#getting back into the swing of things or whatever

[mercurycft]

𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 - 𝐋𝐖

## reader x leah williamson !! MINI FIC

hi pookies!! i’ve really been enjoying writing shorter and fluffier fics recently! somehow this ended up being a bit longer than intended! i hope you enjoy this! more to come. you’ll be able to find them under the “mini fics” section on my masterlist!! love always - RG x

2k words!

no warnings. pure in-love sweetness.

"so, what do you think, le?" you asked, eyes sparkling with excitement as you held up a newly-purchased jersey with the number six emblazoned on it.

leah looked up from her laptop, a smile playing on her lips. "it's perfect, lovie, just like everything else you pick." you replied with a sweet smile and a gentle eyeroll, folding the shirt neatly and pushing it to the side of the sofa which remains empty beside you.

the two of you sat in leah's living room, which as of a few days ago was now officially also yours too, cozied up beneath a blanket. you sat surrounded by boxes containing all of your beloingings, labelled by room and organised neatly into piles. re-runs of old shows playing on the tv ahead of you, casting flashes of colour across the room, overpowered by the lamp light from the corner of the room.

though you sat close together, leah had angled her body and screen away from you. tapping away on the keys with narrowed eyes of concentration. "what're you tip tapping away so furiously at?" you teased, lifting your head exageratedly to sneak a peak at her screen.

"hey, no peaking!" she quipped back, pulling the screen down to sheild it. "good things come to those who wait, love." she spoke after a second, lifting her hand and brushing her knuckles against your cheek gently.

"fine," you huffed, tilting your head to kiss her hand softly before turning back to the screen in front of you; attempting to drown out the noise of her tapping with the serene sounds of gavin and stacey.

the football season was in full swing, and your weekends were usually spent cheering from the stands, so a saturday in together was a rare but valued gift. you spent the time relaxing, allowing yourself to potter around. leah, on the other hand, seemed consistently distracted. whether that be by training, or whatever it is she seemed to be doing on her laptop or phone. you paid it no mind, aware of leah's growing responsibility. unbeknownst to you, that evening, leah had announced to the team her plans for the coming days.

you woke on sunday to leah leaning over you, training kit on and hair slicked into a ponytail at the back of her head. "good morning, love. im off in a minute, call me when you get up okay?" through the stirring of your sleep you murmured a small response and lifted to kiss her gently, before waving her out of the room.

it was past nine when you finally woke up fully. leah long gone and already at training as you made your way around the house carefree. after a swift call to leah, a lazy breakfast and a hot shower - you stumbled into the kitchen; towel still in hand and scrunching the last of the water out of your hair.

the sun shone through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow on the gleaming counters. it was quiet without leah's usual 'morning country session' as you called it, and the sound of her soft singing echoeing through the hall. you grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone.

your thumb froze mid-swipe when you saw a message from leah pop to the top of your screen. "hey, the girls keep bothering me about seeing you. wear your new jersey. love you x" you stifled a laugh at the thought of beth forcing leah to type and send the message, shaking your head softly and typing small reply.

you took your time getting dressed, slipping on the jersey adorned with leah's number six with a sense of pride. wearing it felt like a silent declaration of your support and love for her. as you made your way to the living room, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

your face screwed together with confusion, taking a second to swipe your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the time. half ten. "can't be leah then," you thought aloud as you made your way to the front door, you swung it open to reveal beth. stood in her kit and holding two take-away cups of coffee in her hands.

"good morning, my favourite wag." she spoke cheerfully, moving into the open space you had created by opening the door further to let her in. you shared a small hug as she came in, laughing at her comment.

"you know i hate when you guys call me that," you laughed, but shook it off, taking one of the cups from her as she thrusted them towards you. "you're the best, but can i ask what you're doing here and not at training?" you shut the door behind her as she advanced further into the house.

"i have a late start and leah said to come and get you because-"

"she took the car," you both said in unison, breaking into a small shared laugh over leah's predictability.

"give me two minutes and ill be ready to go, just have to go put on my jewellery."

you retreated back into the bedroom, as you reached for your necklace, the doorbell rang again. you huffed quietly to yourself, confused on who else could possibly be at the door.

"i got it," beth called from downstairs, opening the door.

"what was it?" you asked as you made it down the stairs, clasping the necklace around your neck and shaking your hair onto your back.

"just a parcel," she said shrugging, placing it on the kitchen counter and turning back to you. "ready?"

you nodded, grabbing your keys and checking for your phone one last time before flicking off the lights and locking the door behind you.

the car ride was quick, and you and beth chatted the whole way. once you arrived at the grounds, beth led you around to the side entrance, away from the usual doors at the front. "whats going on?" you questioned with a quizzical look, "leah said to bring you here." she replied with a seemingly unbothered shrug.

you followed her down the corridor and into the changing room, which was unusually quiet and empty. beth stopped you just before the double doors, forcing you to turn around and face her one last time. she smiled at you, with nothing over than love with a small hint excitement. "where is everyone? you lot are stressing me out." you laughed, attempting to break the confusing silence.

"they're all outside, probably running circles around your mrs." she teased, eyes flicked across your features and hair, then down to the jersey. you watch as a smile spreads across her features and she reaches for your phone out of your hands.

"you're scaring me, i dont want to go out there alone if everyone is out there!" you whined like an anxiety ridden child, taking a deep breath as beth pushed your hair off your shoulders and looked directly into your eyes.

"you'll be fine. trust me, go out there."

beth nudged you gently towards the doors, the sound of your heartbeat growing louder in your ears. you took a deep breath and stepped out onto the field, squinting against the sudden burst of light. once they had focused to the brightness, your eyes skimmed across the pitch searching for leah.

your gaze finally fell into the middle of the pitch where players and staff seemed to crowd around someone down. your face fell into concern when you realised leah wasn't standing with them, and instead they were stood around her.

"leah?" you called, eyes wide as you sped up to reach the group. the sound of your voice brought a hush over the crowd, who all shared the same concerned look as they concealed leah from your view. you tried to calm your breathing as you made your way closer, mind reeling with the worst possible scenarios of why leah is on the floor. "leah?" you called again, now close enough to reach for some of the girls to move them aside. as your hand extended to push past katie, the girls in front of you parted - finally giving you a full view of leah.

however, it was not the view you expected. you had expected to see her on the floor, injured and writhing in pain. instead, what you found had you stopped dead in your tracks.

leah, knelt on the grass, her eyes glued to yours. her hand outstretched, a small velvet box balanced on her palm and clasped between her fingers. you couldn't read her expression, and couldn't bring yourself to say anything. the world around you seemed to fade into the background as you stared at her, your eyes wide.

you watched as she took a deep breath and began. "i have loved you from the moment we met on this very pitch, during that first interview all those years ago. i have loved you everyday since and will continue to love you everyday for the rest of my life. since that first day, you have changed my life in ways i will never be able to explain to you. i knew from the first time you laughed at one of my stupid media trained jokes that i would marry you. so, im down on one knee, ready to love you forever. will you marry me?" leah's voice was shaky and hopeful, her eyes never leaving yours.

you felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs. your hand flew to your mouth to cover the shock that washed over your features. the crowd around you was silent, their eyes flicking between leah and you, their expressions a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

slowly, you stepped closer to her, the realization of what was happening settling into your heart. "are you serious?" you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"as serious as i've ever been," she replied with a hopeful smile.

you dropped down to your knees in front of her, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a swift kiss to her lips. "yes," you choked out, the word barely audible but clear enough for the entire field to hear. the crowd erupted into cheers, their claps and whistles piercing the quiet air like a gunshot.

leah's face broke into a grin so wide it could've split her face in two as she watched the tears fall down yours. she brought the box closer to you, revealing the ring nestled inside. it was simple, a silver band with a small diamond in the center - but to you, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on.

you took the box from her, watching as she lifted the ring out and slipped it onto your finger. it was a perfect fit, as if it had been made just for you. "yes," you repeated, louder this time so that everyone could hear the conviction in your voice. "i'll marry you, leah."

the crowd around you grew closer as the teammates you had come to know so well rushed in to embrace you both. the warmth of their arms around you, the sound of their cheers in your ears. they wrapped around the both of you, all smiles and laughter.

as the congratulations died down, you took a moment to swat her shoulder with a stern look "i thought you were hurt!" you muttered, looking down at the ring sat perfectly on your hand, then looking back to leah who mirrored your wide smile. before you could continue back and fourth, the sound of renee's voice called everyone back to training.

"you two got something to celebrate," she said with a knowing smile, "but remember, we've got a game on tuesday." you both laughed, as well as the rest of the girls surrounding you as leah moved to give renee a quick hug. around you the team split back into their usual groups to continue with their session, but leah made her way back to you.

"mrs williamson. it suits you."

[comatosebunny09]

backstage performance | sylus q.

— cw: female!reader, dancer!reader, lap dance, pole dancing, thigh riding, pet names, smutty things, pretend the reader’s wearing an expensive-ass lace front wig, shower sex, explicit language, praise kink, voice kink, aftercare, mdni — wc: ~2k — dividers by: @grabby-smitten — tagging: @world-of-hearts because they always entertain my madness. — now playing: don't worry about it - clara la san

One performance ends, freeing you up for another, more important gig. 

A smile rounds your lips as your audience erupts into a series of whoops and whistles. It’s almost deafening, their praise. 

The stage lights overwhelm your vision as people applaud you, some swiping at the stage to touch you. Everyone wants a chance at you—a taste of Lux’s main attraction. It’s flattering, but this isn’t the attention you seek tonight. It’s merely a preemptive strike for the grand finale.  

You duck backstage after wiping your pole clean. Sweep hair from your face, dabbing at the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand. A member of the backstage crew appears behind you to drape your shoulders in a fur coat. You wave her off, giving her an omniscient look as you shrug away from it. 

Her smile is cute, bashfulness swelling her cheeks. She knows what’s amiss—or about to be—bringing you a bottle of water instead. You gratefully accept, the crisp liquid a welcomed reprieve, cooling your insides. You thank her with a chaste kiss to her cheek. 

You dip into one of the club’s many winding hallways, bathed in the red lighting cast from overhead, skin shining with body glitter. Your heels click against the floor, accompanied by the dull throb of music playing throughout Lux’s halls. 

You reach your destination, your heart racing as you push through the swinging door leading to a quiet, tucked-away room.

Despite how long you’ve done this, you always get the pre-dance jitters, specifically when putting on a show for him. So, you tamp down your inhibitions as he comes into sight, a shock of white hair arresting your vision through the crimson hue of the private room. 

He looks up when you near him to get to your new stage, that customary smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He sits back in an easy slouch in the leather armchair, watching you with half-slit eyes and a muted smugness that sets your body alight.

You haul yourself onto the raised platform using the pole, an effortless display of your flexibility and strength. If at all possible, his smirk grows tenfold. He shifts in his seat, the leather squeaking when he grips the arms with long, slender fingers. He’s settled in for the long haul; your private shows never disappoint.

Whatever kind of day he’s had, you want to ease the tense set of his shoulders. Erase the lines forming between his brows despite the mask of nonchalance he dons. His negotiations must’ve gone south.

Music spills from the speakers in the form of soft crooning over a chill beat. It assuages your nerves a little, prompting you to begin your show. 

You grow more confident as the seconds pass. Warm up a little, grinding your ass against the pole, thighs spread wide whilst you simulate grinding on him. 

He watches you with quiet reverence, mouth slightly open. His gaze always drifts back to yours as you entice him with the salacious wind of your body. The attention makes your throat grow dry. You’ve danced for him many times before, yet it always feels like the first when he looks at you like that. Like you’re something to be devoured, bones licked clean.

You pull out all the stops once you mount the pole, sprinkling in your favorite tricks, guided by the music and the hungry wash of scarlet watching in your peripheral. You spin here, flourish your fingers there. Smooth your hands over the contours of your body, playing up your allure. 

At some point, you end up on the floor propped on your elbows, the stage glacial beneath your bum. You cross your ankles and flex your feet. Splay your legs wide and jiggle your thighs. Spin each leg in a rehearsed fashion before clapping your heels together, the sound commanding in the stilled space. 

From there, you maneuver yourself into a split, isolating your cheek muscles to twerk your ass. You couple it with a sultry look at the object of your desires, and he lifts a brow, clearly enjoying the show. 

You ease onto your knees, gyrating your hips whilst combing your fingers through your hair. You flatten against the floor onto your palms, crawling toward him with the finesse of a prowling feline. He sits up to meet you halfway, and his eyes track to your lips when you tug at the collar of his shirt, drawing your chests together. 

“How did your meeting go,” you ask in a vain attempt at small talk. His breath is hot, sifting through your lashes as he slowly exhales. It’s dizzying, being so close. Smelling him, feeling the heat radiating off his skin, studying the pucker of his lips.

His lips graze yours with the tease of a kiss. “Flawlessly.” You taste the double entendre.

“That well, huh?” He helps you dismount the stage with wide palms clasped around your waist, drawing you into his lap. The air is pinched from your lungs when you bounce on his thighs from the motion, his need for you hot and weighted against your inner thigh. 

“Sure,” he says, hands making several expeditions over your sides, stomach, and the small of your back. He doesn’t want to talk business when such a delicious spread is laid out before him. You can’t blame him.

You decide not to pursue the conversation, instead raking your fingers through his hair to massage his scalp. He groans something guttural and appreciative. It’s amusing watching the big, bad Boogeyman fall apart in your hands. Baring a side of himself he reserves only for you.

You try to get up to finish your performance, but he snatches you back onto his lap, a warning brewing in the gleam of his scarlet eyes. 

You chuckle, admiring the scowl-turned-pout that descends on his lips. “Will you ever let me finish a dance?”

