#it was impossible to ignore that something is going on

[harmonysanreads]

Anatomy Of A Hug

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. Phainon, Mydei, Anaxa

Heads Up : Soft Yandere themes, Anaxa needs to see a therapist, Written before version 3.1, My Delusions I guess. I merely missed them a lot and decided to write something silly quickly orz.

-; ੈ♡˳ PHAINON

In the simplest terms, Phainon hugs with his everything. He's not shy to initiate skin-contact, will press himself to you accordingly — unless you voice out discomfort. He's diligent in wrapping his arms around your person securely, should you fancy melting in the bliss he offers. Though, his dexterity with hugs was honed through practice. In the beginning, the strength of a seasoned warrior had been more prevalent. A good amount of discussion (read: pleading to breathe) and experimentation snapped him out of the rush of pleasantries and reminded him of how precious a person he was dealing with.

Front hugs, back hugs, side hugs, bear hugs — he's okay with whatever you're comfortable with. His personal preference is going through all kinds of hugs he knows of manually ; first to shield you from all the evil that preys on your vulnerability, then scooping you up from the pull of gravity, a hearty squeeze to assure you of his protection, followed by a thrilling spin that will repel all bad thoughts out of your orbit. Until all the vestiges of weariness and stress have been replaced clean with the smiles he so adores.

Phainon is not one to be satisfied with short exchanges of warmth, the duration of these hugs tend to be quite long — or, as long as he can get away with before he has to commit to a Hero's responsibilities. Just as he initiates hugs with all of his soul, he expects the same when it comes to receiving them. Phainon prefers to be coddled, held with a promise of protection, ironically. Allow him to kneel and bring him close to your heart, weave your fingers through his hair, soothe the tension in his shoulders and he'll abandon the Flame-Chase altogether.

It's impossible to stir him in those moments, unless your safety happened to be at stake. As such, it's best for you to bid farewell to any other plans. Once he has memorized the nature of this exchange well, he goes beyond and utilizes it to deal with other nuisances. You cannot blame him, not when it has been proven that distracting you with a hug deters both the interference and yourself from paying heed to a mere passer-by. Sometimes his hug offers a bit less comfort and appears more as a shackle. Should you think to point this out, bear this in mind — your embrace is the last thread keeping his sanity intact.

-; ੈ♡˳ MYDEI

You must not care for your life at all, or at least, that's the thought Mydei found himself having when he was faced with the gesture. While the Crown Prince was not ignorant of the existence of a hug, he merely never had the opportunity to be properly acquainted with it. Not that it was necessary to know of it either, he can't win battles by hugging his opponents now, can he? As such, his reaction had been quite the spectacle when you initiated it. Begin by asking if he'd like a hug (throw in a ‘my prince’ at the end, sweetly), if his expression doesn't change then that means a ‘yes’, approach him calmly and wrap your arms around him next — be patient, he'll eventually reciprocate, given that you read the cues right.

If Mydei has to express affection, he'll do so in his own ways. It's already enough of an inconvenience that whenever he thinks of you, his head becomes blurred with clouds of emotions he's unable to decipher. That mushy sensation he feels inside whenever you have the audacity to hug him is just unfiltered agony to his mind. The journey to getting him less repulsed to the gesture has to be fueled by patience and understanding. Only when it clicks in his head that the feelings your hugs incite are not so dissimilar from the ones he gets by indulging in a plate of golden honeycakes does he warm up to the gesture.

Even then, Mydei is very particular about his preferences. Wave goodbye to the dream of spooning the prince any time soon, he's made it clear that that privilege is reserved for him alone. He'll always pull your head towards his chest and headlock you in place. If it's not possible to do so while standing, he'll sit down and gather you on his lap even — but he'll never allow his field of vision to be obstructed. Allowing this already renders you both vulnerable to attacks, he'll reason. He needs to remain vigilant, for the sake of your safety ; not that he'll translate the intention word by word.

Despite your efforts, you've discovered that ridding the prince of his stiffness is near-impossible, even if it's in private. His is not a life that's seen much comfort. Pay attention to the minute shifts in his eyes and you'll realize that the actual reason for his stilted posture, is because of the restraint he's exercising in unleashing his strength. It is a valid concern, he won't even need both of his hands to kill you. Death has rejected him countless times but awaits your departure in anticipation, he's merely mindful of its preying gaze.

-; ੈ♡˳ ANAXA

You are one fearless fellow if you initiated a hug with Anaxa, or you simply don't care about the fact that he's renowned as the scholar who most people are happy to avoid. The scholar in question would most likely call you an idiot though, you really need a thorough lesson in deciphering which men you must never approach. Not that he will be giving it, his time and energy are not to be wasted on such trivial concerns. Although he won't deny, with this brazen act, you've proven yourself to be a bit above the notion of ‘trivial’.

You think approaching the scholar is not so different from trying to befriend a cat, failure in the beginning is inevitable — only through persistence can you triumph. It's a task alone to try to acquaint yourself with him, getting him accustomed to physical affection might just be an acid test. The scholar has had no need for a rudimentary touch of another's skin, he'll say with a dignified hiss. But if you're observant, you'd know it's just a ruse to hide the depth of the depravation he's not allowing himself to acknowledge.

After much trial and error, when he finally bends to your efforts and accepts a hug, he's stiff and awkward, unsurprisingly. His hands wander as if settling on one place would burn his skin, face firmly hidden in the crook of your neck in what you can only assume is embarrassment. You would've teased him about the fierce flush on his ears and nape, if he hadn't ended the contact upon realizing his behavior. The scholar didn't dare face you for the next week, reflecting upon the incident vigorously.

Initially, his hugs were short, filled with muttered complaints to distract you from the firmness of his grip. The increasing average duration and his waning unwillingness towards the gesture did not go unnoticed by him at all. He knows the basic biological cause and it served as his rationale for quite a while. Yes, the reward system's activities are all there is to it, surely he possesses enough willpower to end this indulgence any time he wishes.

What he didn't anticipate though was you beating him to it, baffling him with your sudden consideration for his personal space. You are cruelty incarnate, conditioning him to this banal addiction and leaving him to deal with the consequences by himself? Now that is one preposterous claim to marvel at. It's wise if you cease pushing the man and retract your words. And if you don't? You're more than welcomed to repeat your jest at the firing point of his gun.

