump in there, have you? Maybe it’s all just one big joke I just-“ He stopped, huffing, hands shaking.

“I… we gave our everything… to the Creator. And now I’m finding out it was all a lie? If it’s true, and they really are THE Creator… then I’ve just been lying to myself?? That everything I’ve went through, every trial I’ve faced, every man I’ve stared down as we sent him to his death, every challenged I’ve faced… that i convinced myself that I would get through for them… that it was just a test to prove my worth… my loyalty… would it be for nothing..? I’ve…” The man stood up, chair knocking back behind him as he rose, tears staining his cheeks. Neuvillette also stood, putting a hand in front of Furina. Chlorinde simply sat with hands drawn to her lap.

“I’ve devoted my LIFE to them!! I’ve given my EVERYTHING to THEM!! I thought… I THOUGHT… I THOUGHT THAT THEY WOULD SAVE ME FROM THIS DAMNNATION OF SOULS GRIPPPING TO MY CHEST, CRYING OUT THAT I COULDNT SAVE THEM!! MY SIBLINGS, MEN I KNEW COULDNT HAVE BEEN GUILTY AND AND- YOU WANT TO SAY ITS ALL BEEN FOR NOTHING?!?” “CALM YOURSELF WIROTHESLEY!-“ “NO! BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”

A shouting match began between the two men, Chlorinde jumped up and wrapped herself around a now shaking Furina who was about to cry again, holding your form close to her chest. As the men screamed at each other - and teacups started being thrown - you finally stirred, opening bleary eyes at the scene unveiling before you.

Why were people screaming..? What… You looked up to see Furina shaking and silently sobbing over you, Chlorinde hushing her and whispering into her ear, though you couldn’t hear what she was saying. Wriggling around enough to face the shouting, your eyes widened at the sight of Neuvillette and Wirothesley screeching at each other, both Visions glowing wildly at the emotions of their wielders.

It was getting to a point where your ears were starting to hurt, so you leapt of Futuna’s lap, which led to her and Chlorinde whipping their heads to you, and ran over to the shouting men. You didn’t know what had come over you, seeing them both fight - something you never thought you would’ve witnessed honestly - and ran between them paws raised. Both paused for only a second, before Wirothesley started arguing again and Neuvillette followed. You tried to chitter and call over both of them, not getting anywhere with their raised voices.

You took a deep breath, focusing. This had been something you wanted to try since the beginning but just never had the time nor the energy to do so. But if there ever was a time, now was it. Your brows furrowed as you focused on any and all water in the current room, imagining the water following your command, as though alive and you its master. You grunted, catching Furina’s attention as she called for you to come back.

Cups suddenly started shaking in the room, only the Archon and Dualist taking note. It also didn’t help that the entire building was surrounded by water, though luckily you were able to mostly focus your attention on the small bits of water in the room. Neither Wriothesley or Neuvillette stopped to look at you as you raised your little paws to your head, the shouting mixed with your focus bringing on a headache.

Finally, it came to a close when Wriothesley shouted at the top of his lungs; teacups shattered and liquid swirled around the room, tea and water and otherwise swimming around the room like a raging typhoon, slamming into walls and knocking over objects. Finally the Duke and Sovereign stopped looking just as shocked as the Duelist and Archon. You pressed your paws forward, all the liquid slamming onto the arguing duo, pushing them into wall on opposite sides of the room.

Neuvillette looked remorseful while Wriothesley was shocked, eyes as wide as possible and jaw slacked. After a moment of silence you dropped your paws, allowing the two to fall to the floor drenched and standing in puddles.

“Holy… Holy Shit. They are the…” Wriothesley looked towards Neuvillette who nodded. Wriothesley fell to his knees, hands gripping at his hair and tears filling his eyes.

“All my life… was a lie?” You rushed to his side before he could spiral, rapidly chittering and crying, wishing you could speak so you could comfort him. In fear of another argument you began to cry. You sniffled and placed paws on his arm, practically begging him not to fall down that dark hole of spiraling thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your head. Fingers gently carded through your fur, and you looked up, meeting Wriothesley’s eyes. They were still teary, filled with grief and sorrow, but there was something behind it, something bright.

“Mm… don’t cry little guy. I didn’t mean to uh… scare you?” His smile was shaky at best. You whined and climbed into his lap, paws pressed to his cheeks and small kitten-licks to the tears he evidently didn’t know about, rubbing away any others you couldn’t get. His eyes widened, quickly trying to rub away any stray tears he caught.

The others watched the scene, not daring to speak. Eventually Wriothesley picked you up to stare at you. All his life had been spent worshiping one person, they fell from the sky one day, and he figured that’d be it. He got live in the generation that saw the return of their blessed Creator. Never to have them look him in the eye or anything.

But here you were. An otter. And you had already done so much more for him than the Creator had in such a short amount of time.

It would take a while, he figured, till his mind really did say that you were, in fact, the real and true Creator, till his mind could finally let go of the notion that he’d never get to see them because here you were, in his arms, caring for him.

“… Y’know… you’re a pretty cute little otter.” Everyone’s eyes snapped over to him when he spoke, more tears falling from his eyes. You squirmed around, desperately trying to get close enough to wipe them but were caught off-guard when instead Wriothesley wiped tears out of your eyes.

You cried, squirming in his arms to wrap your own around his neck. Everyone was silent as this happened, watching as his arms gently curled around you, slowly breaking down.

Neuvillette turned away, ashamed that he had lost his cool, and watched as Furina got up from the couch and walked over to you and Wriothesley. She couched down and sat beside you both, laying a head on Wriothesley’s shoulder.

You chirped quietly into the mana chest, letting him silently sob into you.

Only the sound of moving water disrupted the calm.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍯🧁🥥୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

That meeting was weeks ago, and now your little group was coming up with a plan to bring this news to light before all the other nations.

It had been well established to them that creatures of Teyvat, from small bugs to the largest beast, would all listen to you under any and all circumstances.

Like now.

While they all spoke under the moonlight inside Wriothesley’s office - one of the most secretive places in all of Fontaine - you swam just outside the walls in a raft of otters, all in all just having a fun time until the inevitable.

The rebellion.

Naturally everyone in the room was pissed, especially since it had been years at this point that that false ‘Creator’ had sat on a throne that was rightfully yours. They could see the effect your presence had on Fontiane.

The sun shone brighter, the water seemed clearer, less Meka broke down, flower bloomed easier, crime even dropped. It was great.

Everyone and everything seemed and felt happier.

Much happier than with that fucking liar.

A map of the large, floating Sanctuary and Shrine that was supposed to house the Creator was laid out across a table, specific entry point circled in red.

“Next week marks the beginning of the *Creator’s Walk. Defenses will grow as this week passes but the first day of the walk, there will be no Acolytes.” Neuvillette broke the silence by pointing towards the circles on the map.

“But they’ll still be in the perimeter. I should know, I was apart of the last Creator’s Walk.” Chlorinde spoke up, adjusting her hat. “I can’t think of any entrance we may have left ungraded, even if from a distance.”