“Someday,” he counters, lazily studying your features. Smiles. “For now, why don’t you take five? Or ten? Or perhaps, twenty…”

You roll your eyes, draping your arms around his shoulders to draw him in for a kiss. It’s a brief, sticky union. Quick pecks evolve into something more heated, more possessive whilst he moors you to his lap, pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

It’s a greedy exchange, his tongue seeking out yours, stealing your breath from your lungs sip by sip. It’s enough to make your head spin, the apex of your thighs throbbing with anticipation against the stitching of his trousers. 

Deft fingers tiptoe up your back, grabbing the zipper of your bodysuit. He pulls back momentarily to watch your expression as he sluggishly draws the zipper down. Quietly gives you an out in case you’re not in the mood for this. Always so considerate, even whilst in the throes of passion.

You say nothing, instead gathering his cheeks in your palms once he’s freed you of the tug of your costume. He bunches your bodysuit around your hips, wrapping virile arms around your middle to keep you fastened to him. He peels back to smooth his palms over the sides of your ribs, bottom lip pinched between his teeth. He’s insatiable, like he’ll never see you again, emblazoning the feel of your body into his memories forever.

Reluctantly, he tears away from the hot suction of your mouth to nip at your neck. Your lips part with a sigh-turned-breathy laugh, and you crane your neck back to grant him more access. The worn pads of his thumbs ease over the swell of your tits, find your nipples. He ducks to lick one into his mouth, paying the same homage to the other until they’re ramrod stiff and sensitive.

Unconsciously, you grind against his thigh, the rough material of his slacks bumping against your clit just right, sending delightful shockwaves throughout your body.

“That’s it,” he croons, molding a hand around your ass to encourage you. Sighs hot and open-mouthed against your hinged open mouth. “Ride me. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

The low gravel of his voice spurs you on. You glide your sticky, clothed cunt over his quad, and he squeezes your ass in one hand whilst kneading your breast in the other, drawing your nipple back into his mouth. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he urges on a strained groan. “Take what you want from me. Use me, sweetheart.” 

You do as he pleads, clinging to him whilst you seek your pleasure through the sluggish grind of your hips. You pant in unison, his palms perched on your hips, encouraging you to ride his thigh faster. He sucks on your neck, breathing obscenities and praise against your skin, pushing you further towards that edge of that blissful void.

“Fuck me. Take me. So good. Such a pretty girl. Cum for me. Want you to. So, so badly.”

Your ragged breaths progress into loud, bitten-off moans of his name. Your hips stutter as the world slides into white. Your orgasm spills through you like a warm liquid pooling in the chasm of your belly, your nails scraping over the nape of his neck. He holds you as you shake and whimper. Paints the sweetest words against your slick neck, encouraging you to come down from the clouds.

You curl into him as the last vestiges of your peak ripple through you, willing your breaths to even out. He eases soothing hands over your body, your thighs. Slides gentle fingers under your chin, luring you into a kiss that’s sweet and coaxing.

He’s patient as you finally come down. Chuckles low in his throat, thinking you’re just the sweetest thing. Your cheeks prickle with warmth as realization slams into you. You peer into his eyes when his girth brushes against your swelling sex. His gaze is mirthful, knowing.

Your mouth trembles around words. He didn’t get his. He traps the question in your mouth with another kiss, the loud click of your mouths parting making you heady once more. 

“You’ll have plenty of time to take care of me later,” he rasps. Your belly swoops at the implications. At the tenderness. The fragility in his smile, the affection blooming in his gaze. “In the meantime, we should get you cleaned up.” He is, of course, referencing the sweat and glitter still clinging to your skin from your show before this one.

You nuzzle into the hollow of his shoulder when he lifts you into his arms bridal style. Soundless, he walks you out of the room and down the hall toward the elevator. You’re bare from the waist up, your nipples puckering beneath the cool rush of air as he maneuvers you through the hall. But you’re not all ashamed, knowing no one frequents this side of the club as much as you do.

He cradles you to him like you’re made of porcelain. Doesn’t set you down even when the elevator pings at the top floor, emptying the pair of you into his penthouse. 

A bout of exhaustion washes over you. Maybe you were more exhausted than you let on. He chuckles something fond, glancing at you as he carries you to his en suite bathroom.

He takes his time divesting you of your costume after he sets you on the brisk countertop. Slides your heels from your feet, holding your gaze with a predatory gleam whilst he kisses the notches of each ankle bone. The mirror is a welcomed, glacial reprieve against your back when you lean against it, watching him rid himself of his suit. Your mouth waters when you catch sight of him, hard and swollen red in the wake of your teasing.

He scoops you back into his arms when he’s done, carrying you beneath the warm spray of his shower. Only then does he reluctantly set you down, turning away to squirt some body wash onto a towel to clean you. He takes his time scrubbing away the sweat and glitter, touching you with such admiration, like you’re a deity worthy of praise.

Once you’re both thoroughly scrubbed, he’s sure to thank you for such a wonderful performance in the shape of his hot mouth and artful fingers moving between your thighs.

[madewithangst]

SVT + subtle acts of love

This is HIGHLY inspired by Jana's prompt

PAIRING: seventeen (ot13) x gn!reader FORMAT: drabble/headcanon WARNINGS: none?

🍒Seungcheol

Guiding you with a gentle hand on the small of your back. He's definitely the type to protect you at all costs—no question about it. He’ll make it clear to everyone that you’re HIS, but still respects you deeply. While Scoups often gets portrayed as the possessive, alpha type, the truth is, he’s more of a big softie with still a touch of gentlemanly charm.

😇Jeonghan

Fixing your clothes or hair. Knowing Jeonghan, who always has the prettiest hairstyle, he also pays close attention to how you look. Not in an overbearing or toxic way, but because he understands the little things—like how it feels when your blouse is unbuttoned, your bangs are out of place, or your makeup gets smudged. In a way, he becomes your personal "appearance police," always looking out for you.

🦌Joshua

Randomly giving you flowers. This man is a living uwu. We all know how pricey flower bouquets can be. With your hectic school/work schedule, receiving a bouquet always makes your heart swoon—but it's not just the flowers; it's the thought behind them. Joshua always makes sure to think of you, and with his means, why not spoil you with the most beautiful flowers he can buy?

😺Jun

Giving you food without asking. Remember that Teen Vogue interview where they played truth or dare with snacks on the table? Yep, this is totally inspired by that moment—Junhui was too busy mukbang-ing. But honestly, he gives off this vibe wherein whatever he snacks, you snack too. Especially after his trips to China—goodness, the amount of food he brought back just to share his favorite treats with you!

🐯Hoshi

Grabbing your hand and swinging it back and forth. As an introvert myself, physical touch is something I'm deeply into. Hoshi may look loud af on TV and in stadiums, but when the spotlight and cameras are off, that's when his introverted side kicks in. He recharges with cuddles and every bit of physical touch he can get from you. He loves doing the gesture of swinging your hands back and forth when you're out in public—it's his way of channelling his energy and finding comfort in your presence.

🐈‍⬛Wonwoo

Pulling out the chair for you. Another man that is a living uwu. With the world we're living in now, it's rare to find a gentleman like Wonwoo. It’s a small but meaningful gesture that shows he values your comfort and wants to make you feel special (bonus: he knows the gesture makes you swoon).

🍚Woozi

Writing you a love letter and hiding it for you to find. With a mind that never rests, and being in love with you only fuels his creativity. The boys joke that his song lyrics are getting too personal and too cheesy, so some of them get rejected. Clearly, the inspiration is you. So to channel his overflowing emotions, he turns to writing love letters, a practice you adore.

⚔��Dokyeom

Humming a song to calm you down. It started when you were having nightmares while he was away on tour. Luckily, it was daytime where he was, so he was there to comfort you with a phone call. He sang you to sleep that night, and since then, he’s never stopped singing for you especially when you need him most.

🐶Mingyu

Making your lunch to take to work/school with you. This man was born in this world to cook for you. That's it. He's the team leader in the kitchen department, but who can blame him? The guy can cook! He knows you need an extra minute of sleep, so he adjusts your alarm and takes care of the smallest tasks on your to-do list, like checking off "make lunch" for both of you.

🐸The8

Paying complete attention to you. Doesn't matter if he's in the middle of reading, painting, or even eating (especially eating), Minghao will turn his entire body toward you, giving you his full attention. He’s a man who believes in the importance of deep connection. So talking is very essential in your relationship. Whether you're ranting about work, sharing thoughts on the latest anime, or asking for fashion advice, he's always all ears.

🍊Seungkwan

Remembering something you told him. He has this remarkable ability to remember, which is probably a skill required when you're a big pop star. Even the smallest details of what you've shared with him are carefully stored in the file cabinet of his mind. He'll bring up something at the most unexpected moments, showing you how deeply he listens and values every word you say. It’s a quiet yet powerful reminder that you matter to him in ways you might not even realize.

🐼Vernon

Waiting at the door to come greet you when you get home. We all know Vernon and his naps, right? The boys know him all too well. That's why they couldn't believe it when you told them he's always there to greet you at the door when you arrive home (unless he's not home). He likes to nap on the couch when you're not home, so if he's napping, he'll wake up at the rattle of the key in the door. Eating? He'll run towards the door. Showering? Obviously impossible, but you'll still hear his loud voice from a distance. Baaaabe~

🦦Dino

Giving you a massage. Lee Chan is built to make others smile, and he pours that energy into every gesture. You were the one who started giving him massages because you noticed how his Hyungs always playfully tackle him, leaving him a bit worn out. Now, giving you massages has become his way of showing care, and he does it with a gentle touch, always focused on your comfort. It’s his quiet way of returning the favor, making sure you feel relaxed and appreciated, just as he always does for you.

a fun fact nobody asked, these three boys in the pictures are my holy trinity Thank you for the wonderful prompt @creativepromptsforwriting ✨

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> smut, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> Song Mingi x reader warning(s) -> smut, mdni. 18+ words -> 2.2k

abstract -> insecurties sometimes need to be faced

y/n’s perspective

Waking up in the middle of the night to Hongjoong’s screaming wasn’t what I expected to ever happen… Seonghwa and Yeosang? Maybe… but Hongjoong and Mingi? Not at all.

“Yah! Seriously you’ve woken everyone up” I heard Seonghwa say in a groggy voice. “You’ll wake up y/nnie if you continue… “ I heard Wooyoung say in a tired voice and saw him hug San… “Never mind you did wake her up,” Yeosang said as he approached me and kissed my forehead. “Ah- Sorry… Mingi is just acting different” he said and San laughed. “Are you scared of the overgrown wolf now?” San asked and Hongjoong growled at him. 

“How difficult can he be? If anything you might’ve done something” Seonghwa said and he scoffed. “Mingi-ah!! Unlock–” “Go away!!” The wolf interrupted the tiger. “You’ve already woken–” “Shut up you stupid overgrown cat!!” he said and I was shocked at what was happening.

Yeosang laughed at the tiger’s expression of pure shock at the wolf hybrid’s behavior… and his comment towards him. 

“Y/n, Mingi is being mean to the cats!” Wooyoung said as he sleepily wrapped his arms around me. “It’s unfair! It’s my room too!” Hongjoong yelled and kicked the door only to hear a growl shortly afterwards. 

“Everyone just go to sleep… Hongjoong you can sleep in my room” I said, already tired and wanted to quickly go back to the warm bed. I was sleepy and didn’t pay attention to the other’s complaints. But luckily Seonghwa was left for damage control. 

“Shut up all of you… Hongjoong will just  have to take her bed tonight” 

I woke up to a cuddly tiger. I smiled softly at how sweet he was. A major difference from when we first met.

I saw my door open slightly and saw familiar eyes. It suddenly swings open. “You’re awake!!” Wooyoung said loudly, waking up the tiger who groaned and hugged me tighter. 

“Hey, let go of her!!” San said and the tiger scoffed. “I have breakfast all done so get up you lazy tiger!” Wooyoung said and I got the chance to brush my teeth and wash my face before going for breakfast. 

“Did you sleep well?” Yeosang asked and I nodded. “I hope Hongjoong didn’t snore, '' Seonghwa said and Yeosang laughed. It was rare that the two got along outside of their room… instead, it's almost like they bully and tease each other to show how they care. It was weirdly toxic.

I noticed everyone here but Mingi. 

“The wolf is still hogging up my room” Hongjoong angrily said while eating toast. “I’ll bring some food to him,” I said and Wooyoung didn’t let me. 

“Whatever he’s dealing with is hybrid-related–” “He won’t hurt me” I cut him off and he looked away but I noticed the flushed cheeks he had.

“It might be his heat?” 

mingi’s perspective

For some reason, Hongjoong’s presence annoyed me. I felt angry. No… needy? I didn’t know.

I heard a knock and I was about to yell at them before I recognized the sweet scent. 

No… I can never be angry at her.

“Mingi are you okay?” she asked but I didn’t know what to say…

I unlocked the door silently when she realized and entered, only making her scent stronger. It made me… even more hungry for her.

“There's a suspicion you’re in heat,” she said and I groaned. I hated my heat… the she-devil would always trap me in the closet until it ended. The thing with hearts is that I couldn’t ever get off by myself… so when the time came that my heart or even Yunho’s came we’d admit each other to heat hotels. It was uncomfortable.

I nodded while looking away from her. 

“You can go to a heat hotel or suppressants?” I asked and I wondered if I should go for the option most familiar to me. 

Heat Hotels weren’t the worst… Most of the time it was actually helpful. 

“You might wanna get advice from a hybrid though not me”

“Hongjoong is the only one to go to the hotel,” San told me while the rest seemed to agree. “Yeosang, did you go to one?” Seonghwa asked while the doberman scoffed. “No, I didn’t! I wouldn’t waste my time with some stupid run-down hotel” he growled out. 

I highly doubt he went to one with his experience. 

“It was only Hongjoong '' Seonghwa said while the orange tiger seemed uninterested in talking about his experience. “Oh and threatened his heat partner and almost had y/n under a lawsuit,” Yeosang said and I sighed. “Just ask her for help,” San noted and I was shocked they were allowing it so easy. 

