#have you consumed any liquid today?

[meowuff]

…………………………………………what?

[wakeup01]

From Behind

(A horror themed butt growth story.)

Why do you keep doing this to yourself? It’s like you set yourself up for disaster. You are travelling home alone from a rather productive session at the gym. That is the good news, the bad news is you have just entered what is known as a run down area of town affectionately referred to as ‘The Crack’, everyone tends to avoid it if possible. There have been recent reports of missing people in the area too, but no one is very surprised, or seems to care. But today you were in a rush and despite your reservations, this was the quickest route back. At least, in theory.

Passing down a street of derelict warehouses you notice a side passage that appeared to lead down an alleyway. That was odd. You’ve been down here before, but had never noticed this back-alley before. Paths don’t tend to spring up out of thin air. You try and calculate where it should lead and come to the conclusion that it would let you save some time, maybe? Look, it’s extremely unlikely anything bad could happen within the minute it would take to make it through to the other side. Yes, that is what everyone says before things go horribly wrong but that was absolutely, definitely not going to happen here.

You step into a puddle that splashes an unidentifiable liquid up your bare leg. Mental note: never wear shorts in ‘The Crack’ again. Trash was piled up high on either side, it was obvious these buildings didn’t get a huge amount of use anymore. You always thought horror movies had done a real disservice to alleyways, but this one certainly wouldn’t be changing anyones mind. In the distance you see the silhouette of someone standing in the middle of the alley. From their stature it seems to be man, but something about them throws you off. You feel a pang of trepidation, a chill runs down your back. It’s only just occurred to you how deafly quiet the passage is, the sounds of the street feel like miles away. You turn around and the uneven pavement seems to impossibly stretch away from your feet. You hear a dull droning, fizzling just within your hearing range. Looking back and the man appears closer than before, you swear he hasn’t moved and yet…

“Uh hello?” You call out, to no response. Strange. But then, you see it. The most beautiful sight your eyes have been graced with. His butt.

Butt.

His grey joggers are having a hard time trying to contain what he’s packing, not that you’re complaining. It’s bigger than what you thought possible, it’s captivating. And now you’re just staring. Staring at another dudes gigantic butt in the middle of an alley, try not to overthink it. You see it jiggle just slightly and your eyes follow it’s repetitive movement hypnotically. What doesn’t occur to you is how your body is starting to….adjust. There’s a barely perceptible malicious force entering your form, you welcomed it in the second you laid eyes on the perfectly sculpted ass. Not a wholly bad trade off.

It wastes no time in making itself at home. Assessing the prey that wandered into it’s lair, before going to work on you.

The energy is gathering in your nethers, passing down your head and pulling through your torso. It seems to be taking something with it as your rear begins to heat up. You feel a light throb. It starts slow but soon increases in intensity. Your modest stature is being ‘enhanced’, your average ass cheeks piling on pounds as the rest of your body flattens out. Muscle and tissue is consumed, just food to bolster your hindquarters. All your body fat melts away until you have a tight slim chest. Your arms thinning out into effeminate twigs, hands slender. And through it all you continue to watch the rotund cheeks in front of you, not daring to take your eyes off them. Wouldn’t it be nice to have that too? Any sacrifice would be worth it, no? You want that, that -

Butt.

The thin polyester fabric of your shorts is pulled taut across your enlarging rear. Straining as it struggles to cage the hungry beast within it’s confines. Today was perhaps not the best day to decide on going without underwear. But lets be honest, underwear isn’t going to have much prominence in your future.

With your body adequately slimmed down, the insatiable parasitic-like force begins to target any identifying features you have left. It focuses on your head, a couple of twitches and it’s done. Nose itches, eyes water. It leaves your face with an uncanny quality, like it was unsettlingly sent though a algorithmic generator. It’s you, but an eerie idealised version of you. Plasticised perfection. Your skin is now unnaturally even, without a single speck or blemish. Anything that could distract from your main asset is smoothed clean. Absorbed by the mound of flesh expanding in your pants. There’s only one thing people should be paying attention to. That’s quickly becoming less of an issue. The inevitable missing poster they put up will only vaguely resemble you.

“Guh.” You hear yourself pant.

The low droning of the alleyway grows more prominent, pulsing rhythmically, akin to the low bass of a dance track. Your buttocks instinctually vibrate to the beat.

It’s increasingly hard to ignore the obvious changes happening to you. Your rotund behind is becoming so heavy. And while, yes, it is slightly concerning - can the issue wait just a little bit longer? You’ll deal with it later, after fully grasping the scope of this dude’s bountiful booty. For a second you wonder what the mans face looks like but then you think better of it. His face isn’t important, in the same way that yours isn’t.

You shift your feet apart, trying to balance out your rear heavy centre of gravity. The slight movement sends your round cheeks wobbling comically like a bowl of jelly. They bounce together, creating a wet slapping sound in your tight shorts. Your lower half is at risk of putting fuck toys out of business.

You’ve never had the word ‘butt’ enter your mind with such frequency in your entire life, it begins to loose all meaning. A collection of random letters.

Butt.

Are you perhaps forgetting something? That 4 letter word isn’t about to share a space with that bump between your legs. At some point you may have believed your cock was of some importance. All those times it had made you feel good, where for a second your concerns would fade from view. But things change. You are changing. Sometimes you have no choice but to embrace it. You start to feel a light tugging at your crotch. It’s slightly uncomfortable but there’s a pleasant tingle too. You reach down and feel it’s length diminish within your hand, sucked up like a vacuum by your ever thickening arse. It doesn’t stop until a mere nub protrudes from your groin. It dribbles the smallest amount of pre down your leg and spreads across the cracked concrete of the alley. No amount of stimulation is going to produce much down there. Your pleasure centre realigns a little further back. A deep itch that requires constant attention. A cock is something that other people have, you instead have an open socket for them to plug into.

Your shapely bum must almost rival that of the one your eyes are glued to. Not much further to go. Other people will stare at yours in the same way. You didn’t know you were so jealous of it but who wouldn’t want THAT?

You’re not sure how long you’ve been watching his rear end, or how long you plan to continue doing so. No better ideas come to mind right now. That might be because with your body and cock sucked dry, your brain is the next best source of fuel. So much useless power being used up there, where it can serve a much better purpose. It’s like a battery being drained, squeezed right into your juicy fat ass. Churned away just to add another inch of thickness.

You don’t think you really want this to happen, maybe you’re big enough back there? But what you want and what it wants are two very different things. Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t appear to be up for debate.

If you round up all those little idiosyncrasies of your personality, you might even squeeze another few millimetres into your hips. There’s only one thing around here with much substance anymore, and it certainly isn’t your brain. You can admit it, not much of value has been lost. It’s not like you were getting around to solving world hunger. At least now you have the opportunity to solve a different kind of hunger.

Your thoughts provided a decent amount of sustenance as they were sucked out of your brain through a figurative straw. You feel the benefit push out. Your hips flaring out instantaneously while your globes inflate to the size of footballs. With your brain emptied out of anything complex, thoughts and instructions to your body start to arrive from the new master of the domain. Neurones rewired, your butt was now command central, your head was just the go between, mostly irrelevant. Simple instructions and desires like ‘bend’, ‘twerk’ and ‘facesit’ overwhelm you. But -butt- right now the main one was ‘stare’; you weren’t done yet after all.

Your cheeks moisten as they rub together, their new sensitivity firing bolts up your spine. Your shorts grow damp as the leaking fluid soaks into the polyester and clings tightly to your skin. It only helps to make your arse seem bigger, the fabric bunching up between your crack, creating a noticeable crease down the centre that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Once again you feel your ass throb and shudder, each jiggle pushing it just a little bit further from your body. Just when you think you couldn’t get any bigger back there, it keeps going, inflating to cartoonish proportions. Sticking out like a depraved shelf. Your waist thins out and your hips expand to accommodate your new form. Women would be jealous of what you’re packing, and men will be queuing up to test it’s suspension.

It’s okay to smile. Happy people smile. Aren’t you happy? You must be, everything else in your head was consumed. The entity did you a favour in that regard. Think of the words ‘bouncing booty’. Go on, give it a try.

Your lip quivers in a last ditch effort of restraint. Don’t let ‘it’ win. The defiance is vaguely amusing in a pitiful way but your face muscles start to give way. Your mouth stretches wide into a broad, earnest grin. The most sincere display of joy you’ve ever shown, who cares if it makes you look ‘dumb’? It doesn’t bother you at all that people can take one look at you and accurately guess, that not a single word of value will exit your mouth. Dumb people are happy. Why worry? You had different priorities now. You can feel safe knowing that your most prominent feature is taking the lead, that it knows what’s best for you. Give it the keys and good things are bound to happen.

See, and doesn’t smiling feel good? Doesn’t it feel right to smile as your hole is used like a cum receptacle? Or when your cheeks are surrounding a mans face? People don’t want to see their toy sad.

A lone giggle falls out between your pursed lips.

You reach back around and place your hands on your two buttocks, your palm is dwarfed in size. It no longer stretches across its surface. Like palming a basketball. You can feel it push against your fingers with immense pressure as it expands within your grasp. Just another centimetre, and another. It’s curvature widens, expanding out from your hips. You press your finger into the skin and rub. The surface is completely smooth and the texture has a slight friction to it, creating a light satisfying sqk. No one for a second will believe that it’s real, it’s obvious fake-ness is by design. Authenticity is so overrated, nothing real would bounce so tightly back to position, would shine so brightly in the light. Would be able to withstand so much pounding… People don’t actually want real, they want a fetish image come to life, they want no maintenance, no downsides. They want someone to just nod and agree while they fuck them without concern; they want a rubber butt like yours. You’re not about to question it, and neither will anyone else.

They won’t question it while they undress you, or while they find relief inside of you, or even when their own butt begins to expand. And still, when they are reduced to just another butt boy, they won’t question it.

Butt.

That’s right, you’re a carrier. You have been entrusted with a important task, to leave a string of giant asses in your wake. You need to spread it, like a computer virus. Once they ‘plug in’ there’s no going back. Whoever they were, they’ll all end up the same.

You are finished. Your glutes tighten into place. And your hole opens for frequent visitors. Stretching wide as if it had just been treated to a rigorous fuck machine session. You’re just a butt with a body attached. It’s how you view yourself, above all is tending to the needs of your ever hungry rear. The rest of your body is just a mode of transport, a means to an end. A rear end.

It feels like you’ve stood here for hours, but in reality it’s been no more than a minute. A minute was all it took for you to be repurposed as a literal butt boy. A mere sixty seconds for all your thoughts to be hollowed out; maybe you weren’t as smart as you thought, or maybe you secretly wanted this all along. Either way your head is now just a pretty picture to smile at before spinning you around.

The space in your head is about as empty as the hole between your pillowy cheeks, although only one has any hope of being filled up.

“Butt!” You hear yourself blurt out, like a child saying a naughty word. The sound echos down the dank alley.

Suddenly the butt opposite you turns away, his legs moving him towards you. A wordless instruction reaches your body to kneel and so you do, obediently. He turns back away, his beautiful ass only a few inches apart from your face. His joggers lower and his prize springs forth from it’s prison. He slowly backs his cheeks into your face until they eclipse your entire view. He continues until your head is pushed between his round globes with a blomf, encasing you, muffling the sound in your ears. There’s a mild tingle across your forehead/face.

You feel the pressure push against your sides. It makes sure your head is an appropriately vacuous vessel, squeezing out anything left. That little remnant that didn’t want to be butt brained drips away in no time, turned to drool and absorbed into the guys ass crack. This would be good for you; You needed to be made perfect, so you let the butt finish it’s work. A new set of instructions flow into you, into your ass. You feel your consciousness connect to the butt burying your face, assimilating and adding you as one of it’s own, making you part of something bigger. One of many.

The pressure on your head leaves your emptied mind subservient to the mass of tissue straining under you. It gives you a new identity.

I gave you a new identity.

BUTT BOY.

And you’re now ready for service. Butt. Boy. Ready to spread joy. To put it in the nicest way possible, you have a butt for a brain. It has been given full control, and it has one singular goal. You need to make more Butt Boys. It is that simple. It’s not a desire, it’s just something you have to do.

The cheeks spread open again and are unseated from your encased head, your broad smile still unflinching.

Something else is different though. A cold breeze brushes over your forehead. The hair on your head is nothing but a light dusting of what was there before, at most 1mm in length. It was one less thing to worry about, and one less thing to identify you with. It’s unsettling how much of your personality seemed to be stripped with it gone. The buzzed look certainly makes you appear more anonymous. Like a default custom character in a video game. Nothing made you stand out… well, aside from the obvious.

The ass in front of you is satisfied with your ‘adjustment’ and leads it’s body from the spot it once stood so patiently in. You continue to stare as the buttocks juggle erratically in the grey joggers as they leave the alleyway.

Your feet begin to move of their own volition. Movement is awkward, each step your balance is pulling you backward. You’re like a dumptruck trying to make a tight turn.

You are left in silence, aside from the clapping of your bouncy cheeks as you stumble forward to replace the previous occupant. You stand in the exact same spot, thighs pushed together, back straight. Now it is your turn to wait - like an animal for it’s prey, knowing that you cannot leave until you have passed on the gift to another man; ensuring that the cycle continues. The idea of causing someone else to go through the same process fills you with such pride.

It’s unclear how long you stand there, time in the alley doesn’t appear to operate within normal parameters. Like a crack in the world. You see your shadow projected onto a nearby wall, a straight line interrupted by an obscene vibrating speed bump. Doorframes could be your new biggest enemy.

You were desperate to see your reflection, from behind obviously. Most people take selfies of their face, the subject of your attention would be much further down.

You hear a voice echo from behind.

