#im not judging him for his body its just the fact that he is so much bigger than me saying that felt really triggering

[fairyrose265]

honestly people without EDs who talk about forgetting to eat or accidently skipping meals or not being hungry will be infinatly more triggering to me than people with EDs engaing in ED behaviors

[ceruleanvermillion]

hes so funny

I’m tired of people acting like Zhongli is a serious and chill guy who would never cause problems on purpose as if he isn’t one of the biggest menaces out of the Seven. He used to throw mountains at Venti for annoying him. He, the god of history, starts fights among historians for shits and giggles. He tried to gaslight the Traveler into thinking he was totally not at the Chasm guys really Aether/Lumine you must be seeing things maybe you should go see Baizhu. When Qiqi wanted “Cocogoat” milk he was like “Oh yeah sure totally let’s go look for it” knowing damn well it was a wild goose chase. He made the Traveler sing to a flower and then was like “Oh would you look at that” when a Whooperflower jumped out to maul them. I love him. He’s like a cat pushing things off the counter to see how people react. I would pay to see him interact directly with Neuvillette because I know for a fact he’d get on that man’s nerves and argue about water tasting just to feel something. Furina used freedom from godhood to take a nap and Zhongli used it to give psychic damage to anyone who talks to him longer than 5 minutes. Iconic.

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[badgers-and-cats]

hi!! how are you! i hope you’re doing well, i wanted to request a story! im imagining….

Reader being shy about exploring new things in bed and Loki slowly finding out what makes reader “tick” if you know what i mean…😉

And can you could implement some degradation kink and choking kink?, just if you want to and if you feel comfortable with that!

either way you can do whatever you want!:3

Thank you!!!🤎

Loki discovering your kinks…

18+ MDNI

female/afab reader

Hiii my lovely!! So sorry this took a while to get posted, I’ve been super low on motivation recently<3 I’m not really happy with the ending of this but wasn’t sure how to end it, sorryyy!!!💕

may write a part 2 if anyone’s interested👀

Warnings: smut below the cut. Unprotected P in V sex (wrap it before you tap it). Choking kink. Degrading kink. Degrading pet names (dirty slut etc). Praising (good girl, you did so good etc.) loki says he’s gonna breed reader… but not really a heavy breeding kink. let me know if I forgot anything.

Word count: 944

Masterlist

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. In fact, you would probably argue that you’d trust him with your life more than you trust yourself with your life. And in this, completely hypothetical, situation, it was… in a way.

How would you even bring it up? You wonder. He wouldn’t judge you for it… and it wasn’t THAT unusual of a request. Plus, there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting your boyfriends large hands to be wrapped around your neck, teasing by applying pressure - occasionally cutting off your airflow.

Even when he has you on your back - legs spread and pussy dripping, his hard cock pounding into your heat, you can’t bring yourself to ask, no matter how much you crave it. How much you need it.

He groans with every thrust of his hips, relishing the feeling of your soaking heat welcoming his cock so easily, like you were made for him. Because you are.

He knew. He knew that, deep down, there was a part of you that wanted more. That craved more. He knew that you were secretly the dirty little slut he knew you could be. The dirty slut that already makes him painfully hard, despite not coming out yet to play. He didn’t want to push you. Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He loved and cared for you too much to push you out of your comfort zone and make you feel uncomfortable and anxious.

That didn’t mean, however, that he couldn’t start to new things with you. Only subtle things - things that would allow him to feel the changes in your body - feel if your pussy pulses around his cock, gripping it desperately. He’s figured out through this technique already that you have a thing for praise. It was subtle - very subtle - but it was something. Baby steps, he thought.

What if he tried the opposite, he thought. How would you react to being called exactly what he knew you were deep down. A slut. His slut.

“That’s it, darling… taking me so well, just like the dirty little slut you are. My desperate whore…” he groans, feeling the way your body positively reacts to his words. Your back arches as you moan highly at his words, enjoying the degrading words, unexpectedly.

“You like that? You like being my slut. God I love you… love your slutty pussy, look how desperate she is for me… how she’s leaking pathetically around my cock, so desperate… so pathetic,” you let out a cry at his words, moving your hips for more friction as he chuckles. Finally, he thinks. He’s breaking down that shy exterior.

“Yes… please,” you beg. You know what you want to ask for. But the way he’s making you feel - especially now that his thumb has made its way to your already sensitive clit, you can barely think of anything else. You sounded truly pathetic as you whimpered underneath him - and you both knew it.

“Is my baby too dumb to talk? Have I fucked the slut stupid already?” He pouts as he continues his assault, admiring the way your breasts move with every movement of his hips.

You can only nod your head weakly as you look at him pout mockingly. You grab his arm - in attempt of showing him what you want, pulling it to your throat.

He knows immediately what you want - wrapping his hand round your neck, chuckling, his eyes completely full of lust.

“Oh you dirty girl… I knew you had some fantasies in that pretty little head of yours,” he stops his thrusting, now completely still and balls deep inside of you. He applies pressure to your neck, seeing the slight smile appear on your lips, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way your pussy is gripping onto his cock desperately.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roll back, or the feeling of your juices somehow soaking him even more, when he tightens his grip even more, temporarily cutting off your airflow. Feeling you struggle underneath him only makes him harder, more desperate for you. He wonders how far you’d let him go with this.

If it wasn’t fuzzy already - the lack of oxygen has definitely made your mind fuzzy now. Only being able to focus on his hand and his cock buried deep inside you. Before you pass out completely, he loosens the grip on your neck - but still keeping a firm grip as he kisses your lips harshly.

He flips you onto your hands and knees, yanking your head up by your hair, using his other hand to play with your breasts, “I hope you’re ready slut… I don’t intend on stopping until you’re leaking with my seed, gonna breed you… my perfect slut,” he groans.

And he was right. You lost count after orgasm number 5 how many you had. He was now holding you closely, after cleaning you both up.

“That’s it… my good girl, you did so well for me, dove,” he kisses the top of your head as you cuddle into him.

“I didn’t hurt you… did I?” He asks, for what feels like the 100th time.

“No, I promise my love,” you say, smiling up at him, before sleepily mumbling an “I love you,” before falling asleep in the arms of the love of your life.

[kokushibitch]

my dmmd au where mink is actually a brown guy instead of being vaguely yellow and grey. left edit is just a skintone edit while the right contains more natural looking feathers. i also gave him a stronger face

i spent a while trying to pinpoint his nation. unfortunately his design contradicted itself a bit and the slapping of random feathers and dreamcatchers everywhere pisses me awf. i wish that the artists had chosen to stick with one specific nation, and the closer i looked it actually wasn't as bad as i initially thought, but there were still some pretty egregious errors made with his design that could be avoided with CURSORY research, and for a company like n+c, big as they are with the resources to do better research, is unacceptable. to be quite honest, i almost hesitate to even make this post because i really don't want people to run with the information ill be discussing. while i am a native dude that enjoys DMMD, i know so many others that dislike mink, his design, and story because he falls into quite a few racist tropes. also, just because i can kind of glean some information about mink's culture based on his character design/home design, does not mean that it's a 100% accurate portrayal of said culture.

TL;DR: i used to think he was supposed to be ojibwe, but upon further inspection i headcanon mink as navajo/dine and afronative, my reasoning below the cut. im gonna make a later post discussing the nuances of his route and the meta racism in DMMD cause its been a loooooooong time since ive played his route. while im not navajo myself (im tsalagi) i at least have the life experience to tell the goddamn difference between nations lol. i also love the inclusion of a rainbow in his design as a fellow indigenous rainbow enjoyer

note: dine and navajo are the same thing, but im gonna use navajo because thats what more people are familiar with.

the easiest way to start would be with his most obviously unique feature, his locced hair. loccing among NA nations wasn't super common, but it did happen due to the culture & rituals around hair (no cutting unless under specific circumstances, braids/plaits end up "locced" from saltwater, etc etc). to me, however, his locced hair didn't feel like a purposeful design choice. meaning, i dont think the artist chose the locced hair because they wanted to convey something traditional about mink's culture, i think they chose it just because it looks cool, or because mink kind of just falls into the "vaguely brown" category. i'd also be okay with interpreting him as black/native, which i think im gonna do because i know that there are (or was, dead fandom) plenty of black dmmd fans that identify with him

his second most unique cultural indicator is his dreamcatcher. unfortunately, dreamcatchers have kind fallen into that "vague native design" bullshit, but they do have a tribal origin: aanishinabe. again though, due to the sheer abundance of people slapping dreamcatchers onto vaguely native characters, i cant say that this is a strong enough point for me to say definitively that he's aanishinabe. also, you dont fuckin wear dreamcatchers. end of, they're not supposed to be on your body.

THEN there are even more important indicators to me that denote exactly which nation he's from.

just judging base on the patterns used on his traditional tapestries, blankets, and runners, would denote some sort of southwestern nation. now they're not accurate designs necessarily, but i can understand and see clearly where they took inspiration from.

the peace pipe on the wall in both his home and his hideout immediately indicate navajo, a southwestern nation. the fact that he has a strong religious orientation to smoking herbs (im assuming in place of tobacco) is also very navajo to me. the pottery in his home & hideout are also very strongly southwestern, as pottery was a very common art in the southwest. the fact that he has an altar at all is unique because altars are actually not common practice and are usually only found in the southwest, which is actually a good detail point whether it was intentional or not. ignore the dreamcatchers which were, again, thrown in randomly

and of course his homeland contains mountains and more importantly, cliffs and canyons which is another southwest feature. there's also his fuckass cowboy boots which are VERY southwestern

IGNORING the dreamcatcher in his hair AGAIN, he's also flexin beaded jewelry. to me, these are just like regular beads, but you could interpret them as turquoise if you wanted. traditional turquoise jewelry is usually inlayed onto silver bands or pieces as well as strung together like so. his white belt also contains a very southwestern design.

as much as some elements of his design annoy the fuck out of me, i love, love, love, love the inclusion of the rainbow in mink's character design. the rainbow is so important to so many different nations, and mink being a religious person, it actually makes a lot of sense for him to have this sort of draw to rainbows or rainbow colored items. specifically in navajo culture, rainbows are used as Bridges between The Navajo and The Holy People, basically communicating with a higher power. a rainbow is also a symbol of the 7 sacred rituals in navajo culture, one color per ritual. here's a youtube video about it, learn something

i do have some thoughts on mink de-loccing his hair in his good ending, but i think i will have to save that for another post further down the line

anways, ive made my case. mink is navajo

[brights-place]

Hiiiii!! (๑>◡<๑) i was wondering if you would do a prince d x pop troll?(≧∀≦) thank you so much!