They were silent as they thought. The Creator’s walk was a Month Long holiday where the Creator would walk nation to nation - by themselves - in order to hand out blessings, push back monsters for a following month of no attacks and to retrace their original path between Nations, a show that they were all still connected.

The quiet was broken by the sounds of you chittering, the door opening and revealing you wrapped in a Melusine themed towel, Sigewinne trailing right behind you.

“Thank you Sigewinne for returning them to us, now if you would mind-“ Neuvillette started but was interrupted by the Melusine, “You’re talking about the plan right?” Everyone stared at her while you took it upon yourself to climb into Furina’s lap.

“How did-“ “Uh, duh. I’ve known all along? I would’ve figured you’d have guessed that by now, especially with all the other Melusine and Meka treating them so great? Come on Monsieur Neuvillette, you’re smarter than that!” The sentence was ended with a giggle as she skipped over to the still shocked older man.

Neuvillette shook himself from the sudden stupor, sighing and nodded, before his eyes lit up.

“That’s right. We have all the Meka of Fontaine on our side. They’d do anything for ma moitié. How in Archons name did we forget we have an entire army on our side?” Everyone stared at Neuvillette sheepishly, shrugs and mutters filling the room. Neuvillette sighs and hangs his head, but quickly rebounds.

“Well in that case, most Nations haven’t fought our Meka-“ “But they have fought Ruin Guards.” Chlorinde spoke again. Neuvillette bit his cheek, she had a point. While Meka were different, it wouldn’t take to much the Acolytes to find weaknesses due to said Ruin Guards.

Silence again.

“The Local Legends and beasts alike could be of use. I mean, I doubt anyone’s fought giant crabs before.” Furina mentioned, though most of her attention was on you, drying you off and petting you.

“That is true, Lady Furina.” Wriothesley agreed. Eyes drew back to the map, taking in every spot on the thing.

“There!” Sigewinne was the one to point to a point on the map, near the back to the left of the large estate.

“What’s the spot?” She asked, Wriothesley took one look and responded.

“That’s a window to their wine cellar. Pretty unused but still guarded, why?” Sigewinne looked up with a grin.

“Because it’s closest to a body of water.” Chlorinde looked closely at the spot, and her eyes widened a bit.

“She has a point, and on top of that, while it is still guarded it’s much more lax, especially considering it’s not to far from where the ‘Creator’ will be leaving but far enough where anyone would doubt an entry. On the other hand, it could only appear that way.”

“That’s where Meka and monsters could come in.” Wriothesley started. “When we’re protecting the place we more expect other people than monsters considering they’re all scared of the place.”

The plan started to come together, more pieces being added and who should go first and so on and so forth. Furina was too busy playing with you to really care, but looked up with a confused expression.

“When are we going to tell the others? Vision users, I mean. And… how?” Everyone looked towards her.

“…Fuck.” And a new can of worms now needed to be opened.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : IM SO FUCKING SORRY I CANT DO IT!! I swear I will be keeping this idea in mind tho because I now have a plan to map out all of the creator stories I swear it I’m just tired omg I’m sorry but I hope this suffices for now-

… This is so disappointing I’m sorry-

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Mens with an S/o that always so happy and bubbly from the outside/public but at home they are actually tired and secretly crying in the bathroom while the shower is on so hoping that They wont hear the reader crying

I have been waiting to write this oh my gosh!! Love this idea, but just in case you're feeling like the reader, know it's okay to cry and if you ever need to talk to someone you're welcome to talk to me and I'll do the best I can to comfort you <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~All alone~༺}

CW: Angsty: Hidden emotions, crying, depression, some slight yelling in Xiaos and worried characters! Modern AU! (Pet names: Lyney: My love, Zhongli: Darling, Xiao: Flower, Kazuha: Honey, Neuvillette: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Xiao, and Kazuha!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyneys knuckles gently tapped against the wooden door of the bathroom, his voice sweet and filled with love "Mon amour, you alright? You've been in the shower awhile" ...although if you listened closely, you could hear the undertone of worries in his words. No matter how well you hid it in public, he could always sense you were off, he knew when smiles were genuine and yours rarely was anymore and no amount hiding in the bathroom could make your pain less noticeable to him.

Meanwhile you were on the other side of the door, knees pulled close to your chest and tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to breath in the mist filled room, the sound of the shower drowning out your soft sobs to the best of its abilities. You sniffled, trying to make your voice sound normal despite the emotions that were tugging at your throat, "Yeah honey! I'm fine! Just wanted to pamper myself a little!"

The magician sighed, slowly sinking to the floor... he wished so desperately you'd just let him in, let him lighten the burdens you were carrying, " Mon amour...I know that's not true. Please, let's talk.." You could barely hear him over your own mind screaming at you...worries and images of your issues dragging him down with you, drowning any ideas of actually accepting his offer to the bottom of your heart.

"I'm fine."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

You laughed out loud, others laughing along with you like everything was absolutely perfect...while Zhonglis yellow eyes saw otherwise, his gaze never leaving your sweet face. He could see it in your eyes, the way your laughter no longer sounded the same....the way you held yourself differently when others were around compare to when you were home alone with him. He just didn't understand why you weren't talking with him...why you were hiding your feelings.

Of course he wouldn't pressure you, he'd do his best to encourage you to lean on him...rest when you looked tired, do his best to show you how much he loved you, but it didn't seem to stop. You'd still disappear into the bathroom, shower running while he paced back and forth outside the door, wishing he knew more about human emotions, wishing he could just do...something.

"Darling, I'm here if you need me...I love you."

"Just taking a shower!....love you too!"

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao was panicking, all his life he'd never found love till he met you and now you were hurting in a way he didn't know how to solve. He thought you were happy, smiling and laughing like usual...but overtime he would notice that something had changed. You no longer laughed till you cried anymore and even when you seemed at your highest...you still had dark bags under your eyes, sadness clinging to your words.

Now he'd caught you crying behind a closed door, sobs barely audible over the sound of the shower running and breathing messy...uneven, you sounded like your heart was shattering. He couldn't stand hearing you sound so broken, standing there doing nothing to help you when one of the things he loved most was protecting you, so he teleported into the room..hoping you'd forgive the intrusion.

He was shocked at first, to see you curled up by the door crying, barely able to breath as you rocked back and fourth...he wanted to run to you, pull you into a tight hug, tell you he'd make it all okay if you asked, but he didn't want to startle you and make the situation worse, "Flower...I'm here...can I help?"

"Xiao?!? What a-are you doing in here!? G-get out!"

"I'm worried about you, you're hiding your emotions and pretending like your okay when you aren't...I just want to help you."

"You're not one t-to talk! You hide what you're f-feeling all the time! Just leave me alone!!"

"No, I'm not leaving here until I figure out what's going on. I haven't waited thousands of years to find love and let it slip away because I didn't offer comfort when I should have!"