“Excuse me sir.”

One week later:

“Man, how much work did you have done on this, femboy? Unff. You make even my girlfriend look flat.” A towering voice booms down at you.

You’d picked up the jock in a club. He was relatively easy, it didn’t take much to end up back at his place. You stared at him with that horny, open mouthed duck face. But he wasn’t interested in what you had going on up there. It was remarkable how little men cared about how flagrantly airheaded you were once you flash your rear at them. It didn’t matter how ‘plastic’ or fake you so obviously were. The eye see’s what it wants.

He was clearly in the mood to let off steam, and one look of what you had on offer was all it took. You didn’t even need to say anything, which was good, as words were so hard to get right. For tonight, you were his; a light tap of your butt and he owned your body. A breathy ‘mhm’ confirming your obedience to him and his sizeable bulge. Your ass begins to moisten in preparation - it wanted him, in more ways than one.

He had told you his name, but you already forgot it; he soon would too. ‘Jocky’ was good enough for now.

Jocky was obnoxious in all the right ways, wearing his masculinity on his sleeve. That type made for the best, most severe adjustment.

“Love the buzzcut by the way femmy. Yeah…mhm. Very basic, it suits you.” He rubs a hand over the top of your head before running his fingers through his curly hair. It was a good thing he already liked the look.

*plap plap*

The strong man’s 7 inch cock thrusts in and out of your well used hole, pulling between your lubricated cheeks. Your buttocks squished against his member tightly, every bump rubbing across your hypersensitive skin. You were so hungry. He wasn’t the longest but he definitely had thickness on his side. You pant heavily as he has his way with you. Bent over his bed, facing away from him at a wall. He wasn’t as good at this as he thought, you would know, but it wouldn’t matter for long.

“Mmf. You’re a quiet one. Ah… I- I like that in a bottom. Makes a nice change from…hff. Always whining. Know your place. Fuck.” He continues to drunkenly rant into your ear. His deep, self-aggrandising voice quickly grating on you.

“Uuh. Take it all dumb slut.” You let him have his petty insults, it seemed to make him feel bigger, more in control. Evidently, he was obviously very self obsessed, dumb as you may be, even you could tell that much. The constant glances at his own muscles were enough of a giveaway. Eh. You’d seen better; the change will be a improvement.

He speeds up, sending shockwaves up your body and making your butt bounce enthusiastically.

“H…hey it’s real hot in here.” His voice shakes. “Umf. Maybe we should stop?” He puts his hand on your hip in an attempt to steady himself as he continues pumping you. You begin to push back into him, his dick pushing all the way in.

“Wh… what the fuck. My ass feels…mmm.” He groans loudly. You know how it feels. You can hear them rubbing together already.

His grip on your back weakens, the weight crashing into you softens. His body is like a deflating balloon, his diminishing height bringing him closer to the floor. The girth inside of you shrinks.

“Ahh. So heavy…damn. My-“

“Butt.” You tell him. A slight hint of boredom in your tone.

“Oh god, why does my head… so hard to think.” Right on cue, his smarts were being cleared out, in preparation for his ass to take over thinking duties. This part was your favourite; it wasn’t fair he had all that stuff while you felt so…blank. “Feels so good. Unnf.” It was too late for him to stop it, he’d soon be very happy. Happy, eager and ready to comply. “Shouldn’t though…” You take the lead, rocking back and forth along what’s left of his dwindling shaft. Your buttocks slap against his tightened chest.

*plap plap*

“Bouncy…hehe.” He laughs dimly. You can’t help but echo his giggle, it WAS a funny word. One of your favourites - top 5 at least, right after ‘jiggle’.

“Don’t wanna…fuck…b…but I can’t…but…but.” He stutters, like a scratched record.

“B…bu…Butt. Buuuutt.” His voice moans in realisation, mumbling the word over and over to himself. He shudders, squirting inside of you. It’s okay. It’s never enough to satisfy you.

His tiny cock slips out of your hole, dragging a small string of cum across your sensitive rear. That familiar feeling of emptiness sets back in. You get out from under him and assess your work. Turning to face him, you’re greeted by his broad smile and blank, lust-filled stare. His jockish face and body now heavily twinkified; those boorish muscles, gone. His cocky attitude, subdued. The bed creaks. You check on his oversized ass splayed beneath him, a rather drastic change from his previously flat posterior. Looking even more ridiculous with his shortened stature. The slight rubbery sheen was the cherry on top. Those plastic beach balls were made to twerk and put on a show. A vast improvement, he seems pleased by it too. His left hand is loosely fondling his new selling point.

“O…ohh.” A surprised squeak slips out from his mouth. It’s always a shock when they see where everything has gone.

You’re pretty sure he didn’t have much experience back there, if any at all. He’ll soon get the hang of it.

You know what comes next, what’s required of you - it’s instinctual at this point. You push him onto the bed and position yourself on top of him. You gradually begin to lower your huge rear over his head. You sit snugly down on his blushing face, shifting your weight a bit to get into a comfortable position. His gelled hair tickles against your skin, until it doesn’t…

He’ll make a cute Butt Boy.

[morikosa]

REMORSE

SUMMARY: He doesn't realize how valuable you are until he loses you.

Things could have been different. If he had stayed home, you would still be alive. You would still be alive…

''My love… p-please don’t go''

Gojo froze in his tracks, feeling your delicate arms wrap around his waist from behind. Despite himself, a small flicker of surprise coursed through him, momentarily halting his steps towards the door. Your trembling voice reached his ears, filled with desperation and a plea for him to stay.

"I-I will prepare a dinner for you, my love… p-please don’t go,” you whispered, your lips pressing softly against his back in a tender kiss.

For a brief moment, the gentle touch and your plea tugged at a minuscule fragment of buried empathy within him. However, he quickly squashed that flicker of compassion.

He twisted his body to face you, his expression turning cold and unyielding once again under his blindfold. He roughly pushed your arms away from his waist, forcing you to release her grip on him. The action was swift and unforgiving.

“Your feeble attempts to keep me won’t work, y/n.” he spat, his voice laced with cruel indifference. “I have no use for your pitiful displays of affection. I am leaving.”

He turned away from you, resolute in his decision. He regretted his words at the moment he saw the pain and sadness in your eyes. But he couldn’t show it, he couldn’t show any sign of weakness.

After all, he was the strongest

With a last glance, he walked towards the door and left you. As he crossed the threshold, his heart remained hardened, untouched by the anguish he left behind. 

...

He was a terrible husband. He didn’t pay any attention to you. But he wanted to change that, so he bought you a bouquet to make it up to you, and today he was going to take you out to dinner. He was going to fix everything, you were going to be happy together.

“My sweet wifey~, I thought we could have dinner today, husband and wife–”

Upon entering the house, Gojo was met with an eerie silence that sent a chill down his spine. The door wide open, the lights on – everything seemed off. As he stepped further inside, his heart raced, confusion clouding his thoughts. The scent of carnage enveloped him, the heavy air thick with tension.

Then he found you.

Lying lifeless on the floor, your limbs twitching slightly as the waning moments of your life escaped from you. Blood pooled beneath you, the crimson liquid staining the once pristine floors with its haunting presence. A profound sorrow washed over him, accompanied by a wave of guilt – a bitter taste in his mouth.

The flowers he had intended to apologize with dropped from his grasp, the vibrant colors now tainted by the horrifying scene unfolding before his eyes. He watched in horror as you struggled for your last breaths, your fragile body betrayed by the curse that sought to end her life.

The irreversibility of the situation dawned on him at that moment - her fate was already sealed, your time running thin. Tears welled up in his eyes as realizations flooded his mind; regrets of his callous behavior, anger, and neglect came racing back and consumed his conscience.

If only he had stayed... if only he had paid attention.

Gojo fell to his knees beside you, reaching out tentatively to steady her limp form. “Y/N. Stay with me,” he pleaded, a foreign word in his vocabulary. “Please, don’t go.” His tears fell in torrents, landing beside hers on the muddied ground.

“Who. Who did this to you-”

His hands shook as he cradled you close, your warm breath steadily fading in his embrace. The pain of losing you was like a dagger piercing his heart, a relentless torture he could never escape.

What was the point? What was the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t even protect his wife?

At present

Gojo stands before your grave, a solemn figure with his head bowed low. The air holds a heavy silence, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze caresses the surrounding trees. The weight of his loss rests heavily upon his shoulders, his heart burdened with a mix of grief and regret.

“Hey, it’s me again,” he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion as he addresses the earth beneath him. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I wanted to let you know… I’m doing my best, even though it feels impossible without you here.”

His fingers trace the engraved letters of your name on the tombstone, his touch both reverent and pained. Memories of your time together flood his mind, each a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. The weight of his remorse for not cherishing those moments to their fullest becomes evident in how his shoulders slump and his breath hitches.

“I miss you, more than words can express,” he admits, his voice breaking with raw vulnerability. “I wish I had realized sooner what you truly meant to me. I wish I had been a better husband and person for you… worthy of the love you had for me.”

His grip tightens on the flowers he brought, his knuckles turning white. He places them gently upon your grave, his gaze lingering upon the fading petals.

Tears glisten in his mismatched eyes, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “I love you, and I always will. I’m sorry I realized this so late. Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace. And just know… you’ll forever have a place in my heart.”

With a final, lingering look at your tombstone, he puts the bouquet on your tombstone and turns away.

He will live a lifetime with the pain of ruining the perfect future he could have had with you.

[aventurineswife]

(Original Idea)

@smokess

It’s been a few weeks since you first arrived in the Devildom. You’ve already made your way through a few of the rougher patches: learning the magic laws, getting used to demon food, and navigating the maze that is the House of Lamentation. But there are still moments when things catch you completely off guard, and today happens to be one of them.

You’ve just been called to the dining room for breakfast, but as you walk in, your thoughts are still buzzing from yesterday’s events. You’re trying to put together how you ended up in this bizarre world full of demons with their own customs, traditions, and... strange ways of doing things.

As you sit down, the brothers—Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, and Beel—are already seated, along with Diavolo and Barbatos, who were visiting from the palace. The atmosphere is relaxed, almost too relaxed. They’re chatting, mostly about the latest human technology (Mammon is in a heated debate with Levi over the newest video game release) and general happenings in the Devildom.

But then, as you reach for your plate, your body betrays you.

You start sneezing, repeatedly. It’s not that unusual for you—back on Earth, you’ve had bad allergies before, especially in the spring. But here? You didn’t realize that it was possible for pollen from another dimension to mess with your system.

"Huh, bless you, I suppose." Lucifer comments, his tone a bit dry. He raises an eyebrow as you snatch a napkin and try to muffle another series of sneezes.

"Are you okay?" Beel asks, his voice sincere, though it’s impossible to ignore that he's already eyeing the plate of food in front of you, the steam rising from it. He’s always hungry, always concerned about food, and while you’re trying to focus on the allergy attack, his concern doesn’t help.

"I-I think it’s just my allergies," you manage to choke out between sneezes, your hand scrambling to find something to wipe your nose with.

Barbatos, ever the composed butler, immediately gets up and makes his way over to you with a tray of what looks like...some kind of odd, green liquid in a cup.

"Please drink this, MC. It should help soothe your reaction. We have a lot of unique flora in the Devildom, and they can affect humans in different ways."

You eye the drink with a mixture of suspicion and gratitude. At this point, you don’t really have any other choice.

“What... what’s in this?” you ask, sniffing it carefully.

“It’s a blend of herbs from the underworld,” Barbatos says with a calm smile. “Completely harmless. It should help with your symptoms. But you might want to avoid consuming anything too exotic until your body gets used to the local flora.”

You take a cautious sip. Surprisingly, the liquid doesn’t taste too bad, and within moments, your sneezing fits subside.

"Thanks, Barbatos," you say, giving him a grateful smile, but you're still mentally processing the fact that you might have to get used to demon herbs now.

“So, MC,” Diavolo begins, his voice loud and friendly as always, his large frame leaning toward you with genuine interest, “I wanted to ask, what kind of... ‘treatments’ do humans undergo back home?”

The question catches you off guard. You look around, noticing the brothers are now all paying attention—Diavolo's curiosity seems to have sparked a sudden group interest.

“Treatments?” you ask, hoping you understand the question right.

“You know, for things like... well, if you get sick, or need vaccinations?” Diavolo gestures, his enthusiasm barely contained. “It’s always interesting to hear how humans take care of themselves!”

You blink, processing the concept of vaccines. You realize that in the Devildom, none of these demons are likely familiar with things like flu shots or allergy medication... or even common human ailments like cold and flu. It’s a foreign concept here.

“Uh, well, humans get vaccinated—shots, you know, to prevent diseases? We also go to the doctor for stuff like fevers or injuries.” you say slowly, unsure if they understand what you're saying.

The room goes quiet. Then, unexpectedly, Mammon snickers.

"Wait, so ya all just get stuck with needles?" he asks, looking at you with wide, alarmed eyes. "Why would ya let someone do that to ya? Sounds like torture!"

You let out a small laugh, trying to explain it in a way they'd understand. "It’s for our protection. Without vaccines, we could get really sick from things we can easily avoid."

The demons all exchange looks of utter confusion. Satan looks thoughtful, though, his hand resting under his chin. “That’s... fascinating. So you just... accept being injected with something? No magical potions or healing spells?”

“Nope,” you answer, shaking your head. “Just medicine and stuff we get from the Earth. No magic involved.”

Diavolo claps his hands together in an amused gesture. “How strange! I wonder if that would work in the Devildom... Barbatos, what do you think?”

Barbatos, ever the pragmatic butler, raises an eyebrow. “I’m not entirely sure, My Lord. But I believe it would require a rather significant amount of effort. Perhaps we should stick to what we know works.”

