#i felt like i knew something xD

[whyoneartheven]

suddenly I have realized my bad habit of procrastinating has become a nearly debilitating fear

[dragonsoulage]

How they eat it…

feat. Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer

They love it, they are addicted, they just can’t get enough of you and your pretty heaven down there. How eager they all are to just eat you up…

Hello friendos, here we are the next smutty smut I am uploading 👀💀 this time I felt like the AoT men deserved some attention or more like we deserved their attention xD so just have fun reading it 🤌🏻💕

Warnings: pūssy eating, face sitting, use of pet names, overstimulating

Wordcount: 4K

Levi Ackerman ~ The feral and mean captain

When you came in his office, like you did every day, as a good girlfriend, you didn't think you would end up sprawled out on his desk.

Not that this wouldn't have happened before. But he said he was hungry, little did you know, the only thing he was hungry for, was the paradise between your legs.

Not many things get off of his mind, it was so rare that he actually found time to relax.

Time to stop thinking, but hell, his brain stopped working on every heavy thought as soon as he had you on his tongue.

Tongue lapping at your pulsing pussy, hands around your thighs, holding you firm in place.

"Stop wiggling around so much, brat." he murmured between his ministrations.

Tongue laid flat against your cunt before licking up and then circling your swollen nub. It made your legs grew shaky every time he did that. And looked up at you, steel blue eyes, locked onto yours, not only did he devoured your delicious pussy, your very soul left your body when he looked at you like this.

Feral, you could tell he was so feral about your pussy.

No matter if he is actually inside you, feeling like the best place on earth, or if it's his tongue that danced around your sensitive flesh.

"Levi, I-I can't help, it's too much." you whimpered, and you were such a whiny slut for the captain. Even if you said it was too much, he knew you enjoyed it, the way you felt so hot on his mouth. Always these crashing orgasms he gave you, when he just couldn't stop, eating you out in the most feral way possible.

When Levi was hungry, he really was, and you shouldn't stop him from eating his meal

You heard a husky chuckle, what send vibrations through your pussy, made you clench around nothing.

"Too much? Always so whiny, but this pussy tells me otherwise, love." he answered you, before you felt his tongue wiggling his way inside.

And the sight, Levi's eyes rolled back, a groan was heard. Nearly as if this was even more satisfying than actual fucking you. Your taste addicting to him, your hands had found their way in his hair. Gently tugging on the raven black strands. His hands keeping you in place.

„You have some good pussy don't you?" it was not like he expected you to say anything, but shit, this pussy had him whipped. Face buried nose deep inside your sweet pussy.

All you could do was moan, heavy eyelids shutting because you felt the next organs approaching. Indeed, he used his whole lunch break to eat.

Even when the meal was your perfect pussy on his desk. „Do I, or are you just saying this because you are literally feral now?" you were able to say something in a complete sentence. Making him a little surprised. He stopped shortly, looking up at you, his lips glossy from your juices. Running down his chin. His look hard as usual, but with a certain spark in his eyes when it came to you.

He took one hand from your thighs, just to smear your slick arousal over your puffy clit, making you shudder nicely for him.

Maybe you had been too bold to tell him he is feral, as if he would not know that your taste was his weakness. But he could eat you out until his jaw hung slack, just to see you squirm.

„Feral? Says the one who is literally shoving my face towards her cute cunt." he pointed out gruffly, his thumb spreading your lower lips just a little.

He smirked before spitting right onto your sopping wet folds.

„You make it not easy with the way you eat-„ you were interrupted by a sudden swat right onto your precious cunt. Making you whine, looking at your captain with such needy eyes, eyes that pleaded for mercy.

„When you really want it feral, love... I do should use the last 10 minutes of my break and making you cum onto my face. Just so you clean up your mess." he saw it now as challenge, and before you could even discuss his tongue swirled around your swollen clit with such a precise movement. These probably would be the longest 10 minutes you would endure to cuming.

Eren Yeager ~ The unfair tease

„You are such a sloppy girl." you heard him chuckle before these wet noises and slurping sounds were heard. When Eren eats, you are literally not easy off the hook. Your legs dangling over his shoulders, eyes solemnly focused on this pink slit between your thighs.

Hands around your thighs loosely, because he just loved when you wiggled your snug cunt more into his face.

„You are just so damn pretty down here." Eren spoke in awe before his tongue flicked your small bundle of nerves. Then capturing it with his sheeny lips and sucked on it. Making your back arch and moan. „P-pretty?" was all you could ask before your head landed in the pillows again. Feeling his long hair tickling your thighs.

Although, your hot boyfriend was quite the vision. His brown hair framing his face with some strands, even when the most was in a small man bun. And the teal green eyes first looking at you, and how delicious you squirmed before they focused on the heaven between your legs.

„Well, a pretty girl, is pretty in all places." he replied to you against your heated flesh. Every time he ate you out, he made some breaks to justify teasing you. From licking all up and down your slit to simply kissing your outer lips with a cute ‚mwah'. His lips sheeny with all the slick from your pussy.

It was nearly torture, when he took his sweet time withe you, teasing and kissing, licking everywhere but not where you needed.

Just to watch how you bucked up your hips. Squirming in his grasp.

"Eren...'s not fair when you..." you tried to tell him that you wanted his mouth back on you.

You heard a chuckle from between your legs, and then his eyes darting up to look into your pretty face, your cheeks flushed to red, this cute needy expression.

"Oh, it's not fair to have such a perfect cunt, baby." he said to you low and husky, before leaning his head against your thigh, parting your thighs just a little more.

Thumbs coming up your outer lips to expose that sweet, swollen pearl that had you gasping for air when he touched it.

"Come on, be a good girl and be patient, still not done with her." Eren let you know before kissing your thigh, and then you got what you wanted.   

His hot flexible muscle inside your sopping wet cunt, wiggling his way inside you, groaning at your taste and how your juices flowed into his mouth.

When he eats, he eats nasty, wanting everything from you. Having your thighs quivering.

Having his sweet princess moan so pretty and with her hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

No matter if you were a shy one or not, the fact he wanted that you tugged and pulled on him, just so his tongue could delve deeper. He liked hair pulling, not matter if it was yours or his.

"Is this fair enough to you, sweetheart?" he asked you in between before you looked down, his eyes closed shut, just to savor your taste, his favorite meal after a long day.

He could spend hours between your thighs.

Jaw locked and tensed, and still he would be hungry for more. Would eating you out until you begged him to stop.

In general, he loved having his girl sprawled out for him, always getting you so wet without his cock in the near of your pussy.

And when you were sloppy enough for his taste, only then he freed his thick length, coating himself in your juices, making you whine even more.

How his tip would always brush over your sensitive clit, nearly shoving in before dodging. 

He was a merciless tease to you, just like now.... Fucking you with his tongue, only his tongue.

Making you all the cute noises and these squelches of your pussy, the way he slurped up every drop, it had him hooked.

The way he holds open your thighs, when he felt them shaking.

Just eagerly burying his head even more in your pussy. The pink tip of his tongue circled your clit again, before he snickered, after he heard that needy whine.

"Please Eren, am I not wet enough for you?" you pleaded head on the pillows and so needy, you wanted to cum so badly. But he always stopped before you had the slightest chance to ride that wave.

"Oh, you are dripping, babygirl. And I just love that...just a little more." he murmured before you felt his nose brushed your clit and his tongue was inside you.... It will still take some time until he would give you his dick you wanted so much.  

Armin Arlert ~ The greedy boy

"Keep going baby, grind that...ah grind that perfect pussy on my face." his smooth voice urged you, hands on your hips trying to move them for you.

Armin was always like a lovesick puppy as soon as he had his girl's pussy on his mouth.

Eager to lick up every drop from you, tasting every sweet release he could coax out of your breathless form.

You were a goddess for this boy, when eating you out, he just loved it when you rode his face.

Your pristine cunt smashing down his face, suffocating him so he could just die happy.

He knew he would, breathing you in and his skilled tongue, it made you feel like you were on cloud 9.

One of your hands, in his blonde hair, massaging his scalp and you were panting, whimpering.

Even when you were on top, and technically in charge, Armin was greedy.

"You are such a greedy boy, baby." you tried to speak, brows knit together as you felt slowly the next orgasm building up. Large hands went down to your ass, grabbing your soft flush, just to pull you even closer.

Hot tongue wiping so shamelessly over your clit, making you shudder, so he heard this cute noise again. And Armin? O hell he was gone, sky blue eyes fluttered open just to be able to catch a glimpse how you rode his face so elegant. 

For him, you were so beautiful, and it was a privilege that you allowed him to taste you.

Addicted to your taste, your pussy was just so sweet to him, honey from the most delicious ambrosia.

His cute kisses in between, when you could listen how wet his pressed a kiss right onto your swollen nub.

"You are just so, pretty. Such a pretty girl. Tasting sooo good." he praised you, always told you what your self-worth needed, always telling you how perfect you were to him. 

Your hips stuttered slightly, when your eyes rolled back, trying now more urgently to move back and forwards, your slick all smearing over his face, dripping down his chin. And he loved it, such a messy boy in bed.

You grabbed his hands, easing them from your ass, leading them right to your tits, he groaned, loved how good your tits fit into his hands. You were made for him, he was sure about this.

No matter what a big brain Armin had, sometimes he still couldn't explain why you were so satisfied with him, that you loved him...

"You are just too good to me, my good boy. You are my good boy, aren't you." you asked him, grabbing his hair just a little tighter now, as you then looked down.

What you saw... Armin, a total mess, literally whimpering just because your pussy was on his tongue.

A cute pink shade you could see over his nose and how hungry he devoured your cunt. His eyes reflecting with that pure need to satisfy you, over and over, wanting your praise.

How hard it was not to just beg you to ride his dick, because when you turned your head around, his neatly tugged away member was pulsing in his pants.

How you already could see he was leaking pre-cum, so, so much. You were sure when this would go on, Armin would just be cuming from eating you out.

His dick throbbing with so much contained need.

"I'm your good boy, ma'am." he replied before you heard that needy whimper, when he squeezed your tits, responding to the way you grabbed his head and pushed him nose deep inside your wet pussy.   

You felt just so hot, so damn wet, just because he made these puppy eyes when pleasing you. That he found more pleasure in fucking his tongue inside your sloppy hole, to have you moaning because of him, than anything else.

Calling you ma'am because it turned you on, he could be so submissive, although when you allowed, shit he grew all feral over you.

You leaned just a little back, grabbing his throbbing member that was still covered from his beige pants.

And when you did, he whined, making your pussy clench in response.

"Shit, Armin, you are so hard." you murmured, you would be so ready to ride him, to move your talented hips in circles making his head spin.   

When you wanted to pull away your addicting nectar from him, you didn't think you would have to deal with him, because no matter how desperate he was to spill his load, he wanted to make his girl cum first.

He was greedy, the future commander of Paradis, so greedy when it came to your pussy.

His elegant hands hastily grabbing your waist, just to glue you to his mouth.

"Not yet, want you to cum on my face first, pretty." he said to you, and there you heard this slight demanding edge in his voice, he served you but when he wanted something so bad he would make it clear....a submissive commander, just so eager to wiggle his tongue back inside your tight walls.

And when you heard his tone, it made your pussy flutter...

He did such good work, having you soon squirting all over his face, just to slurp up your juices and the having you propped up on his thick cock....  

Jean Kirstein ~ The sloppy and filthy gentleman

Jean, was just so into it, when he ate your pussy, he really ate. He made out with your lower parts, giving it a nice smooch, before spitting so sloppy down on it.

He was nasty, and he weren't even ashamed of it.

"So fucking sweet, baby, you are just so sweet. Can't believe you made me wait all day..." he started to speak just to interrupt himself with laying his tongue flat against your slit, to lick it up oh, so slowly before pressing a kinda tender kiss against your pulsating clit.

"...to fucking taste you, it should be a crime for refusing me access to this, treasure." Jean ended his sentence, and well he liked to babble when he was so focused on your cunt.

Dirty blonde hair messy, because you had tangled your fingers in it.

Your chest heaving because he was so mean when eating pussy, although he never denied you your orgasms, no...he made it worse, urging you to cum on him, just to spray your syrupy juices all over his handsome face.   

"Stop saying my pussy is a...fuck, babe." you wanted to complain, although it never was serious, trying to get him out of his hazy way to wipe his long tongue over your clit.

But as an answer, he just spit onto your pussy, smearing his saliva from your sensitive nub right down your clenching hole. Aching to be filled with him, and the noise you made?

Oh, that was so adorable how you chocked on your whimper. How your fingers grabbed his hair tighter.

"Let a gentleman enjoy his meal, darling. Otherwise, it's not nice, and you want to be a nice girl, for me, right?" he replied, but eyes focused on the spot between your thighs.

His thumb, just slightly teasing you, with sliding in just a tiny little bit, making your hips buck up, trying to get more, more, more.

He was anything but a gentleman right now, eating your pussy so messy, making out with it as if his life would depend on.

Groaning and rolling back his golden eyes. He could get drunk like this, without even needing whiskey.

"Please... I-I be a nice girl. Just...don't tease, I need you, Jean." you moaned so sweet, he loved hearing you like this. 

His sweet girl, so needy and stuttering. Pussy just dripping onto his tongue, your candied nectar, everything he needed. Before you felt how, he just parted your outer lips a little more, exposing your clit to the cold air.

"Look at that, you are throbbing down here, so cute. How should I stop, giving her the attention she deserves?" Jean spoke out loud his thoughts, not even being ashamed he talked about your pussy. Blowing cold air over your heated flesh, making you hiss in response.

Tugging on his hair with a little more force. You were a nice girl, mostly. But he drove you crazy when he couldn't stop talking.

"Jean!" you repeated his name, but you just saw how his glossy lips closed around your nub, sucking it in and making your toes curl.

Flicking his pointy tongue over it, making you feel so high, you nearly could taste your next orgasm.   

And Jean was so dirty, he sneaked one hand down his body, inside his pants, he was just so hard because of you.

So hard because of the way you responded to his touch. He kept his lips sealed around your clit for a further moment, sucking hard, making you gasp. Giving his balls a good squeeze.

His large hand wrapped around his length, feeling up and down his veiny shaft, while eating out his girl. Making him groan into you, what send a pleasant vibration through your core.

"Fuck, can't help when you are so delicious, gorgeous. Tell me, how much you want me to split you open, darling." he murmured husky before his tongue was back inside you, stroking your inner wall in such a precise perfection, it made you cry out.

Thighs shaking, and it didn't help when you looked down and saw that he was touching himself.

Jean was your tall, hot boyfriend, with literally the perfect dick, and he touched himself because he couldn't wait.

His thumb stroking over his leaking tip, no matter how composed he always seemed, how cool.

He was leaking and desperate for you, wanting all your juices in his mouth, down his chin. 

You tried to think straight, but it was all gone when his tongue was inside you and his nose brushed against your clit, all while he fucked his hand to you.

"Want...ahh want you to fuck me, honey." you manage to choke out, and this had him so gone, feeling his dick throbbing in his hands, hastily pulling your one thigh more apart to have that better access, to nuzzle his face in your pussy.

So you felt his light beard tickle your soft inner thighs, making the sensation all the better, making you whimper.

And this was the moment, he would do anything he can just so you cum right in his mouth, squirting your essence on his tongue so he could make you fall apart on his dick right after that...

Connie Springer ~ The chaotic talker

When he ate you out, it was chaotic. Although it nearly seemed like he purred when he felt your hands ran through his short hair, not enough to actually pull on it but enough to ran your fingertips through it so lovingly.

Although Connie had a pace, it made you anything different from crying and being an overstimulated mess, so your thighs were always shaking so cute.

"Stay still, baby." he said to you, trying to keep your legs in his grasp, before pulling you closer to his eager mouth.

Literally nuzzling his head into your puffy folds, tongue exploring every crease and crevice of your pussy, and he never got bored by it.

"When you...ahh when you go that fast I can't do much about it." you replied to him shortly looked down and saw how his yellow eyes glint up at you, oh he lived for eating pussy.   

No matter what treats he could have, you were his favorite.

Connie weren't a submissive one, not always at least, although he couldn't help when you were on top of him. But he lived for your praise, he loved to see you fall apart because of him.

Always think he weren't a great looker, not like you. Sometimes not really getting the fact he was able to pull you, a hot girl, a sweet girl, everything he wanted.

Always needing to prove it to himself that he could make you feel good.   