Prince D dating a POP! S/O

Pairings: Prince D X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Prince D is so cool man! plus the fact he is voiced by Anderson Paak is so cool! most of the characters are voiced by amazing artists and I love it so much! so here is some headcannons (๑-﹏-๑)

- You met Prince D with Cooper since you saw him escaping and told him you would come along since he was your best friend and you wanted to take care of him cause you also knew he was... diffrent - You would always tug Cooper away from any trouble but when you both passed out due to the dehydration well more like you on the brink of passing out and cooper being very dehydrated you looked up noticing a space ship that hovered above both of you - You woke up earlier then cooper eyes squinting when looking up seeing 3 trolls glancing at eachother and staring at cooper is body with you eyes wide seeing the trolls look exactly like cooper with long necks and some are quadrupeds instead of bipeds like all other Trolls their hair as wool-like dreads. Instead, their bodies are covered in Troll hair or fur like you and other pop trolls but that didn't make you scream loudly in shock making cooper open his eyes and looked up as you stood infront of cooper protectively as cooper looked at you and the three trolls like him - Your eyes met with a male who looked EXACTLY like Cooper but he had a more chilled, laid-back face yet his eyes were staring at yours. - The male has gold tinsel-like fur on his neck. He has shorter and thicker dreadlocks than Cooper, which appear to have rings of gold on them and also wears an earring on his left ear, which matches the one worn by the older looking male troll beside him.

- Your eyes shifted back to coopers who stood out beside you as you whispered to cooper to be careful - Yes you were a pop troll but you were actually cautious! unlike poppy your lovely queen well you loved poppy but that girl could NOT be cautious enough unless its a life or death situation. - You stood beside cooper the whole time who heard his whole past and how they were looking for him the whole time while your jaw dropped eyes wide when glancing at cooper before your hands went towards your hug time bracelet fiddling with it to calm your anxiety - "So... from what Im getting is that cooper is a whole diff genre. Okay cool cool my bestfriend is a funk troll! I need to breathe before I pass out" you muttered to yourself as cooper walked over to you and spoke "You good?" "Cooper I'm glad you found your family but im shocked how fine they are" you muttered sweat dropping as cooper laughed - His parents and brother found it hilarious before Prince D walked over to you "Thanks dude... you ain't to bad yourself" he said playfully nudging you making you laugh - As you two conversed and enjoyed hearing the story more about funk troll you mainly focused on Prince D who is normally amiable and chill. - You notice He is welcoming to other Trolls but is reluctant to trust them unless he gets to know them, especially the Pop Trolls which was well you he was kind of wary but smiled. - You seemed to smile when you noticed he considers himself to be Hip hop rather than just Funk, and accepted Cooper considering himself both Pop and Funk after Cooper said that one doesn't have to be just one thing. - He's also an encouraging guy, as he is the first to invigorate Cooper to make music, supporting him by making his own tunes as well. - You asked to hear some samples of funk and hiphop which they gladly showed you which you enjoyed and every now and then doing small dancing knowing since you were in a new environment it would be hard to not be judged for... your music and dancing - But when you watch funk trolls dancing it was adapted to fit with their body type which involved a lot of footwork! with quadrupedal ones taking advantage of having four feet over most Trolls' two. They also move their neck and head a lot in conjunction with this, and bend or swing it to the beat, which is another physical trait other Troll Tribes don't have. - You loved how amazing funk was but you enjoyed pop more but you knew the history of what pop trolls had done so you didn't bother at all - But when Queen essence and King Quincy asked for you and cooper to show some Pop music. You noticed how cooper cheered but how prince D nodded his head smiling as you glanced towards cooper who turned to you quickly as you spoke "I know that look- No! No Cooper don't you dare- YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVEEEE!" You screamed trying to runaway as Cooper chased you around shouting "YOU CANNOT RUNNN!"

- And there you stood infront of the three who sat down as Cooper held you up and placed you down as you were red in embarrassment but couldn't help but turn even redder when hearing Prince D is laugh - You sighed before glancing at cooper who started making a beat with his foot which you started to join in adding your fingers snapping together - Soon you started having a smile stretch on your face as you satretd to sing with Cooper you both dancing and tewirling as you started to have fun while singing as you cheered when you finished singing as you threw glitter in the air out of nowhere before pausing when realizing you threw it and panicked apologizing to them ebfore noticing prince D had some glitter on his face - You panicked apologizing to them and ran over to wipe off the glitter from prince d is face unaware you were cupping his and were too close King Quincy and Queen Essence glanced at each other with pursed lips as Cooper laughed at your panicked state - You two realized you were close making you both flush as you both apologized quickly to each other you now standing beside cooper glancing up to cooper who giggled at your face "Your red like red velvet cupcakes!" "You literally poop out red velvet cupcakes" you muttered rolling your eyes chuckling - When Poppy and Branch came up the space ship you were standing beside Prince D and Cooper before poppy screamed your nickname loudly and tackled you to the floor as you hugged her back tightly and fist bumping branch - You were staring at Prince D and cooper laughing making you giggle slightly at the two be - When poppy started to talk about uniting all trolls together you glanced over to Prince D who shook his head letting out a sigh as you placed a hand on his back(?) to comfort him - When they were sent off you made sure to stay beside cooper you wanted to help your best friend and his family - You soon joined Prince D on his hover DJ set before the lights were cut out - After the whole world tour situation it was silent and you looked to the floor with no colour as you slowly raised a hand clutching your heart as you turned to Cooper and Prince D who were making music with you soon joining in making Cooper smile more and Prince D glance towards you two - You two smiling towards eachother adding more beats with all the other trolls joining in - You and Prince D were dancing together vibing with the music smiling as you glanced towards Prince D who was singing with his mother before singing with you making you laugh - You and Prince D soon gotten closer after awhile - when you two hangout you lay against him when your both just sitting down playing with his hair out of boredom and sometimes adding some colorful beads beside the golden rings on his dreads - You like hearing the random beats he makes or snippets of some songs of hiphop and enjoy staring at him - After awhile you two were developing feelings for eachother which was very hard for Cooper to deal with cause well he tried so hard not to burst out the secret of you two liking eachother even though it was very difficult for him cause he finds it confusing how oblivious you were - You would scrapbook beside him if he is busy and would show off your works to him. He enjoys how you explain how your dya went with your scrapbook - If he finds any cool stickers that you would like he would get them and hand them to you for your next scrapbook which surprisingly enough was a scrapbook of you two hanging out with each other and sometimes cuddling

- Prince D enjoys your small blush and cute noises when he stares at you with a soft smile - You end up visiting eachother alot and when you went to visit cooper he asked you out on date as you stared at him turning around screaming and turning back to him nodding "I would like that!" "Cool its a date" - You started shaking cooper when he was mid-conversation with his mother as you squealed as Queen Essence giggled "He finally asked?" - You have a good connection with the Funk troll royal family -  It's known pop Troll is extremely happy, strives happiness and seeks fun above all things which is so like you but its also true that they are prone to absolute panic when things go wrong, often overreacting in a comical way and that what was going on right now you panicking for the fact that you messed up playing an song or you messing up a dance move - The Pop Trolls have a holiday for every day of the year, meaning they are constantly having one party or another. So you would always invite him to ones that you know he'd enjoy! - When you started to get too close almost seeing around each other with you smiling around him and clinging to his side as you blabbered away as he listened nodding his head - when someone gets the Cool laid back prince D jealous you giggle because he likes to look away with a slight blush with a pout on his lip if you point out - You love to make up some little dances that follow along to Prince D's beats just to get him to snort-laugh and smile at your shenanigans. - You and Darnell went on dates pretty often you already hung out constantly but you two had actual dates 2-3 times a week! - even if your diffrent trolls he cares for you ALOT your his partner after all Pop, Rock, Country, etc etc! he doesn't care he loves you for you

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[n0vaisnthere]

Hello! Rlly loved your Furina fic!

Could you do an apocalypse, fanfic childe? With Childe's little brother just trying to survive in the apocalypse!

Eto po lubvi

Modern! Childe x GN! reader

Oneshots

Worries about Teucer all the time.

He worries that the entire apocalypse has ruined his chances at just being a kid.

He tries his best to protect him from the harsh realities of the word now.

He has no way to get in contact with his family, so as far as he knows, Teucer is the only real family he has right now.

So he doesn't want to lose him.

"I'm worried about him.." Childe sighed, watching as the fired crackled in the fireplace..

You've been stuck inside a small home in the middle of a big city for almost three months now. It was horde after horde, anytime you wanted to move to a diffrent city, another horde came. At this point, you guys were running low on supplies.

"Why? He looks fine to me.." You said, looking down at the sleeping Teucer who had fallen asleep a couple hours ago. It was always nice to see he had gotten sleep whenever you two couldn't.

"I mean.. I dont know— just the fact he can't really be a kid anymore.." Childe sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He did his best not to wake up Teucer, who had fallen asleep on his other shoulder.

You gave him a small smile, your hand resting over his own, trying to give him some form of comfort.

"Im sure things will go back to how they used to be soon.." You knew it was just empty promises. He knew that, too. But wishful thinking was better than giving up.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, basking in eachothers presence for a bit.

—★°•

Protective of you as well

Especially when you both go out scavenging in old abandoned stores

Tries to keep you close at all times

Not only were there the dangers of zombies, but there were also the dangers of other survivors

Hes seen first hand the lengths they'd go to surivive out here.

You were walking through the deep freezer. It was slightly ajar, but you hoped there was something still edible in here. It smelt rancid inside the small room. And from the looks of it, everything was rotted already. You sighed, about to leave the room when your heart dropped to your toes. There was a zombie right at the door— skin a freekish green, jaw streatched out abnormally wide. Your hand fumbled, trying to grab your pocket knife when a shot rang out. Your ears were ringing for a moment before you regained your senses. A familiar ginger standing infront of you.