You chuckle nervously, trying not to feel too alien. It’s weird being the only one who understands what vaccines even are, let alone periods, or allergies...

The conversation shifts after a while to other aspects of human life, which you’re not exactly prepared for. After some time, the talk turns to... well, other human customs—especially biological ones.

"So... do humans have... um... I don't know how to say this," Asmo starts, clearly not sure how to word it delicately. "Do humans, uh, have... ‘monthly’... discomforts?”

You freeze mid-bite, the word monthly hanging in the air like an uncomfortable weight. You’ve always been pretty private about your cycle, especially now that you’re in a room full of demons who probably know nothing about it.

“I, uh... it’s called a period,” you mutter, hoping the subject won’t get too awkward.

"A period?" Satan asks, leaning forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "Like... punctuation?"

“No!” you exclaim, mortified. "I mean... it’s a human thing. A... biological process." You sigh, trying to explain without sounding too embarrassed. "It’s a monthly occurrence where... my body, um, prepares for something it doesn’t need. So, it... uh... sheds the lining in the uterus."

The demons stare at you blankly. Even Lucifer, usually composed, looks momentarily baffled.

“And that... happens to you... every month?” Levi asks, horrified. “How do you... I mean, that sounds awful!”

You nod. "It can be uncomfortable. It’s like a... natural part of being human."

Barbatos, ever the tactful one, steps in smoothly, his voice calm. “It seems humans have a great deal to manage in their biology. Fascinating.”

“Right? And we’re just expected to deal with it,” you add, still feeling embarrassed but relieved that they’re not asking too many more questions.

Later, the conversation veers into a discussion about where you came from, your homeland, and your nationality. It’s a tricky subject, especially since most of these demons have never even heard of your country, let alone your hometown.

“So, you’re from Earth, right?” Lucifer asks, tapping his fingers on the table, as if contemplating the situation. “But Earth is so vast. How do you classify your people?”

You pause, unsure how to approach it. “Well, there are countries, and people belong to different nations. I come from a country called...”

The name of your country seems to hang in the air, but as you mention it, the demons exchange confused looks. They’ve never heard of it.

“Wait, so what’s that country like?” Mammon asks, genuinely curious. “What’s ya... currency? What’s the most popular food?”

You try your best to explain, but each question leads to another, and soon you realize how very, very different Earth is from the Devildom.

But as weird and overwhelming as this all is, you realize that these moments of confusion and surprise are part of what makes your time here so unique. The demons may not understand everything about you, but they're clearly invested in learning—whether it’s how to handle your allergies or what a "period" is.

And really, at the end of the day, it's that curiosity and willingness to understand each other that makes the Devildom feel a little more like home every day.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

in my head - m.s.

part two of avery’s playlist series

pairing: reader x matt sturniolo

cw: alcohol, smut (unprotected sex, f!receiving oral, fingering), explicit language

wc: 6k

in my head, i see you all over me

in my head, you fulfill my fantasy

It was like a sixth sense, really, the way you could feel when anybody was staring at you when you weren’t looking. It was something you’d always had a feeling for since you were young, like any time a pair of eyes landed on you, you could feel it burning into your skin.

It was also something you had learned to ignore when you were around your friends, always feeling a constant stare when your head was turned, blue eyes unable to tear themselves away from your frame. You were used to it at this point, the way he looked over at you any chance he got. You were also used to him refusing to admit that he was looking at you, no matter how many times you caught him staring, he’d always deny it, say he was just spaced out or looking past you. You never believed him.

Today was no different, even in the crowded house with music blaring and your mind fuzzy from the alcohol you’d consumed, you could still feel Matt staring at you from where he was leaned against the wall, a fruity seltzer held in his hand as he peered your way. The two of you have been friends for years, but lately it felt like you’ve drifted apart due to how weird he’s gotten around you, and now when you came over, you mostly just talked to his brothers, Nick and Chris, since Matt had always excused himself after you caught him staring.

Matt was always a little bit odd, but he’d gotten more so over the last few months, and you’d gotten sick of trying to reel him back in, finally just deciding to let him pull away from the friendship if that’s what he really wanted.

Alcohol had always made you a little bit bolder, though, and today was no exception, so when you caught Matt’s eye across the room and he actually held your gaze, you couldn’t help yourself from marching over until you were right in front of him, your eyes determined as you approached him. He kept his eyes locked on you, an almost amused smirk playing on his lips at your attempt to be serious.

“Matt,” you start sternly, crossing your arms once you’re in front of him. He’s thoroughly enjoying the way you try to act bigger than you are, though he can tell by the glazed over look in your eyes that it wasn’t raw confidence that had you running up on him, but more of a liquid courage influence. He didn’t mind, in fact, he thought it was amusing. He stays silent, only raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his can, waiting for you to continue. “We need to talk.”

Matt finishes his drink and sets it down on a nearby table before crossing his arms to match your stance, chest puffing out as his eyes narrowed. “About what?” He inquires, head tilting like a dog.

You weren’t deterred by his attempts to be dominating, though. “About your fucking staring problem.”

He raises an eyebrow like he’s at a complete loss. “What staring problem?”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief. “You think I don’t see you staring at me all the time? I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head!”

Matt is fully smirking at you now, his expression teasing. “I never stare at you. I look at you sometimes, like now when you’re talking, but I’m never staring at you.”

The distinct presence of alcohol makes your eyes feel heavy and your brain moves slower, only able to process his words a few seconds after he said them, but you refused to be gaslit into thinking that you were wrong, that you didn’t see what you know you saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say loudly, reaching up to point a finger in his face. “You can’t take advantage of me just because I’m drunk.”

The next words that he said are what really throw you off guard, to the point where you almost blamed the alcohol for it, and if you were even one drink further into your night you would’ve, but your comprehension levels were still sharp enough to catch the weight of his words as he leans in close to your ear.

“If I wanted to take advantage of you while you were drunk, lying isn’t the way I’d do it.”

It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, like an unspoken boundary had been crossed and you had no idea how to react to it. Except your mouth moved faster than your brain, and you spoke before you could even think to stop yourself.

“What?!” You shriek, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?!”

Matt rolls his eyes at your volume before he swiftly forces your body in the other direction with his hands and swings an arm over your shoulder. “It means we need to get some water in you.”

You’re offended at his suggestion, scoffing loudly as he led you into the kitchen, keeping a strong grip on you. “I am not that drunk, Matt. Could pass a sobriety test with ease.”

“You’re drunk enough to get confrontational, that’s how I know you need to slow down,” Matt retorts, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the counter and handing it to you.

You want to refuse, to shake your head and push his hand away, but when you turn your head to look up at him, the room spins a little bit, and you know it’s probably for the better that you have some water. Once you do grab it from his hands, you drank almost half of the bottle in one go before handing it back to Matt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, happy now?” You sass.

Matt sets the bottle down on the counter, his other arm still swung over your shoulders. “Sure, now go dance with Nick or something,” he comments, nodding his head in his brother’s direction.

Your confrontational behavior hasn’t dissipated, though, in fact it only feels spurred on by the way Matt is staring down at you, like it’s funny the way you tried to talk to him, like he thinks your attempts at calling him out are adorable. It’s not adorable, you’re serious, and the fact that he doesn’t think you are has you heating up all over again.

In a quick motion, you grab his hand from your shoulder and start walking away, your grip on him tight as you drag him through the crowds of people and into his room. With all the strength you can muster, you pull him in through the doorway and push him in front of you, slamming the door after you’re both in the room.

“I am done dealing with you staring at me all the time and acting like you’re not!” You snap loudly at him, arms crossing over your chest once again. “I may be drunk and confrontational, but you’re drunk, too, so let’s just get this conversation over with so we can go back to being like we were before.”

Matt rolls his eyes at you, huffing like a child. “I’m not as drunk as you,” is all he says.

“Oh, please, like you weren’t just leaning up against the wall out there, or using your arm around me to keep your balance.” You point a finger at him accusatorially. “You’re leaning on your desk right now!”

“Yeah, because my ankle hurts,” Matt shrugged it off, but the way his eyes closed as he spoke made it all the more obvious what the truth was.

By the time his eyes reopen, you’ve marched over to him, your bodies only a couple feet apart now. “Enough. Stop fucking staring all the time or tell me why you do it.” You demand.

He’s getting frustrated again, and you can see it in the way he sucks in a deep breath, like he’s trying to stop himself from getting angry, or maybe he’s trying to stop himself from telling you the truth, trying to fight against the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream. He’s close to cracking, and all you need to do is push a little harder.

“Did I do something to make you mad? You barely talk to me anymore, and every time you do it’s like someone’s twisting your arm behind your back to do it.” Your voice is a bit quieter now, back to a normal speaking volume with a hint of sadness seeping in. “I used to be the closest to you and now it’s a chore to even get you to talk to me.”

Matt groans and leans his head back on his shoulders for a moment before picking it back up and meeting your gaze again. “You didn’t make me mad,” he replies.

“Then what?!” You push, hands flopping to your sides in annoyance. “Why are you so weird now?! You never talk to me, you’re always fucking looking at me and pretending you’re not, you’re always trying to avoid being in the same room as me alone and I am so fucking sick of-“

“What do you want me to say?!” Matt interrupts loudly, pushing himself off the desk and one step closer to you. Your eyes widen in shock as the distance starts to close between you, not expecting him to be so loud. Though the next words out of his mouth had your mind reeling and wondering if maybe you both were a little too intoxicated to be having this conversation. But maybe it was perfect.

“Do you want me to say that every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how much better you’d look underneath me? On top of me?” He starts lowly, taking another step closer. “Do you want me to say that I get carried away looking at you because I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to you? That I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you feel good and hear your pretty voice moaning my name?”

Your heart feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you listen to him, pounding away and making your hands shaky, adrenaline running through you at his admission. It was the last thing you expected him to say, a confession of desire, the words ripping all of the air from your lungs.

You’re brought back when the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall backwards on it, hands catching you and resting behind you. The switch in angle has you staring upwards at Matt, the man that was your best friend, lashes fluttering as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening at the sight of you.

“Matt…” you whisper, shaking your head, unsure of what to say.

“You feel fucking stupid pushing so hard now, don’t you?” Matt sneers, leaning over so he’s hovering above you, faces inches apart. “Should’ve just left it the fuck alone.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore your nerves and the way the hair on your arms was standing straight up, goosebumps forming from how close he was to you.

“I don’t feel stupid,” you say quietly, pausing for a moment as you stare into his eyes, taking in his expression. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s angry, but you know it’s his way of trying to hide the way he really feels; scared of how you feel. His eyes are searching yours for any sign of feeling the same, like he’s desperate for any sense of reciprocation. His chest is heaving as he leans over you, trying to breathe through the way his heart was racing, willing it to slow down in vain. You take a deep breath yourself, readying yourself for the shift.

“Just wish you told me sooner.”

Your hand comes up to grab onto his shirt to pull him in, closing the distance between you both, lips crashing together. He loses his balance when you pull him down, hands stopping himself on either side of you when he pushes you down flat on the bed, kissing you back like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

His lips are molded to yours perfectly, only parting to let his tongue slip into your mouth and meet your own, tasting the drink he finished right as you walked up to him. His left arm shifted so he was resting on his elbow next to your head, right hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers splayed out in your hair as he used his grip to keep you close to him.

Even though you initiated the kiss, you’re still taken aback at how desperate his movements are, taking a moment to collect yourself and kiss him back just as enthusiastically, right hand keeping its grip in his shirt while your other one comes up to mirror his, tangling in his hair.

“Matt,” you gasp in between kisses, whining softly when his lips trail over your cheek and down your neck, leaving soft but hungry kisses across your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, teeth nipping softly before he continues his descent, pushing your shirt up until it’s bunched under your arms, moving his lips between the valley of your breasts. “You look so fucking good tonight, was like torture watching you walk around like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off.”

The giggle you let out is breathless, a mix of laughter and a whine, head tilted down as you watch him as he kisses down your stomach, hands moving to slide down your waist, gripping your hips when he reaches them. “You can take my clothes off if you want to,” you say nervously. His attention is immediately drawn back to your face, movements pausing at your words. “Yeah?” He rasps, voice low and quiet.

You nod, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he slides down your body and onto his knees between your legs, hands rubbing over your thighs. Your bottom half was adorned in a black mini skirt that already started riding up from the way he settled between your legs, your thong peeking out from underneath it, clinging to your skin from the way you were already getting soaked.

“This skirt looks so fucking good on you,” Matt praises, slipping off the end of the bed until he was on his knees, pulling you closer towards the edge until his face was only a few inches above your core. “Wondering why I’m looking at you when this shit barely covers your ass.”

“I wore it for you,” you admit shyly, watching as his hands slid up and down your skin, fingers gripping into your flesh every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was finally in this position, lips dragging up the skin of your inner thighs slowly.

“Oh, yeah?” He mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

“Mhm,” you reply, watching as his face gets closer and closer to where you want him. “Was hoping maybe if I dressed hot enough you’d finally crack, get the balls to shoot your shot.”

Matt drags his nose up your inner thighs, kissing occasionally until his face is right pressed into your panties, the thin fabric being the only barrier separating your bodies from what you both craved so badly. His tongue slips past his lips to flatten on your folds through your underwear, a small groan leaving his lips. “Was gonna shoot my shot anyway, just thought I’d have time for one more drink before you got all bitchy on me.”

A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his tongue on you, wanting nothing more than to rip the flimsy thong off and fling it across the room. “Calling me a bitch with your head between my legs is a little ridiculous, Matt,” you tease breathlessly, keeping your eyes locked on him. His hands move to push your skirt upwards before his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “Sorry, next time I call you a bitch I’ll make sure I’m not about to eat you out.”