[bywons]

GOING OVERDRIVE ★ NRK

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾

【 𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑 】 ｡ 𝖻𝖺𝖽𝖻𝗈𝗒!𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂 & 𝖿!𝗋 1166w 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ━━━━ 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 ❛ 愛 ❜

する ܃ badboy riki back on bywons ? :0

reb𝑙ogs ꪆৎ 𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

“whose bike is that?”

riki whips his head around the instant he hears your voice from the porch of your house. your eyebrows are jotted together, a suspicious look on your face as you stand a few feet away from him.

he notices the thin shawl draped over your shoulders, barely clinging on as the cold night breeze threatens to carry it away.

“come closer,” he whispers, an urgent tone in his voice. you obey him, rolling your eyes as you stand in front of the revving bike. “why are you wearing a shawl in this weather—”

“don’t try to change the subject,” you scold, narrowing your eyes and pulling the shawl tighter around yourself, “whose bike is this, riki?”

a low chuckle answers your question as he turns off the engine and climbs off the bike, his signature oversized leather jacket swinging from his shoulders— one which you’ve probably seen him in since day one. with the signature smirk on his face, riki motions towards the bike, “yours for the night, princess.”

you playfully hit riki’s arm, although he catches it right in time like he always does. riki uses your wrist to pull you closer, pulling a soft gasp from you too.

he has always been like this, showing up unannounced, usually at the most inconvenient times. whether it was bringing you random snacks he swore you’d love, sneaking you out of family dinners for a quick joyride, or revving his bike outside your house just loud enough to annoy your neighbors, he thrived on chaos. and somehow, he always managed to rope you into it.

it was always something with riki.

you sigh, slowly pulling away your hand from his soft embrace. your teeth clatter against each other in the nippy weather. looking up at him, you say softly, “seriously riki, whose bike is that? are you even allowed to drive? plus im outside my house at 3am without my parents knowing—”

“relax,” riki interrupts, his smirk softening into something calmer, almost reassuring. without missing a beat, he shrugs off his oversized leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the sudden warmth of the jacket, paired with the faint scent of him—leather and something fresh, like mint—wraps around you, silencing the rest of your protests.

you blink up at him, caught off guard. “riki…”

“you’re shivering,” riki points out, trying to ignore your doe eyes at him, “i don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“that’s not the point,” you mutter, tugging the jacket closer to your body despite yourself. it’s far too big for you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, but the warmth is impossible to ignore. “you’re dodging the question.”

“im not dodging it,” he says casually, leaning back against the bike just to stare better at you, “it’s my friends, he owed me one and so i thought to make the best of it. im also nineteen so yes, i can drive. and about your parents…”

he pauses, pulling you closer yet one more time until you are pressed against his warm chest again, conducting yet another wave of solace within you.

his smirk returns, this time teasing but somehow softer as he tilts his head, his dark eyes glinting under the dim light. “well, they don’t have to know, do they? unless you’re planning to rat me out, princess.”

your breath hitches, his words sending a mix of irritation and warmth through you. “riki,” you start, but he cuts you off again, leaning in closer so that his face is just inches from yours. he cups your face with one hand, while the other grabs the extra helmet from the handlebars of his bike. riki presses a caring, soft kiss against your lips which makes you forget your tensed thoughts about the night.

when he pulls away, he’s already slipping the helmet over your head, his smirk never fading, “just relax, and trust me.”

“just don’t make us crash,” you scoff, watching riki climb on the bike before you do the same, your head finding his shoulders to rest on as soon, as he starts his bike.

as the bike speeds through the quiet streets, the cold night air rushes past you, but riki’s warmth and the scent of leather and mint keep you grounded. you rest your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. at moments like these, you thank nishimura riki the most to add little exciting shenanigans in your life, without which you would be incomplete.

the roads are nearly empty, save for a few early risers—shop owners rolling up their shutters, joggers making their rounds, and street vendors setting up their stalls. after a few more turns, he slows down, eventually parking the bike near a quiet riverside. the view takes your breath away—the sky painted in shades of dawn, the water reflecting the soft glow of the rising sun. the world feels still, peaceful.

“okay,” you say, stepping off the bike. “this is actually nice.”

riki dramatically puts his hand over his chest, “a compliment from you? surprising.”

“don't ruin the moment,” you scoff, swatting at his arm and earning a hearty laugh from him— as well as a soft kiss on your forehead.

a soft wind blows by and you pull rikis oversized leather jacket closer to you, the mint scent sinking in. “cold again?” riki asks, hugging you from behind and resting his chin upon your shoulder.

“you should be cold,” you nod your head, “you gave me your jacket.”

riki adjusts his own jacket over your body, “that's cause it looks better on you.”

you mumble a small “thanks,” feeling your cheeks warm despite the chilly weather.

for a while, you both sit on the grass, watching the soft hues of dawn paint the sky, the lake reflecting shades of pink and gold. the world feels quiet, almost like it belongs only to the two of you. riki absentmindedly tosses pebbles into the water, and soon, you’re competing over whose skips the farthest.

at one point, he chuckles, nudging your shoulder. “you know, if your dad finds out about this, you’re probably getting grounded for life.”

and that's when reality hits you and you whip your head towards riki, eyes wide in horror, “what time is it now?”

“uh, like 4 am, why?”

“my dad wakes up at 4:30 for his morning run!” you exclaim, quickly getting up on your feet, “if he finds out i'm not home then i’m dead!”

riki stares at you for a second before realization sinks in. “oh… oh, shoot.”

riki rushes back to the bike, and you’re right behind him. the moment you both hop on, he tries to start the engine.

tries.

but nothing happens.

“…riki?” you say slowly, dread pooling in your stomach.

riki gives an awkward chuckle, turning the key again. still nothing.

you grip his arm. “riki.”

finally, he exhales, looking back at you with a nervous smile. “baby…i think we’re out of petrol.”

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

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[reginyani]

hiiii

maybe rossi hosting a lil summer get together at his mantion and bau!reader wears this blouse: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1030339220974014138/ and spencer just going crazy over ittttt

I love this request! heres a little blurb for you anon<3

Summer Daze | s.reid x fem!bau!reader

summary: You show up to Rossi's outdoor summer party wearing something that makes Spencer go absolutely nuts.

cw: mentions of readers body/collarbones, flirty!reader, nothing else really (if im missing smth lmk!)

wc: 596

Rossi's backyard glowed in the warm summer light. Lanterns hung from the trees, tables were adorned with vases of beautiful flowers, and the sound of gentle conversation and laughter filled the air.

You hadn’t been there long before you felt Spencer’s eyes on you, his gaze magnetic and impossible to ignore.

