#i'll see if i can rustle them up

[lghtyear]

robin is back , have a starter call . comment one of the following muses to get a starter from them . length will vary , may be inspired by various medias . might come and plot !

current muses available : missy ( doctor who ) , jenny ( doctor who ) , professor yana ( doctor who ) , gwen ( torchwood ) , suki ( atla ) , char ( political animals ) , jess ( until dawn ) , connor ( fandomless ) , oliver ( fandomless ) , irene ( fandomless ) & sammy ( fandomless ) .

[bi-writes]

simon’s reactions to mail order bride finding another cat and bringing it home

mail-order bride

there's a ruckus outside. clattering inside of the rubbish bins, rattling the metal of them. and maybe it could've just been a wild animal, something tearing apart the garbage bags and making a mess, but then there were a few cries, squeaks of terror that were too unnerving to ignore. a cry of distress that wouldn't allow for a good night's rest.

simon throws the back door open. there's a few soldiers milling about, leaning against the outside of the mess hall and barracks as they have a smoke or play some cards. some of them are playing games under the lights, kicking around footballs for a laugh. but he hears it, right around the corner, little eeps and have his neck craning as he turns into the alleyway behind his office.

there's a set of bins there that reek. but he can see the rustle of plastic moving, and when he picks up the top bag and clicks his flashlight on, he's met with fierce hisses of a little orange tabby kitten, with red around her eyes and oil sticking to her fur.

"fuckin' christ," simon mutters, sucking on his teeth. he doesn't know why he's out here. normally, the sounds of it wouldn't even force him to blink twice, but he couldn't help himself, he had to follow it. he looks over his shoulder for a moment, debating, but his mind is already made up.

he thinks of you. his pretty little wife, probably curled up on the couch at home with your candles lit and something warm in the oven. the cat is probably snoozing on one of her shelves, one of her arms hanging over the edge and her little face squished into the cushions he had installed on top of them recently. he thinks of your pretty face and your glowing smile, and he hears your voice in his head as he looks back down into the bin and makes eye contact with the mangy little thing again.

he reaches down and grabs it by the scruff of its neck, lifting it up. her little paws spread, showing her tiny claws, and he sighs, holding it out in front of him as he makes his way back to the barracks.

"what in the living fuck is that, LT?" a bubbly voice laughs. simon continues to hold the kitten out at arms length, his boots heavy as he heads towards the washrooms.

"wot the fuck does it look like, sergeant?" simon snaps. johnny picks up his pace so he can walk beside him, laughing as he smacks simon the back of his vest. simon pushes the door open, dropping the kitten into the sink.

it continues to cry and yip at him. he turns the water on, reaching over for a bottle of dish soap and squeezing it until it splatters against the kitten's back. johnny watches from the doorway as simon tries to scrub the little thing clean, cursing at it all the way as he tries to get all the gunk off of it.

"stop fuckin' squirmin'," simon huffs. "ow! oi! ya lil' shit!"

when simon turns the water off, the kitten is shaking in the sink. simon looks around for something to dry it with, and when he finds nothing, he turns to look at johnny.

"give me your shirt," simon demands. johnny stands up straight.

"what?"

"did i fuckin' stutter? give me y'r bloody shirt, sergeant."

"but! but tha's--"

"an order," simon barks. "give it ta me."

johnny rolls his eyes, gripping his shirt from the back collar and pulling it over his head before tossing it at his lieutenant. simon catches it, picking up the kitten and wrapping it in johnny's shirt before tucking it into the crook of his arm.

"'m goin' 'ome. tell price i'll be back in a few days."

"y'r goin' home? it's late, and we--"

"goodnight, johnny."

you jolt awake when you hear the front door. you rub your eyes, sitting up in bed, but you relax a little when you hear the sound of simon's boots in the living room dropping by the door. you get out of bed, putting your slippers on. when you flick the lamp on, simon is standing in the doorway of the bedroom, in full gear and his skull mask as he looms there, his head nearly hitting the top of the threshold.

"simon?" you croak softly. "i...i thought you weren't gonna be home for a few days."

he's holding something, a ball of bundled-up fabric, and you sniffle as you come closer.

"what is it?" you ask. "is something wrong?"

and then you hear it. the softest little chirp, a squeak coming from his arms. you lean over a little, reaching over and pulling back the fabric, and you let out a little gasp as you see two little yellow eyes blinking up at you, surrounded by tuffs of wet and wild orange fur.

"oh! simon!" you breathe, putting a hand to your chest. "wha...w-what--"

"was in the rubbish," simon mutters, clearing his throat. "i couldn't..."

you look up at him. you can only see his eyes, dark with eye-black smudged save for his blonde lashes, and you soften when you see the way he's looking down. he's frowning, but you know he isn't upset. simon cares, more than he'd like to admit, and you reach up with one delicate hand and touch the skull gently, stroking the cheek of it.

"i know," you say softly, smiling up at him. simon sighs, a little shakily, you notice, and you pass your thumb over where his lips would be before taking the bundle from his arms. you hear what simon doesn't say, understand what he's having difficult accepting, the things that aren't possible for him anymore, the things he has to do to keep himself sane now that there's a voice in his head that always sounds just like yours.

helpless, sweet little kitten, with claws like knives and a temper unlike that of simon's. the thoughts that went through his head, you know them, even if he doesn't tell you. when he saw this little thing, when he saw those big eyes.

i couldn't leave her behind.

no. he couldn't.

[chosok-amo]

warning. fem! reader, daddy kink! toji, fingering, degrading, you give him viagra.

toji fushiguro has never felt this way before in his life. he’s always been a sexually charged man— always had a high libido, but this? this is becoming ridiculous. he’s not sure what the cause of it is, but he’s sitting at his desk at work. his fingers mindlessly type away at the keyboard, hand fiddling with the mouse, but his thoughts are only on one thing.

why on earth is he feeling so hot? fuck, and why is his cock so hard? why are beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead? he glances at the clock feverishly, muttering a curse to himself as he realises he’s only two hours into an eight hour shift. fuck, what does he do? what does he do?

the first thing he can think of is you, grabbing his phone with slightly shaky hands as he opens up your contact and presses on the call button. he glances around, making sure nobody in the office is close enough to hear, and listens to it ring. the moment you pick up, you hardly get a greeting out before he’s hissing into the receiver.

“alright, ya’ fuckin’ brat, what’d ya do?”

your response on the other end is a stifled giggle and a denial of responsibility on your part. he curls his upper lip, knowing immediately that that laugh means you do have something to do with this.

“don’t fuck around with me, girl, i know it’s your doin’. now tell me, what did you do, why is my cock so damn hard right now?”

you let out another small giggle, shaking your head even though he can't see you through the phone. you lean back against your pillows, stretching out comfortably as you reply in a light, teasing tone. “aw, poor baby. having some... trouble down there?” you ask innocently, drawing out the last word for emphasis. you can practically picture the scowl on his face, which only makes you grin wider.

“maybe if you're a good boy and beg nicely, i'll tell youuu..” you trail off suggestively, enjoying the power you seem to have over him in this moment. a thrill runs through you at the thought of reducing such a strong, confident man to pleading for relie— and all from the comfort of your own bed, no less.

he grunts, rolling his eyes at your innocent act. how you think you can fool him, he doesn't know. maybe because you're so fucking young? whatever the reason, it's working. he feels his cock throbbing in agreement with your suggestion, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“beg, huh? alright then, princess,” his voice drops to a low purr, “on your knees for me, sugar. show me just how much you want to help your big bad toji.” he chuckles, shifting in his seat as he waits for your response. he knows you won't disappoint— not when there's fun to be had.

you smirk to yourself, quite pleased with how easily you've gotten under his skin. you sit up straighter, crossing your legs primly as you respond in a sweet, sing-song voice.

“ohhhh toji, you know i'd love to! but...” you draw out the word dramatically, “...i don't think i will. after all, i'm comfy right where i ammm.”

you giggle again, delighting in the frustrated noise he makes on the other end of the line. you can almost feel the heat of his glare through the phone, and it sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“besides, didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to make demands? if you wanna play, you gotta learn some manners first,” you punctuate your words with a wink, even though he can't see it.

his eyes narrow, the annoyance clear in his gaze as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “well isn't that just fucking rich? demanding manners from someone who clearly hasn't learned them yet themselves.”

he lets out a huff, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. but despite himself, he can't help but smile at your antics. “fine then, brat. how ’bout this? how ‘bout i give you a little taste of what you're denying me?”

there's a pause as he takes a moment to adjust himself, the sound of rustling fabric filling the silence between you both. he clears his throat, his voice dropping lower still. “how ‘bout i take matters into my own hands instead?”

you bite your lip, trying to suppress the excited flutter in your stomach at his words. you can practically imagine the sight of those large, capable hands wrapping around his thick length, and it sends a wave of warmth pooling between your thighs.

“that sounds... tempting,” you admit, your voice dropping to match his sultry tone. “but i'm still comfortable here. and besides, i'm not sure how well you handle rejection...”

you let the implication hang in the air, knowing full well how much it would irk him. you can already picture the look of stubborn determination on his face— the same look he gets whenever he sets his mind to something.

he snorts, a hint of amusement lacing his voice despite the growing irritation. “rejection? from you? well, ain't that just a fucking shame. please, kid, you don't know the first thing about turning me down.”

his fingers drum impatiently against his thigh, the tension in his body palpable. “look, i'm giving you a choice here. either you get off that damn bed and come play with me, or i'll just have to find my own release. and trust me, it won't be pretty.”

there's a dangerous edge to his words, a promise of things to come if you continue to deny him. he's not used to being teased like this, and it's starting to grate on his nerves. but goddamn if it's not also turning him on more than he cares to admit.

you shiver at the threat in his voice, a thrill of excitement mixed with a touch of fear. you know exactly what kind of'release' he's referring to—and the thought of it has your core clenching with need.

“ohhh, I'm shaking in my boots,” you tease, trying to keep your voice steady despite the ache building inside you. “but you know what they say, baby... pride comes before a fall.”

you pause, letting the weight of your words sink in. “and honestly? i'm not sure i'd want to be around for the aftermath of your tantrum. seems like it might get messy...” you trail off, leaving the invitation open-ended. you're playing with fire, you know— but the thought of seeing him lose control, of witnessing the raw desire etched across his features, is too enticing to resist.

his patience snaps like a twig underfoot. “fuck it,” he growls, standing abruptly and pacing the room in agitation. “i‘ve had enough of your games, brat.”

he stops in front of the window, gazing out at the cityscape below as he tries to regain his composure. “listen up, kiddo. i’m coming over. and when i do, we’re gonna forget all about these silly little teases and get down to business.”

there's a finality to his tone, an unspoken command that brooks no argument. he's made up his mind, and now it's time for you to comply. “be ready,” he adds, his voice low and warning. “or else.”

your heart pounds in your chest at his declaration, a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling within you. you quickly scramble off the bed, your feet hitting the floor with a soft thud as you rush to prepare yourself.

“or else what?” you challenge lightly, attempting to mask the tremble in your voice. “you gonna spank me like a naughty child? or maybe you'll just have to punish me some other way...” you let your words hang in the air, suggesting all manner of punishments that send a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. you know you're pushing him, testing his limits—but part of you craves the chaos that follows such reckless behavior.

he laughs, but there's no humor in it. “don't tempt me, girl,” he warns, each syllable dripping with barely restrained lust. “because believe me, when i get my hands on you, you won't be sitting down for a week.”

he hangs up without another word, leaving you staring at the phone in disbelief. seconds later, there's a sharp knock at the door, followed by the jangle of keys. he must have kept a spare set, you realize, your heart leaping into your throat as the door swings open and he fills the frame.

he looks pissed. and turned on. and maybe a little bit crazy. “hello, sweetheart,” he drawls, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him with a resounding click. “ready to pay for all that attitude?’

he stalks towards you, a predatory glint in his eye.

your breath catches in your throat as he approaches, the air charged with tension and expectation. you stand frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from the fierce intensity in his eyes.

“i... i don't know,” you reply coyly, tilting your head to the side as you feign innocence. “attitude's kinda my thing. what makes you think i'd want to change?” you take a step back, retreating until your back presses against the wall. the cool surface provides a stark contrast to the heat radiating off your flushed skin.

he closes the distance between you in two long strides, one hand slamming against the wall beside your head as he looms over you. his free hand finds your hip, gripping it possessively as he leans in close.

“oh, i‘ll make you want to change,” he promises darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “i‘ll make you beg for it, princess. i‘ll make you scream so loud the whole damn neighborhood will hear you.”

he punctuates his words with a rough grind of his hips against yours, the hard bulge of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. “sooo, what's it gonna be, sugar? you gonna be a good girl for daddy? or do i need to teach you a lesson?” his hand slides higher, skimming along your ribcage until his thumb brushes the underside of your breast.

a gasp escapes your lips at the contact, your nipples hardening instantly beneath the thin fabric of your top. you squirm against him, feeling the throbbing pulse of his arousal against your belly.

“i... i...“ you stutter, caught between defiance and desire. “daddy? who said anything about daddies.” your protest falls flat, though, lost amidst the haze of arousal clouding your senses. you arch into his touch, seeking more friction against your sensitive flesh.

“teach me then,” you whisper, a daring gleam in your eyes. “show me how a real man handles a naughty girl.”

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, the sound vibrating through you. “with pleasure,” he purrs, his grip tightening on your hip as he pulls you closer. his other hand moves lower, slipping beneath your skirt to find your panties damp with anticipation. “seems like someone's eager for their lesson,” he taunts, circling his fingertips around your swollen clit.

he pinches the sensitive nub firmly, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. but when none comes, he smirks. “good girl,” he murmurs approvingly, his fingers continuing their torturous dance.

“now why don't you show daddy how much you want this?” he coos, leaning in to capture your bottom lip between his teeth. “bend over and spread those legs nice and wide.” a whimper escapes you as his fingers work their magic, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. you're already so wet, so desperate for more of his touch.