The tigers told me how the two canine hybrids completely shut them out until circumstances happened. 

“You won’t be satisfied if you go to a hot hotel. Not with the boner you had when you left your room with y/n '' Yeosang teased and I growled softly. 

“Have you ever even had sex Mingi?” Seonghwa asked and I nodded. “I’ve gone to heat hotels before” I confessed and they sighed. 

“Even if you do decide on a heat hotel they’ll just comment on how you’re a pet. Hybrids seem to hate or pity ‘collectibles’ and just taunt you the entire time” Hongjoong said and I wondered if that's how it was. 

Was it really that different now that I had a fancy collar?

“What if you just go there without a collar?” Wooyoung asked and they shook their heads. “They have a collar policy,” I said.

“I think if he doesn’t want to mate with y/n let him go and see if he survives longer than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa teased but I think it was the best idea.

She wouldn’t want me as a mate anyway. Who would?

“If you feel uncomfortable, have the staff call me okay?” she asked and I nodded. 

They’re pairing me off with another dog hybrid. It wasn’t until I got into the room that I saw what breed… a golden retriever.

“Hi!” she said with a big smile and her tail wagging. The staff left me with her and I felt nothing but sadness. I missed Yunho. 

“You’re a lot bigger than I thought when they told me you were a wolf-runt hybrid,” she said and I tried not to let that offend me. It was normal for hybrids to point out if they were runts.

“You smell like a lot of hybrids though,” she said and I nodded. “I live with five other hybrids,” I said and she looked shocked. “I’m the only one. My owner is nice but she wants to get another hybrid” she pouted and I sighed. Some owners may show favoritism if they do get multiple hybrids.

“What is it like?” she asked and I laughed. “Chaotic” I answered and she nodded. She looked up at me with big doe eyes that I almost mistook her for a deer hybrid. 

“You wanna start?” 

y/n’s perspective

“He’s been gone for four days” Wooyoung whined about missing the wolf hybrid. “I’m surprised how long he’s staying there for,” Hongjoong said and I had to agree. 

Mingi was shy and sweet. I didn’t expect him to last long at a Hyatt hotel. 

“Angel, there's a new perfume I want!” Yeosang said and I smiled. “Oh?” I said and he nodded. “It's only available for pick up in the store” he pouted and I nodded. 

I was already ready and Wooyoung wanted to tag along. 

The three of us went to pick up his perfume and a second one for Seonghwa who would probably steal Yeosang’s if we didn’t.

We were picking up some food when I got a call about the heat hotel.

“I don’t wanna go near there” “Me either!” the two hybrids said and I sighed. “Please it’ll be quick to pick up Mingi,” I said and they agreed eventually.

We got near the hotel when Yeosang was hugging my arm. “Hello, the hybrid paired up with Mingi was picked up early. We wanted to know if you would like a refund for the rest of the days you paid or pair him up with someone new?” she asked and I looked at Mingi who shook his head. 

“I’ll take him now,” I said as she handed me the refund and a paper of the other hybrid’s information. She was a golden retriever hybrid, a purebred too.

“That's such a disgusting place,” Yeosang said and I noticed how quiet Mingi is. I was getting worried… was he okay? Hongjoong was quite like this too when he came to the heat-hotel but that's because of his hatred of how he was called a collectible… was Mingi okay?

We got home and he was still a bit off… was it something that happened?

I followed Mingi to his room when he must've noticed me. He didn’t say anything and waited for me. 

“Are you okay?” I asked and he nodded. “Just… pent up?” he said in a low voice, almost not sure of himself… “Did something happen–” “She reminded me of Yunho… She was a golden retriever hybrid. I guess I was a little angry? I was too rough with her…” he confessed and I kneeled. 

Lately, Kun has been telling me that he’s been a little off when mentioning Yunho. Almost territorial against the dog hybrid who he hasn't seen. 

“Is your heat done?” I asked and he shook his head. “It's okay… I only have a few more days left” he said and I shook my head. 

“I could help?” He looked at me confused. “If that makes you uncomfortable I have heat suppressant–” “Please help me”

no one’s perspective

Mingi almost didn’t know what he was doing. He had very little experience with his heats… he wasn't a virgin but he was also inexperienced… and it's not like you were any better.

“I don’t want to hurt you like I did her” he muttered… “You won’t… you must’ve been remembering Yunho huh?” you reassured and he nodded. 

“This is my home… I finally have something of my own that I don’t share with him” he confessed his wish and you gave him a soft smile “We’ll always be your family,” 

That must’ve comforted him… and probably gave him the courage to kiss you gently, almost too scared to go rough… It was an intimate and almost desperate kiss. 

He then started kissing you on your jaw and neck feeling him suck on your skin making marks of his that will surely tick off the others. Especially Yeosang and Hongjoong…

Desperate for it to escalate you grabbed his hands to make him a little more comfortable and placed them on your chest as he started to massage your chest with each one getting rougher. 

He then ripped the shirt you had on to start marking your skin lower now. Sucking and teasing your chest as he got more rough. 

He looked at you with pleading eyes when his hands found your waist and softly tugged on the pants you were wearing. You nod silently and he takes them off along with your panties. 

He circled your clit with his hands before thrusting his fingers into you. Mingi was very tall and his fingers were reaching places that fingers hadn't found before. It was all new territory as he would be the biggest one you’d take out of all your hybrids. 

At some point the pleasure was too much you couldn’t hold in the whimpers and moans that you let out while he decided to now stretch you and prepare you for his size. “Give me one… just one before I go inside you please, pup,” he had pleaded as you felt your body snap and you listen to him cumming once now by his fingers. Coming off that high you didn’t notice the shuffling as he now lined himself up to your entrance even tapping your clit with his  tip. He grabbed your thighs and looked at you silently seeing if I was okay. In which you’d give him a soft smile that would only fuel his head to get rough with you and corrupt you.

You couldn’t have suspected his size would hurt and stretched you open to the point that it would feel like San taking your virginity all over again. 

“I’m sorry just a little more please?” he’d apologize and soon beg breathlessly as he bottomed out. He moved to kiss away the tears that fell down your cheeks even licking them up to taste the salty liquid.  

“We can stop–” you shook my head and even gripped his arm tighter so he didn’t move. “You’re just so big… I need to get used to it” you whined out and he nodded as he kissed you in hopes to distract you from the burning sensation whilst he was inside you. 

As he stayed still you began to grow frustrated wanting him to move. Whining out “Mingi” he chuckled softly. You were okay but it only irritated you and made you more impatient. He was going painfully slow… and you wanted more. 

“Please Mingi, faster” you pleaded and he nodded as he started going faster. Hybrids were more sensitive during heats but especially now since Mingi has a few days with his heat he started getting desperate and you forgot a crucial detail.

Mingi was a canine hybrid. 

“I’m sorry pup… you can handle it it’ll be okay” he said as he continued giving me sweet praises as he knotted me. Which gave you a delicious type pain as he grew in size.

“Shhh… you said you’d help me right? Just a little more”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[ruinedsapphic]

Sevika x ambessa where fighting turns into sex 💪😍😍

“GO EASY ON ME, WILL YOU?”

pairings: Sevika x Ambessa Medarda :3 (straight wuh luh wuh)

warnings: Sevika x Ambessa (I have no idea if people hate or like this ship), the ask says it all, fighting, mentions of blood, smut, fingering (s receiving), domxdom turns into forced submission, doomed yuri, all third person view, drinking, bottom/switch sevika + power dom Ambessa :333 I’m gonna cum I swear, intentional lower case so don’t even, not actual plot so… !!THIS IS REALLY LONG IDK WHY!!, it’s not finished.

sevika, the strongest woman in zaun was at the brothel, lord it’s almost like all the time she’s in it. but, she’s only in it to keep her mind off certain things. sevika took a sip from her drink, passing out the cards for the card game she always won in. Almost as if everyone at the table knew she was some sort of cheater at the game, as if she knew all the cards in everyone’s deck for some reason.

just from across, it was ambessa. the mother of mel medarda. ambessa watched the zaunite woman pass the cards around, her gaze flicking down to the mechanical arm and hand. the mechanics of the fingers tossing the cards and shuffling them before the game so easily. she scoffed to herself and downed herself a drink once again. “That woman is going to kill me by the end of this goddamn day.” she then got up.

were all pretty sure ambessa is the tallest woman in the brothel so far, beating sevikas height by 8 inches. though, to ambessa..she definitely had some feelings for the zaunite woman, who wouldn’t?

the brothel continued to roar shouts, music, laughter and all of that from the above. ambessa would be there for like whatever reason but she’s usually around town to try local cuisines.

“hey, girl with the arm.” ambessa said, trying to get the zaunite attention. her hand waving in the air, but when she didn’t actually get the woman’s attention, she got up, walking over to her. then the taller woman of color tapped on the woman sitting in the chair, sevika paused in her tracks, “yeah?”

well..not quite expected. ambessa noticed it was actually sevika herself; the woman who she had to deal with from years before and her eyebrow raised, “come with me.”

“I’m in the middle of a ca—“

“Did I stutter?”

the zaunite stood up with a sigh, she took a sip from her beer before leaving it on the table to get up, heading her way to follow the mother of the famous Mel Medarda. “see you soon,” She called back to her group and followed the woman like a lost puppy.

after a bit of walking around the brothel, they come to a final end and stand in front of each other before ambessa moved in and grabbed sevika by her cloak, her hands swiftly tearing it off. “you know I still remember you, no?” The zaunite woman fully sighed, she pulled her cloak back and covered her mechanical arm. “Almost like every other day you’re here to fight me.”

the only thing ambessa did was give off a smirk, “maybe I’m here to fight?” in which it resulted the zaunite to groan out, “you know I’m tired.” sevika would settle down into a chair, but ambessa didn’t even bother for her to sit, she was NOT giving this poor zaunite a break. “one day i better get a god damn massage, I don’t got all of my adult years to keep kicking asses”

ambessa pushed sevika a bit and snapped at her, “don’t try to change the topic, zaunite.” the taller woman briefly stated, sevika groaning again before pushing her back, “what are you even here for again?”

“Another rematch.”

“i’m tired.”

“another rematch.”

“but I’m- ugh.”

———————————————————————————

not even 30 minutes later the fight stopped, there was still ruthless cursing and yelling, swinging fights, cheers, people avoiding the fight and others cheering. occasionally sevika would dominate the fight first, grabbing the taller woman with both hands and pushing her down on the ground before grabbing her jaw, forcing the woman of color down on the floor to look right at her.

“you don’t learn the first time, no?” sevika asked, her mechanical hand gripping on ambessa’s chin as if demanding for an answer. the woman down on the floor was disheveled, a few cut marks across her lip and her clothes slightly torn, a small contrast from sevika who’s metal arm was completely full of scratches, her nose slightly bleeding but she wiped it off with the back of her hand. no they were NOT playing a cat fight .. “all you do is come around ask for anot—” sevika was briefly paused at ambessa grabbing the mechanical hand and pushing it away from her chin, grabbing the metal hand tightly and getting up, using her height as an advantage before roughly pushing sevika instead. sevika looked up at the woman with a raised eyebrow, “psh…again? seriously?” she scoffed, not wanting to take another fight but who said it was going to be another fight. “…meet me in the back when you’re done with those filthy games of yours. unless you most likely want yourself dead and open in the streets.”

———————————————————————————

“meet me in the back when you’re done with those filthy games of yours.”

sevika listened, maybe the only time she kinda did. she entered the back rooms and opened the door, looking around to find ambessa, walking forward into the room and settling down at the table before ambessa appeared just behind her, the woman pushing sevika down against the table, her front pressing firmly against sevika’s behind.

“..not again.” sevika tried to push herself back up but no!!!! ambessa was definitely not letting it happen. she leaned down to sevika’s ear from behind. the insane body build covering sevika by a lot. they were both muscular and packed but…it was the size difference. “how about a little game of..this? whoever submits first is the loser, yeah?”

Of course, sevika has never bottomed out with any partners especially in the brothel with all the ladies, but would she even handle ambessa? apart of her DEFINITELY said no, but the other half yes.

———————————————————————————

“g-go easy on me! will you?!” sevika squirmed, looking down at ambessa who’s literally eating the zaunite out, her rough hands gripping sevika’s thighs and keeping them firm and still. We definitely knew who the loser was.

ambessa’s tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, her tongue occasionally sliding down to meet her entrance and her fingers parting out her folds, also swarming the arousal from sevika all over the place. the session definitely had gotten sloppy and all messy. sevika face contorted with pleasure, her thighs shaking while TRYING her hardest to push the woman’s mouth off her. It had been orgasm after orgasm. She was never getting a break!! poor sevika :((

“I know..I’m just so, so mean to you..can’t even give you a poor break.”

She bit down on the woman’s inner thighs, making marks that were visible but not enough to inflict pain. sevika made out ragged breaths, tossing her head back on the chair while ambessa was still on her knees, sevika’s arm falling to her side and her other one covering her mouth to restrain her noises. I know damn well she was enjoying that .. her head was still thrown back while muffling out sounds, her throat full display while her adams apple was definitely there..bobbing every time she made out a muffled sound.

“killing me here..” sevika whined out and looked down, her back only arching just slightly, her chest heaving; her v line was literally covered in ambessa’s saliva and love bites. it was a top favorite part of sevika’s body ambessa herself enjoyed. “Killing you? Tsk, keep talking for me, yeah? give me some company while I ruin the fuck out this pussy.”

———————————————————————————

A.N: NO IM NOT FINISHED ACTUALLY BUT GUYS 😭😭💔 I NEED TO POST THIS CAUSE I NEED TO. ILL MAKE ANOTHER SOON BUT ITS 2 AM. SCHLAWG PLEASE CATCH ME A BREAK TOO ??? Caitlyn post soon guys..