You covered your ears and opened the door, "THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE WAITED L-LONGER!"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha sighed, humming against the doorframe while he thought of your wonderful smile that always made his heart race...and your bubbly personality that contrasted so well with his calm collected one, but lately things hadn't had the same magical loving feeling they used to, even his poems barely made a glint in your eyes, you just seemed so put out. Even after sleeping, when he'd try to hold you close and make sure you rested comfortably in the morning, you'd almost instantly pull away...leave to take a shower.

"Hey honey, you doing okay in there? I don't want to bother you...I've just noticed you seemed to be feeling down more often. I guess I just...worry about you. I love you and I want to make sure you're happy..." The shower flicked off as he finished his sentence and for a split second he had hope you would talk with him, but when the door opened, you stood in front of him wrapped in a towel...eyes red and puffy, and that same fake daunting smile on your lips.

"Kazuha honey, what're you doing outside of the door? Were you talking to me? I didn't hear anything..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[muletia]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 ₊˚⊹♡

obsessed!smokescreen x human!reader

summary: you and smokescreen are trying to watch a movie, but his irresistible and constant need for closeness stubbornly gets in the way. will you make it to the end? (spoiler: you won’t)

cw: fluff, suggestive, obsessive thoughts, unhealthy clinginess, possessiveness, very mild not nsfw dub-con, biting/marking, very light manipulation from smokey

word count: 1570

Your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Consciousness drifts into another dimension, and your head slowly tilts forward further as you lose contact with reality and embrace sleep with open arms. But alas, sleep is not meant for you—not yet. Your boyfriend is keeping watch, ensuring you continue your fight to stay awake. And when he's near you, he seems unusually attuned to moments like these.

"Hey, hey, don't drift off on me now," he pleads, voice desperate, because this isn’t your first slip-up. "We just started the movie!"

"Ah, sorry," you mumble, rubbing your face to try and wake yourself up, which works. For now.

Your attention returns to the flickering TV screen in the garage, and for a moment, you really do feel alert. You're not proud of how easily you drift off, especially with company, but the day's events are catching up to you, pulling your eyelids downward. You’d promised him you’d finally finish this movie together— you’ve both tried to get through it multiple times, only to be interrupted every single time by something—or rather, someone.

That someone is none other than your personal heater sitting next to you, the primary disruptor of your small private movie nights.

And, as you catch him from the corner of your eye, it's clear he’s got a new idea for spicing up your passive movie-watching routine. His broad smile is utterly contagious, and you fight hard not to let your lips curl. It’s endearing, but you’re not falling for it—not yet. You know exactly where this evening will go if you give him your attention. After all, you’ve lived this scenario many times before.

"Optics on the screen," you chide softly. "We just started the movie, hypocrite."

"Oh, I am watching," he replies, with mock indignation.

"Not me!" you sigh. "We’re not restarting this movie for the tenth time. Look at the screen." You motion toward the brightest source of light in the room.

He knows he should listen. He’s the one who suggested the movie night in the first place. He also chose the film—one of your favorites—because he wanted to experience it with you, to watch your reactions, hear your thoughts, and discuss it afterward. All of it was just a way to interact with you, to be showered in your attention. To absorb it like the finest energon, savoring its addictive sweetness.

It’s not his fault that everything you do is infinitely more interesting than any fiction on the small screen. Sure, he likes human culture and finds it genuinely fascinating—but only because you’re at its center. You’re the one who reveals its secrets, who offers him glimpses of the daily life he so desperately wants to be a part of. Watching movies together lets him simulate that life. He knows he should use every chance to learn more about your world. The problem is, he can’t focus.

It’s not as if there are moments when he thinks of you more or less. No—he’s always thinking about you. Seven days a week, every hour of Earth’s solar cycle. During missions, patrols, recharge—even when he’s with you. It’s suffocating, overwhelming his processor, a constant need to express his untamed emotions, but with no outlet to relieve the ever-growing weight.

Having you by his side is wonderful—feeling your scent, your warmth; brushing shoulders and sharing a blanket. But, ever ambitious, he needs more. Thoughts of you provide only fleeting satisfaction, failing to meet even a fraction of his desire. They leave him helpless once again.

Smokescreen doesn’t want to be just an observer anymore, a witness to the action around him. Those days died with Cybertron.

He wants to feel, touch, and explore, even though he already knows every inch of your body—every mole, scar, and birthmark. Alien, but captivatingly beautiful. Unparalleled softness. Addictive. Meant to be worshipped and adored. It’s no surprise his servos fit your curves perfectly, as if you were made for each other—not just in spark, but in body too. No stimulant could compare to the euphoria of adoring you. No human cinematic masterpiece, no mission, no praise from Optimus Prime himself.

"You’re incorrigible," you sigh. "You just missed the most important part."

Suddenly, he realizes he’s spent the last several kliks staring only at you, fantasizing about physically expressing all the emotions roiling within him. His servos are trembling now, and he has to touch you—to prove how much you mean to him, how vital you are in his life.

Electricity courses through his frame—a signal of surpassing limits. He’s nearing a breaking point, teetering on the edge of abandoning the careful balance of your relationship. Can’t let that happen. He accepts destroying himself, allowing his yearning for you to dictate his sanity, but no scars could ever mar your soul. No matter how many he bears himself.

His trembling servos find the fabric of your shirt and gently tug at it. Enough to send a signal, not to frighten. If you pull away—he’ll shatter.

"Hey," he begins. You glance at him briefly, but your eyes quickly return to the screen. He tugs harder, practically pawing at your stomach now, desperate for attention. "Please, I don’t want to watch the movie anymore. We can finish it another time, can’t we?"

He knows he’s repeating himself, using the same lines he always does. It’s cheap and undignified, unworthy of someone whom even Optimus Prime considered passing the Matrix to. But his need has consumed him, taken over his frame and spark, which craves you so intensely that static buzzes in his audials. Every molecule of his being chants your name, begging for you.

He moves closer, exerting pressure. It’s a dangerous game, one that could easily irritate you. But he’s so desperate he has to play his cards on this gambit.

"I promise we’ll finish it next time, okay? [Name], please, I need you."

"We could also finish it tonight, hmm?" you offer.

"But I already missed the most important part."

"You’re smart—you’ll catch up on the plot." He sees your playful smile, teasing him with your intentions. But this time, he’s too overwhelmed to join in the game.

One servo continues tugging at the edge of your shirt while the other slides beneath it, cautious and precise—while he still has the control to be so.

You finally give in, unable to focus on the film any longer.

"Alright, I’ll hold you to that," you warn, finally turning your head toward him.

What greets you are wide, pleading optics, shimmering with need. Begging for you. Beautiful, but deceptive. Luring you into a trap. Or maybe you’ve already been ensnared? Enchanted into letting him do more—letting his servo wander further up, finding its way to your chest.

"Incorrigible," you murmur, tilting your head slightly to one side, exposing your neck—his canvas for the evening. "But at least I’m not sleepy anymore."

"Good," he purrs near your neck. Warm, processed air brushes against your sensitive skin. "I’m going to show you how much you mean to me. I’m afraid it’ll take a very long time."