“please,” you breathe, the word falling from your lips unbidden. “i need... i need...” you trail off, unable to articulate the overwhelming hunger consuming you. instead, you obey his command, turning and bracing your hands against the wall. you look back at him over your shoulder, your eyes hazy with lust.

“like this, daddy?” you ask feigned innocent, slowly bending at the waist and arching your back. you reach back with one hand to lift your skirt, revealing the soaked patch of fabric clinging to your ass. “is this what you wanted?” you purr, spreading your thighs wider in blatant invitation.

a guttural groan spills from his throat at the sight before him. “fuck yes,” he growls, stalking forward to press himself against your exposed rear.

his large hands cup your ass cheeks, kneading the supple flesh roughly as he grinds his rock-hard erection against your panty-covered cleft. “such a pretty little slut for me,“ he praises, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

without warning, he yanks your panties aside and plunges two thick fingers into your dripping channel. “god, you're so fucking tight,” he grits out, pumping his digits in and out of you at a brutal pace.

he curls them slightly, stroking that spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “come on, baby,” he urges, his voice low and commanding. “ride my fingers like a good girl.”

a high-pitched moan tears from your throat as he penetrates you, your inner muscles spasming around his invading digits. the combination of pain and pleasure sends you spiraling into a frenzy of desire. “yes, yes, please!” you chant, pushing back against his hand shamelessly.

your pussy clenches greedily around his fingers, soaking them in your juices as he fucks you relentlessly. the sounds of your own arousal fill the room—moans, whimpers, the obscene squelch of his fingers moving in and out of your cunt.

“‘m going to cum,” you warn, your voice strained and breathless. “if you keep doing that, i'm going to cum all over your hand.”

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your confession, his thrusts becoming even more insistent. “then let go, sugar,” he encourages, adding a third finger to stretch and fill you further.

he quickens the pace, driving into you with a relentless rhythm designed to push you over the edge. “let me see how much you love being fucked by daddy,” he taunts, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own growing arousal.

the sensation of his teeth on your skin only heightens the pleasure coursing through you, making your orgasm that much more imminent. “that's it, just like that, gooddd, ” he coaches, feeling your walls clench and flutter around his fingers.

a keening cry splits the air as your climax crashes over you, waves of intense pleasure ripping through your body. your pussy convulses around his fingers, milking them for every drop of satisfaction they can provide.

“toji!” you scream his name, the single syllable carrying the weight of your surrender. your entire world narrows down to the feeling of his hand inside you, coaxing every last tremor of bliss from your quivering frame.

gradually, the aftershocks subside, leaving you limp and panting against the wall. “fuck,” you curse weakly, trying to catch your breath. “what did you do to me?”

a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he watches you come undone under his touch. “just warming you up for the main event,” he teases, pulling his slickened fingers free from your spent pussy with a lewd pop.

he brings his glistening digits to his lips, licking them clean with a lascivious grin. “but we're not done yet, brat,” he says, his voice laced with promise. “it's time for daddy to get some attention.”

he steps back momentarily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. his shirt follows suit, revealing the chiseled expanse of his chest and abdomen. he unbuckles his belt with deliberate slowness, letting you take in the full extent of his arousal. “spread those legs wider,” he commands, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants.

a shiver runs through you at the sight of his bare form, his muscles rippling as he moves. there's something undeniably primal about seeing him like this, stripped bare and ready for you. a shaky laugh bubbles from your lips, still tingling from the aftermath of your orgasm. you glance back at him over your shoulder, taking in the sight of his naked lower half.

“like this?” you ask, parting your thighs even further, exposing yourself fully to his hungry gaze. “is this enough for you, daddy?”

you watch as he discards the rest of his clothes, his muscular physique on full display. the throbbing bulge in his groin draws your attention like a magnet, its size promising pleasures untold.

“are you going to fuck me now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side and giving him a coy smile. “because i really hope so,” you added, your voice dripping with feigned nonchalance. “after all, ‘m just a naughty girl looking to satisfy her daddy.”

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, his eyes darkening with raw lust. “naughty girl indeed,” he agrees, prowling forward until he's standing directly behind you.

his hands roam over your hips, gripping your flesh possessively as he positions himself at your entrance. “but daddy has other plans for you,” he whispers, pressing the head of his cock against your drenched folds.

he gives a slow, measured thrust, sinking into you inch by delicious inch. “feel that, sugar?” he asks, pausing to allow you to adjust to his size. "that's just the tip."

a gasp tears from your throat as he finally fills you completely, stretching you in ways you never knew possible. the sensation of being so utterly claimed by him leaves you breathless, your mind spinning with pleasure.

“oh god,” you moan, clutching at the wall for support. “you're so big... always so big,” you trail off, lost in the exquisite agony of having him buried inside you. he doesn't move for several long moments, allowing you to acclimate to his presence. the tension coiling within you is almost unbearable, each beat of your heart echoing the throbbing pulse of his cock pulsating inside your clenching walls.

“move,” you beg, finally finding your voice, “please, fuck me already.”

a smirk tugs at his lips at your plea, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. with a fluid motion, he begins to withdraw, only to slam back into you with bruising force.

each thrust hits deeper than the last, driving you further onto the edge of sanity. “like that?” he asks, punctuating his words with another punishing thrust. “does daddy feel good inside you?”

he sets a ruthless pace, fucking you with a precision that borders on cruel. every stroke sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body, lighting up your nerves like fireworks on the fourth of july.

“you're so tight around me,“ he growls, leaning over your back to whisper in your ear. “so wet, soooo perfect.”

a strangled whimper escapes your lips as he hammers into you, the sheer intensity of his movements threatening to reduce you to a quivering mess. the sound of your bodies colliding echoes throughout the room, a symphony of carnal desires.

“mhm, oh god yes,” you moan, bracing yourself against the wall as he continues to ravage you. “so bigggg, daddy.” you reach back to grab hold of his ass, urging him to pound into you harder, faster. the sensation of his thick length splitting you open is overwhelming, sending jolts of ecstasy shooting through your veins with every brutal thrust.

“i can't...” you pant, struggling to find the words amidst the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. “i can't hold on much longer...“

a surge of possessive pride courses through him at your admission, fueling his desire to claim you entirely. “hold on, sugar,” he grates out, his voice rough with lust. “daddy's not done with you yet.”

he pulls back slightly, only to ram into you with renewed vigor. the angle of his thrusts hits that sweet spot inside you, triggering an avalanche of pleasure that threatens to engulf you whole.

“come for me again,” he demands, biting down on your shoulder to mark you as his once more. “show daddy how much you want it.” he quickens his pace, his hips snapping forward with abandon. the slap of flesh against flesh grows louder, the sound mixing with your cries to create a lewd chorus of carnality.

a keening wail tears from your throat as he strikes that perfect chord within you, sending you spiraling toward obliviation once more. the coil of pleasure inside you tightens, ready to snap at any moment.

“toji!” you scream his name, your voice cracking with need. “i'm gonna—���

your sentence cuts off abruptly as your orgasm washes over you, tearing through you with the force of a tidal wave. your inner walls clamp down hard on his cock, milking him for everything he's worth.

“fuck! fuck!“ you sob, riding out the waves of your climax, “’m cumming, ’m cumming!”

a guttural groan rips from his throat as your velvety walls spasm around him, the rhythmic squeezing pushing him closer to the brink. “that's it, baby,” he praises, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. “milk daddy's cock.”

he continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until it borders on pain. “such a good little slut,” he growls, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. he yanks your head back, forcing you to arch your spine as he pounds into you mercilessly.

with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. a hoarse shout tears from his lips as he finds his own completion, his seed spurting forth to paint your insides white.

the sensation of him filling you up, marking you as his, is indescribable. your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your legs growing weak beneath you.

“oh goddd,” you pant, collapsing against the wall for support. “you're so deep... so full, daddy.”

the warmth of his cum flooding your womb sends another ripple of pleasure coursing through you, extending your high well past its natural end. you can't help but push back against him, desperate for every last drop of his essence.

you lean back against him, feeling his strong arms wrap around your waist. the warmth of his body pressed against yours, coupled with the lingering throbs of pleasure coursing through your veins, is simply heavenly.

a satisfied sigh escapes him as he slowly eases out of you, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. he turns you gently in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest.

“feeling better now, brat?“ he teases, his voice still laced with the remnants of his satisfaction. “or do you need some more of daddy's special attention?” he nuzzles into your neck, planting a series of gentle kisses along your sensitive skin. despite the harshness of their lovemaking, there's a tenderness in his touch that speaks volumes about his affection for you.

“you're amazing when you come undone like that,” he murmurs, his hands roaming over your curves with reverence. “always so responsive.”

a contented hum vibrates in your throat as he holds you close, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. the tender kisses he plants on your neck send pleasant shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the intense passion of mere moments ago.

“i think i might need a little more,” you admit, tilting your head to grant him better access. “just to make sure all that pent-up energy is drained away properly.”

you thread your fingers through his hair, guiding his lips to the crook of your neck where you know he loves to suck and bite. “and maybe some cuddles afterwards,” you add, a playful glint in your eye. you press yourself even closer to him, savoring the solid warmth of his body against yours. your fingers finding his nipple, pinch the hardened bud in between.

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest at your request, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “cuddles, huh? you're really milking this ‘needy’ thing for all it's worth, aren't you?”

he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasp as his tongue delves into your mouth. the nip of his teeth on your bottom lip has you whimpering into the embrace, your fingers tangling deeper in his hair.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, pausing to suck a dark bruise into your skin before moving lower. “as for that pent-up energy,” he murmurs, his hot breath washing over your collarbone, “daddy's got just the thing.”

he drops to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushes them apart. “spread those pretty legs again for me, sugar.”

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

[bywons]

✶ A LITTLE HELP — SJY

╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

( ✶🪽𝓢. ) 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 ? 1217 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 contains ! 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 (?), 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 ✦ ◞ 𝒞 ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

“i mean your abs are pretty impressive, pretty convenient for a washing board though.”

an offended, loud gasp from just beside you, makes you giggle. the cardboard boxes rustle against each other, a few of them being opened up to take out your newly ordered white vases, which your helpful neighbour skillfully places among the wooden shelves.

meanwhile, you wipe off the dust and rearrange the little trinkets on the white showcase, occasionally admiring your handsome neighbours’ work.

“when did you see my abs though, are you lying to me, ms y/n?”, jake scoffs, putting the last vase on the shelf.

you giggle, finishing off your work on the showcase, “i think you're forgetting that our apartment complex has a gym, mr jake,” you walk towards him, an unexpected rise in your heartbeat, “last week.”

“was i on the bench press?”, jake smirks, before catching his lower lip between his teeth and flicking it outside. you don't know what he's trying to do with all that, but he is sure to make your heart beat faster.

“treadmill”, you correct him.

the proximity between you and your striking neighbour increases by the windowsill, where both mild sun rays and inquisitive pairs of eyes can peek in, but it's something that doesn't bother you. after all, sim jake is only here to help you, just a helping hand for you when you've decided to clean and rearrange your apartment.

you don't know how the helping part is kept aside for now, confused at how jake is staring into your eyes, a hesitant but longing step closer to you. he should've been helping you with the bookshelf now, stacking in the new books to the according racks.

but right now he is busy igniting new feelings to your heart.

jake is too close for your own good, left hand threatening to close in around your waist and pull you into such a proximity he has only imagined. he could smear that pink lip gloss of yours now, his hand on you and his mind all dizzy, it would be a perfect weekend for him.

and as he's about to accomplish that, when you swiftly glide out of his imaginary hold on you and pick up the new books to be kept in place, breaking your poor neighbours’ heart.

“that's too much work for a pretty girl like you,” jake was fast, you have to give it to him, well not only in pace but also incredibly fast to make you squeal inside, “i'll take them from ‘ya.”

“you know i can do that myself”, you scoff, leaning against the bookshelf as he snatches the basket full of new books, arranging them.

“yes ma'am”, jake sings, pulling out another giggle from you while he pushes the new books between the old ones, “but i'd rather do it myself you know? wouldn't want your arms all tired.”

you had enough time, strength and leisure to stroll around your apartment and bedeck it, a change of scenario and colours for your eyes, a break from the dust collecting shelves eyeing you from their constant spot. you definitely didn't need another flirty neighbours’ help who could easily pull you into a scandal.

five months ago when you first moved in here, you didn't expect a cheeky, lovestruck neighbour, jake, to knock on your doors every weekend. and even if you're not willing to talk, his flirting skills would find his way to your smile anyway.

so jake became a regular face to witness, a regular voice to hear and a regular touch that you wished would linger for one more second.

“nosy neighbours”, jake reads out the title of the last book on his hand, “ouch, am i a nosy neighbour?”, a dramatic hand over his heart and a fake pout made you giggle harder.

“shut up jake”, you roll your eyes, hitting his arm.

“actually i'd like to borrow this book from ya”,

“you read books too?”, you tilt your head in confusion, an eyebrow raised at his request.

“are you surprised?”, jake giggles, taking a step closer to you as he secures the book in his hand.

“of course i am”, you let out a hearty laugh, hands flying up to your face to cover your flushed cheeks, “i thought all you do is flirt with women and lure them into your apartment”, you tease.

“that's not very nice, ms y/n,” and he goes back to his unnecessary honorific and a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips, making you swoon, “i’m hurt to know you think of me like that.”

jake leans in until he's face to face with you, his hot breath tickles your cheeks and makes them bloom from inside. he's at it again, his infamous grin while he stares you down, his rosy lips are too close to yours.

“the only woman i want to take home is you”, he whispers, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ears. his eyes wander about to face, to your eyes to lips to neck to your eyes again, “do they kiss in the book?”

“no spoilers”, you whisper back.

“fair enough”, jake scoffs, his lips hovering over the corner of yours as he pulls you in by your waist, until you have to create a barricade between you two by softly pressing your palms against his chest. but jake doesn't really gives you what you want, he teases you, grazing his lips over the corners of yours and pressing a light peck on your cheek before pulling back.

he leaves you blushing and stunned, which he likes and smiles at.

“o-ok now i have a lot of work,” you hurriedly grab jake’s hand and begin to drag him towards the door.