"But you enjoy it, sweetheart. I know you do, otherwise your little needy pussy wouldn't be clenching around nothing." he chuckled and then took a moment to look down, just to see you clench, with a following snicker.

"As I told, you can't make your pussy lie, pretty." he said before diving back in, holding your spread legs open for him.

Propped between them, kissing your lips down there over and over again.

When you looked down you saw how his tongue flicked out eagerly lapping up your slick, you were dripping for him and he enjoyed it.

Maybe even more than you, he ached to be inside you, but he worked on his impatience, besides he never could leave his girl needy on his tongue, could he?

"She is so responsive for me, isn't she." he whispered against your cunt, and you just whimpered, he loved the filthy pussy talk.

Even when you laid there, with a heaving chest, just finally wanting to cum, but he teased, made you so wet and hot, that you were the impatient.   

"So wet, so damn sweet. Hmmm...need to get her to talk a little more for me." Connie spoke before he just got a little up from his place, hovering over you, taking in your flushed state.

Your kiss bitten lips from making out with him, the way your top was halfway down because he just couldn't get enough of groping your tits when making out, this was what got him worked up in the first place.

Eyes wandering down to your pretty pink pussy. He tilted his head, why not trying a different angle?

And alone on the way he looked at you, you could see his brain cells working.

"Connie, what you are about to do?" you asked him, trying to catch your breath, and all you earned was a crooked smile.

Then he grabbed you, hands sliding down your creamy skin on your thighs, down to your ass. Grabbing the soft flesh, giving it a good measured squeeze.

Before he pulled you toward him, bringing your legs up to him, holding up your lower back so you were propped on your shoulders down the mattress.

"Switching things up, love. Got the feeling you would cum real good like this." he replied, holding you so secure in his hands before kissing your ankle, and then lowering his head.   

His knees dig into the plush mattress of the bed, your hips bucking upwards, you felt a little embarrassed in this position, but it felt good, when Connie fucked his tongue inside your needy hole, before just spitting down on your cunt.

"Yeah that's it...you like it when I do this right?" he talked, holding you on your thighs up.

All you could do was whine and nod, but you weren't aware that he wasn't talking to you.

"Shhh, baby, talking to m other pretty girl here. Listen how good I make her feel." he just shhhd you, talking to your pussy, licking over your clit, what made you close your eyes shut.

"You talk to...never mind." you then decided to just take it as it was, his tongue feeling too good to question anything, your pussy drunk boyfriend said.

[wandasgirl69]

milky —

paring(s): mommy!wanda X female!reader

word count: 2.5k

tags | content: mommy wanda, needy reader, age gap, mommy kink, breastfeeding kink, inspection kink, breeding kink, possessive wanda, Wanda has a magic cock??, lactation, slapping, soft but also rough? let me know if i missed any!

A/N: this is my first ever fic XD, inspired by my girl (yes, this fic is actually about us). let me know if i made any mistakes! i'm super nervous to post this lol, hope you guys like it ;)

As you looked up at the towering office building from your car, a gnawing feeling twisted in your stomach. You knew you shouldn’t be here. She was at work, probably buried in paperwork, too busy to entertain your selfish needs. But you couldn’t help it. Ever since your girlfriend started her induced lactation journey, nothing else could satisfy you. Nothing else could quench the craving clawing at your insides.

Before you even realized it, you were out of the car, your body moving on instinct. The lobby doors slid open, and you stepped inside, barely registering the soft chime of the elevator as you pressed the button for her floor. Your foot tapped anxiously against the polished tile, impatience thrumming through you. The morning had been unbearably long, your classes leaving you restless and on edge. You needed something to soothe you, to fill you, and that something was her.

The elevator dinged open. Your breath caught as you stepped forward and saw her—large glasses perched on her beautiful face, eyebrows scrunched in deep concentration. She was focused, completely absorbed in whatever document she held, her lips slightly parted as she read. For a fleeting moment, you considered turning around, leaving before she even noticed you. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came. You couldn’t. Not when you were this desperate, this needy.

Her eyes lifted from the page, widening in surprise when she saw you. “What are you doing here?” she asked, setting her papers down. Concern flickered across her face. “Is something wrong?”

You swallowed hard, stepping closer, your fingers twitching at your sides. “I just” You exhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself, but the ache inside you was unbearable. “I need you.” Her lips parted slightly as she studied you, taking in the way your body tensed, the way you shifted on your feet like you couldn’t stand still. A quiet understanding settled in her gaze.

“You came all this way…” she murmured, almost to herself, before sighing softly. She pushed her chair back and stood, smoothing down her blouse. Then, she reached for your hand, her grip firm and warm.

“Come with me,” she said, leading you down the hall.

She glanced around, checking for prying eyes, before stopping in front of a door. The baby room. Without another word, she opened it, ushering you inside before locking it behind her. Your gaze immediately dropped to her blouse, the soft swell of her breasts practically spilling out of the low V-neck. She had known the moment you stepped out of the elevator. The way you couldn’t keep still, the desperation in your eyes. She knew her baby needed her.

 Her eyes flickered around the room before landing on the small couch in the corner—just big enough for the two of you. She took your hand and led you over. Sitting down, she pulled you onto her lap without hesitation.

“sit.” she murmured, guiding you into position effortlessly.

Your body relaxed as you leaned into her, your cheek resting against her chest. The sweet, comforting scent of vanilla wrapped around you like a soft blanket, familiar and soothing. You inhaled deeply, the fragrance mingling with the steady rhythm of her breathing, grounding you in the moment. She held you for a moment, letting the silence settle, her fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against your back, as if savoring the feeling of having you close. Then, with practiced ease, she shifted beneath you. You felt her pulse quicken as her hands slipped to the hem of her blouse, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion. The fabric fell to the side, forgotten, leaving only the lacy barrier of her bra between you and what you so desperately needed.

She exhaled softly, reaching behind herself, and in the next second, her bra joined the pile. Freed from the constraints, her breasts spilled forward, full and heavy, the scent of warm vanilla deepening as she pulled you in again.

Her fingers laced through your long hair, nails grazing your scalp in a way that made you shiver. She hummed, barely above a whisper, her voice warm and affectionate.

"I love your hair," she murmured, twisting a strand between her fingers.

You looked up at her,“I love you,” you whispered, voice small, needy.

Her expression softened as she cupped your cheek. “I know, baby. I love you too.”

She guided your face gently to her exposed breast, her thumb parting your lips as your face inched closer to what you really needed. The moment your lips wrapped around her nipple, warmth flooded your mouth. Sweet and rich. Her milk spilled effortlessly down your throat, coating your tongue, filling you with the comfort and satisfaction you had been aching for.

You let out a quiet moan, your arms wrapping around her waist. “You taste so good,” you mumbled between suckles, voice thick with need.

She hummed in response, stroking your hair. “I’m always here for you, baby.”

You buried your face deeper into her chest, wanting more, needing more. “I missed you today,” you admitted softly, your voice muffled against her skin. “I couldn’t focus in class. I kept thinking about you.”

A gentle chuckle rumbled in her chest. “Is that so?”

You nodded, nuzzling against her. “Mhm. I needed you so bad. Needed this.”

She sighed, tilting your chin up so you could meet her gaze. “Then take what you need, sweetheart. Mommy’s got you and it’s all yours.”

A desperate whimper escaped you as you latched back on, drinking her in, lost in her warmth. You stayed like that, utterly consumed by her, until there was nothing left.

When one side ran dry, you instinctively shifted to the other, latching on with the same desperation, the same insatiable need. She let you, her fingers never ceasing their gentle strokes through your hair, her body relaxing beneath you as she gave you everything.

But eventually, there was no more to give.

A soft sigh left her lips as she cupped your face once again, this time easing you away. The moment you felt her pulling back, a whimper bubbled up in your throat, followed by quiet, breathy complaints. Your lips parted, searching, longing, but she only hushed you, pressing a soothing kiss to your forehead.

“I know, sweetheart,” she murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “I know.”

You pouted, shifting in her lap, pressing your forehead against hers. “I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted.

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know, baby. But you have class, and I have work.”

You sighed, nuzzling into her again, reluctant. “Five more minutes?”

“Five more minutes,” she agreed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Her fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns down your spine, but there was a knowing smirk playing at her lips. She tutted softly, her nails grazing over your back in feather-light strokes, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, sweetheart…” she murmured, her voice thick with amusement. Her hand drifted lower, pausing just long enough to make your heart skip a beat. “It seems my baby girl might need an inspection.”

Her hand ghosted lower, resting just above your hip, her touch featherlight but deliberate. “We can’t have you making such a mess, now can we?”

You whined softly, nuzzling deeper into her chest, the warmth of her skin and the lingering taste of her milk keeping you in a blissful haze.

“Uh-huh…” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper, still completely lost in her presence. Your mind felt fuzzy, Every inch of you felt weightless, floating in the aftermath of satisfaction, yet still tethered to the aching need that simmered just beneath the surface.

Her hand slipped lower, fingertips barely grazing your waist, teasing, testing. “I should really check, shouldn’t I?” she mused, more to herself than to you, though she knew you’d agree. “Make sure you’re taken care of properly.”

She shifted, adjusting you carefully, holding you like something fragile, something precious. “Let me see, baby,” she whispered, her voice sweet and coaxing, as if she weren’t already certain of what she’d find. She gently tugged your trousers and panties down, the fabric sliding smoothly over your skin as she pulled them off, adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor. 

As she did, her lips trailed a path of soft, gentle kisses across your thighs, the tender touch sending shivers through your body. With a gentle tug, she pulled you closer, her hands guiding your legs apart as she settled between them, her eyes fixed on the sight before her. Your legs spread wide, she gazed at your cunt, drinking in the sight of your soaked and swollen flesh, lips glistening with wetness as she took in the evidence of your arousal. 

"You're dripping, baby," she whispered, her voice husky with desire, as she reached out a finger to gently touch your soaked lips. You moaned, your hands instinctively reaching out to touch her, to pull her closer, but she tutted, a sly smile spreading across her face. " It's just an inspection," she reminded you, her eyes glinting with amusement, as she continued to examine you, her fingers probing and exploring your wet flesh. 

You knew it was a lie, that she couldn't resist you for much longer. You could see the desire in her eyes, the way her pupils seemed to dilate as she gazed at your cunt, and you knew it wouldn't be long before she gave in, before her thick cock would be buried deep inside you. 

"Please, mommy. I need you inside. Please" you practically begged. She smiled, her eyes gleaming with amusement, as she replied "Well, since you're so needy. Maybe I can do an inside inspection". 

As she spoke, she tugged her own pants down. You watched, your heart racing, as she revealed her thick hard length, you couldn't help but moan, your cunt throbbing with desire. "Please, mommy," you whispered again, your voice barely audible. She reached out, guiding her cock towards your waiting cunt, the head pressing against your wet folds, rubbing back and forth, before slowly beginning to push inside. 

"Fuck. You always feel so tight," she said as she kept your legs wide open, her hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place while she sheathed her cock in your cunt fully. The feeling was too much, no sound escaped your throat. You felt so full, so hers. She then thrusted, her cock sliding in and out of your cunt with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You felt your walls clinging to her, squeezing her tight, as she filled you completely, her thick length stretching you to the limit.

Wanda held your waist, her grip tight and possessive, she kept her movements fast, her cock driving deep into your cunt with a rapid, pounding rhythm. At the same time, she reached out to play with your now perky nipples, her fingers pinching and tweaking them, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. "You're such a needy baby," she whispered "Can't even take one inspection right." 

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, as she continued to thrust into you, her cock driving deep into your cunt. But then, she leaned in close, her voice taking on a warning tone, as she whispered "Shhh, baby, you need to keep quiet. Remember where we are." Her words were a stark reminder of the secrecy surrounding your encounter, and the need for discretion.

 "You wouldn't want anyone to catch us now, would you?" she added as she gazed into your hazy eyes. The thought sent a shiver through your body, as you realized the risks you were taking, the potential consequences of being discovered. You tried to stifle your moans, to quiet your cries of pleasure, your eyes locked onto hers, and you nodded, barely able to contain your sounds of pleasure, as she continued to pound into you, her movements slow and deliberate, her cock going deeper with each thrust. 

"Just like that, baby. Keep quiet for mommy." she murmured as she continued to thrust into you, her voice thick with approval and something darker, more possessive. Her hands flexed on your hips, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise as she snapped her hips forward, burying herself inside you to the hilt. You whimpered, high and needy, even as you tried to muffle the sound. 

Her next words were growled into the curve of your neck, hot and filthy, her voice wrecked with desire. "You only deserve for your pussy to be ruined, my cum dripping from your folds," she rasped, her cock slamming into you over and over, pushing you closer and closer to the brink. The wet, slapping sound of flesh against flesh filled the small room, mingling with your breathy moans and Wanda's own low grunts of pleasure.

"F-fuck, I'm so close," you whined, your voice drunk on desire, "I need to- I need to cum-" Wanda chuckled darkly, pulling back to look at you, her cock never ceasing its brutal pace. 

"Mmmm, and you know what I need?" she purred, grinding her hips against yours, rubbing right against that perfect spot inside you. You cried out, arching beneath her, your nails digging crescents into her back. 

"To breed me?" you gasped, your walls fluttering, gripping her cock like a vice. "Please, please mommy- breed me, make me yours-" Your words seemed to snap something inside her, and with a snarl, she fisted a hand in your hair, yanking your head back as she delivered a sharp, stinging slap to your ass.

"I'm gonna get you so full of my cum," she promised, her voice guttural "put some babies of my own into your belly. I can't wait to see my slut pregnant”

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna-" Your words cut off with a silent scream as your orgasm crashed over you, walls clenching down on her cock, vision whiting out with the intensity. Wanda was only a second behind you, burying herself to the hilt inside you with a throaty moan, painting your walls white with thick, hot pulses of cum. She groaned, low and wrecked, as she filled you up just like she'd promised, her hips twitching with lingering aftershocks. You floated in a hazy, pleasured daze, the aftershocks of the orgasm still taking a toll on your body. 

As the haze began to clear, you felt Wanda's pace slow, her movements becoming more deliberate as she started to pull out of you. You whimpered, a soft, plaintive sound, and reached out to grab her hips, holding her in place. 

"Stay...please, stay in for just a little bit," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned in close, her hot breath whispering against your skin, hands trailing up and down your still sensitive body, "I'll stay for a little while longer, you're so warm and tight.” 

"Such a good girl," she praised, her voice a gentle caress against your ear. "You did so well, baby," she murmured, her lips brushing softly against your skin. "I'm so proud of you." She pulled you closer, her warmth wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. A deep sense of safety settled in your chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing lulling you into a blissful calm. In her arms, nothing else mattered—just the quiet reassurance that you were hers, cared for, and completely adored.

[lynnsenpai]

You pulled The Rainbow!

A Card in the Trans Girl Trading Card Collection!

This was started by @sadcoldcoffee and @unholytgirl and I loved the idea so much I knew I wanted to make something for it myself. I admit I wasn't clear if I should be using myself or a character of mine, but I felt Rain is probably way more recognizable than I am. XD Anyway, I hope y'all like it!

[ggukgoldensoul]

are you sure?

pairing; idol!jk x reader

timeline; that ep where jm, jk and v are in jeju island in are you sure.

summary; taking advantage that jk is downstairs, she decides to test something.

a/n; hi hi hiiiiiiii, this is my first time writing jk fics, im super excited about this, bts means a lot to me and for me, writing is a form of escapism and mixing both means everything to me. i dont remember clearly what happens in this ep, so im going to write whatever i want xd, love u all tons!!!!!

warnings; pregnancy, insecurity, a little bit of angst, happy ending because i love happy endings, fluff, tae being the good friend he is, jk dilf era begins xd, dunno more.

word count; 1150

the sun rays were making their way through the curtains when jimin decided to wake jungkook from his sleep, behind her, her boyfriend groaned when jimin played a video to wake him.  

“yah! jungkook, wake up you silly bastard” but jungkook hid in her neck trying to forget that jimin was there and that he was trying to move him away from his girl. her eyes flickered but she kept still until she noticed jungkook placed a kiss in her hair, whispering a little i love you. once she heard them go down to the kitchen, she sat up on the bed, her mind going round and round in circles about something she knew she needed to tell jungkook but couldn't bring herself to. not until she knew for certain it was real.

rummaging in the baggage, she took the little box that could change their future forever. not that they hadn't talked about it, but the sting of the doubt and fear was still there and it hurt to think about it. the bathroom door clicked behind her and closed the latch, her hands were trembling but she managed to take the stick, and now she needed to wait.

