#it basically knocks all the issues out fast

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Finally, a video I can yeet at the Mabel Pines haters:

[midorisplash]

“Can I sleep in here?”

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo × Reader

Summary: You're spending the night with the triplets and your bestie Nick makes you sleep on the couch. You don’t like it very much... so you'll find somewhere else to sleep.

Warnings: Making out, mentions of commit issues, handjob, cum eating.

A/n: cracking my knuckles with this one, first time writing in so long but I was horny.

“Chris.” You opened his door with a knock standing at the door frame. “Hm?” He groaned twisting under his sheets his head pushed into his pillows. “Chris.” You spoke again. “Can I sleep in here?” He groaned loudly and turned onto his back sitting up on his elbows. “Hm? Why?” He mumbled his voice deep and raspy. “Cause the couch is uncomfortable, and it’s dark and lonely out there.” You spoke honestly. You saw, only from the moon lighting up his bedroom a grin spread across his face. “Just sleep with Nick.” “No, he always takes all the covers from me.” You spoke rolling your eyes and walking into the room closing the door behind you. “You won’t even know I’m here. Please.”

Chris groaned and finally nodded watching as you quickly walked over crawling into bed next to him. “You’re lucky I don’t like sleeping alone and Matt didn’t want me in his room tonight.” He spoke letting his body plop onto the bed his hands coming up to rub his tired face. “Why not?” You spoke. “Cause he’s yapping about some alone time.” He huffed folding his arms. “He’s like alone all the time, how more alone can you get.” You nodded at his words. “Why do you always wanna sleep with one of them anyway?” He sighed and looked at you. “Cause I get lonely, just how you felt.” You smiled looking back at him. “Well, was good I came in here then. We needed each other's company.” He nodded and smiled at you before it quickly dropped, he blinked looking back at the ceiling.

You noticed that reaction and frowned. “What was that for?” You spoke softly. “Nothing. It's stupid.” He smiled and chuckled to himself. “That just felt too intimate..” “It’s literally wasn’t at all.” You giggled. “Yeah it was you were like ‘I’m lonely’ and I was like me too, and then we kissed that’s basically what happened.” Chris spoke. You laughed quietly nudging his arm. “It's not funny, that's what happened..” He smiled. You rolled your eyes taking a breath. “You wish. What’s so bad about it being an intimate moment between us? The thought of that's so bad you had to look away in disgust?” “Cause it didn’t feel friend intimate it felt partner intimate. And I didn't look away in that way I was just nervous.” He grumbled the last party looking back to you.

“Oh, so partner intimates not okay between us?” You whispered looking back at him. “I- I mean… I didn’t say that…Yeah, it’s cool.” He muttered clearing his throat. “Umm, so you wanna start heading to bed?” You smiled at how fast he changed the subject, you could tell he had gotten nervous and shy from the silly conversation. You wished you could see his face better the moon wasn't light enough to show you how red you knew his face was, but you could see how almost puppy-like his eyes looked. So vulnerable that small moment enough to make him look and feel that way. As his friend you knew too well about his committ issues so that explained why he was getting so shy from it feeling so intimate. “I'm not that sleepy now, I wanna keep talking If that's okay.” You spoke sitting up enough you could look down at him. “You okay Chris?” "Y-yeah I’m fine..” He spoke softly.

You had always wanted to do something with Chris but because of your relationship with him and his brothers and of course his issues, you knew it probably would never happen. But in this moment you couldn’t help but ask a simple question. The worst he could say was no. “Can I kiss you?” He blinked but to your surprise nodded pretty quickly. You smiled and looked down at his lips letting your eyes fall close as you leaned down your lips connecting with his. He kissed back trying to keep up with the pace of your movements as you licked and bit at his lip. He moaned quietly and sat up so the kiss could deepen bringing a hand to rest on your waist.

You both sat fully up Chris's back resting against his headboard your hand trailing down his chest to the hem of his pajamas. He pulled away his lips wet and puffy from all your bitting. “D-do you wanna do more? It’s up to you.” Chris whispered trying to catch his breath quietly. You smiled and nodded looking down to where your hand was resting, further down his dick creating a tight tint in his pants. Chris felt embarrassed you saw him like this and couldn’t help but turn his head away from you wanting to hide his face. You looked at him bringing your hand up to his chin to make him look at you. “Pull your pants down.” “Okay.” Chris nodded taking a deep breath and holding it bringing his hand down and lifting his hips pulling his pajamas down just enough that his hard dick sprung out from his lack of underwear.

Chris let out his breath feeling it hitch just from the way you looked at it his body starting to tremble. You placed your hand to rest on his lower stomach using your index finger to rub in a small circle down to his groin. His hips twitched up erupting a chuckle from you, looking at his face. He had his eyebrows knitted together his lip tucked under his teeth he looked so ready for any simulation of his painfully hard dick. “C-come on.” He whispered and finally looked at your eyes. You smiled looking back at him. “I can tell you haven’t been touched in a while.” You spoke bringing your hand up to your mouth spitting in it. Chris nodded watching your hand closely holding his breath as you brought it back down to his dick finally granting him some relief of wrapping your warm hand around his erection.

He let go of the breath he was holding his head falling back onto the headboard, his eyes fluttering close. “Fuck.” He moaned thrusting up a bit. You slowly started to move your hand up and down his shaft looking at him to watch his face contort. With his pre cum and your spit it made your hand glide with ease rubbing over the head of his cock making his dick twitch each time. “Look at me.” You whispered. He tried to keep his head up and his eyes open to look at you biting at his lip to suppress his most pitiful moans.

You smiled and brought your free hand behind his neck starting to scratch his head rubbing at his scalp. “Ugh…Oh my god.” He whimpered grabbing your neck gently and pulling you back into a kiss that quickly became heated. You kept a steady pace of his leaky dick making sure to rub at his slit with every other pump. Chris groaned into the kiss his hand flying to the base of his dick holding it tightly. It was so embarrassing. He didn’t want you to think of him as a sex-less loser but that’s sorta what he was. Just from a few minutes of you jerking him off, he felt his stomach gain that familiar knot daring to break at any moment. His dick twitched in your fist and his legs twisted around the bed he couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss to look at your hand working his dick. “I’m gonna cum..” He whimpered putting his hand to his side to keep himself from grabbing your hand and making you stop. The overwhelming feeling of his orgasm about to rush over him making him whine and whimper without any care who would hear. You giggled and looked at his face taking in exactly how he looked. Sp fucked out, and he hasn't even came. “Go ahead, Chris, I want you to cum.” You whispered scratching the back of his head before gripping it roughly.

“Agh fuck! Fuck me… I’m cumming!” He whined his eyes closing tightly as the knot in his stomach finally ripped apart hard his orgasm rushing through him. He thrusted up his cum spurting onto his chest and oozing onto your hand. You looked down to watch and gasped with a giggle. You didn’t stop your hand jerking him off till he rode out his orgasm shaking and wresting around his bed.

You gave him a couple more pumps then let go of his hair and dick holding your hand out in front of you. He brought his hand to his lower stomach rubbing at it in hopes to calm his shaking body down. He panted hard and loud turning his head to look at you. “T-that..that was so fast. I’m sorry.” He spoke. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I could help you cum like that, lonely boy.” You smiled bringing your hand to your face and looking at it a moment before sliding your finger into your mouth and tasting his cum.

He watched you in amazement a smile forming on his face. “Did you seriously just do that?” He spoke raising an eyebrow. “What about it, I wanted to taste you.” You smiled back sucking on your other finger. Chris rolled his eyes slightly taking a breath before speaking. “You’re amazing.” He spoke leaning in a kiss you again.

[fortunelowtier]

Ok so for those who didn't see the news, recently 5 rich people went “””missing””” (they're totally fucking dead) in a “Titanic tourist submarine”, basically made as a way rich people can tour (what's left of) the Titanic's wreckage for a small fee of $250,000 per person.

Anyways, setting aside the horrific implications of dying in a submarine at  13,000 feet (~4km) below sea level, the more I learn about this entire situation the more I become morbidly...amused??

so for starters, the submarine was literally the submarine from Iron Lung. its a metal cylinder with one singular porthole at the front of the vessel that is bolted shut from the outside, and has no seats, its literally just a cylinder

the second thing you need to know is that this thing was wireless, as in it was being controlled from the surface and the people inside had no control, which is concerning in multiple ways because a ship this scuffed should have a safety cable leading to the “mothership” (basically if you've ever watched ocean documentaries and they always have that long cable attached to the sub, that's for in case the wireless control fucks up and they need it to be wired)

what makes this little fact so much more morbidly funny is that this thing was controlled using the remains of a Logitech Gamepad controller from ~2004/2005, a controller notorious for being one of the most clunky pieces of gaming equipment ever designed. so clunky in fact that few people even recognized it, originally mistaking it to be a combination of an Xbox 360 and a PS1 controller. estimated price of $30.

“but Fortune” I hear a very few of you asking, “it shouldn't matter what its controlled with, as long as the connection is good”

and to that my dear reader you would be correct! there are indeed submarines out there controlled with even simple joysticks, and using game controllers to control stuff like this isn't new (why do you think army recruiters prey on low GPA high school gamers to fly drones)

no you see the issue comes when you realize that what this sub was using to transmit controls. was fucking. STARLINK.

Yes, that's correct, Starlink, the service that can barely do its job on land was being used to transmit data through 2.5 miles (4km) of water, at a depth where anything that isn't highly pressurized is crushed instantly 

-----

And at the end of this, if some of you still feel bad for the rich people who spent a quarter of a million dollars to get bolted into a metal cylinder with no seats and a singular porthole that was being controlled by Elon Musk's barely functioning wireless service and one of the most notoriously clunky gaming controllers of all time that was probably bought from a thrift store, just know that it was most likely over quick. 

The likely thing that ended up happening was cabin depressurization, and at such a depth this means they were knocked unconscious by the rapid loss of pressure in the vessel almost instantly, and then shortly thereafter crushed by the weight of the ocean around them. 

Scientifically speaking, they were likely dead so fast that the brain likely couldn't even comprehend what was happening, the most they would've felt is a little pop in their ears for a fraction of a second.

[ma1dmer]

Call of Duty - Russell Adler NSFW

AMERICAAAA RAAAAAAH 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he sits back, lights up a cigarette and brings you close to him, he needs a second to come back down, usually doesn't talk much right after, but he likes to listen as he trails his hand up and down the small of your back, blowing the smoke away from your face and offering you the cigarette, sometimes watching you talk makes him want to go for a second round

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he is a chest guy, he loves the feel of cupping your chest when you ride him, playing with your nipples or putting his mouth around them, he's really into feminization as well, you are his pretty little thing no matter what, and him playing with your chest enforces that, loves sexy bralettes, low cut tops and matching sets especially

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he loves the mess, everytime you get embarrassed he assures you that's exactly what his goal was, to have you ruining his sheets, whether thats by squirting or cumming, he also really loves pulling out right as he's cumming inside of you, just to watch it leak out of you, but that part is only reserved if you two have been together for a long time

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he has a few darker fantasies that he doesn't quite know how to bring up to you, he'll jokingly pepper them in during his dirty talk or when he pins you down, pointing out how easy that is for him, or when you leave your window open, or when you are drinking a bit too much, just a hint to something darker, maybe he's making you warm up to the idea, testing the waters to see if you'd like something like that, he'd never bring it up himself, especially if you are in an actual relationship, but he'd do enough to plant the idea in your mind make you want to at least explore these ideas

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): of course he has experience, he has an ex wife, he's had his fair share of one night stands, and it's a real shame that he can backup all his claims, because he does get quite cocky

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): reverse and normal cowgirl, enjoys letting you set the pace, his hands always on your chest unless you get tired at which point he'll pull you down chest to chest and thrust up inside you, fast and rough, knocking the wind straight out of you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): his favourite thing to get to you is acting as if you two are strangers just meeting each other when you are out at a bar, he hits you up with the cheesiest swoon worthy one liners, he buys you a drink, asks your name and everything, its stupid and god damn him it works every time he does it

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): mostly keeps things trimmed unless he knows you two are meeting up for the night, then he has no issue cleaning it up entirely, he always smells very strongly of after shave, tastes like it too when you mouth at his neck

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he can flirt like nobody else, but being romantic, it isn't so easy for him, everytime you think he's doing something romantic, he's suddenly pulling away from you, both metaphorically and literally, mentally and physically, one second he's kissing you telling you he missed you breathlessly, the next he's spun you around to face the wall, not wanting to look at your face

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): when he was by himself he had no qualms about handling himself, when he needed to fall asleep quickly or when he was too tired or lazy to pick someone else up, but once he has you, he likes to hold himself off, always tells you that he's doing it for you, how pent up he is and how difficult it was thinking of you while he was away

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): impact play, cnc, feminization, voyeurism etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): your place, his place, any room, it does not matter, if you can't decide, a hotel room is a good copromise, he also enjoys the odd domesticity of a kitchen as well, coming up behind you when you are making breakfast for the both you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): he has a very sensitive neck, kiss the side of his neck while talking to him, drag your teeth down his collarbones and watch him melt

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): there isn't a lot he'd be opposed to with the right motivation some would say, he is easy to convince, just give him some time to think things over

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): don't get him wrong he loves tasting you, but nothing beats the image of you on your knees, he is a head pusher, he swears he doesn't do it on purpose, hes probably lying, the feeling of your throat around his cock is secondary to the sounds you make when you are caught off guard

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): the foreplay is long and by the time he is ready to push himself inside you it really doesn't matter, the act itself is kind of detached he's mostly chasing his own pleasure and by then you don't really mind, already boneless and sore

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he loves them, loves the idea of them more than the mess dealing with them brings, messy hair, cum on his clothes etc etc, but he really doesn't mind squeezing you in while doing paperwork to destress or have you in the stalls of some run down bar on one of your dates

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): you'll have to tell him what you want, most of the time he's willing to indulge you, he'll think through what you asked of him when he's gone and come back with a plan the next time he visits

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): one or two solid rounds, the foreplay lasts longer than then act itself

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): really really likes the idea of them, he won't bring them up by himself, but if you tell him you own some, he'll ask you to tell him how you use them exactly, do you think of him, he'll jokingly ask you if he should be intimidated as his fingers climb their way up and inside your thighs, in the end after he's thought about it a bit or a lot, he'll ask you to bring them out next time

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he loves fingering you, half the fun is shoving his fingers inside of you, feeling around for that spot that makes you twitch beneath him or on his lap, he is extremely skilled with his hands and he loves proving it over and over, he is also absolutely a pussy slapper, has you spread out on his lap, back against his chest, thighs kept apart by his own legs, he starts off gently, and then he gets quite mean with it, until he can feel your wetness on his entire palm and you are clawing at his forearm

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he groans and grunts, his voice deep and gravely when he feels you around him, he curses and dirty talks like its his job

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): loves kissing, you are the bravest soldier if what you have with him is casual, he makes it so difficult to not think he's in love with you with the way he kisses, always chasing your mouth, holding your face between his hands, breathing against your lips, telling you you drive him insane as he pulls your hand to his cock

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): he has a nice cock, a grower, straight with a pretty pink head, it fills up his fist nicely when he holds it for you

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): he only lets himself think of you on his down time, when he is doing paperwork, when he's resting at night in his room lonely in his bed, when he can light a cigarette, palm himself through his pants and wonder when he can drop in to see you again

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he takes his time, almost as if stalling, waiting for you to go to sleep first, he'll let you talk, then he'll wander around the room aimlessly, go smoke, go to the bathroom, if you are not asleep by the time he comes back he might start another round, if you are he finally joins you, hugging you from behind and holding you the entire night

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 8. Fight For Me.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Unethical violence. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2927 words. A/N: Another Saturday, another chapter. I picked up studying Japanese again, so far so good. Any advice is welcome :) Hope you guys like today's chapter. :) Btw I made a PLAYLIST

That was the most uncomfortable morning of my life. I can’t get the idea that I fell asleep in Sukuna's bed like it was nothing out of my head. All I could do was to get dressed quickly to get back to my house before the morning training started. Luckily, I didn't see Sukuna on my way out, maybe he slept in the guest room… or so I thought. His penthouse was huge, there must have been an extra room for sure. Upon arriving at the gym, Sukuna just scolded me for being late as if nothing happened last night, so I acted accordingly. 