Servos press tightly to your body, while dentas leave their mark, creating art from love bites—one of his favorite human inventions. Such a pity he couldn’t bear them himself—would flaunt them proudly if he could.

"I wish they lasted forever," he whispers, kissing the bruised skin, already intoxicated by your closeness, even though it’s only a fraction of what he craves.

"And I don’t," you admit. His response is a hurt whine, but Smokescreen quickly resumes his work, moving slightly higher. His marks always came out messy, more like bites than love bites, but he was so proud of them that you couldn’t bring yourself to criticize him. At least, not directly.

"One of my friends noticed them once. She thought I’d been mauled by a wild animal."

You feel him smile against your skin because it’s an accurate description of his love. Wild, untamed.

"Sorry," but it's also unimaginably tender. "But you like them, right? I’m good at this, aren’t I?"

"You’re unmatched, love."

Not sensing the sarcasm, he holds you tighter, as if he wants to merge you both into one being. Feels his trembling spark yearning for a bond, a union with yours. And while you can’t grant him that, the mere act of sharing the most intimate, vulnerable parts of himself is satisfactory. Not enough, because nothing ever will be. Just like the love bites, the most blissful interfacing, or kisses and cuddles. They work for a brief moment, a fraction of existence. They fill the void, which begins emptying the moment you part.

"I need more," he groans. "Please. I need you."

"I wish you were this eager about watching movies."

You reach for the remote because yet another movie attempt has ended in failure. Your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate your effort to put some distance between you, even for a few millimeters. His servos hold you firmly in place, and his dentas possessively catch your neck. Luckily, you don’t have to reach far.

"We’ll manage next time," he promises, though the absent tone of his voice makes it clear he’s lying. You know he won’t last. He’ll falter at the start, trying to make up for lost time by showering you with affection, though it’ll only be a fraction of what he wants to give.

"Hard to believe that."

"Mhm, love you too," he mutters, utterly enraptured by your closeness.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Slasher Handler Part 11 - Slip Lead

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Read on AO3

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Implied stalking/surveillance, implied kidnapping, physical injury, deception/emotional manipulation, physical violence, injury with knife, genuinely not enough information, hidden weapons

Something about stabbing him, about meeting Price, has resulted in you being able to stray a bit farther from Simon’s orbit. You’re still on a rather short lead, there is a list of unspoken rules between the two of you as long as your arm. But you’re going out alone more. You don’t feel Simon’s eyes on you every moment he’s out of your sight. It’s weird.

But when it comes to Simon, it’s best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So you start a routine of going to the cafe down the street twice a week or so to work and see other human beings. It’s surprisingly difficult, some days. More than once, you’ve felt too exposed and retreated back home. These days, you have more good days than bad. As long as people don’t talk to you too much, you’re fine.

So it’s a bit jarring when someone clears his throat while you’re wrangling spreadsheets.

The man is in a light jacket, tee shirt and jeans. Looks like he works out. Kind of a stupid haircut, but he’s at least committed to it. Very distinct looking, Simon’s voice says in your head, easy to track. Unlikely to cause problems.

Something about him makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

“D’ya mind?” he gestures to the chair across from you. At your skeptical look, he rushes to assure you, “ Jus’ fer mah coffee, ‘n t’read,” holding up a thick paperback. He gestures to the rest of the cafe. “Wouldnae bother you, but this’s the only open chair.”

The shop is unusually crowded. You frown up at him. “I’m really busy.”

“Willnae hear a peep from me,” he promises, setting down his coffee and pulling out the chair across from you. He turns the chair so he’s facing more of the room instead of the corner you’re in. And he opens his book.

You watch him for a minute, but he doesn’t look up. It’s hard to shake the feeling that something is wrong, but you do need to work. With a last wary glance at him, you settle your headphones over your ears - transparency on - and get back to organizing a data set that reminds you of a ball of duct tape.

It’s time for a break before you know it. Your companion, true to his word, hasn’t said a peep since he sat down, more than an hour ago. He barely looks up as you close your laptop before turning back to his book. He does look up when you flag down one of the servers.

“Lunch,” you say, inanely. To the server, you say, “Can I get the chicken sandwich today?”

“Chips ‘n a lemonade, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They turn to your table mate. “And for you?”

“The same, ah guess?” He raises his eyebrows at you, like he expects you to give him permission or something. He looks back at the server. “Yeah, a chicken piece for me, as well. ‘Nd a juice?”

“Separate checks?”

“Aye, ta,” the guy says. When the server leaves, he blanches. “Hope you dinnae mind.”

You do mind, but it’s not like he can sit anywhere else right now. “It’s fine.”

He sets his book on the table, and your eyebrows shoot up. Whatever you thought he’d be reading, Jurassic Park wasn’t it. He grins. “Ah ken. It’s old, yeah? But it’s a damn sight better’n the movie.”

“Isn’t that how it goes,” you say, vaguely. 

But you’ve already fallen into his trap. He turns his chair to face you, crossing his arms and leaning into the table. His eyes are unnervingly blue - somehow even bluer than Simon’s - and bright with interest. “’M serious. It’s not just that a character yells in the movie and speaks softly in the book, aye? In fact, the movie made Dr. Sattler older, aye? Great choice, emphasize ‘er expertise.” 

Aging up a woman character? You’re reluctantly intrigued. “She was a less important character in the book?”

“Nae,” the man scoffs. “She’s probably the first o’em to realize how shite the whole thing is. Notices things. Stuff the other’s aren’t payin’ attention to because she’s the plant expert, an’ naebody pays attention to plants.”

You find yourself drawn in, in spite of yourself. Johnny, as he introduces himself, has obviously been waiting for a chance to talk about it, but he’s not pushy. He excitedly pulls a pen from his pocket to doodle along with his explanations. By the time your food has arrived, he’s convinced you to at least try the audiobook.

“I cannae pay attention stuff in mah ears,” he says with a grin as he starts to dig in. “But I hear good things, if you don’t ‘ave time to sit an’ read the text.”

As you nod along, you look up and almost choke on your next swallow. Simon is outside, looking at you through the window with raised eyebrows above his usual black surgical mask. His eyes flick to give the man at your table an obvious once over. And then he turns away and walks out of sight.

“Ye alrigh’?” Johnnys’ eyebrows are up near his hairline when you look back at him. “Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y-yeah,” you say, torn between staying seated and the urge to run after Simon. You can’t help but look at the window again, but he’s gone, there’s nothing for it. “Sorry, I thought… Sorry. Yeah, I’ll get the audiobook.”

When you get home, Simon is on the couch, the TV on with the volume low. He watches you, like he always does, as you take off your shoes and shuffle around to put away your things. When you finally join him on the couch, you find that he’s watching a nature documentary. A crocodile slides under the water with barely a ripple.

“He was only sitting with me because there wasn’t anywhere else,” you rush to say.

Simon turns to cock his head at you. “You get ‘is name?”

“John. Johnny,” you answer. “He told me about his book, but I left as soon as we were done eating.”

“Good,” he says with a nod. He lifts the arm closest to you, pulling you close as you settle into his side. “’S good to have friends, Precious.”