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part8

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: slut shaming(?)

previous - next

Could you really call yourself an adult now?

I mean, honestly, is there some magical age that makes you a certified grown-up?

If it’s all about age, then nope—you weren’t an adult. Maybe a “young adult” at best, but even then, the life you were living? Let’s just say it was… a bit different.

When everything started happening so quickly, keeping up felt impossible. And let’s face it, that was normal. If you managed to juggle everything with calm composure, you’d probably qualify as Wonder Woman. Life came with its ups and downs, but throw pregnancy symptoms into the mix, and things got extra tricky.

You liked to share what you wanted with others. Talking about your plans openly was just how you were. It wasn’t about bragging; you just enjoyed sharing your happiness. But every single time—without fail—whatever you talked about? It never happened.

That Venice trip you’d been set on for the summer? Canceled.

The dream university? Rejected. That car you were this close to buying? Nope, didn’t happen.

It was like clockwork. Every time.

And the thing was, you never learned. Not really. You’d repeat the same mistake again and again. Life’s law, right? Someday you’d figure it out… though that day clearly wasn’t anytime soon.

Pregnancy, though, wasn’t exactly something you could go shouting about to everyone. That was off the table. But moving?

If you weren’t pregnant, there’s no way you’d have kept quiet. You’d have made sure the entire island knew. And naturally, that would’ve meant it wouldn’t happen.

This time, though, you zipped it. The only person who knew was JJ—and, well, he didn’t really count. Or, okay, maybe he did. Of course, he was important, but not the kind of person to stand in your way. On the contrary, he had your back. He even offered to help you with the whole moving process.

Things happened so fast, you could hardly believe it.

Your dad came home from his work trip, you visited the mainland, met with a realtor friend of his, checked out potential homes—it was like someone had hit the fast-forward button.

You couldn’t decide on anything. You were even okay with a cute little apartment. The list of occupants was simple: you and your daughter. You didn’t need much more.

Your mom, however, had her opinions. She didn’t want a mansion either, but she was firm about the house having enough rooms. One for you, one for your daughter, and a guest room—because naturally, grandma duties. And a yard, because she wanted to watch her grandchild play outside.

So apartments were out. Houses it was. After seeing what felt like a million empty ones, you were ready to scream.

But finally, you found it. The perfect house. The yard alone sold it. You could already picture the memories you’d make there with your daughter. Maybe a swing or a hammock… some comfy furniture on the porch.

You never imagined you’d get so close to your dream so quickly.

It had the three rooms your mom insisted on, was two stories, and honestly, it was beautiful. You loved it. But the idea of living there alone was terrifying.

Still, the deal was sealed.

It didn’t take long—two weeks, tops. When your mom insisted on hiring an interior designer, you didn’t argue much. Secretly, you liked the idea. And once your belongings were packed, it was all done.

All that was left was you.

There weren’t many people to say goodbye to on the island, which was, honestly, fine. Who were you supposed to bid farewell to? Rafe? His family, who didn’t even know you were pregnant? Your friends, who’d probably broadcast the news to the world? No thanks.

Except for JJ.

You’d have been a total ass not to acknowledge his help. Even if his support wasn’t entirely physical, his presence had been a huge emotional lift.

So saying goodbye wasn’t hard.

Ignoring the support he’d given you would’ve been dumb. When you decided to give him a nice surfboard as a thank-you gift, you didn’t overthink it. You just thought about who JJ was—someone who loved the ocean and surfing. Beyond that? You didn’t know much. So you kept it simple. Spoiler alert: he liked it.

You hesitated, thinking a gift might make things unnecessarily sentimental, but he deserved it. Nobody else in his position would’ve treated you as kindly. Even Kooks barely treated each other well. Expecting a Pogue to go out of their way for you? Yeah, no.

But JJ had.

You weren’t super close, but during one of your conversations, he’d mentioned how much he liked the rare nights when his shift ended early. He worked at a pub. In your head, you’d given him two weeks before he got fired—or kicked out after starting a fight. You were that sure of it.

A week ago, knowing the end of his evening shift, you parked near the pub, sitting on your car hood to wait for him. The plan? Give him the surfboard. Maybe even give him a ride home if he needed one.

Fifteen minutes passed. He hadn’t come out.

You started questioning everything—maybe you’d gotten the wrong day? Or maybe you’d messed up the time?

Waiting around for nothing felt miserable. You should’ve paid better attention when he’d been talking about his schedule.

Not that the gift had been planned or anything. The idea had hit you on a whim. You just wanted to do something before you left. After all, there weren’t many people to say goodbye to. And texting JJ a quick see ya felt way too impersonal.

“What are you doing here?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes shooting up from your phone. JJ stood a few steps away, mid-turn before he stopped and faced you fully. His eyes scanned the car before landing on you.

Quickly, you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Making sure you didn’t pick another fight.” Sliding off the hood, you smirked.

JJ rolled his eyes, flashing you a sarcastic smile. “Ha-ha. How funny.”

Unlike him, your grin was genuine. Why should he have all the fun pissing people off? It was your turn.

Unlike him, your lips curled into a genuine smile. Was it always going to be him getting under your skin for his own amusement? No, this time, it was your turn.

You heard him say your name, his tone serious. “No, really. What are you doing here?”

Keeping surprises wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you couldn’t resist messing with him a little. After all, this was the first time in days you’d left the house—and only in your baggiest clothes. Might as well enjoy it.

“Just hanging out.”

He frowned, his eyes scanning the area before gesturing around. “Here? Outside the pub?”

The confusion on his face was nearly comical—borderline annoyed, maybe?

You mirrored his glance at the surroundings, raising your eyebrows. It wasn’t much to look at. Just… a place. “What’s wrong with here?”

JJ let out a frustrated sigh, and for a moment, you couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to annoy him. He genuinely looked upset. “Are you serious right now? You—” He stopped himself, clenching his jaw as he stepped closer. Lowering his voice, he added, “You can’t drink. You’re not even supposed to be hanging around.”

So, he thought you’d come here to drink? That’s why he was so worked up?

It was kind of… cute. But poking the bear was way more fun.

You let out a dramatic hum as you crossed your arms. “Not allowed? Says who?” You tried not to laugh at the look he shot you, a mix of exasperation and disbelief, like you’d lost your mind.

“Me. You’re not drinking. Not here, not anywhere. Have you lost it?”

Your lips pulled into a grin, and despite his attempt to scold you, his irritation only made it funnier. Especially since you hadn’t even done what he was accusing you of.

The second JJ caught onto what you were doing, his annoyed expression melted away. As your laughter echoed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah. Hilarious. Now, can you just tell me what you’re actually doing here?”

You clutched your stomach, your laughter dying down into a lingering smile. Sure, he wasn’t amused, but you were, and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ve got something for you.”

JJ’s eyebrows shot up. He straightened, intrigued. “Yeah?”

You stepped away from the car’s front, glancing back to see him still rooted in place. You gave him a quick head nod to follow. With a sigh, he finally moved. “If this is a gun for self-defense, just so you know, I’m not really clear on the rules here,” he joked with a wink.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Please. If I gave you a gun, you’d be arrested in, like, two seconds.”

He laughed, but you could tell he was curious now. Opening the back door, you reached inside. “It’s a thank-you gift. Kind of.”The surprise on his face was priceless. He clearly wasn’t expecting this. Honestly, neither were you until the idea struck.

JJ tilted his head, his expression skeptical. “Thank you? For what? For telling you not to pick fights?”

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t be serious. “No, JJ. For helping me out.”

He smiled, but it was that classic, goofy grin of his. Any trace of his earlier irritation had completely vanished. He didn’t even glance into the car. “Oh, I get it. Like a ‘without JJ, my life would’ve fallen apart’ kind of thank you? Go on, feed my ego. I live for this.”

For a split second, you considered slamming the door and driving off. Instead, you laughed. Sure, there was some truth to what he said, but no way were you letting him win.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door wider and stepped back. “Nope. It’s just a small gesture. Don’t read too much into it.”

JJ walked over and held the door open, his eyes going wide when he spotted the surfboard wedged into the backseat. His fingers ran over the smooth edges and the blue-and-white design. “You got this for me?” he asked, his voice softer now as he inspected it.

You couldn’t suppress your grin. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s kind of random, but I figured you could use your own board for a change. For everything you’ve done—” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It meant a lot.”

JJ’s smile was different this time. It wasn’t cocky or teasing. It was genuine. “If I don’t take this, I feel like you’d be really annoying about it,” he muttered, pulling the board from the car.

“Absolutely. You wouldn’t want to hear me talk about how I poured my heart into its design,” you teased.

He froze, eyes narrowing. “Wait—you designed it?”

You smirked, holding his gaze. “No. But it’s nice that you believed it for a second.”

JJ laughed, shaking his head as he leaned the board against the car. For once, he wasn’t mocking or making jokes. Instead, he looked at you with something softer, something you couldn’t quite place. “This is… perfect. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.”

He hesitated, glancing at the board before meeting your eyes again. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? That’s how it felt. Deep down, you’d even envied the way he was with his friends. He didn’t know you. In fact, he hated your group. But if he treated you like this—who knew how he treated his friends?

You weren’t used to people doing things for you without expecting something in return. Sure, you had a hunch JJ liked money. Not just you—everyone on the island knew that. But still, the way he talked to you, made time for you… it mattered. It broke the prejudice you had against him.

It wasn’t anything grand. He didn’t buy you houses or cars. He didn’t shower you with jewelry. But he talked to you like no one else did. He made you feel—like you were someone. Like someone whose decisions shouldn’t be dictated by anyone else’s words.

And that? That was worth more than jewelry. More than anything money could buy. It was something most people—Rafe included—didn’t have.

From the moment he heard, he didn’t tell anyone. What friend would do that? Ruthie? Sophie? Who?

JJ did.

And he wasn’t even your friend.

That’s why it mattered. He was just being himself, and you needed that.

“It felt like that.” JJ was holding the surfboard, his eyes catching yours. A strange silence fell between you. Neither of you had expected such a gesture—not just surfing, but the support he’d given you.

You hadn’t expected his support; that was his gesture to you. And he hadn’t expected a surfboard from you; that was your gesture to him.

JJ lifted the board to examine it, the usual smirk still on his face. He was clearly trying to ease the tension hanging between you. “So, I have my own board now, huh? I don’t have to give this one back, do I? Because when it comes to stuff like that, you’re pretty stubborn.”

“No, it’s yours,” you said, smiling. You were grateful for his teasing—it cut through the awkwardness. You could’ve stayed silent for hours. “But if I catch you getting into another fight, I’ll beat you with that board.”

JJ laughed, shaking his head. His gaze flicked between the board and you. He was ridiculously excited about the surfboard but trying hard not to show it. “Fair deal. But just so we’re clear, every cool move I pull off with this board? I’m crediting you. ‘Thanks to Princess for this wave,’ that kind of thing. You’re my sponsor now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny his antics made you laugh. He was fun to be around. You were glad the whole “status” nonsense between you two seemed to be fading. It wasn’t just you—he had his own assumptions about you too. But it felt like you’d both moved past that. “Okay. Sponsorship’s over. Go find your wave.”

JJ carefully propped the board against the wall, his expression softening. “Jokes aside, thanks. I mean it. This means a lot. Just don’t tell anyone I said that—gotta protect my image.” He smiled, dimples showing as he ran a hand through his hair.

You smiled back, nodding quickly. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

As you both grinned, JJ’s eyes flicked from you to the surfboard. Following his gaze, your eyes drifted to his hands, gently tracing the board like it was fragile.

“I’m leaving the island tomorrow.” The words tumbled out, and you saw his hands freeze. His gaze landed on you, but you kept your focus on the board, pretending to admire its design. It really was a beautiful surfboard. “So—I wanted to say thank you.”

His blue eyes pierced through you as if that was even possible. JJ didn’t say anything to make the moment heavier, just nodded. For several seconds, neither of you spoke. Realizing the air had gotten heavier, you shifted your tone to something more casual. “I could drive you home if you want.”

You weren’t the kind of person to offer, but making him carry a surfboard all the way home felt cruel.

JJ opened his mouth to respond, but a car horn blared from down the street. Both of you turned toward the sound. Outside the car, John B and Kiara were leaning against it, with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah visible through the windows. Pope waved at JJ from where he hung halfway out of the window.

When Sarah’s eyes met yours, you instinctively tugged at your shirt. There wasn’t anything visible, but still—you felt uneasy. “Wow,” you said, feigning amusement. “Your entourage is here.”

JJ hesitated, looking momentarily torn. Finally, he sighed, a guilty smile creeping onto his face. His gaze dropped to your hand still fidgeting with your shirt. For a split second, it seemed like he wanted to grab your hand, to stop you.

“Nothing’s showing,” he said, his eyes lingering on your waist. You knew that, but the idea of anyone finding out still terrified you. Especially someone from Rafe’s family. He didn’t want them to know, and neither did you. That’s why you felt the need to be extra cautious around Sarah and Wheezie.

“I know. It’s just—” You stopped, shutting your eyes briefly before opening them again. It was paranoia, but understandable. “Relax. No one knows, I swear.” His hand almost reached out to your arm, but he stopped, remembering his friends were watching from the car.

“Go,” you said, shrugging. You composed yourself. “Looks like you’ve got a ride after all.” You smiled.

JJ paused for a beat, then flashed a crooked smile. He hated the awkwardness lingering between you. “If this board isn’t as good as you said, you’re getting an earful. I’ll call you.” He walked backward, teasing. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

As you walked toward your front door, you noticed his movements slow. He stopped, turned, and looked back at you. It was like he’d remembered something he’d forgotten to do. Placing the surfboard down gently, his eyes briefly darted away from yours.