Cheers and praises flooded the arena as soon as Sukuna's anthem began booming over the speakers. Even though it was the last fight of the night, this was just starting. The sound mitigated with every step we took upon the intimidating octagon where Naoya was waiting for us after making his grand entrance. I was so nervous I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment, but I had to stay strong. This was not the time to act like a coward. 

The referee checked Sukuna's gloves and body for sandbags or anything out of place. During the inspection, Sukuna gave me a serious glare. He looked so calm for someone who was about to be locked in a cage to fight another beast his size. I had interrupted Naoya's lucky ritual and helped him perform his luck ritual successfully. He was sure he was going to win, but he couldn't let his guard down. 

Sukuna stepped onto the big stage and jogged around the perimeter so that everyone could admire his greatness. Naoya instead of watching him to analyze his opponent, was focused on me. His eyes were looking at me through the black fence, conveying a message I did not want to decipher. Sukuna had to beat him if I didn't want him to escape from the cage and lock me in his clutches. I gulped hard as soon as the referee approached them to give them the basic rules. It was time. I closed my eyes to pray to all the deities of the constellations, crossed my fingers and prayed that Sukuna's sign was lucky today. 

The bell rang and the first round began. People shouted in anticipation as the lion engaged the cheetah in a dangerous dance for dominance. As we had planned, Sukuna was taking his time with him. He was waiting for our common enemy to feel comfortable enough to approach him. Naoya took the bait as he slammed in on him with a pair of jabs, he was going right at his jaw to end the fight. “He looks different,” I thought as I watched him attack Sukuna without hesitation. He was desperate to win as fast as possible, even if that meant throwing away all his energy in the first round. 

Everything was being decided by boxing in the first two rounds, so far, we were going according to plan. Sukuna was like a fish in water, dodging every punch he landed and landing a couple of jabs that connected perfectly with his body, while Naoya struggled to take him down. There was a minute left in the third round when Naoya knocked Sukuna down with a spinning kick. The cheetah turned into a dangerous boa that attached itself to his body mercilessly. Its legs wrapped around his waist to put him in a neck lock. Sukuna tried to pull away from the cheetah's grip with hopeless punches and kicks, but Naoya wasn't about to let it go so easily. 

“Hold on, Sukuna!” I yelled in desperation amidst the howls of the fans. 

I looked at the clock hoping that the seconds would pass quickly, but it felt like an eternity. Sukuna was pushing away with difficulty the arm that chained his neck to keep from fainting. My eyes were on the verge of tears, the champion could not lose, not today. 

The bell rang, and the fighters walked away. I sighed in relief and rushed up to the octagon with Gojo and Yuuji to assist him in the break. Gojo put ice on his shoulder and Yuuji gave him water. 

“Change of plans. We must go to the floor,” I said. 

“What?” Sukuna asked me, taking off his mouth guard. 

“Naoya is desperate. He wants to win at any cost, it seems that this time he doesn't want to leave it to the judges. This is your chance to use his attacks against him,” I explained, but Sukuna didn't seem to be convinced. 

“I agree. He is fighting differently from before. Use your legs, they are longer than his,” Gojo intervened. With that, Sukuna nodded before the next round was announced by a beautiful ring girl. 

Naoya's eyes were on me as he prepared for the next round. I returned her gaze in kind, I wasn't going to let him bully me just because. The bell announced the fourth round and my eyes returned to Sukuna. After a back and forth of punches and low kicks, Naoya went straight at him. Naoya knocked him down, pushing him by the shoulders. Sukuna fell backwards with a loud thud. This time, time wasn't going to stop him. I had seen this attack before. 

“Push him with your legs!” I yelled so he could hear me as I ran around the perimeter of the octagon to get a better angle on the attack. 

Sukuna understood what I meant. With the inertia of Naoya's attack, Sukuna pushed him by the abdomen. I thought he would push him away, instead, he grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up to have him at his mercy for a couple of seconds in the air. I could see Naoya's eyes as he realized he had screwed up. Sukuna threw him to turn him like a helicopter propeller to put his leg between his arms and whip him against the floor. He caged him between his legs and kept pulling him by his limb to keep Naoya in a headlock. 

“Sukuna…” I mumbled in shock. 

Naoya was hitting him by the legs while trying to free his trapped arm. The referee was asking Naoya to get out of it quickly, or he was going to call the fight over. Time paused again as the scene unfolded before me. A king demonstrating his power to a rebellious knight. I no longer heard the people, nor my team, nor my thoughts. It was just my eyes taking in the facts, tasting those uncertain moments. 

Naoya was completely trapped, so the referee announced the end of the fight. I caught my breath and came back to my senses at the decision. Sukuna broke away from Naoya and slowly stood up to regain his posture. He looked at me through the fence and gave me a slight smirk. “Mothafucker did it,” I thought before a tear of happiness slipped down my cheek. We had won, I was free and the champion proved himself the best once again. 

I met up with the team to go up to the octagon to celebrate the victory. I moved through the crowd to give him a sweaty bear hug. I wanted to congratulate him, and thank him for giving his best as always, but I was so happy the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I could only cry of joy on his shoulder. 

“Stop crying like a bitch,” he whispered between chiding teeth as he wiped my face with the towel around his neck. 

“Can’t I be happy?!” I scolded him between sniffles. 

“You're humiliating me. I can't have a crybaby of a trainer,” he complained. 

“I'm not...!”

My eyes popped open as soon as Sukuna connected his lips with mine in a sweet kiss in front of everyone. My cheeks turned the color of his hair and my heart started beating like crazy from shock. It was not a passionate kiss as he usually kisses me in the secrecy of his ritual, it was a tender touch in the middle of an octagon full of fighters and cameras watching us. Our lips didn't last more than 5 seconds connected, but it felt like it lasted an eternity. 

The sharp sound of something metallic woke me up from the moment. Naoya had hit Sukuna in the head with his metal water bottle before anyone could stop him. The arena gasped in shock at the unsportsmanlike attitude. Team Zenin pulled him back before he could land another misplaced blow. Yuuji, Gojo and Nanami lashed out at him and his coach for not being able to control their athlete. 

“How dare you kiss what's mine?! Let’s get back together, y/n!” Naoya screamed in a tantrum as he tried to break free from the grip of his teammates. 

“Are you okay?” I asked Sukuna worriedly as I put some ice on his bump. 

“Yes, I feel better now,” he said with a proud smile as he watched Naoya in emotional agony. 

“Naoya Zenin will appear before the official UFC committee for lack of discipline and unsportsmanlike attitude tomorrow afternoon for his actions after tonight's fight, but there are already rumors that he will be suspended for more than 5 years from all events,” The commentator announced. 

Team Black howled with joy at the news. My heart had finally calmed down after drinking a nice beer and chatting for a while with Yuuji and Megumi at the same bar we came last time. My mind was finally resting at peace after Sukuna beat up Naoya and explained to Nanami that the kiss had only been to get Naoya off her nerves. “Relax, that kiss didn't mean anything, it was just part of the strategy,” I thought as I remembered how intense that unexpected contact felt. 

“Aren't you supposed to be with the Zenins? Aren't they family?” I asked Megumi curiously to distract my mind from the strong palpitations of my passionate heart. 

“More or less. My father was kicked out of the dojo as soon as he challenged my uncle Naobito and beat him. The family could not bear such a breach of family honor,” Megumi explained, not caring at all about the incident. “I never thought that Sukuna could lift Naoya with his body, it was really incredible. Did you teach him that move?” He asked me before taking a sip of her beer. 

I looked briefly at Sukuna who was chatting pleasantly with Nanami on the other side of the table. Quickly, he noticed that I was watching him. I turned around in time so that he wouldn't think I had been watching him for a long time and that we had only connected casual glances. “Why am I thinking like a lovesick teenager?”, I scolded myself.

“I didn't know he could do that either,” I agreed, to which Megumi looked at me strangely.

After a stressful day and a couple of drinks to counteract the body ailment. I said goodbye to everyone and set out to head home under the midnight stars. I smiled to myself as I replayed in my mind how Sukuna had cornered Naoya against the canvas. The sound of his bare back impacting hard played in my mind on loop. It had been a lousy day, but an incredible night I would never forget. 

“Where are you going?” someone asked behind me. I could recognize Sukuna's voice anywhere in the world. 

“Home, to rest,” I answered as I faced him fully. Why had he followed me? Whatever the reason, we were alone on the sidewalk, it was the right time to tell him how I felt. “You did amazing tonight, thank you very much.” 

“I just did my job, I didn't do it for you,” he said with that serious tone I knew so well by now, he purposely made it sound like he was annoyed. 

“I know you didn't do it for me, but I still want you to know that I owe you one,” I joked.

He didn't hesitate to approach me, I thought he would give me a hug or another kiss, so I just froze in place. Instead, he just handed me a silver key with a Team Black keychain on it. I inspected it carefully as I twirled it between my fingers. 

“You are going to live with me, starting tonight,” he announced as if it was nothing. 

“What?! Why?!” I was really confused.

“Naoya will probably be suspended from the UFC tomorrow and have to pay a stupidly expensive fine. Guess who he's going to blame for that,” I explained. 

“You?” I really didn't want to blame myself right now. 

“Do you really think he'd try to come near me after I beat him up on the ring? And I was fighting under the rules,” Sukuna smiled proud of himself for his performance in the fight. 

“Naoya promised me that...". 

“Naoya promised you that he would love you forever and not hurt you and look where you are. Just because you're innocent doesn't mean you're stupid,” Sukuna interrupted me and then turned his back to me. “You better be home by the time I get back,” he demanded before going back to the bar.

“Hey! Sukuna! What about my stuff?!” I shouted for him to stop, but he ignored me and walked into the bar without saying anything else. 

I stood still on the sidewalk while my fingers caressed the keychain. How could someone be so nice and scary at the same time? It was obvious that Sukuna wanted me to be safe, but the way he did it felt like he was doing me a favor instead of actually wanting to help me. “He wants to protect me,” I thought as I realized what he was doing. My heart skipped a beat even though he was no longer in my presence and my cheeks dyed pink just thinking about him. 

“Sukuna sure is a strange man…” I thought out loud as I went on my way to the penthouse. 

Even though I had entered his home before, I couldn't help but be surprised as I walked down the huge carpeted hallway. I arrived in the immense living room that shared the professional kitchen, the 12-person wooden dining room and the contemporary living room surrounded by huge windows that allowed me to see the entire city glowing in the dark night. What it's like to have all the money in the world. 

“I think I'll sleep in the guest room,” I said aloud to test the echo of my new home. “First I must find the guest room,” I planned as I looked at the maze I would be living in.

I avoided the entrance doors because I knew that one of them was Sukuna's room, so I had to go up to the second floor. When I got to the top, I could see through the large windows the indoor pool on the first floor, the bar with karaoke and the small zen garden that divided the rooms. “What songs will he like to sing,” I wondered curiously as I continued my search for my room. A little smile escaped my lips as I imagined Sukuna singing Single Ladies by Beyoncé.

I had finally found the guest room. It had a king-size bed with beige sheets, a small couch to watch TV, its own bathroom and a large empty closet. I dropped my backpack on the small white couch and headed for bed. Before I could throw myself out of exhaustion, I noticed a Victoria's Secret bag at the foot of the bed. My eyes widened as I realized the real reason Sukuna wanted me to come to his house. 

“That fucker is planning to fuck me tonight!” I exclaimed, offended. 

I couldn't believe it, I was really stupid for thinking that Sukuna wanted to protect me. I had escaped from the Zenin just to face a Ryomen. I am so naive for thinking he was different, but he was just another disgusting man who can't see women as equals. I really wanted him to be different. He only fucked me twice, and he already assumes he can do it whenever he wants. I wasn't going to let him. 

I took the things out of the bag to throw it in the trash, but stopped when I saw that it wasn't lingerie, it was a full set of satin pajamas. White pajamas with pink stripes in my size. I covered my face with it from embarrassment. I had misjudged Sukuna, he sure bought me pajamas after I fell asleep naked in his bed the night before. I took off my clothes to put on the soft and comfortable pajamas, they fit me like a glove. I smiled like a fool when I saw myself in the mirror. 

“How cute…" I thought out loud before throwing myself on the bed comfortably. 

Oh.

Quickly, I realized what I had said and stood still, staring at the white glitter ceiling. Did I just say Sukuna was cute? No, he couldn't be. He is a rude, selfish, impatient, serious, self-confident, independent, disciplined, strong, handsome, rich man... I couldn't fall in love with him. I was his trainer, his co-worker. I couldn't like him because he has an amazing body, takes care of me even if he doesn't want to admit it, and kisses me like no one else ever has, right? Right?! 

Oh.

I was in trouble.

Masterlist.

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[bunnyinfoxclothing]

Obedient Exorcists Part 2

Part 1 | (you are here) | Coming soon eventually!

Vaggie is happy with who she has become. She genuinely likes the push and pull relationship that she and Charlie have. Except the extermination days still get in the way.

Old orders are hard to disregard. She sits there and pretends the sounds don't bother her. Except that's not true. They bother her. And Charlie knows they bother her. And Charlie wraps her in a blanket and holds her, whispering sweet nothings.

Charlie remembers the day she found Vaggie. And knows the trauma is still real, but Vaggie does so well, despite the trauma. She goes outside all the time. Has no issues with the location of her injury, both on her body and in the alleyway. Charlie will ask if she wants to go on a walk and Vaggie can't say yes fast enough.

Vaggie is still obedient.

And on extermination day when she is shivering in Charlie's arms. It's not fear, but in innate need, she wants to go outside. Wants to see her sisters, show she can still do her job, but Charlie says stay inside. And against her oldest orders. Against the actions ingrained into her very creation. She listens. Charlie says let me hold you. So she does. Charlie says it's going to be okay. But she doesn't believe her.

When the truth of her angelic heritage comes to pass. Charlie makes a mistake. She doesn't realize the creature of obedience and the chains that Vaggie has tied between them, born of pain and self blame. She doesn't realize that she holds the very leash that holds Vaggie down. The leash that Vaggie handed over the same day she found the moth sinner left for dead in the alley. Before any true trust could be formed.

Charlie tells Vaggie she doesn't want to see her.

It's a moment of high emotion. Charlie is crying and trying to run to their room as Vaggie struggles to explain. Stuttering over herself, looking for the right answer. The right order of things to say to Charlie. What Charlie wants her to say. Anything.

And like a switch was flipped, she just stops. She lets Charlie go. Her jaw snaps shut with an audible click at Charlie's words and she watches as Charlie escapes, not moving until the audible slam of their shared door.

Vaggie doesn't do anything. She decides she has put her emotions too far into things. Just like with the boy. She let her heart rule over her obedience and it has messed everything up. So she decides orders are the only thing that matter from here on out.

She doesn't eat until the other residents knock on her door telling her they made food.

Her door because she no longer shares on with Charlie. Her door, because she had to go to Husk to get a new room key. Her door, because after a single night, she opens the door to find Dazzle with a suitcase full of clothes and basic hygiene products.

She doesn't sleep until someone points out her eye bags. She doesn't shower until Angel practically drags her into the nearest bathroom.

Look Vagina, if you're going to go through a fuckin' depressive episode with your girlfriend, promise me you will at least shower twice a week. And I swear to fuck if at any point I can smell you, I'm grabbing the kitchen scrub and i'm going to see how long it takes to skin an angel.

Showering becomes her only constant.

Then there's the deal.