You scoff at his sarcastic response and roll your eyes, expecting nothing less than him making some snarky comment. His nose dips down and buries itself in the fabric again, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a deep breath, moaning on the exhale. “Holy fuck.” He groans out before he tucks his fingers into the front of your underwear and ripped them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him, drooling in anticipation.

“Are you…” you stare down at him incredulously, eyes wide. “Are you smelling me?”

Matt looks back up at you with an exasperated expression, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?” He replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how good pussy smells? How good it tastes? God, I could get off on that alone.”

You shake your head in disbelief at him, to which he releases a small laugh, shooting you a wink before dipping his head back down and pressing his lips between your folds, planting a small kiss on your clit as his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to be used by him. “Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. His hands wrap around your thighs and his fingers dig into the skin on the inside of your legs, kneading them softly as his tongue starts to work between your folds, quiet moans leaving him as the taste of you flooded his senses.

The sounds you made weren’t as quiet, the volume of your whines starting to fill the room, grateful for the music blaring through the rest of the house to drown you out. Your head fell back on your shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on his tongue on you and the way his hands never stopped moving, whether it was his thumbs stroking over your skin or his palms rubbing up and down.

“Fuck, Matt…” you whimper, dropping your elbows out from underneath you so your back was flat on the bed, body already reacting to the way his mouth was moving on you, thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

He was eating you out in a way you’ve never felt before, his actions hungry and fueled by lust, lips and tongue working in tandem as he practically made out with your drooling core, the squelching of his mouth meeting your heat filing your ears. “Matt,” you warn, reaching down to grab at his hair, pushing him off of you.

He pulls away reluctantly, staring down at you with glazed over eyes, his mouth and chin glistening from the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. “What?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathing heavily. “Just close ‘n I don’t wanna finish yet.”

Matt’s confused at your words, staring down at you like he doesn’t quite understand, head tilting slightly as his lips parts to speak. “That’s kind of the whole point of what I’m doing,” he states.

“But… I wanna have sex,” you reply like it’s obvious.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Matt lets go of your thighs and runs a hand through his hair, growing more puzzled. “Do you not want me to eat you out?”

Your cheeks are darkening in embarrassment the more this conversation drags on, your hands coming up to cover your face. “I do! You’re really good at it! I just don’t want to cum before you actually… fuck me.”

“Why?” Matt snorts out a laugh, crawling onto the bed and hooking his hands under your thighs again, dragging you up the bed until your head was almost at the headboard, his own body moving to hover over yours. “I’ll just make you cum again. And again…” he leans down until his lips are touching your ear, one hand moving to rub over your clit gently, his two middle fingers rubbing through your slit. “And again, til you can’t even think straight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he manhandles you, the way he pushed your body up the bed like it was nothing creating a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. “Really?” You questioned quietly, not used to men even really caring about getting you off even once.

“Mhm,” Matt hums into your ear, lips trailing down over your neck. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod your head quickly, nervously. “Just never came more than once before.”

Matt snorts against your collarbone, dipping his two fingers inside of you, your pussy putting up no resistance to him, sucking him in greedily. “Probably because you sleep with a bunch of fucking losers.” He comments, following up his words by sucking a mark into the fleshy mound on your chest barely covered by your bra anymore.

Your back arches off the mattress when his fingers curl inside you, a loud whimper leaving your lips as your hands grip the sheets on either side of you. “Oh my god,” you moan out, ignoring the comment he made. You’ll have to remember to scold him later.

“How ‘bout you just lay there and keep making those pretty noises, yeah?” Matt smirks, sliding down the bed again until his mouth is back on your soaked heat, groaning against your clit when the taste hits his tongue again.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, how his mind is absolutely reeling from the way he’s got you coming apart underneath him. The way you taste, the way you sound, it’s all making his mind fuzzy, the buzz from the alcohol fading into the distance as he becomes more pussy drunk than anything in the moment. He’s trying to keep himself from losing control and fucking you into oblivion, grounding himself by listening to the sweet sounds you made.

“So good, Matt, right there,” you cry out, chest heaving as he brings you back to the brink of your orgasm, knuckles turning white against his black sheets. “Fuck, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, one of your hands coming down to thread in his hair, this time holding him against you instead of pulling him off.

“Mhmm,” he moans into your skin, tongue lapping up your juices fervently, fingers keeping pace inside of you.

The way his voice rumbled against your clit was all you needed to send you over the edge, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned loudly, thighs trembling around Matt’s head.

He coaxed you through it, fingers and tongue unrelenting until you were lax and whimpering against the bed, legs twitching from overstimulation with every movement. Matt pulled his lips away, placing one more small kiss on your clit before looking up at you, smiling at how spent you looked, hair sticking to your forehead and your teeth buried in your hand from trying to keep quiet. “You covered up your pretty mouth,” he fake pouts, crawling back up the bed so his face is above yours. “Now I gotta make you cum again.”

You stare up at him breathlessly, watching as his face comes back into view, his expression dark as he stares at you. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t wanna be too loud.”

“No such thing,” Matt smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips softly. You melt into the kiss, instantly returning it and tasting yourself on his mouth, something you’d hated in the past but felt immensely turned on by in this situation. He only kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away and gazes down at you again. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod excitedly, agreeing instantly. He climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt over his head before walking to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, throwing it next to you on the bed. Your eyes watch the small foil pack as it lands next to you, feeling your heart rate pick up at the realization that this was actually happening. You were about to let your best friend have his way with you in his room during a fucking party, not caring who would hear, and especially not caring about what this would do to your relationship in the moment. Those were consequences you’ll face later, but right now all you could think about was having Matt buried deep inside you.

“Matt?” You sit up slowly and look up from the condom, letting your eyes trail over him, landing on his hands that were working on the button on his jeans, then slowly dragging his zipper down. He hums in response, urging you to continue. You clear your throat nervously, reaching out to pick up the condom. “I haven’t been on birth control for years just for you to not fuck me raw.”

Matt’s lips part as he sucks in a small breath, watching as you tossed the condom back onto the bedside table before smiling up at him. “You serious?” He asks, pushing his jeans down until they fall on their own, stepping out of them before kneeling back over you, his hand coming up to hold onto the back of your neck. You nod again, just as enthusiastic as the first. “Yeah,” you respond softly. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Matt groans and grabs your shirt to finally pull it fully off, throwing it across the room before he helps you out of your bra as well. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbles, shoving you back down onto the bed. A small giggle leaves your lips as he throws you down, hair fanning out over the pillow. The only thing you were left in was the black mini skirt that Matt was obsessed with, the material shoved up and bunched around your hips. It was completely out of the way of what was important, and Matt had no intentions of removing it from you.

Your folds and inner thighs were completely soaked when you spread your legs open for Matt to settle between, the wet skin glimmering in the dim lights of his room, a sight that Matt had to force himself to tear his eyes from so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “You have no idea how pretty your pussy is, do you?” He mumbled, pushing his briefs just low enough for his dick to spring out, so hard it almost hurt when the cool air hit it. Your ears burned hot at his words, shaking your head gently. “No, I don’t. Wanna tell me how pretty it is?” You reach down to grab the backs of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart to expose yourself to him even more.

“Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry but I’m already about to bust in my pants, can I just…” he clears his throat and reopens his eyes, looking down at the glorious sight below him; you staring up at him as you pull your legs wide open for him, pussy on display and glistening just for him, patiently waiting to pull him into your walls. His hand comes down to wrap around his aching cock and you watch as he starts to jerk himself off, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips, jaw slack from the pleasure.

It takes him less than a minute to stroke himself to his climax, hips stuttering as he coaxed out his load all over your stomach and added to the mess adorning your lower half, your own jaw dropping as you watch him cum all over you. “That was fucking hot,” you praise, a sinister smile forming on your lips.

He laughs, taking a few deep breaths before he situates his hips against yours, resting his tip against your entrance. “Thanks. I was not going to last at all and I’ve always wondered what you’d look like covered in my cum, so.. two birds.” He joked.

You’re about to laugh with him when he shoves himself inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. The movement rips a gasp from your lips, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch. “Oh!” You squeak out, locking eyes with Matt as he drags his own gaze up your body to stare down into your eyes. “My fucking god,” he groaned, slowly dragging his cock out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft whine out of your lips. “Holding that pussy wide open for me, hm?”

You bite your lip harshly as your head drops back onto the pillow, eyes rolling back as Matt starts up a quick rhythm, his cock deliciously dragging through your walls. The angle of your legs being pushed up had him hitting every sweet spot inside of you, your voice growing hoarse from how much you were whining and moaning, hands starting to lose your grip on your legs. “C’mon, baby, don’t let up now, show me how pretty you look taking my cock so well.”

You’re trying your best when you readjust your grip on the backs of your knees, but the mixture of sweat and how weak you felt made the task difficult, your hands sliding around and unable to get a good grip. “Can’t, Matt,” you whimper, opening your eyes again to look back up at him, silently begging for help. He notices your struggle and pushes your hands away with his own, spreading his fingers out on the backs of your thighs to push them against you, the new angle of his cock inside you making you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, please don’t stop, need you right there.” You babble on, staring up at Matt as his eyes stay trained on where your bodies meet.

“Touch yourself, princess,” Matt demands, forcing his gaze up to meet yours, admiring the way your eyes were glazed over and half covered by heavy eyelids. “If you can’t hold your legs up you gotta touch yourself for me, baby.”

You’re taken aback, not used to such demands. Normally the guys you slept with didn’t even care about if you finished or not, and now here Matt was making sure you came at least twice. It was a bit confusing at first, but you eventually processed his words, eyebrows furrowing. “But, Matt, I-,”

He cuts you off with a sharp dig into your thighs with his fingers, silencing you immediately. “Fucking touch yourself for me,” he says again, leaving no room for argument. “Wanna see you cum all over me, see your pretty face and hear how good you sound.”

Really, who were you to deny such a convincing statement? Especially when he asked so nicely.

“Fuck,” you whisper in defeat, bringing your hand between your legs and taking a deep breath before pressing your two middle fingers into your clit, whimpering softly as you drew small circles around it, the pleasure of that mixing with the way Matt still thrust into you making you clench your eyes shut again, moaning as your head dug back into the pillow, back arching into the pleasure. “Oh my god, so good, Matt.”

Once he saw your eyes close again, Matt looked down to where your hand was picking up speed on your sensitive nerves, your movements and his grinding matching up in pace until your legs were trembling again, still held in place by his rough grip. “That’s perfect, baby, shit, you’re fucking made for me, hm? Made to take me all the way like this?”

“Yes,” you choke out, throat starting to straight from how hard you were rubbing yourself, breath starting to catch in your throat. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god, Matt, I’m cumming again,” you gasp, whole body tensing up for a few seconds before your orgasm crashed over you, your whole body shaking and legs trying to close but unable to due to Matt holding them in place. He’s groaning loudly, thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own high, his mouth dropping in pleasure when he finally reached his peak, loud, attractive moans spilling from his lips.

Matt’s own eyes are screwed shut as he paints his release over your walls, breath shaky as he slows down, unaware of how hard he’s gripping into your skin until you whine his name out and push your legs out of his grip. When he lets go, his forearms come down to rest on either side of your head, his face burying in your neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans tiredly, still buried inside you. “Y’have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like that.”

You laugh, running a clammy hand over his equally sweaty back, patting his skin in a teasing matter. “Glad you got it out of your system.” You reply.

His head pops up after you speak, staring down at you questioningly. “Oh, I didn’t. I’ve still got plenty of fantasies to run through.” Matt tells you, and though his tone is silly, you know he’s completely serious, so you raise your eyebrows at him inquisitively. “Did this not fulfill your fantasies?” You ask him.

He scoffs and sends you a classic Matt eye roll, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him that. “It did, but only some. I’ve got like a year’s worth of filthy shit I wanna do to you.” He tells you, dipping back down to nip at the soft skin on your neck, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before letting go, blowing over the wet spot to make you shiver. “Like mark you up, fuck you all over my house, in my car, in the shower, I wanna fuck you on your hands and knees, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck that pretty, pretty mouth of yours, wanna hear you beg for me…” his lips are moving down your skin as he speaks, leaving soft kisses along his route until he’s nestled between your breasts, pulling away to look down at your body. “Wanna be able to call you mine,” he confesses, leaning back in to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. The feeling made you whine softly, your core tingling in anticipation, even though you were spent and anymore contact might make you cry.

“Matt,” you huff, reaching up to grab his face and push him off, looking down at his pouty expression. “Everything is so sensitive, feels like my skin is on fire.”

He smiles down at you, like he’s taken your words in the complete opposite direction you meant, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perfect, so you can give me one more, yeah?”

You’re still processing what he’s said by the time he’s scooted back down the bed and positioned his face between your legs once again, a big grin on his face. You’re about to push him away and tell him you can’t take anymore, you’re too overstimulated to give him anything else, but when his mouth comes forward and starts working on you again, you’re silenced aside from the loud groans and whines coming from your lips, deciding one more couldn’t hurt.

-

a/n: matt’s favorite adjective for you is pretty. clearly (:

also welcome to my playlist series! leave requests for songs you’d like me to write songs based off of

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah

@sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo

@secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside

@sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo

@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003

@poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[multifandoms27-blog]

First Kiss

Content: TFP! Megatron x Fem! T/O! Reader

Warnings: Drug use

Notes: The T/O above stands for techno-organic. Y'all already know I had to write about my favorite bot

• ───────────────── •

Entering the control room, you looked around at the unusually empty room. Normally Vehicons and Soundwave would be in here, but today, it's just Megatron. He had called for you over the comms, and you hoped you weren't about to get the Starscream treatment.