The blouse you had chosen for the evening was light and airy, perfect for the summer heat. It was a soft cream color, finely sheer but with enough lace and texture to keep it classy. It flowed gracefully as you moved, teasingly revealing glimpses of your skin. The neckline and straps framed your collarbones beautifully.

Spencer had seen you dressed up before, but this was different, and it was driving him crazy. His mind latched onto the details—the way the soft fabric hinted at your silhouette without giving much away, the way the neckline drew his attention like a magnet compared to the other details, and the way the fabric shimmered in the sunlight. It was overwhelming, a feeling he wasn’t used to.

He tried to focus on the conversation Rossi was leading with the group, but it was no use. His eyes kept darting back to you, tracking every move you made. You didn’t seem to notice the effect you had on him, which only made it worse.

Until you caught him.

You were mid-laugh with Emily, JJ, and Penelope when you turned, locking eyes with Spencer for just a moment too long. A smile curved your lips as you excused yourself from the girls and walked toward him, the blouse swaying softly with each step.

“Hey, Spencer,” you said warmly, breaking him out of his trance as you sat down. “You doing alright?”

He blinked a few times, as if trying to reboot his brain. “Uh, yeah, yeah… I’m fine.” But the crack in his voice betrayed him.

You tilted your head, chuckling softly. “You sure? You seem a little… distracted.”

His gaze dipped for a split second, his eyes landing on the lace detailing along the edge of your neckline before snapping back to meet yours. “The blouse,” he blurted out, wincing at his own words. “I mean—it’s really nice. It suits you.”

Your cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment, but you decided to push him just a little further. “Oh, really? You like it? I was actually thinking about not wearing it at all,” you lied.

Oh, how Spencer wished you hadn’t worn it. The distraction was too much, and he felt the heat creeping up his neck. “Yes. I mean—it’s very… elegant. And, uh, summery.”

You laughed softly, the sound drawing a shy smile from him. “Thanks, Spence,” you said, leaning in just a bit closer. “That makes me feel a little better about it. I wasn’t sure if it was too much, but I’m glad you approve.”

His breath hitched as he caught a faint trace of your perfume. He scrambled for a coherent reply. “It’s not too much at all. It’s perfect. You look—” he paused, “great.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Spencer wanted to dig a hole and disappear. But the gentle smile spreading across your face told him he hadn’t fucked anything up.

“Careful there, Spencer,” you teased, making his heart skip a beat. “If you keep talking to me like that, I might start to think you’re flirting with me.”

His face turned a deep shade of pink. Before he could respond, you stood and walked back to the girls with a playful wink, leaving him sitting there, utterly undone.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Streamer Boyfriend//////

Rules | Kofi | Masterlist

Streamer boyfriend who on the first date is really upfront about what he does. What seemed like a preview of transparency turns out to be a warning for the erosion of your privacy. As you begin to spend more time with your Streamer Boyfriend you’ll find just how much it’s beginning to bother you.

“Chat you guys are so mean! Their bathroom is a little messy but it’s not a red flag!”

Off-screen and whispering you ask, “Why are you filming in my bathroom?”

“Because chat wanted to take a look at your place? Why what’s the matter?”

“I don’t want these random people knowing the layout of my house!”

“Oh….well you can stay at mine if you want...for safety!”

If it weren’t for his impossibly good looks and otherwise male wife behavior you would have left him then and organizing your schedules so that you’re not forced to be a part of his vlogging. It’s a little tiring because sometimes he ‘forgets’ or ‘slips up’ putting more of yourself on the internet than you were ever okay with doing. 

“Everyone be sure to tune in four hours by then I’ll have eaten, slept, and finally get to tear up that cute jumper my baby’s got on.”

“Wrath!?”

“Sorry guys signing off! See y’all later!”

You give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s his livelihood, his business, his community, his hobby—you wouldn’t want to take that away just cause it occasionally makes you uncomfortable. So you excuse them all. His mistakes, his overreaching. It doesn’t really hit you in the face until something terrible has happened.

“Are you (Y/n) (L/n)?”

“Is there a problem officer?”

“I’ve been told to inform you…about your cousin's passing.”

“Oh my gosh!? No!”

“We’d also like to know when’s the last time you spoke to them…we suspect this is likely a homicide.”

Your poor cousin who you recently reconnected with has violently perished. Unfortunately because the majority of your family is out of the country or otherwise indisposed, it’s up to you to handle most of their investigation. Identifying her mutilated body and telling the detectives what you knew about each of their friends. For a while, the investigating officers are relieved to know you have a loving boyfriend to support you during this rough time only for that relief to turn into disgust when your boyfriend whips his phone out in the morgue….

“I’m going back to mine. I’ll have my friends come pick anything else I need.”

“B-but babe weren’t you worried about your place getting exposed? I-I’m okay if we take the break at mine–”

“No. I’ll be staying with a friend.”

 “Who?”

“None of your business. Thanks for the…memories.”

It's a shame you are no longer dating the infamous WrathWarrior according to your more distant friends who ignore the reason you left in the first place. Thankfully a few good friends are all you need, you take on the funeral preparations, and the rest of the homicide investigation smoothly. When you aren’t crying your eyes out, brainstorming with a detective, or crying in your bed you occasionally venture to your ex-streamer boyfriend’s stream. 

“Hey everyone it is Day 11 of being without the love of my life….Let’s have fun, with this game today.”

There he is still smiling and streaming as if he didn’t do this to himself.  You figure it’s better off this way. If he had the camera in your face during moments of crisis, he may have never come to respect your desire for privacy and would one day cross a line that would change everything forever. It really was better off this way.

‘Go back to him. You don’t want anyone else to die.’

The cryptic message on your social media came a month after your breakup. Still recovering from your loss and suffering the sting of an unsolved investigation, you are puzzled over the message from what looks like a newly created account. Knowing better than to click on some scammer's link, you blocked the message, thinking that would be the end of whatever weird new scam this was. But alas, a newer account sent the same thing on everything, including your direct messages.

“See detective? Isn’t this weird? It wouldn’t let me take a screenshot but it’s in every app!”

SNAP

“Well, we’ve got a record of it now. Don’t click the link until I can get the team to hook up to this. Go home stay safe.”

Doing as you're told, you return to your temporary home. Waiting for your friend to return you end up looking at the message again, filling the hours with your theorizing at the mysterious link and the ominous tone of the words itself. Narrowing down who it could be there’s only one man you can think of needing to ‘go back to’ is none other than Wrath. When you think about it that way this makes sense that it’s some dedicated and deluded fan probably some mining link to get more of your private info. You sighed exiting the app and attempting to relax again while waiting for your friend to return…they should of got off work hours ago…

Ring. Ding. 