10 minutes later, with trembling hands, she turned around the stick… two lines… two.lines. she was pregnant. she was going to have a child. she didn't know she was crying until she felt them run down to the t shirt she was wearing. still in a trance, she unlocked the door to the bedroom… and ran into tae. both of them went still, and she wasn't fast enough to hide the pregnancy test, he had already seen it. tae opened his mouth but she took him by the arm and dragged him into the bathroom and locked it.

she would have laughed at his face if she wasn’t so damn nervous with all the situation. tae looked between her and the stick.

“are you going to say something about it?” her voice shivered, she was so nervous, she needed to go out, breath some air and face the consequences. she yelped when tae crushed her into a hug. 

“omg, you are pregnant. you. are. pregnant.” she let out a small laugh and felt like crying again, but happy tears. “yeah, it seems so”

tae broke the hug but his hands were on her shoulders to comfort her. “have you told him?” she shook her head. “why not?”

“because…” she swallowed the lump that had formed on her throat. “im scared, im super scared, what if this ruins everything? what if he doesn’t want this? what if he leaves me all alone with this child? what-”

“hey, hey, hey, stop, stop right there” tae hugged her tightly again “believe me when i tell you that nothing of what you are thinking is going to happen. you know? i’ve never seen anybody love someone the way jungkook loves you, he adores you, if he could he would bring you down the moon, the stars and the galaxy just to see you smile and the fact that you are going to have his child… he is going to love you more if that is possible.” they laughed at that and she cleaned her tears.

“thank you so much taetae”

“no need to thank me” he sighed “omg we need to tell the boys, and expect a phone call of jin screaming and telling you he is going to buy everything in pink”

_____________________________________________

nightfall came and she hadn’t told jungkook yet. 

she wanted to, she really wanted to tell him but it seemed that the universe had other plans. 

she watched them play in the pool and smiled at the thought of a little jungkook playing with them. he or she was going to be the happiest and most loved child in the world. 

a moment later, she decided to go upstairs and watch some tv, replaying some scenarios of what could happen when she told him that they were going to have a child. 

“baabee” jungkook said with a singsong voice. “baabee” she replayed with the same voice and heard him laugh. his laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world. she watched him run up the stairs and throw himself onto the bed. “jungkook! you could have crashed me!”

he laid down on top of her, his head in her stomach. “but i didn’t”

“you could have”

he bit down her skin softly and jungkook heard her laugh and melted at the sound. they stayed like that for a moment, the tv casting a soft glow in the room, her hand traced patterns in his back.

“jungkook-ah”

he hummed.

“i need to tell you something”

he sighed softly. “go on sweetheart”

 she closed her eyes, and took a breath, two, three…

“im pregnant”

jungkook went still.

slowly he lifted his head, his eyes round like balls and his mouth a perfect “o”. her eyes were closed and she was holding her breath, waiting for him to explode, to yell at her, to break up with her, to tell her that he wasn’t going to take care of it…

“are you sure? omg, are you sure? im going to be a dad?”

she opened her eyes to a tearful jungkook. 

she nodded, that was the only thing she could do right now, she couldn’t talk. jungkook laughed and kissed her belly. “hello there, its me, your dad.”

“jungkook, they can't hear you” she said through tears.

“don't listen to your mama. i want you to know that i'm going to take care of you, that i'm going to love you till my last day here.” jungkook looked up and together they laughed and cried. he went up and started to kiss her face, making her giggle. 

“we need to tell the boys, and we need to call our family too, wait here.”

jungkook stood up and ran down shouting.

“hyung! hyung! im going to be a dad!”

and while the three of them laughed and screamed, she laid there, thinking of how grateful she was to have him and the guys by her side.

all rights reserved to ©ggukgoldensoul no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

shout out to @redcherrykook cause she is so nice and she is an inspiration for me to write about him <3

[parasolladyansy]

PLA Mizumi - Mr. Ingo

(Not me wondering if I should post these once a week while I’m trapped in this other AU lol - haven’t touched Chapter 3 yet XD)

From the moment she met him, Mizumi could tell Ingo was different, like her. He treated her more gently, like Professor Laventon or Sasmu, but he also did not fear her, immediately addressing her as the “good miss who fell from the sky”.

For Ingo, Mizumi likewise did not fear him, or think him odd. & something about her felt familiar…nostalgic even. All he knew was that he wanted to look after her, almost as soon as he met her.

Notes:

Meet Victoria, Ingo’s Shiny Ponyta / Rapidash! Mizumi gifted her to him, seeing how drawn he was to her Chandelure-like flames.

Mizumi loved battling Ingo - whether it’s his more “normal” approach to Pokemon & battling, or his poses & gestures, every single battle with him was fun (sometimes I’d log in to the game just to battle & chat with Ingo)

—

🍃 PKMN Legends: Arceus - Mizumi 🍃

<<Previous / Next >>

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[inkspiredwriting]

betrayal

A/N: four stages of breakup, I'm currently in stage two: Anger xD. A sweet story with a sweet five who loves y/n more than anything? At the moment I just don't see it. That's why I don't post any of my stories, but rather write new stories where Five is an asshole. That doesn't mean that I'll never post sweet five x Y/N stories again, it just means that I'm still angry at the moment, and in order to be able to write again, it helps me to let my anger out

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

The world had barely spun for a few hours since Five and Lila had vanished, but when Five and Lila finally returned, Y/N knew something was wrong. she stood in the doorway, watching Five and Lila enter the living room, their faces marked with weariness, their eyes carrying the weight of experiences that no one else could understand. The moment Five met her gaze, Y/N felt her heart clench. Something was wrong. There was a distance in his eyes, a hesitation in his movements that hadn't been there before. This was not the same man she had fallen in love with, the man who had fought tooth and nail to survive countless apocalypses, who had faced the end of the world and returned to her every single time. This man was different—distant, almost as if a part of him had never truly come back.

Lila stood beside him, her presence like a shadow that Y/N couldn’t shake. she had always known Lila was fierce, cunning, and strong, but now she could see something more—a bond between Lila and Five that hadn't been there before. It was in the way they stood, too close, the way they glanced at each other as if sharing secrets. It made Y/N’s stomach churn with a sickening sense of betrayal.

She knew something had changed, something that would shatter her world.

It wasn’t long before she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Five…” Y/N’s voice wavered as she stepped forward, searching his face for any sign of the man she loved. But he looked away, his jaw tightening as if he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

the tension in the air was palpable. Diego stood beside Lila, their three children clinging to their mother, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Y/N felt the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Five’s silence was deafening, and when he finally spoke, his words cut through her like a knife. “We were gone for seven years, Y/N. Seven years in a timeline we couldn’t escape.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. “I know it was hard, but you made it back. You’re here now. We can fix this, Five. We can go back to how it was.”

Five shook his head, the pain in his eyes unbearable to witness. “It’s not that simple. Things changed… I changed. I didn’t want this to happen, but…I fell in love with Lila.”

Time seemed to stop. The world around Y/N blurred, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart shattering into a million pieces. She stared at Five, her mind refusing to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth. Lila? Lila, who was married to Diego, who had three children with him?

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her vision narrowing as the weight of his confession settled on her shoulders. She wanted to scream, to hit him, to do anything to make the pain go away, but all she could do was stand there, trembling with fury and betrayal.

"You bastard," she whispered, her voice low and deadly. "You absolute bastard."

Five recoiled as if she had slapped him, but she didn’t care. The anger was boiling over now, a volcano ready to erupt. The room was deadly silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone was staring at them now, the shock evident on their faces. Diego’s expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on Lila, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

"You want to know what kind of man you are, Five?" Y/N spat, her voice shaking with fury as she faced him and the others. "You’re an asshole. An ungrateful, selfish asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to remember the woman he was supposed to love!"

The room fell into stunned silence, everyone staring at Y/N with wide eyes. Five opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N cut him off.

“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve fought for, you go and…fall in love with someone else? And not just anyone, but Lila? Diego’s wife? The mother of his children? I would rather sleep with a mannequin than ever fall in love with someone else, but I guess that’s the difference between us, isn’t it?"

Five flinched, but he didn’t back down. “I never meant for this to happen, Y/N. We were stuck there for seven years. We didn’t think we’d ever make it back.”

“So you gave up?” Y/N’s voice was rising now, the anger bubbling over. “You just gave up on us, on me? You preferred to think about having sex with Lila instead of finding a way back to me? The old Five never gave up. He never would’ve stopped fighting to get back to the people he loved. But you…you’re not him anymore, are you?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned her gaze to Lila, her voice dripping with venom. “And you…you disgust me. How could you do this to Diego? To your children? You betrayed them. You betrayed all of us.”

Lila’s face paled, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Diego stood beside her, his expression still unreadable, but Y/N could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to hide.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. The moment she was outside, the tears she had been holding back finally broke free, streaming down her face as she collapsed onto the cold ground.

She wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing uncontrollably, the pain too much to bear. She had lost him. The man she had loved more than anything, the man she had waited for, had hoped for, had fought for…he was gone. And in his place was someone she didn’t recognize, someone who had betrayed her in the worst possible way.

Y/N had no idea how long she sat there, crying until there were no tears left to cry.. She felt completely and utterly alone, as if the world had turned its back on her.

But then she heard footsteps approaching, and she looked up to see Diego standing beside her. His face was filled with sorrow, his eyes red and puffy, but there was a softness in his expression that offered a small comfort.

“Y/N…” Diego’s voice was gentle as he sat down beside her. He didn’t say anything for a while, just sat there in silence, letting her cry. When she finally managed to calm down enough to speak, her voice was hoarse, broken.

“I don’t understand, Diego. I don’t understand how this happened. How could he fall in love with her? After everything we’ve been through, how could he just…forget about me?”

Diego sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Y/N. I really don’t. Lila and I…we had our problems. I wasn’t always the best husband, and I know why things went wrong between us. But you and Five…you two were perfect together. You were the strongest team I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand how he could do this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, the pain still raw and aching in her chest. “I thought we had something special. I thought he loved me more than anything.”

“He did, Y/N. I know he did,” Diego said softly. “I think…I think being stuck there for so long messed with his head. It changed him in ways we can’t understand. But that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know how to move on from this, Diego. I don’t know how to live in a world where Five isn’t…mine.”

Diego put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Y/N leaned into him, grateful for the comfort even as the pain tore at her heart. She felt Diego’s chest heave as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than anyone I know. You’ll get through this, I promise. And I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.”

Y/N nodded, though the pain still felt unbearable. She clung to Diego, letting the tears flow freely again, her heart breaking with every sob. She had lost the man she loved, the man she thought would be by her side forever. And now, she had to find a way to pick up the pieces and move on, even if it felt impossible.

As the day wore on, the two of them sat together, their grief shared and understood. And while Y/N knew the road ahead would be difficult, she also knew she wasn’t alone. She had her family, her strength, and the hope that someday, the pain would lessen, and she would find a way to heal.

But for now, all she could do was cry and try to make sense of the shattered pieces of her heart.

[werecreature-addicted]

I remember some of your posts about a minotaur who lived with a peasant girl, can I ask for something about that? If it's not a bother of courseDue to the life that the minotaur has had, its instincts never appeared, that is, it never went through a stage of heat due to the stress and abuse to which it was subjected, but now everything is different, it is calmer, more relaxed, and it began to pay attention to a girl, specifically the girl she lives with, and apparently her instincts are beginning to appear, her body asks her to "mate" with her partner, although it is difficult to control herself, plus they are nothing yet and the girl does not know that minotaurs also go through a hot season, and it's not like she was going to ask him that, it would be very strange xd

(imagine that poor cock crying to enter the girl, but he must hide it, even if it is uncomfortable)

Sam master list for previous parts.

under the cut because this is long...for me at least.

Normally when it came to the physically demanding chores around the farm Sam liked to do the heavy lifting, literally. You were stronger than you looked but you still didn't have the monstrous strength that he did, and even besides that, he liked to spoil you. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the way you sometimes watched him as he repaired the siding of a barn or hammered in a sense post. Something about the way your eyes followed him left a warm feeling in his belly. It's especially nice now that sometimes you kiss him after he's done a good job.

Now though, he just stands and stares as you work, nailing together bits of wood making your own saddle stand out of leftover bits of material. You looked so good, sweaty, and bent over your little bench. Is this how you felt when you watched him work? Sam doesn't even have the vocabulary to describe the strange heat that burns inside of him. He's supposed to be doing other work right now but he can't tear his eyes from you.

He wants to bend you over that saddle stand and- and what? He flinches back from the thought he didn't want to hurt you and he hates that his instincts are pushing him in that direction. But he wouldn't hurt you, his mind argues back. He wouldn't pin you down to hurt win a match or something. He'd be gentle. He'd pleasure you. Sam shudders. Where were these thoughts coming from?

His nostrils flare and even from across the barn, he can smell you and the salt of your sweat makes his cock throb. Sam sits down hard and pulls a nearby milk bucket over the large tent in his pants. He immediately feels stupid and tosses the pail aside, it did more to draw attention to his boner than hide it. He settles for just sitting awkwardly and hoping you don't notice.

How can Sam ever look you in the eye again after this? He supposes he shouldn't feel so guilty about being attracted to you but surely it's perverse to want you this badly when you're not even doing anything. At least if you were naked in bed trying to seduce him he'd have good reason to be this turned on. Sam shudders and replays the mental image of you, naked in bed, looking up at him trying to pull him towards you. Fuck he needed to get on top of you.

Just as that thought crossed his mind you bent over the waist-height wooden stand to grab something from your toolbox jutting your ass out in front of him. In a second Sam is on his feet, walking towards you before he can register what he's even doing, all he knows is that he needs you.

"oh, Sam-" you gasp, jumping a little when you turn to see him right behind you. For someone so big he moved silently. Sam takes a step forward and presses you back against the barn wall. "What's going on honey?" you ask trying to sound calm but you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous about his behavior. Sam had always been so cautious with you, overly gentle and paranoid that he might hurt you by accident. The Sam you knew would never pin you against a wall like this, it was nervewracking but also exciting.

"I uhm I just wanted to be close to you I guess," he mumbled, lowering his snout to your shoulder as if he was smelling you. Sam steps closer and you feel something brush against your thigh at first you think it's his leg but you look down and realize it's his barely restrained cock poking into your thigh.

"Do- are you uhm in heat Sam?" You ask and the monster on top of you freezes.

"do- do minotaurs go into heat?" he asks puzzled.

"I guess I don't know but most monsters do have you really never gone into heat before?" You ask then wince, it made sense that he wouldn't go into heat when he was under such harsh conditions his body wouldn't let him go into such a vulnerable state.

"No," he said, his hips grinding softly against your thigh he groans at the friction and you can't help but shudder too. You might not go into heat but you did want him just as much. "Will you help me?" he asked desperately.

"yes- yeah, I'll help you let me just-" As soon as he has your consent all other thoughts fly out of his head. He pushes his mouth to yours kissing you and effectively shutting you up. This wasn't like any of the other soft and innocent kisses you and Sam had shared in the past this was heated, and needy and caused a warm heat to bloom inside of you. This isn't a kiss for the sake of kissing, this is a kiss that promises much much more to come.

Even desperate like this, Sam still tries to be gentle as he strips your clothes and kneels down so he can hook your legs over his broad, muscular shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the barn he holds your weight easily.

"I'm going to get you nice and prepped for me, my cock is big and I need you to take every inch, okay?" he asks softly, kissing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his thick fingers ghost over your cunt.

"Hold my horns while you rid my face," Sam instructs. You look down at his horns, one normal and the other broken and jagged. You hesitated, you knew how much that broken horn hurt him and you didn't want to grab it, but before you could put much more thought into it Sam pressed his mouth to your cunt, running his large soft tongue over your folds getting you wet enough to slot his big fingers inside of you. You yelp and settle for holding on to his good horn with one hand and tangling your fingers in his hair with the other.

Sam's cock ached. He needed to be buried inside of you, but he held himself back. He imagined the pained squeak you'd make if he tried to fuck you without any prep and that was almost enough to snap him out of his lusty haze. Almost.