“aww are you shooing me away, y/n?”, jake whines, walking the few steps to the exit on his own, “i was just having fun!”

“i wasn't”, you bite your lips, suppressing in a chuckle as you look at him, standing on your threshold.

“oh? is that so?”, jake's eyes widens, he's loving this little act of yours.

as if you didn't turn butter under his touch just a few seconds ago.

“yeah! now off you go jake, i have a lot of things to do”, you try to send him off, lightly pushing on his chest and he's quick to grab your hand.

he brings it near his lips and kisses the inside of your wrist, looking up at you he says, “why don't you come over someday? return my favour maybe?”

all the blood in your body rushes up to your ears and cheeks and you stand still before him, not knowing what to do when you slowly retract your hand. he's intoxicating and he knows it, even if you don't visit him, jake already has an excuse to return his borrowed book to see your pretty face again. maybe you should give it a thought, give him a chance? after all, you can't deny the fact that he does make your heart beat faster.

you clear your throat, “i'll think about it.”

jake chuckles, “you better, ‘want to lure in my favourite pretty girl”, he winks at you, a final blow before he quickly pecks your cheek again, “9:30, i'll be waiting, gorgeous.”

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[uzurakis]

hiii! I’m here to request a scenario (headcanon? Drabble? it doesn’t rlly matter; do whatever fits best, just as long as Yuta and Megumi is in it :3, you can add another character if you want or something!!) when the reader is being admired/stalked by another person? Like jjk men hear a snap sound and whip their head to see someone taking a picture of reader, or jjk men noticing the same person commenting + viewing reader’s social medias all the time, etc etc! It doesn’t rlly matter how you want it to play out; do what you like :3

STALKER IN SIGHT?!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji.

n. thanku for the request and the creative liberty on this one nonnie <3 have fun seeing them all protective with their own ways for you !

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi and you sat together in a quaint little café, savoring the warmth of your drinks and the comfort of each other's company, a faint click disrupted the moment. lost in conversation, you barely registered the sound, but megumi's keen senses picked it up immediately.

"what’s wrong?" you asked, puzzled by the slight shift in his demeanor. “i think someone just took a photo of us," he replied, tone tinged with concern.

you glanced around, but saw no one with a camera. "really? i didn't notice anyone."

he nodded, his gaze focused on a young man a few tables away, phone in hand, a smug grin on his face. without hesitation, megumi rose from his seat, his movements purposeful yet controlled.

with a protective instinct, he strode over to the guy, calmly but firmly retrieving their phone. "i'm sorry, but i'll have to delete that photo," he said, his voice carrying a subtle warning. as for the person, they were taken aback by his assertiveness, complied without hesitation.

“thank you," your boyfriend said, his tone polite yet tinged with a subtle warning. "we do appreciate your cooperation."

with that, he returned to your table, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "sorry about that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee. "i just wanted to make sure our moment wasn't interrupted."

GOJO SATORU

"babe, do you feel like we're being followed?" unsure, you sounded apprehensive.

he chuckled lightly, his gaze scanning the surroundings with practiced ease. "don't worry, darling. i've got my eyes on everything. if there's anyone following us, they'll regret it."

relieved by his assurance, you relaxed, allowing yourself to get lost in the beauty of the moment. but as the evening wore on, the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing minute. and then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of movement, a shadow flitting among the trees.

your boyfriend noticed first. his face clouded, and a flash of rage lit in his body. "stay close to me," he said, voice low and menacing.

"alright, enough is enough," he declared, cutting through the silence like a blade. "whoever you are, show yourself.”

“you don’t wanna get on my bad side, really.”

from the shadows emerged a figure, their features obscured by the fading light. "i-i... i just wanted to... to…"

your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and his tolerance wore thin. with a quick burst of speed, he closed the distance between them in an instant, his palm clutching the stalker's collar like a vice. "you just wanted to do what?" stalk us? follow us around like a creep?” gojo’s aura exuded an undeniable terror that sent shocks down the stalker's body.

the stalker trembled beneath his grasp, their breath coming in shallow gasps. "i... i'm sorry, i didn't mean any harm. i just... i just wanted to be close to her."

gojo's grip tightened, eyes flashing with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the darkness. “if i ever catch you following us again," he threatened, "you'll wish you'd never laid eyes on us. understood?"

ITADORI YUUJI

together, you and itadori were enjoying a serene moment in the park, laughing and chatting as a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. the silence was abruptly broken, though, by the sound of surrounding camera shutters clicking.

itadori's smile faltered as he noticed a group of guys discreetly taking photos of you both. his expression turned from confusion to annoyance, his brows furrowing in irritation.

"not cool, dude," he called out, his sound firm but not overly aggressive.

the guys turned to look at him, their faces displaying a mixture of surprise and defiance. one of them chuckled nervously, attempting to brush off itadori's remark. "hey man, just capturing the moment, you know?"

your boyfriend, however, would not have it. his movements gave off a subdued threat as he walked towards the group. "i understand, but you’re making me and my girlfriend uncomfortable. so stop it.”

taking advantage of the crowd, one of the guys moved forward with aggression, their fists balled up with rage. "who do you think you are, telling us what to do?" itadori's muscles tensed, his gaze hardening in anticipation. however, he refrained, showing strength in his control, before things might get out of hand.

the guy, taken aback by itadori's composure, hesitated for a moment before backing down, his bravado replaced by a palpable sense of fear. "o-okay, man, we'll stop," he muttered, trembling slightly.

with a final warning glance, itadori returned to your side, a huge grin painting his lips. "as i was saying," he continued, as if the whole tragedy didn’t happen a few seconds ago. “we have to watch jennifer lawrence’s new movie together, babe, okay?”

YUUTA OKKOTSU

you were laughing and chatting as you looked through the shelves of a pleasant shop with yuuta, exploring the various products on exhibit. your boyfriend trailed along behind you, half-heartedly staring at a customer's phone nearby as you moved to make a purchase.

his expression shifted subtly as he noticed the username, the same one that had been relentlessly stalking you for months, liking and commenting on your social media posts. his jaw clenched with a mixture of concern and irritation, but he maintained his composure.

leaning casually against the counter, yuuta shot a seemingly innocuous question towards the customer, his tone deceptively casual. "the girl's pretty, huh?"

the customer, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry, hesitated for a moment before reluctantly answering, "y-yeah, she is."

with a small, knowing smile, yuuta straightened up, his gaze piercing as he delivered his response. "well, sucks for you, that's my girlfriend."

the customer's eyes widened in realization, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "i-i didn't mean any harm, i swear," he stammered.

yuuta's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "i don't care what your intentions were. you've been making her uncomfortable for months, and that ends now. stop stalking her, or you'll have me to deal with."

the customer nodded hastily, his hands trembling as he pocketed his phone and made a hasty exit, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in his wake.

turning back to you with a soft smile, yuuta wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "what happened?" you asked with a chuckle, he was suddenly clinging onto you.

"nah, just grateful i have the prettiest girlfriend alive."

@uzurakis — rqs are open <3

[senseichaos]

IMAGINE...

FULL LENGTH IMAGINE!!

Alastor is low-key a psychopathic sadist in this so you've been warned

un-edited

Alastor predator / prey play.

In episode 3 you can see his room which half of is a forest-swamp-like interior. But what if it was a forest?

"Alright dear.. I'm going to ask you to run into this forest," he begins, teeth so largely grinning you can see his gums poking in it. His eyes glow darkly and he leans in slightly closer "And I'll chase after you, and when I catch you.."

His scleras turn a black and his horns begin to grow. You shiver, shirnking away from him as he speaks. His words come out distorted, a thin crackling accompanying them:

"I'll delight in your body, no matter if you scream and cry.. I'll tear every piece of innocence from your pliant figure many times until you admit that I own every piece of you.." he trails a single claw down my chin, causing you to gulp. His eyes send you into a sort of trance, their deep red shine making your knees weak.

"Sound good, my fawn?" He asks, eyes softening as he brushes his hands through your locks.

You nod. You shouldn't have. But you did.

And then he lets go of you, smiling manically as you shiver under his gaze. Alastor licks his lips, black tongue poking from his lips. You cry beneath your breath, already feeling a sort of terror go though your body even though he hasn't commanded you yet.

And then he does

"Run" he growls, and you're off.

You run despite your shaky legs and aching feet. You jump over logs and rake yourself through bushes. You don't once look behind you, and Alastor doesn't seem close by, anyway. So you take a sharp turn, almost tripping in the process as you run in that direction; I hope that this decision means that he'll be far behind. Perhaps you could even find a place to hide.

A sudden rustling comes from a bush to your left, and this stupidity causes you to look towards it as you run; with this uncaring look comes a consequence: you trip over a root on the swampy forest floor, making your body shoot forward and fall into the grass. You cough rather loudly, shaking your face as you attempt to get up.

Ouch.

Fuck. Your ankle is twisted to shit. How are you supposed to run? You look around wearily, dragging yourself across the ground by your arms to try to find any sort of hiding place in this barren wasteland of trees and small bushes.

Then your ears catch a noise.

It's stomping. You hear stomping.

"Little fawn? Come out for daddy.." Alastor says, walking nearby.

You feel a terror shoot from my body, and you shuffle away as fast as you can. To get behind anything. You see his silhouette to your left, so with a determination you crawl (or rather shimmy) behind the nearby bush.

Fuck, the bush rustles as your body passes by it, and Alastor is now looking in your direction completely. From his silhouette you can see that he isn't in his regular form. No. He has those large deer horns poking from his head, and his upper body is larger as is the rest of his body.

And there's that glow. That glow of his red irises and Yellow smile as he looks. As he looks in your direction. As he looks in your eyes.

You are suddenly appreciative that Alastor isn't in his full demon form. Or he may rip you shreds by his claws. He doesn't stalk towards you yet. He just smiles wider, not breaking his eye contact whatsoever as he just stands.

But before you could even pry yourself from his gaze, he's running.

You scream, trying to stand but your ankle buckles beneath you; this makes you fall on your chest as you glance wearily backwards. Just as you glance backwards, he's on top of you.

You scream rips through the air again, feeling searing pain go through you as he rips your clothes up to shreds. He doesn't care for the fact his claws leave scratches and marks against your back, all he cares for is ruining that innocence you harbour. When you whimper he aggressively pushes you down so your face hits the ground and your arms lay splayed next to you, laughing to himself as he tears your panties off of your mound harshly. He flips you over again, wanting to see your dirty face after it's been shoved into the ground.

"Little fawn.. how drenched you are~" Alastor purrs, dragging a clawed finger through your wetness. The sharpness of it just barely stimulates your clit, causing you to moan as you attempt to close your legs. Alastor doesn't like that. As soon as he sees you attempt this he forces his hands around your thighs, pushing them open until you cry out in pain from the force.

"Don't test me, little fawn.." He growls, his gums showing from his manic smile. It makes you aroused in a way you can't describe. For a moment he looks at your ankle, which is bruised from the fall you took. What you didn't expect is for him to grin at this, before shifting his eyes back to your own teary ones.

"you seemed to have twisted your ankle my dear!" He leans down his nose barely brushing against your own as his claws dig into your plush thighs. "That means you can't run away.. how convenient for me," Alastor growls, finally moving one of his hands from your thigh so he can wrap his hands around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head backwards. This gives him the opportunity to bite into the area where your neck meets your shoulder.

First he just licked the area with his black tongue, causing you to shiver at the way his gaunt body leans over you. Then he barely nibbles the area, making you squirm in a way that Alastor doesn't like. He digs his claws further into your thigh as a punishment.

And then without warning, he bites down, his teeth sinking completely into your shoulder. You scream out, tears falling down your cheeks as you shake from the sheer pain of it all. When he starts to withdraw his teeth you scream again, sobbing loudly as the pain shoots through your entire body.

When he fully withdraws, he just smiles, admiring his work. Blood pours from the wound quickly, and you could feel yourself losing a lot of blood.

Thankfully, Alastor loves you enough to not kill you. So he withdraws his hands from your neck and clicks his fingers, the blood moving back into your body before a bandage appears on it.

"Can't have my fawn bleed out, can i? What would Charlie say!?" He laughs, his black sclera darkening as he wipes away your tears. You whimper like a dog, lower lip wobbling as you open your eyes. You and Alastor just stare into each other's eyes for a moment, taking in each other and each other's flaws. He is smiling, you are crying.

What you fail to notice in this moment is Alastor unbuckling his pants, pulling his cock from the confines of his boxers and pants so his tip barely kisses against your entrance. When you notice this you whimper, trying to draw yourself away from him. Though Alastor just pulls you back by your twisted ankle, causing you to gasp in pain from the way he does it.

"Little fawn, there is no use in running away from me," he tilts his head, licking his lips as he presses the tip of his cock flush at your entrance. "You've been caught already, my dear!" He laughs, and without warning plunging his cock into your entrance.

You scream his name, moving your hands to cover your mouth. Alastor laughs, his black tentacles appearing from the ground to pry your hands from your mouth, holding them down. "It's much more fun when I can hear you scream for me, isn't it dear?" He laughs, drawing his hips back before thrusting harshly into your core again. You moan, teary eyes rolling backwards with a sort of agonizing pleasure.

"How tight you are, Little fawn," He says, pushing your thighs into your chest so he has better access to your holes. Each thrust he gives you makes you moan loudly, though Alastor doesn't even so much as grunt. He just grins as he watches your innocence leave you with a prideful gaze.

"S'too much! Fuck!" You yell, feeling his tip brush against your cervix painfully. Though Alastor only laughs, closing his eyes and laughing as he speeds up his thrusts. The tentacles around your arms tighten as you attempt to move them, Alastor's brows furrowing with his laughter.

You couldn't even understand his motive anymore. Is he enjoying having you beneath him? To the point where he humors it?

"Oh, how funny you are my little fawn," He says, moving one of his left hand from your thigh to wipe away a tear of laughter. As he puts his hand back on your thigh he tilts his head, speaking: "But I already said I don't care if you want to stop,"

"You already agreed to this, didn't you?" He says, and you scream with a painful pleasure.

"You wanted this."