Your phone rings with a new message and reading it makes your blood run cold.

‘You need to see this. It’s about your friend.’

It feels voyeuristic that this unknown person would have the answers to your creeping anxiety. The urgency of the message makes it that much easier to ignore the detective’s warnings, finally clicking on the link. Expecting to see your phone flash with a threat for your information you aren’t prepared for the video that loads. Seeing a blurry video of some incredibly familiar pixels squirming in a chair slowly becoming clearer.

“This is Day 34 of being without the love of my life and we’re getting ready for a very special night where we break-in some of our new arrivals. Especially this one.” 

It’s Wrath unmasked and pulling at the hair of what is definitely your friend crying behind a ball of cloth. It’s horrifying and you almost don’t believe what your seeing is even real. The continued ramblings of Wrath fogging your brain as you try and piece everything together. The controls to interact were darker than the streams you’d looked at before, the url for the website was different, and most glaringly different was the oddly opulent room with furniture restraining your friend. 

“On top of this thing,” he poked at them aggressively–no doubt puncturing with his nail.”We’ve also got an entire group. Silly little investigators looks like they’ve never heard of Wrath’s Colloseum! Guess we’ll have to show all of them what kind of fun we get down to chat!”

The familiar officers and the detective being wheeled in on chairs matching that of your friend’s. It looked like a row of electric chairs attached to one another, wood and dotted with the blood of what you guess must be from past ‘guests’.

Your phone rings again. It’s the anonymous user.

‘It’s up to you. If they live.’

The message was your last wake-up call. Wrath had pulled out a tray of tools, showing them off to the camera as he spoke about what gruesome bloody acts he could do. He kept turning back to your friend who wiggled in protest everytime, he decided to model what the tool would do. It’s then that you were finally able to do something about this. 

RING–

“Hello?”

“...Hey, I really missed you and I was wondering if you could come over. Like right now.”

You tried to silence your trembling breath. Watching the man on his stream kick his foot up. 

“Awww so cute! Are you drunk calling me? Ugh you’re just as precious as before!” You let out a relieved sigh, thankfully you could save your friend and the investigators tied on screen. “But Daddy’s got a wrap something up so I’m going to make it as soon as I get finished okay?”

No that was not okay! If he finished what he wanted to you wouldn’t have a friend or any local police dedicated to solving your case. So with bated breath you reveal your only card.

“Wait! Please don’t kill them! I’ll get back with you! I’ll do anything just don’t hurt them!”

You watched the wistful kicking from your streamer boyfriend stop slowly turning to the camera. Completely unmasked and wearing a leaver trenchcoat stained with dried crimson spots, he saunters over to the camera lens. Staring into your soul through the lens he smiles. Just like he used to when you’d chat from your alt account, or when you agreed to hold the camera for a cooking stream or when you told him you loved him even though he was a streamer. But it turns out that was the least of your worries when it came to your exboyfriend. In truth, your ex-boyfriend was the worst kind of monster–an untouchable one. A monster that can abduct and torture people without needing to cover his face. An entertainer who was so coonsumed by his career that he had no problem letting the talons of his lifestyle suffocate anyone who tried to impede it. 

“So your watching, huh?”

The voice echoes from your phone and the stream playing on your computer. You barely have half a mind to see what the chat says firing off so incredibly fast. 

‘Is that them?’

‘ is honey bun back’

‘KILL THEM ALREADY’

‘aw is this the end of the series’

Your exboyfriend giggles at chat’s messages, turning to look over his shoulder openly sneering at all of his victims. He quickly snaps back

“Alright sweetie, I’ll save one just for you. Even better I’ll give them the antidote to a little concoction of mine if you come and join us on stream!”

“But I don’t know where you are and–”

“I’ll come pick you up in a bit, after chat votes on what we’ll be doing to the unclaimed meat. Like that chat? A big bang to wrap up the worst series of my life? I think that sounds like a great idea, chat!”

[revelboo]

Oh my gosh, The “Everything is Alright” drama just slowly ripling outward is so so juicy. Devouring this! Ur writing is so good. Every fic being gently connected is so fun. TY for the food!

I’m glad you enjoy my nonsense!

The pointy cryptid arrived!

Everything Is Alright Pt 121

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Watching Soundwave inspect your soft hands, turning them over in his and rumbling unhappily at the sight of your bleeding knuckles where you’d lashed out at Starscream, Megatron lays back on the berth. Unable to watch those two fussing over you, unable to deal with the problem of your lifespan along with your sparkling. And someone has to be full size and ready to defend their family. That thought catching him off guard. Is that what they are now? Fragged over by the universe into the most dysfunctional family ever. “Someone needs to teach you how to throw a punch,” he mutters. “You’re awful at it.”

• Almost laughing despite yourself, you hate that you want to relent. To bury your face against Starscream and soak in the warmth and familiarity of him. But know it’s a trap. “I can’t do this again. I won’t.” Glancing at Megatron, you tug your hand from Soundwave. Why can’t this be simple? Because you’re greedy and want more than you should. Because something is wrong with you and you can’t decide. “No more lying. No more plots.” No more not taking your voice into account. “Please.”

• Grimacing, Starscream’s aware of Megatron sprawled on his back, head turned to watch them. Watching him. And you’re asking him to stop trying to seize control, to ignore all the wrongs, the mistakes. The pain. Hand cupping your cheek, he ignores Megatron and Soundwave. Aware suddenly that you’ve given him the ultimate immunity against Megatron by fully bonding the warlord. You’d protected him for life from Megatron’s rage. “I only look to the future.” Sees you frown and nudges you with his head. “Our future. Together.” Knows he’s neglected you, focused on protecting you without stopping to even ask if you wanted to be protected, but he couldn’t risk losing you. Still can’t.

• Still upset, but your mind is calming as his servos curl around your upper arm, finding skin to strengthen the connection. Megatron had told him to bond to you again, but he can’t. Not when you’re still off kilter and unsure of everything. Hurting. Doesn’t want to take this time, wants you to reach out to him. “I don’t know if I can trust you. Any of you,” you mumble and his spark constricts. Because he’s had as much a part to play in this as the other two. He’d tried to manipulate you and Megatron, had done it to protect you, but had never thought about what you’d actually wanted. Though, apparently you had wanted Megatron. More than him. He���s trying so hard to not think about the fact that you held back with him, but submitted completely to Megatron. Wanting to believe that it hadn’t been you, that you’d unconsciously been offered a chance to survive and has seized it without being aware what you were doing. But it still hurts.