Vaggie watches as green cracks form in the walls. Her heart sinks as she watches strange sigils appear in the air. She feels Husk stiffen next to her and hears the string of curses that leave Angel's lips.

Vaggie has failed totally and completely in every way.

Every vow she had made to protect Charlie, both physically and emotionally. Everything. Her smiles. Her dreams. Their relationship. She had vowed to protect Charlie in her purest form, her soul.

Vaggie runs in. Because despite everything. Despite every vow she's made, despite what the very fibers of what her soul is made of. She still isn't good at obeying.

Charlie and her lock eyes.

She's prepared to face Alastor. Her spear is light in her hands and righteous fury burns in her chest. One more kill means nothing in that moment.

But Charlie stops her.

And the look Charlie gives her changes everything.

Charlie has always been taller than her, but Vaggie knows this is the first time Charlie has ever looked down at her. She is left rooted in place as Charlie follows after Alastor. And for once, she keeps her mouth shut as to how much she distrusts him.

___

Charlie has sent her to the angel killer. Carmilla Carmine.

Charlie has judged her. And just like Lute. Just Like Adam. Just like all of Heaven. They all agreed. Vaggie is not enough.

So Vaggie walks her death march across the pentagon. She spends her time looking back on her whole life. Every mistake she's ever made. And by the time she gets to Carmine Industries she feels calm about her own death.

She has a soft smile as she knocks on the door with all the gusto that Charlie has grown to love. Demanding an audience with Carmilla. If she is going to die, she wants to go with a smirk on her face. If she has to face judgement again, she wants to have this very same courage again. Courage to give them the middle finger and walk backwards into hell. So she could continue to serve Charlie as a sinner. So she can continue to serve Charlie in a body that is more appealing.

Except she doesn't die. And Vaggie is almost offended. Almost angry. She is beaten and knocked around and she can feel the laughter of people she can't see. People that she's not sure are even real.

She takes the bruises. And is gifted her wings. She feels the weight of them on her back and can only feel disgust. Carmilla invites her back for another lesson, whenever she is free. Vaggie accepts, though in her head, there is nowhere else she would rather not be.

With the knowledge of how to kill angels and with Carmilla filling out the paperwork for their order, Vaggie considers using the solitude to ground herself permanently.

All it would take was a quick slice and nobody would know. Charlie would never know. All she would have to do is lie to her.

Guilt twists in her heart, screaming at herself for the thought ever crossing her mind.

Carmilla's daughters and a few of their workers help to bring all of the weapons to the Hotel.

She tucks her wings as far into her back as she can, she feels a slight tension at the action. Then it feels like a pulled muscle. Then like a bone on the verge of being snapped. Then it feels all too familiar and her wings spread to a more comfortable position.

She hopes she has enough time, to get back to the hotel.

As she reaches the entrance, she knows she's not so lucky.

[tiajk]

Zoro & Luffy (OPLA) reacting to you having severe daddy issues

A/n: Sorry guys i Felt a little angsty today and i put a little too much of my daddy issues into this lmao

Masterlist

Headcannons version (Not ready yet)

Plot: Basically reader is stressing about going back home because of her father because he's a shit head

Warnings; Terrible father, Anxiety attacks, Cursing,

LUFY; He knows a little bit more about your past than the rest; he's your captain; he takes that as his responsibility. So when he saw your entire expression change when nami said the next place they would dock was your home island he was worried . He wanted to talk to you about it but Usopp needed his attention.Later’ he told himself that he'd go into your room. Later he actually arrived when you heard a sudden knock at your door it caught you by surprise. When you opened it you expected to see nami or sanji but not Luffy he had a plate in his hand ‘Damn I missed dinner’. You looked at luffy in the eye and he had his serious expression “{Name} Could we talk?”. your heart drops to your stomach, you had prayed that no one would ask you that 4 letter question, you created your throat “Mhm- yea come in” He takes slow footsteps as he looks around your room looking for a place to set down the food he settled for the nightstand. He takes a seat on your bed while patting the space next to him. You go but reluctantly “What’s the problem captain” Luffy not one for beating around the bush and he wouldn’t do it right now “Is there something in your hometown that you fear {Name}?” You feel tears try to escape your eyes when you blink rapidly. You think about lying but it's Luffy he would find out anyways “Yes their is' '. He perks up at this “Well whatever it is i'm all ears.” so you spill everything along with you crying in the process. When you finished everything there were two things on Luffy's mind: How he was gonna kill this bastard and you didn't deserve any of that. you except luffy to say something but he doesn’t he use uts his straw hat onto you and hugs you and you basically jump into his arms and cry some more and he doesn’t complain he knows you need this and who is he to take this away from you “Shit i got my tears all over your shirt” After you separate from the hug “It’s ok i have more” You smile at him and he returns the favor. He gets off your bed and walks to the door “wait where are you going?” “Telling nami that we need to change where we’re docking”

ZORO; He never really knew about your past no one on the crew did. So when he found you crying in your room trying to stay silent it broke his heart. He didn't say anything as you tried to wipe your tears away from your red eyes. He just closed the door behind him and sat besides you in the corner of your room. He saw that you were shaking uncontrollably. He doesn't do emotions well but he would learn for you. He noticed you tried to speak but your voice but nothing went out “You don’t have to say anything {name}”. you looked at him in the eyes for the first time since he saw you “Thank you” Your voice was lower than a whisper only letting his ears hear it. You try to stand but you do it too quickly causing you to fast it causes you to fall back but zoro catches you “Let’s get you sat down ok” He carried you bridal style onto your bed laying you down gently. He goes to leave but you grab his wrist “Dont go please” He sees you silently pleading in your eyes so he stays he crawls into the bed with you he has you lay your head on his chest “Ro can I tell you what happened” “You don't have to” “I just need someone to talk to about it” He puts his full attention on you nothing else has his attention. So when you tell him everything His heart is hurting but angry No human deserves any of that “Do you feel better?” You nod at him “But tired” He gently grabs your face making you look at him “Sleep I’ll be here when you wake up” In zoro’s mind he was gonna kill that asshole

[slippinninque]

🖇️Special Directives 💼

You get a sudden promotion

Lloyd Hansen x BlackFemReader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ cursing, Lloyd being Lloyd, frazzled!reader, power imbalance (boss/assistant), soft!dark!Lloyd, looong fic, mentions of sex, maybe some mistakes (secret-at work-post 🫣)

This was bad. It was really bad.

You followed your boss's every move, barely tasting the orange juice you sipped. It felt like waking up in a mirror-verse with the way Lloyd was carrying on.

You'd think he wouldn't know how to turn on the stove or be willing to use a spatula with how bougie he could be, but he still managed to surprise you in your years-long commitment.

Lloyd caught you trying to sneak out of the suite in nothing but the silk robe you treated yourself to when the jet first touched down.

Lloyd wrestled you into a chair and swapped your robe for his. He kissed the top of your head and resumed making breakfast as if his ass wasn't hanging out from the bottom of a silken cherry-blossom setting.

No issue for him, of course.

No. You had all the issues, as usual, leaving him to focus fully on being a menace to his full capacity. That's literally what Mr. Charmichal told you when he hired you himself to be Lloyd Hansen's personal assistance out of his own staff.

"Whatever you do, just don't fuck him."

Which should an easy feat as the man was 6'foot-something of mayhem and violent tendencies. You made it work.

The pay was more than good for someone with nowhere else to go. You pressed forward with spite. Kept up with impossible demands, managed to be at hand, and whittled down your boundaries to basically nothing.

You asked for nothing more than to do your job. Which included the schedule.

There was lines never to be crossed. Knocking down an exclusive seating arrangement for a last-minute booty call was abhorrent. Even for a professional sociopath.

That one little adjustment sent all your other hard work into the toilet. Consultations, dinner reservations, promised appearances--askew. Some never to appear again for months.

It happened so fast. You were pissed that he had the nerve to even touch his schedule when you finally had everything squared away for the next two weeks.

You touched down in Paris and were ushered into waiting vans. Ride to the base, swanky hotel from what you could peep before you were ushered into the pent house along with your luggage.

You found out about the tampered calendar when you were unpacking and when you called Lloyd, you were sent to voicemail.

Fucking voicemail.

Just when you were about to start blowing his phone up, the fucker appeared at the front door of your suite and asked why hadn't his luggage been unpacked yet.

It got worse when he brushed off your concerns in favor to be an absolute man-child and throwing a tantrum when his date cancelled on him a for strep throat. It explains why he ditched his room for yours.

The anger of being ran ragged in such a beautiful place, being told to make Lloyd a drink as he didn't 'feel like walking down to the bar'. As if you wouldn't spend the rest of the day unpacking you both.

The horniness of being unlaid for nearly 2 years because you just didn't have the time and there was Lloyd talking up under your clothes as if you were trash.

You snapped.

It was one thing to defy and talk back to your boss, he liked that shit. You suspected your mouth is what kept you alive this long, afterall.

It was another to get physical with him.

And lord did ya’ll get physical.

Which brings you back to yourself. What the fuck did you do?

As Lloyd whistled and strutted around the kitchen space, your handy work was visible from there you sat. His normally polished appearance was nowhere to be seen. Hair ruffled and waved, hanging about his face and he didn't seem so....puffed up.

With all that aside, there was Lloyd Hansen barefoot and making you breakfast.

“We need to talk, Mr. Hansen.”

“Oh and we will, Buttercup,” Lloyd purred as he came over a plate heavy with delicious food, “But first, how ‘bout we put something in that sweet little tummy of yours.”

You watched him as he watched you. His eyes were crinkled and blue, sparkling as you took a deep breath.

“I quit.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do—don’t do this. I crossed a line last night, I shouldn't have done that to you."

You gasped when he fluttered your robe, showcasing a nasty bite mark right over his left nipple. A hand reached out but you snatched it back, head reeling as the memory washed over you.

“Play hard to get all you want, too late for shit now.” He grinned wolfishly at you, "You made me all yours."

"That was a mistake!" You blurted before reeling it in at the sight of his brows raising, "All I'm saying, sir, is that this is not a good idea to continue on any further. So...I think it's best for me to, uh..."

Lloyd's tongue poked through his cheek and his stare was steady.

You rolled your eyes down to your food. Fluffy pancakes and stripes of crispy bacon, vibrant cheese eggs and even some chopped fruit. You delicately bit into a juicy strawberry, the sudden taste shocking your stomach into hunger.

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Hansen--

Lloyd groaned and leaned back into his chair, “Don’t tell me we’re back to that, sweetcheeks! Call me what you called me last night, won’t you?”

Heat flushed through you but you began cutting into your pancakes to give your hands something to do.

“I called you a lot of things last night, Mr. Hansen. Some more derogatory than others…which only proves my point of this being very inappropriate.”

“My personal favorite was--

“Sir.”

He surprisingly, shut his mouth though the chesire grin remained. You were stunned. Only last week he casually threatened to string you up by the hair when his coffee courier was late.

Now he cooked you pancakes and was...and was…

“What is it exactly that you’re thinking about,” your curiosity ran over your protocol, “Honestly. Nothing like this has never…came up?”

Lloyd tilted his head at you and leaned forward a bit as if to tell you a secret, “Had a little epiphany while I was visiting heaven last night, a moment of realization!”

"Sir--"

"You take such good care of me, don't you? Aside from the boring shit like dry cleaning and dental appointments--now I real a wonderful reason to promote you!"

"A...promotion, sir? For being inappropriate?"

"For that lil' slice of Eden you got squeezed down there! Naughty girl, you're supposed to tell me about all your talents."

You felt your brow pop up before you can stop it.

"What am I being promoted to exactly?"

Lloyd clapped his hands and spread out his arms as if a confetti cannon would follow, "Congrats, baby, you've been promoted to being my lady!"

Silence. You stared at him, your plate, the ceiling and then back to him. Lloyd sat back and crossed his legs as if he were waiting for your celebration. Instead, you rubbed your forehead in an attempt to restart your brain.

"You can't --thats not a thing. That's not a thing, Mr. Hansen."

"Oh, it's a thing alright. A pretty little thing, a soft and tasty thing that I'm not gonna let go of. So, time to lay down some new ground rules."

Too fast, too fast--reel it in...

You held up your hands and gentled your tone, "I'm not your type, Mr. Hansen. So what am I going to do when it gets boring for you? Why spend all that time building your play book with those very beautiful and very qualified ladies?"

Lloyd waved the thought away and appeared a piece of bacon,"Dissolve it. It was gettin' stale anyway."

"Dissol--these ladies are not in a band! They have contacts stronger than concrete! Do you know how long it took me to figure out a fair rotation for them all?"

"Aw, I'm shocked you care! Shouldn't you be happy that you have it all to yourself now?"

"I care about my job, Mr. Hansen. Which is why we shouldn't engage any further if I want to do it correctly."

Lloyd held up a finger to stop you from going further,

"All I'm adding are a few more duties to your ledger, no biggie. Think of them as...special directives. Just a few more ways to properly take care of your old man, that's all..."

You closed your eyes to reign in the thoughts spinning in your head. Lloyd was being serious as he listed a fresh list of ridiculous demands.

He was being 1,000 % serious about you being his. You options cowered in your mind because they all knew they didn't mean shit to the hungry-eyed man before you.

Still, you had to try. As you unfolded and folded your unused lap napkin, you stood slowly from the table.

"Again, very flattered, um. I'm going to submit my little resignation letter thing to Mr. Charmicheal so you won't even have to worry about it..."

Lloyd stood from the table with enough force that the silverware startled. You were caught before you could bolt. Lloyd pulled you to be skin to skin.

"Cut the shit, Sweetcheeks. I'll make it clear for you to understand."

He smooshed your cheeks together and gave you an obnoxious kiss, making you whine.

"I am all you have, Little Ms. Perfect. You made it that way. You injected me in every aspect of your boring little life." He spoke in a familiar tone then, confident if not a little mocking as he looked down at you.

"I see you can't be without me," Lloyd pressed your foreheads together as he took a deep breath, "You think I can allow any men to be around you? They won't know how to handle you. I won't let them to learn."

"Mr. Hansen, please."

"Mmnh. Definitely don't want anyone hearing that from you." Lloyd's kiss was soft to your cheek, unmoving despite your pushing against his chest.

"I won't let them learn how good you smell when you're melted and warm. Or how you cry for it when you don't get your way..."

You squirmed and snapped, "I was sensitive..."

Lloyd sat you back down into your seat and then knelt down, being close enough that your thighs remained parted. He gave a dreamy look to your pussy before looking up at you, taking one of your hands to rub his cheek.

"There it is," he purred, "Underneath all that 'no, Mr. Hansen' and 'what about protocol, Mr. Hansen' is the needy little thing that gnawed me to the bone. Too afraid of having fun..."

He let you snatch your hand away to cover your face, only using his free hands to run fingers across and down your thighs. Oh God, why was it working? His tone, it was too much like the spiced tone he had while neatly folding your legs behind your head.

It made you feel buzzy under your skin. Lloyd hands went from your thighs tapping a lazy beat down to your knees, his eyes skimming the exposed line of skin from your untied robe as he continued listing the new "directives".

You had off days and off hours now. Massages were to be provided once a day, rather the every-other-day routine that was established. You were to provide his stylist with your measurements and be on the watch for a bank card to be used for your upkeep.

By the time he was finished listing all of the changes coming your way, his hands worked you up into a trembling mess.

"I found clarity right here," Lloyd parted the fabric of the robe that covered your pussy and your hands went to his shoulders. Confusion melted with arousal as he stared between your legs. The more he touched you and the more of his voice fell over you, a tone he's never used with you...

It was too late, wasn't it?

The walls were down. Gone. Decimated the moment he touched you. The writing was on the wall, now. Bigger and louder than any flattery that was coming from his mouth.

There was only none thing to do...

"Fine. I accept the position, Mr. Hansen." You tested your luck and put a hand over his mouth when he went to speak. Lloyds eyes flashed, but smiled at you as he waited.