His thrusts become manic in pace and you can't help but give up on moving. He's in complete control of you now. He's in control of your feelings, he's in control of your thoughts, he's in control of your body, he's in control of your pleasure. He owns you now. And there's nothing you can do but take it.

You'd take anything he'd give you.

With a whimper and a sob you cum on his cock, walls clamping around his length as he bites his lip. He watches your face the entire time, a snarky and prideful look on his features as you come loose around him.

Once you finish, here comes that horrible overstimulation that makes you gasp for air. How has he not came yet? You had no answer.

"My little fawn, too bad I cannot breed you. I guess this will just have to do.." he says, serving you one last harsh thrust as he empties his load inside of you. And he cums a lot, like- a lot a lot. You can feel your stomach bulging every so slightly with his cum as he leans down, kissing your cheek.

"Oh thank God," you sigh, happy that the sex is finally over.

"God!? Ha!" He laughs pulling out of you.

You begin to sit up, but Alastor's tentacles hold you down. He tuts, grinning as he presses his cock head against your anus.

"Who said we were done, Little Fawn?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[a-leg-without-fear]

Threesome🔥

going a bit off script on day 2 because i'm a HEATHEN anyway enjoy

Ship: Worst!Logan Howlett x f!Reader x Wade Wilson

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 776

Warnings: cursing, smut, threesome, Wade Wilson is his own warning, unprotected PiV, anal (f!receiving), use of petnames, kissing, cocaine mention

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Your mind was fucking shattered.

Deep, guttural grunts rumbled from Logan beneath you with every deliberate thrust. Sharp canines scraped along your overheated skin. Whispers of "you're doing so good, baby" filtered from between his clenched teeth. His sweat-drenched skin was nearly sticking to yours due to your proximity. Barely a centimeter of space was left between the two of you.

It didn't help that Wade was on top of you, thrusting into you from behind, bearing his full weight on you as his hands fisted in the sheets. His wet tongue traced down your spine. Shivers erupted across your back in brutal waves.

"That's a good girl. Taking us so well. Isn't she, Wolvie?" Wade mused, voice muffled from where his lips connected with your skin. You gasped as a quick hitch in Wade's thrust nearly jostled Logan out of you.

"Watch it, red," Logan growled quietly. His large palms clung to your hips in near desperation. Gripping at your skin so tight you knew there'd be bruises in the morning. Not that you minded.

A light laugh rumbled against your back, "Feeling possessive, are we, Lo? Afraid I'll take our sunflower away from you?"

"Just shut up and fuck her, will you?" Logan said over your shoulder. He pressed a quick "sorry" behind your ear with a gentle kiss. You couldn't help the quiet moan that leaked from your throat.

"Let's make a game of it, shall we?" was all the warning Wade gave before he suddenly pulled out. You whined at how empty you now felt, craving both of them inside you every waking moment of your life. Wade ran a gentle hand down your back, "Shh, it's alright, angel cakes. I just wanna see if Lo-Lo's up to the task."

"The fuck is wrong with you, Wade?" Logan asked, propping himself up on his elbows to throw the merc a heavy glare. Now no one was focused on fucking you. You muttered obscenities under your breath as you buried your nose in Logan's shoulder. These two couldn't stop bickering for five minutes, let alone a whole night with just the three of you.

"I just wanted to challenge you, Mr.Not-a-Duke. Which of us do you think can make our sunbeam here come the fastest?" Wade offered with a cocky grin you could hear.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head, "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Yeah, and it'd be me," Wade returned.

"You must've taken some brain damage, because you know it'd be me," Logan bit back.

You groaned against Logan's neck, then nipped at the thin skin under his jaw, "Will someone please just fuck me?"

A shudder rolled over Logan's shoulders. He peered down at you through narrowed eyes. You could practically feel the seconds tick by as he remained still, just staring at you. Unease settled around your ribs. Logan was an impossible man to read, even at the best of times. When his pupils were blown, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and his cock was inside you, it was even more difficult to gauge what he was thinking.

"Start a timer," he instructed Wade, gaze never leaving you. Arousal reignited in your abdomen like a stoked bonfire.

"Yes sir," Wade said with a wide smile. You heard rustling behind you as Wade grabbed one of the three phones on the nightstand.

The world spun without warning as you were flipped on your back. A gust of air shot from your lungs at the impact with the bed. Soft lips brushed along the skin under the hinge of your jaw.

"Go easy on me, huh? Wanna prove Wade wrong," Logan whispered in your ear. Flames licked at your skin, goosebumps rising in the wake of the Wolverine's gentle touch. Callused fingers grazed over you as light as feathers.

"I haven't started the timer yet, cheater! Any more unsportsmanlike behavior and I'll lock you out," Wade groused loudly. Logan breathed a chuckle along your collarbone.

"I'll just break the door down," he said as he threw you a wink. It took every bone in your body to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head.

"Break another door and Blind Al'll hide the cocaine again. When she hides shit, that stuff stays gone," Wade mumbled indignantly. Logan ignored the merc, fingers trailing ever-so slowly down your sensitive skin. A choked moan kicked out of your chest when Logan's thigh brushed against your swollen clit. Wade's wrinkled hand entered your periphery as he tapped on Logan's cheek, "Did you hear me, resident senior citizen? No cheating!"

It was going to be a long, long night.

may need to continue this in a future fic...

taglist: @ripleyswife @just-a-nightdreamer @venomqueen2002 @c1eepypas1a @www-interludeshadow-com

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[st4rfckerz]

Farmboy | Farmhand!Anakin Skywalker x Farmers!daughter

word count: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI 18+, oral (male receiving), face fucking (if you squint), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slow(ish) buildup, not proofread

summary: Anakin is your family's farmhand and after inviting him to dinner, you can't keep your hands to yourself

Your family owned a farm out West, not far from the outskirts of town. It was quiet, as farms often are. The land was hilly, rolling out as far as you could see. The sun was shining, and the blue sky was bright with few clouds in it. The sound of horses and the wind rustling through the trees was all you heard. The air was crisp, and there was a slight tang of wildflowers.

Anakin was one of the farmhands that your family had hired a few months ago, a man who was quiet but skilled. As one of their hired hands, he was responsible for helping with the maintenance of the farm's livestock and machinery. His primary role was to ensure everything ran smoothly, which meant keeping the animals fed and watered while fixing broken machinery when needed.

It was midday when you approached him in the garden shed with a worried expression on your face. "Ani, I need your help. The sheep pen collapsed, and I can't find any tools nearby." Panic was evident in your voice, hinting at the potential consequences of leaving the sheep unattended for too long. Anakin followed you back to the dimly lit barn and you found the sheep wandering around their stalls, bleeting softly.

"I see," he muttered looking at the pen, he glanced over where the sheep were grazing. "I hope nothing else broke." he says under his breath, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of damage. He walked forward, whistling for the sheep that were scattered, and they came to him. He began leading them towards their pen, some were very fussy about it and didn’t want to go, yet he remained calm and gentle.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," Anakin assured you, stepping over the fence and rummaging through the debris left by the fallen wood.

"You need me to help with anything?" you stand near him awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“Nope. I got it under control,” He said calmly, continuing to lead the sheep. You admired his patience and his ability to stay so level headed. "You can just sit there and look pretty while I get this done." Anakin shoots you a slick smile that makes your insides turn a little.

"I won't be bothering you?" you ask as you sit down on a bale of hay.

"You won't be bothering me at all sweetheart," He says, his eyes traveled over your body and he smirked at you. "You can be my moral support." He leans against the aged wall of the barn. His stance was relaxed, very casual as he was being nonchalant, but with you he was a little different. Something about you made him like this.

Anakin couldn't help but notice how good you looked in their simple dress, its hemline brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough skin to drive him wild. The sunset cast a warm, golden light over your body, creating a delicate glowy outline around your figure. It was almost like the sun was wrapping itself around you.

"You know you could stay for supper if you'd like," you suggest, breaking the silence of the barn. "I'm sure my folks won't mind." He watched as you leaned back on the bale of hay, and he couldn't help but notice your dress riding up a little. It was a small thing to notice, but he saw it.

Your dress wasn't that short, by any means, but the way it rode up on your legs was enough to make Anakin notice you. His gaze drifted down to your legs, and back up to your face.

"Oh I don't know, I don't wanna intrude or anything-" You smiled and cut him off, stopping him in his tracks.

"Please Ani? Just this once?" You walked over to him, and with that sweet tone in your voice, you were playing him like a fiddle. It was clear that your invitation was genuine, you wanted him to stay so you could keep his company. He smiled at you and looked away from your eyes for a moment. When he looked back at you, he was slightly speechless. The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn't speak, he wasn't used to someone that could make him flustered.

"Well, alright I s'pose I could join you." Anakin smiles. "What's mama bear fixin' up tonight?"

he smirked at you, his expression was playful, but you could tell he was serious. You laughed lightly at the silly nickname he often uses for you mother.

“She’s making beef stew, with biscuits. All from scratch, too.” you explain. "And there's fresh apple pie for dessert." His smile showed he was interested, and he couldn't help but admire your beauty. You looked like a little doll, with sweet doe eyes that could disarm any man.

"Then I'll be there." His voice had a masculine yet flirty quality to it, and it sent shivers down your spine. It was like music to your ears.

"Good, I'll see you later farmboy." You tease, knocking his hip with your own as you walked past him. You felt his eyes devouring you whole, looking at your sweet face and the sway of your hips.

As he continues to fix the pen, he can't help but think about the upcoming dinner. He's never had dinner with you and your family before, so he wondered how it would go. He didn't know if he'd be welcome, but you said they wouldn't mind, and you're pretty much like a little princess in their eyes so it shouldn't go wrong at all.

The evening rolled around, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, ready for the dinner to begin. Your family was already seated around the table, discussing various things. They all seemed pretty jovial, and you could hear the occasional laughter, as well as bits of conversation.

You looked around and expected to see Anakin walking through the door at any second, yet he was a bit late which was out of character for him.

Just as you thought he might've bailed last minute, Anakin's voice draws your attention towards the door, where he was finally walking in. His expression had a hint of embarrassment, since he was later than he thought he'd be. He had a shy yet sheepish look on his face, as if he expected you or your family to reprimand him.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking at you, "I'm a bit late."

"Ani! I was afraid you flaked out on us." you joke as you abruptly got up from your seat to greet him. When Anakin saw you get up and come closer to him, he was initially confused as to why. But then you envelope him in a tight hug, catching him completely off guard. He didn't know how to respond, as he was taken aback by your show of affection.

"No, I'd never do a thing like that." he responds.

He hugged you back, his hands squeezing you tightly as you felt his body pressing against yours. He was caught by surprise, and he didn't expect you to show any affection. His body stiffened up as you hugged him, as he remained still.

However, he felt a wave of warmth rush through him and it caused him to relax into the hug. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling a new feeling of closeness between you both.

"Come eat, there's plenty of food." You let go of the embrace, but you still keep your hands on him, dragging him to the seat right next to you. He didn't hesitate to follow you, nor did he show any opposition. You both sit down, with you being right next to Anakin. You pull yourself slightly close to him, close enough that he could feel it.

Anakin's eyes look up at your father, his expression showing a bit of anxiety. Your father smiles warmly at him, and welcomes him to the table. Anakin smiles back in response, looking down at the table a bit. Your father proceeds to sit down, as does the rest of your family. The dinner proceeds like normal, everyone engaging in conversation with one another.

"So Anakin, how's everything been?" your father asks, his aged, gravelly voice booming throughout the room.

"I've been quite fine sir, same old news." Anakin says, smiling a bit as he takes a bite from his biscuit.

"Anakin fixed the sheep pen today." The conversation shifts as you interject, causing Anakin's attention to look up. Your words get everyone's attention, as they all look at Anakin, who is sitting to the side.

"Oh, did he?" your father says, looking at him. Anakin's ears pick up, and he looks over towards you. Your father continues, "I'm sure the sheep are happy." He blushes slightly, nodding his head humbly as he looks at your dad.

Your mother pipes up with her own question, pointing the discussion in another direction.

"So Anakin, what do you do in your free time?"

Anakin answers, keeping his tone relaxed and level.

"Nothin' too special really," he says, taking a few moments to respond, "Just hang around, or fix things. Y'know how it is." He's cordial, polite, and has a soft attitude.

He treats you with respect, yet his attention keeps flicking back towards you again and again, as if he was drawn to your charms. You felt as if you were a magnet to him, as he always looked over at you after he said anything.

As you lean forward to grab the salt, your fingers brush against Anakin's thigh under the table, a subtle gesture that sends a thrill through both of you. He raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He knows exactly what you're doing. You quickly return to your seat, trying to hide your flushed cheeks under the low light.

"The food is really good mom." you smile sweetly at her. While you speak, your fingers graze along Anakin's growing bulge under the table, a subtle hint of your growing attraction.

Anakin's eyes meet yours for a brief moment, he swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure as he continues the conversation. The tension between you two is palpable, yet unnoticed by the rest of the family.

Dinner comes to an end, and your mother presents a homemade apple pie for dessert. The family cheers in appreciation, and you can't help but smile at the delicious aroma wafting through the room. The scent of apple pie creates a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Anakin compliments your mother on the meal, his eyes never straying far from yours.

As everyone digs into the apple pie, you feel Anakin's hand gently slide in between your thighs under the table. You try your hardest to suppress the smile creeping onto your face, the connection between you two growing stronger with each passing moment. The dessert is sweet, but it's nothing compared to the warmth you feel inside.

When you finish eating your piece of pie, you stand up and gather your plate and utensils, turning to head towards the kitchen sink. Anakin follows closely behind. You work side by side, the clinking of dishes echoing through the kitchen.

Anakin's hands are large and rough from farm work, but they move gracefully as he washes the dishes. He looks at you, his expression calm but also full of appreciation.

"It was nice having dinner with your family." he tells you, "thanks for inviting me over."

You give him a smile and use a nearby towel to wipe your hands. "It was no problem, they enjoyed your company." He smiles back, his jaw firm but his eyes showing that he was genuinely pleased.