"You called for me, my liege?"

Megatron stood in front of the biggest screen that was currently off, and served as a window now. The stars and dark sky made him hard to see, if it weren't for the dim lights in the room. He had his servos clasped behind his back, and he slowly turned to look at you.

"Yes, I have called you. I wanted to...address something peculiar I heard." Megatron spoke...softly? Why was he speaking softly?

"And that would be?" You asked.

He let out a small chuckle and fully turned to you, letting his servos fall to his sides. In large strides, he was suddenly in front of you. Raising one servo, he placed it under your chin to ensure you wouldn't look away.

"Soundwave gave me some intel that was most...intriguing to me, and I wanted to double check with you first."

You weren't that high of a rank. You were barely at Knockout's rank, let alone Soundwave's or anyone elses. "Why me, sir? I'm no high ranked officer. Why not double check with Soudwave himself?"

"Because my dear, it is about you and your...feelings. Soundwave was gracious enough to tell me what you are too afraid to do."

You grew nervous. Did he know? "And...that would be?"

Megatron chuckled and looked over at the door. As if on cue, a Vehicon walked through with a tray in his servos. On the tray were two purple energon cubes...dark energon. You blinked in surprise, Megatron never shares his energon with anyone.

"Forgive my ignorance, but please no more dancing around the matter. What is really going on?" You spoke out of turn, you knew it, but you needed to know what this was about.

Megatron chuckled. "I know of your feelings for me."

The Vehicon stopped. Your heart stopped. Time seemed to have stopped. Megatron's smirk however, grew. So time didn't exactly stop. You felt the color drain from your face. How did Soundwave know? You felt a wave of betrayal wash over you. Unfortunately, that's how things go in the Decepticon ranks.

Megatron laughed and took both energon cubes and dismissed the Vehicon. "Do not worry, my dear. I return your affections. In fact, I asked you here today to toast to our new relationship."

"Relationship?" You were still lost.

"Well yes, we return each others affections, so its only natural we become one." Megatron's narrowed optics pierced through you.

"Yeah...yeah that is true." He handed you one of the cubes as you spoke.

"And what better way to become one, than to relish in Unicron's blood together?" Megatron placed one servo on the small of your back.

You were pulled closer to him, and you clutched the cube close to your chest. You had to remind yourself that you could ingest energon, but...what kind of affect would dark energon have on you? Regardless, your heart did all the thinking now.

"Okay. I accept."

Megatron's grin grew wider, showing more of his sharp teeth. He put the cube to his lips and drank the whole thing, and went in for a slow, sensual kiss. His metallic lips moved along with your fleshy ones. You felt the shock increase in your body, but you did relax.

Then you felt liquid enter your mouth, despite not drinking any energon. You thought Megatron had swallowed his...

The dark energon dripped down the sides of your mouth, and he slowly pulled away. He threw the empty cube to the side and caressed your cheek. "Feel the blood of Unicron take over your system, my dear. Soon it shall consume you, and we will be one in our shared interest."

The effects were immediate. You felt the familiar sensation of being high. Light headedness, delayed vision, sluggish movements...you were amazed at how fast it worked. You watched as Megatron slowly pried the dark energon cube from your hands and drank it himself, this time swallowing it. His optics turned purple and he placed both servos on your cheeks.

"We will rule the world, together, my love." Megatron grinned and kissed you once more.

You let the dark energon take over your system, and relished in the blood of Unicron with your new love.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my Transformers masterlist in case you wanna request something!

[clawsdevour]

hii can i have a kuroo x fem reader who is sick pls??

in kuroo's care

wc: 0.7k content warning: fluff, kuroo x reader who's sick, not proofread, my shitty writing

note: YOU FREAKING GET ME. SICK READER X KUROO WHO TAKES CARE OF YOU UGGHHHHH HE'S SO HUSBAND. HOPEFULLY U ENJOYYYY THIS SHORT SCENARIO !!!!

୭ ˚○,.

Waking up later than usual, your mind was so hazed and scrambled. Your forehead felt like a hot firework about to be released in the sky in the smelting humid air on the Fourth of July. Mustering all your strength to shuffle your head to turn to your left. Kuroo wasn’t at your side in bed with you, he’d already left for work as he usually leaves earlier than you. You groan, feeling horribly cold as you quiver under your warm covers. 

Occupied with promoting volleyball across the nation, Kuroo gets a phonecall from your workplace. He’s been informed as your emergency contact, and learns that you didn’t show up to work today. Kuroo furrows his brows in suspicion from hearing your work tell him about your unexplained absence. Ending the call, getting up from where he sat. Kuroo hurriedly grabs his blazer that was hanging on the back of his desk chair and calls off the rest of his day for work to see you.

You’re laying in bed eyes shut, soundly snoozing until you heard your bedroom door open with a slight clunk. Holding his blazer over his right shoulder, his heart sinks at the sight of you laying in bed with the covers wrapped around you. You’re overheating and struggling to breathe through your stuffed nosed. Rushing towards your side, Kuroo’s hand is feeling the warm temperature all over your face. 

“Kuroo… is that you?” Shifting your heavy head your hoarse low voice muttered out. Through your eyelashes you see Kuroo with an expression of worry spread across his face. You’re trying your best to keep your gaze on him as he’s feeling the heat emit from your face.

“Yes, I’m here. Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?” Looking into your eyes, whispering to prevent your head from throbbing. “Hold on, let me get you a wet washcloth really quick.”

Nodding your head before he heads to the bathroom. Your eyes droop, letting your drowsiness consume you. Hearing his steps grow louder in your direction, you feel a cool dampness press against your forehead and a large hand caress your furiously warm cheek. Seeing him in the corner of your vision you avert your gaze to see what he has to say.

“I’m gonna head out to get you some medical rememdies to make you feel better, m’kay? Don’t move, I’ll be back.” He’s stepping back, grabbing his wallet out from his pants pocket. Kuroo slips on his blazer, making adjustments as he swiftly strides out of the bedroom.

At the corner of your house, Kuroo’s looking at the medicine and health aisle. He picks up what he believes would be the best remedies to fight back against your cold. Reading all the colored labels that say things that best fits the description of the state you’re currently bedridden in. Scanning and paying for the items, Kuroo dashes back home knowing your sickness wouldn’t get any better if he walked.

Back in your bedroom, he switched out your current washcloth for a cooler one, freshly dipped and wrang out for your warm forehead. Pulling a chair to sit next to you, he’s put all of the remedies on your side table.

Spoon in hand, pouring the thick liquid that takes shape of the utensil. In your deep slumber, you feel a cold metal prob against the opening of your mouth. You fight back against your eyes, peeking at him through your heavy eyelids, Kuroo’s spoonfeeding you some bright blue cough syrup that tasted like mint.

“Say, ‘Ahh’ and take this medicine will you? You won’t get any better if you don’t open up.” Kuroo’s soft silky voice cooes at you. Parting open your lips, the minty syrup enters your mouth which you swallow down feeling the cool mint drip down your throat. Putting the spoon down, he’s observing you with his mouth curved into a gentle smile. “Rest up, before dinner. I’m gonna cook you a nice warm soup to eat.” Kuroo fluffs your pillow at the sides and tucks you into bed, one last glance at you before turning off the lights to let you recover.

masterlist here

[nightghoul381]

Honey Charm & Spicy Curse

Ellis Twilight ~ Spicy Curse

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories! And I promise this one is worth buying because the voiced lines make it so much better 🥵

Explicit Content | Smut | NSFW | MDNI

CW: Curse Play (aka bondage), mention of sexual objects, nipple/breast play, clitoral stimulation, rough sex, mention of death

The night after completing a certain mission.

After we got ready and got into bed together, Ellis gently pulled me into his arms.

Ellis: “I’m glad the mission ended safely. Shall we get some rest today?”

Kate: “Yeah, goodnight.”

He gave me a comforting kiss on my forehead, and I buried my face in his warm chest.

But—the image of the mission site we’d just been at was still stuck in my head.

It was a mansion where men and women, regardless of who they were, could meet in secret and engage in lustful interactions.

The room we entered contained tools for that purpose—some of which we had no idea how to use.

They were covered in various liquids and scattered about.

I found myself caught up in the atmosphere of the room, created solely for the enjoyment of pleasure and casting aside all reason—

(Anyone could use any tool…)

(Ellis… I wonder if there are times when you feel like doing something like that too.)

(…Even if that were the case, I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone other than me.)

(Wait, I can’t believe I’m even thinking about something like this.)

The feelings that had seeped out of me at that time came back to me, and I closed my eyes in a hasty attempt to suppress them.

Ellis: “…Can you not sleep?”

A comforting voice fell over me and my head was gently stroked.

Kate: “Ah, yeah… I just felt excited.”

Ellis: “…Me too. I don’t think I can sleep.”

Kate: “Ellis, you too?”

When I gently raised my head, I was greeted with a troubled smile.

Ellis: “Today’s mission… I’ve been to those kinds of sites many times.”

Ellis: “Until now, I’d only thought of them as places to carry out missions.”

Ellis: “But today, when I saw you shocked by what you saw in the room, I was stunned too…”

Ellis: “…I started imagining what would happen if I did something like what was going on in that room with you.”

Ellis: “I’d like to see you doing it too.”

The seductive whisper sent chills through my eardrums.

Kate: “Actually, me too… Ellis, I was wondering if there are times when you feel like doing something like that.”

I confessed without thinking—

Ellis: “…Well, I’ll tell you.”

Kate: “Huh? Nngh.”

He kissed me passionately and his desire flowed through me.

As I felt my desire gradually growing—

He grabbed the top of my head and snapped both my wrists together at my chest.

Kate: “Ahh.”

Ellis: “I’m sorry, I thought that I would be unable to stop today, so I tried to hold back, but… I just couldn’t.”

Ellis: “Kate, you’re too cute.”

He was on top of me and my wrists, still joined together, were pinned tightly above my head.

I was a little taken aback by his forceful behavior, which left no room for argument.

Ellis: “We don’t have any equipment like in that room here.”

Ellis: “So, with my power… I can restrain you.”

Sensing a faint hint of madness seeping out, my heart trembled and became excited.

Ellis: “But, what I want to do is something that will make you happy, Kate.”

Ellis: “I want to go shopping with you, eat delicious meals with you, and sleep with you.”

Ellis: “…This is how we seek each other.”

He gave me a light kiss, but the twilight-colored eyes looked down at me were consumed in the faint darkness.

Ellis: “This is what makes me happy… How about you?”

Ellis: “Are you…happy right now?”

--The sin of his curse is bondage.

It was my joy to share that sin with him.

Kate: “Yeah… I want to do things that will make you happy, Ellis, and I want you to do the same.”

Ellis: “…Good.”

He smiled happily and carelessly tore off his clothes.

Ellis: “Maybe, I was being selfish today.”

Kate: “Nngh…!”

He quickly sealed his lips over mine and stirred his tongue carefully around my mouth.

My tongue, jaw, and the hot, melting sensation all the way to the back of my throat made my head feel hazy and foggy.

Ellis: “…I like that face.”

The palm of his hand crept up my thigh in a seductive way.

Caressing the lines of my body, he rolled up my negligee, pulled it over my head, and tied it around my wrists.

My bare skin was instantly exposed to the air but was soon covered by the heat of his large palms.

He grabbed the exposed curves of my breasts, licked, sucked, and rolled his tongue over the prominent peaks.

Kate: “aAahh…ngh!”

He smiled blissfully, as if enjoying my reaction to his tongue.

My body began to ache deeply, and my breathing became sweet and humid.

I unconsciously tried to rub my inner thighs together, but his knee was in between us and stopped me—

Ellis: “…Do you want this place too?”

My beloved’s fingertips ran along the base of my thighs, finding the spot I desired.

Through my underwear, he pinched the bud that was swollen with anticipation.

Kate: “Aah! Ungh…”

Ellis: “No? Should I stop?”

The fingertips that still held it were tingling, driving me into a corner and leaving me with no way to resist.

Kate: “ngh, No… Don’t stop… Aaagh…”

My underwear quickly became damp and his fingers ran over it, feeling the shape of the tight folds.

Kate: “Mmmnnn…. Ghhh…”

Ellis: “…It feels good… I love your honesty, Kate.”

He whispered with slightly ragged breath, and then deftly removed the damp underwear that was clinging to me.

Instead of a finger, he pressed something hotter and harder against me.

Ellis: “Me too… I’ve become so honest with you too. Only with you.”

While scooping up the honey with his swollen tip, my folds were prodded and crushed.

The air was filled with lewd, squelching sounds.

There was almost more, so much more, but he wouldn’t give me anything more.

Kate: “…don’t make me wait… don’t…”

Ellis: “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

Kate: “…I want… I want it deeper.”

Ellis: “Mmm… I understand.”

My inner thighs were spread wide, and I felt a heavy, stretching impact.

Kate: “---AAaahh!”

Ellis: “Can you relax a bit? It won’t go in all the way.”

The gradual push of his heat into me slowly melted my insides.

Kate: “Aah.. There….”

Ellis: “Nnh, it’s stuck…Mmmnngh.”

As if to penetrate further into the spot he had found, he slammed his hips into me violently, making the bed creak—

Ellis: “Hey… Tell me.”

Ellis: “Who is the one pushing into your right now and making you feel so good…?”

Kate: “Haah.. It’s.. you…El-lis…!”

I nearly forgot to breathe, but I desperately tried to give an answer.

I was at the mercy of the stimulation at the place we were joined and felt myself clenching him tightly.

Ellis: “…Fhh, your insides… are responding too…”

Ellis: “That’s right… There were toys in that room, right?”

Ellis: “…What did you imaging doing with me…?”

Kate: “Hnngh, that’s…Ha…Aah!”