“He’s not a friend. Just some guy out to lunch like everyone else.” 

“You let him stay,” Simon points out. He squeezes you in a rough approximation of a one armed hug. “Been nervous around people, but you’re gettin’ better.”

This isn’t what you expected. You can’t help but side-eye him. “You’re… proud of me?”

Simon’s lips press gently against your forehead. “’S long as you pick better this time, I don’t mind you ‘aving friends. Can’t keep you all to myself forever. ‘Sides, you’ve marked me proper, ‘aven’t you? Got me as your little pet. Johnny’s not gonna be a problem.”

The little pink scar around his ribs is little more than a raised line. You slide your fingers under his shirt to pet at it. Among all of his scars, it’s one of the smallest. You’d cried the first time he’d let you see under the bandages.

“You’re not a pet,” you grumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re an alligator who won’t leave my house.”

“Your alligator, now,” Simon agrees. He focuses back on the television, seemingly done with the conversation.

You could leave it at that. But you turn to face him, instead. “You’re not mad?”

“Not unless ‘e ‘urts ya.” Simon presses his lips against your hair. “An’ I wouldn’t let that ‘appen.”

The following week, though, he stands over you with an exaggerated grimace at how crowded the place is. “Och, d’ya mind?”

Johnny is there the next time you go to the cafe. He waves from his table, but ducks back into his notebook without waving you over. So you work from your own table in peace. When you take a break for lunch, he’s gone. Two days later, it’s the same. It’s easier to concentrate, now that you’re less worried that he’ll take the conversation from the other day as an invitation. 

With a sigh, you clear some space for him. But just like last time, he keeps to himself, reading and occasionally jotting things down in his notebook. It’s not until just before lunch that he breaks the silence.

“D’y’ve a boyfriend then?” You can’t keep yourself from cringing fast enough, apparently, because he laughs. “Sorry, sorry, shouldnae asked.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you grumble.

“Aw,” he coos. “Don’ worry hen. You’re right bonnie. Ah’m sure they’ll come around, whoever they are.”

That would be sweet, if it wasn’t so painfully off base. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Oh, you’re right done wit’ me,” he laughs. “Ah ken’t I shoulda kept mah mouth shut. Ma always said runnin’ mah mouth would get me into trouble. I won’t bother ye again.” 

You roll your eyes. “It’s fine. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

He doesn’t push, and you’re grateful. But when it comes time to pay for lunch, he insists on paying. It grates on your nerves. A gift from a guy is never just generosity, you learned that long before Brandon. But you clench your jaw and pack your bag up a bit more roughly than usual and say your goodbyes.

“They didn’t have the brownies you wanted,” you announce as you return home from the grocer, two days later. “I think it was a limited edi…tion…”

You notice Simon watching through the window, but he’s there and gone before you can get a read on his expression.

There’s a smattering of blood on the entryway carpet.

You don’t drop the bag with the eggs, but only because your muscles are locked up. Did someone break into the apartment? Was Simon here when they did, or next door? Did they leave? Did he take them?

A sound makes you gasp before you bite your tongue hard enough to taste blood. And then again, a muffled groan, close, from the direction of your couch. 

It’s not Simon’s voice.

You gently set your bags down and reach behind the coats for the blackjack Simon insisted on leaving there for security. There’s a rustling. Another groan. You stoop low, trying to make yourself a smaller target, and creep around the edge of the couch.

When you see Johnny, bound and gagged, shirt covered in blood where he lies on the floor, your stomach drops so fast you feel dizzy.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you whisper, dropping the jack with a thump. You crawl over to him, looking around frantically. Simon is nowhere to be seen. But he did this. He had to have done this. Right?

Johnny twitches, groans again, eyelids fluttering open. When he sees you, his eyes go wide, and he frantically tries to sit up.

“No, don’t! I don’t know where you’re hurt,” you hiss. You reach around his head to untie the cloth that’s gagging him. “Oh my god-”

“We gotta get out’f here, bonnie,” he grunts, leaning into your hands as you help him upright. He spits blood on the floor. “No tellin’ when that mental bastard gets back.”

“Oh god,” you whisper again, touching the front of his shirt. It’s dark and sticky in a bloom across his chest. “Where are you hurt? Did he stab you?”

“Ah’m okay,” he grunts. “A bit banged up, but ah’ll live.”

You swallow down the urge to vomit. “There’s a lot of blood, Johnny.”

“S’nae all mine,” he answers. “C’mon, untie me, before Simon gets back.”

You’re shifting to reach behind him before your mind catches up. You can feel the blood drain from your face. “W-what? What did you say?”

“We need to get out of here!”

“No, you said his name, you called him - ”

“Simon? That’s what ye called him when you came home,” he hisses. 

“No, I didn’t,” you whisper, body stuttering between frozen and electrified. You never call Simon’s name where others can hear. “And - and I - you - you were unconscious.”

Shining blue eyes stare into yours from two inches away. Johnny’s bloody mouth curls into a smile. “Oh, he’s trained you up good, he has.”

You scream when he lunges forward, huge arms grabbing at you. 

His weight crushes the air out of your lungs when your back hits the ground. You twist under him, using the arm he hasn’t trapped to grab his hair and yank. He swears, and loosens his hold just enough that you’re able to free your other hand and jab him in the throat.

You expect the way that he chokes, but the hand he’s twisted in the back of your shirt stays locked tight. He coughs out a frenzied laugh as you twist. Your heart races as he prevents you from getting your knees up between your belly and his. But he doesn’t expect you to hammer the heel of your boot against the back of his knee, or how you use the leverage against his leg to roll away onto your belly. 

He doesn’t let go of you, but that’s fine, that’s okay, as long as you can reach under the edge of the couch. Johnny pounces, body curling around you without quite pinning you down. His fingers twist into your hair in an echo of how you wrenched at him. But he doesn’t stop your hand, grabbing the leg of the couch and then reaching under and up and-

“Try again, Bonnie,” Johnny chuckles into your ear when your hand meets nothing but cotton and wood.

Your heart doesn’t have time to stop. The grinding pain between your hip bone and the floor makes you pop up your pelvis and reach down. The tiny knife, Little K, jumps to your hand. It’s so easy to flick it open, you think you almost cut your own belly as you heave. Johnny rides you for a moment, then pops up onto his knees to let you roll freely.

You don’t have time to decide, gut or femoral, you just swing. Denim parts, pressure - 

Johnny yelps.

His weight is suddenly gone, and the arc of your arm slams the back of your hand and your elbow onto the carpet. It’s a shock, almost hard enough to make you drop the knife. You flick your eyes around, nearly blind with tunnel vision, and see Johnny standing over you. His jeans are slashed, outer thigh almost to crotch, but you can’t see blood, fuck.

He sways, oddly. Is your vision swimming? He doesn’t descend on you again, though, just laughs and wiggles. One of his feet isn’t on the ground, his injured leg is dangling, did you get him?