• “Trust is earned,” Megatron growls, servos pressing against his own chassis over his spark. Can barely sense that weak spark nestled inside him, that impossible life a way forward. How long has it been since there’s been a new generation? Well before the war began. Wants to hang on to that anger at what you’d done to him, about the inevitable complications and questions it’s going to cause, because at some point the spark will need to be transferred to a protoform. And that’s going to be noticed. And a sparkling will be even more helpless than you are. Staring at you rubbing your eyes, his spark constricts. Because you’re a problem. Vulnerable, helpless, and his life is dependent on yours. On no one figuring out that he’s fully bonded to you and deciding to take him out by killing one ridiculously fragile human. “I don’t see that we have much choice but to work together. Because anyone gunning for me will target our helpless little mate.”

• Mate not pet. You feel Starscream stiffen against you and you don’t know if it’s that he doesn’t want to get along with Megatron or even try or if he’s just now realizing that you’re going to be a target. It’s definitely not something you’d considered. But it really shouldn’t surprise you, because of course things can get worse.

Previous

[mingi-s-dimples]

Dear Diary... - San

~"Hi love hope you’re doing well✨ Ive read your San kitten fic and I enjoyed it 😀tremendously 🔥. Now If it’s ok with you (I couldn’t find it in your blog that if you’re ok with this kink or nah) to write [cnc+ dirty talk and corruption kink]with San?? And if not cnc anything that comes from authority figures of him. Pls plssss ignore this if it’s makes you uncomfortable ❤️🍓" ~ queen I haven't written cnc corruption kink in my life. I hope I got the idea, even the slightest 😞.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+

summary: san read your little journal.. and that ends with you screaming his name.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: dom!san, big dick!san, he eats her out, dirty talk, some cnc + corruption kink (he kinda softly makes her submit to it when he reads her diary + he doesn't care that she's a virgin and he actually encourages it even more so i guess it works? i'm so sorry i never wrote corruption kink before i promise i'll do better 😞💖), she's a virgin, neck holding and softly choking, marking all over, mamhandling, vaginal sex, he doesn't fuck he pounds, multiple orgasms, she screams out his name duh, some crumb of aftercare, cockwarming, unprotected (she's supposedly on bc but booo use protection!), unedited might edit later, for sure forgot something, completely consensual (after he makes her submit to him!)

Author's Note: woahhhh I haven't wrote in a while ngl. Felt good to be back.. sorry for not posting 😞. Life updates: Had 3 exams and I almost failed one but upsies it's maths 💀, had a bf for 3 days cause he acted weird and he said I'm his everything and that he loves me and that he can't be without me and I was like brotha ew we've been tgt for 3 days... and he got offended and unfollowed me everywhere 💀 boys these days... (i sound like a 70yo granma). Anyways I hope I'll post way more these days! There are only two exams to go, one this Friday and one this Saturday (for tutoring!) so I'll disappear again until Saturday night 🧍‍♀️ but I'll post on Sunday ! everyone cheer pls. Love youuuuuu allll

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The rich scent of steak still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint remnants of laughter and conversation from earlier in the evening. Your small apartment felt quieter now, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of San’s beer bottle against the counter breaking the silence.

The others had left hours ago, leaving just you and him—like it so often did. You couldn’t even remember how it had started, the unspoken rule that San always stuck around longer than anyone else, as if this place belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“You’re really not going to let those dishes wait until tomorrow, are you?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk. The casual authority in his tone was infuriatingly familiar, yet somehow impossible to ignore.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you stacked the last plate. “And let me guess—you’re going to stand there, drinking your beer, and not help.”

“Exactly.” His grin widened, infuriating and so utterly *him.* “I’ve got my role down. Yours is to overachieve and keep pretending you don’t have OCD about cleaning up after people.”

“I do not—” you started, only to cut yourself off with a sigh. There was no winning with San.

Instead, you gave him a look, grabbed the last of the plates, and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone,” you called back over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

San watched you go, waiting until the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed faintly down the hallway. Then his attention drifted lazily around the room.

Your apartment was familiar in a way that made it feel like a second home—organized chaos, with books, mismatched blankets, and stray notebooks scattered across every available surface. It was the kind of place that felt lived-in, every corner a reflection of your mind: half-stressed, half-dreaming.

It was a notebook on the coffee table that caught his eye.

It wasn’t hidden, exactly. Half-tucked under a glossy magazine, its leather cover gleamed faintly in the low light. The word *Private* was written neatly across the front in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere—yours.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Private, huh?” he murmured, setting his beer down and reaching for the notebook.

He flipped it open, expecting to find the usual: to-do lists, random doodles, or the same kind of perfectly planned schedules you’d been making since grade school. But instead, his eyes landed on something else.

*Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to lose control completely. To have someone take charge and make me do things I’d never admit I want. Things I’d never say out loud...*

San froze, his grin fading as his eyes skimmed over the words. The meaning hit him slowly, like a low-burning flame that spread heat through his chest and settled somewhere.. lower.

*...to be pinned down, held in place, unable to fight back but not really wanting to. To have someone whisper filthy things in my ear and tell me how much they love seeing me fall apart under their control...*

He swallowed hard, his grip on the notebook tightening as he kept reading. The words painted vivid pictures in his mind—images he’d never dared associate with you before, no matter how many times his teasing had drifted close to the edge.

But this was different. This wasn’t teasing. This was your handwriting, your fantasies laid bare on the pages in front of him.

And the worst—or maybe the best—part? He couldn’t stop reading.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped him out of it. He quickly snapped the notebook shut, placing it back on the coffee table just as you stepped into the room.

When your eyes landed on him, standing far too close to the coffee table, your expression immediately shifted. Suspicion flickered across your face, followed by alarm as you spotted the notebook.

“No,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper. “San... Tell me you didn’t.”

He arched a brow, leaning casually against the arm of the couch as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t what?”

Your stomach twisted. “You didn’t read that, did you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You left it out in plain sight, sweetheart. Hard not to be curious.”

“San!” Your voice rose in a mix of panic and mortification as you rushed over, snatching the notebook off the table. You clutched it to your chest, your cheeks burning so hot you could feel the heat spreading to your neck.

He watched you with infuriating calm, his dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite name. “Relax,” he said, his tone deceptively soothing. “It’s not like I read the whole thing.”

Your heart sank. “What... what did you read?”