You lose count of how many times you cum as he stretches you out and gets you ready for his dick, eventually though he decides that you're ready for him, or he just gets tired of waiting. Your legs tremble and for a second you worry you're not going to be able to stand on your own but you needn't worry, Sam had no intention of letting you stand. he readjusts his grip so that your legs are over his forearms and he pins you against the wall again his cock nudging your opening, slipping up your pussy as he tries unsuccessfully to push into you. His cock head bumps your clit and you feel a pulse of warm precum ooze out onto your hot skin making you shudder, your thighs tense in his arms, and Sam grunts, spreading your legs a little further as he grinds his cock over your cunt again.

You reach between your two bodies and grasp his cock. You curse silently to yourself feeling the weight and girth of it for the first time. You stroke him a few times before you guide his dick inside of you.

Sam had been so careful to be gentle with you this whole time, but now that he feels your tight heat gripping him in a way he's never felt before he no longer has the restraint. His brain shuts off and he feels more like a beast than he has in years. Sam slams his hips against yours burying his cock to the hilt in one swift motion. You cry out and dig your nails into his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you with all the strength of a bull plowing a field. You're pretty sure you hear something crack and for a minute you aren't sure if it's you or the barn wall behind you that's breaking.

Sam groans loudly as he sinks his cock into you over and over again. His hips have a mind of their own as they steadily rock back and forth. He hates to admit it, but every time you cry out in pleasure or in pain it makes his cock throb. He would have thought the sound of you hurting-hurting because of him, would be enough to break his heart instead it makes him whimper and only fuels his desire to fuck you harder and fill you with his cum until you were swollen with it.

The mental image of you bloated with his seed proves to be too much for him and with one more deep stroke he cums deep inside of you, his legs shake with the relief of finally breeding you. He pulls you away from the wall and crashes backward into a hay bail laying down to catch his breath while keeping you impaled on his cock.

It feels right to have you on his chest and be surrounded by the earthy comforting smell of hay and dirt. You shift a little and his hands fly up to your hips pushing you back down.

"Stay... please," he almost begs softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, I just want to get off your dick," you promise, trying to shift again. then he looks at you with the saddest most pleading look you've ever seen. his big brown cow eyes sparkling at you.

"Please don't, I want to be inside of you so you can feel me get hard again before I fuck you," he mumbles pleadingly. how could you say no to that face?

[all4yoi]

was it just a game to you?

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ poor attempt on angst , lowercase intended , hand holding ( not w u! xd ) , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part two here !

catching them holding hands with another girl after they accepted your confession 

confessing to them was already on your monthly bucket list, but them accepting it and liking you back certainly wasn't. feeling ecstatic, you walk towards your university's glass doors only to find him holding hands with a female that certainly isn't you.

★ LEE HEESEUNG

eyes trained on their hands clutched tightly on to one another, you watch silently as the girl smiled up at him shyly, tucking a strand of her hair with her empty hand.

doubt began overtaking you. right, who would choose someone like you over someone like karina? she was everything you weren't. perfect face, perfect body, she's kind, and absolutely beautiful. if you were heeseung, you would choose her too.

you flinched as you made eye contact with the girl holding hands with someone who should be yours. she sent you a smile, a genuine one. not mocking, nor insulting. she didn't have any idea about the conversation last night you shared with the man she's holding hands with.

she didn't know about how he smiled at you brightly, didn't know about the hug you two shared, and absolutely didn't know about how he said he liked you too. so how could you hate and blame her?

before you could even send a smile back at her, heeseung turned around and instantly took his hand back when his gaze landed on your stiff body.

instead of making a scene, you showed them the best smile you could muster despite the quiver on your lips before quickly walking away towards your first class.

heeseung panicked, turning to karina.

"you're a great friend karina, but i don't feel the same. i'm sorry."

with that, he ran after you hoping you would hear him out and let him explain.

other members utc!

★ PARK JONGSEONG

you felt your mood instantly drop. yesterday he promised he would prove to you how much he liked you back too, now he's holding hands with a pretty girl.

your eyes quickly met his and the way he quickly took his hand back from the girl made you even more upset. you watched as the female said something incoherent to him before he approached you hastily.

he stood infront of you, worry written all over his face. your frowned deepened, betrayal making your chess heavy.

"it's not what it looked like, i promise." jay whispered that only you could hear. he didn't want you doubting his feelings for you, he was merely helping the girl up after he had bumped into her. she insisted on shaking his hand after telling him her name, it was such wrong timing that you saw.

he didn't mean to hurt you.

"it's okay. i'll see you later jay." was all you said before walking away with a small smile. he watched your figure become smaller and smaller until he lost your figure to the students crowding the halls.

despite the smile on your pretty face, jay knew he had hurt you badly and he intended on fixing that. for now, he'd give you space.

★  SIM JAEYUN

his hand was instantly removed from hers as soon as you saw it. you didn't know what to feel. were you supposed to be glad that he immediately let her go as soon as your eyes met his? still, you don't know for how long he has been holding her hand before you even saw.

but then again, you two weren't together. so who were you to be mad? he liked you back sure, but he wasn't your boyfriend. he could hold hands with anyone he'd like. but was it bad to hope that he'd only do those things with you?

you couldn't help the tears falling down your cheeks. immediately, you felt ashamed. ashamed for crying about something so stupid like this, so you did what everyone would've done.

you ran, ignoring his desperate calls for you. and even when he caught up with you and brought you to his chest, the tears didn't stop. you mentally cursed yourself for being so sensitive.

pushing yourself away from him, you wiped away the tears.

"i can explain, please."

"it's fine jake, really. i just wish you would've been more honest with me." lips wobbly as you attempted a small smile, jake's heart broke as he watched you walk away from him again.

★  PARK SUNGHOON

you didn't know what to do. there he was, holding hands with the prettiest girl in campus with other students fawning over them. exclaims on how good they looked together echoed through your ears.

maybe he only said he liked you back to make fun of your reaction with his friends. maybe it was a lousy bet between him and his friends to make you believe he actually liked you back.

"don't they look absolutely good together? seriously, sunghoon and wonyoung, literally everyone here expected them to get together at some point" a random student told you, her smile wide as she observed the two, who were still holding hands.

the way he stiffened and dropped her hand as soon as your eyes met his brought you back to reality. blending in with the crowd in the halls, you attempted to escape his line of sight, desperate to leave before the tears in your tear ducts escape.

you were forced to halt when you felt a strong grip on your forearm. sunghoon turned you around to face him, his brows furrowed whilst he bit his bottom

"y/n.." he gulped as he saw how your eyes got teary immediately. "i'm sorry, it's not like that at all."

"so why were you holding her hand? with the biggest smile on your face?" he kept his mouth shut, unable to form an answer. this only made you frustrated even more.

pulling your arm back, you cleared your throat and looked down on your shoe. "you could've turned me down instead of making me hope- nevermind.. see you around."

sunghoon watched you walk away from him helplessly, mentally beating himself up for not clearing things up.

[dragonsoulage]

The sweetest treat of all...you

feat. L Lawliet

What better way could exist then to get himself focused again, then to have the sweetest treat of all to himself? His sweet maid that was devine in every way.

Hello together, in this short story you are a maid from L. And well idk for some reason I just really craved something like this xD so I hope you enjoy, this is btw my first kinda smutty thing I wrote so here we are ☠️ and I suck in proof reading lol.

MDNI

Warnings: It's smut, oral sex (f recieving), squirting, fingering

Wordcount: 2,2k

You never thought you would end up right here now when you were employed as a personal maid to the one and only L. You were indeed absolutely fitting, a good maid, kept everything clean, and you were just seen when necessary. You worked quickly and efficiently. Even when you weren't a part of the task force—that way, everyone adored you. It was nearly like you knew what everyone needed. Always doing your work with such determination and devotion. You always put up with L's quirks. Like serving everything he needed, you learned how he liked it. Leanred how he functioned. You never knew why, though, but you did what would help him to solve the case. Serving tea at the perfect temperature. Bringing the cake, he probably would like the most right in this moment. Although you sometimes even worried a little since he worked nonstop.

But oh little did you know a way to unwind would be him nose deep inside your cute pussy.

You were on the couch, his slender fingers grabbing your thighs, spread out for him. After all, you were his personal maid; you were there to fulfill his every need, right? You were already squirming, and your hands tugged gently on his fluffy raven hair as he shamelessly wiped his tongue over your pussy. "So sweet..." You heard him mumble before he drove right back in. And this went on...for like forever. You already had like your 3rd orgasm. But the detective had other plans. For some reason, he developed a liking for you. Indeed, he was really aware of that and tried to observe what was happening to him when he saw you. Or simply, when he got a whiff of your perfume because you stood next to him, he always turned his head to look at your adorable face.

Although it was so not for him to just get attached to someone, he got attached to you. You have done your job for a while now. Always so good and responsible. He never complained about you. He felt urges. He usually never felt at all. Like the feeling he wanted to taste you. Since men in his surroundings spoke about eating out pussy and how sweet it would taste. L liked sweet treats; they helped him to concentrate.

And you, for sure, were adorable. So right the moment when you had served some cake, L turned around to you. "I would like to have another treat. Something that would help stimulate my brain a little more." He said to you in his monotone voice, looking at you with his dark eyes crouched in his chair. You smiled before you went through the options—what would be the best now, but he interrupted you.

L wasn't the social butterfly, so instead of beating around the bush, he was straight forward. "No cake indeed, and no candy. I would like to have you." His thumb was on his lower lip as always when he was thinking. He tilted his head slightly, watching your reaction. You were frozen for a second and then simply blinked at him. "W-what do you mean?" You asked, and your cheeks flushed with that cute pink shade. He fell for you even when L was so composed. The detecitve cleared his throat then. You had been a lot on his mind lately, and he couldn't afford distractions—the only way to not be distracted would be when he finally would satisfy a certain craving. "Please tell me when this is uncomfortable. I am simply not used to ask for things like that. And I will be perfectly fine when you say no. So don't hesitate or be afraid...to even say no." It was cute in his little weird way. Wanting to have you comfortable even when he did not know at all how he should ask about the fact he wanted his tongue deep inside your pussy.

"I... am listening, so please go on." You said you wiped your hands on your apron. You tried to gain back composure. "When you let me, I would like to taste your pussy." He finally said to you.

And then... God, you didn't even remember how you ended up shaking on the couch. You agreed yes, but he already got 3 orgasms out of you; you were only able to remember your own name. Your cute maid dress was raised up to your waist. Panties pulled down somewhere on the ground. His tongue lapping at your hot slit. Savoring every drop and taste that he could get from your pussy. And you, well, you were the best sweet treat he ever had. Better than any chocolate cake could be. He crouched in front of you on the floor. Just holding your thighs open, that sometimes tried to close because you were so overstimulated. And these cute little noises—he loved to simply listen to you.

"L...I can't take more." You whined your eyes shut close when you felt his tongue flicking over your poor clit. Your pussy is just so responsive to his touches; all his attention is now laid on you. A rare thing for the detective. "But I barley got a taste...besides that." The pale man between your legs spoke muffled against your soaping wet folds. Before his dark eyes looked up, trying to see your expression. "You look gorgeous when you cum. When I wouldn't be needed in other things, I probably would eat you out all day." He told you, and you got him hooked. Your pussy is sweeter than honey; his own personal meal only he could enjoy. His sweet maid being spread out for him, with that heaven between your legs. When he knew pussy eating would be such a thing for him, he would have done that sooner. Your back arched off again when he nibbled on your clit, your hands tugging on his hair, and he groaned when you pulled his head closer—so much to the fact you said you couldn't take any more. Your juices were running down his chin, and his tongue was plunging deep, wiggling its way inside. God, every time you tried to close your thighs as if you wanted to crush his head between your legs. Although he wouldn't mind that at all. But he kept your thighs wide open for better acces.

"Fuck, going to cum again when you don't stop...L...I am shaking." You moaned, barley, able to breathe properly. Before he simply pulled you closer on your hips, sucking your clit between his now glossy lips. "So damn devine..." He murmured while watching how your lips shaped in a pretty 'oh' because of his ministrations. And then you came again, hard and shaking, but not quiet the result he wanted. He wanted you to let go, to simply gush out on his face, and to cum. Just so he could slurp up your sweet juices. His face slowly faded away from your folds, looking at them and how damn sloppy he ate you out.

Before he lifted his head and L's thumb, smearing the combined juices along your cunt, you shuddered. "You can give me more, right?" He asked, his voice laced with a desire you never thought you would hear. You were so overstimulated that you shook your head, although secretly you wanted him to keep going. He lifted an eyebrow, and his lips formed a smirk before he wiped your juices off with his sleeve. "No? But I read about the fact that women can be brought to multiple orgasms until they simply burst. Kinda want to put that theory to the test, pretty maid." Usually, L wasn't one for nicknames, but after seeing how it affected you in moaning louder, he knew what he needed to say.

Curiously, he looked down at your bare cunt again. "Are you really going to try to make me squirt?" You asked just looking at him with these cum drunken doe eyes. So pretty. Alone every time you quivered, when his thumb circled your clit in slow circles, it made you clench around nothing. You squirmed nearly as if you wanted to run away. His arm held you still. "When this means I get a good taste of you again, then yes, I want to make you squirt." L meant before his slender fingers touched along your slit. His fingers are kind of long; probably they would reach that point that would make you a sobbing, sweet mess. All this just to satisfy his cravings. "I never did that before; probably it isn't going to work either." You wanted to explain, in your little shy and cute way, why you couldn't. But your pussy was already pulsating and dripping with need. But then two fingers interrupted you when they entered. Your pretty pussy clenching around them.

He worked his tongue on you. Two digits stretched you deliciously. His long and slender fingers had you gasping. And He watched closley how you reacted. So eager and so focused to make you squirt just so he could get all the candied nectar for himself. "So about that special spot, sweet girl." He started giving your swollen clit a short kiss before his lips were replaced with his thumb, which drew out some pressure on your bud. "I still need to locate it; make you all the more sensetive." L told you, and he tilted his wrist a little, and then, oh, he crooked his fingers. Your eyes widen with shock and bliss, your jaw hanging open before you wanted to throw back your head. "Think I found it." You could listen to the satisfied hum in his voice. And it had you moaning even louder, your chest heaving. Your pussy is so sloppy and wet. Squelching all around his fingers. "Fuck...oh God, fuck." Was all you could say. You looked away simply because you were so shy and literally were cumming on the hand and mouth from the world's best detective.

Until you felt another hand on your face, your chin, he gently grabbed as he averted to him. Besides the fact that L was aroused himself; he wanted you to come undone; it would be turning him on more than he said out loud. L wanted your eyes on him because it was just so cute how shy your face flushed. "Eyes on me, little maid. It increases the level of arousal by about 90 percent." He told you, his own erection straining against his pants. Your droopy eyes tried to look at him; oh, you struggled so adorable. While his fingers were pumping inside you, stroking that gummy part of you that made you see stars as you whimpered.

L found himself quiet fond of the way your striking eyes looked at him, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. Your plump lips parted. Before he lowered his head again, his tongue lapping out to flick over your poor swollen bud. His eyes still looking through his messy black hair watching you squirm and buck up your hips. You were so close, he could tell it. His movements with his fingers are simply growing to be more precise. So much so that you tried to take his hand from you, but he kept his fingers hooked inside your pussy. "It feels weird; I... am not going to last." You breathed out thighs shaking already, but he then sucked on your clit. "It's normal you feel that way. It is said that female orgasm can be quite powerful when stimulated in the right way. Just so much, you have the feeling you would burst." The usual so composed detective explains while still being busy with your pussy. "Come on, sweet maid, give me what I crave." L urged you, and oh, as on command, your orgasm rolled over you. Legs shaking and breath hitching. Your back arched off the couch. Your sweet juices gushing out slightly onto his face as he slurped up the syrupy juices from your cunt, indeed lapping up in every corner. You were devine, a treat he never would want to pass. His fingers allowed the pace to slow down before he slid them out. "Such a sweet girl." L murmured while he still kissed your spent pussy, still getting every last drop of you; nothing would go to waste. Finally, he had what he craved—the taste he yearned for so badly—this distraction was gone.

But as you watched him between your thighs, you weren't unaware of this immense bulge. Now L had another problem that would need to be satisfied by his cute maid. "Well, now it's your turn." You said and tilted your head. L caught a little off guard, as he was feeling the pulsing need in his loins. He sat there and analyzed you. But before he could say anything clever, you were a little faster. Maneuvered you two so you were now straddling his lap, grabbing his hands to lay them on your hips, when you started to ground slowly and sensually over his boner, still tugged away in his pants. "I heard that it increases the level of arousal by about 95 percent." You chuckled watching how he simply looked up at you, and there...a small whimper left his lips. "And 100 percent when I take your dick inside me." You were always a shy one, but right now, after you saw how greedy L was for your pussy, you got a moment of confidence. Wanting to make the analytical boy panting... 