You imagine you can see Simon’s face, a little angry and a little amused. If you die here, Johnny will live to see his own intestines, you know it. Even if you survive, he won’t. Simon might gift you another skull. The thought almost has a laugh bubbling out of you. 

“You stupid motherfucker,” you hiss. 

“Oh, now you’ve done it.”

Simon’s voice startles you into action. You’re off your back and scrabbling backward in and instant as he manifests behind Johnny. Except, you realize, that Simon is holding Johnny up, one arm snaked under Johnny’s and hand around the back of his neck. That’s why Johnny looks off balance, it’s because he is, because Simon is here, he’s going to save you-

“Did real good, Precious,” Simon says with a grin. “Knew you’d get along.”

What? “What?”

Simon says something else, but you can barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears. But you hear it when Johnny laughs. You see when Simon releases him with a ruffle to his mohawk and a shove toward the armchair. Before you know it, Simon’s scooped you into his arms and taken his usual seat on the couch. He pries the knife from your hand and snaps it closed. 

“Told you I was thinkin’ of gettin you a dog,” Simon rumbles, sitting you in his lap so your back is against his chest. Before you can protest that no, he never once mentioned a fucking dog, he continues, “This’n’s mostly ‘ousebroken, already. Soap needs a firm ‘and, but you c’n ‘andle him. 

Soap? What the fuck does soap have to do with anything? What kind of a name is…

"Oi!” Simon barks. “Off the furniture.”

Your stomach drops as you remember John Price, two months ago now. “Soap’s supposed to be my troublemaker, not you.” Soap.

When your wide eyes swing to him,  Johnny’s face is split into a toothy grin. He tips his head back against the seat of the arm chair. One of his hands touches the blood blooming through his jeans and brings it up to his lips. He laves his tongue over his fingers. “Ah’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ to know you, Bonnie.”

A part of you wants to get up and slit his throat. The rest of you slumps back into Simon’s chest and bursts into tears.

[bluemotifofsleep]

Haikyuu! x Souleater!Au

- the twins are both idiots that fight too much, but you’re stuck with them.

cw: swearing lol

alright, i did it. idk if this is going to be a multi chapter thing (probably), but here’s a little teaser of the haikyuu! x souleater! au. disclaimer: i haven’t seen soul eater in like, years and i’ve never read the manga so id say my soul eater knowledge is fairly minimal. this is definitely more of a mash up than a true au tbh. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

it was so damn hard to resonate souls when the twins were fighting.

which, lately, has been way too fucking often for your liking.

“i know ya ate it, ya lyin’ bastard!” osamu’s words are guttural, clearly genuinely peeved at whatever snack atsumu stole from him.

“i did not! we both know yer the bloody glutton between us! ya probably ate it and don’t even remember, fatsamu.”

“that sounds more like yer name than mine, dumbass!”

an arrow as fast as a bullet is headed straight for your face, grazing your cheek as you manage to barely get your head out of the way in time, no thanks to your so-called “partners”, currently deciding that food is more important than your well being.

“guys, can we fucking focus?!” there’s more arrows being shot at you, way too accurately for them to be bickering like this. you tumble clumsily out of the way, just barely missing one to the side of you.

“you tell ‘tsumu to apologize, and maybe i’ll consider resonatin’ with his grimy soul.” dodging the attacks is becoming more difficult with the weight of your dual-ended weapon becoming more and more lopsided, unbalancing you. normally you could just cut the arrows in half as they shot at you, but the double sided sword is becoming too heavy to lift properly.

“not gonna apologize fer somethin’ i didn’t do.”

assholes, both of them.

“look, i’ll buy you both more pudding cups if you just focus. think of all the shit we’re going to be in if we lose to a couple of first years.” the first years in question were closing in, backing you into a concrete corner of the outside of the school.

“it wasn’t just a puddin’ cup, it was the last buldak ramen pack, and the corner store is sold out!” suddenly, both of them become too heavy for you to hold, and they drop out of your hands and onto the concrete with a clang.

kageyama aims the giant bow he’s holding, and then he fires. you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing your soul for the blow, but it never comes.

he missed? both of the twins voices echo in your brain, mirroring your own surprised thoughts.

“hinata, you idiot!” comes kageyama’s booming voice, his face twisted in anger. the twins change back into their human forms beside you at the let up of attacks, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the clear end of the battle.

“how was that my fault? you’re the one aiming me!” comes the other first year’s angry reply, and you can’t help but feel relieved that your team isn’t the only one with issues.

as hinata and kagayama get completely submerged in their fight, you turn to atsumu, the blond looking indifferent and tired.

the twins always do this, getting into petty fights and never properly working it out, causing a build up of negative emotions that affect your ability to soul resonate with each other.

“atsumu, you’re damn lucky the first years are just as much of a mess as we are. it’s your fault we’re even here for picking a fight with kageyama.” you can’t even remember what he’d said to the first year, but clearly it was enough to piss him off to the point of wanting to fighting the three of you.

he looks like he’s barely registering your words as you walk back to your classroom, the sound of kageyama and hinata bickering slowly fading the farther you get from them.

“yeah well, goody-two-shoes tobio shouldn’t be so easy ta rile up, then.” you sigh at his stupid ability to get a rise out of anyone he wants, especially his equally stupid brother that’s currently flanking your other side, still huffing about his missing ramen.

the ramen that you ate, but you will never admit it to him.

maybe you’re just as bad as they are.

just as you’re about to enter the classroom, suna and aran walk out of it, almost bumping into the three of you.

“what’s with all the glum faces?” aran is the first to speak, clearly taken aback by the cloud of misery that floats over the three of you.

yeah, you guys probably look like a mess. there’s a big slice on your cheek from where the arrow hit you, and you’re pretty bruised up from the fight. the twins both have steam coming out of their ears at the unresolved tension between you three.

“don’t tell me you guys lost to those idiots.” suna looks perturbed at the thought of his classmates losing to the “idiot duo”, as he calls them.

when silence greets his words, he looks hysterical.

“no fucking way.”

“it ended in a draw,” you’re quick to defend yourself. “if these two dorks stopped bickering for one second, we could have wiped the floor with them.” the dorks in question were starting to fight behind you, grabbing at each other and yelling while suna snickers at them.

“yeah, i don’t know how you put up with them, honestly.” aran says, and you suddenly want to get down on your knees and beg him to trade weapons with you, even though you know that’s not how it works.

you also know, as much as they cooperate on the outside, suna and aran have their own problems as well. with suna being so lackadaisical, they have major power issues, suna always saying something about “conserving energy” to get out of putting in his all. and truthfully, as much as the twins bicker, they are both major powerhouses, something you’re grateful for.

although there’s not much use in being powerful, if they can’t even fucking get along. the thought comes to you just as the sound of their fighting reaches a crescendo.

alright, that’s enough.

you grab each of them by an ear, and drag them through the doorway into the classroom, ignoring their complaints. because although they are both powerhouses, you’re a powerhouse, too.

and you were going to make this trio work, even if it kills you.