"Are you alright?" He said, his anxious eyes flicking over your body, looking for any injury.

"Ajax.. relax, im okay." You sent him a small smile, resting your hands on his shoulders, trying to sooth his anxiety.

He quickly pulled you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head protectivly.

"You have to stop running off like that.." he murmured.. you could hear his heartbeat, how his heat was racing.

—★°•

Tries his best to cook

Of course, supplies is limited

So it isn't the best food..

Look, he tries, that's all that matters.

"Tah-dah! My famous beef jerky and eggs!" Childe grinned, smiling at you and Teucer. Placing two plates infront of you both.

It looked.. diffrent. Small peices of dried beef jerky sprinkled on top of eggs that looked rubbery. Dont judge a book by its cover, I guess..

"It smells delicious, Childe!" You sent him a small smile. Resisting the urge to gag at the smell. Teucer looked at his plate with a slight confusion, poking at the eggs with his fork.

"Is this.. good?" Teucer asked, looking up a Childe with confusion. His fork was barely stabbing through the eggs because of how thick they were.

"Be greatful, you know a lot of people dont have— Hey! Dont dump it behind the couch!" Childe groaned, watching as Teucer tried to sneakily get rid of the food from his plate.

"Whoops!"

—★ MASTERLIST— here

[messycunt]

Hey there! I really love your twst hucow au, and I get really excited when I see you've posted something new about it!

Im into agriculture and livestock showing/judging, and I have a bit of info about it that I think would be fun to kinda add to the au!

Did you know that there is a whole division for shows that center around breeding cows? Like some are brought out pregnant, or some even with their babies to be evaluated on how well their pregnancy and kids turn out. In real life it's to judge which one will produce the best potential offspring in the future, so I thought I might drop that knowledge here lol. Who knows, maybe handler! Or Hucow! Reader might have a few ribbons of their own?

I hope you have a good day!

I didn't know that actually! but this is giving me some ideas hmmm

cw: hybrids(hucows), lactation, breeding kink, pregnancy kink if you squint, exhibitionism ig

characters: Crowley, Malleus, Ace and Deuce 

ok follow my thoughts here right 

Seasoned breeding cow reader who has a few blue ribbons under her belt. She's considered one of the best in show overall. 

Being the highest grade cow on the farm there's no one better fit than you to breed with Malleus; the highest grade bull. Not even gonna dance around it, the equipment he's working with is hefty enough to kill you if he's not careful, but he is and it's ok your perfectly built to handle him. And that's not to mention his otherworldly stamina. Oh you poor thing you didn't really think his seed finally taking meant that you were spared from your daily rendezvous did you?

Crowley himself is the one to present you in any shows you attend, well when he has the time to. He's so proud of you, you know, and he's sure to remind you of that fact while rocking himself into you from behind and his hands over your full tummy. Washing over your face with wet kisses-

anyways

You're used to it, standing on a high up platform, put up for show in front of hundreds of strangers under unbearably hot spot lights. Crowley is sure to do a good job at showing you off to the judges, gropping at your sore leaking breasts and even dipping a finger or two deep inside of your pussy in an attempt to show off uh, something. Its embarrassing but you do bear it, and with a complacent grin on your face no less!

it's become standard for Ace and Deuce to be involved in one way or another, of their own instance of course. They play it off like they just want to be as helpful as they physically can it's only right! the real reason, though, is cus they know your milk must taste best when your body is preparing for a calf. Why else would it be in such high demand when you're with calf???

[xcvlil]

Not yet. Choso x reader Angst

i hope all my little choso lovers love this!!!

TW: Angst, a little bit of gore, death implied, just sadness…i apologize (not really)

muahahhagaga

You stood in the empty train station of Shibuya, holding your side tightly. You ability wasn’t working in time to help patch up the little bit of skin that was holding your insides. You kept thinking, Was this what death felt like?

Infront of you stood a tall pale man, he had a neutral look on his face as he stared at you with no remorse. You couldn’t hold in your need to fall any longer so you collapsed to the ground. Thats when you heard a voice.

“You sorcerers just dont give up do you…”.

You connected the voice to the man who was standing infront of you. As he slowly inched forward you smiled a bit at his comment. “I guess not huh..” You said, ending the sentence in a chuckle. You kept having these flashes of memories. Like your life was flashing before your eyes. You didn’t want to die yet.

“Tell me. Whats your name?” The man asked, crouching down in front of you. His presence felt like he himself was hurt, but he had no opened wounds as far as you could tell.

“F/n L/n…” You said weakly. You didn’t even have the strength to look up at the man infront of you. You didn’t even know all the features of his face. All you knew was, You didn’t want to die yet.

The man lifted your chin, staring at your hurt features. He then pushed your head aside and sighed. ”You aren’t the woman im looking for..” He said, sounding awfully disappointed.

You couldn’t pull out the strength to ask him who he was looking for, but he was leaving. Fear began to build up inside you and your breathing became quick. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want to die yet.

Before you knew it you spatted out, “Wait…Please don’t go…”. The man turned around and raised an eyebrow. He was confused.

“Why shouldn’t i.”

“Because…I dont want to die alone…” You said with a trembling voice. You felt embarrassed and unsure of yourself. Why were you asking a curse to stay by your side. Was it because you were that in need of comfort and company?

Either way, when you looked over the man was sitting next to you. You were in shock, either from the blood loss or from the fact that a curse listened to you.

You felt a painful sensation. A sensation of loss and hurt. You couldn’t tell where it was coming from. You narrowed it down to the man beside you. “You lost someone special to you didn’t you.” You asked the boy, gently looking up.

The man was taken aback by your comment, but yet he still replied “Yes. I lost my brothers.” He said softly. If you judged based off his expressions, you would probably think he didn’t care. But you could feel his emotions. The anger. The sorrow. The need for revenge.

You gave him a gentle pat on the back, “Im sorry for your loss.” You said, you felt remorse for the man.

“Why are you being nice to me, im a curse, what makes you think i need your pity?” He blurted out. The question caught you so off guard that you stumbled from your knees onto your bottom. Why were you treating him nicely? Was it the fact that he could end your life at any moment? No it wasn’t that… It was…

“You don’t seem like a curse… Curses don’t feel sorrow and sadness and empathy.” You said softly. The man slowly looked over at you with a mixture of joy and confusion. He seemed happy to not be called a curse but why was he believing you.

“Oh…” He said quietly. You began to lean backwards a little, your body was slowly giving up on you. He leaned over and helped you slowly lay down.

“I’m not ready to die yet…” you said softly, catching the mans attention.

“Then don’t.” He said sternly.

“I am human, i have bo control on whether its my time or not..”

He seemed bewildered by this new realization. All the other sorcerers could heal themselves…or thats what he thought.

“L/n…Why did you want to become a sorcerer if you didn’t want to die…”

“To help those who couldn’t help themselves..” You said with a slow breath. Your chest was rising and falling heavily. You reached out for the mans hand and he allowed you to take it.

“Thank you…For being here… Stranger..” Your body was fading away. A tear fell from your eye as you felt yourself slipping into the darkness.

“Choso…My name is Choso..”

“Well then choso…I’ll tell your brothers you love them…” you managed to spit out that last sentence before completely going lino and slipping away.

You didn’t want to die yet, but you needed to.

[hisaame]

hi hi! Could you do a Scaramouche x fem!reader with angst to comfort? Specifically with reader having issues on how they view their body?? ((Like their insecure)) preferably modern au plss

first time writing on request yippie!! hii and ty, i hope this is what you've asked for!! <3 also im stillll new to writing and stuff, so im praying im good for now!

╰』ˋˋ"What do you mean you aren't pretty?" «

ˎˋ╰⪼Scaramouche x fem!reader ˎˋ

[angst with comfort] — modern au,,,

『warnings: body negativity, cursing, body touch, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader being like half naked (NO SPICY STUFF THO), idk what else to add im not good at warnings.... 』

— Scaramouche simply couldnt understand.

How could you, a pretty girl with the body of a goddess, possibly think you look less than he thinks?

It was in the afternoon, you had invited Scaramouche to come over to your dorm, since it was the weekends and you had no subject to study, you finished two exams last week. So you wanted to have a nice day off, where your lover would be there.

But before that you decided to take a shower, u have already been outside with your friends Hu Tao and Yanfei, spending time with them since they were from another school.

You hated your bathroom. Why? Because the mirror there was huge.

Slowly taking off your clothes, its almost impossible to ignore your reflection. Its there no matter where you turn—seriously, its like they made the dorms' bathrooms like this on purpose, just to make you feel even worse about yourself as if before wasnt already enough.

You cringe at yourself once you took off your clothes. You should hurry up in the shower—but something made you stay in front of the mirror, criticizing yourself with your own thoughts. Turning a bit to the side to look at other various parts of your body, finding nothing decent or enough for yourself. You sighed, you should be positive right now, school isnt in the way and you should be relaxing.

With a glare at your own reflection, before getting into the shower quickly, turning on some warm water. Showers should be relaxing, but as you washed your body, using soap, making there be various white bubbles on your skin, they smell quite nice, and are certainly fun to play with.

But the feeling of your own hands on your body distracted you. The way you felt under your own touch, it somewhat... Disgusts you.

Finally—once you were done with showering, taking a towel and wrapping it around your body, shivering as the cool air hit against your wet skin. You dried off your hair, brushed it out, trying not to stare at the mirror too much. Maybe you're just too judgemental. Maybe you're not as bad as you think?

After you were done with your hair—you must not have noticed, but there was a sudden knock at your bathroom door. Then it opened up to reveal Scaramouche. Well, he peeked through it first to check was he invading any privacy.

"Damn, this was the last place i was gonna check. I came here like five minutes ago." Scaramouche sighed in relief to seeing you, not at all bothered by the fact you're only in a towel. He pressed a kiss to your lips as a greeting, ruffling your half dry hair.