[ang3ltine]

✧.*𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✧˚ · . Bob Reynolds x ex widow freader

a.n - reader is a former widow and is currently dating a touch starved Bob

warnings - mature themes, trauma bonding, mention of a gun and lots of fluff!

Another teaser! (I'm still working on it xd)

It was unbearably quiet in the training room as you lean against the stone cold wall with a pair of dance slippers in your hand.

The satin ribbon sat delicately between your fingers as you watch it sway back and forth in a forth in a daze.

Memories of the red room flooded your mind despite trying to overcome the guilt that weighed down on you. Even though the so called 'ballet lessons' was all just a facade, you still wondered if a part of you wanted to learn again.

That's when you felt it. A dense, unmistakable pull. As if you were being studied. You followed the weight with your body first as you turn towards the source.

It was coming from the dark hallway next beyond the frosted glass walls of the training room.

Like a deer caught in headlights, the figure darted before you could react. But you already knew who it was.

A slow yet relieved sigh passed your lips before placing the ballet slippers back on your feet again. "Bob..."

After messily tying up the ribbon around your ankles, you got up to follow him.

Just a few months earlier, you had gotten to know and become close with the jittery man. He was sweet and greatly misunderstood. Often being being treated like a kid by the others, although they don't really mean to.

You knew all too well where he was headed since you were following the sound of his footsteps that echoed in the distance. Not too far down was the 'cinema' room, where he'd visit regularly if he couldn't sleep at night. It wasn't exactly a cinema.

Alexei thought it would be a good idea to create his own version by adding couches to make the place seem more 'casual' and comfortable. In this case, he was right for once.

Bob was already pretending to watch a movie once you stepped in, he had put on Indiana Jones. A movie series that he had just gotten into 2 days ago.

You didn't knocking as you made your way towards the 'unaware' brunette on the burgundy leather couch.

The signature colour cordially chosen by Alexei.

Bob gave into your touch almost immediately when your fingers rake slowly through his dark curls. He didn't realise that you hadn't taken a seat next to him, causing him to flutter his eyes open. Only to see you looming over him next to the armrest.

The soft glow from the TV screen surrounded you as you cautiously walked infront of him to bend down to his level. Curious, wide eyes seemingly met yours as you tilt your head in amusement.

"You know...you're not the best at hiding."

Bob saw the way your lips upturned into a kind smile. You weren't mocking him, no it was quite the opposite, really.

An attentive grin tugged at his lips. He knew whether you were actually joking or being serious, you two were dating after all.

"Guess I can't."

A silent offer was given to you as he pat the spot next to him, you glady accepted, the soft leather sinking as you sat down.

Quiet hums of approval filled Bob's ears as he turned to look at you while you test the durability of the couch. It was a recent addition, so you didn't get the chance to sit on it yet.

"Oh wow, Alexei picked out a pretty couch for once."

Bob caught a glance behind your mask. You too, were hiding something. His hand inches closer to your own, gently brushing over your fingers to get your attention.

"You're having those nightmares again...aren't you?"

There it was, the question that you dreaded. You were reluctant to face him, but you eventually do. Honestly you felt quite guilty for wanting to tell him because he already has so many of his own.

"Yeah...you remember me telling you about the red room right?" Bob instantly nods before urging you to carry on. " well this time I was doing ballet lessons with a friend."

Bob listens intently while his thumb gently brushes over your knuckles in a matter to calm your nerves. You rarely get anxious but this time, he could sense that you were from the way you were chewing on your bottom lip.

"We were dancing and having fun. Just like normal little girls would do...but I had a mission to complete." There was a slight tremor in your voice as you spoke. "She was my mission Bob."

Bob's brows scrunched together as he thought of what you meant. It was odd. A feeling of darkness was engulfing you as you spoke before becoming completely enshrouded.

"No please...don't kill me! Please--!" The trembling voice of the little girl laying beneath you as you hover over her.

You hesitated for a brief moment before pulling the trigger in a cold, ruthless manner.

Despite being brainwashed, a small glimmer of hope sparked within you when you became close with the girl. Now her ballet clothes were stained red and an empty pair of eyes stared back at you.

There was no reason for you to turn around to see who the man was as his deep gravelly voice spoke to you, his hand heavy on your shoulder.

"Well done little one...your first mission is complete."

It ended abruptly as it came. A fleeting yet gruelling glimpse into your nightmare. Bob had already retraced his hand from instinct, a shiver running down his spine as he stared back at you.

His eyes filled with worry and guilt as his bottom lip trembled. He felt awful for invading your privacy like that.

"You...you had to go through all of that by yourself? How old were you??" Bob had countless questions to ask you while inching closer towards you. Before you could speak, his hands were back in yours again.

This time he held both of them tightly but with reassurance. You took a deep breath before looking up to meet his gaze. "It's no big deal Bob...I don't really remember anyway-"

"No its a big deal. You were what-- like 9? Nobody should deserve to go through something like that..." Bob rambled on while the last part came out as a whisper. "I saw everything."

One of Bob's hands moved up to caress your cheek with the utmost gentleness. The ghost of his touch lingered on your skin as he leaned in close, just barely bumping his nose against yours.

Usually you do this to calm Bob, but this time, he was doing it to you.

Another feeling sparked deep within your stomach, something warm and enticing. "Let me comfort you this time."

You let out a shuddered breath as his long lashes tickled against your warm skin. "I feel fine Bob."

Bob shook his head in disappointment since were being stubborn again. A known behavioural issue that Bob was already used to. Both his hands were holding your face now, his breath intermingling with you own.

"Please. I want to help."

It was hard to miss the pleading tone in his voice as he searches your eyes for a sign of acceptance. Your shoulders slumped before giving him a quiet nod of approval. "Alright...I trust you."

You subconsciously breath in his scent. He smelled good. Better than usual. Most of the time he'd smell like fresh laundry, but this time he had on vanilla perfume.

One that was gifted by you. Sweet, sharp and gourmand.

Bob inched closer and closer until his lips were hovering above yours, taking you by surprise. Sure you two kissed before, but it was normally you who instigated it.

This time he took the initiative. A sense of pride welled up within you when Bob finally connects his lips with yours. His lips were the embodiment of soft, warm and inviting.

Almost as if he'd lose both him and yourself completely, he pulls you against him impossibly closer to deepen the kiss. Bodies effortlessly moulding together.

He wasn't sure where to place his hands as they moved from your face down to your waist. A noticeable groan forms in your throat as his hands slip underneath your shirt in order for him to explore further. Prodding a satisfied reaction out of him when you feel his lips grin against yours.

"Did you plan this--?" You managed to say in-between the kiss when you let out a surprised gasp as he traces small patterns on your bare skin. Ofcourse you asked as a joke but didn't expect an answer. " mmph, maybe."

Your lips were a new addiction for him as he manoeuvred your body, letting your head lay on the armrest of the couch. He broke the kiss momentarily to catch his breath, giving you the opportunity to bask in his appearance.

Bob's hair was messy and disheveled, more so than usual while he loomed over you. His cheeks were slightly flushed and so were the tips of his ears.

You didn't really get the chance to breathe yourself when he reached for the hem of his sweater to take it off, hands a little shaky. The fabric bunches up in his fingers before he swiftly pulls it over his head.

"Too hot..." he mumbled as he breathes in and out quite heavily.

There was no time to appreciate his defined muscles since he was already diving back in again, full of desire and need. In another bold act of gesture, he takes the opportunity to fully immerse himself in the kiss and sucks lightly on your bottom lip. Wanting to taste more.

Content that he finally gets the chance to 'comfort' you instead.

Taglist:

@marianastudiesart @ordelixx @starktonyx @hisredheadedgoddess28 @avatarobsessedgirly @starstruckfirecat @adventure-awaits13 @milkbean69 @fire-joestar

[skimmingmilk]

aughhh sonic going back in time to visit little two yr old tails as been in my brain for what feels like forever! like how many dots does he end up connecting? how does he have the strength to not travel back further and knock the daylights out of tails’s mom? how does he react to the whole kukku invasion and forest fire? so many questions…aaaaa im so excited for this fic i will be in ruins. in ruins, i tell you

also with the whole sonic punching tails’s mom thing: you were talking about tails and his parents, but like sonic interacting (or just seeing) tails’s parents is always something ive thought about. idk, im curious about what your take on that would be, if you have one. (sorry if you’ve already answered something like this ahshhshs)

your boys are just spinning around in my brain constantly. they are living in there completely rent free. i adore them sm, they make me sick. anytime there’s a reference or parallel to something in their past, it hurts. these boys need therapy immediately. maybe even before immediately. your portrayal of them is such a huge inspiration istg

anyway, sorry this is kinda all over the place 😭 i just had a bunch of thoughts and threw them together in the most coherent way i could lol. hope you have a good rest of your night/day! stay safe out there 🩵

So, I was saving this because it really inspired me to write a little something, and it felt fitting because I live for your baby Tails and Sonic art, it's seriously the best boost of serotonin for me xD I'm sorry it took a minute to get to this, and I'll address the second idea you had in another ask (someone else was on the same wavelength as you around this time, and also asked about Sonic and Tails and Tails's parents xD).

But for now, please accept a continuation of the back in time shenanigans <3

Sonic Back In Time Shenanigans WIP #2: Back for the Luggage

Tracking down a second Chaos Emerald so he could skip back in time for an afternoon wasn’t how Sonic saw himself spending the past few days. Though, to be fair, he spent a good chunk of them trying to ignore the very itch encouraging him to give into this particular whim of the week, but impulse control wasn’t Sonic the Hedgehog’s claim to fame. Not by a long shot.

His curiosity had been piqued. New insight into the lore of his little brother’s life before he’d ever crossed his path niggled at his mind no matter how far and fast he ran from the temptation to take a peek. The glimpse he’d got on that rainy night hadn’t been all that reassuring, with Tails so small and sick and the time Sonic got to spend with him in that dusty, stuffy cabin all too brief.

Cocoa Island. He’d looked it up after he and Silver returned to Sonic’s present, their respective futures stabilized for the time being, but he couldn’t find much information on it. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sonic could chart it on a map, it almost seemed like it didn’t even exist.

Historic records mentioned studies of the volcanic activity on the island more than a decade ago. Mines had also been dug out in the cave systems throughout the island long before Sonic had been born, in search of potential esoteric energy sources.

The Chaos Emeralds, no doubt.

But other than that, it seemed the island had never been properly settled. Sonic could’ve flown over in the Tornado for a quick jaunt—running to small islands never boded well for him, they were always tricky to aim for—but he knew it wouldn’t have the answers he was itching to find out.

And sure, the big one was already answered. The sick baby fox he’d had to leave behind in the care of some flickies after that rainy night obviously made a full recovery, or else Tails wouldn’t be alive in Sonic’s present, off on his own adventure. Flying solo. Alone.

But knowing that without actually seeing it, experiencing it for himself, didn’t satisfy Sonic in the slightest. He was all about experiences. And he wanted to experience this mysterious chapter of his best bud’s life, one he never really let himself think all that hard on.

So, that was how Sonic found himself on a nearly deserted island eight years in the past with two Chaos Emeralds in hand. It was warmer than in his present, willing to bet they were somewhere in spring or early summer as opposed to late fall, but the dense cover of pine trees kept the forest floor cool in its shade. Allergies tickled his nose, prompting Sonic to scratch at it as he took in his surroundings. Flickies sang throughout the branches, their chirps a comforting song accompanied by the steady hum of insects hidden in the brush. With his own curious hum, Sonic picked a direction and ran with it—er, walked with it. He took it slow for the moment, trying to find his way back to the cabin from that night. It seemed like his best bet to start his search for Tails.

Until a child’s voice somewhere in the forest caught his ear, both perking up and flicking towards the sound with an instinctive pull as everything else faded into the background. A breath Sonic hadn’t realized he’d been holding lifted from his chest. The child sounded light, healthy. No coughing or crying as far as he could tell. 

Sonic followed the voice to a clearing. Unlike the stormy day he’d first stumbled in on, sunlight flooded the patch of grass between the trees with its warm beams. One fell across a tree stump where a two-tailed fox kit lay sprawled across on his tummy, bright-eyed and bushy tails further confirmation that he’d made a full recovery. Sonic’s shoulders sagged with relief as he observed him from the brush, his own green eyes lighting up as he realized he was playing. Making motor sounds with his mouth, Tails rolled a toy airplane through the long, wild grass. His tongue poked out as he accidentally blew raspberries amidst his very serious airplane noises.

“Pfft—” Sonic’s laugh nearly sputtered out of him, cut off only by the fact that the kid heard him and froze.

Ears swiveled in his direction, but Tails couldn’t see him through the trees from his spot on the stump. The toy airplane fell to the grass with a soft thump as the baby fox squirmed and tried to hoist himself up into a sitting position, his two blue boots dangling just over the edge as his bare hands planted themselves on the wood between them to support himself. One tail flicked up and down with excitement while the other twitched limply against the tree stump, like it didn’t know it could lift itself up like its twin.

“Mom?” he called out, and the hope in his voice ensnared Sonic’s heart in a vice. “Mom!”

“Ah, sorry, little guy. Not mom.” Sonic stepped out from behind the brush with his hands up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Just me. Long time no see.”

His tails immediately wilted as the bright-eyed, eager expression on his face retracted into something shy and pensive. But not scared, Sonic noted. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Remember me? I stayed with you during that rainstorm the other night,” Sonic added, hoping to jog the little guy’s memory, but he didn’t actually know how long it had been since that night. 

He didn’t have Silver’s neat little time travel gizmos. His comm couldn’t pinpoint where he was in time, only in space. Which meant he couldn’t stay long, because if Tails or anyone else tried to ping his location, it’d probably come up blank. 

The Tails sitting in front of him drew his legs up, curling into himself a bit the closer Sonic got. Okay, well maybe he was a little afraid. Sonic stopped short of reaching the tree stump, hoping a reassuring smile would get him the rest of the way.

“My name’s Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. What’s yours?”

Tails stared at him for a moment, until his gaze slowly slid past him to focus on the tree line behind him. Sonic planted his hands on his hips and canted his head back to see if anything was there, but aside from the buzz of insects and rustling of flickies in the leaves, the forest was still. No one else but the two of them smack dab in the middle of it.

“…Mom?” Tails whispered, grabbing onto one of his tails to hold.

Sonic’s smile slowly slid off his muzzle. In all the time he’d known Tails, he’d never once called for his mom. Not a single cry. By the time he came into Tails’s life, whatever innate trust he’d had for this faceless person had completely evaporated. There was only one person Tails had ever called out for, ever cried for, ever searched for when he was lost or scared or lonely.

Sonic swallowed thickly. “I don’t know where your mom is, bud. You waiting for her?” Tails nodded with the most intense certainty, his ears flopping forward and back with the force of it. “Did she… did she say when she’s coming back?” 

This time Tails pursed his mouth as he thought carefully about his answer, his pensive expression the same one he’d still make to this day when he debated how to explain something to him. If he should explain something to him. If he should give his big bro a glimpse into the inner workings of his big brain, or if it’d be easier—safer—to keep it all to himself.

And just where’d he pick up that particular trick?

But this Tails was young enough—hadn’t been hurt enough—to trust someone who looked like a grown-up, so he slowly shook his head in response, wide blue eyes gazing up at him like there’d be some sort of prize if he answered all the questions correctly. 

Sonic’s brow furrowed. “Do you know how long it’s been since you last saw her?”

“Long.” The small, squeaky voice was so matter-of-fact, Sonic nearly fell over with the sheer amount of joy a single syllable filled him with; his little bro’s attitude had been baked into him from the start.

“I’ll bet,” he huffed out a chuckle, choosing to sit cross-legged in the grass so he wasn’t towering over Tails like some kind of threat. “You like planes?” Sonic glanced meaningfully at the toy plane still discarded in the grass.

Tails glanced down at it, the tip of his tail in his mouth as he gently chewed on it. “Mmhm.”

Though Tails had long-outgrown the habit of chewing on his own tails, Sonic would still occasionally catch him nibbling on the ends of pens and pencils when he was deep in thought or starting to get hungry. Or, at least, he used to. Back before Sonic had been captured and Tails had been out on his own for six months…

“I like ‘em, too,” Sonic piped up with a grin. “Probably my favorite way to travel! Second to running, of course.”