Just as your family enters the kitchen with their now empty plates,  you lean in close to Anakin, your voice barely above a whisper. "Meet me in the barn in five minutes." you say, your eyes filled with anticipation. Anakin's gaze locks onto yours for a moment before he nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your father approaches, engaging Anakin in conversation about the farm and the upcoming town festival. You turn to your mother, your cheeks flushed but your voice steady. "I'll be right back, I just need to check on the chicken coop."

Your mother doesn't seem to suspect anything unusual since this was usually the time you'd check on the chickens anyway. "Take your time, dear. We'll be in here for a bit longer." She waves you off, her smile warm and understanding.

You wait for everyone to settle down before slipping out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind you. The moonlit night casts a pearlescent glow over the yard, illuminating the path leading to the barn. You hurry inside, your heart racing with exhilaration.

Anakin watches you leave, his eyes never leaving yours as you exit the house. He knows what's coming next, and he can't help but feel a whirlwind of trepidation. The anticipation killing him, but he forces himself to continue the conversation with your father, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

Finally, your father finishes his glass of sweet tea and stands up, nodding goodbye to Anakin after he explains that he should be heading home.

The sound of crickets and distant frogs filled the air as Anakin walks towards the barn, his boots rustling against the grass beneath him. He approaches the old barn slowly, his heart racing faster than a stallion at the starting gate. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the night. He called out your name softly, his voice tinged with anticipation. The barn is dimly lit, with the moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

As he stepped inside, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. You were there, your eyes locked onto his.

"Hi." you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief. The barn feels smaller now, the air thick with tension. Your eyes lock onto each other, and the crickets chirping outside seem to grow louder. Anakin takes a step towards you, his confidence wavering only slightly.

"Hey," his tone is softer than normally, you could tell just from his voice he was nervous. His eyes are locked on you, scanning every inch of your body. "Your folks know you're in here?" he asks.

You shake your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile. "I told them I'm checking on the chickens." His eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement playing on his face.

Anakin clicks his tongue while shaking his head teasingly. "You shouldn't be lyin' to your parents sweetheart." He looks at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, as if you made him feel special with a simple remark.

"Technically, I glanced over there when i was walking over here." you state matter-of-factly. Anakin steps closer to you, his fingers brushing the little strands of hair out of your face. His eyes never leaving yours. His touch is gentle, yet electric, making your heart race even faster. You step closer to him and you can't help but feel the pull between you two. The barn feels comforting and inviting, a secret haven away from the world.

"You look real pretty tonight." Anakin compliments sincerely, his hand still resting on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You nuzzle your cheek against Anakin's big palm. "Thanks," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the silence of the barn.

Anakin's thumb traces a line along your lower lip, teasingly brushing against the corner of your mouth. His hand moves to your waist, his fingertips grazing the hem of your dress, sending electric currents through your body. Anakin leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle peck. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching for your reaction. Seeing your approval, he leans in again, this time with more intensity. His kiss is soft yet passionate, filled with a sense of longing.

The kiss intensifies, your lips pressing harder against each other, tongues dancing in a rhythm only you two understand. Anakin's hands slide into your hair, pulling you closer, his breath hitching in your mouth. You break the kiss, trailing your lips against the rough stubble along his jaw. He groans softly, his hand tightening on your hair.

"Been thinkin' about you all day," Anakin panted between breaths. He grips your waist to pull you impossibly closer as you continue to explore his neck with your lips. "You and that damn dress." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, massaging them roughly through the thin fabric of your dress.

You giggle softly, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck. "You're that worked up over a dress, Ani?" Anakin whines quietly in response, his hips desperately bucking in your direction. You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on Anakin's. His eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly dropped to your knees, your hands reaching for his belt buckle. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, his cock straining against his pants.

Your hands reach for the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down, revealing his muscular thighs. You reach down further, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his underwear. With a quick tug, they fall to the ground revealing his thick cock, hard and ready just for you.

"You're killing me kid." He managed to croak out as you slowly wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it gently. You lean forward and kiss his angry red tip. It twitches in anticipation, leaking a small amount of precum onto your lip. Your tongue darts out, tentatively exploring the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste. You moan softly, your hands reaching down to cup his balls, massaging them gently.

Anakin's hands grip your hair tightly, his moans turning into groans of pleasure as you continue to tease him. "F-fuckin' hell," he growls, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You stroke the part of him that doesn't fit into your mouth, your fingers gliding up and down his length. You can feel him twitching, his body trembling under your touch.

His cock pulses in your hand and his breaths come in ragged gasps. You gag slightly, your eyes watering, but you don't pull away. Instead, you take as much of him as you possibly can.

" 'M close- hold on, I'm- ah!" His cock twitches violently in your mouth, shooting a hot stream of cum down your throat. You swallow it unhesitatingly, eager to please him. Gazing up at Anakin, your eyes is fixed on his. He's panting heavily, his hands shaking slightly. His eyes are filled with admiration and desire. You can feel the heat of his gaze, and it makes you blush slightly.

"Come 'ere," he says, his voice hoarse. He pulls you to your feet, his lips crashing into yours. His tongue dances with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands wandering over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer. As you kiss Anakin, you can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressing against your thigh. He slowly walks forward, guiding you towards the small tractor in the back of the barn. His lips never leave yours, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch. He moans into the kiss, slapping his big hand against the fat of your ass. "Turn around for me baby." he commands.

Anakin bends you over the tractor, and flips your dress up, exposing your pink cotton panties to him. He strokes the growing wet spot gently, his fingers grazing your bare skin.

"Jesus, she's practically dripping for me." he whispers, his voice filled with lust. His hands move to your panties, tugging them to the side, revealing your swollen, hot flesh. He licks his lips, his eyes locked onto your slobbering cunt. His cock pulses, ready to be inside you.

Anakin lines up his cock with your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasp, your body adjusting to his girth. He holds onto your hips, guiding himself inside you. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely. You moan softly, your body quickly getting used to his size. "Thaaat's it, angel." he praises, his voice low and alluring. "Let me in."

His hips move slowly at first, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your body responds, your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper. Anakin's breaths come in ragged gasps as he starts to move faster, his hips slamming into you, each thrust sending you further onto the tractor.

You cry out as he sweetly rolls his abdomen, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each movement. The tractor creaks under your weight, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the barn.

"Takin' me so good baby." he growls, you can feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely.

"M-more Ani," you beg, your voice hoarse. "Need more-"

"Yeah? You want more?" he rasps, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. Anakin pulls you up by your neck and your back is now pressed against his chest. He thrusts harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every movement. You yelp in surprise, your nails digging into the arm he has wrapped around your shoulders to keep your body flush against his. "There you go, you can take it, I know you can."

"Needy little girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "Just couldn't keep your hands off me at dinner, shit, could've bent you over that damn table and fucked you raw in front of your folks if I wanted to."

You moan, your head thrown back, your body moving with his. Your walls flutter around him when you hear his vulgar words.

He chuckles, his hands gripping your neck tighter. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Oh, you're dirty." He turns your head roughly, his lips crashing into yours, kissing you messily.

His tongue duels with yours, his hands gripping your neck tighter, holding you in place. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling. "Ani- cumming, c-cumming!" You can't form any coherent words, your breath coming in gasps as you neared your climax.

"Let go sweetheart, I got you," Anakin's breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. You cry out as your orgasm quickly wracks over your body, your cunt contracting tightly around his cock. "That's my girl, c'mon." His breath comes in ragged gasps, and sweat trickles down his forehead, his chest heaving. It takes a few more powerful thrusts for him to fully unload inside you, his cum filling you up completely.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and carefully withdraws from you, his cock glistening with your wetness. He hastily pulls up his pants and adjusts himself.

"You did so good for me." he whispers, his voice filled with awe. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. "You look even prettier now," he says, his eyes filled with admiration.

He reaches up, fixing your hair, his fingers grazing your face. "You best get back to the house," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You know I'll be here tomorrow."

You nod, your cheeks flushed, your heart still racing from your encounter with him. "Mhm," you hum quietly. He smirks, his eyes filled with mischief.

You smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks when he leans in and brings his lips to yours one last time.

Anakin leads you towards the barn door, his hand still wrapped around yours. "I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart." he coos, his voice filled with promise.

You nod, your cheeks still flushed, your heart racing. "See you, farmboy." you say, your voice shaky. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you step out of the barn, your body still buzzing from the encounter. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, watching you every step of the way. You glance back, catching him standing by his truck, his hands on his hips, watching you walk away.

You enter the house, trying to compose yourself. Your parents were still awake, sitting in the living room, sipping on their drinks. They didn't notice anything amiss about you, thankfully. You made your way upstairs to your room, still feeling the evidence of your encounter between your legs.

You feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Anakin will be waiting for you at that old barn, ready to have you whenever he wants.

[heartfullofleeches]

[Amab Darling half ended up being more suggestive than intended. My bad]

Damsel is quick to identify themselves as a pure an innocent maiden..... Until Afab Evil Royal Darling plots to have a child with the ruler of their kingdom to take over without doing their research, assuming Damsel to have the same parts as them when they meet the future queen.

"P....please let me go! I'm just an innocent princess!"

"Yes, I am aware...." The royal sighs. "And here I was planning to seduce and marry a prince to later have his child so I could rule once I killed him. It was a foolish idea from the start."

"W-what?!" Damsel locks the bars of their cage in a steel grip, wiggling the rustled poles looser with every shake. "You can still us me for that purpose! Just let me get this skirt off and I'll show you! It would be easier if my hands weren't cuffed... Perhaps you'd like to remove my clothing yourself?

-

Alternatively-

Amab Demon Lord Darling seeing (Amab) Damsel with loose knowledge on mortal anatomy and assuming dress = female so they decide to breed the maiden and use their children as leverage to take over the kingdom, but no matter how hard they try their seed just won't take.

Demon Lord out of breath and drenched in sweat, determining wavering as they gaze with tired eyes into the love-struck pupils of the princess. Just how is this mere moral able to keep their composure when the ruler on the underworld is at their wit's end?

"Why aren't you with child yet?! We've been going at this for four days straight!"

Damsel lets out a giggle, placing a sweet kiss to their lover's jawline. "Weren't you aware, my love? Conception between humans and demons takes more effort on the latter's part. You'll need to breed for a least a week or so if you truly wish for me to bear your children."

[teatreeoilll]

𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲 (𝗛𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗛𝗶𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶 𝗫 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . •

w/c - 2.6k content - MDNI! 18 +, fem!reader, porn with plot, asking a man in a suit to not take it off when he fucks you, not proofread because it's so late rn, hope I'll get to it tomorrow

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .•

When Higuruma Hiromi finished climbing up the stairs, moving slowly and sighing until he finally reached his apartment, the walls around the floor were already rhythmically humming.

"Fucking hell," It took every single ounce of strength in his body to turn away from his own door and turn to knock on the neighbors'.

Goddamn it, not him again, you think as you unlock the door, wincing at the passing thought of ever finding the grumpy, tired man waiting outside of your apartment in any way attractive.

"Yes?" You utter, cross-armed with a fake smile glazing your lips.

He stares into the space behind you for a moment before meeting your eyes, "I'm sorry to bother you," you should be sorry for bothering me, "I know we've had this discussion before," about a million goddamn times, "but if you wouldn't mind," before I go insane, "turning down the music?"

"Listen," you drawl, mimicking his calm tone through gritted teeth, "we talked this through already. It's still early, and it's not against the law to listen to music at a reasonable volume in my own apartment."

Higuruma's eye twitched at the words, still trying to retain a neutral expression. The law? You're bringing up the law? Now, Higuruma Hiromi didn't consider himself a proud man, but the next words to come out of his mouth made his self-respect plummet, "I'm sorry, it's just that ever since my wife died, I've been having trouble sleeping."

You blink slowly, your arms dropping to the sides of your body, "O-oh," you babbled, "I'm so sorry, I didn't - I - " the heat rises to your cheeks, "I'm so sorry, uh, I didn't catch your name - "

"Higuruma Hiromi," he adds.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Hiromi; I'll turn it down."

That evening, Hiromi sinks on the sofa like he's carried by angel's wings, relishing in the serene, tranquil, long-awaited silence. But something itches at the back of his mind; he spent too many days in court to know that a lie will always come back to bite.

-

"Shit," you hiss as your groceries hitting the building's floor, apples rolling on the tiles beneath you. "Stupid apples," you grumble as you stoop down, desperately trying to stuff them into your overflowing bag.

"Do you need help?" A voice behind you asks.

"It's fine," you breathe, catching another rolling apple in your hand, "I'm just here, uh, cussing at the fruit."

"I can see that," and Hiromi crouches down to help you, the fabric of his suit rustling as his pale fingers help you pick up the things off the floor.

You unlock your door, pushing it in with your shoulder, and your neighbor follows suit into your apartment.

"Where do I - " Hiromi stands at the entrance, his arms packed with your shopping.

"Oh - uh, " you walk to the kitchen counter, "right here is fine," you fix your gaze on the man unloading your shopping, a strand of hair falling on his forehead as he does. "Thank you."

After he finished, his eyes turn to find yours, and you're not quite sure why you're staring or at what, with your gaze rolling from his suit to his dark eyes, but you manage to conclude that, strangely enough, it's not unnatural to see him standing in your kitchen.

A long moment of silence graces the room before he finally utters, "It's nothing."

You thank him three more times while he exits your apartment, and he brushes off each one. It's only after he leaves that you notice the rapid pace of your heart, and you walk to the mirror to look at your face, standing before it for a moment, wondering how long it has been since you've turned this deep shade of crimson.

-

Oh god, you're so nice.

"I've brought them up for you, I hope you don't mind," you smile at your neighbor, bent over in your too-tight lounge shorts to put a stack of letters near his door, "they just seemed to be piling up."

"You really didn't have to," He mutters, crouching to meet you at the bottom of his door, gathering the letters in his hands.

But you just kept the smile on your face, so soft and considerate the pangs of guilt overturned his stomach. "Oh, and - uh," is my face growing red? "I - I baked some cookies, I mean," you falter, "I mean, I baked too many cookies. Would you like some?"