San pushed off the couch and stepped closer, closing the space between you with deliberate ease. He stopped just inches away, towering over you in that way that always made you feel small—and not entirely in a bad way.

“Enough to know you’ve got some... interesting thoughts rattling around in that head of yours,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Care to explain?”

You shook your head, mortified. “No. Absolutely not. You shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he interrupted, his tone sharpening just slightly. “Picked it up? Read it? Or are you just embarrassed that I know now?”

You glared at him, though your resolve was already wavering. “This isn’t funny, San.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Who said I’m joking?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s time someone gave you what you’ve been asking for.”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, even though you knew you should.

San’s smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Mhm-” he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken intent.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, as if he could see through every feeble defense you were trying to put up. The notebook still clutched against your chest felt like a useless shield, doing nothing to block the heat of his presence or the weight of his words.

“Not going to tell me to stop?” he asked, the challenge clear in his tone. “Guess that means you don’t want me to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. “This is not funny, San,” you whispered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Funny? Not even a little.” He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker. “But it is fascinating. You, scribbling all those dirty thoughts down like a good little secret-keeper, acting all innocent around me—who would’ve guessed?”

“Stop,” you said, the word trembling as it left your lips.

“Why?” His brow arched in amusement, though his voice remained low and intent. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Or is it hitting a little too close to home?”

Before you could answer—or even think of a response—he reached out, plucking the notebook from your hands with maddening ease.

“San!” you exclaimed, reaching for it, but he held it out of reach, his grin never faltering.

“Let’s see,” he said, flipping it open again as your heart dropped into your stomach. “Ah, here it is... *I want to be taken—rough, merciless, made to feel like I can’t get enough.*” He glanced at you, his smirk widening at the audible hitch in your breath. “Quite the vivid imagination you’ve got there, sweetheart.”

“Give it back!” you said, your voice cracking.

“Why?” He shifted the notebook to his other hand, holding it out of reach. “Are you scared because I know how badly you want this?”

Your knees felt weak as he stepped closer, invading your space with the kind of confidence that left you feeling unmoored.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying and failing to glare at him.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin sharpening. “But at least I’m honest. You? Not so much.”

San’s free hand brushed against your jaw, his touch light but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his voice teasing but softer. “Is it embarrassment? Ouu, is it.. something else?”

“San,” you said, his name coming out more like a plea than a protest.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head as his thumb traced along your jawline. “Can’t take the heat?”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “Thought so.”

Without warning, his hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you closer. His other hand dropped the notebook onto the couch, freeing him to let his fingers trail down your arm, light enough to make you shiver.

“You know what I think?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

You shook your head, your breath uneven.

“I think you’ve been waiting for someone to see past all that sweet, good-girl bullshit,” he continued, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw, “and call you what you really are.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words lodging in your throat. “San...”

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, enough to make you gasp. “What’s wrong? Don’t like hearing it? Or do you like it too much?”

The way your thighs pressed together didn’t escape his notice, and his grin sharpened.

“You’re easy to read,” he said softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”

Your lips parted, a faint whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower to trace the curve of your waist. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, the air between you crackling with tension. He didn’t kiss you, but the sheer proximity left you trembling.

“You can tell me to stop,” he said again, his voice rough but steady. “One word, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.”

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

San’s grin returned, slower and more deliberate. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to push you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “to see how far you’ll let them go. Haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

San leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “Say the word,” he said quietly. “And I’ll stop.”

Your silence said everything, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

Before you could process his words, his hands were on you again—fast, firm, deliberate. His grip was steady as he lifted you effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing at all. A gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but the smirk never left his face.

“You wrote about this, didn’t you?” San teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he carried you across the room. “Right there in your little journal. I had no idea you had such... vivid thoughts.”

He dropped you on the bed. San stood at the edge of it, arms crossed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. You were there, sprawled across the mattress, your chest heaving from the tension that hung heavy between you. The heat of your earlier argument still simmered in the air, but now the power had shifted entirely into his hands—and you both knew it.

“You’ve been quiet ever since,” San murmured, his voice low and mocking as he stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Not so bold now that I know what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours?”

Your gaze darted away, heat creeping up your neck, but San wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed in one smooth motion, his weight sinking the mattress as he caged you beneath him. One hand pressed into the sheets beside your head, while the other traced the curve of your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t even think about hiding from me now,” he said softly, the mockery in his tone laced with undeniable command. “Not after everything you wrote. Not after you left me to read between the lines of those fantasies you scribbled down so... shamelessly.”

Your breath hitched, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, which only made his smirk widen.

“I have to admit,” he continued, leaning closer until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear, “I didn’t know you could be *this* filthy. Wanting to be manhandled? Thrown around? Tamed?” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone both teasing and heavy with promise. “Tell me, did you ever imagine I’d actually do it?”

“I-..” You shuddered beneath him, your fingers curling into the sheets as you struggled to form a response. But San was relentless, his hand trailing down to your throat, his grip firm but not restricting as he tilted your head up toward him.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he whispered, his gaze locking with yours. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left that journal out. When you wrote about how badly you wanted someone to take control. To leave you breathless, shaking… *ruined.*”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline, his hand still firm on your throat. “Admit that you’ve been waiting for me to push you like this. That you wanted me to see *every* word of it.”

“I—” your voice faltered, trembling under the weight of his intensity. “Mh..mhm” you were only able to mumble some word.

His fingers loosened just enough to stroke the column of your neck. “Good girl.”

He leaned back just slightly, enough to drink in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and trembling. His grin was wicked as he reached for your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that left no room for resistance.

“Now,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips hovered mere inches from yours, “let’s see if you’re ready to live up to everything you wrote, sweetheart.”

Your head tilted back against the mattress, and the tension in the room thickened until it was nearly suffocating. The way San hovered above you, all sharp grins and teasing touches, had you trembling with anticipation. But as his words replayed in your mind, something inside you snapped.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, your voice shaky but certain. “You’ve already read it. You know exactly what I want.”

San’s brow arched, his smirk sharpening as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You. All of you. No teasing, no holding back.” Your voice softened, almost a whisper now. “Please.”

San let out a low chuckle, his dark gaze flickering with amusement and something darker—something primal. “You’re begging now?” he mused, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear that so soon.”

“I’m serious,” you said, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your jawline. “No going back now. Just—just fuck me, San.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as though savoring the sight of you so vulnerable beneath him. Then, with deliberate ease, he sat back and tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, the fabric landing somewhere behind him.