Tails blinked at him, head canting to one side. Sonic’s smile grew and he scooched forward a couple inches, steadily closing the gap between them.

“Y’see, running’s sort of my thing. What kinda things do you like to do?”

Tails glanced down at the toy plane again, then up at the sky. He pointed shyly at the white, puffy clouds slowly floating by overhead. Sonic followed his gaze, unable to help the way his smile crooked to one side.

“You like to watch the clouds?” Sonic filled in for him, beaming when Tails nodded. “Me too. You ever look for shapes in ‘em?”

The little guy’s brow furrowed. “Shapes?”

Sonic laughed as the perplexed, and ultimately unconvinced, expression remained fixed on Tails’s face. “C’mere, I’ll show ya!”

Unceremoniously flopping onto his back, face turned towards the sky, Sonic patted the grass beside him. Though they were mostly shielded by the thick cover of trees, a light breeze still wafted down into the clearing and carried the salty scent of the sea with it. The stands of grass tickled Sonic’s side as he laid back and took a deep breath, listening for the familiar patter of eager footsteps following his lead.

Except they didn’t come.

Sonic pushed himself up onto his elbows. Tails was still curled up atop the tree stump, chewing on the tip of his tail as he watched him with worry in his eyes. Worry that had no place being there in a kid so young.

So Sonic cracked another smile. “Don’t worry. The floor’s not lava,” he teased, but it was something the toddler obviously didn’t understand. “It’s safe, bud. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Promise.”

Tails’s gaze darted to the treeline again, searching amongst their thick trunks and low-hanging branches before snapping back to Sonic. “Mm… s’pposed to wait here,” he mumbled, his words sounding a little thick as some of his syllables slurred together in a mouth that was still so small, but ultimately what he’d said was clear enough for Sonic to understand.

His smile slowly faded as he processed the simple explanation; the same feeling rising in the back of his throat as when he sat with a sick Tails in the cabin while the kid asked if he could go home. “Your mom tell ya that?”

Tails nodded. “Wait here. Be good.” His little face scrunched up in a look of pure, earnest determination. “Wait here an’ be good, then mom will come back. She said… she said.”

But she wouldn’t.

No one would.

And maybe Tails already knew that. Even if he didn’t want to believe that someone he loved would leave him, he’d always been a smart kid. Tails’s tiny claws caught in the fur of his tail as he clung tighter to it—like he could physically cling to the hope that his mom would still come back if he did this one thing really well.

If he did his very best.

“Look Sonic, I made this for you!”

“Sonic, I’ve made some adjustments to the Tornado’s aerodynamics, so her base speed has more than doubled! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I made a radar to help us track the Chaos Emeralds faster!”

“I still need to optimize your Extreme Gear’s turning radius and acceleration for your next race. It’s not good enough.”

“The Cyclone still has a ways to go in terms of balancing its different modes of transport. It’s just not good enough at land or air travel yet.”

“I’m wildly inconsistent. I’m just a burden to you. I’m not good enough.”

Not good enough.

Sonic’s fingers dug a little firmer into the soft, damp soil beneath the grass. “Well, I mean, ya gotta get off that stump sometimes. What about when you get hungry? You leave to go get food, dontcha?”

Tails stiffened, fur frizzed up like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial mint chocolate chip cookie jar. “Don’t tell,” he pleaded, eyes wide as panicked tears welled up. “I’m sorry—”

“Woah. Hey, hey, hey,” Sonic sat up straighter so he could lift his hands, using them to make a calming gesture as Tails’s little chest started to heave with each little gasp. “Easy there, bud. I’m not gonna tell her.”

“…Not?”

Despite the storm brewing just beneath the surface, faced with further confirmation that Tails had never truly felt safe or wanted, he refused to scare the kid with its intensity. Offering up a kind smile and reassurance, Sonic held up a finger to his mouth. Like they were keeping secrets from some nameless authority figure they’d never shared. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Tails’s ears perked up and the grip on his tail eased up. “M’kay…”

“M’kay,” Sonic mimicked, smile growing as he watched Tails scrub at his face with the fur of his forearm. “C’mere, kiddo. Watch the clouds with me.”

Tails looked at him for a moment, then scooted closer to the edge of the tree stump. He swung one leg over, then the other, his little boots scraping against the bark as he eased himself down. He was a little off-balance as he toddled over. Both arms splayed out to steady himself as one tail flicked up and the other was dragged behind him, still as limp and awkward as it had been on the stump.

Sonic’s gaze narrowed in on it immediately. “Didja hurt your tail?”

Tails paused and craned his neck back, wobbling a little as he tried to look behind him. “No,” he answered simply.

“Then how come it’s not up like your other one?”

Tails reached behind him and picked up the limp appendage, hugging it to his chest. “Doesn’t do it.”

Sonic’s frown deepened. “Let me see it.”

Tails didn’t even hesitate. He let go of his tail as he waddled right over to him. He turned his back to him, giving him complete access to the part of his body he protected the most. Sonic was the only one he’d learned to trust with them over the years, but he’d had to earn it. 

Sonic gently ran his fingers through the fur, watching his baby brother’s posture for any sign of discomfort. He didn’t flinch, but his good tail started wagging almost immediately, thwacking Sonic in the side of the face. 

“Careful with that,” he chuckled, catching it in a loose hold when it smacked him again. “You could take someone’s eye out with one of these bad boys. Here, hold onto this for me.”

He waited for Tails to grab onto his eager tail, hugging it hard when it wiggled uncontrollably. “S’tryna get away,” he giggled.

“Oh boy, better get a good grip. It’s a slippery one, that tail,” Sonic laughed, using the distraction to his advantage as he palpated along the base of the weaker tail with his fingertips.

There was barely any muscle to it, and the fur was patchy and matted, flattened in a way that his other tail clearly wasn’t, even though his fur overall could’ve used a good brushing. But it wasn’t injured, no welts or bruises or cuts. It was just… weak. Like it was developing slower than its twin. He’d caught a glimpse of it that night where he was sick, but now that he was getting a good look at it, the differences between the two were stark. He couldn’t imagine why; Sonic’s brain literally wouldn’t let him conceive of a situation where this would happen—where Tails wasn’t allowed to use one tail to the same extent as the other.

Whatever had caused this had reversed itself by the time Sonic met Tails, both little propellers of equal strength. At least, he thought they were. To be fair, he’d only been eleven and he hadn’t looked all that closely at them. And Tails barely let him patch him up from where he’d been smacked around by bullies or badniks in those first few weeks.

Idly petting along the length of his tail, Sonic stilled when it spasmed against his palm. Just looking at it, he’d have thought he accidentally pulled on it or snagged his fur, but there was a gentle rumbling sound emanating from Tails’s chest that assured him otherwise. Sonic flicked his gaze up to see Tails watching him, a smile on his face while he purred openly. His tail jerked in his hold again. It was trying to wag.

Sonic’s shoulders sagged, his own smile lopsided as he let his tail slip from his grasp. “All clear. Time to park those two tails of yours right here on the runway.”

Tails squeaked as Sonic nabbed him around the middle, but dissolved into a fit of giggles as he was lifted up and plopped down on the grass next to him. Kicking up one leg over the other, Sonic laid back once again, arms pillowed behind his head as he let out a contented sigh. Beside him, Tails laid back and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, both tails swept to the same side so they wouldn’t get pinched underneath him. He tilted his head up to look at the sky, the same color reflected back in his eyes.

“Shapes?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re gonna look for shapes, little buddy,” Sonic hummed. “Go ahead and tell me what ya find.”

Tails considered the sky for a moment, then pointed at a blob above them. “Oval.”

A sharp laugh burst right out of Sonic. “Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed when Tails pouted at him. “Not those kinda shapes, pal. I’m talking things like flickies or flowers or chili dogs! But good first try. I’m thinking that one looks more like… a whale.”

“Whale?”

“Uh-huh. See the tail?” Sonic removed one hand from behind his head so he could trace the oblong cloud as it faintly curved upwards at the end, making sure Tails’s eyes followed where he pointed. “And there’s its fin. And the wispy bits at the top are like the water shooting out of its spout.”

“Spout,” Tails echoed, blinking up at it like he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“Yeah, you know. Like when they come up from the water and all that mist sprays from that hole on top of their heads like…” A devious grin spread across Sonic’s face before he looped his arm around Tails and dragged him close enough to blow a raspberry against his cheek with a loud, “pbbbbbbfffft!”

Tails squealed, legs kicking as he squirmed about instinctively, but made no move to pull away entirely. The ticklish sensation buzzed through him like a bunch of tiny butterflies; the feeling silly, unfamiliar, and almost overwhelming all at once. He eventually pawed at Sonic’s muzzle, pushing it away from the fluffy, baby fur of his cheek, but he was smiling and laughing as he looked over at him, eyes shining with delight.

“Was that funny?” Sonic snickered.

“Yeah!” Tails beamed at him, his tails beating an inconsistent rhythm against the grass. “You’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” Sonic feigned offense. “Excuse me, but seems to me like you’re the funny one, wiggling around over here like a cup of sparkle gelatin!”

“No!” Tails squeaked, curling up when Sonic poked him in the tummy. 

“No?” Sonic eased back, reminding himself to reign it in a bit so he could figure out if the “no” was just in play or if he was serious. 

As much as he wanted to give this little guy something to smile and laugh about while he was out here on his own—and it was so easy, it was almost intoxicating when he hadn’t seen his brother’s smile in weeks—he didn’t want to overwhelm the kid. But as he let him go and pulled back, a panicked look flashed in Tails’s eyes. His smile fell and a fear that was too big for a guy so small replaced it as he froze up.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Sonic lowered his voice, but even that didn’t stop the tears from suddenly sprouting in the corners of his eyes. “Was that too much? Sorry, kiddo. Not really used to you like this. I don’t know your limits.”

Tails didn’t answer him, probably because he didn’t know how. He was a baby, after all. Four-year-old Tails had often had trouble expressing how he felt or what he wanted. And heck, even ten-year-old Tails was still facing that particular issue. He couldn’t expect a maybe-two-year-old to know…

Tails’s tiny paw reached for Sonic’s arm, the light touch barely registering as anything other than an itch before his fingers curled into his fur. Sonic stared at his hand for a second, then immediately darted to his face. Tails sniffed, muzzle quivering as he held back his tears.

Always sucking it up. Always putting on a brave face. Always trying to be a big kid, like his big bro.

Even when he was just a baby.

“It’s okay,” Sonic repeated, his arm curling around Tails again. “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

Tails nestled against his side, nuzzling his face against him with a shiver and a barely suppressed whimper. “Mom… dad…”

The storm returned with a white-hot flash of frustration and resentment. Sonic directed his glare at the cloud whale lazily floating past them, since he couldn’t look the people responsible for this in the eyes. Not that he particularly wanted to. If they never crossed paths, his and Tails lives would only continue on for the better. That was one thing he was still certain of. There was nothing in the universe that could convince him otherwise.

Not even the baby who desperately wanted them.

But he didn’t know any better. They were all he knew. 

Releasing a long sigh, Sonic let go of the past and pulled himself back into the present—or, well, two-year-old Tails’s present anyway. He patted Tails’s side, then ruffled his fur a bit when he cuddled closer. His fur tickled as he rubbed his little face against his ribs, so Sonic scooched him up a bit more until his cheek was pillowed against his shoulder.

“Sorry if I scared you, bud,” he hummed, watching as one of Tails’s ears twitched from the lull of his voice. “Didn’t mean to. You’re safe with me, okay? When I’m around, I’m always gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Tails tipped his head back to watch him, silently absorbing his words, even if he didn’t understand them. But as Sonic looked down at him, he saw his four-year-old brother snuggling up to him in a storm and his six-year-old brother falling asleep on him during a movie and his eight-year-old brother trying to be strong for Sonic as they lost another friend… He could see all of Tails in the way he looked at him, every moment where he let Sonic see a little of that vulnerability he always tried so hard to hide.

He could even see his ten-year-old brother, hundreds of miles away, determined to bury that vulnerable little kid for good, somewhere Sonic would never find him. And that was fine. If that was what Tails wanted, then Sonic wanted that for him. He wanted Tails to feel confident and capable and every bit the hero Sonic saw in him every day.

“And even when I’m not here… when you can’t see me? I’ll still be with you. Wherever you go, whatever you face, you won’t have to do it alone.”

Tails sniffed, then lifted his head to gaze up at him. “Pomise?”

Sonic’s breath hitched, his eyes as wide as saucers as the fox kit who’d only known him for a few minutes at most looked at him with nothing but trust. “Yeah. I promise.” He had to clear his throat, then tugged Tails up to sit on his chest. “You’ve got no idea just how stuck with me you are, keed.”

“No idea,” Tails repeated, shaking his head with the utmost seriousness a two-year-old could express.

Sonic’s laughter traveled through him and right up into Tails, the two of them shaking with it. The feeling of being bounced about coaxed a few giggles out of Tails and he nearly slid off his unsteady perch. But Sonic’s hands supported him, holding tight so he wouldn’t fall.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Sonic choked out as his laughter petered out on a breathless sigh. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“M’kay,” Tails agreed.

“M’kay.” With one hand remaining on Tails’s waist, Sonic lifted the other to poke him on the tip of his nose, grinning at the way he went cross-eyed from following his finger. “I’m gonna follow up on that in eight years, y’know, so better work on committing that to memory, stat.”

“M’kay.”

“I mean it. There’ll be a test and everything.”

“M’kay.”

“You’re so agreeable,” Sonic sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his head back, leaving the comfortable weight of the baby fox on his abdomen. “I don’t think I know what to do with a little bro that actually listens to me.”

He felt Tails squirm a bit, one knee digging into his ribs as he attempted to scoot further up, then a finger lightly tapped Sonic on the tip of his nose. One green eye cracked open, immediately greeted with a pair of pleased blue ones and a wagging fox tail. Despite the fact that it was pinned beneath him, pressed into the grass, Sonic felt his tail give a jerky little wag, too.

“Shapes?” Tails asked.

“You wanna look for more shapes in the clouds?” Sonic waited for Tails’s eager nod before turning him around and laying him back in the grass beside him. “You got it, bud! You need a redemption round, after all. Let’s see what kinda shapes you can find this time.”

Tails hummed, contemplative gaze fixed on the clouds for a good minute before he pointed slightly to his left. “Floor!”

“Floor?” Sonic squinted up at the cloud, making sure he was looking at the right one. “Oh, ‘flower!’ Yeah, that does kinda look like a tulip flower. Good eye, kiddo.”

Tails nodded proudly. “Mmhm. Floor.”

“Flower,” Sonic repeated, and even made the sign for it, touching each side of his nose with his fingertips, like he was smelling a flower.

“Floor-er.”

“Close enough,” he chuckled. “Oh, okay, now that one looks like a crab claw. Like from a crabmeat.” Grinning devilishly, Sonic made a claw-like grabby motion at Tails with his hand while the little guy laughed. “Or, y’know, an actual crab.”

They watched the clouds, picking more shapes out of them until Tails’s stomach started growling. Sonic quickly sped through the forest to gather up whatever kind of fruits or vegetables were available on the island, eventually settling on some peaches, plums, and cherries. He grabbed them from the other side of the island, so as not to take from anywhere Tails was likely to forage on his own. He liked the plums and peaches, the sticky juice staining his muzzle as it dripped from his hands. He kept trying to lick his fingers clean while Sonic wiped the fur around his mouth so it wouldn’t bother him later when it dried. He didn’t care for the cherries as much, but Sonic still left a small stash of them and the leftover peaches at the base of the tree stump.

With a full tummy and sticky paws, Tails let out a big, squeaky yawn before he curled up on top of the tree stump. His tails covered him like a blanket as he settled down for a nap, giving Sonic just the out he needed. He’d been debating how to head back to his present time without sounding any alarms for Tails. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d be able to if the kid just looked at him with those sad eyes, like he was being abandoned all over again.

But if Tails was asleep, then maybe this would all have felt like just a dream. Sonic had just wanted to check on him after leaving him so abruptly that first time, and then he figured it couldn’t hurt to give him one good afternoon. There would be so many days where he’d be on his own after this, so many months before their paths would cross. One afternoon where a stranger showed him kindness and played with him wasn’t going to break the time stream, but even Sonic knew it couldn’t really go further than that.