"I have some conditions of my own. I would like a promised transfer to a department of my choice when you get bored."

He rolled his eyes and shook you off, a new wave of energy thrumming as he registered his victory.

"Yeah, sure, fine." He rushed as he readjusted to sit back on his haunches, "Can I have some now?"

Unreal. You snorted, the humor of the situation rearing it's head. The flames were already licking at your feet, why not jump into the whole thing?

Putting your legs on top of his shoulders, your heart hammered as you relaxed fully into the chair. Allowing a nipple to peer out to say hello to her newest, biggest fan as you purred.

"You can if you put the schedule back the way I had it."

Lloyd's expression smoothed and before you could save yourself, you were picked up and spread out on the table. Yelping as a few dishes fell and shattered, you changed your mind and snapped the robe around you tight.

"Wait, slow down!"

Lloyd wrestled with the robe tangled about you and you didn't help, flailing a leg and pushing at him to scoot further up the table. The racket was insane but the thrill of a new deal crawled up your spine.

Maybe it was the lingering hangover or maybe it was the sight of Lloyd in a teeny ooo-wow-wow robe as he hunted for pussy like a madman. Either way, giggles spilled out of you and Lloyd huffed a laugh of his own.

"Keep it up, Chuckles." Lloyd licked his lips as he finally found your center, "I'll have you in stitches when I'm done with you."

"Not every sexy to say, Mr. Hansen, don't like it."

He paused his descent to glower at you, "Getting real sick of that Mr. Hansen shit."

"You'll be Lloyd it's appropriate to be Lloyd." You sniffed, bringing up your legs to bracket around him. His hackles lowered and he hummed, opening your robe to find a beautiful brown center.

His stare was electric, reaching down to part your wettned petals and savoring your mewl.

"You got it all wrong, Sweetcheeks. I'm shootin' for Daddy..."

His smile was downright devilish before he began putting you to work...

-----

Waking to the sound of thunder, you stared up at the ceiling for a while.

You were feeling a bit... better about the arrangement.

Lloyd was still asleep and you took in his slack face. He snored softly in his sleep, fingers twitching every so often where they held onto the thigh you threw across him in your slumber.

Strange. You didn't know he snored.

Your eyes lingered on those lips and recalled the promises and coaxing that fell from them. You bit them cherry red and you can still hear how he moaned under you, pressing your hand into the bite mark on his chest and coming undone.

You'll give it to him, Lloyd was a generous lover. Overly generous if anything, but it was a problem you didn't mind having.

After wriggling free, you went to the bathroom to freshen up and take inventory of the dark-berry hickirs and bruises left in Lloyd's wake.

We're in it now, girl.

Your reflection smiled wryly back. You were done as soon as you accepted a position with Hansen Government Services.

Lloyd was sitting up in bed when you returned, cracking an eye open to give you an appreciative one over before shifting back down into the bed. Had he waited for you to return?

"Order something if you're hungry but right now, it's time to play pillow."

Doing as you were told and going back to bed, you wriggled under him as much as you could before he swept you fully into his arms.

It was still surreal. To have this man hanging off of you and kneading what he could reach like a favored plushie. Beneath the haze of pleasure, your mind wandered to all the ways you could make this work.

"Don't forget, we have brunch in few hours--

You could absolutely spin this. The grin spread across your face as the possibilities of your situation unfurled.

Lloyd hushed you pulled until you were fully beneath him. Back to ceiling watching, you felt him begin to relax. You ran a hand up and down his back, feeling the welts and thinking of the aloe you stashed in your personal care kit.

"Aht, aht, pillows don't talk..."

Sleep waved at the edges of your vision and you felt yourself being pulled down further, as always, right alongside with Mr. Hansen.

-------

ending notes: pheeeeew this was fun and scary to do! I think I need more time to get a hold of my Lloyd, but I'm gonna do more of these!! This one may need an edit, lmao Drop a comment and reblog, tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading!! 🙏🏾😊💝

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma@ellethespaceunicorn

[daytaker]

Can I request a fic where MC is sort of a pathological liar? and they lie about stuff that ultimately doesn't matter, but they can't help it? Also, if it could be Mammon x mc centric that would be amazing, but it doesn't have to be. I love your writing!! bye bye

POV: You are cldhart08. You forgot you sent this to me. Two full months later, you get a notification that daytaker replied to your ask.

Pants on Fire

Ships: (Lowkey) Mammon/Reader, Beel & Reader Word Count: ~1.1k CW: lying (general), lying about medical conditions, bullying Mammon

So you're a bit of a liar.

"I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. I wasn't breathing or anything, and my dad actually fainted.

...Or a lot of a liar.

"Did you know my second cousin actually dated Selena Gomez for awhile?"

One might even go so far as to call your lying 'pathological'.

"I actually have a severe tree nut allergy, so I'll pass on that. Thanks though."

There was never any logic to it. The lies just came out. You never felt guilty about it, because no one got hurt. So there wasn't really anything to worry about, right?

Wrong.

You sit on the floor outside of Mammon's room, hugging your knees, when a big, hulking form slumps down the wall onto the floor beside you.

"Oh... Hey, Beel," you say. You're not even trying to pretend as if nothing's wrong.

"Hello." He looks at Mammon's door, then at you. "Did you knock?"

You sigh, then demonstrate to Beel what happens when you knock on Mammon's door. A muffled voice comes from inside.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," you reply.

"I already told you! If you're a scummy, lyin' human, you can go eat nuts for all I care! I'm never talkin' to you again so you might as well stop wastin' both our times!"

"He's talking to you now," Beel points out, and it's hard to argue with his logic.

"Who the hell was that? Beel? Fine, then I'll only talk to you to tell you to fluff off, how's that?"

You rub your eyes tiredly and Beel leans in a little, speaking lower so Mammon can't hear him. "If you just leave, he'll come looking for you in about ten or twenty minutes."

"If I leave, he's going to think I'm not sorry." Hugging your knees, you shake your head. "I am sorry."

"Is this about the thing at the student council meeting and the nuts?"

You shudder at the memory.

----

You hadn't even thought about it at the time.

You never particularly liked nuts. Almonds, cashews, walnuts, chestnuts... not even peanuts outside their butter form. So when Mammon asked you why you declined to try a rather nut-heavy dish prepared by Barbatos himself, you simply told him you were allergic. "If I even get a whiff of them, my body goes into anaphylactic shock."

"What the hell's that?"

"Basically, my immune system goes haywire, and if I don't get the right kind of shot in the first few minutes, I'm a goner."

At the time, Mammon had seemed impressed by how close you skated to death, risking your life by casually allowing tree nuts to continue existing around you. And you? You'd enjoyed the brief attention.

At the time.

-----

That was weeks ago, so it was far from your mind as you accepted some human world trail mix from Beel while you sat, bored out of your wits, through another student council meeting. You picked out most of the nuts, of course, but in the end, you swallowed the imperfectly sorted handful.

And Mammon lost it.

"THERE WERE NUTS IN THAT!"

Diavolo, who had been in the middle of speaking, stuttered to a halt as everyone looked over to Mammon, who was simultaneously cradling you and screaming obscenities at an utterly bewildered Beelzebub. In the moment, you'd sort of frozen up and said nothing. Mammon...

Mammon was crying.

He was crying and yelling ridiculous instructions to everyone in the room and getting extremely angry when the others didn't seem to see what the issue was.

"They're gonna go into analgesic shock and die if we don't do somethin' fast! Do none of you bird brains get that?!"

He begged you to tell him how to get that shot you needed, that... what was it, an Apple Pen?

...It was several minutes before you were able to get the truth out.

Force the truth out, more like. Telling that truth made you almost wish you really had gone into anaphylactic shock. That seemed like an easier way to go than looking Mammon in the eye, in front of all his brothers and Diavolo, and explain that you didn't actually have that allergy. That you'd lied.

And of course, of course, the onus fell on Mammon for believing it.

Satan and Asmo sighed at how someone so stupid could function. Levi posted on Devilgram about how you'd epically trolled Mammon. Lucifer scolded Mammon for his overreaction, and Belphie just glowered at Mammon for waking him up with all his shrieking.

And you, you sort of...said nothing.

-----

"Ah," Beel says, nodding. "You feel bad that you made him look stupid."

"No," you groaned, frustrated at your inability to articulate exactly what it was that felt so off. "It's... He really thought I was going to die. I scared him. And then everyone treated him like a gullible idiot. So...I guess I made him look stupid, but..."

Beel stares at you. His expression is blank, but in a soft sort of way. It's oddly comforting.

"He got made into a laughing stock because I told him a lie, and he reacted to it....the way someone would react if they thought someone they really cared about was in danger. I feel guilty for lying and worrying him, and I feel worse that I just let everyone tear into him like always, when all he did was try to take care of me."

The door you're leaning against swings open behind you and you fall flat on your back in Mammon's doorway. The demon stares down at you with a mixture of righteous contempt and a flustered embarrassment that was so painfully typical of Mammon.

"Yeah! And you should feel guilty! You're a real asshole, ya know that?"

You blink up at him and offer a weak smile. "...Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

Mammon folds his arms. "You really think you can just come snivelin' up to me and beg for forgiveness, and I'll just hand it to ya?"

Beel looks between you and Mammon, watching the conversation unfold with the same mild interest he'd show while staring at a somewhat unimpressive exhibit at the zoo.

"...Well, today just so happens to be your lucky day," Mammon continues. "The Great Mammon, the big guy himself, has decided to forgive your tiny mortal soul for bein' a total jackass and liar. You're welcome. Don't expect it to happen again."

Still lying on your back, you grin at Mammon. "Thanks, Great Mammon."

The demon clears his throat and looks away. "Anyway. Our turn to make dinner tonight, so..." With that, he walked right past you and darted down the stairs.

Typical Mammon.

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 5

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐌 momentarily disoriented. Oh yes. I’m at The Heathman. The clock at my bedside says 7:43. When was the last time I slept this late?

Y/N.

Slowly I turn my head, and she’s fast asleep, facing me. Her beautiful face soft in repose. I have never slept with a woman. I’ve fucked many, but to wake up beside an alluring young woman is a new and stimulating experience. My cock agrees.

This will not do.

Reluctantly, I climb out of bed and change into my running gear. I need to burn off this…excess energy. As I change into my sweats I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well. In the living room, I fire up my laptop, check my e-mail, and respond to two from Ros and one from Andrea. It takes me a little longer than usual¸ as I’m distracted knowing that Y/N is asleep in the next room. I wonder how she’ll feel when she wakes.

Hungover. Ah.

In the minibar I find a bottle of orange juice and empty it into a glass. She’s still asleep when I enter, her hair a riot of mahogany spread across her pillow, and the covers have slipped below her waist. Her shirt has ridden up, exposing her belly and her navel. The sight stirs my body once more.

Stop standing here ogling the girl, for fuck’s sake, Grey.

I have to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Placing the glass on the bedside table, I duck into the bathroom, find two Advil in my travel kit, and deposit them beside the glass of orange juice.

With one last lingering look at Y/N Y/L/N—the first woman I’ve ever slept with—I head out for my run.

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When I return from my exercise, there’s a bag in the living room from a store I don’t recognize. I take a peek and see it contains clothes for Y/N. From what I can see, Taylor has done well—and all before 9:00. The man is a marvel.

Her purse is on the sofa where I dropped it last night, and the door to the bedroom is closed, so I assume she’s not left and that she’s still asleep.

It’s a relief. Poring over the room-service menu, I decide to order some food. She’ll be hungry when she wakes, but I have no idea what she’ll eat, so in a rare moment of indulgence I order a selection from the breakfast menu. I’m informed it will take half an hour.

Time to wake the delectable Miss Y/L/N; she’s slept enough.

Grabbing my workout towel and the shopping bag, I knock on the door and enter. To my delight, she’s sitting up in bed. The tablets are gone and so is the juice.

Good girl.

She pales as I saunter into the room.

Keep it casual, Grey. You don’t want to be charged with kidnapping.

She closes her eyes, and I assume it’s because she’s embarrassed.

“Good morning, Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I deserve,” she mutters, as I place the bag on the chair. When she turns her gaze to me her eyes are the most beautiful and though her hair is a tangled mess…she looks stunning.

“How did I get here?” she asks, as though she’s afraid of the answer.

Reassure her, Grey.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and stick to the facts. “After you passed out, I didn’t want to risk the leather upholstery in my car, taking you all the way to your apartment. So I brought you here.”

“Did you put me to bed?”

“Yes.”

“Did I throw up again?”

“No.” Thank God.

“Did you undress me?”

“Yes.” Who else would have undressed you?

She blushes, and at last she has some color in her cheeks. Perfect teeth bite down on her lip. I suppress a groan.

“We didn’t—?” she whispers, staring at her hands.

Christ, what kind of animal does she think I am? “Y/N, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing.” My tone is dry. “I like my women sentient and receptive.” She sags with relief, which makes me wonder if this has happened to her before, that she’s passed out and woken up in a stranger’s bed and found out he’s fucked her without her consent. Maybe that’s the photographer’s modus operandi. The thought is disturbing. But I recall her confession last night—that she’d never been drunk before. Thank God she hasn’t made a habit of this.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice full of shame.

Hell. Maybe I should go easy on her. “It was a very diverting evening. Not one that I’ll forget in a while.” I hope that sounds conciliatory, but her brow creases.

“You didn’t have to track me down with whatever James Bond gadgetry you’re developing for the highest bidder.”

Whoa! Now she’s pissed. Why?

“First, the technology to track cell phones is available over the Internet.” Well, the Deep Net…

“Second, my company does not invest or manufacture any kind of surveillance devices.” My temper is fraying, but I’m on a roll. “And third, if I hadn’t come to get you, you’d probably be waking up in the photographer’s bed, and from what I can remember, you weren’t overly enthused about him pressing his suit.”

She blinks a couple of times, then starts giggling. She’s laughing at me again.

“Which medieval chronicle did you escape from? You sound like a courtly knight.”

She’s beguiling. She’s calling me out…again, and her irreverence is refreshing, really refreshing. However, I’m under no illusion that I’m a knight in shining armor. Boy, has she got the wrong idea. And though it may not be to my advantage, I’m compelled to warn her that there’s nothing chivalrous or courtly about me.

“Y/N, I don’t think so. Dark knight, maybe.” If only she knew—and why are we discussing me? I change the subject. “Did you eat last night?” She shakes her head.

I knew it!

“You need to eat. That’s why you were so ill. Honestly, it’s drinking rule number one.”

“Are you going to continue to scold me?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“I think so.”

“You’re lucky I’m just scolding you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You didn’t eat, you got drunk, you put yourself at risk.” The fear in my gut surprises me; such irresponsible, risk-taking behavior. “I hate to think what could have happened to you.”

She scowls. “I would have been fine. I was with Bella.”

Some help she was!

“And the photographer?” I retort.

“José just got out of line,” she says, dismissing my concern and tossing her tangled hair over her shoulder.

“Well, the next time he gets out of line, maybe someone should teach him some manners.”

“You’re quite the disciplinarian,” she snaps.

“Oh, Y/N, you have no idea.”

An image of her; shackled to my bench, peeled gingerroot inserted in her ass so she can’t clench her buttocks, comes to mind, followed by judicious use of a belt or strap. Yeah…That would teach her not to be so irresponsible. The thought is hugely appealing.

She’s staring at me wide-eyed and dazed, and it makes me uncomfortable. Can she read my mind? Or is she just looking at a pretty face.

“I’m going to have a shower. Unless you’d like to shower first?” I tell her, but she continues to gape. Even with her mouth open she’s quite lovely. She’s hard to resist, and I grant myself permission to touch her, tracing the line of her cheek with my thumb. Her breath catches in her throat as I stroke her soft bottom lip.

“Breathe, Y/N,” I murmur, before I stand and inform her that breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes. She says nothing, her mouth silent for once.