The desire and shame that I had been trying to suppress back then mixed together and oozed out again.

I was being torn to pieces by his passion.

Ellis: “I’m much better than some toy, right?”

Ellis: “Hnngh…”

Kate: “Gaah, Aaah…AAanggh…!”

Ellis: “See… I know the best parts of you…”

It was as if his feelings were being planted along with the accelerating desire that he drove into me.

The fragrant scent of a man, the lewd, wet noises, and the drops of sweat that fell on my bare skin every time he moved…

It was driving me more and more crazy.

In my daze, I instinctively asked for the words I wanted to hear.

Kate: “El-lis…are… are you happy…?

He focused on me and gave me a melting smile.

Ellis: “…Yeah, I’m happy.”

Ellis: “I wouldn’t mind dying like this…ngh, Aah!”

Both of us burst with excitement at the same time.

Kate: “---, ….gh!”

The throbbing inside of me was proof of his happiness.

I was trapped in the bottomless darkness of those dusk-colored eyes,

And I prayed for an eternity where the thorns that cut through me would never wither.

[dark-moonlust]

Period Pain, Cravings and Snuggles Part 1

Pairing: werewolf oc x female oc

Summary: Logan takes care of his wife Erin who has bad period cramps.

Warnings: mentions of period pain and discomfort, extreme fluff and cuteness, intimacy, snuggling, pure comfort!

Hello, moonlust friends! This is in 1st POV, and it's extremely snuggly! 🩷 Happy reading! Part 2 with all the smut is on patreοn.

Erin 

The rain pattered softly against the windowpane, in a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the sharp ache hitting my lower stomach. My fortress of blankets and pillows on the couch felt like my only solace today, but even their warmth couldn’t make me forget the heavy haze of cramps and lethargy. I shifted, wincing slightly, and clutched the heating pad tighter to my belly.

A low growl echoed in the room, followed by the sight of my husband, Logan. He stood at the door, a cup of freshly brewed tea in his clawed hand. His dark brown fur was magnificent, slick and shiny and his warm hazel eyes glinted softly in the dim light of the room. His scent was earthy and spiced, mingled with the faint musk of cedarwood and something raw, something that clung to him no matter what.

My husband was unlike any other, a werewolf in all his glory— a creature of the wild fitting perfectly into domesticity.

And he was mine. Every feral, growly inch of him.

“Hey, love,” I said, my lips curving in a smile despite the discomfort twisting inside me.

“Hey, sweetheart,” came his deep voice. “You hiding in here all cozy without me?”

“Not hiding,” I murmur. “Just trying not to die.”

“Not on my watch. I’ve brought you some tea.”

In two wide strides, he was beside me, his bare feet soundless on the hardwood floor. He placed the warm mug of tea on the coffee table. Before I could even think to move, he knelt in front of me, his large hands gently tugging my blankets down. Making way for his warm hands to fondle me.

“I can scent your discomfort, sweetheart. Let me help you.”

“It’s just cramps,” I muttered. Logan was used to my having bad period cramps but I always felt so foolishly shy about it.

“Just cramps?” He tutted. “You know better than to lie to me, sweetheart. I'm your mate and husband. And I’ll take care of you."

There was no denying the warmth in his touch as he placed his large, warm paw on my lower tummy. It was even better than the heating pad, which I promptly tossed aside. The heat from him sunk through my thin shirt, relieving the discomfort slightly. He rubbed round and round and it was so damn good. His other hand swept a stray strand of hair off my face, the sharp edges of his nails still brushing my skin in that familiar, electric way.

“Drink your tea, sweetheart,” he said and watched me carefully.

I did as told, consuming the warm liquid. It was soothing and just what I needed. Once I emptied my cup, Logan quickly lit up the fireplace in the corner. Then he was back, his towering frame hanging over me.

"You've been curled up here all day, sweetheart," he purred.

"Mm-hmm. I believe I’m one with the couch now.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Good thing I know how to unstick you."

Then he was grabbing me, blankets and all. A happy squeak escaped my lips as he cradled me against his chest, his arms carrying me as if I weighed nothing.

"Logan!" I said weakly, but the sound faded into a sigh as he seated us down in the large couch next to the fireplace.

"There," he breathed, laying me on his lap and securing the blankets around us both. His hands moved instinctively, rubbing slow, abstract circles across my lower back.

"Better?"

I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my ear. "Better," I said gently.

He purred, pressing his nose to my hair, inhaling deeply. “You smell of lavender. And chocolate. Did you take snacks from the stockpile I hid in the pantry?"

I grinned. "You hid it in the wrong spot.”

"Good. It was the stockpile I keep for emergencies and today is an emergency.” He smiled. “I will buy you more and do whatever you ask me to.”

I sighed and snuggled closer to his warmth. "Hhmm… will you bake a cake for me, hubby?”

“You bet, sweetheart.”

“How about cookies?”

"Consider it done.”

“Something salty, too. Hmm… pizza?”

“Sure thing.”

I beamed. “What about a kiss?”

He grinned. “That, I’ll give you in abundance.”

Tipping his head, he kissed me, his tongue coaxing my mouth open and licking inside. I moaned and cupped his furry face. He devoured me tenderly, careful not to hurt me with his sharp fangs. His hand found its way to my belly, rubbing and chasing away the period pains. His presence, his touches, his kisses were so soft and achingly beautiful. When we pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

“Thanks for always being here for me," I said quietly, my hand tracing his jawline.

"Always."

🐺

Logan

Pale moonlight danced through the half-drawn curtains, enveloping my wife’s sleeping face in a silvery embrace. She was nestled against me, her cheek smushed against my chest. Her breath was a gentle whisper, her fingers delicately gripping the fabric of my shirt as if fearing I might disappear the moment she released her hold.

I pulled her tighter against me and nuzzled the top of her head, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth, shielding her from the burdens and weariness that had shadowed her throughout the day. I hated it when she had period cramps. Not the period itself, she had explained how good it was for her health but the pain… fuck… and this was just day one.

I would have to be more caring with her tomorrow.

Her cramps were always the worst the day after.

Today I’d made her favorite food and sweets, watched her consume them with a happy smile despite the heavy flow and pain.

I made a mental note, planning the day while she shifted about with a whine, her form blending with mine as if we were sculpted from the same marble. This woman fitted so damned perfectly in my body. My mate, my wife, my one and only. Even in the depths of her sleep, she placed her faith in me to keep her safe.

The gentle rhythm of her breath enveloped the space, blending in with the pitter patter of rain as it hit the windowpane. She whined again and my hand moved carefully, making gentle, languid circles along the curve of her spine. I fondled every delicate curve and gentle dip of her form that was forever imprinted in my heart. Erin had a softness that captivated, plus grace and humor that had attracted me at first glance.

“Mm… more,” she whispered in her sleep, her voice a low, sultry murmur.

She rubbed herself against me and I caressed the curve of her hip hidden beneath the blanket. I lingered just above her thigh, careful not to disturb her sleep. Then I slipped my hand beneath her shirt, my palm resting against her lower belly.

I could feel the pulses of pain in her womb. I fondled there gently and a soft sound left her — something between a sigh and a hum — her eyelids fluttering softly without waking. A small smile on her face, she remained asleep, nuzzling closer, her nose poking my collarbone.

Leaning my head, I let my snout graze her hairline, her sweet-smelling strands brushing against my mouth. I rubbed her stomach, let the warmth of my palm soothe the ache. Meanwhile, her scent lingered in the air, a blend of lavender and the unique essence that is entirely her own.

“It will be alright, sweetheart,” I breathed softly against her skin.

Did you enjoy? Shares and comments are greatly appreciated! Plus, would you be into a whole series of monsters taking care of their menstruating mates? Let me know!

[leezlelatch]

On a Moth’s Delicate Wing

Secondo x F!Reader - Yearning, unrequited to requited love, mild Catholic Church bashing, insecurity, comfort, fluff. Written for and inspired by @writingjourney. Secondo enjoys a quiet session of study with the woman he has fallen so rapidly for.

The clock struck the hour. Grey clouds danced in the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance as they opened, cascading rain tumbling to the ground in skipping droplets which created a pleasant thrum of white noise on the roof. Secondo closes his eyes, drawing breath through his nostrils, taking in the smell from the open window. He stands, his dark slacks shifts against his thighs as he approaches the window, opening it wider. He leans his hands on the sill, watching the raindrops patter against his skin, soothing against his arthritic joints.

A book sat open on his desk next to steaming cup of tea, and he turns from the storm to pick it up, blowing a little on the dark liquid before taking a sip. “And what have we learned, falenina?” He murmurs, his eyes finding you, perched on his couch with the same book in your lap. He smiles as your hair catches the breeze from outside, a few errant strays curling around your neck and cheek. He so longed to reach out and brush them back, to glide his fingers through hair you never let air dry. Perhaps the rain on his fingers would wetten the strands, and he would watch in delight as they would curl and spread out in the humidity of the room. Only then may he gain an idea of what you look like when you first wake up, or after you’ve shared your body with someone who loves you just right.

It should be him.

“After the Catholic Church began to sell indulgences, the Satanic Church saw an increase in worshippers,” you murmur, your eyes scanning the page of the book you have both been studying.

“And why is that?” He pushes, leaning against his desk, one arm crossed over his stomach as the other is preoccupied with holding his mug. He takes another drink, his mustache twitching from the heat of the beverage.

“Because selling tickets into heaven revealed to a people already ravaged by plague that the church was corrupt. Is corrupt. And they sought a faith that wouldn’t lie to them,” you conclude, placing your bookmark between the pages. “They still practice something of that today, yeah?”

Secondo tilts his head in consideration, placing his mug down. He makes a turn about the room, his eyes scanning the various paintings on his walls depicting the duality of man, the masculine and the feminine, the Morningstar in his glory. He stops at one. De Goya, Saturn Devouring his Son, and he stands in contemplation. “The Catholic Church regularly consumes those who seek guidance,” he murmurs. “It is their unending covenant. To draw in lost souls and spit them out changed. And sometimes, changed for the worst.” He turns to look at her. “We seek to show them the truth. That paradise is not so easily earned with a tithe.”

“Our Siblings contribute to the Church,” you point out, watching him closely. He likes the way you look at him. Your gaze is searching, and as your pretty eyes pass over his face, your lips curve at the corners. Even now, paint-less and in his slacks and vest, you find him attractive. There are no barriers between the two of you, you see him as the man he is. Long-lived and jaded, you see his flaws and you smile. How could a man such as he be worthy of the little moth’s attention?

“They do. But we are plain in our words, falenina. In our actions. Our Siblings know that any contribution they seek to give will be given back to them. Through renovation and upkeep of the residency, the chapel, the grounds.” He moves to the couch, sitting down beside her, one leg crossing over the other. “The meals we take together.”

Your smile grows, and you close the book, sitting it aside in favor of turning toward him, sitting cross legged on the couch. “You don’t often eat with us, Papa.”

He makes a gruff noise, turning equally in your direction, one arm slung over the back of the couch. His eyes are dark as he watches you, perhaps strange for a man with one green eye and one white, but they were dark nevertheless. Assessing in his stare which held a thousand secrets, and a weary yearning. “I prefer to cook for myself. Which you would know if you accepted my invitation.”

Your cheeks bloom a lovely shade of pink. Secondo wants to run his tongue across your heated skin, tasting your blush. His eyes linger on the apples of your cheeks, a sense of pride filling his chest. He makes you blush. Him. This old, bitter man full of too much loneliness flusters the most beautiful woman in the Ministry. It feels good, to be desirable. Unless…

“You do not wish to,” he concludes, his voice almost strained. He clears his throat to hide how the mere thought of your rejection affects him. The brief flare of agony which makes him want to sweep a hand across his desk, clearing it of everything to silence the cacophony in his mind with the crash.

“I want to,” you say, your voice soft. It captures his attention immediately, his hand dropping from the couch to linger near your crossed legs. Aching to touch you. “But I would want to keep coming back. And then I wouldn’t want to leave.” Your eyes fall to the surface of the couch and Secondo wants to cry out, to scream at you to keep looking at him.

He couldn’t believe his ears, and then he does touch you, his hand brushing against your leg. The small intake of breath, the flush on your cheeks, it would drive any man to insanity. And Secondo was the least sane of them all. “Do you not understand, amore mio?” He murmurs, a sort of laugh to his voice. It wasn’t at you, but at the incredulity of the situation. That you could possibly feel the same as him. “I do not want you to leave. You cannot leave.”

When next your eyes meet his, Secondo suddenly understands everything. The moth, a nocturnal creature, flies toward the light. And this moth, Secondo’s falenina, is leading him from the darkness toward the brightest future. One he never fathomed for himself, but is grateful for all the same. “You are intertwined in my soul like a witch’s knot. Unbreakable,” he whispers. “A gift from Lucifer himself.”

You stand from the couch in a rush, your steps quick across the office floor. He nearly lunges after you, panic entering his heart as you whip around, your eyes wild with bewilderment. And fear. “I can’t be,” you say, your voice breathless. “I’m not…” The words don’t seem to come to you for a moment, and you grapple for a thought, your eyes darting around the room. “I’m me.”

The conclusion and finality in your voice springs him from the couch and his arms are encircling you. One hand is at your waist, squeezing fast, pressing you to him while the other cradles the back of your head, sliding his fingers in your hair in just the way he has dreamed. “Sì, you are you,” he says passionately, pressing his burning cheek against your own. “And I dream of you. I ache for you in the night and my very being writhes in agony when you are not there. I sit here each day, and I gaze you at you, amore mio, I look at you so deeply and I see the most adoring soul. A woman with the cleverest eyes, thoughtful and careful with her words. A woman who has the silliest jokes and makes an old man laugh more than he has in decades. I see you. And I need you.” Those last words are said with awe. He is in awe over you.