———————————————————————————

atsumu and osamu:

hinata:

[jjmbbg]

"A wonderful night"

cw: dean winchester x fem!angel!reader (is this power dynamic?? maybe), protected sex p in v, explicit sexual content, strong sexual tension, emotional vulnerability (implied), light angst, religious references, alcohol consumption.

(pics from pinterest)

The night was heavy with the scent of rain, the kind that always seemed to follow you wherever you went, bringing with it the calming hum of distant thunder. But in the cozy cabin, tucked away in the mountains when they decided to flee to free themselves a little from the hunts, and everything felt quiet. Even the storm seemed far away, muffled by the walls and the weight of the air between you and Dean.

You hadn't expected this. You hadn't expected any of this—being here with him, the tension, the warmth, the way his eyes always lingered on you. But here you were, the night having unraveled in a way neither of you could have predicted.

Dean sat across from you, on the worn couch, his fingers lightly tapping against the empty glass of whiskey. His eyes kept shifting to you, always watching, always waiting for something. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move, to give him some kind of sign, but the truth was, you weren't sure how to start either.

You'd never been this close to him before, at least not in this way. Sure, you had your shared moments—some heated arguments, playful banter, moments where you both tested each other's patience. But this? This was different. This was a whole new territory you had no map for.

"You good?" Dean's voice broke the silence, low and smooth, the edge of concern lacing his tone. He leaned forward slightly, the faintest hint of vulnerability in his posture. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by something more raw, more genuine.

You swallowed, trying to find your voice. You were an angel, for crying out loud. You were supposed to be the one with the answers, the one who understood the intricacies of the world, but right now, you felt human—just like him. And that was... terrifying, but also intoxicating.

"I'm good" you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper.

Dean's lips twitched at the corners, as if he didn't entirely believe you. "You sure? 'Cause you're looking at me like you want to say something, but you're holding back"

You weren't sure if it was his voice or his eyes, but something made you feel like you were walking on the edge of something you couldn't come back from. The electricity in the air hummed between you, undeniable and thick.

"I've never-" You paused, unsure how to finish the sentence. It felt like the moment where everything could change, where you'd finally say the words that had been building inside you for far too long. "I've never been... with anyone like this"

Dean didn't move at first, didn't say anything, but his expression softened. For a moment, it was just the two of you, alone in the quiet of the cabin, the rain falling harder against the windows, and the world outside fading into nothing.

"You don't have to say anything, you know" Dean said quietly. He placed the glass down on the coffee table and stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "But I'm here, alright? I don't want you to feel like you have to rush"

You nodded, but it didn't stop your pulse from racing. The idea of being vulnerable with him, of sharing something so intimate, something so human—it made your chest tighten, but there was something else too. Desire. It pooled in your stomach, hot and unrelenting, and wetting your panties.

Oh, good Lord, you thought, ironically blaspheming your father.

Dean closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as if you were something fragile, something sacred. You didn't know if it was because he was human and you were an angel, or if it was just the weight of everything that had led you to this point. But it didn't matter. His lips were soft against yours when he kissed you, and all the chaos inside your head seemed to settle, just for a moment.

For the first time in your life, you didn't feel like you were hovering on the edge of something. You felt anchored.

When he pulled back slightly, his lips hovered over yours, breath mingling. "You sure about this?" His voice was thick with need, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. "I don’t wanna push you into anything you’re not ready for"

You could feel the raw honesty in his words, the same honesty that had always been there in every mission, every hunt. Dean Winchester was nothing if not genuine, and for the first time in a long time, you weren't sure if you could handle it.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your palms. "I'm sure" you breathed. "I've never been more sure of anything"

With a small, almost imperceptible nod, Dean leaned in again, kissing you deeper this time. It was slow, deliberate, as if he was testing the waters, feeling out what you needed, what you wanted. His hands moved down your sides, brushing against the curve of your waist, before coming to rest on your ass, pulling you closer to him. The heat of his body against yours made your breath catch, the tension growing thick between you.

You let him lead the way, following his movements, your hands exploring the hard planes of his chest. You could feel the muscles beneath his shirt, the warmth of him seeping into your skin, making your heart race faster.

Dean pulled away again, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. He looked at you, silently asking for permission. You nodded, barely able to breathe. Without hesitation, he lifted the fabric over your head, revealing the soft, smooth skin beneath.

His eyes darkened slightly, his gaze lingering on your exposed body as if he couldn't quite believe you were there with him, like you were something too beautiful for him to touch. His hands trembled for the briefest second, but you could see the raw want in his eyes, the same look you'd seen when he was staring down a demon, ready to strike.

Dean slowly lowered his lips to your neck, kissing you there, making you shiver under his touch. He moved down to your collarbone, trailing kisses along the delicate skin as his hands moved to your pants, unbuttoning them with a careful, almost reverent touch. When they fell to the floor, you kicked them off without a second thought, only to find yourself standing in nothing but your underwear.

Dean's breath hitched when he saw you in white bra and panties, contrasting your skin. His hands trembling again as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. It was almost too much, too fast, but the feeling of his hands on you, the warmth of his body so close, made your chest tighten with anticipation.

"I want this" you whispered, your hands moving to his belt, undoing it slowly, teasingly. Dean's eyes followed every movement, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

When his pants finally hit the floor, you could feel his urgency, the way his body pressed closer to yours, desperate for the connection. Your hands slid down to his boxers, pushing them off as you kissed him again, his cock springing free, feeling the fire between you burn hotter, fiercer. He groaned into your mouth as your hands explored him, feeling the heat of him, the hardness, the unmistakable proof of his desire.

"God, you're beautiful" he whispered, his voice strained as his lips trailed down to your chest, to the sensitive skin of your breasts. He kissed you there, tenderly, worshipfully, and you couldn't help but moan softly, the sensation overwhelming.

You needed him. Needed this. Needed to feel alive in a way you had never felt before, in a way only he could make you feel.

His hands roamed your back, finding the clasp of your bra, and after seeking permission in your eyes he unclasped it, sliding down the straps of it and tossing it on the floor along the discarded clothes. His eyes drank in what was in front of him, perfect breasts for his hands to take as if they were pieces of a puzzle dictated by destiny.

With a gentle, almost hesitant motion, Dean laid you back onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. His eyes searched yours for any hint of uncertainty, but all he found was desire. You needed him to touch you, to fill the empty space between you, and you weren’t going to hold back.

"Dean" you whispered, your voice low, filled with need. "Please"

That was all it took. He leaned towards his jeans, fumbling with it as he found a condom in his wallet, ripping the package carefully and wrapping the latex on his shaft and moved into position. Dean placed his hands on your thighs, pushing them open slowly so he could get better access to your cunt, which was soaking wet.

Dean pressed his wrapped tip against your slit, sliding inside you carefully, and you gasped as you felt the pressure, the heat of him against you, later inside filling you up so good. The feeling of him inside you was both overwhelming and intoxicating, and you clung to him as if your very life depended on it.

You could feel every vein and inch of him against your gummy walls, his cock splitting you open in ways you'd never thought possible. Your head fell towards the arm rest of the couch, lips parted as soft moans left your mouth.