“I’d break time lines for that kid.” His own words echoed at the back of his mind, the certainty he’d felt at the time faltering when faced with the sleepy face of a baby fox who wasn’t supposed to have met him yet. It wasn’t so simple.

Sonic waited until Tails’s breaths were deep and steady, arms wrapped around the weaker tail while the stronger one blanketed him with its fluff. Smoothing down his bangs with his thumb, Sonic gently stroked the top of his head and scritched behind his ear.

“Love ya, little bro,” he whispered.

Things would be okay, Sonic reminded himself as he backed out of the clearing, picking up the two emeralds that were his ticket back to his time. Because they were okay in the present. Even if Tails wouldn’t be there when he returned, they would still be okay. Eventually. They always came out on top. Sonic still believed that.

If there was anything he still believed in above all else, it was Tails.

So, to be fair, when he left the Poloy Forest that afternoon, it had been with the intention that this wouldn’t happen again.

But then, Sonic the Hedgehog’s impulse control wasn’t his claim to fame, was it?

---

A/N: Anyway, just wanted to say thank you again, 0vergrown, and that I appreciate you so much! I'm so happy you're interested in this little side plot I've got brewing and all the angst potential that it holds <3 I have so many little scenes I want to write for them, you have no idea! Hope this scratches a bit of the itch for more of these boys who need so much therapy. So much...

And thank you everyone else who's also interested in this idea! Much love to all of you!

[horny-marbles]

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚔 (𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝/𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

CW: dubcon, gun play (not really play lol), oral giving, outside sex (cause its not really public), creampie, some corpse mentions NOT NECRO just a witness XD

word count 3.1k

this is a request from @erenasia <33

summary: tim drives by some fields after a mission, finds you trying to bury a body real amateur style (guys i went to the countryside and passed by some cornfields on the road and i felt inspired)

The headlights of the Mercury Milan sliced through the dark like a boxcutter through soft meat. They bounced off dew-damp corn stalks, high and looming like teeth, catching in the dust kicked up by worn tires on a narrow dirt road. The engine hummed low, tense like a held breath.

Tim's mask lay on the passenger seat, its mouth smiling back at him like a mockery of what it's seen, crusted with blood. Someone else’s. Not a clean kill, but not messy either—efficient, brutal, mindless. His hands still trembled from it, even if his brain didn’t. That kind of guilt didn’t sink into him anymore. Not deep.

He just needed to drive. To think. To not think. Something.

The radio was off. The windows were cracked just enough to let in the scent of dead grass, distant manure, cold dirt, and something more metallic—maybe his imagination, maybe the speckles of blood still drying on the sleeve of his jacket. His fingers tightened around the wheel as the road curved.

And then... The hell?

He blinked. Slowed.

A shape out there in the dark, just past the line of corn. Still. Humanoid. Like a scarecrow had lost its pole.

Then it moved. Arm lifting. Metal glinting in the moonlight.

Shovel.

The blade came down with a crunch into the earth. Again. And again.

Who the fuck digs a hole in a cornfield at 2 a.m.?

His foot eased onto the brake. The Milan huddled to a stop on the uneven dirt. The engine idled while he watched, eyes narrowed. After a moment, he cut the headlights and killed the ignition, dropping the world into shadow.

Tim grabbed his mask from the seat, but didn’t put it on, not yet. Just held it by the side, fingers tapping blood-dried plastic. He slipped the gun from the glovebox and tucked it under his jacket.

He moved quiet through the stalks. Soft steps. Careful breath. Eyes sharp.

You didn’t hear him at all.

Whoever you were, you weren’t good at being sneaky. Too busy digging, too busy breathing hard, each slam of the shovel into the earth screaming louder than any instinct in your head. The dirt was wet beneath, the kind that clung to the blade like it knew what you were doing. You didn’t hear the crunch of his boots behind you. Didn’t hear the husks sway as he slipped between them.

He stood close. Watched. Your arms shook a little with each lift. Not from weakness, but from adrenaline, probably. There was a body at your feet, awkwardly twisted, half wrapped in a dirty tarp. Tim took in the blood on your sleeves, mirroring the splatters painting his forearms.

The click of a gun's safety going off was the first thing you heard.

You screamed.

The shovel clanged against the dirt as you spun, one hand diving into your pocket fast and smooth like you’d done this part before. Tim didn’t flinch. He was already aiming, finger near the trigger, gun leveled at your forehead.

And then his voice came, rough; muffled, but calm.

“That’s not how you get rid of a body.”

You froze, facing the figure in the dark, edges softened by shadow, mask catching faint light. White with eyeholes black as sin, blood spattered like something had clawed at it. Dried red. Sharp lines. A face that wasn’t a face at all.

Your fingers wrapped around the pocketknife tighter, heart punching your ribs, panic flipping instantly into fight, but you didn’t pull it. Yet.

He didn’t move, didn’t twitch. His stance was relaxed, gun casual in his grip like it lived there.

“Try it,” he said after a beat. Same tone. Like he was daring you. Like he wanted you to.

Adrenaline surged, white-hot and bitter. Your fingers itched. You weren’t sure if it was rage or terror or both. The dead guy at your feet felt a thousand miles away now.

“What the fuck do you want?” you spat, voice tighter than you meant it to be.

He tilted his head—slow, considering.

“Just watching,” he said. “Curious.”

“Curious?” Your laugh came out shaky and sharp. “You got blood on your... face.”

He didn’t deny it.

The tension jumped, fast and mean. Like both of you realized, at the same moment, that you weren’t so different. That you could both be killers.

Or something close enough.

The wind shifted. Corn rustled. His boots stepped once toward you, crunching dry stalks underfoot. Deliberate. You didn’t move, but your heart pounded so loud it made you dizzy.

His mask tilted again, slower this time, like he was studying you. The way your chest heaved. The grip you had on that knife. The heat rising between fear and something stranger.

He didn’t lower the gun. You didn’t lower your guard.

But your mouth opened anyway.

“…You gonna shoot me or stare at me all night?”

The pause that followed felt like thunder trapped in your chest.

His response was low, muffled by the mask. Like gravel and smoke, like a threat veiled in a challenge.

“…Depends what you do next.”

You stared him down, throat dry, body hot with a strange cocktail of nerves and defiance. The gun didn’t waver. Neither did his voice. He had you at a disadvantage, and you both fucking knew it.

But that didn’t stop you from snapping, “Then shoot me. Or get out of my way.”

He took another step closer. The barrel followed you like a magnet. You could see his chest rise and fall beneath the yellow jacket, steady but heavy—like he was thinking too much. Watching too hard.

Then, slowly, his free hand raised.

“You’re gonna zip that mouth,” he said, tone dipped in something darker, “if you know what’s good for you.”

Your lip curled. “I could say the same to you. What are you even doing out here?”

Another beat.

“Cleaning up a mess,” he said flatly. “Like you.”

The mask never moved, but something in the air twitched—a beat of shared understanding. Ugly and human. You’d both taken a life, for whatever fucked-up reasons.

You stepped back. Slight. Defiant.

His gun didn’t move.

“So,” you said coolly, “we both go our separate ways and pretend this never happened?”

“No,” he said. Simple. Sharp.

You blinked. “Why not?”

“’Cause you saw me,” he muttered. “And I saw you. Can’t let you walk.”

Something flipped in your gut, something fast and furious. Your fingers curled tighter around the knife. “You don’t have to kill me.”

"...No. I don’t.”

A pause.

“But you’re gonna do something for me.”

You didn’t like the way he said it. Slow. Heavy. Full of grit and promise. Your eyes narrowed in silent question, but he didn’t answer with words.

He just reached down, popped the button of his jeans. One hand still on the gun, still pointed at you, the other slipped his zipper down slow and smooth, like he wasn’t in any kind of rush. Like he already knew you weren’t going anywhere.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“Get on your knees,” he said. Not a request. Not even a threat. Just a fact.

You scoffed. “You’re outta your fuckin’ mind—”

But his gun snapped forward.

Now it was right against your forehead. Cold steel, his breath steady.

“You want me to keep your little cornfield secret? Wanna leave without a hole in your head?” he said low, voice dropping like a weight. “Then get to work.”

Your breath hitched.

You could feel your own heartbeat pounding against the muzzle. It would’ve been terrifying if you weren’t so high on the adrenaline. On the sick, wrong heat crawling up your spine.

You dropped to your knees, slow, never breaking eye contact with that blank mask. Your knife stayed sheathed. For now.

His cock was already half-hard when you pulled it out—thick, heavy, veiny. You didn’t even get to say something smart before he shoved the gun harder against your forehead like he was warning you not to try it.

But you did. Just a little.

Your fingers wrapped around the base—tight. Your other hand reached down, not-so-gently cupping his balls. Squeezing.

His hips jerked once, and then—click.

The safety on the gun flicked off again. You froze.

That steel was really pressed to your head now, the bore leaving a perfect circle indented into your skin. His cock twitched in your grip.

“…Try that shit again,” he said low. Almost growled. “See how fast I paint this field red.”

You didn’t smile. But god, you wanted to.

Instead, you loosened your grip, just enough. Let your tongue drag slow over the head, tasting salt and sweat and copper. His breathing stuttered. The tension spiked.

Your lips wrapped around the head, dry at first—on purpose. Petty, even now. You didn’t give him spit. You didn’t give him tongue. Just warm pressure and narrowed eyes, daring him to push you, as if he hadn't given you enough proof that he would.

The gun ground harder into your forehead, cold metal biting skin, nudging your head back slightly, but not enough to push you off his cock.

“You think I’m playing with you?” he muttered. His voice was rough now, strained. “Open the fuck up.”

You breathed deep through your nose and let your tongue drag slow along the underside. Fine. You could play nice.

You spit thick over the shaft, let your lips get wet, your chin slick. He hissed above you. Not satisfaction—more like tension. Like every second of this was testing the line between control and carnage.

You sank lower. Your throat tightened around him, and he groaned—deep and raw behind the mask.

The barrel of the gun wobbled slightly, pressure easing just enough to let your head bob. The hand holding it was trembling now, fingers tightening around the grip. You could see the way his thighs flexed, how hard his breath came through the plastic of that mask.

You went deeper. Let your jaw relax. Sloppy now. Filthy. Drool smeared your chin, and the wet sounds of your mouth echoed between the corn stalks like something ungodly. His cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged, loud and rough.

“Fuck—” he bit out, voice shaking. “Keep choking, come on."

You didn’t stop, even as you felt that red-hot defiance rush back in. You couldn’t. He was still holding the fucking gun. Still pressing it to your head like a warning, like he didn’t trust you not to bite.

Fair.

You moaned around him, let the vibrations hum down his shaft. His legs buckled slightly and his free hand shot out, fisting a chunk of your hair. He pulled you down harder, buried himself deep. Your nose smashed into his pelvis, the smell of sweat and blood in your lungs.

You gagged again—wet, raw, and he held you there.

“Yeah, that’s more like it,” he muttered, breath hitching. “You wanna walk away from this, you better show me you’re worth the secret.”

Tears burned your eyes, spit bubbling around your lips, dripping down your neck in thick strands. But your hands stayed firm—one stroking the base, the other braced on his thigh. You let him fuck your mouth, let him use you like he owned you, even though every bone in your body screamed rebellion.

He was panting now. The gun twitched, no longer pointed steady—half-forgotten in the storm of sensation.

You felt it, the shift when his voice cracked.

“Shit—fuck—keep going, don’t fucking stop—”

You didn’t. You went harder, sloppier. Every stroke louder than the last, your throat abused and sore, spit coating your chest. You were a fucking mess for him. A threat with tears on your cheeks and a gun at your temple.

The taste of him still clung to your tongue when he yanked you up by the hair, rough and quick and with no warning, dragging you into the shadows of the corn.

You stumbled, knees hitting the ground hard, dirt caking your palms as they smacked the earth. The shovel lay discarded. The covered corpse you were planting sat inches away—still fresh, still leaking. You barely noticed.

Tim did.

He shoved you forward, your stomach hitting the ground, hands catching on the black plastic tarp draped over the body. You gripped it without thinking, just to stay steady. Just to brace yourself.

He dropped to his knees behind you. The cold barrel of the gun slid along your spine before settling at your ribs. Just a reminder.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled, voice low, ragged.

He was already unbuckling his belt, already shoving jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself properly this time. His cock hung mean and heavy—still wet with your spit, tip and veins glistening under the sliver of moonlight peeking through the corn.

You didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Every nerve in your body was screaming, vibrating with adrenaline, fear, lust.

The blunt head of him pressed to your hole—no prep, no softness. Just raw intent.

“Wait—” you started, but the gun jabbed harder into your ribs.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “You want it gentle, don’t bury bodies in the middle of my goddamn path.”

He lined up fast. No warning, no mercy, no real prep beyond the spit he roughly smoothed over his cock in one swipe like an afterthought. He pushed in, slow, but not kind.

The stretch burned. Dirt clung to your knees and forearms, your fingers clawing into the tarp in front of you, knuckles brushing the dead man’s shoulder through the plastic. You grit your teeth, gasped out a choked curse.

Behind the mask, Tim’s jaw clenched.

He hated this.

Not you. Not the act. This.

The constant pressure. The guilt. The fucking fog in his brain that never let up. Slender’s influence gnawed at the edge of his mind like static. Kill after kill, command after command. He hadn’t felt human in months, fuck, maybe even years. He couldn't keep up anymore.

But this?

The tight heat of you clenching around his cock, the way you whimpered when he pushed in to the hilt, this was real.

He rammed into you, pace brutal from the start. His fingers dug into your hip with bruising force, the other hand still holding the gun flush against your side. Every thrust shoved you forward, your hands scrabbling at the corpse tarp in a grotesque search for purchase.

“F-fuck—” you gasped, half into the ground. “You’re—”

“I said fucking quiet,” he growled, breath hot and ragged behind the mask. “You fucked up. You're lucky I'm not a cop. I'm giving you dick instead of 30 to life. So shut up and take it.”

You did.

You took it like the air in your lungs depended on it. Let the filth smear your skin, let the pain and pressure drown out the reality of what was happening. You didn’t know his name. Didn’t know his face.

All you knew was the heat of him inside you, the gun pressed to your ribs, and the sick thrill in your chest that came from being fucked to shreds in the dirt next to the motherfucker you’d killed.

Tim pounded into you harder, teeth gritted behind the mask. His thoughts flickered—blood on his hands, commands in his head, corpses he didn’t want to leave behind. You were just another mistake. Another bad decision to add to the pile.

But fuck, you felt good.

Better than the pills.

Better than the guilt.

He pulled the gun away from your ribs, just for a second—and slapped it across your ass with a sharp crack. Not playful. Just to hear you yelp.

Then he shoved it right back into place, making you squirm and arch away from it.

"Better hold the fuck still,” he muttered, voice strained but barely shaking, “unless you wanna find out what a hollow point feels like from the inside."

Your whole body shook—maybe from fear, maybe from the slow spiral of ecstasy building deep in your gut. The world narrowed to the punishing rhythm of his hips slamming into your ass, the cold of the weapon, the wet slick sounds of bodies colliding in a graveyard of your own making.

It was fucking depraved, but it got you babbling.

Every nerve ending had turned electric, your limbs trembling, body barely hanging together. His cock slammed into you harder, rougher, like he was trying to force his guilt out through your skin. Like you were the confessional booth, and he was absolving his sins one brutal thrust at a time.

Then, his hand curled into the back of your hair. The cold barrel of the gun shifted from your ribs to your neck, and he shoved your face into the dirt.

Not enough to suffocate, but enough to taste earth, feel it scrape your tongue, mud worming past your lips as you gasped for breath.

“Take it,” he snarled above you. “Fucking take it.”

You screamed into the soil when he came, hips stuttering, cock twitching deep inside you as he filled you up—hot and heavy, pulse after pulse of filthy, broken release. You could feel it leaking already, mixing with sweat and spit and dirt between your thighs.

His grip didn’t let up until the tremors in his body faded. He panted hard above you, fingers tightening once more in your hair—then letting go. You collapsed fully, face still half-buried in the ground, lungs burning.

Tim stood, zipping up, adjusting the mask. The weight of the moment hung between you like smoke.

You didn’t dare move, didn't dare lower your hips back to the ground. Not yet. Not with the gun still in his hand.

He stared down at you for a long moment, chest rising and falling.

And then, his voice came as if nothing had happened, calm even as he caught his breath.