You couldn’t help it; your eyes roamed over his toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle catching the dim light. Your breath caught, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t wait for an answer, peeling the fabric off your body just as effortlessly. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under the intensity of it.

“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his hands moved to your waistband. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding your pants down your legs with maddening precision.

But then he stopped.

Stepping back, he straightened to his full height, his hands already moving to unbuckle his own belt. The metallic clink of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he worked.

He was slow—so agonizingly slow—pulling the leather free and tossing it aside before unbuttoning his pants. The sharp sound of his zipper being undone felt deafening in the charged silence, and the deliberate pace had your heart racing.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smug as he slid the denim down his hips, revealing inch after inch of skin.

You didn’t answer, too captivated by the sight of him to form a coherent thought. Your gaze locked onto him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach as desire overtook every part of you.

“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping closer, his smirk never fading. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him with nothing but raw, unfiltered lust. “Not even close.”

His laugh was deep, rumbling, and utterly intoxicating. “Good,” he said simply, lowering himself back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “Because I’m just getting started.”

San crawled over you with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His weight pressed into the mattress, pinning you in place as he leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, teasing but not yet giving.

One of his hands wrapped firmly around your neck, the pressure just enough to remind you who was in control. The way his thumb brushed against the side of your throat made your breath hitch, a soft gasp escaping you as your body instinctively arched toward him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

His other hand was down around his cock, his movements slow, lazy, and unhurried as he stroked himself. The subtle motion made your mouth go dry, your gaze flickering downward for a split second before snapping back up to meet his. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the way your body responded to the tension crackling between you.

San smirked at your reaction, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your neck as he brought his lips closer, brushing them lightly against yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—but the sensation was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through you.

Then, just as you started to lean up, desperate for more, the hand from his cock moved. Slowly, almost torturously, he trailed it from himself to your thigh. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, before he hooked his hand under your leg and spread it out beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp as his palm pressed against the inside of your knee, holding you open with deliberate ease. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips finally crashing against yours. The kiss was searing, hungry, and consuming, his hand still firm on your throat as he claimed you completely. Your mind was spinning, your body surrendering to the heat of him, to the way he dominated every inch of your senses.

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, grounding you as his thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw. The other hand remained on your leg, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin as he shifted his weight, pressing himself closer.

“You’re mine now,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “No running, no hiding. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him closer. And San, ever the tease, chuckled low in his throat, his lips moving to your jaw as he whispered, “Good girl.”

As San’s lips devoured yours, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him, a quiet confession slipped out before you could stop it.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice trembling and almost lost in the heat of the moment.

San stilled for just a second, his head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, processing your words. The smirk that crept onto his lips was slow and deliberate, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, his tone low, curious, and laced with disbelief. “After everything you wrote in that journal?”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t meet his gaze, but you nodded, swallowing hard. “I... I just—”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your neck remained firm as his free hand slid up your thigh again, spreading you out even further beneath him. “So what?” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think that changes anything?”

Your heart pounded as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice taking on a deeper, more commanding edge. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, unable to form words, and his smirk deepened.

“Good,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Then I’ll make sure your first time is something you’ll *never* forget.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, hungry and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kisses grew rougher, more possessive, as though he was claiming you in every sense of the word.

When he finally pulled away, your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, and he wasted no time. His mouth trailed down the curve of your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses that turned into light nips. His tongue soothed each bite, sending shivers down your spine as he moved lower, down the column of your throat.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and dripping with authority. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

His kisses continued, his teeth grazing over the soft curve of your collarbone before he bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through your body, and you arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered, the praise making your stomach flip as he moved lower. His lips and teeth marked a path down your body, every kiss, every bite leaving a faint bloom of heat behind. He was methodical, deliberate, as though he wanted to cover every inch of your skin.

When he reached your hips, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart as he settled himself between them. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm and teasing.

“Right here,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise as his fingers gripped your leg firmly, keeping you pinned in place. “This is where you’re going to feel me the most. Where I’m going to leave my mark.”

You gasped softly, and before you could respond, his teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The sensation was intoxicating, his tongue soothing the bite immediately after, and the combination left you trembling beneath him.

San pulled back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he looked up at you. “You’re already shaking,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re going to fall apart for me, sweetheart. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as he hovered over your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. The way he teased you—his lips brushing so close but never where you wanted them—had your body trembling with anticipation.

San chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he tilted his head up to look at you. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Impatient, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Can’t wait to have me, can you?”

You whimpered softly, your grip on his hair tightening just enough to pull a satisfied laugh from him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone darkening as he settled himself between your legs. “I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s see how loud I can make you.”

And with that, he dove in.

His lips pressed against your clit, hot and unrelenting, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, a languid stroke that left you breathless.

San wasted no time after that, his mouth working against it with a precision that had your head spinning. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled but still thick with satisfaction. “Even better than I imagined.”

You couldn’t respond—not with the way he was overwhelming your senses, reducing you to gasps and whimpers as he found every sensitive spot. Your hands tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the pressure, the vibrations only adding to the fire building inside you.

San pulled back just enough to press a kiss against your inner thigh, his lips swollen and glistening. “Don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to hear everything. Every moan, every gasp—let me hear how much you need me.”

And then he was back, his mouth and tongue relentless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his grip on your thighs tightening as your body started to tremble beneath him. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but surrender completely to the way he consumed you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, your hands still tangled in his hair. San didn’t stop until your body went slack against the mattress, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

But he wasn’t done—not even close.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to survey the sight of you sprawled beneath him, still shaking from the aftermath. His voice was low, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Before you could respond, San moved with the kind of precision that left no room for resistance. His hands gripped your hips firmly, flipping you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion. A startled gasp escaped you, but it was quickly muffled as he pressed your face into the mattress, one hand splayed across the back of your neck, holding you in place.

“Don’t think we’re done yet,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned over you. The heat of his bare chest against your back sent shivers down your spine, and you felt him press his hips into you, letting you feel just how ready he was.

Your heart raced as his free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I’m not holding back… at all.”

His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you whimpered softly, your body arching instinctively beneath him. His voice dropped lower, the words sending a thrill through you as he murmured, “You’re mine now. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you *feel* it.”

The blunt heat of him pressed against your cunt, and before you could even brace yourself, he pushed into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion. The stretch burned, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed it, and you cried out, muffled against the mattress as he filled you completely.

San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with a force that made your entire body jolt. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with lust as he set a relentless pace. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each thrust drawing gasps and moans from you that only seemed to spur him on. He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself deeper, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the rough, unyielding way he moved against you. His hand slid from your hip to your throat, pulling you up slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin to leave yet another mark.