Dean's movements were slow at first, giving you time to adjust, to feel every inch of him. But the need in both of you built quickly, each of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The tension between you was thick, palpable, and each movement brought you closer to something you couldn't put into words.

You were consumed by him—by his touch, his taste, his scent. Your lower belly contracted with the impending orgasm that was going to hit you hard. And when it finally came, the release was nothing short of explosive, a wave of pleasure that crashed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him, your walls tightening around his dick.

The delicious sensation of your tight channel enveloping his cock made him groan against your neck, his release filling up the condom inside of you, his body shuddering against yours, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you simply existing in the aftermath, your bodies still tangled together. Dean pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a gesture of tenderness you hadn't expected.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse.

You smiled softly, somehow breathlessly, your heart still racing. "I'm more than okay"

Dean chuckled quietly, brushing a lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. "Good"

And for the first time in your life, you didn't feel like you were alone.

[dumbgoondog]

Choso Kamo Thoughts SFW/NSFW + D-Eval

MDNI NSFW +18

SFW and NSFW Headcanons collection for Choso Kamo. Along with his D-Evaluation

Cw/Tw — cannibalism, Mahito, pregnancy talk, stalking

Choso an empathetic person who takes his failures very personally. Like when he lost Eso and Kechizu. He is secretly a VERY emotional person, he just expresses it differently.

Choso forgets humans can see him. He often just does shit cuz o that. Picking up something from a food stall and jus walkin, jus goin in a theater. You get it.

He’s eaten people. He hates how human passing he is, look at his brothers! To try and separate himself from that humanity tho, he eats humans. He’s very picky tho, only certain cuts, gotta be cooked, and he claims people taste different depending on health issues. It’s not common he eats humans tho, it’s more of a treat.

Choso cooks for the disaster curses! He cooks for game night, and for celebrations but the Otha’s normally don eat. Eso and Kechizu used to help in the kitchen, and he loved it. He also has cooked with Uraume and has learned tricks from them.

Choso friends with Mahito cuz Mahito loves observing this “family unit” and learning Choso’s definitions of family. Choso likes talking about family with Mahito and about what a future for curses might look like, where hybrids would fit, could a curse like Mahito make more curses? They got fertility tests done together with the help of Kenjaku

Choso friends wit Jogo cuz Choso and old soul and that an old man. They like talking traditions and history, culture too, how that will fit in the age of curses. They drink tea and meditate togetha.

Choso acts like he’s dead. Slow, shambling, grunts more than he talks, stares, slow to respond cuz he thinkin. Watches people not cuz he judgin but cuz he can. He often lost in his own head too. Choso is Zombie and vampire coded

Choso is morbidly fascinated by the thought that Mahito could get someone pregnant and if that would make a hybrid or not. It also gets him wonderin, if there’s enough hybrids and they all start gettin it on and have kids are they hybrids or a subspecies of their own now? Choso also wonders about if Mahito got another curse pregnant what would happen?

Choso thinks about a lot of things he should NOT say out loud. Like the last point, he shouldn’t be sayin that to anyone. He might have intrusive thoughts I dunno, but he thinkin about a lot of morbid and morally gray shi

Avid reader. LOVES books. So much so he’s trying to learn other languages to read more. He’s on AO3 reading shi too. He loves seeking out indie works and small works people are makin.

He’s a stalker. Not like Mahito, he’s not a freak about it. He’s genuinely trying to just watch you, like a show or movie. He’s not stealing your stuff, or breakin in anywhere, he’s not bothering you on the clock he just watches from a distance. This has lead him to protect you from other curses and even humans a few times, he doesn’t think you owe him anything for it.

He probably takes Itadori as his last name after finding out Yuji is his bro. He WILL want you to take Itadori too. He wants to start the Itadori clan! A clan for hybrids, his brothers, the family!

He thinks the really small flyheads, are cute! He keeps one like a pet. It’s not sentient after all.

Classical music. Goth Music. And when I say classical I mean traditional Japanese music not Motzart, tho he does want to start branching out to other countries classical music!

Choso Kamo D-Evaluation

GIRTH HELL. 5.7in girth. For ref a toilet paper tube(middle bit) is 6in circumference/girth. Shit gonna stretch ya TIGHT. Length tho 6in. Above average length, pretty good, that girth takes it up high tho. Tight trim, hair kinda messy still tho, well washed. He’s got no visible veins and leans to the left where he tucks it. Thick, hot, loads. Porn animation style. Pretty white color, tastes honestly pretty ok for a dead dude. Kinda bitter tho. He’s got smallish balls which makes you wonder where all that cum from. Surprisingly fertile, but lower fertility. He cums at least twice a session, after the first one his face might start leaking a bit and he pull you on top of him.

[kaiserboom]

HUGS AND KISSES

Prompt: surprising your boyfriend after his match. Base off this ANON.

a/n: love this req so muchh. I should start writing fluff Isagi more, instead of angst. I really enjoyed writing this :)) and bruh idek why I wrote this so short...

Pairings: Isagi x fem! reader.

Cw. fluff, ooc.

The cool night air brushed softly against Isagi's skin. as he finally stepped out of the stadium, exhausted, and his adrenaline still humming through his limbs.

His eyes scanned the dark, dull parking lot. It had been a long intense game, and he'd genuinely missed you during the hours apart.

He walked further into the cold night air, expecting to head straight home or to the locker rooms, But then he heard a soft, gentle familiar voice calling his name.

"Isagi!!" You shouted.

He snapped around, eyes searching until they finally landed on you- standing just outside the stadium he had just walked out from, bathed in the streetlight's glow. Your face was lit up with a bright, enchanting smile, your eyes shining with excitement and affection. You'd come all this way to surprise him.

His heart lurched, cheeks flushing beneath his mask. A small, overwhelmed smile spread across his face.

"You...! what you doing here?" he managed, his voice husky with raw emotions.

You stepped closer, holding a small bag. "I thought you could use some comfort- you know, after that intense match" you said softly, eyes flicking with cockiness. Then, with a teasing grin, you leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his trembling lips.

Isagi's cheeks warmed beneath his mask of composure. "Babe- relax."

He shivered at the contact, feeling the warmth of your touch. His cheeks warmed further. "You're incredible." He faintly whispered, his voice thick with affection. "Such a good girlfriend for me."

Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. His arms wrapped around you. Feeling the softness of your body against his.

The world seemed to pause for a moment- like you two were last human being's standing on this earth. The quiet, the cool night air, and the feeling of being loved by this.

You pulled back slightly, eyes still sparkling with happiness, carefree, and affection.

"I hope your not too mad- I wanted to surprise you to make your night better."

He looked into your eyes, a small smile forming behind his mask.

"I'm not mad- in fact I'm happy. I really love you Y/n."

As the night grew darker, you led him to a nearby bench, where he sat down, pulling you closer. You shared snacks, laughter and quiet whispers. Feeling safe and warm in each other's embrace.

"I love you too, Isagi."

Notes: srry for errors I tried proofread what I can but I guess laziness got to me :/