“Next time—dig the hole first.”

You blinked, dazed. “…What?”

“Amateur shit,” he muttered, wiping dirt off the side of the gun with the hem of his shirt, stuffing it back into the pocket of his jeans. “Always dig the hole first. Then kill ‘em. Saves time. Keeps the scent down.”

You rolled onto your side with a groan, dirt smearing your cheek, thighs slick with cum and shame and something that felt dangerously close to satisfaction.

He was already walking away.

Just—back through the corn, calm like a fucking ghost. His silhouette swallowed by the stalks, vanishing without a sound, only leaving the acrid whiff of tobacco smoke behind him as he lit a cigarette.

You didn’t even catch his name.

Didn’t know if you'd ever see him again, didn't know if you'd want to, actually.

But the breeze carried the faint slam of a car door, the low rumble of an engine firing up, and then radio silence.

You were alone again.

Except for the body.

And the ache between your legs.

And the way your heart wouldn’t stop racing, not even as the moon hung high and judgmental above your half-finished grave.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Vergil and his s/o training together

Or Vergil and his s/o spar for foreplay fun!

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: With your sword recently broken, Vergil gave you a new devil arm to get used to. He is also your mentor when it comes to fighting - but being his lover doesn't mean he's going to go easy on you. Quite the contrary.

Restrictions: None, BUT I should tell you: lots of sexual tension in this one. What can I say, Vergil is a weird guy, sparring with his lover does things to him. Nothing explicit though, you know how I roll. Also, reader gets bruises from training/sparring. He's rough and doesn't hold back, I mentioned it before I think Vergil has this "only the strong survive" mentality, and I do think he gets ruthless as a sign of respect for his lover's abilities rather than anything else.

Author's Notes: I blame @yanderebishforlevi for this one after they dropped an ask I just answered :) I'm focusing on the Halloween specials, but that made me go through my unfinished, discarded, short stuff on limbo and rehash/put it together to post something new here.

Simple stuff, not really much of a story, just some training with sexy, bared arms, ruthless, emotionally constipated man. That's why I never thought about posting, it felt like it was missing something a plot so I was going to put it in Nemesis but, oh well. Hope you guys like it xD

“We’re done for today.”

Vergil’s words sounded final, as he lowered the Yamato after a devastating blow that had you tumbling back and struggling to fall on your knees – scraping them in a way you would have some bruises to display for a couple of days at least.

“Given it’s my training session, love…” You growled while pulling yourself back on your feet, using your sword as a crutch for help. Vergil observed you with those cutting silvery eyes, almost as if questioning your resolve to pull yourself up. Again. “I say when we are done. And I am not done.”

“You are being terribly stubborn, that is.” Vergil had Yamato back in its sheath, arms crossed while curiously watching you take your coat off, having only your training clothes underneath.

“Well, at least we got that in common, Dark Slayer.” You carefully watched as Vergil mirrored you and took off his own long coat, leaving his arms bare for the first time that night. He only did that when he was about to get rough during training – and you had to huff a laugh. “I’m only standing down when I master this damned sword, and apparently I’m not even close to that.”

“You are closer than you were when we started.” He took a deep breath, already choosing a fighting stance since you were doing the same – walking slowly in a circle, observing him with a pair of predatorial eyes. Vergil was used to be under that scrutiny around demons, but when it came to your eyes, they were threatening… And bewitching.

“And I would be even closer, if you hadn’t been cheating this whole time.” You narrowed your eyes, allowing a smirk color the corner of your lips as Vergil froze in place – you could even bet he stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.

“Cheating…?” His voice was dangerously low, words alarmingly taking their time, savoring every syllable of that little word. You knew you had struck a nerve – but, in your defense, Vergil had been striking your nerves ever since you started training a few hours prior.

It had been a couple of weeks you had a new sword in your inventory: big, heavy, resembling a claymore. Dante and Vergil had killed one particularly powerful demon that ended up becoming the sword now in your hands: brimming with demonic power, ready to be wielded to bring doom to its enemies. You had your previous sword broken into shards while protecting Nero during one of your jobs – a story for another time – and Vergil thought the claymore of sorts would be a nice replacement.

A new weapon, though, meant a lot of new things: new grip, new balance, new weight, new powers… So much to master, but you had to learn soon in order to keep up with your devil hunter job. Halloween was approaching and, given how chaotic the last few years were, you had to at least master the basics soon enough.

Vergil, being the thoughtful partner and lover of knowledge that he was, offered to help you train and master your new sword – all his arcane teachings would surely come in handy when dealing with a devil arm.

You had a problem, though. Learning and mastering things on your own was almost a given, and you always expected to do it at your pace – meaning, you didn’t have much patience to not be at least good and easily fighting after a few hours of practice. With a mentor like Vergil, though, that process was taking double the time.

He was relentless. You being his lover just meant he would go twice as hard on you – in his dictionary, it probably meant how much he adored you; but in your dictionary, you were absolutely and infinitely vexed that, by now, you hadn’t been able to at least get to a tie with him.

And that was something you always proudly said you could do.

“Yes. Cheating.” You held your sword with only one hand, throwing it behind your body and having your eyes fixed on your lover. That way, when you or him decided to attack, you could use all your strength to lunge forward. “You got exponentially worse every time I lost and got back on my feet again; you haven’t made it easier nor remained with the same level of fighting from the beginning. You are making it more difficult for me. If you hadn’t, I would’ve already had my sword on your throat by now.”

“Tsk.” You smiled as Vergil finally had that nonchalant attitude, but his eyes burned like the coldest circles of Hell. With a swift move, he unsheathed the Yamato and attacked you – as you had already prepared before, you threw your sword forward, immediately able to parry. He quickly tried another attack, but you managed to grip your sword with both of your hands and hold him back. You found Vergil’s silvery eyes staring at you sharply between the blades of your swords. “Don’t expect demons to have mercy just because the sight of you eclipses even the moon herself.”

“If we weren’t sparring, I’d take that as a compliment.” You had a small laugh hidden amidst your words, clearly seeing the shadow of a smile Vergil tried to conceal before he pushed you back with only half of his might – still having you stumble back and use whatever energy you had left to keep your body balanced.

“Your human body won’t be able to take it for too long.” And even if Vergil was trying to convince you to stand down, he still circled you, keeping his own predatorial gaze on your form and tense shoulders to quickly get into a fighting stance. You weren’t one easy to convince when you had your mind set on something, that he had to admit. “We should call it a day and tend your wounds. Your body doesn’t have the same resilience a devil’s body has.”

“I would have a lot more if you hadn’t been ruthless with me, love.” You pointed at some slight marks on your body – nothing too jarring, but still making an appearance here and there. “These bruises are on you.”

With those words, it was your turn to lunge forward and attack first. Vergil easily defended with a swift move from Yamato, trying an attack right after. You managed to defend as well, holding him still for a few seconds.

“They will make you stronger.” Were the only words he managed to answer before you attacked again. Vergil seemed to fight effortlessly, while you had to muster all your strength to wield your new sword – Vergil was right to say your body wouldn’t last for too long: you were already tired, thanks to his training, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to back down. And he knew that.

Even if Vergil worried about your stamina, he couldn’t deny how much he admired – and had a pang of pride in his own heart – every time you displayed that much willpower.

With a calculated attack to disarm you, Vergil was certain your playing would come to an end and he would have the final word on that argument – he did not expect, though, a graceful move from your side, spinning such a heavy sword in one of your hands and making it face down, coming between you and him and completely breaking his stance, foiling Vergil’s attempt to end your resolve.

You quickly threw your sword a little on the air in front of you in order to let go from the grip and hold the blade itself – strong enough to be able to wield it, but careful not to hurt yourself in the process – which gave you the perfect opportunity to spin around him and smack the hilt of your sword on his back.

Vergil slowly turned his head around, still impressed by your swift move after being so tired, only to find you with a smug smile on your lips.

“It will make you stronger.” You pointed at him with the hilt of your sword, throwing it slightly in the air again so you could grab the hilt with one hand and then another.

Vergil kept his back at you, calmly walking to the other side of the room so you could take your initial stances again – but this time you saw him shaking his head and heard a low chuckle coming from him.

Vergil was a survivor, one that lived the law of the jungle for so long that sparring and teasing his partner was one of the best ways to entertain him. To say you were both having fun was an understatement.

“Apparently, I haven’t been ruthless enough with you.” He turned around, holding Yamato’s hilt with both of his hands. You had to hold back a smile – that was one of his stances that usually meant Vergil was starting to lose his patience and considering going all out.

And that usually happened when he recognized you were starting to get the upper hand – which meant he saw your playful sword smack as a sign you were starting to get the hang of things.

After all, you only did that sort of thing with your old sword. Comparing to the way you both used to spar, he was going considerably easier on you tonight.

“Let’s remedy that.” His voice was almost a growl as his feet moved like lightning on the floor.

You had to put all your concentration in that fight – your eyes never leaving the Yamato, quickly finding the blade in the air from its shimmer and parrying with your heavy claymore. Using your weight, you pushed Vergil back – which only worked because he saw it as an opportunity to power another heavy attack to try to get you off-balance. You stumbled a little, but quickly gained your balance once more, holding back another quick attack from your lover – something quite frustrating for him, as you observed in his furrowed brows.

Even if he wasn’t going easy on you, it was the first time Vergil was tapping into some of his demonic abilities – strength, speed and power, for starters – and you took that as a compliment. If he wasn’t going to cut you some slack, he could at least fight you the same way he always did – and Vergil never really held back when fighting you.

As he said before, it would only make you stronger. And that was why you could easily fight some of the most frightening demons of Hell without even breaking a sweat.

Vergil didn’t take long to attack you again. He had that look in his eyes he only used when he was hunting, leaving no room for mercy. You held your sword in a vertical position right in front of you, having the Yamato hit the flat blade of your claymore with enough power to have you and Vergil recoil a little from the impact.

Thankfully, your sword was sturdy enough to take a powerful blow from a legendary blade and its less than formidable wielder and not shatter. That was something you would remember later, for now Vergil attacked again and you defended, holding back a series of lightning quick attacks that required all your attention, strength and speed – as well as both of your hands holding your new sword in order to be able to avoid all of the attacks.

As expected, though, you hadn’t mastered your claymore yet. Your grip faltered in one of your hands, and Vergil’s predator eyes were quick enough to notice that and see a window of opportunity. Spinning the Yamato on his hand, Vergil gripped its hilt and used the butt-end to hit your hands and make you lose your grip on your sword.

As you tried to recover without losing too much of your stance, Vergil took the chance to spin around you – as you did before with him – and use the sheath of the Yamato to smack your back. A bit lower, and he would’ve smacked your ass – at least, he allowed you to keep a little of your pride, as you allowed him when you chose not to do that as well.

You immediately leaned the tip of your sword on the floor, side-eyeing your lover – only to find him with his head held high, that convinced expression he would always wear whenever he had the upper hand, along with a ghost of a smile you knew very well.

“Shall we continue…?” His words were crowned with his usual slight tinge of arrogance, as you turned around and adjusted your grip around the hilt of your sword. “Or will you finally yield and allow me to take care of those wounds?”

“As my lover, you should know, Vergil…” You sighed and snapped your neck from side to side, getting back into position to fight. He had to raise one of his eyebrows, ever so impressed with your resilience. “I do not yield.”

His only answer was a smile before your powerful attack, holding you back with the Yamato still sheathed, using one of his feet behind his body as an anchor so he wouldn’t fall over. Even in his wildest dreams, Vergil could never had imagined he would find someone who would give such flawless answers. Yes, he wanted to care for you. But how could he deny the fire he saw in you when you said such things? It was the same fire that kept him alive for so many years; the same fire that made him get back on his feet even when defeat was certain, when all hope was lost, and only death and blood were expected. The same fire that made Vergil defy all odds and save himself, over and over again.

He didn’t know how he had found you neither how he could deserve you, but he did hope you remained for as long as he could have you.

With another attack, he took the opportunity to unsheathe his sword, using both the blade and the sheath to defend himself from a string of attacks as ruthless as those he had attacked you before. You didn’t see an opportunity, but you knew Vergil relied on a few tricks up his metaphorical sleeves, so you acted quickly to do the same he did before – and with the hilt of your claymore, you weakened his grip on the sheath, quickly spinning your sword and hitting it with all your might, making the blue sheath fly across the training ground. Vergil immediately held Yamato’s grip with both of his hands, trying not to let his surprise show on his face.

You could see it in his silvery eyes, though. You already knew how to expertly access them, to find Vergil’s emotions underneath the icy façade he used to wear. You had an advantage that made your heart swell and bolstered your resolve – and that Vergil was also able to read in your eyes. He fought back, putting a little more of his strength and power into a few riposte attacks, stopping your advances and making you fall a few steps back.

It wouldn’t be fair if he started using his demonic might when your body was almost giving out – but Vergil had to recognize you were lasting a lot longer than he expected. He thought, by now, your physical body wouldn’t be able to keep going, completely unrelated to your willpower. But there you were, proving him wrong – and making him fall even more in love with you, if that was even possible.

Your hands trembled a bit, though. You kept your eyes locked in his, reading his every move, his every emotion – and Vergil did the same, as if your fight didn’t rely on your swords anymore. As he got ready for another devastating attack, your sword found his in the air and, spinning your blades together, you brought them down with a flick of your wrist, having them rest together a few inches inside the ground.

You turned your back for a few seconds to catch your breath, pain starting to ebb through your arms. Vergil took some steps back in amazement, since that move was a first: you had never taken a break from a fight by disarming him as well as yourself, even if for a few seconds; you only asked with words and it usually took a few minutes. He observed you carefully – part of him reading if your body was going to give out and part of him reading if you would jump on him unexpectedly. Vergil didn’t know what to expect, but he could feel his blood tingling at his fingertips, ready to take action with whatever it is that you had for him.

After a few seconds, you immediately turned around, locking your hands around the grip of your sword once more and lifting it from the ground. Vergil couldn’t believe you still wanted to fight – and even win – but mirrored your speed and had Yamato back in his grip once more.

A few more attacks. He could see your hands trembling. A few more steps. He could hear your shaking breaths. A few more swift moves. He could see the relentless fire inside your eyes.

Vergil didn’t make it easier because of your crumbling endurance – if you broke, it would serve as a lesson on assessing your own energy and how far you could go. As you knew right from the start, Vergil wasn’t a forgiving mentor and would push you to your limit – he didn’t exactly expect you would do the same thing with yourself as he did to himself in order to improve his fighting to perfection.

A flick of his wrist. A powerful move from your hands. You found yourselves drenched in sweat, in the middle of your training space, the Yamato touching your neck, and your claymore touching the skin on Vergil’s throat.

You had your eyes locked into his silvery gaze, the gleaming blades of your swords ignored as the only thing that dictated that fight was your willpower – yours and Vergil’s. As you looked into each other’s reflections, you stated something you didn’t have to say out loud to be understood: neither of you would ever yield.

As that knowing reached Vergil’s heart, that was only one thing he could really do – something his logical mind and demonic pride could never fathom as the proper response to that situation, but his human heart burned to have him do it. His free hand cupped your face, pulling you into an immediate kiss.

When your lips found his, you used your free hand to anchor yourself in place by holding the back of his neck, pulling Vergil towards you. It was a kiss that burned with the very same fire he saw in your eyes, the one he mirrored in his soul and rarely let out as something other than willpower to keep on surviving. That fire was a will to live, a will to keep going, a will for life… A lust to experience, to burn bright and intensely, to take everything existence had to offer. A lust you could only safely explore with each other, not having to channel that only into surviving, but also into living life as it should be lived.

One of the things Vergil would always tell you, was to never let your guard down. You could be calm and collected, apparently unprepared, but always aware of your surroundings – and ready to kill at every waking moment.

Anything could be a distraction, anything could be a weakness. Being that close to you, in the middle of a fight, with that whirlwind of emotions stirring like a lightning storm that had to have its energy released somehow… Even if you had your sword still in one of your hands as he had Yamato in his, your blades were lowered - you had your grip almost letting go, ready to forget it on the floor.

You had your guard down.

“A demon would have killed you by now.” Vergil’s voice was but a rough whisper as he broke the kiss, his lips barely away from yours, hot breath still ghosting on your skin.

“A demon wouldn’t have kissed me.”

Both of your swords found the floor in unison, as your hands found each other with your lips locking in another breathless kiss.

Fortunately, you were both imperfectly human.