Then he walked up to you and stopped right in front of you. After a brief, silent pause, you felt his arms wrap around you. Was he… hugging you? Seriously? The gesture caught both of you off guard. You’d never imagined this kind of closeness. But then again, you hadn’t imagined buying him a surfboard either. So, it didn’t feel wrong. If buying him a gift made you feel this close, then it wasn’t strange that he’d feel close enough to hug you.

You returned the gesture, wrapping your arms around him. His grip was firm, and the scent of salt and ocean filled your senses. How did he always smell so much like the sea?

The hug was short, but both of you felt the strangeness of it. Once again—you felt like you’d crossed a line. Broken some unspoken rule.

JJ shrugged as he pulled back. “Yeah, that’s it. See you, uh… whatever.”

You took a deep breath, watching him stand there. You hated goodbyes. You were going to miss this island, and now—

“Yeah… goodbye.” You pushed your hair behind your shoulders, trying to steady your voice. You didn’t understand why you felt like you were losing a friend. Like you were going to… miss him?

Stop. Don’t even think about it.

JJ nodded, picking up the surfboard as he walked toward the car. You watched him for a moment before turning to the front door and stepping into your car. Through the windshield, you caught a glimpse of Kiara muttering something to Sarah. Whatever she was saying, you couldn’t hear.

When JJ got into the car, he paused, lowering his head for a brief moment before looking outside again.

He mouthed something to the group. Not to you, but to the friends in the car. “Just shut up.”

When he gave you a quick nod, you returned it before starting your car. Watching them drive off, you felt a strange mix of relief and melancholy. You’d thanked JJ, and that was all you wanted. It was done.

Except for the quiet ache of losing a friend.

You’d left only a few clothes back at the house on the island. The furniture and everything else stayed in your room. Your parents insisted the room remain untouched—they wanted you to know there was still a home for you there. They even promised not to change a thing.

The first few months were bound to be hard; you knew that. Living alone was going to take some getting used to. But you hoped it’d all be worth it when you finally held your baby.

Now, you were sitting on the couch in your new place, sipping a green smoothie. You’d have given anything for a coffee, but pregnancy meant sacrifices. A little caffeine might not hurt, but you didn’t want to risk it. The smoothie was healthy, though it tasted awful.

It had only been six days since the move. You’d allowed yourself time to explore the area, taking walks around the quiet streets. Your parents had offered to stay with you for a few days, but you politely declined. You wanted to settle in on your own. Leaning on their warmth and presence only to have it ripped away later would have made the loneliness worse. You couldn’t let that happen.

Morning sickness had eased enough for a few walks, so you’d wandered the calm streets near your house. Quiet, orderly, nothing like Outer Banks. You couldn’t help but compare the two. Everything here was different. The people, the lifestyle—it all felt so structured and tame. But a part of you missed the chaos of the island. The freedom. The absurdity of going to the store in a bikini without anyone batting an eye. That tight-knit community where everyone knew each other’s names.

You’d visited the local park a few times. It was rarely crowded, and you hadn’t met anyone yet. By the time you arrived, most of the adults and kids were just beginning to trickle in.

So, here you were: your own place. Did that make you an adult?

How did adults even make friends? Scratch that—how did anyone past a certain age make friends? As a kid, it was easy. Just ask someone to play with you, and that was it. Middle school? Same thing.

But now? You didn’t know a soul here. What were you supposed to do? Walk up to someone and introduce yourself?

Terrifying thought.

Still, maybe worth trying, right?

-

Socializing wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Your eyes scanned the park’s scenery. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, and birds chirped in the branches above. A group of kids played in a sandbox, their laughter mingling with the faint sounds of distant traffic.

You clasped your hands over your stomach, exhaling deeply. “Maybe this is good for me,” you thought.

But the whole idea still felt horrifying. Sitting at home would’ve been worse, though. At least you were out, breathing fresh air.

Introducing yourself to someone, though? Out of the question. No anxiety attacks, but your chest tightened just thinking about it. No, you’d just sit and enjoy the park for a bit. That would be enough.

Your gaze dropped to the book in your lap: Healthy Nutrition and Development During Pregnancy. You fiddled with the corner of its cover. Would someone else find this funny? Carrying a guidebook instead of a novel wasn’t something even you would’ve expected a few months ago. But here you were, on the verge of a whole new chapter. Screw what anyone thought—you were preparing for your future.

Suddenly, the bench shifted slightly as someone sat down beside you. The movement snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced up to find a middle-aged woman with an energetic demeanor. Her dyed-blond hair revealed a hint of gray at the roots, and a steaming coffee cup rested in her hands.

“Ugh, I hope I can finish this before it goes cold,” she muttered to herself before calling out to the playground. “Tati! No running, sweetheart!”

She waved toward the child before turning back to you with a wide smile.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” she chirped.

You gave her a polite smile, nodding. “It is,” you replied, subtly shifting your book closer to your lap. Her eyes flicked to the book in your hands, narrowing slightly as if trying to make out the title. “Is that a… guidebook?” she finally asked.

You tilted your head slightly. “Yes,” you said simply, hoping that’d be enough to end the conversation.

“A pregnancy guide?” she pressed, her curiosity accompanied by a cheerful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How sweet! Helping out a sister or expecting a niece?—Oh, where are my manners? I’m Viola.”

Her question caught you off guard. You hesitated briefly before giving your name. “Uh, no. It’s for me,” you said with a small smile.

Her expression shifted instantly. Her eyes widened, her grin turning stiff and awkward. “For you? Oh…”

You nodded, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. She had seemed friendly at first, but the subtle judgment on her face now was impossible to ignore.

“How far along?” she asked, as if the question was perfectly natural.

“Sixteen weeks,” you mumbled, pretending to smooth the book’s pages. The weight of her gaze made your skin crawl.

“Ah, so young,” she murmured, taking a long sip from her coffee. When she lowered the cup, her eyes lingered on you, as though dissecting every detail. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Twenty,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral but feeling the words land heavier than you intended. You watched her eyebrows knit together as she took a sharp breath.

“Twenty? You look barely old enough to drive!” she exclaimed, clearly not trying to be subtle. Then, almost conspiratorially, “But… you must be married, right?”

Your hands instinctively moved to rest on your stomach, but you hesitated to respond. The silence must have been answer enough because her eyes flicked from your belly back to your face.

“Oh,” she said knowingly, her smile tightening further. “So… is the father still in the picture?”

What was this, an interrogation?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. Was it the tone of her voice? Or the audacity of her questions? Whatever it was, it stung. “That’s not something I need to discuss with you,” you said firmly, fighting to keep the frustration out of your voice.

Viola shrugged, but her scrutinizing look didn’t waver. “Fair enough. But raising a baby at your age, and without… well, you know. It’s going to be tough. Don’t you think this was a bit… impulsive?”

Her words hit like a cold wind. You tightened your grip on your stomach and tilted your head slightly. “That’s none of your business,” you said, your voice harder now.

Viola didn’t back down. “Yes, maybe you’re right. But people talk, sweetheart. And usually, they judge the ones they think made the wrong decisions…” She paused, pursing her lips. “Well, they judge.”

That was all you needed to hear. You tucked your book under your arm like you were putting it in a bag, got up, and said, “I think it’s time for me to leave,” your tone colder than even you expected.

Viola raised a hand as if trying to smooth things over. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” she said, but the look in her eyes betrayed the opposite. “I’m just saying this for your own good.”

You could shove your “thoughts” up your ass.

Turning on your heel, you walked toward the park’s exit. The sound of her coffee cup being placed on the bench and her murmuring words echoed behind you. A fresh start sounded nice, you thought. But a new beginning wasn’t a guarantee of escaping old judgments.

There was no way you were going out to socialize again anytime soon. You hated that woman. With every fiber of your being. The way she judged you with that smug little brain of hers—it made your blood boil. You had no memory of how you even made it back home.

You made yourself some hot cocoa, hoping it would calm your nerves. Honestly, lying flat in the grass wouldn’t have been enough to shake off the anger at this point.

Even though you tried to distract yourself—knowing full well that stress wasn’t good for the baby—it wasn’t working. The incident replayed in your mind on a loop. You were certain you’d shiver every time you walked past that park again.

Who did she think she was, anyway? How could someone pass judgment on a stranger like that? The sheer audacity—it was baffling.

The sound of your phone notification pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Glancing over, you reached for the phone resting on the couch.

You waited for a reply, but when nothing came, you set the phone down again. At least one of you was having a good day. Even though you felt like you were on the verge of exploding, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

The sudden ring of your phone startled you. You looked over, eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. JJ Maybank was calling you. Right now.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you grabbed the half-full cocoa mug from the table with your other hand. You weren’t going to drink it anymore. You were too annoyed to even think about washing it, but you figured you could at least move it somewhere out of sight. JJ’s voice came through the speaker, and despite everything, a small smile crept onto your face. For all his antics, he was a decent guy.

Heading toward the kitchen, you heard the cheerfulness in his voice as he began, “Used it this morning.” He was talking about the surfboard, excitement practically dripping from his words.

Frowning slightly, you placed the mug on the counter. This morning? Shouldn’t he have been at work? “This morning? Weren’t you supposed to be at work?”

There was a brief pause before JJ let out a muffled laugh. “Got fired,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Honestly, with him, it kind of was. You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

You weren’t surprised—of course, you weren’t. With the phone still pressed to your ear, you wandered over to the window and glanced outside. “Figured,” you said, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

JJ didn’t miss a beat, his tone now teasingly accusatory. “Wait a second. Did you bet on me?”

Smiling, you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, your attention momentarily caught by a cat wandering down the street. JJ cleared his throat, bringing you back. “No, but I wish I had,” you said.

His response came in the form of a dramatic groan. “That’s the meanest thing I’ve heard all week. You’re better than this.”

You turned around and walked toward the kitchen, your tone a little sharper now. “Get used to it.”

JJ responded immediately, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. “Never,” he shot back. Then, after a brief pause, his tone softened, but he added a teasing edge. “Pregnancy hormones have turned you into a completely different person. And it’s only been six days.”

The way he always knew how to push your buttons—and somehow make you smile instead of snap—was maddening. You found yourself tapping the corner of the table with your fingers, a habit you didn’t even notice until it happened. “I take pride in that,” you said, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

JJ came back stronger, more confident this time. “Hey, do you think it’s the hormones, or is it because you haven’t seen my handsome face for six whole days?” There was that familiar cocky tone, but you could tell he was trying to make you laugh. “I’d bet everything it’s because you haven’t seen my handsome face.”

“Even your surfboard?” you teased, your voice lifting just enough to show you were fully invested in the banter now. You moved toward the living room and dropped onto the couch, your gaze briefly flitting to the TV. But your attention was fully locked on JJ.

“Not a chance,” he replied instantly, almost defensive. “The board’s off-limits. Too precious.”

You chuckled, grabbing the nearby blanket and pulling it over your lap. “Then you’ve lost everything except the surfboard,” you said, shaking your head in mock disapproval. JJ’s laugh echoed through the phone, rich and warm, before he quipped, “You’ve been extra rude lately,” his voice carrying a mix of mock hurt and teasing amusement.

You didn’t just roll your eyes—you sank deeper into the couch, grabbing a pillow to prop yourself up. Of course, he’d called just to mess with you. Was he bored? Had he decided you were the best target for entertainment? “I’ve always been like this,” you replied with a shrug he couldn’t see.

“Nope,” JJ shot back instantly, his tone softer but still certain. A brief silence followed, filled only by the sound of your own breathing, before he spoke again. This time, his voice was a little more sincere. “So… how’s it going? Living alone and all?”

You didn’t hate that he asked. Actually, it felt nice to talk to someone. As an adult—or whatever weird in-between phase you were in—socializing wasn’t exactly easy. It hadn’t been easy on the island either, but at least that had been your choice. This wasn’t.

You took a deep breath, realizing the question was harder to answer than you’d expected. “It sucks,” you admitted finally, the honesty not surprising you in the slightest.

“Why?” JJ’s voice was softer now, laced with just enough concern to feel genuine but not suffocating. It was like he always knew how to navigate these moments without overstepping. And honestly, it was strange—good strange.

You tried to sort through the chaos in your head. “I don’t know,” you said with a faint sigh. “I haven’t really connected with anyone. I don’t know anyone here.”

JJ, ever the problem-solver in his own weird way, jumped in with his trademark ease. “Then make friends with the stray cats,” he said, that classic carefree tone of his bringing a smile to your face despite everything.

“I already have you,” you teased back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t possibly betray you.”

His laugh from the other end of the line was contagious. “Not funny.” 

Fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, you hesitated before mumbling, “Are you okay? How are you?” Somehow, over the phone, it felt easier to ask—less intimidating than it would’ve been face-to-face.

“I’m amazing,” JJ said, his voice taking on a flat, almost robotic tone that screamed deflection.

“Your ego is exhausting,” you retorted, matching his sarcasm. Why couldn’t he just answer the question for once? Did everything have to be a game? “Seriously. How are you? After… you know, that day.”

JJ exhaled deeply, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost reluctant. “I don’t live with my dad anymore.”

You sat up straighter, grabbing the remote to lower the TV’s volume. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Packed up my stuff and left.”

It wasn’t exactly shocking. In fact, you were relieved he’d done it. Knowing he’d been living with someone who hurt him was unbearable. But still, you couldn’t stop your brow from furrowing. You couldn’t shake the worry. “Are you staying with John B?”

JJ’s silence was unexpected. You listened to the sound of his breathing, the faintest hitch before he finally answered. “Kind of?”

“What does that mean?” Your voice sharpened with concern. Why was he dancing around the answer when he could just tell you?

JJ sighed again, his tone shifting as though he’d stepped further away from the phone. “They don’t know I left yet. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

He hadn’t told his closest friends? Why? They weren’t the type to judge him. You didn’t know them well, but you were sure of that much. It didn’t make sense.

Even as your worry grew, you knew pressing him wasn’t the right move. “So where are you staying?�� you asked cautiously.