Maybe he is attractive, your neighbor, with his soft and tired dark eyes; or maybe it's the depth of sorrow you thought resided in them that made the need to help him grow.

It would be rude to decline, wouldn't it? "S-sure," he says - But it's immoral to agree, and the thought fades at the scent of fresh baked goods from your apartment already filling the hallway.

You don't mean to be rude when you walk through his door, setting a small plate of glazed lemon cookies on his old coffee table, your gaze darting to the pile of records on the shelf in the corner, "So, you do like music," you chuckle, eyes fluttering over the names on the covers.

"I do," he admits, the soft lemon cookie melting on his tongue, "But if Sinatra came here and sang while I'm trying to sleep, I don't think I'd like him that much anymore."

You catch his gaze, and your lips twitch for a moment before you burst into laughter. God, he stares at you, thinking you're an almost ethereal sight as you browse his records, perched on his old leather couch, laughing at something he said, with your smile scrunching the corners of your eyes so gracefully he thinks he just might -

"Love?" you ask.

"Yes?"

And you laugh again, "No - I meant, Love." You point at the record sitting on the top of the shelf, "Didn't take you for one to listen to them."

He coughs, a red blush dusting his pale cheeks, "It's a good album."

"It is, I don't think I've ever heard it on vinyl," you say, the palms of your hands grazing your thighs as you lift yourself up from the sofa, "Well, I think I better be off - "

"Would you like to?" He asks.

"Sure."

As you sit there, listening to the soft flamenco-style guitar flowing from the record player, it takes everything from Hiromi to calm the urge to touch you or at least hold your hand, fuck, he'd settle for a brush of your fingers against his own. Tackling these urges, blatantly ignoring the music, his mind replays the same old words he'd read countless times, a thing he usually does when he's trying to take his mind off something; - One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house on Pereoulok S - , and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, towards the K - bridge.* *a/n: the opening line of Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky

-

The faint smile you give him as you meet him at the entrance to the building makes the blood rush to his ears.

"Good evening," you say, and Hiromi thinks it really is much better now.

"Good evening," he answers, pointing at the exit, "I'm out to the convenience, do you need anything?"

You shake your head, "Thank you," you say before continuing the path up the stairs.

It's a frantic knock on the door that startles you once you're out of the shower, and you rush to open it, towel still wrapped around your damp hair.

"Yes?" Your gaze meets a young, short-haired woman, a stack of papers barely fitting in the grip of her hands.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I must have gotten the doors mixed up, does Higuruma Hiromi live on this floor?"

You nod, pointing a finger to the door next to yours, "But I just saw him leaving."

"Oh, crap -," the woman mutters, "I'm terribly sorry to ask this, but these are for the trial tomorrow," she lifts the papers up a bit, "would you mind if I leave them with you?"

"Trial?" You inquire, already holding your hands out to take the papers.

"Yes, a boy arrested on suspicion of murder and robbery," she sighs, "he won't let it go."

You hold the stack of papers, "Hiromi's a lawyer?"

The woman chuckles, "Oh, ah - yes."

"He works so hard," you think aloud, "even after what happened to his wife."

The woman's brows furrow, "Wife? Oh god, no, Mr. Higuruma's not married."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing at her words, "Sorry - uhm, has he ever been married?"

She shakes her head, "Well, I'll just leave these with you; I'll call him so he'll pick them up once he returns," she parts with a curt bow.

-

Loud. Insufferably, overwhelmingly, dreadfully, loud. The music crashes onto the walls, making them buzz so furiously you would have missed the knock on the door if only you weren't already waiting for it.

"Yes?" you scoff at the puzzled lawyer standing at your doorstep.

Hiromi's eyebrows knit together, the music reverberating through the staircase as he asked, "It's a bit loud, don't you think?"

You step away for a moment to find the stack of papers, returning to the doorstep to shove it in his arms, "Why? Will it piss off your imaginary wife?"

Oh, he thinks, and the door slams in his face.

He goes into his apartment and places the papers on the coffee table. He sits down to read them, only to find his eyes skimming over the letters, not quite making any sense of what he's reading with the music playing through the wall and his conscience raging in his mind.

Another knock on the door, and you open it with a huff, "Forgot something?"

Hiromi stands with his arms dangling by the sides of his body, a soft look in his eyes as he mutters, "I'm sorry."

He's just a neighbor, right? A nice one, at that, with a handsome face and kind eyes. Why am I so angry? Why's the music blaring with the intent of ruining his evening? Why's he standing so close -

It's an eternity in your mind, but only a few seconds pass while you think, unconsciously staring directly at his lips. He catches that, of course, he wouldn't get anywhere in court if he wasn't mindful of nuance.

The first thing you feel is his hand grasping at the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close to him. Next, the soft brush of his lips against yours as he breathes, "Is this alright?"

You don't answer; instead, you grasp at his arms through the fabric of his suit, capturing his lips as a fog settles in your mind, a soft hum running from your mouth to his.

His arms wander on your body while you relish in the softness of his lips; they skim across your lower back to come down and hold a firm grip on your ass when his tongue finally darts into your mouth. "Fuck," he pants, pushing you up against the wall, and you only momentarily remember you should probably close the damn door.

"Hm?" he puzzles when you break away from the kiss, watching you gesture towards the door, "I guess you can be considerate towards your neighbors," and he pushes the door, his tongue returning to your mouth before he even hears the closing thud.

It doesn't take long for him to slide his hand from your ass into your pants, long fingers gliding on your lower stomach, dragging the fabric of your underwear to the side as he rubs circles over your clit. "Don't be so quiet," he hums against your lips when he sees you biting back your moans, "Trust me, no one can hear you through this noise."

"Fuck, Hiro - " you gasp at the feeling of his fingers entering your cunt, one look at his glazed-over eyes and you try to desperately press your lips to his again, but he finds the crook of your neck instead, sucking on the skin there, leaving small bruises while his fingers glide in and out of your soaked cunt.

Each graze of his teeth against your neck makes you clench against his fingers, and he feels himself growing unbearably hard at the feeling, the slight friction of his cock rutting against the fabric of his trousers barely enough to give him some relief.

"Shit, sucking my fingers in like that - " he murmurs against your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing the spot that made you whimper, "You close?" And you feel the knot in your stomach come undone at his words, wetness gushing over his fingers as your body quivers.

You let out a choked gasp when he picks you up from the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Your clothes are discarded by the time you reach the couch, and you're trapped under him, back pressed against the sofa while the fabric of his suit rubs against your naked body.

The jacket of his suit falls to the floor, and his hand reaches to undo his tie, "N-no," you breathe, "Leave it on," you say as your hand works on the zipper of his trousers, pulling them down together with his underwear just low enough for his cock to spring out.

"Dirty," he chuckles against your lips, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. You moan at the feeling, pushing your hips down to take in the tip, "I always liked lawyers," you push a hand up to grip his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

"Did you now?" His muscles tighten as he pushes his cock further into you, rolling his hips to finally bottom out inside you.

"Mhmm," you moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy push against his thrusts, drunk on the soft smell of his cologne lingering in the air.

"Hiro - " you can barely breathe out his name with the feeling of his cock working you open, your hand leaving his hair to grip at his tie dangling from his neck, holding it tightly in your fist.

"God," he groans, chasing his climax with deeper thrusts, "you really do like lawyers," he huffs as your pussy clenches against him, the heat spreading under his skin.

He pulls out, and you whimper at the absence of his cock as he flips you, your head pressed flat against the couch, your ass perked up against his hips. His thrusts feel unbelievably deeper from that angle, his hand reaching to grip mercilessly at your hair to pull your head up.

"Ah - Fuck -," you babble, "Hiro - I - ," your reach a hand to rub your clit, his thrusts a perfect pace to the coiling tension in your stomach, and he anchors his hand on the fat of your ass, fingers digging deeper as he bites back his moans, coming closer to his own release.

"I - Ah -, " and you don't even finish your moan as your back arches, heat coursing through your body as you come, feeling as if you'd collapse if not for his hand holding you up by your hair. His hips stutter, a silent 'fuck' escaping his lips as you feel his seed painting your walls, his thrusts finally slowing down.

He pulls out, releasing the grip on your hair, and you turn a flushed gaze towards him, a dazed smile glazing your lips. He adjusts himself back in his trousers, his eyes falling on the speakers on your table, still ruthlessly blasting music.

"Is this the..?" He motions towards the speakers, and you nod.

He gets up, his hand twisting the volume knob until the white mark on it touches zero. The room grows silent.

Finally, he thinks.

[white-poppie]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 ⎯⎯⎯ s.suguru x fem!reader (part 1/?)

SYNOPSIS: You were young, dumb and so in love. There was always this adrenaline rush when you and Suguru were together; harmony, romance and protection. Fate, you called it. Our youth ⎯ you cherished it. But every high ends doesn't it? When Suguru left; the sorcerer society and you, Shoko and Satoru. And you were left with the weight of more than what you could carry. Decisions of your youth, testament of your love. TW: sexual intercourse <not really explicit, but I'll tag it as smut>, Satoru and Shoko being super depressed, heartbreak, abandonment, !!mentions of teen-pregnancy and abortion!!, crying, smoking, suguru being cruel, panic attacks

Series masterlist ── Chapter 2 : Moon Child

"This is the last time." He whispers, his voice hoarse, his lips pressing against the nape of your neck. His large hands grip your waist tightly, his hot breath fanning on your skin as he looks at you, and you feel your chest tighten into knots. "I won't be able to see you again anymore." He says, deftly pulling on the hem of your top.

Your lips part, a shaky breath leaving the warm cavern. You knew this was coming. The way he was spiralling out of despair. His long lashes flutter against his cheek, eyebrows scrunched ever so slightly at the centre of his forehead. His teeth are clenched tightly, a muscle lightly feathers on his jaw. Little lilac veins bedeck the expanse of his pale neck, its a strange hue. Starting with a purple undertone it fades into a soft greenish-blue.

You gulp and remain silent as you wrap your arms around his neck. Shaky breaths, and the rustle of the sheets is the only sound that echoes with the walls of the room. You are hyperaware, as if your brain is wracking hard to absorb every single sensory detail of tonight.

Slowly, he lays you down on the bed, his large and calloused hand coming to cup your cheek, his eyes taking in the sight of you underneath him. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a silent command for you to look him in the eye. "I hope you hate me." He whispers, his chest rising and falling quickly. "If the last thought you have of me is disgust and disdain, I could die a happy man."

You look up at him, your hand clenching the sheets as he removes your t-shirt. Your skin feels frigid under air con, cold blood washing upto your head; your throat is parched. You just wish the world would swallow me down, burn your body with lapping tongues of fire...at least then you would be warm. "I could never hate you..." you manage to croak out, your eyes blankly looking at the ceiling, anywhere but him.

"You're a fool." He whispers quietly, his mouth trailing down your neck, and you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, his fingers dancing along the lace pattern of your black brassiere. "You're so foolish," he whispers again, his other hand grabbing your thigh and pulling you closer. "To love someone and expect them to love you back."

"I know...." You whisper out, its like an invisible hand is constricting your heart. A cruel reminder that it's written in the stars to be an ominous little thing undeserving of any love from anyone.

His voice is quiet, but you can still hear his words ringing in your ears as you feel his hot breath fan over your skin as he whispers in your ear. "You should hate me for leaving you like this, you should scream and yell, you should curse my name," He says, and you feel his teeth gently biting down on your earlobe.

A muffled gasp leaves your mouth at his nibble. You look up at his eyes, a watery smile making its way on your face as he tells you to hate him. "Suguru." You whisper out so lovingly, in a worshipping way, yout eyes so full of devotion and reverence. Even when tears line your eyes, even when his words rip you apart. "Suguru, my love."

His eyes go wide at your soft whisper, and you can feel his hands tighten on your waist as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Fuck" He whispers out his voice so heavy, you almost think he would cry. "You're so beautiful," He tells you, his voice choked up. "You're the prettiest person I've ever seen." He whispers, feverishly moving to unclasp your clothes, throwing it on the ground. His jaw trembles just a little, a shaky breath leaving his mouth.

He buries his face between your chest, fists clenching the fabric of the sheets, just inhaling sharply, you can feel the rough pads of his fingers trail up your sides. His breath is hot, his kisses searing your skin, you feel warm now. Its a given under his smouldering gaze as he looks up at you.

You can't help but whimper softly, hands weaving into his dark locks. His finds purchase on the smooth flesh of your hips, his fingers squeezing gently. "Pretty girl," he whispers under his breath as a strange sensation runs down your spine like you had walked into a lukewarm bath, the water rising till your tailbone. Its a sickly feeling.

His hand trails down, till all your clothes are discarded somewhere in the void, the corners of your eyes are blurry, you can't exactly see anything but him.

You shiver and peer at him, watching him discard his clothing. he's so pretty, you think, like some dark seraph who's wrath was a but too much for the pearly gates and so he fell down....into your bed. A sudden dread claws at your ribs. There would be other woman who would see him like this. Others who he'd use for his vendetta, but regardless they'd see him in all his glory.

His eyes a dark like pools of tar, dripping down and defiling your cherub-blood. You want to sink you teeth into his skin and rip his heart out, cradle it to your chest and never let go. You need him to be yours. Its so unfair.

He pulls you up towards him, his hands settling under your thighs as he spreads your legs on either side of him. A low grumble leaves your mouth as your eyebrows furrow. Your heart hurts in a way that makes you dizzy. Your throat runs dry with this sudden tsunami of emotions that hits your so hard that your ribs hurt.

His breathing is heavy and loud, his eyes staring down at you intently as you look up at him. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest as he moves slowly, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly it almost hurts, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You let out sharp, shaky whimpers. Trembling as your nose reddens, your heart feels like it’s breaking. You are never gonna see him again, feel him again. The world should cease to move.

He holds you close to his chest, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his breath coming out in a hot, heavy puff, fanning your skin with each passing moment.