In the bathroom I take a deep breath, strip, and climb into the shower. I’m half tempted to jerk off, but the familiar fear of discovery and disclosure, from an earlier time in my life, stops me.

Elena would not be pleased. Old habits.

As the water cascades over my head I reflect on my latest interaction with the challenging Miss Y/L/N. She’s still here, in my bed, so she cannot find me completely repulsive. I noticed the way her breath caught in her throat, and how her gaze followed me around the room.

Yeah. There’s hope.

But would she make a good submissive?

It’s obvious she knows nothing of the lifestyle. She couldn’t even say “fuck” or “sex” or whatever bookish college students use as a euphemism for fucking these days. She’s quite the innocent. She’s probably been subjected to a few fumbling encounters with boys like the photographer.

The thought of her fumbling with anyone irks me. I could just ask her if she’s interested.

No. I’d have to show her what she’d be taking on if she agreed to a relationship with me. Let’s see how we both fare over breakfast.

Rinsing off the soap, I stand beneath the hot stream and gather my wits for round two with Y/N. I switch off the water and, stepping out of the shower, grab a towel. A quick check in the steamed-up mirror and I decide to skip shaving today. Breakfast will be here shortly, and I’m hungry. Quickly I brush my teeth.

When I open the bathroom door she’s out of bed and searching for her jeans. She looks up like the archetypal startled fawn, all long legs and big eyes.

“If you’re looking for your skirt, I’ve sent it to the laundry.” She really has great legs. Her skirts give them and her a lot of credit. Her eyes narrow, and I think she’s going to argue with me, so I tell her why. “It was spattered with your vomit.”

“Oh,” she says.

Yes. “Oh.” Now, what do you have to say to that, Miss Y/L/N?

“I sent Taylor out for another pair and some shoes. They’re in the bag on the chair.” I nod at the shopping bag. She raises her eyebrows—in surprise, I think. “Um. I’ll have a shower,” she mutters, and then as an afterthought she adds, “Thanks.”

Grabbing the bag, she dodges around me, darts into the bathroom, and locks the door. Hmm…she couldn’t get into the bathroom quick enough. Away from me. Perhaps I’m being too optimistic.

Disheartened, I briskly dry off and get dressed. In the living room I check my e-mail, but there’s nothing urgent. I’m interrupted by a knock on the door. Two young women have arrived from room service.

“Where would you like breakfast, sir?”

“Set it up on the dining table.”

Walking back into the bedroom, I catch their furtive looks, but I ignore them and suppress the guilt I feel over how much food I’ve ordered. We’ll never eat it all.

“Breakfast is here,” I call, and rap on the bathroom door.

“O-okay.” Y/N’s voice sounds a little muted.

Back in the living room, our breakfast is on the table. One of the women, who has dark, dark eyes, hands me the check to sign, and from my wallet I pull a couple of twenties for them.

“Thank you, ladies.”

“Just call room service when you want the table cleared, sir,” Miss Dark Eyes says with a coquettish look, as if she’s offering more.

My chilly smile warns her off. Sitting down at the table with the newspaper, I pour myself a coffee and make a start on my omelet. My phone buzzes—a text from Elliot.

Bella wants to know if Y/N is still alive.

I chuckle, somewhat mollified that Y/N’s so-called friend is thinking about her. It’s obvious that Elliot hasn’t given his dick a rest after all his protestations yesterday. I text back.

Alive and kicking ;)

Y/N appears a few moments later: hair wet, in the pretty shirt that matches her eyes. Taylor has done well; she looks lovely. Scanning the room, she spots her purse.

“Crap, Bella!” she blurts.

“She knows you’re here and still alive. I texted Elliot.”

She gives me an uncertain smile as she walks toward the table.

“Sit,” I say, pointing to the place that’s been set for her. She frowns at the amount of food on the table, which only accentuates my guilt.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a selection from the breakfast menu,” I mutter by way of an apology.

“That’s very profligate of you,” she says.

“Yes, it is.” My guilt blooms. But as she opts for the pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon with maple syrup, and tucks in, I forgive myself. It’s good to see her eat.

“Tea?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” she says between mouthfuls. She’s obviously famished. I pass her the small teapot of water. She gives me a sweet smile when she notices the Twinings English Breakfast tea.

I have to catch my breath at her expression. And it makes me uneasy. It gives me hope.

“Your hair’s very damp,” I observe.

“I couldn’t find the hair dryer,” she says, embarrassed.

She’ll get sick.

“Thank you for the clothes,” she adds.

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N. That color suits you.”

She stares down at her fingers.

“You know, you really should learn to take a compliment.”

Perhaps she doesn’t get many…but why? She’s gorgeous in an understated way.

“I should give you some money for these clothes.”

What?

I glare at her, and she continues quickly, “You’ve already given me the books, which, of course, I can’t accept. But these, please let me pay you back.”

Sweetheart. “Y/N, trust me, I can afford it.”

“That’s not the point. Why should you buy these for me?”

“Because I can.” I’m a very rich man, Y/N.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean that you should.” Her voice is soft, but suddenly I’m wondering if she’s looked through me and seen my darkest desires. “Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

Because I wanted to see you again, and here you are… “Well, when you were nearly run over by the cyclist—and I was holding you and you were looking up at me—all ‘kiss me, kiss me, Christian’—” I stop, recalling that moment, her body pressed against mine.

Shit. Quickly I shrug off the memory. “I felt I owed you an apology and a warning. Y/N, I’m not a hearts-and-flowers kind of man. I don’t do romance. My tastes are very singular. You should steer clear of me. There’s something about you, though, and I’m finding it impossible to stay away. But I think you’ve figured that out already.”

“Then don’t,” she whispers.

What? “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Her words travel straight to my cock.

Fuck.

“You’re not celibate?” she asks.

“No, Y/N, I’m not celibate.” And if you’d let me tie you up I’d prove it to you right now. Her eyes widen and her cheeks pink.

Oh, Y/N.

I have to show her. It’s the only way I’ll know. “What are your plans for the next few days?” I ask.

“I’m working today, from midday. What time is it?” she exclaims in panic.

“It’s just after ten; you’ve plenty of time. What about tomorrow?”

“Bella and I are going to start packing. We’re moving to Seattle next weekend, and I’m working at Clayton’s all this week.”

“You have a place in Seattle already?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I can’t remember the address. It’s in the Pike Market District.”

“Not far from me.” Good! “So what are you going to do for work in Seattle?”

“I’ve applied for some internships. I’m waiting to hear.”

“Have you applied to my company, as I suggested?”

“Um…no.”

“And what’s wrong with my company?”

“Your company or your company?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Are you smirking at me, Miss Y/L/N?” I can’t hide my amusement.

Oh, she’d be a joy to train…challenging, maddening woman. She examines her plate, chewing at her lip.

“I’d like to bite that lip,” I whisper, because it’s true.

Her face flies to mine and she shuffles in her seat. She tilts her chin toward me, her eyes full of confidence. “Why don’t you?” she says quietly.

Oh. Don’t tempt me, baby. I can’t. Not yet.

“Because I’m not going to touch you, Y/N—not until I have your written consent to do so.”

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“Exactly what I say. I need to show you, Y/N.” So you know what you’re getting yourself into.

“What time do you finish work this evening?”

“About eight.”

“Well, we could go to Seattle this evening or next Saturday for dinner at my place, and I’ll acquaint you with the facts then. The choice is yours.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“Because I’m enjoying my breakfast and your company. Once you’re enlightened, you probably won’t want to see me again.”

She frowns as she processes what I’ve said. “Tonight,” she says.

Whoa. That didn’t take long.

“Like Eve, you’re so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge,” I taunt her.

“Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?” she asks.

I look at her through narrowed eyes. Okay, baby, you asked for this. I pick up my phone and press Taylor on speed dial. He answers almost immediately.

“Mr. Grey.”

“Taylor. I’m going to need Charlie Tango.”

She watches me closely as I make arrangements to bring my EC135 to Portland. I’ll show her what I have in mind…and the rest will be up to her. She may want to come home once she knows. I’ll need Stephan, my pilot, to be on standby so he can bring her back to Portland if she decides to have nothing more to do with me. I hope that’s not the case. And it dawns on me that I’m thrilled that I can take her to Seattle in Charlie Tango. It’ll be a first.

“Standby pilot from 22:30,” I confirm with Taylor and hang up.

“Do people always do what you tell them?” she asks, and the disapproval in her voice is obvious. Is she scolding me now? Her challenge is annoying.

“Usually, if they want to keep their jobs.” Don’t question how I treat my staff.

“And if they don’t work for you?” she adds.

“I can be very persuasive, Y/N. You should finish your breakfast. And then I’ll drop you off at home. I’ll pick you up at Clayton’s at eight when you finish. We’ll fly up to Seattle.”

“Fly?”

“Yes. I have a helicopter.”

Her mouth drops open, forming a small o. It’s a pleasing moment. “We’ll go by helicopter to Seattle?” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” I grin. Sometimes it’s just fucking great to be me. “Finish your breakfast.”

She seems stunned.

“Eat!” My voice is more forceful. “Y/N, I have an issue with wasted food. Eat.”

“I can’t eat all this.” She studies all the food on the table and I feel guilty once more. Yes, there is too much food here.

“Eat what’s on your plate. If you’d eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be declaring my hand so soon.”

Hell. This could be a huge mistake.

She gives me a sideways look as she chases her food around on the plate with a fork, and her mouth twitches.

“What’s so funny?”

She shakes her head and pops the last piece of pancake into her mouth, and I try not to laugh. As ever, she surprises me. She’s awkward, unexpected, and disarming. She really makes me want to laugh, and what’s more, it’s at myself.

“Good girl,” I mutter. “I’ll take you home when you’ve dried your hair. I don’t want you getting ill.”

You’ll need all your strength for tonight, for what I have to show you. Suddenly, she gets up from the table and I have to stop myself from telling her that she doesn’t have permission.

She’s not your submissive…yet, Grey.

On the way back to the bedroom, she pauses by the sofa. “Where did you sleep last night?” she asks.

“In my bed.” With you.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, it was quite a novelty for me, too.”

“Not having…sex.”

She said the s-word…and the telltale pink cheeks appear.

“No.” How can I tell her this, without it sounding weird? Just tell her, Grey.

“Sleeping with someone.” Nonchalantly, I turn my attention back to the sports section and the write-up on last night’s game, then watch as she disappears into the bedroom.

No, that didn’t sound weird at all. Well, I have another date with Miss Y/L/N. No, not a date. She needs to know about me. I let out a long breath and drink what’s left of my orange juice. This is shaping up to be a very interesting day.

I’m pleased when I hear the buzz of the hair dryer and surprised that she’s doing what she’s been told.

While I’m waiting for her, I phone the valet to bring my car up from the garage and check her address once more on Google Maps. Next, I text Andrea to send me an NDA via e-mail; if Y/N wants enlightenment, she’ll need to keep her mouth shut. My phone buzzes. It’s Ros.

As I’m on the phone, Y/N emerges from the bedroom and picks up her purse. Ros is talking about Darfur, but my attention is on Miss Y/N. She rummages around in her purse and she’s pleased when she finds a hair tie.

Her hair is beautiful. Lush. Long. Thick. Idly, I wonder what it would be like to braid. She ties it back on a low delicate ponytail, a few strands of hair decorates her face and puts on her jacket, then sits down on the sofa, waiting for me to finish my call.

“Okay, let’s do it. Keep me abreast of progress.” I conclude my conversation with Ros. She’s been working miracles and it looks like our food shipment to Darfur is happening.

“Ready to go?” I ask her. She nods. I grab my jacket and car keys and follow her out the door. She peeks at me through long lashes as we walk toward the elevator, and her lips curl into a shy smile. My lips twitch in response.

What the hell is she doing to me?

The elevator arrives, and I allow her to step in first. I press the first-floor button and the doors close. In the confines of the elevator, I’m completely aware of her. A trace of her sweet fragrance invades my senses…Her breathing alters, hitching a little, and she peeks up at me with a bright come-hither look.

Shit.

She bites her lip. She’s doing this on purpose. And for a split second I’m lost in her sensual, mesmerizing stare. She doesn’t back down.

I’m hard.

Instantly.

I want her.

Here.

Now.

In the elevator.

“Oh, fuck the paperwork.” The words come from nowhere and on instinct I grab her and push her against the wall. Clasping both her hands, I pin them above her head so she can’t touch me, and once she’s secure, I twist my other hand in her hair while my lips seek and find hers.

She moans into my mouth, the call of a siren, and finally I can sample her: mint and tea and an orchard of mellow fruitfulness. She tastes every bit as good as she looks. Reminding me of a time of plenty. Good Lord. I’m yearning for her. I grasp her chin, deepening the kiss, and her tongue tentatively touches mine…exploring. Considering. Feeling. Kissing me back.

Oh, God in heaven.

I'm completely intoxicated, punch-drunk with her scent and taste.

The elevator stops and the doors begin to open. Get a fucking grip, Grey.

I push myself off her and stand beyond her reach.

She’s breathing hard. As am I.

When was the last time I lost control? Three men in business suits give us knowing looks as they join us. And I stare at the poster that’s above the buttons in the elevator advertising a sensual weekend at The Heathman. I glance at Y/N and exhale.

She grins. And my lips twitch once more.

What the fuck has she done to me?

The elevator stops at the second floor and the guys get out, leaving me alone with Miss Y/N/L.

“You’ve brushed your teeth,” I observe with wry amusement.

“I used your toothbrush,” she says, eyes shining. Of course she has…and for some reason, I find this pleasing, too pleasing. I stifle my smile. “Y/N Y/L/N, what am I going to do with you?” I take her hand as the elevator doors open on the ground floor, and I mutter under my breath, “What is it about elevators?”

She gives me a knowing look as we stroll across the polished marble of the lobby. The car is waiting in one of the bays in front of the hotel; the valet is pacing impatiently. I give him an obscene tip and open the passenger door for Y/N, who is quiet and introspective.

But she hasn’t run.

Even though I jumped her in the elevator. I should say something about what happened in there—but what? Sorry?

How was that for you? What the hell are you doing to me?

I start the car and decide that the less said, the better. The soothing sound of Delibes’s “Flower Duet” fills the car and I begin to relax.

“What are we listening to?” Y/N inquires, as I turn onto Southwest Jefferson Street. I tell her and ask her if she likes it. “Christian, it’s wonderful.”

To hear my name on her lips is a strange delight. She’s said it about half a dozen times now, and each time it’s different. Today, it’s with wonder—at the music. It’s great that she likes this piece: it’s one of my favorites. I find myself beaming; she’s obviously excused me for the elevator outburst. “Can I hear that again?”

“Of course.” I tap the touch screen to replay the music.

“You like classical music?” she asks, as we cross the Fremont Bridge, and we fall into an easy conversation about my taste in music. While we’re talking I get a call on the hands-free.

“Grey,” I answer.

“Mr. Grey, it’s Welch here. I have the information you require.” Oh yes, details about the photographer.

“Good. E-mail it to me. Anything to add?”

“No, sir.”

I press the button and the music is back. We both listen, now lost in the raw sound of the Kings of Leon. But it doesn’t last long—our listening pleasure is disturbed once more by the hands-free. What the hell?

“Grey,” I snap.

“The NDA has been e-mailed to you, Mr. Grey.”

“Good. That’s all, Andrea.”

“Good day, sir.”

I sneak a look at Y/N, to see if she’s picked up on that conversation, but she’s studying the Portland scenery. I suspect she’s being polite. It’s difficult to keep my eyes on the road. I want to stare at her.

For all her maladroitness, she has a beautiful neckline, one that I’d like to kiss from the bottom of herear right down to her shoulder. Hell. I shuffle in my seat. I hope she agrees to sign the NDA and to take what I have to offer. When we join I-5 I get another call.

It’s Elliot.

“Hi, Christian, d’you get laid?”