JJ’s tone hardened. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” There it was—his three-year-old tantrum mode. Did he really think people didn’t have the right to worry about him? Idiot.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling your patience wearing thin. “As your friend, I’m allowed to be concerned about your safety, JJ. Just tell me where you’re staying.”

His tone shifted again, this time lighter, more teasing. “Friend, huh? That’s nice. Kook and Pogue forever.”

“Shut it,” you snapped, your irritation clear. All you wanted was to know he was safe. “Just tell me already.”

JJ paused, then let out a soft laugh—the kind you knew was covering up something deeper. Even a toddler could tell. “I stayed with them for a few days. Been figuring it out since.”

You frowned. That wasn’t a solution. “You need to tell them,” you said gently.

He responded with the same stubbornness you’d come to expect, but his tone hinted at a smirk. “This is my problem, princess.” Then, as if to shift the mood, he added, “This is the first time we’ve talked on the phone. Cute, right? Now, tell me about your day.”

Despite the worry gnawing at you, you relaxed just a little. He wouldn’t be joking around like this if things were terrible… right?

You hoped so cause—JJ is your friend.

[vityaposting]

WRITING REQUEST HIII

what about reader going to viktor to get augmented for a non physical reason - like maybe mental illness or addiction or something (idk dealers choice) and viktor slowly getting to know them over time. eventually reader overcomes their problem, and viktor realises that he likes reader just the way they are - unaugmented or not.

don't feel obligated to do this lol just saw that your requests where open

HI!!!! i love this request so much i decided it needs to be a multi chapter thing (4 or 5 probably?) i got broken up with yesterday so i ATE this prompt up lol

how to heal a rusted heart - mh!viktor x gn!reader - part 1

wc: 2100

You approach Emberflit Alley with no small amount of trepidation. The house is smaller than you expected, shoddier on the outside; shutters hang from foggy, cracked windows, and ivy like claw-scratches makes its way up the worn brick walls. You know—as does every Zaunite you’ve ever met—that there is more to the Machine Herald’s residence than meets the eye. You don’t know exactly how—somewhere, some way, there is a massive laboratory tucked behind the house’s unassuming facade. Maybe a separate underground sector, or even a pocket dimension supplied by the Herald’s knowledge of thinning the barrier between tech and magic. All these speculations are, of course, rumors—you’ve never had a reason to solve the mystery yourself. Until today. Today, you’d snapped.

Your chest still burns with the fury of it all. Betrayal. And to think they’d claimed to love you. Sickly-sweet self-satisfaction rises like bile to the back of your throat, putting a little more power behind your knock on the door. You’d been right. Paranoia, your doctor had proclaimed years ago—a not-uncommon symptom of your particular ailment. Well, was it true paranoia if you were always proven right in the end?

It doesn’t matter. After tonight, you won’t care.

A thickly-accented voice cuts through the speaker above the knocker: “You may enter.”

Ominous. You push away your trepidation, another instinct you’d be free of sooner rather than later. The door is heavy steel—you have to use your shoulder to pry it open, but once you’ve managed its weight, it swings inward for you on well-oiled hinges.

You emerge into a wide space thick with the stenches of metal and oil, cast under an ambient glow in various shades of orange. Lights flicker at you from lanterns on the walls, from faint bulbs hung across the ceiling. A lab bench spans the entire length of the room, which seems impossibly large compared to the house’s outer facade. A pocket dimension it is, then. Maybe. You still can’t be sure. The equipment littered across the bench is foreign and complex-looking.

The whistle of steam and clicking of gears greets you before the Herald himself can.

He’s tinkering with something. Something sharp. He sets it down, turns on his stool, lowers his hood and pushes his goggles onto his forehead. You aren’t quite sure what you expected the Machine Herald to look like under his armor and mask. If he even takes them off at all. Whatever you expected, this isn’t it.

“Good evening,” he says levelly. His voice rumbles in his throat, his accent lending the greeting a soft, alluring quality. He tilts his head, an oddly innocent gesture, considering his reputation. “With what can I be of service?”

The words you’ve been rehearsing for hours lodge themself in your throat, and even a heavy swallow can’t force them out. The Herald is unblinking. Molten orange pupils burn into yours, piercing against his dark scleras. His face is pale and his features sharp—he’s beautiful, you note, not completely willingly—and his frame is thin and willowy beneath his cloak.

“Well?” he prompts, and shame floods you, reminding you why you decided to take measures this drastic in the first place. “Nobody comes this deep into the Lanes just to visit me. Not to say I mind the solitude.”

He doesn’t want you here.

You’re here for a service, scolds the rational side of your mind, a side which seems to grow more and more powerless with every passing week, with every friend you lose, with every burst of rage and every bridge you burn. A service he openly advertises. He allowed you to open the door. He could have… have death-rayed you.

“Mister… Machine Herald,” you begin, horrendously embarrassed at how your voice quavers. The air in the lab is muggy. You wrap your arms around your middle anyway. “I’ve heard of the… the services you provide, and I—”

“Viktor,” he interrupts. “Viktor will suffice.”

You cough. His eyes narrow.

“Go on. You seek augmentation.”

“Of the… unconventional variety, I guess you could say. Less of a physical augmentation and more of a…”

“You are at war with your own mind,” he observes. “I can see it in your eyes. Come closer.”

And you do, because there’s something in the rumble of his voice—which is so close to a growl you feel weak in the knees—and the sharp glow of his eyes that draws you in like a moth to a lantern. He gestures to the second stool at his side. You wonder who it’s normally reserved for. Patients? Experimental subjects? A partner, perhaps—or has he always only worked alone?

“You’re tense. Relax.” He speaks with such calm authority that it’s impossible not to listen. “I will not touch you without explicit permission. If it’s only emotional suppression you seek, I may be able to offer a solution that does not require me to lay hands on you.”

You don’t know why this disappoints you.

He tilts his head as he gazes at you, one gloved hand fidgeting with a trinket on his workbench. “Tell me. In detail. What is it you want out of this? What causes you such pain?”

“Everything,” you say. It’s almost a whimper. He raises an eyebrow. Clearing the embarrassment from your throat, you try again. “Everything is… is so much. I’m scared. All the time. I can’t love anyone anymore, I… I’m afraid they’ll all leave me.” Oftentimes, they do, you neglect to add. This won’t concern Viktor. He has no reason to care. “And it can change on a coin. It’s like you said. It’s like being at war.” A war between your body and your brain, you’ve realized, would never be one worth fighting. This, however, seems to be the only way to put an end to things. You look at Viktor plaintively, hoping he isn’t judging. If the rumors are true, he removed his ability to judge long ago.

“Ah,” he said after a silence that seemed to stretch for eons. “I understand.”

“My doctor says it’s an… ailment.”

“That may be,” he says. “As such, you have a right to want to heal it. Procedures with the intent to alter emotions are harder and riskier than procedures focused on the physical. I am happy to give you what you ask for, but you must be aware of the potential consequences. Do you intend to eliminate all emotions, or… only their extremities?”

“Only the extremities.” Life will be much easier, you think, if you never have to love another person again. Amicable acquaintanceship, however, hurts nobody.

“Good,” he hums. “Complete removal is difficult. If I weren’t so stubborn I’d nearly say it was impossible.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried,” he says plainly.

“And you failed?” You don’t know what emboldens you to say it.

“I simply have not yet succeeded.”

You look at him, then, really look at him. And behind those beautiful eyes that glow with the light of a hundred fires, shine with the darkness of a hundred polluted Zaun nights, you almost swear you see your own loneliness staring back at you.

“It’s risky,” he continues. “In the case that something goes awry, do not say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course,” you whisper.

“May I take a closer look? I’d like to get a feel for the incision site.”

You nod a silent confirmation and bow your head, gripping the sides of the stool. He wheels himself closer. Lifts his hand. You hold your breath.

The Herald’s hands are gentle when they card through your hair, pushing a few strands away from your forehead. His demeanor now is a far cry from the terrifying villain you know him to be—the chaos-wreaking force of evil most of Zaun insists he is. You wonder, as your breathing calms, exactly how many of the tales are wild fantasy, because this soft touch is the realest thing you've felt in a long, long time.

“All I can promise you is that I will be careful,” he murmurs, tracing a line from the center of your forehead to the crown of your hair. “This particular procedure is immensely detail-oriented, even in comparison to the others I’ve performed. To dampen your emotions, I will be altering your limbic system, in the simplest of terms. However, if I am not meticulous, I risk damaging other functions, such as reasoning or memory.”

Truth be told, waking up without any memory of the hurt you’ve endured doesn’t sound too awful.

But, you realize as a shiver runs down your spine—you want to remember this.

“There is another option,” Viktor goes on. You’re forced to draw your attention away from his soft, prodding touches. “Implants in the form of pills. Those, however, I’ve not yet managed to make permanent. They’re finicky, and they don’t last long. You’d have to take them twice a day—one separate medication for each emotion you wish to suppress. I imagine it would all be a hassle. This, however… if you consent, I can perform the entire procedure in one process, and your desired results will be immediate.” He draws his hand back, lightly scratching your scalp—it’s enough to relax, but not enough to hurt. “You don’t have to decide today.”

“No, no. That’s alright. I’ll take the… the surgery.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Finality settles over you like a chilly breeze as he pulls away. You’ll finally be free. Free of heartbreak, of fury, of flaws. There’s something in his mechanical gaze that unnerves you and enthralls you simultaneously. Something human.

“Being that this is a complicated procedure,” he says, “I will have to schedule it in advance. I will reserve an entire day for you and I cannot free the time for a week. A week from today. Is that alright with you? I can give you the medication to temporarily curb your symptoms in the meantime, if you like. It’s experimental, but I am relatively sure of its safety.”

He looks so hopeful. You know the joy etched in the lines of his sharp face is nothing more than the joy of scientific innovation, but it’s endearing all the same. The Machine Herald of Zaun’s urban legends is a completely different person. You find it hard to believe that the cackling, murderous tyrant rumored to haunt the Lanes even shares a name with the man in front of you. There’s a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and a few locks of hair sticking up haphazardly from beneath his goggles. You find yourself cracking a grin for the first time in days.

“No,” you say. Your chest feels lighter. Just a bit. Enough to be noticeable, enough to instill the certainty that trusting your life to the Herald is the right decision—malicious cackle, terrifying armor, death laser, and all. “No, I’ll be alright.”

He crosses his arms over his lap. “You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he says softly. “But the ache in your heart… someone put it there. I know the feeling. You are not the first to be driven away from loving altogether. I once thought I had a simple fix. I… do not know if it was the foolproof solution I thought it was. I will perform any procedure on you that you wish. But you should know this. Metal is perfection, yes, but love… love can rust the strongest steel.” He swallows, fiery eyes flickering. “I thought I’d warn you. However, I do my best for all my patients, and you are no exception.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. You’re grateful for the lab’s low lighting—it’s unlikely Viktor can see the blush crawling up your neck. “I—thank you.”

“Do you still want this? Even considering the risk?”

He looks at you so softly. He must look at everyone that softly, you realize, but the knowledge doesn’t make you feel any less warm. “Yeah.”

He gives you a businesslike nod, and you can see the Machine Herald’s persona sliding back into place. Cold. Unfeeling. For a moment, though, you saw the truth. “Thank you. I will see you one week from today—be here as early in the morning as you please. I’ll walk you out. Be safe out there. I can only complete the procedure if you return to me in one piece.”

What a gentleman, you think, but you say nothing. You accept with a small smile.

His hand brushes your shoulder as you reach for the handle of the door. Your whole body sparks, as if you’re a machine already.

“Goodbye,” he says. “And best of luck. I will pray that the next week treats you kindly.”

You almost want to hug him goodbye—out of thanks if nothing else. You hold yourself back. “I’ll see you then.”

The last thing you see before the door shuts behind you are his eyes. Two pinpricks of light in the darkness of the Lanes. Mechanical though they are, you realize they still crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

[sturnina]

🕷 — Spray Cans and Web Shooters

Spiderman!Chris x Delinquent!reader AU

— summary;; when two coincidences cause the hero of the city to come across a graffiti artist…

— wc;; 1.5k

— trigger warning;; none! (yet)

— author‘s note;; idk, this feels more like a full fic than an au. maybe i'll just make it an oneshot collection

The afternoon Spider-Man decides to differ from his usual patrol routine is the day his life changes forever. Naturally, he won’t realise that until much, much later, and even then, he won’t be able to recall what exactly happened to throw him off the rails so badly. But for now, let’s focus on this one afternoon and what made it so special.

It has been a long and exhausting for Chris Sturniolo, “A long ass annoying shit day,” to use his own words. He doesn’t speak them to anyone, instead cursing them under his breath while swinging through the city on his usual route.

The people don’t notice anything being wrong. For them, it’s just another slow, boring work day, with the joyful outlook to a calm evening. Which Chris doesn’t have, not for today. He‘s glad they don’t notice, though, as he continues swinging from one building to the other, through narrow alleyways, all while still keeping an eye out for trouble. It’s his job, after all.

But there is nothing, no one who needs him. He is relieved about this — of course he is, less crimes means less bad people means more good people means more goodness in this world… right? It also means less work for him. Less headache. But he wouldn’t admit that, at least not aloud.

Chris decides to give up. For today, he’s had enough to worry about. He swings back to the alley where he left his backpack and the skateboard before crossing the city again, over to the old railway station right outside the city.

The way there takes Chris longer than expected, but he finally slings his webs to the last transmission tower before landing on the roof of the station. But the second he finds footing, his spider-sense goes off.

He‘s not alone. Great.

Groaning, he crouches down, burying his head in his hands. So much to skateboarding in peace and blowing off steam. Well, he could just find another place. But… nah. Instead, he uses his webs to stick the skateboard to the roof and looks for a hole, slowly lowering himself into the hall while holding onto a string of web.