Your hands shiver, and throat becomes so dry that its hard to breathe. You can't breathe. You can't let him go. The stoicness you had maintained to not look pathetic, to not cry in front of him when he was abandoning you. Its all crumbling down at this intimacy. This warmth has you feeling so vulnerable that you want to curl up and burrow to hide myself. A soft sob leaves your mouth as tears melt down from your eyes at the slightest bit of his warmth, breathlessly.

He freezes at the sound of your sob, his body stilling completely as he looks down at you. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear that threatens to fall. His eyes soften as he looks at you, his breathing slowing down as he gazes at you in wonder. His thumb trails across your skin and wipes another tear that threatens to fall, the look in his eyes heartbreaking as he looks at you.

And beyond that, you can't help the stream of soft sobs that you try so hard to stifle. You rest my arm over my eyes to stop looking, to stop feeling. Your shoulders tremble as all the indifference you were putting up, shatters down painfully.

His eyes go blank, and it’s as if everything comes crashing down around the two of you. He tries to stay strong, he truly does - but watching you cry like this, hearing the sounds you make as you try and hold it in, it’s almost too much. He pulls you up towards him, his arms encircling around your waist as he buries his face in your neck.

You cry out against his skin, your fingers tremble as your arms firmly wrap around him, afraid to let him go. Your stomach churns, and body burns. You want it to be a terrible dream. "Don't go." You cry out pathetically, sobbing. "Please don't go."

He stiffens, his arms tightening around your middle as he hears you say that. Your plea is like a knife in his heart, and he can’t help the way his arms tighten around you, as if trying to cling on to something that’s about to slip away. "Don’t…” He whispers out, his voice rough. “I told you… don’t make this harder than it already is," he says, his voice choked up. The pain in your voice is enough to break his heart, and he can’t help but feel utterly horrible as he holds you in his arms - but he can’t change his mind, he can’t stay with you, he can’t allow himself to get too attached to you. He already is, but he refuses to admit it, to even acknowledge the possibility of it.

And before you know it, your eyebrows furrow as you are lain back down again, a feathered gasp of pleasure and the pain that grips your heart leaves your throat.

He gasps as he looks down at you, your moans making his heart flutter with something almost akin to love. He leans forward, his face mere inches away from yours as his breath fans over your skin, and in a moment of weakness, he leans down and presses his lips against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

And you unravel. He feels his heart ache as he looks at you, unable to stop the feelings that flood his chest, making his emotions go into overdrive. He leans down and presses his lips against your skin, kissing a trail down your neck as he whispers soft words of praise into the crook of your neck.

You pant as your eyes flutter in tiredness, hand coming to tuck the strand of his hair behind his ear. You can't sleep...you are scared to sleep. He'll dissapear.

He slumps against your body, his breathing coming out in heavy, laboured pants, his heart racing at a rapid pace in his chest. He stays like that, his fingers trailing up your back aimlessly, feeling the smooth expanse of your skin under his fingertips. For a moment, he imagines this is their life, that he could have the privilege of waking up next to you, caress your skin and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. But that can’t happen. He knows that, no matter how hard his heart is beating or how loud his mind begs him to stay.

You sniffle softly and he shifts, letting you bury face in his chest, your tears hollowing him again. He's leaving you, Satoru, Shoko...its all memories now. He has a greater purpose, he'll raise a Jujutsu only world. The world is far too cruel for people like you...its his way of protecting you.

He lays in bed for a long, long time, holding you close to his chest. He watches you for hours, his heart pounding in his ears as he listens to your breathing, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, the way your mouth opens just a bit when you breathe. He memorizes every inch of your face, the way you look when asleep, the way your face softens when you’re in your most vulnerable state. He looks at you for hours, before gently untangling your hand from his arm and getting out of bed.

You wake up hours later at Shoko's phone call. Your eyes fluttering as you answer her sleepily.

"Hm?"

"Y/N, Suguru's killed 152 civillians, including his parents. He's left." She says and your breath hitches. You look around the room, heart racing when you don't see him. It wasn't a dream. He was here, he left. You could've stopped this massacre from happening. You could've convinced him. You could've killed him. It was your duty as a sorcerer when you knew what he would do.

You end the call and sit like that for hours, crying and sobbing into the sheets that still smell like him, the faint trace of his cologne sticking to the sheets long after he's gone. You stay there, unable to move, unable to bring yourself to get out of bed and face the empty apartment without him in it, facing the fact that he's gone. You cry until your throat is raw, and your eyes sting, and you can only hiccup and sob quietly into the sheets. Suguru Geto is a cruel, cold-blooded murderer.

Days turn to weeks, you feel yourself get paler, wearier. It was pathetic in some way to be this despondent after a heartache, but here you were. You try to get on with your life; you, Shoko and Satoru; working as Jujutsu students during the day, but no one talks about the loneliness that claws at the three of you during the nights. No one even mentions him, its painfully obvious how the topics are shifted at the slightest mention of him...

You sigh, resting your head against the wall of the infirmary tiredly as the smell of the nicotine and smoke from Shoko's cig permeates through the room. Its nauseating.

"Shoko, can you not smoke?" you grumble in frustration and Shoko briefly glances at you, before continuing to smoke.

You take a deep shaky breath as you look at her with your eyes furrowed. "Shoko. put the cigarette down." You punctuate and she frowns but either way puts the cigarette down on the ashtray with a scoff.

"You are being a bitch right now." She scoffs as she walks towards you, leaning against the wall where you are sitting down.

"Well I am sorry if the smell is making me feel sick." You sigh, running your hands through your hair and she hums, her eyes briefly flickering to the wallpaper on your flip-phone, a picture of you and Suguru she herself had clicked on his last birthday.

"Did you eat since the morning?" she asks casually and you close your eyes, shaking your head.

"Didn't feel like it." You mutter before you feel her cool hand against your forehead, seeing if you are warm.

"I do not have a fever Suguru-- I mean Shoko." you correct yourself, but your voice dies down a whisper at your error. Her eyes soften lightly at your words and she sighs, plopping down on the floor next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for several minutes. The faint whirr of the infirmary fridge and light ticks of the wall clock being the only dominating sounds in the room.

"Have you ben sleeping?" she asks quietly and you let out a mirthless snigger.

"Can't remember the last time I did." you say and she breathes out.

"Me neither," she says, shifting her hands and resting them on her knees

"Shoko..." you croak out, gulping slightly. The sound immediately draws her attention as she whips her head towards you. "I missed my cycle..." you say and your voice wavers like a little sapling underneath a harsh storm.

Her eyes widen, slowly, gradually as it hits. She sucks a deep breath about to say something before the infirmary door opens harshly, Satoru holding two dango sticks in his hand, on the door sill.

"Yo." he says and you sigh, looking back at Shoko. Satoru's smile falters slightly as he looks at the both of you, noticing the tense atmosphere in the room. He looks at Shoko with a questioning look, his eyes then flicking over to you. Satoru had always been a brilliant observer, almost too brilliant. He frowns slightly at the way your face looks as you look at him, the look on your face making his heart feel heavy. "What's wrong?"

"I think I have kept some spare pregnancy tests in the infirmary." she says and Satoru's eyes widen he feels this strange sense of dread wash over him as he looks at you, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. "Wait...what?"

You look at Shoko get up and fetch them from the drawers. Satoru looking between the two of you anxiously. His blue eyes softened in worry.

You take the kits from Shoko and shakily gulp, looking at her as you sigh. It felt dystopian, taking a few deep breaths you walk into the washroom and follow the instructions, waiting for the three sticks to turn out.

Your breath seemed logdged in your throat. No matter how much your tried, it felt stuck. Suguru...you needed him. You needed your lover to take care of you, press you to his chest, whispering sweet-nothings. "Everything will be okay. Whatever decision you make I am going to be by your side, forever."

You gulp and look at the three sticks. Positive. All of them. Not even a single a negative one. Its always said these sticks are not a good measure for pregnancy test, but here there are all of them positive. Even if one turned out to be erroneous, the majority still said positive.

You felt your world shift in its axis...no- it stilled, completely. Your pbottom lip trembled as a soft hiccup left your throat, and as soon as that, a harsh knock rebounded on the door, making you flinch.

"Y/N?" Gojo sounded. He seemed frantic, panicked, worried. "Is everything alright?" You couldn't speak, little cries taht you tried so hard to stiffle left your mouth.

You could hear Satoru take a sharp breath outside, followed by Shoko's muffled voice. All at once he opened the door, his cerulean pupil shrunken as he looked at the three tests on the slab.

"Shit..." He gasped, his hand flying to his mouth as he hesitantly looked at you. His heart shattering at the sight of you so small, crying, shaking. Immediately he envolved his arms around you, pressing you to his chest...

"Its okay, its fine," he whispered but his own voice was shaky. Never in his life had he momentarily detested Suguru so much. He wanted to search every corner of the world, slap him and bring him back to you.

Shoko frowns slightly, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. "Do you..." She hesitates for a moment, looking at you and Satoru before she continues. "Do you want to keep it?" She asks you softly, her eyes flickering down to your stomach for a moment before looking back at your face. "You know it's your choice...it's your body. No one can force you to keep it if you don't want to."

You gulp sharply, your shoulders shivering against Satoru's broad chest. Your baby, you and Suguru's baby...you couldn't possibly give it up! You were a healer, your job was to save lives! How could you give on the testament of your and Suguru's love?

"No...I am keeping them." You whisper with an anguished look, parting from Satoru.

Shoko sighs softly as she looks at you with a conflicted look on her face. She knew that deep down, that's what you were going to decide. She knew that you could never get rid of the one thing that was keeping you tied to Suguru forever. No matter how hard your heart will ache every time you look at the child growing in your stomach, the child that looks or acts like him, the one thing that can keep him in your life forever. Shoko can tell from the bittersweet look on your face: you are going to keep this baby.

Satoru's heart aches at your words, the reality of the situation crashing down on his shoulders all at once. Here you are, pregnant with Suguru's baby, and Suguru isn't going to be here to see the baby. He isn't going to be here to help you with your cravings and your hormones, or to be there by your side, holding your hand as you scream and cry during birth. He isn't going to be there to see the baby's first steps, or the first time they say 'daddy'.

You couldn't help but look back at your phone's wallpaper, only to be interjected by Satoru.

"That kid is going to know how to curse people before they even know the times table." He says with a proud grin. Shoko sighs softly at Satoru's ridiculous declaration and rolls her eyes. "I'll teach them to get on your nerves before they're even born."

You let out a shaky breath and nod, tears rolling down your eyes. It was going to be terribly hard, you know that, but the burden would be slightly less with Shoko and Satoru on your side.

"Don't cry..." Satoru murmurs, wiping your tears with his thumb, "It'll be alright, you'll be a great mom." He says, his big cerulean eyes pooling with adoration as he looks at you.

Continued.

11 months later.... ── Chapter 2 : Moon Child

- FANFICTIONS

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Tags for 'our youth': @ibukiaa, @yu22tas

[pomefioredove]

If the flirtatious lines event is still happening, I do have a little request, and this is absolutely not forced!

Could you do “You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?” With Leona x reader? Here’s a little twist, though; The reader is the one saying that to Leona! I absolutely adore the idea of Leona being super shy when in love, seeing normally tough characters be out-of-character when they have a crush is ADORABLE to me! Plus, I don’t see enough of reader being the teasing one in Leona x reader fics.

Thank you for listening, have a lovely day/night!

ooh this makes SO much sense though, I see your vision!!

summary: "you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?" type of post: short fic characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, probably really ooc idk

It's not the first time you've run into him, and it won't be the last.

It was annoying at first; your clumsiness, and that perpetual look of confusion and awe in your eyes...

You didn't belong here.

That was the first thing Leona thought about you.

Your good nature, the way you stupidly stumbled into trouble time and time again, even that look on your face; you'd make an easy meal for any predator.

And, as luck would have it, that would be him.

Though he certainly doesn't feel like the top of the food chain now.

"Talk to them," Ruggie pesters, hovering around his boss like a fly. Leona is tempted to swat him away.

"No,"

He puts a hand on his hip. "I don't see what the big deal is. You deal with being a prince your whole life, but you get choked up at the Prefect?"

Annoying. Leona is tempted to make a rude gesture, but his social etiquette gets the best of him.

"I am not choked up, but you're going to be unless you get lost," he says in a tone far too quiet.

He's lucky that Leona is in a merciful mood today.

"Suit yourself," Ruggie shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets and heading towards the exit.

Good. Leona didn't come here to talk about the Prefect, anyway.

Of all the stupid things...

He lies back in his original position, trying to drown out the sound of your voice and get some sleep. You're here with a group, doing some potionology thing, he figures. Great.

One of your friends makes you laugh, and he feels a strange sense of jealousy.

"I'll get the poppy," you sound rather pleased with yourself.

Though, as hard as he tries, he can't seem to dislike you.

A rustle, and then another beam of sunlight hits the secluded little spot, illuminating the both of you.

"Oh!" you say, eyes wide. "Sorry, Leona. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Always so polite. He wonders if that's just for show, or if you're being genuine.

"Mhm," he hums. He can't find it within himself to tell you off. It's like he's forgotten how to speak.

And he can't look at you.

"It's not over here..." you say under your breath. You're not even doing anything and he finds you endearing. "Well... sorry again."

Ruggie's words are still fresh in his mind- the pest- and he sighs.

"Wait," Leona says, standing. "You're looking for poppy? I know where it is."

You seem to hesitate. Not a good sign. "...I don't want to trouble you..."

"It would be more rude to turn down such a generous offer," he rebuffs. That's more like it.

And, so, you follow him. It feels nice, stringing you along for once.

Leona says nothing. With anyone else, he would've made at least one comment by now- no, with anyone else, he wouldn't have offered his help in the first place.

He brings you to another part of the botanical gardens, and shows you a row of potted poppies. Crewel had the second years move them yesterday.

"Ah, here they are. Thank you!" you smile. It's almost... cute. Ugh.

He says nothing.

You collect your material, and begin the walk back with him. He can feel your eyes on him, and he can tell there's something you want to ask.