Though, you looked uncomfortable. Not with the fact your lover had come into the bathroom while you were in just a towel, but the fact your body was pretty exposed to him, and you thought, what id he judged you? Maybe not out loud, but what if he was thinking about it?

Noticing your discomfort, Scaramouches eyes widened for a split second at his realization, then spoke up, "i can leave if you want—to wait for u to get changed." , he gave you a half smile. But you told him its alright. Why? You wanna just push him away.

At your answer, he smiled softly, nodding. Maybe you just needed him here, after a hard week. What he thought was different than what you thought. Seeing this as a nice opportunity, he went behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder as he gave you a goofy, lazy smirk, looking at the mirror where you two can be seen. Maybe you should've kicked him out...

"You always look so pretty after showering—like all clean, pretty, and u smell nice." Scaramouche mumbled, as if shy to admit. "wait i said pretty twice. Replace one of those words with 'gorgeous' then." You couldn't tell if he was flirting with you or genuinely fucked up with his words.

But the way you looked at him with almost surprise at what he said, his eyebrow raised as his expression changed.

"Why do you look like i fucking said i discovered the moon and flew to mars? Dont you know youre pretty?" He said, his usual personality showing. He doesnt exactly like being all mushy, but for you, he's a sucker. So he's nicer...

Maybe it was finally time to admit it. He was your lover anyway, and you trusted him. You nodded slowly, then immediately looked away, regretting what you just did. That... Shocked Scaramouche! You, not pretty? Were you high!?

".. Huh? Did someone tell you you're not pretty? Ill fuck them up. Who was it?" He narrowed his eyes, his embrace around your waist tightening. His protective side definitely was showing. But once he didnt get a reply, seeing the way you frowned and refuses to look at the mirror, he realized the situation.

"... [y/n]? Dont tell me you tell yourself that..." Scaramouche sighed. Figuring you werent comfortable with the mirror, he turned you around, so you can face him again. You even thought he was prettier than you will ever be. Well, he's here to prove you're better than you think!

"[y/n]. I know i dont say this a lot, but you're gorgeous to me. God, these words sound so cliche.. But its true. You're the most gorgeous, pretty, beautiful—fuck, what else—cute, adorable girl i have ever met. Okay?" Scaramouche stared into your eyes. He definitely wasnt the best at comfort, but he wants to try his best—for you.

Then he softly smiled at you. "Hey, lets get you dressed up and we can talk about how magnificent you really are?", he kissed your nose, hos face flushing immediately right after as he lead you out of the bathroom, talking to you along the way.

"You may have your flaws and all that, but thats what makes you, you. You know? I like your flaws." Scaramouche admitted, blushing like an idiot when he looked away once he told you what he thought.

Soon enough, you were dressed, dragged to bed by Scaramouche who quite literally forced you to be the little spoon this time. You could barely hear the tv over him talking about how pretty he thinks you are.

Yeah, if anyone even dared to even joke about you being 'ugly', he's getting suspended because of reasons you know what happens.

♡

[juyeonszn]

CLOSE TO ME, I’M CLOSE TO YOU

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.46k

GENRES literally just fluff

WARNINGS no 18+ warning this time 🙀, despite it being KIND OF suggestive at one point, it really isn’t anything that constitutes a warning, brother’s best friend trope, (fr)enemies to lovers trope, good ol’ fashioned sneaking around, mild swearing, tbh this is really cute and like i wanna throw up bc when is it my turn </3

SUMMARY despite keeping your relationship restricted to the confines of these four walls, you would always be his.

MORE LOLLL IM INSANE I KNOW U CAN ALL THROW TOMATOES AT ME 😍😍🙏i literally wrote this in 2 hours call me william shakespeare :P um anyway here u go anon! here’s your request from my 100 followers event <3 prompts used are: 1, 15 🙌

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

“What’s the purpose of that top if it barely covers anything?”

You glance over at Hyunjae with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “First of all, who the hell are you to judge what I’m wearing? Second of all, why are you looking?”

“Okay, gross, I would never look at you like that. You’re a child.” He gags, his lips curling downward into a grimace. You roll your eyes.

“And you’re old. Find a new comeback, Jaehyun.”

���Here they go again. And with the government name, too, that’s crazy.” Juyeon snorts from his spot on the floor. Eric bursts into an unnecessary amount of laughter, slapping his shoulder aggressively. The older male winces, muttering a small ‘Ow’.

Sangyeon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and pausing the movie that you were currently watching. He deadpans at the two of you. “Do I really have to play referee right now? In the middle of movie night?”

You both send puppy dog eyes and big smiles his way, because no matter how fun it was going at each other’s throats, it was never worth the scolding from your older brother. Sometimes you feared his wrath more than your own parents, and that’s considering the fact that you were a grown adult. He gives you a warning look before resuming the film.

The funny thing about being four years younger than your brother was the way you shared a friend group. Upon entering university, you befriended two rambunctious boys who happened to be on the baseball team with Sangyeon. Thankfully, you’d been close your whole life, so it wasn’t too big a deal when you all started hanging out. It was kind of convenient since you lived in the same house.

As the movie continues, you glance over at Hyunjae, whose chin is resting on his palm. God, his stupid face pissed you off so easily. Just looking at it riled you up unprovoked. He was lucky he was best friends with your brother (and also all of your friends), or else you might’ve killed him at this point. To be completely honest, there were a couple times you almost did.

Towards the end of the night, everyone started settling down and getting ready to go to bed. A couple of the guys usually slept in the living room, there were a couple in the guest room, and then whoever else was left crashed in your brother’s room with a futon or air mattress. Being the only girl had its special perks— i.e., you got to have your bedroom all to yourself.

It’s about an hour and a half after you’ve parted ways with the boys that you hear the familiar creak of your door opening. A warm body sneaks under the covers behind you, wrapping their arms around your torso and pressing their lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Took you long enough, Lee Jaehyun,” you murmur, side eyeing him while you shut your phone off and place it on your nightstand. “I almost fell asleep.”

“Stop calling me that,” he pouts, groaning into the crook of your neck when you giggle at his childish behavior. “You sound like my mom getting mad at me when I was a kid.”

Okay; silly story time. Hyunjae and yourself truly started off hating each other. He was a pretentious know-it-all and he despised being wrong. He always had to get the last word and he argued with you like his life depended on it. To you, he was your older brother’s insufferable best friend and you wanted nothing more than to strangle the living daylights out of him.

His first impression of you wasn’t that much different. He thought you were an over-confident spoiled brat who had zero filter. You enjoyed picking fights with him just because you knew it irritated him like nothing else. To him, you were his best friend’s annoying younger sister and he wanted to put a muzzle on you so he could shut you up for once.

The pair of you were like fire and gasoline, a deadly combination that the universe made a mistake putting together. Your friends were amused by your constant bickering, but it drove your brother insane.

One day, in an attempt to get you to bond, Sangyeon had sent Hyunjae to pick you up from a friend’s apartment after working on a project. The entire car ride was filled with insults left and right, neither of you paying attention to the angry grey cloud in the sky above you. Before you knew it, it was pouring down so hard that Hyunjae could hardly see through the windshield.

He pulled over into an empty lot to wait it out, but even that storm wasn’t enough to quell the rage warring in both of you. Your fight started back up, this time more heated than the previous.

You liked to think you weren’t a woman of many flaws. However, you proved yourself incorrect this go around. Your single flaw was your inability to bite your tongue and keep your thoughts to yourself. So, when Hyunjae told you to ‘Shut the Fuck Up’, your response wasn’t what it should’ve been.

Instead you said; “Make me.”

And well, make you he did.

He kissed you with such force, the back of your head almost collided with the car window. You pulled away from each other to process exactly what had just transpired, realizing that all this detestation, all this animosity and rival shit had just been poorly disguised lust. All that tension was because you loathed the other and wanted them to die a slow painful death, it was because you wanted to go at it like jackrabbits.

After another few minutes of making out and waiting for the rain to subside, you both noticed that it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Hyunjae licked his lips and traced your own with the tip of his finger, grinning. “We won’t be missed for a couple hours, we should take advantage of that.”

In your head, that was a completely logical conclusion that you quickly agreed with. And so, that was the beginning of your secret relationship with Lee Hyunjae, your brother’s best friend and your supposed enemy.

“You and your bed are so much more comfy than the pull out in your living room. I kinda feel bad for Juyeon and Changmin.” He rubs circles into your waist with his thumb, wrapping his arms tighter around your middle.

“Hey, I’m not opposed to kicking you out and making you sleep in a sleeping bag like Sunwoo and Eric.” You tsk, turning in his embrace to face him.

He gasps in feign offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug, sighing dramatically. “Apparently, I’m a child and you would never look at me a certain way.”

“I was just joking, baby,” he laughs and good God, you’re down bad if just the sound of his laugh has butterflies erupting in your stomach. “I gotta make sure everyone thinks I still find you aggravating. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, you know.”

You bat your eyelashes at him exaggeratedly. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Hyunjae smiles at you, differently than all the others he’s shown you before. It’s tender, gentler than what you’re used to from the brunette. His eyes are a softer shade of brown, mocha colored irises that stare at you with so much admiration that even the darkness of your room couldn’t overshadow. The moonlight peeking in from your curtains illuminates his features perfectly.

“I know I don’t tell you that often, but you mean a lot to me, Y/N,” he suddenly confesses. “Sneaking around and not being able to show the world that you’re mine is so fucking difficult, but if you’re not ready, then I’m okay with it. I want you to be happy when you’re with me, all the time. You make it all worth it.”

“Hyunjae…” Your bottom lip juts out, your heart swelling with so many emotions. His eyes flicker down to your mouth and he closes the gap between you, leaving a sweet kiss that manages to knock out all the air from your lungs.

He peppers kisses to your cheeks, nose, and the crown of your head until your breathing has evened and you’ve fallen asleep. His favorite part of sleeping over was getting to see this, you laying in his arms peacefully. It served as a reminder for him that despite keeping your relationship restricted to the confines of these four walls, you would always be his. He whispers one last thing to you before calling it a night himself, though he’s sure your sleep is too deep to register it.