The first thing he sees is a girl, staring at an empty wall. The lower part of her face is covered by a piece of cloth, and she’s holding a spray can. You see, normally he wouldn’t care. But today, he’s had enough things fuck his mood up.

He lets go with one hand and shoots a string of webs through the hall. It lands directly on the wrist of the girl, pinning her to the wall. The sounds of the spray can rolling over the floor and her surprised yelp are more satisfying to him than they should be.

Your day? Boring, to say the least. The shift at the garage was especially short since your boss decided to close earlier than usual, due to a lack of customers. At least he paid well. It was less than usual but according to your estimate still more than you should’ve got for today’s work. You’re not complaining, though.

The entire friend group is at work still, scattered around the city, while you make your way through the streets. Technically, you could go visit some of them… Nah. You can’t even remember half of their workplaces, why worry about finding them?

Plugging in your old headphones, you fall into a faster pace, half jogging, half skipping through the alleyways. You are meant to meet up with your friends anyway, so you decide to arrive there early. About an hour early. Whatever, passing time on your own isn’t difficult. Especially because you can feel the weight of two fresh spray cans in your bag.

Heartbeat quickening with anticipation, you pick up your pace, now running down the streets until you reach the bike stand where your priciest possession stands. Maybe not your favourite, since you still hope to get a motorbike one day, but definitely the one you worry about the most. If your bike gets stolen, the city sure as hell gets ripped apart until you find it again. That shit cost a ton of money you’d saved over almost a year, despite being secondhand.

Having fastened the bag on the rack, you jump on the bike and start cycling down the street until you find the train tracks. Following them until the street turns into bumpy ground, and the houses around you slowly disappear, replaced by fields.

And then the abandoned railway station appears in your vision, and you speed up your pace, even though you’re already panting with the effort. Standing up on the bike helps, and you feel a cool breeze run through your hair.

There’s a fence separating the station from the road, but that’s not stopping you. After making sure the bike is locked and secured, you grab your bag and turn the volume of the music slightly down while wandering off the road, following the fence through the grass up to your thighs. Quietly humming along to the music as the song changes, you glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re alone before crouching down and cautiously crawling through an opening in the fence. It wouldn’t be the first time to rip your clothes on the spiky ends, but you manage to come out in one piece.

Now it’s time to hurry before anyone sees you. You run along the train tracks until your steps start echoing and you’re standing in the huge hall that once was a busy industrial railway. The company probably went bankrupt or something, leaving it abandoned, you can’t really be bothered to care.

All you care about is the space this place offers. Except for a few smaller, closed-off rooms, there’s just this huge hall with broken windows. Well, some of them are still intact, but they’re mostly the ones higher up, where people can’t throw stones. Not that you would’ve tried.

In one corner of the hall, there’s a mess of old bottles, glass shards and ashes from old fires. That’s not where you’re headed now, though, you’re walking to one of the last empty spots on the wall. You could just cover someone else’s graffiti, but most of the people who come here don’t like that.

Staring at the wall, you take out one earplug to make sure you’ll hear when someone enters, and wrap a piece of fabric around your nose and mouth. After working in a car workshop for two years, you’re well aware that it’s not enough protection. But hey, at least you’re wearing something. And honestly? It looks cooler than wearing nothing.

But before you can set the first stroke with the paint, your arm slams against the wall. The spray can hits the stone with a loud clang, gets repelled and rolls across the hall, continuously emitting a metallic noise.

Your eyes dart up to your hand. It sticks to the wall, no matter how hard you try to pull it away. And it’s covered in some kind of white, sticky stuff, almost like…

“Destroying public property?” someone asks, and your head snaps around. Unheard by you, someone entered the hall. But not just anyone.

With wide eyes, you stare at the figure… hanging only a few feet in front of you. Covered in a red suit, Spider-Man looks at you, dangling upside-down from the roof.

“That’s not very nice, you know,” he adds, nodding to your bag. The other graffiti cans are clearly visible.

After overcoming the initial shock, you’re able to relax your shoulders and look him in the eyes — or, well, where his eyes would be if they weren’t covered by pieces of white fabric.

“What are you gonna do, get me arrested?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I just might,” he replies, his head turning slightly, indicating that he’s looking at the wall behind you now. “But looking at your record, I don’t think that would help…”

Face paling and heartbeat quickening, you let his words sink in. Does he know you? Your voice is tense when you speak. “What do you know about me?”

“Oh, was I right?” he asks, letting out a little laugh. “I wasn’t sure. Was a shot in the dark.”

“Fuck you,” you grumble, eyebrows furrowing. The fact that he guessed it so quickly annoys you. Are you so easy to see through?

Spider-Man shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun,” he says before dropping himself, turning in the air at the last moment, and catching himself with bending knees and one hand to the ground.

“Very impressive,” you mutter sarcastically to cover up the shame that this is the first time you’ve seen him in person. What is he even doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be catching crime in the city, not sticking innocent graffiti artists to walls in the suburbs?

Before you can voice the question, he shoots his webs to the roof and swings up.

“Hey!” you shout, your voice echoing in the hall. “What about me?”

“It’ll dissolve in an hour,” he calls back, sitting on one of the beams supporting the massive roof. “Until then… you can think about what you wanted to do and why it’s bad! Very bad!”

And then he just swings away, as if nothing ever happened. What the fuck?

— tags;; @fallininlust @bluestriips @wh0remikasas (tell me if you want to be tagged <3)

[noomeriff]

Ghostly Affection

Summary: You get separated from Mr. Crawling, will you be able to find him again?

Tags: Mr. Crawling x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word count: 1849

A/n: Well, after literally years of not writing, guess I just needed a sweet ball of sunshine in the form of a creepy ghost man to make my inspiration come back. Hope you enjoy!^^

Bold: Other World Language

"Mr. Crawling?!"

The sound of your footsteps echoes in the empty hallways, your eyes frantically scanning every room you pass. 

"Mr. Crawling, can you hear me?!"

The dizziness starts again, your vision blurring as you lean on a wall to regain balance.

~~~

It all happened so quickly.

You were walking through the immense maze of hallways, trying to find your way back to the other friendly residents, hoping to find some clue that could help you return to your world. 

 

How long has it been since you've woken up in this place? Days? Weeks? You didn't know. What you did know was that the sound of clothes brushing against the cold floors was starting to become an anchor to your sanity, as crazy as it may sound. 

You smiled as you looked over your shoulder, the friendly ghost smiling in return. For some reason, the presence of Mr. Crawling was the only thing that could make you feel a little bit safer in this dangerous and unpredictable place.

You were passing through a big room, talking, or at least trying to communicate at the best of your abilities, pointing at the objects as he answered in an eager voice to your questions.

 

Then everything started moving. Cracks forming on the walls, pieces of the ceiling breaking down as you looked at Mr. Crawling in panic. The both of you darted forward, trying to reach for the exit.

 

You saw him make it to the doorway. 

 

Then you felt gravity pulling you down.

 

He tried to reach for your hand. Your fingertips brushed against each other for a brief second, but it was too late. 

 

You screamed as the floor crumbled under your feet.

~~~

You catch yourself before sliding down to the floor, using both your hands to get back up, "I should get going."

Really? And where will you go?

You look around, walking into the next hallway, your heart starting to beat irregularly, "I must keep moving, I'm sure I'll find him soon."

But what if you don't? This place changes, after all. 

You shake your head as you open another door, trying to suppress the intrusive thoughts, "Mr. Crawling!!"

What if you never find him? What if you can't find your way back to the others?

You mentally scold yourself, your breathing labored as you feel panic starting to invade your mind. Another door opens, welcoming you into a long, large tunnel.

You will forever walk through this hell alone.

All the strength you had left suddenly vanishes, your arms wrapping over your stomach as you fall on your knees. Dread starts to fill your chest like cold, sharp claws piercing your heart.

 

The only thing you had left was crying, to succumb to the harsh reality of this world. Tears stream down your cheeks, your voice feeble as you try to keep your last bit of hope close. 

"Mr. Crawling..."

 

Something moves at the end of the tunnel. 

Your head shoots up instinctively, your hand wrapping tighter on your crowbar, ready to swing at whatever hostile monster was there. 

You listen closely, keeping your breath steady at the best you could while your eyes squint in the darkness in front of you.

 

Then you hear it.

 

The familiar sound of fabric.

A wave of relief washes over you, so strong that your heart compresses in your chest.

Before you even realize it, you're running. The sound of your shoes echoes within the walls of the tunnel. You run until you can finally see the hunched over figure of your friend, who's looking around, confused and alarmed by the noise.

Tears well up in your eyes, the relief so intense that you can't contain it.

You instinctively throw your crowbar to the side, it was only slowing you down. The metal clings on the ground, catching his attention.

You fall on your knees, your arms wrapping tightly around his body as you bury your face into his chest, "Mr. Crawling!!"

He yelps in surprise, not realizing what's going on as he tries to keep his balance. After an infinite moment of silent, he giggles. The eerie but all too familiar giggle you've been longing to hear, the only thing that could cement in your mind that this is reality, you are not dreaming and you're not alone anymore.

In an instant his thin, but strong arms wrap around you, almost crushing you by the sheer intensity of it, "You find me!"

Tears fall faster as you reciprocate his hug, almost in fear that he could vanish as soon as you let go.

"Floor drop! You disappear! Me worry!!", Mr. Crawling basks in the sudden affection, his body swinging from side to side, unable to contain his happiness, "Me search! You find me! Me glad!"

He suddenly stills, your sobs finally reaching his ear. He quickly tries to take a better look at you, but he's met by your iron grip around his chest.

You feel his long, cold fingers rest on the top of your head, softly caressing your hair to soothe you.

"Pet, pet..."

He doesn't move, not entirely sure what to do, but trying his best to calm you down. 

As soon as you feel your breath steady a little, you feel his hands rest on your shoulders, gently pulling you away from him. Your tears run down your cheeks as he looks at you, his expression getting more worried by the second.

He slowly moves one of his hands close to your face, touching a tear with the tip of his finger, quickly retracting it as soon as it makes contact, "Eye...water?"

Do the other world entities even know what tears are?

His expression somehow turns even more worried, scanning your face and your arms, "You hurt? Pain?"

You take a deep breath, brushing away a streak of tears with the back of your hand, "No, no-" you try to remember the right words in the mess that is your mind at the moment, "Me not hurt."

A moment of silence falls as you search for the right words to use.

"Me...afraid. Many, many afraid...", you grab onto his clothes, "Me not know where you... Me alone..."

You yelp as you feel both of his hand hold the sides of your head, caressing you almost fervently. You're only able to notice his frown, his expression a mask of worry as he tries to make you feel better, "Pet, pet!!"

As your head bounces from side to side, you can't help the laugh that bubbles in your throat, your hair already a tangled mess.

You grab his wrists, fighting against him as he still tries to go on, "Mr. Crawling, wait-!" another chuckle escapes your lips as you look at him, "Stop!"

He stops, his attention turning on you as you lower his hands away from your head. You brush away the tears still on your face, your heart fluttering at the sweetness behind his action, "Me fine! Me not afraid! Me found you! You together me!"

Mr. Crawling takes a moment to understand your words, his smile returning as he giggles. His puts his hand back on top of your head, this time much more gentle as he pets you.

 

"Me glad! Eye water bad! Mouth happy! You ?????? !"

 

This time it's your turn to be caught off guard, your head tilting slightly in confusion as you try to translate his words.

Seeing your confusion, he repeats himself, this time gesturing with his hands to give you some help.

"Eye water-", he points his finger at your cheek, "bad!"

"Mouth happy," he points at his face, his grin stretching as he giggles again, "You ?????? !"

Is he... telling me to smile? 

Your eyebrows furrow at the unknown word as you try to replicate the sound, "??????..."

He nods vigorously, almost amused by your confusion.

You try your best to recall all your knowledge, it's been a while since you've heard a new word, but-.... wait a moment... no, this is not a new word, you've heard that sound before... but when was it?

Your eyes wander, looking down at your hands, now resting on your knees. Your new clothes catch your attention... of course! The Bride! You've heard that word when that kind ghost gave you these new clothes!

It was something that Mr. Crawling said in that occasion, but wasn't he talking about the dress that time...?

Your heart skips a beat as a thought crosses your mind, your eyes widening slightly.

 

No, that can't be the meaning... right? But... what if-

 

Your attention slowly returns on him, his expression almost gleeful as he watches you, waiting patiently for you to arrive at a conclusion.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry as your hand moves, pointing a single finger toward you, "Me..."

 

"...pretty?"

 

His delighted giggle is the only answer you need, "Mouth happy! You pretty! Pretty!"

Your can't help the blush that suddenly dusts your cheeks, the pure sweetness in his voice enough to make you feel butterflies in your stomach.

 

Wait- does that mean he's called you pretty before?!

 

As your face turns redder by the second, you're startled when you feel Mr. Crawling's cold hand against your cheek, "Face fire... why?"

You quickly grab his hand, pulling it away as your blush spreads further, "N-Nothing!!- I mean, No worry!!"

He tilts his head, beaming as he looks at you, his smile wide as he pats your head once more, "Me like face fire! You pretty!"

The moment you lean closer to hide your face in his chest, he wraps his arms around you, locking you in place. His laugh fills the silence, covering your voice as you sigh in both embarrassment and frustration.

He leans down, his cheek resting on top of your head as he pulls you closer, "Pretty! Pretty! ???? !"

You're not sure if you want to know the meaning behind that new word, or at least, you don't know if your heart is ready for it at the moment.

A few minutes pass as you let him shower you in affection, your heart finally calming down. You have to admit, he gives good hugs, even if his touch is cold.

You slowly pull away from him. He lets you, but you notice a hint of hesitation as his hands unwraps from you, but still resting on your shoulders.

Your eyes wander over to your crowbar, abandoned on the floor a few meters from you. You sigh, your mind finally at peace, "Maybe it's time for us to return to the others."