"...You don't say much,"

Great. Leona huffs. Why does he feel so hot, all of a sudden? "I just have nothing to say,"

Even he sounds unsure of what he's claiming. You raise an eyebrow, a small smile gracing your lips.

"You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?"

And you're driving me mad, he thinks, but all he can do is grunt in response.

He feels nervous. Always so nervous around you.

Leona would never admit what those words did to him, but he didn't need to. He could feel the embarrassment on his face.

You stop at the mouth of the gardens. Your friends are waiting outside.

"Thanks again," you smile. It's genuine. He can't keep eye contact with you.

"...Sure,"

"Just, ah..." you say, looking between him and your puny first year friends as they call you over. "Let me know what I can do to repay the favor, okay?"

So naive. You're practically serving yourself on a silver platter. Like he originally thought, an easy meal for any predator.

...But, for once, that predator isn't him.

And he's actually going to have to work for this.

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞? — 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒋𝒐. ˒ ⊹

gojo pleads for your forgiveness the only way he knows how: making his baby feel good ♡

cw fem!reader / pet names used; baby, babydoll, princess, sweet girl / fingering / big dick gojo </3 / a crumb of unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!) / groping / just a quick little drabble to get back into the swing of things :3 NSFW CONTENT AHEAD, MINORS DNI

love, oak! hiiiiiii....... been awhile since i've posted any writing........... i've kind of been in the trenches w/ writers block !! and lowkey, i still am u_u. the only way i've been working through it is by writing little gifts for mooties !! lex, if u see this, yes this is one i've sent to u HAHAHA

"baby, you're really hurtin' my feelings here."

"hmph."

satoru frowns, pulling you further onto his lap. his broad hands cup the fat of your ass, teasingly squeezing. you bat at his shoulders and pout up at him.

"c'mon, baby," he coos. "what did 'toru do this time?

huffing, you turn your head away from him.

satoru clicks his tongue. "okay, if my baby won't talk to me, i'll just apologize in a different way. how's that sound?" he accompanies his words with a sinful roll of his hips, the bulge of his cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.

(satoru just loves when you wear skirts; not only do you look so cute in them, but the easy access is just such a bonus!)

"'toru," you hiss, hands clamping on his shoulders, you try to push him away to no avail - his grip on you is unforgiving and relentless. his hands grip your ass, pushing and pulling you against his hard-on to his whims. his slacks and your panties were the only barriers left and satoru was quite keen on getting rid of them.

"c'mon, babydoll," satoru grins at you, boyishly charming. "let me make you feel good. toru'll make it all feel better, yeah?"

disarmed by his sweet smile, or perhaps the way his blue eyes glimmer with want as he watches you keenly, you seem to crumble in his arms. just like that, you're putty in his hands, no longer fighting him as he pulls your panties to the side.

"m'kay," you sigh, running your hands over the hard plane of his chest. "you promise?"

"i promise."

he gives your ass another squeeze before he trails his hand along your hips, then down to the apex of your hips. he drags a calloused finger along your wet heat, circling your clit teasingly before he brings it lower and dips it into your hole.

you inhale sharply as he fingers you slowly, achingly, pulling you to the precipice but not quite letting you fall over. he only lets this go on for a little bit, at least until you're crying and begging for him to fill you up.

"alright princess, i won't tease you too much. c'mere, give me a kiss?"

and you obey, lips slotting to his in a messy kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth as you hear the telltale sound of a zipper being undone, fabric rustling as he pushes his boxers and slacks down just enough to free his cock.

he nips at your lower lip as he guides you to raise your hips. satoru's dick errs the side of too big; that's why he has to make sure you're soaking wet and ready to take him. so he pulls away only momentarily to smile up at you before he spits in his hand and fists his cock - he's sure you're wet enough to take him, but he likes to be thorough.

once he's satisfied, he guides the leaking tip of his cock through your sticky folds, slick with desire and aching all just for him. and when you're clawing at his shoulders, begging for him to just fuck you already, he chuckles deeply and finally, finally, he sinks into you.

and just like always, it feels world-shattering. he fills you up just right, pleasure erring just on the right side of pain as he stretches you out, pelvis flush to the apex of your thighs as he holds you there, letting you adjust.

you sniffle, looking up at satoru with that doe-eyed stare that he just can't get enough of. the thought that only you can feel satoru in this way - the only person he'll ever let feel him this way, you think - is enough to make the coil in your gut twist further. he raises an eyebrow at you, pressing kisses to your eyelids, kissing away the tears of pleasure that gather there.

"i haven't even started moving you yet, sweet girl. you're clenchin' so nicely around me. feel good? do you forgive me yet?"

"mhm," you sigh out, rocking your hips. his broad hands hold you steady, not allowing for much movement. when you nod your head up at him, pouting with those kiss-bruised lips of yours, he can't help but grin further and press his lips to yours again.

satoru is sure to make you feel him in every way possible; after all, it's the only proper way to earn your forgiveness ♡.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !! @houseofsolisoccasum + @interstellar-inn

[redwinterroses]

It's not like it's hard to get Tango taking about Decked Out, but buy him a couple of potions in the museum speakeasy and he gets downright confessional.

Grian leans across the stat poker table, his wings rustling eagerly. "Truth or dare, Tango," he says. "Is Decked Out... alive?"

“Aren’t I supposed to pick truth or dare before you ask the question?” Tango tosses back another potion and gives the group a half-smirk.

“We all know you’re going to pick truth because you’re too particled to get up.” Etho’s face is obscured, but they can hear the laugh in his voice and see his fox ears twitch with amusement. “So spill.”

Tango shrugs. "Well," he says, "It's not exactly not NOT alive, if you know what I mean."

Grian glances at Doc on his right and Etho on his left. They shrug at him.

"Yeah, no," he says, looking back at Tango. "I don't think we know what that means."

"Is it like that Grumbot robot that Mumbo and Grian built?" Doc asks, scratching thoughtfully at his chin, his blunt black claws scritching loudly against the stubble of his beard. Grian tries to catch a peek at his stat tokens and gives a sheepish grin when Doc notices and quickly angles them away.

"Hey, now," Doc starts to say, but Tango interrupts.

"Nah, no -- I mean, Grumbot was pretty... Simple. No offense."

"None taken." Grian pulls a token from his stack. "Number of villagers traded with," he offers. "And I'll up the ante to three diamond blocks, gentlemen."

Tango lays down his own token, and taps a finger on it in an aimless rhythm. “The dungeon is… aware,” he says. “Not alive, I guess, but it knows things. It recognizes people.”

“I’ve noticed,” Etho says dryly. “That place hates me.”

They all laugh, but Tango shakes his head. “Does it hate you?” he asks and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Or does it want to impress you?”

“Oh, I’m impressed enough.” Etho drops his stat token on the table with a soft click. “So it can stop glitching and trying to kill me now.”

“Aww, you’re just playing hard to get.”

Doc lays his tokens down on the table and stands. “I will sit out this round, I think,” he says. “I have done almost nothing with villagers this season. Will anyone have more to drink?”

“I’m not playing hard to get!” Etho protested, ears lying flat. “If anything, I’m playing easy to get – I just walk right in there!”

“You heard it first here, folks,” Tango says. “Etho’s easy.”

He ducks, but not in time to dodge the rolled-up napkin Etho chucks at his face. It lands in his hair and goes up in a miniature whump of flame.

Grian snickers, waving away smoke.

“So if the dungeon’s not alive, but it’s not quite not alive,” he says. “How does one maybe go about… making friends with it?”

“That,” Doc says, thunking a fresh bottle of Cub’s custom-mixed potion onto the table. “Is cheating, you pesky bird. No flirting with the possibly-not-not-alive dungeon.”

“You’re telling me you’re above flirting for a few extra keys and crowns, Doc?” Tango asks with teasing skepticism.

Doc sniffs, flipping the cork from his bottle with his thumb. “I don’t need flirting,” he says dismissively. “I have skills. Game strategies, man.”

“He’s already planning how to get the dungeon’s attention.” Etho flips his token over, exposing the total. “Aren’t’cha, Doc.”

Doc tips back his drink and shrugged. “Eh… that is for me to know, and you to worry about.” He winks.

“Tango, what’s your total there?” Grian fiddles with his token.

“Well, I know it’s higher than old three-digit Minecraft master over here.” Tango holds up his token and pinches it between his fingers. “Under three hundred, Etho? What’ve you been doing all season?”

“Not hiding out in a hole for thirteen months,” Etho grumbles good-naturedly, pushing his diamonds into the center of the table.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I have been doing and look at that stat.” Tango displays the count. “Seven k, baby – read ‘em and weep.”

Grian makes an exaggerated sad face that immediately morphs into a triumphant grin. “Rookie numbers, fellas,” he crows. “Try over twelve thousand.”

Tango groans and rolls his diamonds toward Grian with a grimace. “Yeah,” he says. “Definitely not telling you how to flimflam my dungeon, you shyster.”

“Tango, I’m hurt.” Grian, entirely unbothered and very un-hurt looking, scoops the pile of diamonds into his pouch. “My stats are all ethically earned.”

“And that’s how your dungeon runs will be too.” Tango stashes his tokens and stands. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Mostly.”

“Back to your cave, Tango?” Etho doesn’t stand, but his bushy white tail wags a little in barely-contained excitement. “So, Decked Out will be open again… soon?”

“You bet your foxy good looks,” Tango says. “Or… maybe don’t. Not with those stats.”

This time he does duck the thrown napkin.

He exits through the museum, the laughter of his friends fading behind him as he steps out into the cool afternoon air. For a moment, he stretches, shaking out his elytra and clearing his head a bit of the potion particles.

Is Decked Out alive?

Tango grins, sharp teeth glinting. Of course the dungeon’s alive, who’s he kidding? And she’s hungry, too, he can feel it even from here. His friends should just be grateful he’s only ever built friendly monsters that want to devour them.

“On my way,” he mutters to himself. Or the dungeon. “And Etho’ll be coming over soon too.”

He feels the dungeon’s excitement.

“Oh…you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tango launches himself in the air and spirals over the shopping district, angling toward Decked Out and laughing so loudly the sound bounces off the buildings below.

His dungeon totally has a crush on Etho.

[yikesmary]

DRUNK GIANT — kim mingyu x reader

summary: in which you have to figure out how to transfer your drunk boyfriend to the bedroom without causing major bodily harm. and he’s not making it easy for you.

notes: this was really fun for me to write so i hope you guys like it!

join my taglist!

Your cell phone blared loudly, waking you up from your slumber. Your first instinct was to ignore it until whoever was calling you gave up, but when you looked at the digital clock that was on the nightstand and saw it was 1:03AM, you figured it was important.

You picked up your phone and the contact name “Mingyu’s Boyfriend” was display across the screen. “Hello? Wonwoo?” you greeted, your voice groggily and your eyes still adjusting.

“Hey, I’m in front of the house and me and Cheol can barely get him through the front door,” Wonwoo said.

“I thought Gyu was supposed to sleepover at yours so you didn’t have to drop him off?” You asked.

“Well, he refused to get in the car unless we said we’re going to you. And we might as well do it since— Mingyu’s in the bushes,” Wonwoo said, cutting himself off and you could hear the rustle of the bushes in the background.

“I’ll be there in a second,” you said, standing up.

“This isn’t meant to rush you or anything, but we have to drop off Hoshi and I don’t know if Seokmin will be able to dodge his kisses the drunker he gets. And we’ve had to separate Dino and Seungkwan from fighting more times than necessary,”

You opened the front door to see quite a sight; Seungcheol was trying to get Mingyu up and away from the bushes that were in front of your house and Wonwoo was a moment away from running away. "I thought you guys took three cars?" You asked, hanging up on the phone.

"Yeah, well, Jeonghan and Joshua were the drivers of the two other cars. And you probably know how that went when they saw how drunk the others were," Seungcheol sighed.

You laughed, knowing how sneaky both guys were. "How did Gyu get this drunk anyways?" you questioned, seeing both Wonwoo and Seungcheol exchange a look.

"That. What was that?" You asked, pointing at the both of them.

"Mingyu may have challenged me to a drinking game..." Seungcheol told you, and you groaned since Seungcheol had the best tolerance for alcohol.

"So you're telling me you're the reason why my boyfriend can barely stand up? And why didn't you stop him?" You directed your first question to Seungcheol and then the second to Wonwoo.

"I couldn't find them in the club! I was too busy trying to stop Seungkwan and Seokmin from dancing on top of the tables," Wonwoo defended himself.

The three of you looked at Mingyu, who had finally noticed that you were there. "Baby!" He slurred, standing up on his own. But that didn't last long as he had stumbled into your arms once he was close enough.

"Gyu, why'd you have to challenge Cheol on drinking?" you asked, trying your best to adjust him, but considering he towered over you, it was difficult to.

"Could you put him on the couch in the living room? I'll take care of the rest," you asked the only two men who were sober.

They nodded, and each men took Mingyu's arm and when you opened the door for them, they put him on the couch. They weren't delicate with it either; they just plopped him onto the couch and he nearly slipped off if it wasn't for Wonwoo pushing him back.

Wonwoo and Seungcheol said goodbye to you and once they left, you were left with a drunk Mingyu, with the mission to get him to your shared bedroom.

"Baby, c'mon, you have to help me out here," you asked, but all he did was mumble and move his head.

"Kim Mingyu, if you don't help me right now... Something will happen!"

You were tempted to leave him on the couch and leave him there, but you would've felt guilty if you did. Also, there were countless times where he took care of you when you were sick or drunk, so you felt you should do the same.

"Gyu, I'm not above bribing you, so if you stand up and walk to our room, I'll give you kisses," you negotiated.

Once you finished your sentence, Mingyu's head snapped up so fast that you swore he nearly broke his neck. "Kisses?" he whispered, but it sounded more like 'kith' with how drunk he was and how his lisp came out.

"All the kisses you want, you just have to go to our room and lay in our bed,"

In an instant, like Mingyu gained a boost, he was able to stand himself up and dart to your room, the fastest you've seen him.

You shook your head and followed him, shocked at how easy that was.

"I wonder if Wonwoo were to offer kisses, if Mingyu would've done it,"