You say nothing in response, and he pulls back to look down at you, his eyes frantically searching your face. “I am a fool, sì?” He whispers. “An old fool.”

“No,” you whisper, eyes wide and glassy with tears. “You are my love.”

Secondo could collapse if he wasn’t holding you in his arms in that very moment. He presses his forehead against yours, a strangled gasp leaving him as his mind and heart absorb those precious words spoken to him. “I suddenly forget what we were doing before this,” he says with a small laugh, voice thick with emotion.

You smile, your arms looping around his neck. A tear falls down your cheek and he kisses it away with a brush of his lips. “We were talking about the Catholic Church.”

Secondo snorts, pulling you backward until he falls to the couch, his grip firm as you land in his lap, straddling him. His fingers capture your chin in a tight grip, and he smiles at you. His eyes are dark again. “Hail Satan.” His lips find yours.

[junipers-archive]

Water

Word Count: 550 Includes: fluff,fluff, fluff! spencer and reader are not together but...well yk. Spencer is concerned reader isnt drinking enough water and reader is not taking the critisism (light-hearted)

You were sitting on the jet with the team, having gone over the case files you had all split up to your preferred parts of the plane in peace.

You and Spencer had taken the two chairs sitting across from one another silently reading your books.

Well, that was until you asked a simple question,

"Does-uh sorry but does anyone have any lotion?" Emily was the first to respond as she started to rummage through her numerous bags,

"yea I think i have some in my go-bag"

That was simple wasn't it?, You had been feeling patricularly dry that week, with patches of dry-spots on you face which sadly you hadn't found the permenant cure for.

Spencer had been noticing but didn't want to add anything as not to offend, but this was getting hard to watch.

"You know, dryness occurs on the face typically when a person isn't consuming enough liquids or in a more common case water throughout the day, to ease this, lotion can be found to help, especially organic lotions containing oats, soothing emollients and no fragrance as to not further agitate the area, but if you're looking for a more permanent solution...drink some water y/n."

You were...preturbed by this comment to say the least, I mean did he really think it was okay to be talking about your water-drinking habits (or lack thereof) on the jet right now?

"I drink plenty of water thank you very much Spence."

He smirked at this remark, "What's in your tumbler right now?"

"What?"

"The tumbler you always carry around. Whats in it right now?"

Was he smiling?

"Thats really none of your business."

"Come on share with the class." he was relentless and snarky.

"Coffee." to your ego's ailment it came out in a whisper.

"And thats what, your third one today?"

Was he really doing this, "Again none of your business..." but even you knew you might have a problem.

And Apparently having everyone stare at you wasn't enough he had to go and make it worse as he stole your favorite tumbler, holding it just out of your reach.

"Give it back Spencer!" You were leaning over the table, causing a spectacle, but you didn't care, you paid good money for that cup.

"Not until you drink some water." He nodded to his own glass, which conveinently for him was filled with water and right between the two of you.

And yea maybe it was childish, this game you two played all the time, but were going to win.

"No."

"Y/n just drink the water." Really now Rossi was involved?

"No! This is ridiculous, ludicrous, overstepping" Now you were sounding like Spencer "absurd, ridiculous and not to mention-"

"Drink The Water!" this came out less clearly but audible enough for you to get the message as the rest of the team, including Spencer essentially yelled at you to drink some water.

In a last attempt to redeem your pride from the pits of Tartarus, you stuck your tounge out at Spencer before downing the glass of water and then making a show the empty glass by turning it upside down.

He then returned your tumbler and grinned.

"See, now was that so hard?"

As you were about to make a quip back, once more Rossi beat you to it having the entire jet in giggles besides you and Spencer,

"Oh make out already!"

[fatuismooches]

THIS MIGHT SOUND A LITTLE DUMB. but i was hit with Dottore Thoughts in the car today and was just thinking like. what if that funky little blue fluid in dottie's earring thing serves as like an emergency medication/antidote for fragile!reader just in case of an emergency? it's able to stabilize reader at the least. he's always ready! just my thoughts hehe :-)

Besides being known for his experiments, another signature of Il Dottore seems to be the blue liquid that accompanies him, sometimes in a separate vial but always swirling around in his earring. One can only guess what that blue liquid is, but given the kind of man Dottore is, it probably isn't anything nice. Perhaps some sort of poison or sedative is the guess of most agents. Good for his kind of work. Unsurprisingly, their guess used to be right.

Used to.

As of now, the earring no longer holds what it used to be. Now, it is the opposite - instead of it being used to inflict pain, it is used to help someone. That someone being none other than you (because who else would he sincerely want to help?) As time went by, it was needed for him to adapt to the current you. You could be fine this minute, but in the next, anything could happen. Illness does such things to you. Oftentimes Dottore finds himself swirling around the liquid once more, and wondering if it's time to start working on a new formula. There's no telling what could happen.

Not to mention, the longer you've been with him, the more you want to leave his reach. You want to go outside. You want to go into town and watch plays and operas. You want to start shivering and sneezing from the snow as you play with Zandy. So many ways it could lead to unpredictability, but it is no problem for Dottore. He will always have things under control and be prepared for any possible situation. (A part of it also comes from your complaining about how it's not nice to randomly be stabbed with a needle.)

Needless to say, all the segments find themselves with a new earring, but no one else would be able to tell the difference. Not even you, at first. Which is why you're naturally a bit scared when all of a sudden he snaps the earring off and somehow opens it at record speed. Unfortunately, it doesn't taste like blue raspberry, but it does somehow make you feel better!

Dottore's always working on something to help you feel better, and you couldn't be more grateful, although you are a bit apologetic for all of his time-consuming efforts.

[cakeinpants]

Previous

Next

***

"Start this thing up." Jabodo commanded to the Sligs...

In a few seconds the X-Tractor activated with a low hum. Pat involuntary clenched the arms of the chair as he felt the repetitive stings of painful little shocks. Hitting just the right nerve endings, triggering a response. Pat squinted and blinked. He felt a stinging in his eyes, and though it had nothing to do with his emotional state, his eyes filled with tears, his body trying to react to an unfamiliar irritant. The tubes greedily consumed the liquid with a sucking noise, sending it into small containers. The sensation was.. unpleasant to say the least. But bearable. At least right now.

Shouldn't Jabodo know that a bit of pain can't scare a dancer? He probably did. There was no point in it apart from a little petty revenge. A reminder of who's in charge.

The Chronicler's ego couldn't bare anything less than complete obedience from his dancers. Pat's refusal earlier today really bruised it. He couldn't physically force Pat to dance, but he definitely could strap him to a chair. Just to feel his power over him. Just to feel in control.

But he knew he wasn't, really. The real one in control was Delvona, and if any visible damage was done to the dancer, he'd have to answer for it to her. And that pissed him off.

"It's a pity. I thought you and I could be on good terms." Pat heard Jabodo's voice again. "I guess we just can't have good things..."

"I'm sorry I caused inconvenience for you, Mr. Jabodo. But my responsibilities don't involve the things you're asking from me."

"Your responsibilities involve doing what I tell you!" Jabodo lost patience. "Turn it up." He growled at the slig at the control panel.

After those words it got worse. Pat couldn't hide a grimace of pain. It did nothing to the productiveness of the X-Taction but clearly gave Jabodo enjoyment.

"More."

The Slig tried to warn:

"Sir, increasing the intensity even more could lead to health-"

"Do it."

After that point everything was a blur. Pat felt his body start to shake uncontrollably, and his contiouseness slipping away. He tried to hold on to it, but didn't last long...

Pat couldn't remember much of what happened next. They must've managed to get him to gain just enough contiouseness to get him out of the X-Tractor. He faintly remembered being dragged somewhere, trying to walk but essentially being carried by the Sligs, as his view kept getting dark. Then they were asking him some annoying questions. Made him say his name and count fingers. He didn't want to answer stupid questions... He just wanted to shut his eyes for a bit.

Next time he came back to his scenes he was alone in his dark room, sitting on the floor leaned against a wall near the door. The sligs brought him back here and didn't even bother to make sure the mudokon makes it to the bed.

His head was pounding, and he felt so weak he didn't even try to get up, but that wasn't the worst thing. The embarrassment, the frustration and resentment boiling inside hurt more than the physical pain from the "procedure". It was so cruel and unnecessary. It was unfair. It was so unfair.. Jabodo doesn't care about ballet or art. He only cares about money and the sense of power over others, drunken on impunity and permissiveness, and there's no one to stop him from getting away with it.

Dance for that Chronicler? No more. He was done. Pat was at the point he didn't care what happens next. Jabodo is not his Master.

He won't see Pat dance again.

[actuallysaiyan]

I Close My Eyes and I Slip Away(Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader)

warnings: major spoilers, mentions of death, angst, mentions of suicide, alcohol and drugs, very sad, lots of emotions, reader is Yuji's adoptive mother and Kento's wife, not for the faint of heart, dark themes word count: 1.9k pairings: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader, Fem!Reader & Yuji Itadori(adoptive mother and son/platonic) summary: you wonder how you'll go on after you lost your childhood sweetheart in the Shibuya Incident. the darkness comes to consume you. a/n: this is pretty dark content, so if you aren't feeling very stable right now, maybe skip out on this one. remember, you are truly loved and matter so much

The kitchen is bleak and cold as you enter. You’re wearing the same pajamas you have been for the last few days…or has it been weeks. Everything has been just such a blur since you lost the love of your life. You know you should try to take care of yourself, but it feels impossible to regain any normality in your life anymore. Days just go by like nothing as you drift from the kitchen to the bathroom to the bed and just spend time mourning the one you loved the most.

As you sit at the kitchen table, you clasp your mug of coffee with both hands. You try to at least do the bare minimum to take care of yourself. It’s not much, but the coffee does give you warmth. A tear slides down your cheek and lands into your coffee.

‘This is how Kento used to take his coffee. Just black, no creamer and no sugar.’

You blow on the hot liquid, and then you take a small sip. The clock on the wall ticks by the seconds of this solemn morning. You look out the window, unsure of what else to do with yourself today. You want to reach out to someone, but the darkness has captured you completely and will not let you go. Even if you managed to find the courage to reach out to someone, it wouldn’t matter. You didn’t really want to go on. You were just waiting for the sweet embrace of death either way you looked at it.

Just then, there is a knock on the door. It pulls you out of your morbid thoughts, and for a moment, you hesitate to answer. The voice of the young man you’ve come to think of as your son is what gets you to get up and unlock the door. His eyes widen in concern when he sees the state you’re in.

“Oh mom…” he whispers softly, pulling you in tightly for a hug. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m so sorry.”

You shudder at his words, “S’okay, Yuji. I’m so happy to see you.”

When he pulls away, he wipes the tears from your cheeks. He leads you back inside and sits you down at the kitchen table. He can see the mess has really started to pile up in here. Yuji figures he can help you out now. He’s come to consider you his mother, and with his adoptive father gone, Yuji knows he needs to step up and take good care of you since his father no longer can.

“Let me make you breakfast,”

You nod your head and take a few more sips of your coffee. Yuji talks about the things he’s had to take care of at the school since his father’s passing. A lot of responsibility has fallen onto his shoulders. You worry about Yuji, considering how young he is and how much he’s had to go through since he first joined the sorcerer’s world. You always wished that you could have a family with Kento, and Yuji had been the answer to that wish. Now it feels like you have been fragmented.

“Here, eat up.” Yuji says as he places the omelet in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and smell of real food.

He sits in front of you and enjoys his own food. The two of you talk about maybe what you’ll do now that Kento is dead. Yuji knows he’s going to have to keep an eye on you. Despite everything, you may try to join Kento in death. Yuji isn’t ready to lose the both of you. You’re just in a fragile state. He knows you need all the warmth right now.

After you’re both done eating, Yuji suggests doing some chores for you while you take a shower. Just the thought of him doing this for you brings tears to your eyes. He gives you another tight hug and gets right to sorting your laundry. You make your way into the bathroom.

The hot water cascades down your body. It’s so hot that it almost burns, but it feels good in a way. It’s reminding you of all the wonderful times you took a shower with your lover. You begin to cry, but you do as well as you can to hold it all together. You think about the young man who is here with you now. He’s lost so much, and yet he still wants to make sure you’re alright. It’s just so much to take. You don’t know how to return to the normal you once had. You worry that you’ll never ever be the same again. Without Kento, life has lost its meaning and its light. The color has been sucked away to leave such a drab and dreary view for you.

You wrap a fluffy towel around yourself after your shower. You head into the bedroom, and you find some clothes on the bed for you. Your heart flutters with affection. As soon as you slip on the clothes, you can tell you’re starting to feel a little better. And when you enter the kitchen again and see the big mess all cleared away, you know that maybe you can find solace in Yuji.

“Hey mom,” he says softly and he takes you into his arms. “I want you to be okay. Just know that I’m always here for you. Night or day, you can call me. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

You’re not ready for him to leave and for this apartment to be so silent except for the ghosts of the past. You tremble in Yuji’s arms, and he holds you even tighter. He’s not sure if he should be leaving you right now, but he also knows he’s got to run a few more errands. With a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, Yuji vows to come back to you tomorrow with the intention of spending the night.

As you close the door, the sadness washes over you once more. But for your son, you try to stay strong. In your bedroom, you turn on the TV. The old shows and movies you used to watch are bringing back some bittersweet memories, but it’s keeping you as comforted as you can. You wrap yourself in the blanket Kento always used to use and you rest your weary body. It’s not long before your eyes close and you’re drifting off to sleep.

“There you are,” Kento says with a smile. Your heart skips a beat when you see him. “I thought you were going to be running late, but you’re right on time.”