“I love you.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[rzyraffek]

Platonic yandere yautja x human child reader

Aww dad yautja😊 I didn't write for yautjas in months!! Hopefully u enjoy it!! Also i used they/them for kid. No tw, only cuteness and wholesome dad figure yautja👹 request open

Dad yautja with human kid

Bro is confused ??? Tf??? Why is there a child here??

He either found them abandoned in middle of nowhere or accidentally killed their perents, by 'accidentaly' i mean ofc he wanted to kill them he just didn't know there was a child nearby and now he feels bad

Kinda finds human pups ugly😭 why are you so smol and loud wtf

Dad!yautja after he kinda adopts y/n he gets too overprotective! Like dude won't leave their side at all, especially when you guys are outside; dude will pick them up and just carry around.

Can't cook to save his life, he kinda set kitchen on fire. And humans cant eat raw meat, so now you are on fruit diet for now (and veggies)

Had this parental instinct to teach them everything, how to shoot, find food, basic self-defence, overall taking good care of themselfs. But he kinda likes that he has to provide for them, it gives him control yknow

When he carries them around everywhere! He acually lets them sit on his shoulders or just hang on his neck😓😍

Cant say no to those cute big eyes! Yes he will let them 'decorate' his armor (with glitter and stickers) and he will let them paint his nails and he will lisen to them gossip about their friends.

If his kid is a little artist and walks up to him and says "papa i drew you!" He does not care that he looks like a lizard nor that they didn't color it perfectly. Dude is purring, picking y/n up and he carries this drawing in pocket everywhere

Other yautjas say that he spoils them, but he disagrees! Your a HUMAN baby, i mean yeah your basically one of yautjas now but!!! Your tiny! And your skin is so squishy!!!

He had to learn how to comb their hair cuz at some point y/n simply refused to cut it (me too lil guy) and he respects them so much he won't just do something against them

Kinda wishes he could understand human body language more

Also about body language i can imagine kid just kinda mimicing yatuja body language and habits. Like dad!yatuja will say "child please go to bed its late" the kid will just angry respond with a hiss👹 "hsssss👽🦎" "?????" If yaujtas had eyebrows, he would rise them

If y/n is a girl, and she has her first period? Dude panics! HUHH WHAT BLOOD??? FROM WHERE!?? UHHHH????

Dude tries to be a perfect father figure, he tries to have similar intrests with his kid so they can connect more, but if y/n is totally not into hunting, collecting, nature themed stuff, Yautja is more than happy to catch up with whatever teens are into this days, but he will judge the hell out of tv shows (if they watch any)

I kinda forgot it suppose to be yandere so it turned out to be just wholesome im so sorry

Understands that kid needs privacy but he will just go invisible mode and lurk in shadows! Like what if somone attacks you??? Or worse! What if you meet some humans that he doenst like??? What if they will tell y/n all lies about what 'bad war crimes' he commited and what 'murderous' his kind is!! Those are lies pls dont lisen to humans

No boy/girlfriends!!! Nuh uh!! Your his little baby you cant go doing all those... things... with some human. ugh! this person probably can't even hunt for you!! Or give you nice treasures!! Or build a pretty nest!! Why would you like them my child?? Look at all those trophies i gathered for all those years! You should stay here!

He loves the fact that he lives in some wild ass jungle and y/n cant leave him due to all those dangers around, plus he loves that y/n will always stay tiny(in comparison obviously) and weak so be basically needs to provide for them! Right???

I used x reader tags ONLY to reach bigger audience

[fairybloodsucker]

Good Boy

Smut

Authors note: please dont judge my writing or autocorrect, i have dyslexia and english is my second language so if there is errors, i apologise im not really the best at writing, but im trying to get better, enjoy <3

April 1969

You have been with Elvis for the past 4 years so the two of you are warm and liked to joke and tease each other, but this time, without you knowing, Elvis wanted to tease you extra this time as a surprise for you, y’all were going to a comedian show for his Memphis mafia, but that didn’t stop his little surprise for you. You and Elvis had a room together so you and Elvis were changing into more proper outfits and getting ready together. you were in the shower, washing you hair with shampoo, massaging it in your long silky hair, till it got foamy, then washing it off, to apply conditioner and leave it in your hair while washing your body. In the meantime, Elvis carefully entered the bathroom and swapped your panties with a vibrating panties, identical to the once you picked to wear so you couldn’t tell if it was swapped. Elvis walked quietly out of the bathroom to find a belt to match his outfit. You were washing off the body soap from your wet body, and then your conditioner, you got a towel, got out of the shower to dry off, and then got your panties on first. You didn’t feel anything weird with it. Got your bra on, and finally your clothes, and got started on your hair first then your makeup.

3 hour later, the two of you and the Memphis mafia was at your places. Elvis looked at you with a small smile, you looked back at him, curious on why he smiled like that.

¨Do I got anything on my face?¨ you said,

¨No baby, you don’t, I just adore lookin at ya¨

You rolled your eyes in a playful matter until you felt something vibrating in your panties which got you to gasp, you look at Elvis, now smirking.

When you were about you ask Elvis about it, the show started.

The vibrant feeling not leaving, you grabbed the arm rester on the chair you were sitting on, you leaned close to Elvis.

¨Did you do anything??¨ you whispered

¨Do what?¨ he whispered back

You felt the vibrant motion stop. You saw his hand in his pocket.

¨Don’t act like you don’t know, E, im serious¨

¨But I don’t, honey¨ he replied trying to act confused but he had his grin tattoing his face which made you know he did in fact did do something.

Elvis took a glass and drank it. You watched him.

¨I know you swapped my panties, cuz these are vibrating¨ while you said this, you felt your panties start to vibrate. That’s it, you thought, you Took his hand and Took him out of the room, without anyone noticing because the lights were out.

You took Elvis into the closest room, opened the door and you took Elvis in first then yourself, and closed the door.

¨You think you can tease me like that, E?¨ you said, looking straight up at him.

¨Yes baby, I can¨ he said, not worried.

¨Well you gotta join the game you just made, and boy its gonna be a big tease for you¨you had a lot in mind.

¨Show me baby¨

You smirked, took him towards the wall, he made a small whine, you locked your eyes on him while you took one hand down his body. His eyes were locked into yours. You came to his belt and unbuttoned it, still eyes locked together. You traced your hand down his pants feeling him already hardening. He liked it. He loved it. You knew Elvis loved being dominanted by you.

You took your hands up from his pants and took a grip of his pants and took his pants down. Elvis was now looking down at what you were doing.

¨Look at me.¨ voice strict and he listened, he looked back at your eyes.

¨Now what do you say?¨his cock bounced up when his pants were fully down.

¨Sorry mommy ..¨ he muttered.

¨Mommy didn’t hear her boy.¨still strict with your tone.

¨Your boy is very sorry he looked down¨

You wrapped your hand around his hard length.

¨Oh you should be, you should be very sorry¨

He nodded

¨Say it¨

¨Im very sorry mommy¨

¨That’s a good boy¨ you started stroking his length, you looked down at his length, taking his foreskin back so your could see his pink swollen tip, it was moist with precum. You kept stroking him, speeding up the pace.

¨is my boy turned on by me, eh¨ you looked back up at him, with a smirk, while having butterflies in your stomach by the sight of him being hard for you, just you, only you.

He nodded ¨Yes mommy, just for you¨ he replied, his voice a little shaky.

¨Good boy, that’s a good boy¨ you looked back down at his cock, speeding up the stroking speed.

¨Gonna …¨ he moaned softly

¨Hold it!¨

¨I… I.. I.. can’t…¨

You stopped the stroking.

¨My boy aint gonna cum until mommy says he’s gonna cum, you hear me?¨ you were harsh on him.

He nodded.

¨Say it big boy!¨

¨Im gonna cum when mommy says I can¨ he said, listening to you

¨Good boy¨you smirked. You wrapped your hand around his length again, he twitched a bit by your touch because his cock was sensitive. You smiled sinnely. You stroked him fast, super fast. He felt his ecstasy warming up in his stomach. By the speed you were stroking him, his ecstasy ran down towards his crotch.

You hear him start to moan louder, almost whimpering in pleasure. His cock was twitching in your hand, and before he could cum, you stopped. Elvis was breathing heavily.

¨W..why.. why stop?..¨ it almost sounded like he has just cum.

¨Don’t stop..¨

¨Did I tell you to cum, hm?¨ you smirked, knowing the answer, which Elvis did to.

¨No..¨

¨Beg¨

¨Beg?¨

¨You wanna cum right, sugar cup?¨

¨Yes mommy, yes

¨Then beg¨ you wanted to see Elvis beg to cum so, Fucking. Bad.

¨Do it¨ you added.

¨Mommy, please let me cum, I.. I need to, you know I need to.. please let your boy cum. I’ll be a good boy for you

¨Only me?¨

¨Yes mommy, only you, and you only, just please let me cum¨ he almost cried

¨Mommy approves¨

You wrapped a hand around his length once more, you started stroking very slow at first but after one and one pump, you speed up the pace. Elvis closed his eyes shut. You looked at Elvis.

¨Open em and look at Mommy¨ he opened them and he looked straight at your eyes. Your hand moving fast.

¨I.. gonna..¨

¨Do it.¨

He moaned louder and louder and finally after two pumps, his cock shot out loads white sticky strings, you watched, biting your lip.

Elvis was in his ecstasy, and when he feels it exiting his body, he is left breathless and said,

¨Did I do good?¨

¨yes you did, baby, Good boy¨

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello how are you :3? I was wondering if you could write E.J., Hoodie, and Masky with a s/o that has a lot of scars? (Toby too but platonic for him) I’m not sure how many people we can request so if it’s too many just Hoodie? I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and thank you!

Various!Creepypastas w/ a scarred!reader

waaaah im so sorry for not seeing this sooner! i didnt recieve a notification for this ask!! really theres no limit to how many characters you can send in! i think my personal max varies from prompt to prompt!! mix of how they approach the concept of a scarred lover (friend in tobys case) with some hints of fluff! cause of scars will be vague as admittedly i didnt know if you meant general scars or SH! side note i hope this posts right! im writing this on my computer, im used to mobile!! + apologies for any weird wording or typos, im listening to music and im getting hyped!! not proof read we die like my spiderverse brainrot

Includes: Eyeless Jack, Hoodie, Masky and Platonic!Toby!