Oh…smooth, dude, smooth.

“Hello, Elliot—I’m on speakerphone, and I’m not alone in the car.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N”

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hello, Elliot,” she says, animated.

“Heard a lot about you,” Elliot says.

Shit. What has he heard?

“Don’t believe a word Bella says,” she responds good-naturedly.

Elliot laughs.

“I’m dropping Y/N off now. Do you want me to pick you up?” I interject.

There’s no doubt Elliot will want to make a quick getaway. “Sure.”

“See you shortly.” I say.

And in that moment I think about how I know that her rejection, when it comes, will be hard to take. It’s happened before, but I’ve never felt this…invested. I don’t even know this girl, but I want to know her, all of her.

Maybe it’s because I’ve never chased a woman. Grey, get control of yourself and follow the rules, otherwise this will all go to shit.

“Y/N,” I say, ignoring her disapproving look. “What happened in the elevator—it won’t happen again—well, not unless it’s premeditated.”

That keeps her quiet as I park outside her apartment. Before she can answer me I climb out of the car, walk around and open her door.

As she steps onto the sidewalk, she gives me a fleeting glance. “I liked what happened in the elevator,” she says.

You did? Her confession halts me in my tracks. I’m pleasantly surprised again by little Miss Y/L/N.

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[ series masterlist ]

TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @sophsss867

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[jiraisupportgroup]

Hii I'm new to jirai kei n recently I joined a group where there's a lot o jirai / landmine ppl! I was asking some questions abt how to go for the fashion part of the subculture and one of my main questions was "is there any thrift store I can go to? Can I customize some clothing to make it look jirai?" And what I got as an answer was "No. Jirai ppl only use branded clothing, you can buy it second hand but you cannot customize in any way".

Tbh I'm not in a good place economically rn and I don't have a job either, so I'm not sure what I should do. Importing clothing costs 6 times more cause of where I live.

Is it really a rule that jirai / landmine can only wear branded clothes? (Liz liza, honey wardrobe, dear my love, etc)

I know I fit in the jirai lifestyle but I wanted to fit in the fashion too T--T

Thank you for your time♡♡ asking anon cause it's for me and a frien ^^"

I would once again like to preface this (as I preface all things) with the fact that I could entirely be talking out of my ass - this is just my opinion - and I am not a spokesperson for Jirai Kei or other mentioned subcultures / fashion styles as a whole.

I wholeheartedly disagree with that but also I will caveat that with the fact that I spent most of my teenage years in menhera / goth / emo / grunge spaces and those are very DIY-heavy subcultures. I'm also super relaxed about how people choose to label themselves (to the point where I barely claim to be in any subculture because I just don't want to bother with labels so I'm probably not the best person to ask haha~)

To me personally, this feels like an argument that someone coming from Lolita would make? I kind of see a link here in the sense that the two main reasons I think people say these things about Lolita are because it is really hard to make Lolita clothing and buying lolita knock-offs is generally bad for a whole slew of reasons. Similar arguments for both subcultures I think.

Girly kei / dark girly clothing can be really hard to make or DIY. I think it is certainly very possible to do, but it might take some trial and error. Mostly because being a bit over the top is kind of the aesthetic; there are a lot of ruffles and bows and lace and ribbons and buttons and cute little accessories and cut-outs and the neckline is typically very specific with decorated collars. At its base, it is just a blouse, but it's got a LOT of aspects that go into it, and if it's "too basic" then you're not really hitting that girly kei style. The skirts too (I personally think the skirts would be a little easier to DIY but I also have experience sewing with lace / grommets & making corset ribbon designs which is mostly what stands out from them to me?) You also run into a lot of the actual hardware being specific with hearts being a really common theme for belt loops or buttons, and decorated suspenders.

I think it would be difficult to DIY girly kei or dark girly pieces but it's certainly doable. One issue is that depending on where you're getting the materials for that DIY, it might be about the same cost (or more) as just buying a blouse (although this depends on shipping cost).

The other aspect of it is the argument against fast fashion which is a little more nuanced in Jirai Kei but I see where they're coming from? I mean, to be frank, ryousangata is literally "massed produced" fashion (& to be fair the aesthetics that are labeled as “ryousangata” have varied a lot over the years - it’s not just frilly blouses & stuff that’s just kind of what it happens to be right now). It's pretty much just fast fashion. MA*RS, Liz Lisa, & DearMyLove from what I can tell are mostly produced in Japan, although they do source materials from China, like most companies do (not automatically or necessarily a bad thing imo - but I will spare you that side rant bc it’s kind of not related). I couldn't find a lot of information about their production practices? So I'm unsure about worker environments for them? Generally, the big-name brands are going to be more ethically sourced & produced than random AliExpress sellers but by how much is kind of questionable (or at least I could not find a lot of information about the production processes so I'm not sure by how much - if anyone has additional information on this I would love love love to hear).

Now am I saying "Go buy a bunch of fast fashion off of AliExpress because it's cheaper and no one cares"? No. (It's also honestly not much cheaper.) But the reality is that it generally is fast fashion, so it's a weird balancing game. I think one of the main reasons people say "only buy Liz Lisa / MA*RS / DearMyLove" is because they want to avoid fast fashion as much as possible while participating in a fashion with a LOT of fast fashion sellers, and since it can be difficult to find production information they go for the big names because they're easier to trust in that aspect. (I also have fallen into this trap & have sworn my life to DearMyLove because they're the only big-name brand that is even slightly 6-foot-tall-bitch friendly T-T)

All of that being said, if you want to attach some bows and lace to a frilly blouse and call it girly kei I am absolutely not going to stop you (or honestly even judge you, but again that's just me). The shipping costs are part of the reason why I say the clothes are secondary to the jirai kei subculture especially as a foreigner because once you consider that the clothing is significantly more expensive and difficult to obtain in foreign circles it becomes directly contradictory to some of the reasons why those same clothes are so popular in the Japanese subculture: I don't think the cultural context of the fashion translates over to foreign markets (economically or socially, but I'll spare you that entire rant lol).

ALSO! Jirai Kei Subcul is awesome and has a much more obtainable aesthetic for foreign markets. It leans more into punk and you can use a lot of different pieces for it that are more easily obtainable, so I highly recommend looking into it. It might be a good medium for being able to feel fully like you belong, but not breaking the bank for an outfit.

[dollsahoy]

A local doll person thrifted a Hamilton Design System Candi Girl (with no hair) and offered the doll to me, and I accepted, mostly out of curiosity. Candi Girl was an adult collector alternative to Barbie in the 1990s, and I had never seen one in real life before (although I did have an early 2000s playline Janay friend with this head sculpt, after IT acquired Hamilton Design)

I immediately took the head off of the body, because the body was basically a medium quality bend leg Superstar Barbie body knock off, with less details and a bigger bust. Then the head knocked around in the head box for years, because I did not want to reroot that hard vinyl.

When I was hit with the urge to see what I could assemble from the parts boxes, I realized the skin tone match was good between the Candi head and a pale Belly Button Body torso/gymnast arms/high heel gymnast legs Barbie body, so I decided to cut off the hands and replace them with IT hands (I believe both the body and hands were sent by Flo--thanks!)

For the hair, I decided to try making a brushed yarn wig. A fast, slapdash, no thought brushed yarn wig. Which I think turned out pretty well

However, the lack of hair was not the only issue this head had--the eye paint was really bad. The eyeliner hovered above the top of the eye, there were no light reflections, and the pupils were not at all in the same spots. Or the same size. But that was easy enough to fix, and she immediately looked better!

So, it was a pile of small changes, and she turned out much better than I expected.

[britt-kageryuu]

Donnie and Leo are streaming together, but Leo is playing the game. Their masks with lightly glowing stars, models are in matching starry hoodies, black legging shorts that showed off their leg marking, and leg wraps/socks.

Leo is replaying Skyrim w/DLC,(not the new update) but without any mods. Because there was an issue with something in their modded game, and Donnie couldn't tell if it was a mod, or a base game w/DLC. They bought a version of the game that had the DLC pre installed into the game, and they already know base game is held together with ductape and the Will of the Devine Beings.

Leo was messing with the character customization, "All these options, but the only thing I can make Blue is my Eyes! I miss the Terrapin mod already. Well can't do much more, now what do I name my Argonian?" Leo rambles on engaging with chat while Donnie is looking over the active running code in real time with his laptop.