You swallow hard. Is this real? There’s no way this could be real. Kento laughs softly at your confusion, then he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Have you missed me?”

A soft, strangled sob erupts from you. Then you throw yourself into his arms. He rubs your back slowly, the warmth of his body feeling so good against your own. It’s all too much for you to even deal with. You never knew an embrace would hurt you in this way. Kento presses soft kisses to your neck and jawline, a soft groan coming from him.

“Shhh…” he hushes you softly. “I know this isn’t easy, but I need you to try and be strong for me.”

You shudder, “Ken…I’m not sure I can.”

He frowns when he hears your words. You two were high school sweethearts that married young. You were the reason he returned to the sorcery world, and you were beginning to blame yourself for his death. You’ve wondered time and time again if you hadn’t convinced him to come back, he might not have died in Shibuya that night. 

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head, “But it is my fault! You were safe when you were a salaryman…”

A cold chill passes through your body, and you begin to watch as Kento shifts appearances in front of you. The last time you saw him alive was the same moment he had turned to face Yuji. Those words still ring in your ears. 

“You’ve got it from here…”

The bathroom is cold as you light a few candles. There’s a bottle of wine on the sink counter. And a note written in black ink for whoever ends up finding you. You’re done with this world. You can’t take it anymore.

You twist open the bottle of pills and you pour many of them into your head. With a soft sigh, you toss it all back with a swig of wine. The pills go down hard, but you know you’ll be happier soon. You’ll be free of the pain sooner than you think. Slowly, you take off your clothes. The pills and wine are already starting to affect you.

The water is so soothing and so good on your aching bones. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks once again for what seems like the umpteenth time. You can feel your mind start to spiral a bit as you think of everything you’re about to leave behind. But you’ve got no regrets about this. At least, you don’t realize in the moment that you have lots of regrets about taking your own life. Eventually, your eyes close and you let yourself get swept up in the warmth of the bath water and the feeling of the pills making you shut down.

“Mom?” a voice calls from the doorway. You can barely make it out, so you continue sinking into the water. Your body is no longer responding to outside stimulus.

“Where are you mom?! Mom, please answer me!”

Everything gets fuzzy after this, and your world turns black as you succumb to the painful end you’ve decided for yourself…

Your eyes begin to flutter open as you take in the stimulus of your surroundings. You blink a few times; your body is aching more than ever. Your eyes dart around the room and the steady beeping from machines begins to fill your ears. In the corner of the room, you notice your son is sleeping on a chair. You’re in a hospital bed right now.

‘He saved me. Yuji came back and saved me.’

You blink back a few tears, “Yuji…son?”

Yuji opens his eyes slowly and when he sees that you are awake and lucid, he bounces from his seat and makes his way over to you. You groan softly as he hugs you tightly. It hurts but it feels good as well. You can’t hold back your tears anymore. You’re crying of relief because you know you can try and make it through this darkness and pain if Yuji is there to help you.

“Mom…I thought I was going to lose you.” Yuji says with a sniffle. “I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Your heart swells with love, “I’m so glad you found me. I got so scared and I had a dream about your dad and…”

He hushes you and rubs your back softly. Yuji murmurs a praise for you, a soft and kind word of hope. Then he takes a few tissues from the side table and he wipes your eyes.

“I know it’s not easy with dad being gone,” Yuji starts. “But I promise to be with you every step of the way.”

You smile through more tears, “I’m so happy I have you.”

Yuji holds your hand, giving a squeeze. The sun begins to shine through the window and you see that beautiful smile on his face. It’s a smile that will give you courage as you get through this darkness.

Nanami’s voice rings through your mind, “You’ve got it from here, my love…take good care of our son.”

[tan1shere]

Could you write a Young Miko story where she notices the reader is being distant. And when she asks it’s because of hate she’s receiving online and she’s not used to it. Like Miko comforting the reader maybe? So cute to think about.

My Angel

Young Miko x female reader !

A/n: Your wish is my command my love ! I especially find this fitting right now, so I hope this helps whoever reads it when you're facing hurtful people <3

Warnings: none, comfort only !!! Buttt maybe a bit of hate and language ? Small breakdown ?

Masterlist

It rang through your brain constantly. You couldn't get rid of those same words. Over. And over. Miko had noticed this change in you, she didn't know what was exactly going on but today she decided to get it out of you. You were drifting from her, it hurt her as she missed you. You knew the 'perks' of being with someone in the public eye, it wasn't as easy as you had thought. You were so confident that any hate you got you'd be able to handle it, ignore it even. Boy were you wrong. It kept on going, nonstop of how you didn't deserve her, how they'd be better. That, you could handle. You knew miko chose you for a reason. She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be. But it started getting more brutal. Little details you even hated about yourself, they'd mention it.

Then it got to the worst of the worst kind of hate. The 'kill yourself' and so on. It was getting to you near the end. You couldn't handle it anymore.

As you sat watching TV, you couldn't stop thinking about this one message you got. "Miko is just sorry for you, she doesn't love you, I mean look at yourself. You don't belong here or even in this world at that point. Go kill yourself." It played in your mind all day, a little voice chanting it. You couldn't let the last part consume you, but you were beginning to let it just happen. We're they truly right? It was tricking your brain into thinking it was. All the voices, all the messages. You couldn't think properly. You get a tap on your shoulder, it was Miko. She was finally home. You look at her, a bit startled but your expression changed back to its gloomy self.

Although you didn't look sad per say, your demeanor was cold, off-putting. "What's up with you lately?" She just asks at random. You furrow your brows, keeping looking at her. "What do you mean?" Fiddling with your fingers, you kept looking at her. But you couldn't bare it. "You've been so distant, have I done something?" She wonders, sitting beside you. You just shake your head. "So is there something?" Now you look to the side, such a stupid give away but you could feel tears pooling and you didn't want to look stupid. She gently grabs your face, and you curse because when she does a warm liquid comes down your face.

There was no stopping them, they had been bottled up inside for far too long. "Shhh, talk to me." She brings you close rubbing your hair. "Please? Im really worried." She continues speaking, doing her same actions. You couldn't form words, you sob and sob. But her sweet heart understands completely, she takes her time with you. Knowing that whatever it was wasn't easy. Gentle touches on your hair and your cheek as you rest your head on her should. Your crying had subsidied thankfully. Your eyes stung so you just closed them. "Want to tell me what's up mama?" Her tone was soft, and comforting. "I've, been getting quite a lot of messages.." You spoke quietly, feeling your throat hurt also. Having let so much emotion out you were just genuinely tired. "What messages love?" A sigh escapes your lips. You grab your phone to just show her as it'd be easier.

She reads everything, comments, dms, posts. It hurt her, not only were they being cruel to the woman she loved, but her own fans. "It's so hurtful." Your quiet voice speaks up. "I know, I know.." She sighs now. "You don't deserve any of this, you've hardly been in anything anyway, this is so disgusting." You hated the fact she was still reading the stuff, you could see how upset she was about the whole situation. You grab your phone gently, setting it aside. "I didn't want to worry or upset you-" She shakes her head. "I'm glad you told me. Although I wish you would've done it a bit sooner, I'm glad I know now." You nod. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you til now." She kisses your forehead. "I chose you for a reason, none of these hating loosers." You smile as she speaks a small laugh coming out of you. "There she is." Shes the one smiling now, you blush at her words. "Keep that, it suits you." She refers to your smile. "Oh Miko. How'd I get so lucky." You put your head back onto her shoulder.

"How did I get so lucky with you." She rubs your arm, as a comfortable silence approaches. "Don't listen to them from now on yeah? And if there's anymore, please tell me. Its no good keeping it to yourself like that." You nod and smile at her. "I'm glad you chose me." "I'm glad I chose you too my angel."

[milkzoro]

backrooms

warnings: MDNI, gore, sadism, dark content, surgery, blood, organs, fucking open wounds, non-con?

minors do not read. please look at warnings.

summary: a doctor does unnecessary surgery on you.

☆彡

“where am i.” your heart shook with each second passing by.

it’s so cold and the room smells thick, like mildew and cleaner, you were almost suffocating. endless hallways formulate as you’re running faster. was there really no end?

someone’s here though. you heard it, a voice calling out a number, “238,, 238?……… shit.” it echoed over and over again, what are these numbers?

the white walls and tiles didn’t seem bright at all, the lighting in the atmosphere was dim, lights flickering the deeper you went.

footsteps… rubber soles squeaked against the ground.

“238? now why are you out here by yourself, let’s get you back to your table.” he handled you with care, effortlessly moving you with him. you wanted to retaliate but was unable too.

the man, or… doctor?, towered over you. his presence scared you but something allowed you to make eye contact with him. his eyes glowed yellow. he was not smiling, there wasn’t any sort of emotion lingering in his face.

you felt tightness suffocating you,, moments’s like this were fabricating out of thin air. these tattered and dirty restraints, the doctor did not put these on you. buckles tucked your arms tightly behind your back, you were choking on your words, unable to speak.

why am i in restraints? what is he doing?

“a-are you my doctor?”

“no.” he continued to lead you towards ‘your room’.

you walked in front of him, feeling his presence guiding you to the correct room. his eyes were glued to you and you dared not to look back. your eyes squinted tightly as panic starts to set in.

the empty walls felt like an additional restraint weight on you, not one aspect of this place was comforting. there was a door though, it appeared after, what it seemed like, hours of aimlessly walking.

“we’re back, let’s get you on the table.” he assisted you and you settled on the cold surface, unsure of what to do next. hinges and rummaging sounds filled the room, hearing a final ‘snap’ of his gloves as he turned back to you. he briefly looked at a document before turning his attention back to you.

“hmm, y/n-ya? i have a lot planned today, there’s something i’ve been wanting. and you’re my lucky guest.”

with your arms still tied behind your back he reaches his gloved hand up to your lips.

terror consumed your face. “please! what are you gonna to do me?”

he looked so evil standing before you. his lips curled into a smirk before answering. “hmm i’m gonna cut you up, play with ya a little bit.”

you froze.

“open up, it would be beneficial if you would swallow this for me. say ahh-”

you didn’t trust this man but there was no way you could make it out of here on your own, maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel if you just comply.

without a word, you open your mouth for the doctor.

“can i ask what that was?”

“ketamine.”

“…”

“it’s like an anesthetic, keep you calm, the pain will be pleasant okay y/n-ya, don’t worry darling. i’ll fix you up after.”

~

you laid still on the table, the effects of the drug taking over your body.

you could barely move, your finger tips traced along the edge of the table to make sure you could still move. not much but there was still a little bit of feeling there, and you noticed your restraints were off as well.

the room now had a glow to it, it felt dream-like. ahh yes this is just only a dream. a soft smile came to your lips while your mind chilled out.

“you’re being so obedient, y/n-ya, thank you. gonna get started okay.”

~

he heard soft whines from you as his blade sliced effortlessly through the first layer of your skin, seeing the scarlet liquid made his eyes sparkle. he cut two deep cuts to test the waters. one placed on top of your right thigh and one smaller on your abdomen, right below your belly button. you were hardly moving. maybe he had given you too much.

“can you speak y/n-ya?” there was a tinge of concern in his voice.

you were unresponsive.

he sighed, he wanted to hear you. but the sight before him made his cock twitch. your parted lips, red liquid pooling around your body, you looked so beautiful.

he couldn’t wait, his cuts were astonishing, like he was proud of his work. they weren’t deep enough though, he had to do some removing..

the scalpel shined under the dim light as his prepared his section. his blade making a fine line of a cut around the width of your thigh. small beads of crimson gathered before he wiped them away, he cut deeper.

it felt never ending, going through layers of skin, fat, muscle and eventually bone. he was finished, eyes filled with desire as he hurried to clean up his workspace. he properly conserved your severed limb. now for the hole.

there was a perfectly snug pocket that was already naturally within the thigh. it rested between the biceps femoris and the intermuscular septum, those were two main muscles and they connected with a soft, fatty tissue that easily broke away with light pressure.

he wiped his hands clean before removing a condom from his lab coat pocket. his hands were trembling with excitement.

the doctor was too impatient, his cock hardened with every sight of you. he took one last look at you before lining himself up with your sciatic nerve. he sighed heavily as he pushed all the way in. feeling your nerves and tendons pop against his shaft made his eyes roll back. “f-fuck.”

he began to slowly fuck himself into your thigh once he felt the tension of tissue melt away. pumping in and out as red liquid squirted onto the operating table. loud groans filled the space, he was so close, but he needed something from you.

he continued his deep thrusts as he shoved two of his fingers into another open hole in your thigh. it was another nerve, this one controlled your movements. he needed to see you writhe in pain.

his long fingers scissored and curled inside your tissues, pushing up and swirling trying to get you to move.

“c‘mon y/n-ya…” his breaths were shallow, he was near his high.

your right leg started to spasm and squirm under the doctors touch. he even stole some groans from you. the pain must be unbearable.

his head fell back as he heard those sweet whines from you. your severed thigh jolted against him causing him to fuck your hole deeper.

“fuckk just like that haah-“ his moans grew more and more sporadic as the heat in his lower abdomen grew stronger.

the blood and fluids made it so so slippery, it was hard to manage his thrusts but fuckk he was enjoying every second of it.

his eyes tightened as he felt his orgasm taking over. one last look at your emotionless face had him there, rutting recklessly into your broken down tissues. he whined and panted, one last pump sent him over the edge.

“shit! fuck. fuck—. fuuuck.” his words were drawn out as he came down from his high, lazily pulling himself out and removing his gloves and ruined condom.

only one limb down and he gets to play with you for hours. how lucky is he.

‘please just wake up soon.’ he wanted to feel your cunt while your were conscious.