CWs: touch and go talk of potential past trauma, body image issues, vague mentions of SH(?) in EJs part + Toby's parts

admittedly admin doesnt know if its technically SH due to the nature and motiv but personally id still count it as such and tag it as such

Eyeless Jack;

he gets it, he really does. the basic run down of my hc/take on ej is that he wasnt always some flesh eating monster; just some dude who got caught up in some bad stuff

so naturally, he doesnt... really vibe well with the concept of eating human flesh, which can lead to a few... instances. from intentionally to accidentally harming himself while hes lost in his instincts

so hes no stranger to being a little roughed up around the edges

but hes a stranger to comforting; he'll likely approach it from a logical side before trying anything else. "you've been hurt," before going on a small tangent about the formation of scars. hes not the most... emotionally... good... available... person

so youre going to need to lay out the general basis for what you need for basic comfort, on days where your scars become an issue; be is needing comfort or a distraction. it may take him a while, but hell eventually start to pick up on cues and hints as your relationship develops

otherwise hes very neutral about them, again approaching them with a blunt view; seeing it as neither good nor bad. he doesnt draw attention to them, but he doesnt act like theyre gross

really just. vibing with it, doesnt make a huge deal of it since he feels he doesnt have any place to judge, nor does he feel its his business to pry for information

solid 6/10 imo, hell comfort you if you express that you need it but hell likely not go out of his way to do it

Hoodie;

Soft touches, he almost does it before he has your permission to touch you

naturally he has his own fair share of scars from various.. activities

really im still all jumbled up with how i wanna write him and masky; not sure if i want to make them like how they are in their MH source or lean into the proxy thing that was prominent in the early days of the fandom... lowkey leaning into the proxy thing for this post because im more... versed..? in that, but anyhow

hes more upfront and compassionate than eyeless jack, in fact hes probably the most caring out of the four in todays post... maybe thats because i read one (1) fic years back that changed my entire approach to his character but! yeah

subconsciously trails his hands on them when the two of you are holding one another; something gentle and intimate, not too obnoxious to make you self conscious, but not careful enough to go unnoticed

i view hoodie, and by extension brian if i end up considering him and tim fully seperate from their 'proxy' parts, as a very tactile person

true to the popular fanon interpretation, hoodie doesnt speak much. but that only makes him a better listener, so on days where things get hard, hell let you talk his ears off with anything thats bothering you. very rarely, hell speak up and offer some words of advice, most times hell inch closer to grasp you. though it does get awkward since most the time hes just. blankly staring at you silently without emoting or saying a word

overall? personally hes a 7/10 for me, i would rank him higher if he were more verbal, but thats just because admin has an easier time venting if its a two way convo; but overall hell make sure that your scars dont effect your worth

Masky;

very similarly to hoodie, masky also has his own set of scars for the same reasons

he probably starts pointing out his own scars to you and mumbles about where they came from if he knows their origins

this doesnt mean "oh hes invalidating your experiences and hes trying to make it about himself," but more so "hes showing that he really does get it and he doesnt mean to talk over you"

much like EJ he approaches scars with a very blunt and upfront mindset, but to a lesser extent. he admits that whatever led up to the tissue forming, it hurt. emotionally and physically, and hes not going to deny that simple fact. hell listen to you, have a conversation with you about it, and try to help you through whatever you may be currently going through regardless of if youre injury is relevant.

or at least, thats what hes trying to do.

hes still has his own personal issues regarding going about his own problems in a healthy manner but hey thats something for another post; maybe, if i remember

honestly this post doesnt have enough fluff imo, and i can kinda see masky doing this, but imagine he boops his mask against your scars in a mockery of a kiss (doesnt take off his mask often, in fact youll probably never ever see him without it on), i can see jack doing this too tbh

thoughts? 8/10, gets the bonus points for being less awkward to rant to imo, plus i think asides ej, i think i have a bias for masky for the simple fact i had the fattest crush on him when i was in middle school

Toby;

okay! this one is going to be interesting for one main reason! i actually havent touched tobys character in YEARS! so hes probably going to have the shorter list... obligatory i havent built any solid hcs for him past what was going on in the fandom in the 2010s, before toby briefly became a mild discomfort... but we're back in business baby!! (^^ dont feel bad for requesting for toby btw! hes no longer a discomfort, and if i didnt want to write for him i wouldnt be including him right here!!)

obviously we cant talk about his part without talking about his cheek. and other, similar hcs. while i dont think most of the self inflicted marks on his body were from a place of.. for lack of better words, darkness; it doesnt change the fact he still has them. i think a lot of them are from the fact he cant feel anything; accidental burns, gnawing through his cheek, digging his fingers deep into himself. really i could go into detail, but due to the aforementioned fact that my take on him isnt as developed as other characters + i really dont think its appropriate for this post (or really, anywhere on this account,), ill stop there

while he cant relate to the physical pain of what caused your scars, he can sympathize through your feelings. do you feel sorrow, or anger to whoever hurt you? hell be getting worked up right with you, because to him youre one of his closest friends

i feel like he doesnt talk much about his past, regarding his family. but hed tell you, and you can sure as hell bet that hell do his absolute damndest to grant you the same feeling of security.

hell probably touch and prod without truly meaning any harm, but thats because he can have problems with boundaries, but hell listen if you sit him down and tell him it makes you uncomfortable if it does

more so emotional than outwardly... supportive? idk the words, but hes very empathetic with you and tries to relate to you through emotion rather than feeling what you felt. honestly? kinda based for that, but maybe thats because i dont see feelings about this topic being touched on, usually its straight up about how the scar makes the person look or the physical trauma they had gone through, but idk, maybe thats just a me thing

he can be an asshole at times but hell usually backtrack and cool off somewhere else if you call him out on it imo

not sure if its because as im LITERALLY investigating his characteristics and interpretations as we speak, but i think im starting to relate to him so ER-OH!

anyways, i wish i could make his segment more... in tune with the characters above but its probably going to take me a while until im comfortable with how i portray this dude, which sucks because as a kid he was probably one of my favorites

i dont think im going to give toby a rating like the others; since i dont think i can accurate rate him due to the lack of proper concrete ideas outside of him being empathetic to your emotional pain since he cant relate on how much it hurt

im gonna end this here since im starting to sound like a broken record on tobys part so!

i hope you enjoyed this! characterization may be a little off but i blame that mostly on the fact that i kinda fell out of the loop in regards for writing for these guys (that damn spider movie! the brainrot threw me off my creepypasta grind!/j) but its good to be back writing for this fandom! it was a fun little brain exercise trying to figure out each character goes about this kind of thing without making them all the same!! with that being said, im going to go listen to an audio reading of tobys story so i can regrounded in his character and hopefully do him some justice in the future!

[freebooter4ever]

Rating random hockey statues that i found on image search.

Big fucking disclaimer: i only know who two of these guys are so if i say nice things about your most hated player i apologize.

10/10 - fucking worse news ever you just found out your favorite team's biggest meanest rival has the coolest fucking hockey statue. Life is not fair.

9/10 - look i still hate boston but they really know how to do a good statue. Not only does it seem like they at least attempted likeness (i dont know this person), but he's got gorgeous details that were apparently advised on by the player himself including the tape on the stick and down to the lack of laces in the jersey. But the thing that really pushes this statue to the second from the top is the fact that he's...flying...

Most damn unique hockey statue i have seen, i love it.

8/10 - the cleverness of using a building's wall as the 'boards' and having the statue jumping over it is too cool. Also some really nicely sculpted curly hair there

7/10 - look at that angle!!! The flow of movement! Thats fucking amazing. Of course judging from his gear this dude was also from the era where we could actually see the beautiful lines of action in the players bodies so its a little different than modern statues, but still.

6/10 - i actually recgonize him!!!!! A rarity in hockey statues. I do think they could have faked it a little and given him a bit more bulk but i appreciate their sticking to real life. Meanwhile la really fucking failed their version...

They took a handsome man and made him...this.

5/10 - another one with a beautiful line of action and i love the ice detail that actually looks like a jagged spray of ice (unlike the weird watery spray in boston which is my one complaint about that statue).

4/10 - if i didnt know that was mario would i know that was mario? Its beautiful but it doesnt even have a number OR a penguin on the jersey which makes me sad

3/10 - this is the best modern era sculpture i have seen, im loving the helmet detail and the gloves detail

2/10 - flawless. Perfection. No notes. His skates are shaped to his duck feet.

1/10 - from certain angles this looks like the most adorable hockey statue ever....but please someone who knows where this is tell me that there is some kind of irony in having the children's faces sculpted as if they are 50 years old. Are those the faces of actual hockey players? That is the only reason i can think of to make the kids so terrifying looking.

Bonus round:

100000000/10 this is like if han solo were taking a shit in the moment he became frozen in carbonite. Free this goalie's ass. Defrost him, let him escape from the net before he has an existential crisis.

[write-kin]

Barb and Bayonet

notes: thank you to @cyberwhumper for lending me your guys!! :D i hope i did them justice. sunshine and dog now take up a significant portion of my brain.

naming this was the hardest part. i did write this over several days and i don't have the energy to fix the tense switching so let's pretend it's a clever way to show sunshine's issues with time. also this is LONG wow im sorry

CWs: dehumanization, lab/medical whump, loosely referenced past noncon, violence (non-graphically described, but to the point of disembowelment), mentions of unwanted body modification, drugging (tranquilizer)

--

“Did you hear one of the big suits in Engineering got fired?”

“No shit. What for?”

“Apparently he was dating- no, married to? No, dating the boss’ daughter. The big boss. Eponymous Mr. De Conti himself.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Anyways, apparently they got into a nasty fight, and she pulled a couple of strings and got him dumped out on his ass.”

“Jeez.”

The crate that held the Sunshine Project was on wheels, smooth rolling occasionally interrupted by a bump in the otherwise cleanly-paved asphalt or a rock. When that happened, it curled up a little more, groaning in discomfort from the nausea it had been left in. 

“He was a kid, too. Like, not even thirty. You know the reason that he got that high up was because he was dating her.”

“Really.”