"Let's Go, Lord Scaly Butt! On through the tutorials, then the place we keep crashing!" Leo shouts almost knocking Donnie over with his enthusiasm.

~~~~A bit of relearning the basics and 1 dead dragon later~~~~

Once they finished with the beginning quests, bought the Whiterun house to drop off the dragon parts, and returned the Golden Claw, Leo started to mess with simple tasks that quickly raise your levels.

"Alright Dee, what requirements are needed to replicate this crash scenario? Also this took over an hour! Did the game always take this long in the beginning?" Leo is once again rambling, looking back and forth between chat and Donnie.

This is causing the audience to wonder what kind of energy drinks or something he had, or what might've been added to his tea/coffee today.

Donnie in the mean time is reading over a list, ignoring his twin while scrolling, "The build according to your last save, you had the light dragon armor, not enchanted, you had finished this list of quest," they lean over to show Leo the list, "and as you can see, a long list of negligible variables that I have already tested out of possible crach sources. And while this may take a long time, I will try to keep you on track."

Leo's eyes go wide at the list as he reads it over, "How long have I been playing on that save! How long is this going to take!?!" He says slowly getting loader.

Donnie just leans away, "Give me a moment, I forgot to cull the quests that are not important to this process." They show the new list, "It might take a few dozen hours, it might not. You will need to fast travel occasionally to the crash point to help narrow down the possible source."

Leo stares at Donnie for a moment thinking over what he just said.

"But wouldn't that also mess up the results, since it might've been a combo of more things, not less?"

Donnie pauses, turns to Leo, then back at his laptop.

"Dee, how long have you been awake?" Leo asks with a look of disappointment.

Donnie was about to make their argument, but then let out a loud, long yawn. They shake their head before looking a bit panicked, "Wait, I'm fine, I've stayed up for longer, plus don't you want to replay Skyrim? And explore, fight dragons, try to complete those glitched quests?!" Donnie rambles, trying to justify his tiredness.

Leo still looked at him with suspicion, but goes back to the game. He is very much not convinced. He just knows is he fights Donnie on this, he might get bit.

The audience is making some jokes about Leo stealing Donnies energy, some are trying to justify Donnies argument, and some kinda want to see Leo force Donnie to go take a nap.

Leo continues to play, chatting with the audience, meanwhile Donnie at some point passed out, and started to let out snores, chuurs, a hiss or two, and some slight growls.

Either way the audience was enjoying themselves.

---------------

Masterpost

This was originally just an them replaying without mods, then I remembered how Stupidly Long the beginning of Skyrim is, then I remembered that the Skyrim background music makes me sleepy, thus we end up with the above.

I could not stick to my original plan since I was also replaying the beginning of Skyrim.

[hwaseonghwasworld]

Arranged marriage chapter 11: Where’s Y/n….

Summary: being a popular model isn't enough for Y/n’s parents so they decided to get her married with a 6’1”, protective male who is also a mafia, all the secrets and lies everyone kept from her will soon come into the light, what happens once the truth comes out?

Yunho x Reader

Word Count: 1.06k

Genre: series Mafia au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Media au!

Warnings: murder, graphic violence, kidnapping, cursing

Updates: Probably Thursday at 7pm BST

“DAD!”

I looked over at my dad who turned out to be the boss, Yunho walked over to me, I glared at him saying “why didn’t you tell me? What happened to no secrets” “That’s what I wanted to tell you, I promise” “I’m going home” I walked away and called Harin to come pick me up “yah, it’s basically night time…. What’s up?” “Can you come pick me up” after sending him the location he came to pick me up and saw that I was upset and stressing “what’s up” “my dad is Yunho’s boss” “what do you mean?” I looked at him and he realised what I meant “oh shit…. Didn’t Yunho tell you?” “No he was going to but then he got that call” he nodded, understanding what I meant and was about to drive me home.

“Can you take me to my house?” He looked at me knowing what happens when I’m home alone “yeah no, you’re staying with me and tsuna” “why???” “Because whenever you’re stressed you drink… a lot and I’m not dealing with you calling my wife 10 times every second then crying about your issue” “you’re a crying drink and it’s not something I want to deal with cause tsuna always tells me to come with her to pick you up” I roll my eyes because I know he’s right “I’m not gonna do that, I don’t even have soju at my house” I pouted and he agreed, he took me home but checked the fridge and cabinets to see if I was lying “alright stay safe” “ok manager” I smiled and he walked out, right after I went to go order alcohol and some chicken, as soon as it came I started drinking and putting loud music on.

30 minutes later I was feeling really drunk, I started tearing up and called Tsuna, after ringing her, I ended the call and called her again since I thought the call wasn’t working, over and over again until she answered “are you drunk?” I started crying. Loud. “YAH YOU SAID YOU WERENT GOING TO DRINK” I heard Harin shouting in the background making me cry louder “do you want me to come get you?” “Y-yes please”

Setsuna pov

“Come on let’s go get Y/n” “nope” I glared at him and he immediately stood up “fine” Harin drove back to Y/n’s house “I hate when she gets drunk” I walked out knocking on Y/n’s door “she wasn’t answering so I called her, when she didn’t answer I was getting suspicious because she never misses my calls, even when she’s drunk or busy. As I unlocked the door I walked in “why didn’t you do that in the first place?” I glared at him and walked in, seeing that Y/n was nowhere to be seen, I ran to all her rooms not finding her and I started to panic.

“Maybe Yunho picked her up” I checked the security cameras in one of her rooms seeing 2 guys in full black running into the house “YOU LEFT HER DOOR WIDE OPEN” “no I closed it” “she probably orders soju, you know how she gets when she’s stressed” “ exactly that’s why we bring her to us when she’s stressed” I slapped my forehead in distress and went into the car, telling Harin to drive us to Yunho’s place as soon as we knocked I could see in his eyes that he was expecting to see Y/n.

“Where’s Y/n…” Harin looked at him confused and yet spoke in a panicked tone as he said those words “she’s not here” I rolled my eyes “read the room” Yunho ran out, getting into his car and checked his phone.

Yunho pov

I looked at the tracker in her necklace seeing that she’s at some sort of abandoned area, I drove there as fast as I can to get my wife back into my arms, pissed as she could never catch a break.

Y/n pov

I was crying uncontrollably as these two guys tried to shut me up “we’re not gonna kill you we just need to speak to your husband “w-who are you?” I stopped crying leaving the men confused “why were you crying” I tear up again while I was trying to get my words out “m-my dad is a mafia boss” the tears became cries, which were louder than before “you guys kidnapped a bosses daughter!!!” We all looked towards the door as a taller male approached “we’re all dead if anyone finds out you know..” “then what should we do?” They looked at me as I stopped crying but tears were still flowing “kill her and make it quick” the guy pulled out a gun giving it to one of the guys, as the male pulled the gun to my head someone ran in and immediately shot the guy holding the gun, instantly killing him.

I froze in my place as the male’s blood was all over my face, Yunho proceeded to shoot the other two and ran up to me untying me, “are you ok? Did they hurt you?” I was still in shock as I was still frozen in the seat, Yunho picked me up, putting me on his back and taking me home. He cleaned the blood off me and put me in the bed. “Are you ok?” I nodded, and a second later I felt like I was going to be sick, I went into the toilet and threw up, Yunho helped me and as soon as I finished he laid me in the bed, he went in and I rested my head on his chest trying to feel comfort for the guy that I just shot 3 people in front of me.

“I saw the contract” I looked at him and he sighed “it’s not what you think, it’s depending on how your feelings are towards me, if you don’t love me within 3 years then I sign the contract and let you go” I nodded realising he was telling the truth and he hugged me again kissing my forehead

“I’m sorry I had to do that in front of you…” “that wasn’t my intention” “it’s fine, you saved me” I was thinking about how my whole life is in danger because of my brother, father and husband, it’s like every male around me is dangerous and there’s no way of escaping it.

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[arvensimp]

*as if I’m ordering food at a drive thru* Can we get a fuckin uhhhhhhhhhh

Nsfw where Arven gets jealous of someone talking to y/n (fem or nb preferred!), so he does that whole passionate, steamy, borderline-rough “you’re mine” sex trope? 👉🏼👈🏼

You're lucky the jealous arven machine ain't broke lmaooo.

I was going to make this a pt 2 to green eyed tera type then I saw the nb/fem preferred. And... I was a little torn. I definitely am going to do a pt 2 to that drabble (someone else did already put that request in in my inbox as well!) I hope you don't mind if I give us a different person for Arven to get jealous about haha. I hope you don't mind if I do lean fem with this, too.

--

Different Kinda Jelly

Arven x fem!reader

Nsfw, vaginal sex, very slight dubcon themes (someone attempting a kiss and it becomes a cheek kiss), also some breeding kink? Sorry that's kinda where it ended up I hope you don't mind!!

--

So...you might be in a teensy bit of danger. Just a little bit. In a fun way!

But still danger.

It started with a request from La Primera to attend a tournament in Galar on her behalf. Basically you were supposed to represent rising talent and battling culture in Paldea, yadda yadda yadda. Super cool. Love it. Free trip to Galar!

You had a great time, honestly. You met some really great people and had a ton of fun battling and learning about new and different pokemon, even if there was often a language barrier.

The issue was because of a certain former top champion you met.

See, Leon was a charmer from the moment he greeted you in the lobby of the tournament's hotel with a gleaming smile and a delicious accent in broken Paldean. He'd told you how impressed he was with the videos he'd seen of your battles and how he looked forward to thoroughly thrashing you in front of everyone. He also offered to give you a tour of the area, as was apparently one of his duties as a native to the region.

Your agreement couldn't come fast enough, but the steadying hand on the small of your back as he spoke to you didn't hurt either.

The trouble got worse when you learned that apparently Leon was "pants with directions" and got the two of you lost several times the following day, leading to several public snafus with folks taking pictures of their beloved former champion and some mysterious foreigner at some of Galar's "hottest date destinations!"

The headlines were apparently terribly scandalous, but they were in a language you didn't particularly feel like translating.

However, Penny's a native Galarian and had no problem sharing with Nemona and Arven.

You spent 2 hours the following evening explaining the whole thing to Arven over the phone and how the whole thing was very clearly a misunderstanding, particularly on Leon's part. Nothing happened, and you were fully intending to beat the snot out of Leon in the competition the next day to make it up to Arven.

Then the next day came, and you met Leon on the pitch. You hadn't been able to see him before because of competition regulations or something, but when you met in the middle to shake hands, this man did a full bow and kissed your hand in front of the stadium and all the cameras.

Your face heated up, and you pulled your hand away as gracefully as you could while maintaining decorum for the public.

"Looking forward to our battle, love!" Boy, he got familiar with the pet names awfully fast.

"Looking forward to taking your charizard out of the sky!" You replied with a cheeky grin that hopefully came off as appropriately cocky for the crowds without causing scandal for your region.

In the end, your terastalized tinkaton was able to knock his lizard to the ground and pummel it, resulting in your victory.

You thought Leon might lose it for a moment, but it seemed like he'd only gotten better at dealing with defeat over time. When you met again in the center of the pitch, and you extended your hand, he took it...only to fully dip you for the crowds, causing them to gasp in surprise.

You yelped, and as he went in for a kiss for the cameras, you turned your face just in time, so that he planted one firmly on your cheek instead.

When he let you back to your feet, you both smiled and waved to the crowds before departing.

Backstage your phone had already blown up with texts from all of your friends, and you were already lamenting the roaming fees.

You called Arven first and he picked up before the first ring even finished.

"Are you kidding me?! Who does this guy think he is?"

"I'm about to go let him down. Officially, I guess? I didn't think this needed to happen. Something must have seriously been miscommunicated. I'm sorry you had to see that. Please please please believe me. I don't know what's going on in his head."

"Do you even understand how much this hurts me?"

"I don't. I couldn't, but I can imagine it, and I'm really sorry. I hope you saw how I was trying to avoid it all."

"...I guess..."

You heard a knock at the door to your locker room.

"Listen, Arven. I love you, and I'll be home soon, but I've got to go now. I'll call you back as soon as I can, okay?"

"'Kay. I love you, too."

You hung up and found Leon at the door waiting for you, leaning against the frame with arms crossed and a smile on his face.

"You really gave me a lashing out there, love. Good show!" He said as he made his way into the space.

"Uh....yeah..." You replied as you started to fiddle with the bottom of your jersey.

"So..." He spread out on the sofa like a purrloin.

"Leon...." You started. "What happened?" You asked in Galarian. "Outside?"

"On the pitch?" He gestured. "Just some fun! For the cameras! They love a love story, yeah? Those headlines were top news! It's great for the tournament, too. You're a bit shy though, yea? I'm sorry, love. I should've asked. Sorry." He at least had the decency to look properly sorry.

You frowned. "I...have a boyfriend. In Paldea."

Leon looked like he'd been smacked. "What?! Why didn't you say?"

You tilted your head to the side, trying to formulate a response, then typed one into a translation app on your phone which basically amounted to. "I didn't think it needed to be explained! You never asked?"

Leon at least had the decency to look sorry. He also pulled out a translation device when he realized his thoughts might be too complex for his simple Paldean. He apologized for not realizing that his actions could have been misconstrued the other day and then jumping the gun so publicly today. He genuinely seemed apologetic, so you accepted, on the condition that he also confirmed with Arven that you didn't do anything wrong.

So there in the locker room, you filmed former champion Leon apologizing to your boyfriend for attempting to kiss you on international television.

However, it seemed that all was not entirely forgiven. Galar's headlines forgot about you the moment you lost the tournament to some Kantonian named Red, but Arven?

Arven's a different story.

You're currently sitting on your bed, waiting for Arven to get back to your place, antsy with nerves. You know he's not actually mad because you know he knows you didn't do anything wrong.

But still. You feel bad to have been involved in him feeling bad. You love him.

That doesn't change the fact that you jump a bit when you hear the door open and Arven call your name.

"I-I'm upstairs!" You reply, your voice quivering.

He wastes no time making his way to the bedroom. You stand to give him a kiss, but he skillfully dodges you.

"Welcome back," He says with an even tone, but his eyes are dark.

"I really missed you..." You offer weakly.

"Oh, I know you did." He says, as he starts circling you, not unlike a veluza, almost predatory. "It seems you had a hard time being alone without me, didn't you?"

"Arven, you know I--"

Arven pulls you in close to him, gripping you by the waist and the back of the neck. "Would it have been better if I was there with you? Made sure to keep all those other guys away from my dearest treasure?"

"I-I..."

"I know you're a capable person and all... But you're just so...sweet..." His thumb at your neck rubs circles into the skin there. "Trusting... Maybe I should've tagged along. Kept them all away from you. Showed them who you belonged to, yeah?"

"O-Oh..." You feel your knees buckle a bit, but Arven's grip keeps you upright and secure. He can tell the effect this is having on you though because he smirks and leans in close to whisper hotly in your ear.

"Strip and get on the bed for me, will you?"

You do as you're told, with Arven watching you carefully. Only once you're dutifully in place does he also strip and move to straddle you.

"See here's the thing." Arven tells you as he leans in close, kissing along your neck and jawline. "I know you're a good girl."

The praise makes you whimper without even thinking.

"See?" He laughs softly, darkly. "Like that. I imagine all those other folks out there can tell that about you, too. They want to swoop in and steal you away from me..."

"N-No, Arven..." You whimper pathetically in protest.

"You wanna be with me, don't you, my sweetest?" He asks between hot, biting kisses along your collarbone while one of his hands snakes up to squeeze at your breasts.

"O-of course! Only you!" You reply, hooking a leg over his hips to draw him in closer to you.

Arven moves up to take your mouth in a searing kiss as he grinds his hardness against you. When he eventually moves away to pepper more bites along your neck, he mumbles into your skin. "Maybe I could mark you up...leave you with little marks all along this pretty neck... Show the world that you're mine. Would you like that?"

Your reply comes only as a pathetic whine and nod while your fingers thread through his soft hair.

"I'll take that as a yes then..." Arven replies with a soft chuckle.

As he starts working on dotting your clavicle with hickies, one of his hands goes to unhook your leg from his hips, letting your knees splay open. His fingers deftly move to the growing wetness between your thighs.

"Hmm... Already soaked like this?" He tuts in faux mocking. "Such a needy thing... Guess I have no choice but to take care of you."

You wantonly grind against his fingers as his thumb works glorious circles around your clit, bringing you to a stunning completion in a matter of about a minute that has your thighs quaking while you chant his name like a mantra.

"That's right, sweet thing... You know who you belong to, don't you..." He murmurs, gathering wetness from your folds to lube up his cock. "You're mine." He says as he thrusts into you in one fluid motion that has you choking on an inhalation. It's a little rough, but nothing he knows you're not already comfortable with. It's the same with the pace he sets as he fucks into you.

You do your best to match his thrusts from below, but when he catches on to your movement he pauses. "Ah, ah, ah... Not this time." He says before hefting your knees over his shoulders. The new angle makes for a rougher fuck that hits the most delicious places inside of you.

"I wanna fuck you so hard you never even think of another man. You hear me?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Yeah?" His hips stutter a bit. "You like that?" You nod because you know if you open your mouth the only thing to come out would be stupid moans.

"Good. I'm gonna keep fucking you like this. Make sure all the world knows you're mine. F-fuck... Maybe if I knock you up, everyone else'll get the h-hint!"

That was new. Not something expected or discussed prior, but it did something to you, and Arven clearly noticed.

"Holy f-fuck, that got a rise out of you, didn't it? You got so much, nngh, tighter...Sh-shit.... I'm close. Just...." It only takes a few more thrusts before he cums hard and deep inside you. A moment later, he's let your legs go, and then he's collapsed onto the bed beside you.

"Uh... Sorry for the roughness." He pants. "And, uh, the other thing."

Still entirely blissed out, you look back at him. "Hm? It's okay... I dunno... Maybe I should go to other regions more often..."

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Goo, Sleep, Repeat, Or Please Don’t

@everystarstorm @ LumianaKatenke

Danny had really bad luck with G.I.W. and Nocturne has precisely zero tolerance for their foolishness.

Nocturne grins maliciously, pouncing down on Phantom, the little prince in the making, a young god would didn’t get enough sleep. There are spectators, Phantom’s citizens, cheering the battle on, giving reverence to their master. As they should. His little Fraid and Makers hovering around, unable to get involved since they’re so far above such mortals. The human government fools still try, pathetic things; as if they could truly do anything either.

Nocturne swirls, twisting and bending around blasts; there’s not too much power behind it, expected, Phantom was still so young and had no interest in truly damaging most ghosts. Phantom smirking up at them, “you’re not a very good nighttime comforter! Because no one finds this assault comforting! And getting clawed in the face isn’t comfortable!”. That child and his way with words. He was so very fond of them much to the annoyance and groans of everyone in earshot.

Nocturne smacks him with their ghostly tail into a wall, grinning more, “one of these days I will knock you out!”, knock him out to stay asleep for awhile. But Phantom pops back out of the indent while sticking out his tongue, “and I’ll knock you back to sleep with the fishes!”. Ah the death jokes, no ghost made them quite like Phantom did.

Nocturne gets blasted past a couple buildings, going past one to see those human government fools setting up some large launcher. They have no interest with dealing with that, but perhaps they should not lead the child king over here. This was for play, to spar and tire the boy, a good nights rest after stretching out protective powerful muscles. So they zip up, into the sky, and fire a quick blast to send Phantom back a little. Only for those makers of his to hit him square in the back as a result, right over to where Nocturne was trying to not have Phantom go. Those fools, snarling quickly at the male maker, “insolent mortals!”, before moving to follow after Phantom.