Mr. Crawling frowns, his grip on your shoulders tightening slightly, "You go?"

The look of disappointment on his face almost made your heart melt on the spot, your chest hurts at the thought of ending this precious moment between the two of you.

With a soft smile, you pull him closer once again, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mr. Crawling chirps in delight, his hand resuming his soft caresses on your head, making you laugh with him.

"I guess a few more minutes won't hurt."

[edgyedgelord]

hey yall i need help with getting back into the swing of things

as some of my latest posts mentioned, my computer of 5 years decided to die out on me

luckily my mom has a friend who does computer stuff and was kind enough to fix it up for me. issue is, it needs a new motherboard and the one it needs is $80 which is an amount thats gonna take us forever to save up on our own.

im kindly asking for some of yall to give generous donations or to commission me so we can get the motherboard and i can get back to work. i already have $8 sitting in my buy me a coffee but it wont let me send it to my bank until its at $10, i have $18, anything we can get is a huge help! we're gonna sell some of my moms paintings at the farmers market so hopefully thatll get us something too.

for commissions, since it may take a bit for my computer to have the new motherboard in on top of me catching up on my work, i'll be adding some free doodles or stickers with whatever you commission me for as thanks for your generosity and patience.

any extra money we get, if this post somehow blows up, will go towards helping us keep a roof over our head and food on the table.

STOP EVERYTHING IF YOU ARE LOOKING TO START AN INDIE PROJECT OR ARE ACTIVELY WORKING ON ONE AND NEED SOME MORE FOLKS ON YOUR TEAM!!!

Hi!!! I'm Alucard, creator behind the upcoming Creepypasta centered indie comic series Creepypasta Reheated, and a nerd who's been drawing and making silly characters and storylines for a decade now. I've taken a semester for an associates in studio arts but had to put that on pause due to financial struggles. But, despite this, I continued to study ahead and keep my skills sharp with self education in any way I can. All this to say, PLEASE HIRE ME!!!

Now more than ever I need some form of work to make even the smallest income so we can at least put bread and butter on the table. I've tried applying everywhere but had no luck on top of 50 other things going on in my life.

I'm experienced in organizing for projects, writing, and of course drawing of all sorts. I can help design settings, characters, the whole nine yards. My creative mind is on crack with how constantly I come up with new ideas, so it's rare that I ever have a shortage. If you need someone to help work on your project I BEG of you to give me a chance! As mentioned, I am expecting some sort of payment for what I contribute. Payment methods can be discussed if you do decide to bring me onto your team! I use Stripe to process payments as of right now but we can discuss an alternate method if need be.

Below are links to my stuff and examples of my work. If you like it and want to talk about hiring me then message me here on Tumblr!

[motherforthefamicom]

redownloaded an old art program

[zephyrchama]

(Obey Me! Belphegor and MC. The problem with naps.)

You were in trouble.

It had been several hours since you were able to move. Your legs were heavy, most likely numb. You wanted nothing more than to kick and stretch out your neglected muscles. The battery on your D.D.D. was running low.

Belphegor was deaf to the world, his nose buried in your naval with arms coiled around your waist. He was the world's clingiest lap blanket. Despite bending his knees, Belphegor's feet stuck out over the edge of the couch. You had tried fruitlessly over the hours to wake him, but things were getting dire.

You poked at his cheek. Slow and soft at first, but with increasing intensity until you reached a point where Leviathan himself would have recruited you for a button-mashing game.

"Belphie. Belphegor. Belphegor. Belphie. Belph. Belphegor. Hey!!"

You whacked his forehead with your D.D.D. There was no response. You sunk back into the couch cushions to create a bit of distance between your stomach and the demon's face. The next plan was to pinch his nose.

This was also futile. Belphegor clearly stopped inhaling and appeared fine, but such a length of time without breathing would cause brain damage in humans. It disturbed you. He was probably fine, being a demon and all. It was still concerning. You squeezed his nostrils until the excessive passage of time made you uncomfortable and let go. A couple of seconds went by before Belphegor breathed in with a loud snore. Any sense of relief was quickly and easily washed away by annoyance.

You groaned and leaned forward over the demon's head, placing your elbows on the edge of your knees to better cradle your face in your hands with despair. You balled your hands into fists, pressing them against your forehead, and let out a wail.

"Belphie, I'm begging you. Wake up."

Silence. You felt like you were going to explode.

"I have to pee."

You might as well have been talking to a large rock. The demon's weight on your lower stomach was not helping the situation. In an ideal world, you would have reached the bathroom over an hour ago. You leaned back once more and stared dismally at the sleeping figure in your lap. You were running out of options.

"Hear me, Denizens of Darkness. I am Master of Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Heed my call and do as I command. Get off of me!"

Wisps of magic curled up your arms, dancing across your neck and face. Its light made everything brighter. Traces of powerful energy - Belphegor's own energy - blew through your hair, whooshing past your ears. Belphegor was forcefully shifted into his demon form and rolled off the couch with all the grace of a baby chick learning to fly.

A deep rumble escaped his throat at the rude awakening. Belphegor lifted himself up in a daze. The fluff on his tail stood on edge as it swung turbulently from side to side. He clenched his jaw, barring his teeth menacingly. "What are you doing?"

You had already seized the chance to leap up. Only, your legs betrayed you. There was no strength to stand and you fumbled over onto Belphegor, colliding with his back. You both momentarily flailed on the ground.

"Explain yourself," he growled while you struggled to stand. Blips of magic were evaporating off your clothes, adding to the disorientation.

"Carry me!" you demanded. "That'll be faster, you've gotta carry me."

Even if you buckled your legs together to hold things in, you worried that wobbling down the hallway with jelly legs would be an impossible endeavor.

Belphegor looked at you the same way he would look at a diseased toad. With no context, he was wholly confused.

"I need the bathroom, now!" It was all you could think of. Magic started swirling at your wrists again as you began to chant, "Heed my words, in the name of the sorcerer..."

"Ok, ok! Wait!" Belphegor scrambled to his feet. He winced at the thought of being commanded again. His chest tightened, already afflicted by the start of your spell.

You had your knees locked together, digging your nails into your palm in a desperate attempt to hold your bladder in. It wasn't the best pose for being picked up. Belphegor did his best. He couldn't carry you in the elegant, suave manner he liked to dream about. Instead, he held you with both arms like an oversized bag of potatoes.

"Go, go, go!" Time was of the essence. He was slow to get a move on, so you beat on his shoulder with your fist. "This is all your fault!"

Belphegor blew a strand of hair out of his face. His expression was a sour frown. He was still cranky from being woken up. "Fine. Just hang on."

You don't get to see the demons use their abilities often. They like to play human in front of you. Unfortunately, with your head buried in Belphegor's hoodie and your mind occupied with other worries, you did not have the luxury to admire the way he bounded through the house with hardly perceptible speed. In just a few quick steps, not even five seconds later, you had arrived at your long-awaited destination.

You rolled out of Belphegor's arms and hastily slammed the door shut in the confused demon's face.

The Avatar of Sloth skulked across the hall to lean against the wall opposite the bathroom door. Now alone with his thoughts, he had ample time to get his mind in order and plan out exactly how to get revenge when you came back out.

[benvey0]

[triglycercule]

aaaaaah i love this so much,,,, granted i don't focus on the trio being w nightmare a lot (since the gang bad sanses thing IS NOT FOR ME!!! give me trio only or give me death) but QSAAAAAHHHH i love it so much when people play around with them in the bad sanses!!! i must say that the dynamic you described here where theyre like noooot that intimately close but also just like stick together because they gotta stick together with anyone that they can is PEAAAK (it's my favorite mtt in the bad sanses dynamic :3)

the trio truther in me says NOOOO to them breaking up afterwards but,,, the realist in me knows that they don't help each other They CANT help eachother (i always think about how even if they weren't in a bad situation they'd just stagnate each other or do worse,,, sadly these guys just cannot get better with each other. FIRST they have to love themselves (and deal with all their OTHER issues) before they can,,,, even mildly care for THEMSELVES???) (but maybe it'd kinda be like a service animal thing where by taking care of the pet you take care of yourself??? THIS IS A SEPERATE THING I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IN A DIFFERENT POST ACTUALLY NVM)

its so silly and funny that their way of "showing affection" is literally just them having eachothers backs,,,, ITS SO FUNNY TO ME,,,, AND SO CUTE TOO :333 for me personally i dont think they'd ever like. care enough,,,, about eachother to do stuff like taking the blame or just plain ol nights of comfort (they'd SLAUGHTER EACHOTHER before they ever decide to get cozy and fluffy in my head 💔💔) like with bad sanses esque killer i can get why killer would try to like,,, just BARELY keep dust and horror alive bc then nightmare gets what he wants or whatever but i just cant see either of the other 2 reviprocating the bare minimum of "affection" back (dust's grudge against killer would last until the earth's water evaporated and horror simply. would not have enough appreciation in his soul for that. probably wouldnt even get why killer's helping them smh.) PLUS they wouldn't be in a good enough mental space to even CONSIDER any sort of "affection" back with the whole ohhh shiiiit i got kidnapped and now have to do things I dont like!! + nightmare's aura preventing ANY sort of character development. horror n dust permanently keep waking up on the wrong side of the bed in the castle. killer is only immune because bro is just THAT numb (AND EITHER WAY EVEN IF THE TRIO WERE TAKEN OUT OF THE CASTLE DUST AND HORROR WOULDN'T JUST RANDOMLY BE 10X NICER,,, their capacity for niceness wouldn't go up just that the mood swings and pissiness would go down. and when the 2 arent like going through a manic burst or a furious moment theyre preeeetty damn apathetic and non caring. TO ME)

in a non bad sanses context for me i think it would be more interesting if they just like,,,, made comments to each other that are seemingly insignificant but are actually pretty insightful for the one being told so. because they might not have self reflection (because ohhh nooo pain hurty hurty being confronted with my wrongdoings SUCKS) but they have like. INVERSE self reflection on others. it could be the most barebones thing like horror saying that dust smells like shit after not showering due to lethargy and then that's a reminder to shower for him (sometimes that small reminder is all it takes want to do something youve been putting off) or like killer making an observation about how it's weird that horror doesn't eat that bunch and that he knows that people need to EAT to survive (it doesnt do much for horror since he's got that starvation mentality ENGRAINED in him but build that up and you've got a pretty nasty argument between horrorkiller. resulting in probably a nasty remark from killer about horror's ED that makes him want to start taking progress to recovery JUUUST to spite killer). and of course they probably have to take care of each other when one gets injured or nearly DIES because esuaghhh as much as they HATE to admit it theyve kinda gotten ever so slightly attached to the other 2,,, in killer's case it's intrigue but dont be fooled by s2's LIES (ok STAGE ONE gtfo of my brain dude. stage 2 is COOL)

and i DID in fact see that post you made about the "dust and horror trying to help killer with emotions or whatever and then killer feels emotions and goddamn it they HURT so now he's upset and angry at the 2 which alienates them even more" (but i forgot to uhhh like and reblog. my bad,,,,, i do that a lot with posts i like) and i do really Like That Headcanon A Normal Amount. totally normal amount and definitely not fawning over it ADHAGAHGHHHH i love it so much when they keep on pushing each other away and starting more and more conflicts between them. but they cant DO anything about it. in the gang where else would they go with nightmare crawling on their backs all the damn time??? and outside the gang theyre still too attatched to each other despite all of the intricacies of toxicity in their relationship (like a toxic relationship you can't help but keep on coming back to because it's comforting and you miss it and youre too attached even though it was bad because there were SOME good moments right? and in a life filled with sadness and anguish the small moments might be enough to keep them together)

anyways this is a lot. thank you for answering my ask :3333 i love hearing other people's ideas and interpretations on the mtt!!!! this entire reblog was just me being in denial of the trio splitting up with eachother though. erm

dear buubonita,

i'll keep it short and classy: opinions on the murder time trio??? i need to know EVERYTHING

that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow, triglycercule

Murder Time Trio is my favorite little trio, I used to throw Nightmare into the mix but I don't anymore because I still can't figure out how to integrate him in a way that I like.

Anyway, let's leave Nightmare aside.

I know that many love to think outside the box and put Killer in other groups, and I don't think that's bad at all, they're interesting to watch for a moment. But MTT is my favorite and I wouldn't change it for the world! I love the idea of ​​broken people trying to hold each other up, they need to hold on to something when all three of them are suffering constant stress and pain under Nightmare's tyranny. I love that they can connect through the pain. And their relationship is far from healthy, I'd say that breaking up afterwards is the best thing they can do if they manage to run away together.

Their form of affection is subtle gestures I think. Like Dust decides to redirect Nightmare's rage away from Killer himself when he thinks the man needs a little respite, or like when Horror drags the two of them into a safe space and they stay close to each other on the roughest of nights, or when Killer, who knows Nightmare best, gives the other two advice and warnings to handle themselves carefully around Nightmare. It's little things that try to make the situation a little less shitty, you know?But their relationship isn't perfect and there are moments of high tension that inevitably explode between them.

A friend and I thought about the idea of ​​Killer trying to understand his feelings a long time ago and how Dust and Horror try to help him figure it out only to trigger a stage jump that ends with Nightmare forcing Killer to regress to his stage 2 and with a little resentment towards the two of them for believing they did it on purpose. Or maybe Horror pushes the mental edge too much on Dust on a particularly bad day. Or Dust in a small psychotic outbreak ends up hurting Killer or Horror. These are things that can happen, their relationship is turbulent but they still try to find comfort between them within their possibilities.

I hope this satisfies your fever for them :3 i defo will talk more of them in the future.

[cyberbun]

Anon asking about whether or not angels can be maids the other day got me thinking and i dug out an angel design from my sketchbooks to explore this concept.

[tradingjack]

having fun with colors for once :P

thanks @creepycoffins for the awesome dtiys :D