“Yeah! High school sweethearts, my ass. I mean, if I studied for twenty fucking years at-” 

“DeConti Technologies.” 

The movement stopped, and Sunshine took the opportunity to readjust itself. From the thin slats in the crate, it could see some sort of door.

The light hurt its eyes. Looking up had been a bad idea.

There’s some shuffling, and a beep. The second man speaks first, this time.

A few more beeps, and then they’re moving again. 

Sunshine isn’t privy to much info surrounding them. They mostly learn things from chatty handlers. 

All they know this time is that they’re not the only person- project- being transferred. Something about attempted infiltration from a rival.

The crate gets pulled along a far smoother floor this time, sometimes more footsteps joining them. Sometimes it’s just the two sets that Sunshine is used to. After a bit, there’s a harsh turn, and then another stop. Sunshine vaguely recognizes the hum of LED lighting. Flinches away from the slats. There’s a click in the lock of the crate, and the door slowly opens.

Dully, Sunshine curses at the fact that someone decided to put it through a chemical flush immediately before transfer. And then, judging from everything around them, they were going to be trying some new infusions immediately after. They don’t feel great. 

“You sure about leaving Sunshine with this one? I mean, it’s being moved because- well, I mean, I heard from a friend it mauled its last cellmate.”

“Ooh.”

“Had to take the poor thing to emergency surgery.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t worry, gentlemen.”

A third voice interrupts them, self-assured and confident. Sunshine doesn’t see their face as it’s ushered out of the crate, the less talkative worker making a face at the pile of sick in the corner. It’s pulled up to its feet, the larger and chattier one throwing its arm over his shoulder as he walks it to a familiar set of machinery. Set down with a friendly clap on its shoulder as it adjusts to the new setting. Tries to get its head to stop spinning.

“We’ve sedated it after that incident. Besides, we’d owe you a lot of money if your bioengineering work was ruined. I assure you, every precaution has been taken to assure its safety.” 

The ports are well-designed. A little magnetic pulse, and they open up. The cables that are inserted into them are thick, bendable plastic. Most of the chemicals inside them have been dyed with food colouring, to distinguish them from one another. Nontoxic. Not enough to change the composition that’s going inside of their body. 

They’re allowed the dignity of keeping its hospital gown mostly on. Tied around the waist, front down so the ports on its shoulders, arms, and chest are plugged in.

When it’s all hooked up, with the chemicals- they never tell it what- slowly seeping into it, Sunshine lays down on its side. 

The worst is the one on its tailbone. The base of the spine is an integral place for these infusions. At least, that’s what it’s been assured. But it always hurts, and it always feels uncomfortable.

At least it’s past the phase where they duct-taped its hands together to stop it trying to remove the cable. 

The big worker gives it one last sympathetic look, before the whole group and the crate leave. 

It could have sworn they were talking about it having a cellmate. But it didn’t see anyone. Just it, the wires, the door, and the cold floor. 

Until the door opened again. 

The noise was loud. Metal on tile, and the scraping of metal on metal. 

Sunshine lifted its head again, dizzy. 

There was another scientist- a different logo on their coat- watching as eight unfamiliar other workers tried to drag in… something.

It looked kind of like a person. Sort of. Sunshine blinked, squinting a little.

The thing was huge, easily almost twice Sunshine’s height. Long, metal limbs, black hair, metal panelings replacing most skin. They’d be scared, if it didn’t look exhausted, if it wasn’t being held up as it blearily made its way into the room. The thing almost fell over onto its side several times, nearly crushing the men under it. Its ears were down, pinned to the sides of its head in seeming exhaustion.

Eventually, it was dragged into the other corner of the room. It didn’t move. 

The men left, and the scientist behind them, turning sharply on their heel. 

Sunshine stared at the other thing. It almost forgot to blink. 

It was huge. That went through their mind again. The way its back hunched and its limbs twitched as it… slept? Felt unnatural. Like it wasn’t used to being like this. 

They decided they would join it in resting. Closed their eyes, and let the rhythm of the infusion’s drip lull them to sleep.

The thing sniffed them, inspected the infusion ports, ears up and forwards. Looked like whatever they’d sedated it with had worn off. 

Sunshine woke up to a cold nose on its shoulder. Warm metal pawing at its side.

Instinctively, one of its hands went up to protect the ports. Last time one had been dislodged, well… Sunshine’s face and left shoulder showed how bad of an idea that was. 

Sunshine flinched away, slowly sitting up. They remembered what the bigger worker had said- mauled its last cellmate. 

It was sitting close to them, hunched over. Looking more like an animal than a person. 

The black metal on its chin led into two metallic fangs, pointing up. 

It surprised Sunshine when the thing spoke. Enough that they flinched away from it at the sudden noise. 

But the voice was softer than they’d anticipated. Not gentle on the ears, but not painful. 

“... like me.” 

“Who are you?”

Sunshine couldn’t respond. Their voice wouldn’t obey them even if they wanted to speak. Instead, they stayed still as the thing inspected them. 

Sunshine isn’t sure what it means by that. 

Or what it intends when it starts nudging them back towards the wall, making them flinch again and make a quiet noise of pain when it bumps the tailbone cable into the wall.

The rest of the infusion isn’t pleasant. It never is, really. 

That stops it, though. Something flashes in its eyes. It tilts its head, and then gently pushes Sunshine down with a hand. Paw?

They’re too horizontal to care. Instead, they stare up as it lays down beside him, body large enough to curl around Sunshine easily. 

That’s the cycle, though. Unpleasant infusion, unpleasant observation, unpleasant flush, unpleasant waiting period. 

Without thinking, Sunshine reaches a hand up. Runs a hand over the soft fur on one of the thing’s ears, causing it to twitch. 

Although, unexpectedly, the thing makes the whole ordeal almost… pleasant. When Sunshine has to adjust, trying to run from the pain of having something foreign injected into their body, it curls in closer. When they relax, and their breathing evens out, its mechanical tail taps the floor.

Like it’s wagging. Like a dog. 

It’s surprisingly pleasant. And the thing doesn’t seem to mind. 

When Sunshine goes up for another pet, it even pushes its head up to encourage the movement. They can’t move their arm too far, or risk disrupting the cable work, so it’s a nice compromise. 

Eventually, it adjusts, putting a massive metal arm over their side. It feels like it’s crushing them, but the sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant. And Sunshine’s hand can move comfortably over its head, at least until the movement slows and stops. 

It was reassuring. 

Vaguely, in the hazes where they woke up to readjust, Sunshine realized that because of their cellmate’s sheer size, they were hidden entirely from view. Sure, there were cameras, but not in the infusion bay. And they couldn’t be seen from the door. 

When Sunshine woke up properly again, their friend was still dead asleep, but had been  moved off of them. Someone was holding their head up as the cables were being removed from the ports, which were then closed up with the ‘clicker thingy’. 

Then, Sunshine was laid back down, and the workers scurried out.

None of them said ‘Hello’, so none of them were the nice, chatty one. That was sad. Sunshine liked that one. 

It circled around behind them, and then that paw was over their tailbone, pushing them across the floor a little in an attempt to inspect the port. 

When their cellmate woke up, it pushed itself onto all fours, and yawned. Big, metal fangs glinting in the light as it stretched. It looked back over at Sunshine, and tilted its head. Looked… concerned?

They weren’t great at telling emotions anymore. 

They managed to turn around, making eye contact with their cellmate.

It spoke again. Quiet, gentle. Concerned. 

“Where did it go?”

Sunshine tilted their head. Pointed up at the infusion bay they’d just slept in. If you squinted, you could see the ends of the cables in their bays. 

It made its way back over, pushing up onto its hind legs to inspect the bays, terrifyingly tall even when it wasn’t at its full height. Tried to tug the biggest one, the one connecting to the tailbone port, down. Like this, it looked closer to natural on two legs.  

It looked back down at Sunshine. Tugged at the cable. 

Sunshine shook their head. They couldn’t speak, but… trying to communicate wasn’t too hard. Shaking and nodding one’s head and pointing went a long way. 

That seemed to make sense to it. The thing went back down, and looked at Sunshine with an expression bordering on pity. 

Sunshine pushed themself back up onto their feet, being barely the same height as their cellmate, who was on all fours. 

It went back to the corner it had originally been left in, and Sunshine followed. 

When they sat down by it, it curled its tail around them. 

It took a little bit for Sunshine to look at the tail. It was a beautiful, terrible, mechanical thing. Smooth and nice. 

When their cellmate didn’t react badly, they ran their hands over it, looking at the work. It looked almost familiar, but they couldn’t place from where. 

“Miss yours?” 

That startled them. Sunshine looked over, and saw that their cellmate had curled around them more, head looming over their shoulder. 

They weren’t sure what to say. What their cellmate thought. So they just nodded, and it looked sad again. The tail thumped slightly, before settling down, letting Sunshine inspect it. 

Eventually, one of the handlers came in. They looked, frankly, terrified, and seeing Sunshine there didn’t seem to help. Sunshine wasn’t sure what was happening, or why their cellmate seemed agitated. 

Well, at least not until the strange gun the handler held was pressed to its neck, and with a ka-chunk noise, it went limp. 

The handler left. Sunshine sat there, not sure what to do. 

Eventually, they settled on sitting in front of the cellmate they had decided would be their new friend. Slowly petting its hair in the way that seemed to make it happy, and sitting still when it shook or growled in its sleep. 

It had kept them safe when they slept. They could return the favor.

A few days passed like that. Sunshine was adjusting okay to the move, and their friend had, seemingly, been slowly weaned off of the sedatives they gave it. It was nice. The two of them spent most of their time together- not that there was really much else to do. The little entertainment Sunshine had in their old cell hadn’t come with them. 

They mostly entertained themselves by listening to their friend and inspecting the metal, when it was in the mood to be inspected. 

The unspoken arrangement was that they kept each other safe. Sunshine gave their friend most of their food, and their friend growled at anyone who came in, except for the infusion team. Then, while it didn’t speak to them, it paid close attention to them when they were being hooked up.

When one slept and the other didn’t, the other would stay up and keep them safe. From what, Sunshine wasn’t sure. But it was good. It made them feel better to be able to help their friend, in the way it seemed to be protecting them. 