They’re not quite fast enough. They don’t stop Phantom from getting hit by the large gooey rocket. It seemingly liquifies most everything from the shoulders down; sending the boy splattering into the pavement. They wanted Phantom asleep but this was Unacceptable! Roaring and tackling the human government worms, “how dare you dare harm a young one! Young zone’s hand and head! Little dignity! Sweet dear child!”.

It was pure chaos, immediate chaos, Jazz screaming as the ghosts ghostly tail wraps around her, Sam, and Tucker, basically flinging them at and in Danny. Sam muttering, “shit, shit, shit, shit”, while trying to push the bits of Danny soup back into a more coagulated pile.

Tucker ripping through his pockets, “thermos, fuck I should have a thermos right? Zone is that even a good idea?”.

Jazz snapping, “I don’t know Tucker, but you’re a better shot than I am and we have an issue!”. Tucker jerking his head up and wincing around, more G.I.W. agents had seemingly popped up out of nowhere… at least they were forcefully keeping the Fenton’s back. Small mercies. At least he managed to find two thermoses, passing them off to her and taking her pistol.

Tucker half kneeling, using a knee to help him aim, shooting two who shout back, “WE ARE THE GOVERNMENT! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO REIST! CEASE YOUR DEFENCE OF A MONSTER AND MENACE!”.

Maddie shouting in the background, “WE HAVE MORE RIGHT TO IT THAN YOU!”.

“Silence or you will be placed under arrest for interfering with a government seizure!”.

Tucker wincing, “Sam!”.

“I’m busy helping Jazz! Tucker! Figure it out!”.

For the first time in a long time all three of them seriously wishing Val/Red or, heck, even Vlad, to show up. Tucker having to flatten himself, grabbing the back of Jazz’s shirt to get her on the ground too; a blast whizzing right over their heads. Him wincing at seeing a bit of Danny’s ‘goo’ spill out.

Jazz and Sam were honestly just stuffing what they could of half liquid Danny into the thermoses, not daring to actually suck him into the thing. And then there’s suddenly a bunch of Nocturne’s pillow shade ghosts around them, almost like a barricade, some throwing hands with and occasionally being destroyed by the G.I.W. agents.

G.I.W. agents scowling, struggling more than they’d like, “great, the monsters summoned minions”. Nocturne impales an agent with their elbow spikes, crushes the machine/vehicle completely underhand, and snarls again, form growing to cover the sky, “I HAVE NO TOLERANCE FOR THIS FOOLISH BEHAVIOUR!”.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all wincing; at this rate Nocturne was going to knock out the whole town again or start breaking buildings. Sam and Tucker exchanging looks before both sigh and shout, “EVERYONE LAY DOWN! THIS ONE’S A FLOATING KNOCK OUT GAS!”. And… surprisingly a few people actually listened, not the G.I.W. obviously, though people might also be hitting the ground to avoid getting caught in cross fire since it was well known that the G.I.W. did not give a single flying fuck about bystander casualties. At least the Pillow Shades give all three of them the time to focus on getting Danny into thermoses. Tucker ripping off his hoodie and passing it to Jazz to get the not soup shoulder, arms, and head wrapped up somewhat securely; Danny groans.

The three all stilling at Nocturne’s black starry arm slamming down over Danny with a harsh yet soft, “sleep child”. Danny doesn’t groan again and his face relaxes. Jazz is the only one that can manage to give a small, “thank you”.

Maddie has no clue what’s going on. The fight was mostly normal, her and Jack hoping to maybe get in a good shot or get some new samples, when suddenly the place was swarmed with G.I.W. agents. It’s been a long time since her or Jack have actually liked the G.I.W., them firing live rocket rounds at an observatory full of children was the last straw for her, and right now they’ve fully pissed her off. Her husband, Jack, was the one to hit the ghost first, they might have taken It down but It was still their hit first! They had more claim! But fighting this many agents was out of the question, especially with the ‘villain’ ghost summoning shades, it would do her kids no good for either of them to get arrested.

But at least she understands the G.I.W.’s actions, she can even rationalise what sounds like some teens actions to protect Phantom. The G.I.W. were hated by the teen populace, Phantom was disturbingly belove-d. She didn’t approve of some teens putting themselves in danger like this but at least it made sense. Now this ‘Nocturne’s’ actions? Those did not make a lick of sense. Why was It defending not only Phantom but seemingly also the teens that were defending Phantom? Why had It called Phantom a ‘sweet child’? It made no sense. Ghosts had no understanding of age, nonetheless childhood versus adulthood. Perhaps ghosts could tell when a ghost was a newer ghost, but sightings of Phantom have been recorded since ancient Egypt and It had been haunting Amity for multiple years now. It wasn’t a fresh ghost. The other terms It used seemed like merely other ways to say the same thing, linguistic complexity were not supposed to be truly possible with ghosts; Phantom was abnormal with Its use of puns and that was it, and Its heightened exposure to humans increasing Its vocabulary.

She watches, using the G.I.W.’s distraction to slip behind a different building, as part of this Nocturne ghost physically throws a G.I.W. agent through the air as Its form finally full blocks out all the light from the sky and sun. This ghost… was incredibly dangerous, far more than It had been while Phantom was fighting It. Do the ghosts ‘pull their punches’ when fighting Phantom? Why? How would any ghost have the self awareness to do such a thing? It didn’t make sense.

“MAD’S!”.

Maddie snapping her head to the side, seeing five of the pillow-like shades slamming Jack into a wall. “You let him go! You ectoplasmic fiends!”, raising her weapon only for a black starry portion of the ghost to push her down onto the ground. Jack slumping, unconscious, surrounded by grinning pillow shades that… lower him slowly? to the ground with happy? grins. The things even lay his head down gently? And now she’s getting lightheaded, foggy? Right those teens said It was a ‘knock out gas’ or something? Right?

G.I.W. agents are screaming in the background, the ghost lowers Its masked head to glower over her, “you, behave, your foolish words and thoughts bother the young one’s sleep far too much. You will be no bother to him now”. She glares, expecting the ghost to simply crush her, instead drifting off to sleep, eyes slowly closing.

Nocturne was not happy. Nocturne was not impressed. Nocturne was not willing to tolerate this foolishness. Phantom could act foolishly if the child so chose, as could his fraid, it could even be tolerated from those makers; but from human mortals who were not even his possessions or loyal servants? Hmph, absolutely not. They press their mass down on the buildings, through their own might or their Sleeper shades they send all inside to sleep. The ones outside put down gently, as the little prince would hate for harm to be done; the ones that listened to his little fraid will be promised lovely sweet dreams as their reward. The mortals who fight them however, they will be knock out by blows and impacts, only fitful nightmares awaiting them for their disrespect and foolishness.

Their Sleepers communicating that the prince’s fraid had gathered up what of him they could, good indeed, he was hurt, foolish mortals having dared to have done such to the Infinite Realms most precious one; to do so to any child ghost would be unacceptable.

They push portions of themselves through the veil between worlds, tearing opening a portal between the land of the living and the land of the dead. The young prince’s fraid and nest-mate could cart him off to where is best. Whether that be another ancient more familiar with his physique than them or one of the many clans that worshiped the child, or his Infinite Realm bound lair perhaps? The FrightKnight even? They wouldn’t object too much to them taking the little one to their own lair, but that would hardly do him much good beyond further gentle restorative sleep.

Phantom’s mortals scooping him and the cylindrical devices Phantom loved to use that they’d put the more liquified portions in, all three moving through the portal and Nocturne letting it snap shut right after. They had hardly any interest in spending energy maintaining a portal, when they had punishments to dole out.

These men, why so many of them feared being dirty they did not get, but they will make everything dirty then. Every inch of their machinery and weapons they have their Sleeper shades stuff them full with dirt, mud, animal manure. Every red liquid Nocturne could locate in the young one’s lair gets dumped on their suits, scratching their glasses up and imbedding them with rocks.

Those makers of his get their weapons destroyed but nothing more… besides unpleasant dreams of exactly what would befall this simple town without its lair master and protector.

Nocturne settles themselves over the city, content to keep everything inside trapped in slumber till the sweet little prince returned. Any outsider attempts to get in will be crushed, be they helicopter, tank, or other vehicle; all life forms residing inside said machines sent to slumber, bodies scattered around the parameter like dead flies surrounding a carcass.

FrostBite was having a good day, SwiftSnout had her baby perfectly fine, ColdStep’s aim had gotten noticeably better, and IceHorn’s sweetsuckle had finally produced berries. So, FrostBite was having a good day, was. He was until the Great One and his fraid and nest-mate showed up; he’d been so distracted by the Great One’s state that he hardly noticed that they somehow arrived in the middle of the foxdew den while he’d been feeding the little mongrels. The smell of sandalwood, rose, and patchouli that accompanied their arrival telling him that Ancient ClockWork had some hand in the peculiar sudden arrival, even if the portal was clearly one of Ancient Nocturne’s.

FrostBite rushing over to the children, The Great One smelled strongly of lavender and chamomile so he doubts the young god was unconscious of his own will. However… that appeared to be something of a kindness, considering his state. He had a minor cut on his head and a small burn on his shoulder, just beneath his shoulders he cut off jaggedly into goo, the goo half dripping and half floating vaguely attached and seeping into a worrying collection of thermoses. “What happened? Come, we’ll get you to the infirmary immediately”.

Lady Sam scowling, “G.I.W. happened, those jackasses”.

Miss Jazz, giving him a better explanation as he scoops up the Great One and the thermoses in his arms. Lady Sam, Pharaoh Tuck, and Miss Jazz all climbing on his shoulders as the young adult speaks, “he was sparring with Nocturne, he’s been skipping sleep again. Jack got a shot in on him and the G.I.W. took advantage of that”.

FrostBite nodding respectfully as they get into the infirmary, “ShardHeart, get the lay down capsule out, he’s mostly goo so we need to keep that all contained together”. She nods at him immediately and gets to work with professional ease.

Sam and Tucker grimace, dumping their thermoses into the capsule, trying to not splash it on Danny’s face. Tucker grimacing, “we’re not really sure what he got hit with, only that is was very big and rocket shaped”.

FrostBite nodding, “and this-”, nodding his head down at Danny, “-happened immediately?”. Both teens nodding immediately. “Alright, we’ll assume there’s some form of contaminating substance mixed in with him, since he’s not reforming and healing on his own”. ShardHeart hooking up a filtration mixture, effectively just dumping the resulting powder in with the Danny goo; his ectoplasm was basically already exposed so there wasn’t any need to ‘feed’ it into him. FrostBite pushing all three back away from the capsule as mist starts steaming out of it, impurities leaving Danny’s ectoplasm. LeftSnow sticking some kind of detector type tool into the mist, sucking it up, and frowning, “yeah this is a high corrosive, could have ended a weaker ghost”.

Sam crossing her arms, “so if they’d hit Danny with this when he was fourteen he’d probably have been ended”. LeftSnow nodding seriously, “that would be very likely, yes”. Sam just scowls and continues watching Danny from a safe distance. LeftSnow continuing to suck up the substance to make sure it doesn’t have the potential to mix in with the Zone’s free-floating ectoplasm.

After about ten minutes Danny just snaps back together as he’s supposed to, making a face and groaning a little, doesn’t wake up though. Jazz shaking her head, “Nocturne can be a bit of a pain”.

FrostBite chuckling, “it doesn’t help that the Great One ignores his need for sleep so often and readily”. Jazz shaking her head, “and I keep telling him how bad that is but somethings are more important to him than sleep”.

Sam scoffing, “not much different from you and your studying”.

“That will advance my career and it’s educational”.

“And Danny has needs and he’s helping people”, Sam nodding to herself, “that’s a better reason”.

Tucker shaking his head at the two girls, looking to ShardHeart, “is he good for us to take back home? I’m pretty sure Nocturne has basically just taken the whole place over and isn’t going to leave till the ‘little dignity’ is back”. FrostBite chuckles to himself but doesn’t comment.

ShardHeart hums and eyes the sleeping boy, “I would prefer to keep him here for observation, but he’s going to wreck things if he wakes up and realises anyone kept him here longer than absolutely necessary”. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all laughing or smirking at that, because it was very true. Danny was a shit like that. Either way ShardHeart and LeftSnow waving them to go ahead, Sam and Tucker picking him up by his wrists and ankles. Jazz nodding, “now, how? Are we supposed to get back?”. Earning owlish blinks in response.

FrostBite sighs internally, he really had been having a nice largely relaxing day.

The G.I.W. were pissed their newest corrosion rocket -which may or may not have qualified as a war crime and possibly a violation of the Geneva convention- was supposed to completely dissolve any ecto-filth instantaneously, nothing more needed. Just reduce Phantom to goop, do crowd control, keep the Fenton’s from getting involved or claiming ownership, and collect the remains for further study. Phantom maxed out their ecto-scanners, It was a powerful monster, if they could eliminate It then the ghost issue would be solved and they could move on to that disgusting false afterlife where the creatures resided. But no, not only did it not fully work, but the other ghost that they had been banking on as a suitable distraction had been far stronger than they had been prepared for.

While one agent had managed to fire another round at the Nocturne ghost before passing out, however the ghost merely tore off the part of It that corrosively liquefied and threw it at them like feces.

The cleanliness violations were piling up rapidly. Head office would not be pleased.

A bunch of teenagers even managed to not only stop them from getting so much as a single sample but also were able to flee with the ghost. A complete failure and waste of their (the taxpayers) money… well not entirely. They’ve learned that at least this other strange ghost that maxes out their scanner would ‘protect’ Phantom, it confirmed their theories, Phantom was very much one of the monsters just toying with humans, except far more sinister. Phantom was trying to fool the American people, break down their distrust, and then like all other ectoplasmic filth attack the American people. It was far more a threat to national security and the American people than any other abomination. The fact that every agent that went near that town now became unresponsive was further proof; they were being blocked by a clear aggressor ghost from talking to, giving aid to, or reprogramming anyone while Phantom was mia. Clearly a plot. Clearly an attempt to stop humanity, America, from reclaiming her town from the clutches of Its kind. Vile monsters.

Then the large ghost swirls in on itself, funnelling down into the town, Agent F squinting, “go, get in there. The thing must have run out of steam. Get something of a foothold in there before Phantom returns or It regains its strength”, grumbling, “probably by eating someone, foul creatures. Those indoctrinated townsfolk would probably view the sacrifice as a blessing”. Multiple G.I.W. armoured vehicles that had been on stand by start moving to converge on the small town.

Nocturne grins, hunched over and coiled around the little prince, so much power and healed already. The Infinite Realm would bloom under him, they’re pleased not only for that but also that a child ghost hadn’t been ended on their watch. No child ghost, especially not this one, should be ended and especially not by living mortal hands. Pathetic living creatures, acting as if they’d earned their existence the way the dead have. They were only alive by the random chance hands of the reincarnation and creation cycle, ghosts had earned their place to exist by necessity and by suffering.

That darkly dressed fraid-mate puts her hands on her hips and glares, “you better wake him and everyone up or so help me I will find a way to fell an Ancient”. So headstrong, so commanding; as if she had any place to order them around truly. But, they’d… respect this ghost child’s fraid, the High Ghost Prince’s fraid.

So with an eye roll, they release their mental hold on the little one and his little lair-folk. The roar of those silly mortal vehicles approaching from the distance, they’re tempted to do something about it but well….

FrostBite huffs, cracking a set of knuckles, “this”, smirking wolfishly, “will be fun”.

The little prince grumbling a, “that’s nice, Frostypa”; while the young ones fraid basically yanks him out of Nocturne’s grasp, as if Nocturne wasn’t actively allowing them to do so. The boy is hardly worth sparring with now and he’s quite well rested as well, they’re content to take their leave entirely. Let those FarFrozen yetis deal with the silly government mortals that dare threaten a child ghost; and let all Phantom’s little lair-folk wake up to an interesting show.

By the time Jack woke up, he could hear chanting, the kind he’d expect to hear at a sports game actually!

“Woo! Go get ‘em yeti guy!”.

“That’s right! Sock him in the jaw! Go for the crotch!”.

“Burn! Baby! BURN!”.

“Who’s the ghost with the most!?! Not you! But still kick his ass!”.

Jack shaking his head and sitting up on the side of the street, right he’d got a shot in on Phantom and then all Hell broke loose and he got? knocked out? by a pillow ghost. At least it didn’t feel like he’d bumped his head!

It takes him a bit to get to where all the noise is coming from, expecting Mad’s to already be there (she is), and staring a bit. There was a yeti, a ghost yeti but still a yeti, snarling and throwing both G.I.W. vehicles and G.I.W. agents around like toys! The ghost even reminded him of himself even! The ghost laughing boisterously and grinning, all sharp teeth, happily.

But also! He’s never seen a ghost yeti before! Did It form based on common human myth and lore? People’s superstitions perhaps? So many possibilities! And clearly Mad’s had the same idea, since she’s hiding around a building taking notes. Heck, even Phantom is just observing somehow looking no worse for the wear!

A G.I.W. agent grumbles, “damn freaks, this town is completely insane”. Jack couldn’t even disagree with that! But also, the G.I.W. tried to buy away all his life’s work and he’s not about to actually side with them.

Phantom shouting, “tell him to suck on deez nuts!”. And for some absurd hilarious reason the yeti ghost actually does it. Jack can’t help but laugh, even if he didn’t get the darn ghost boy this time there was always more chances and he’d rather lose Phantom today than let the G.I.W. have his prize. Phantom was so strange, the things they could learn! That privilege belonged to proper ghost hunters! Not some silly government group!

Was Danny a fan of his random bullshit day? Obviously not! Nocturne went and rode his ass about his sleeping habits again, then his dad decided to shoot him one in the back like that wasn’t totally a cheap shot, and then G.I.W. decided to liquify his ass… and legs and stomach and feet. Sure he got to catch up on his sleep but he also probably gave his Frostypa a minor core attack or at least made the guy shake his head at Danny’s general bullshit; even if FrostBite made some comments after about it ‘having been a while’ since he ‘terrorised some humans’, good to know at least one or two ‘yeti’ sightings was probably ol’ Frosty messing with some poor idiot.

At least Danny didn’t really remember being half goo, even if Jazz told him it was very disgusting and Tuck said he was the consistency of syrup, Sam just smacked him and told him to pay more attention to his surroundings. Hey! It wasn’t like he really needed to, he was a tough cookie these days.

But the G.I.W. were chased out of town again, his sister and friends were disappointed in his dumbassery yet again, and his folks were so focused in on their new findings (ghosts can possibly be formed from myths and legends! Is this amazing! Apparent Phantom is still a child somehow! It’s my that weird! We should write another biased and bigoted paper based near entirely of our half baked assumptions! Aren’t you proud!?! Don’t you want to run FentonWorks some day!?! Do you want to help write a paper even though you’ll have to leave out all the actual facts you know!?!) that they couldn’t be bothered to chase Phantom him around for a while.

So everything’s an even win in his opinion. Even if even Val/Red called Phantom an idiot for thinking everything was a net positive. She shot him, he made a joke about their relationship being a little too sadomasochist for his liking, she shot him again; then he went home for some only one third burnt pasta and aunt Alicia’s pie (Danny did not have a slice. Danny could smell that someone peed in it. Jazz followed his lead. They both cringed at their dad having a slice merrily).

End.

Prompts: When the GIW/Fentons get a lucky shot on Danny during a ghost fight, severely hurting him, the ghost he'd been fighting suddenly gets very protective and attacks the ghost hunters. Something about them hurting a baby? GIW encounter leaves Danny down for the count, forcing his friends and Jazz to step in to defend him until he can get taken away to the Far Frozen.