Their friend spoke in small, broken sentences. A voice that sounded like it would be nice laughing, or talking too loud. Maybe they could get it to that point someday.

Sunshine, for their part, didn’t speak. Well, not much. Most of the caretakers back at the old lab had heard less than ten words from them in the entire stay, and they couldn’t make themselves talk if they wanted to. Not that they wanted to. 

Sunshine wasn’t great at telling time. They couldn’t tell when it was night and when it was day, and so they slept when they were tired and stayed awake when they weren’t. The infusions and flushes probably didn’t help, with the level of brain fog they caused him. 

But they definitely knew that something was wrong when they woke up, unplugged, and alone. 

Their friend was at the other end of the room, growling. If it had fur, it would be raised. Its ears were pinned back, and it was staring at Sunshine. 

They stood up, walking over to it. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest decision, but they were worried. 

“... not him.”

What? Sunshine was confused, and their friend didn’t look much better. Its hair was messed up, pupils blown out, eyes darting around but always coming back to Sunshine. 

Sunshine had heard murmurs from the people who came to check in on them, who sometimes dragged their friend out and back in again. Read the warnings on its metal, when the letters didn’t make their head swim. Those caution warnings, which they had taken as a sign of safety, because this was their friend, were now advising them to stay away from the thing slowly stalking towards them. 

That didn’t seem to help, though. It snarled, and the metal fangs they’d inspected and that had brushed against them when it checked in were, all of a sudden, what they were meant to be.

Terrifying. 

Sunshine looked at its face again. The way it was stalking towards him. They were terrible at expressions, and most faces ended up a smudge in their mind. But they were fairly confident in their guess that under the anger in its face, it looked a little afraid. 

Afraid of them?

“Stop.” 

They were half its height. It could pick them up easily. They had come to depend on it for safety. Why did it seem afraid of them?

Sunshine didn’t have the voice to ask. They just walked forwards, reaching a shaking hand out to try and run it through their friend’s hair. That always calmed it down. 

Sunshine pulled their hand back. Okay. No touch. That was okay. 

“Not…. leave. Go. Stop lying to me.”

Sunshine can’t exactly protest that they haven’t said anything, so there’s no chance they could have lied. Instead, they slowly back away. The words are confusing, but it doesn’t seem to understand anything it’s saying either. 

“Where is he?”

Sunshine keeps backing away. 

“... not him. Wrong.”

It sounded like it was talking to itself, but the words were spoken to Sunshine. 

Before they could figure out how to ask what it was talking about, it was on top of them. Moving far faster than something that big really should, paw- hand?- on their chest, pinning them down.

The claws were sharp. They dug past the cloth, making painful red lines in their chest. 

“Get away.”

They can’t. They’re pinned down. It’s breathing heavily over them, panting like it’s terrified.

“Get away.”

Sunshine tries to push themselves away, but that just makes it worse. The other paw is over their head, and then there’s a lot of pain, and a ringing noise, and a faraway yell, and then there is quite a bit of nothing. 

Its eyes shoot open further when they groan softly, and its tail curled closer to their side. 

They come to on their back, staring at the ceiling. It’s curled around them again, and there’s a pool of blood on the floor.

Theirs, probably.

“So sorry.” 

“Sorry.”

The voice is familiar. It’s their friend’s voice, calm and soft and worried. Not like the panicked voice they’d heard before.

Sunshine feels cold. That’s weird. It’s usually a manageable temperature in here. 

Their hospital gown has been draped over them, like a makeshift blanket. There’s a very large bloody patch on it, slowly spreading.

“I can help.” It pauses, looking almost like it’s about to cry. “Fix you.” 

Sunshine watches as it circles them again, and when it stands up they can see a trail of blood across the floor. Two, actually- a smaller one that looks like it came from their head.

Oh. It’s Sunshine’s blood. That makes sense. 

It settles down, between them and the door. Like normal. They move their head so they’re looking straight up again. 

“I’ll make it okay.” A little pause. A noise. “Don’t go. Can’t  lose…” 

“Didn’t know. Confused. I’m so sorry.”

Sunshine keeps staring at the ceiling. 

It makes a noise that sounds almost frustrated. 

They stay there like that for a little while. Sunshine isn’t sure how long. Their friend mumbles names sometimes. Or words. Or apologies. 

Eventually, there’s a noise. The sound of a door opening. Footsteps, and a lot of them. 

“Get away from the project.” 

Sunshine’s friend snarls again. Not directed at them, so it’s not scary. Its tail lashes, and it rises up again. Twice Sunshine’s size. Bigger than anyone else in this room. 

Their friend growls, turning over and slowly standing up.

Sunshine turns their head to the side, seeing the legs of what look like handlers. A couple different uniforms.

When their friend stalks forwards, and they get a clearer look at some of the people, there are gasps. A “Christ.” A “Not another one.” And an “Are we sure it’s alive?” met with an “It moved, look, it’s breathing.” 

They feel safe. If anyone is going to protect them, their friend will. 

Watching it advance, Sunshine feels safe until there’s a soft yip from his friend, almost a whimper, and it falls to the floor in a giant heap. 

One of the people in the group, a member of the few in lab coats, walks up to it and kneels down to fiddle with something. 

Some of the workers run over to Sunshine, one kneeling down over them, gingerly pulling down the makeshift blanket when another worker gives them the go-ahead. 

A huge gash, in the center of their chest, and they’re losing a lot of blood from it. So deep that their intestines were visible. 

That’s not good. The sounds of horror they hear only confirms it. 

They were also covered in scratches, bruises, claw marks, and even a couple of bites. 

Out of the corner of their eye, there’s movement. It’s up again, moving, and scared. The scientist waves it over to the corner, where it makes itself look as large as possible. 

The scientist, for their part, comes to join the workers standing around them. Inspects Sunshine with a detached stare and a soft smile. They look comforting, almost pretty. That could be the blood loss, though. They have dark hair in a… ponytail? Maybe? Sunshine isn’t sure. The fluorescent lights reflect nicely off of the pearls on their glasses chains, though.

This should probably hurt. They can see their own guts. They should be screaming or something. But Sunshine feels calm. The handler kneeling over them- saying words, calling them ‘Sunny’, and they recognize the voice as the talkative one- seems incredibly concerned by that. He is, however, shut up when the one next to the scientist speaks. 

“Dog broke another one, Mal.” 

This worker doesn’t seem to be much more than mildly displeased with the whole situation. Sunshine manages to move its head to look at the thing cowering in the corner.

Is that ‘Dog’? 

That seems like a fairly plain name for something like that. Sunshine thinks, vaguely, while watching its insides be put back in, that it would name Dog something cooler. Like “Deathinator” or “Murderpaws”. 

That was the last coherent thought they had for a while. Sunshine went limp in the arms of whoever had picked him up, head lolling to the side. His vision went crossed, but he thought he could make out Dog cowering in the corner. The scientist with the long hair and the glasses chain- Mal?- was saying something to it. 

After that, it was a blur. Lots of lights. Something injected in their arm. And then another injection in their neck. 

Noises that sounded like voices. Being carried on a stretcher. At least, it felt like one. Sunshine was very horizontal. 

They faded in and out of consciousness. Most times, they woke up somewhere else. One time it was on a table, surrounded by people in surgical masks. One time, in what looked like an infusion chamber. 

Eventually, though, they started waking up in the same place. A room. It looked like the hospital rooms they’d seen on TV, with green walls and a window. There’s a makeshift infusion bay above them, which isn’t putting in any of the coloured chemicals they were used to.

The talkative worker was there sometimes. They didn’t understand any of his words. But he chatted to them. 

They aren’t sure when it is that the words started being words again.

“... I tried to tell them not to transfer you back there, you know. Big animal and all. Christ. You should have seen what he did to you. We didn’t think you were going to make it.”

They’re hooked up for a flush, this time. Make them sick, get everything out of their body. It’s not pleasant. 

“Anyways, there should be more cameras in there. I know you don’t talk, but, uh… if you ever decide to, it’d be handy. You can yell at one of the cameras if that thing mauls you again.” 

They can’t ‘decide to’. Not that they have the voice to say that. Still, Sunshine nods. That gets a smile from the worker.

Sunshine spends most of the walk back to the room not walking. They’re covered in bandages, with a large dressing around their midsection that they’ve been informed will need to be changed every two days. 

“Glad to hear it. Well. You know.” He slaps his knees, standing up and groaning slightly.

“You ready? Big day today. Still wish they’d have put you somewhere else, or sent that thing back to his original lab. But I’m no big shot, so they don’t listen to me.”

Their old hospital gown was destroyed, so someone had dressed them in a tee shirt with a logo they couldn’t currently read, pajama pants without strings, and fuzzy socks that made walking on the smooth floors difficult. Mostly, they were dragged by a few workers. 

When the door opens, Dog growls. It’s got something on it, this time, around its upper arm. Sunshine’s vision is too blurry to really tell what. 

The growling stops, however, when it sees Sunshine. Then, it’s quiet. Eerily still. The workers set them down leaning on the wall by the infusion port, and leave as quickly as they can. 

Dog comes up to them. Looks them over, eyes wide. 

Sunshine can’t deny that they’re a little afraid. But more than that, there’s instead relief. Seeing the only friend they had. Dog not being put down or taken away. A return to what Sunshine had come to consider normal.

When they’re sure that nobody but the two of them is in the room, it feels like the block in Sunshine’s throat fades away. 

They manage an exhausted smile up at Dog. 

Dog’s ears are still pinned back, and it- he, Sunshine thinks, remembering what the talkative worker said-  looks nervous. Scared. An ear flicks, and Sunshine reaches out again. Slowly gives him a pet. 

“I’m not mad at you.”

Their voice is dry. Small. Tired. Cracking slightly, from disuse. 

“... nap.” The voice comes again, and Sunshine smiles. 

Then, they’re horizontal again. The flushes aren’t pleasant, especially not ones after emergency surgery, so Sunshine isn’t sure if Dog pushed them over or if they fell.

Either way, there’s a familiar warmth surrounding them, hiding them from view by pushing into the wall. 

“Yeah, okay. Let’s take a nap.”