“You’re mine,” he muttered again, his voice ragged as his thrusts grew even harder, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I-I'm yours..! ,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to the sheets, completely lost in him.

“Good girl.. or should I say..” he murmured, his grip tightening as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering, never giving you a moment to catch your breath, “good slut?”.

His words made your cunt tighten around him, a grunt escaping his throat.

San’s pace didn’t let up for a moment, his grip firm on your waist as he powerfully ounded into you, every thrust driving you closer to another earth-shattering release. Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he could feel the way you tightened around him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough and commanding as he reached one hand between your legs, his fingers finding the spot that made you jolt… your swollen clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his relentless thrusts and the way his fingers worked you had you teetering on the edge in seconds. Your cries grew louder, the tension coiling in your stomach until it finally snapped, a powerful wave of pleasure crashing through you as you screamed his name.

“San!” you sobbed, your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled into you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He didn’t pull out right away, instead leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your damp skin. “You took me so well, sweetheart. Screaming my name like that... you’re so fucking perfect.”

You whimpered softly, still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smirked, his voice dropping to a darker, dirtier tone. “Bet you loved having me ruin you like this. Didn’t you, baby? All that talk about wanting to be manhandled—looks like you got exactly what you wanted.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, gripping you firmly as he pulled you upright, your back pressing against his chest. The move made you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his cock still deep inside you.

“That’s what you get for leaving your little journal unattended,” he growled, his smirk sharp and satisfied as he stared into your eyes. “I bet you loved every fucking second of it. Didn’t you?”

Your lips trembled, but you managed a breathless, “Y-yes… y-es I did..”

San’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his grip on your neck softening as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance.

He held you there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his tone gentler now, though no less possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands came up to rest over his, your body leaning into his embrace as you whispered, “Always yours.”

San let out a satisfied hum, holding you close as the heat of the moment began to fade, replaced by a warmth that felt just as overwhelming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against your hair as he held you, his arms never loosening.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[windser]

mornings with caleb, when the early sunlight filters through the wide-open bathroom windows, painting the tiles in shades of soft gold. the room feels warm, cozy, familiar—like home. it’s a rhythm now, these mornings with him, where the world moves slower, and everything seems to revolve around the two of you.

you’re barely awake when the shower starts, warm water hitting your shoulders and easing the ache in your muscles. caleb stands behind you, his hands gentle as they trace along your sides, thumbs brushing against your skin. he dips his head, lips finding the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss there like a quiet good morning.

"you always smell so damn good," he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. you giggle, turning your head to glance back at him.

"must be the shampoo you keep getting in my eyes," you tease.

caleb grins at that, a little lopsided, his green eyes gleaming in the light. "hey, that’s an accident," he defends, mock-offended, even as his hands slide up to tilt your chin toward him. "you’re just a distraction. can’t help it."

just as the words leave his mouth, a dollop of shampoo dribbles down your forehead.

"goddammit," he mutters under his breath, his hands immediately cupping your face as you laugh through the sting. "sorry, sorry, baby," he says hurriedly, thumbs brushing under your eyes to clear away the mess, his touch soft and careful.

"it’s fine," you say, giggling through it, but his furrowed brow doesn’t ease until you reassure him again. "seriously, caleb, i’m fine."

other mornings, though, he’s not so sweet. he backs you up against the shower wall, his hands firm on your waist as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping instinctively around him. the tile is slick under his feet, and he nearly loses his balance, but neither of you care. his lips find yours in a messy, desperate kiss, one that makes the world outside the bathroom vanish.

"careful," you mumble between breaths, half-laughing, half-scolding.

"i’ve got you," he replies, his voice low and certain. "i always do."

afterward, the bathroom feels alive with movement. caleb brushes past you on his way to the closet, his shoulder brushing yours deliberately as he plucks out his uniform. his eyes linger on you, watching as you fix your hair or drop your towel to the floor before stepping into your clothes. there’s something about the way his gaze lingers—not intrusive, but intense, like he’s committing you to memory every time.

"you’re staring again," you tease, turning toward him.

"can you blame me?" he counters, leaning casually against the sink with a razor in hand. he leans in as you pass, pulling you into his side with one arm, his shaving cream smudging faintly on your cheek.

"caleb!" you yelp, swatting at him, but he just laughs, tugging you closer.

"you’re so pretty," he says, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. his violet eyes meet yours in the mirror, and you can see the sincerity in them, the way his love for you is something he doesn’t even try to hide.

it’s not always soft, though. sometimes, it’s playful. like when he leans over the sink, toothbrush in hand, and starts making faces at you.

"your turn, cutie," he says through a mouthful of toothpaste, his eyebrows waggling dramatically.

you try to ignore him, but it’s impossible not to laugh when he crosses his eyes and scrunches his face up like a cartoon. you retaliate with your own ridiculous expression, toothpaste dribbling down your chin and onto his old t-shirt that you’re wearing.

"you’re ridiculous," he says, laughing as he pats your back when you start coughing from the laughter.

"pot, meet kettle," you manage to say, grinning up at him.

by the time you’re dressed and ready to go, caleb is leaning against the kitchen counter, travel cup in hand. "you’re beautiful, you know," he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

"stop," you say, but the way your cheeks warm betrays you.

"never," he replies with a grin. he leans down as you pass, pressing a soft kiss to your temple and the cup into your hand. "love you," he whispers. "you’re going to kick ass today."

and somehow, you believe him. you always do.

[ranpazz]

ARE YOU DEATH OR PARADISE? ft. Dazai Osamu

synopsis ; He thought he could prevent your inevitable death. How foolish he was to believe that he'd succeed where he failed in every world.

cw ; beast!zai, character death, angst/no comfort, gn!reader, not proofread (it's me.), someone needs to take Billie Ellish away from me.

Death.

Humans fear two things. The inevitable, and what they dont know. The first thing is what most humans tend to try and avoid, knowing that it's impossible. Some fear it, some wish for it. To Dazai, it was something that he felt the duality of. He feared it– only when it prayed and caught onto those he cherished most, yet he wished for it to the point it was not sane.

In this world, the very one he fabricated every tiny detail down to the wire, he assured himself that nothing could truly avoid his watchful eye. He even brought you along with him to ensure that fact. You're something precious, possibly even otherworldly, to Dazai, even in the realities that he's a mere spectator of. The memories of you that plague his mind like flies swarming food.

He wanted to believe that, even just for a moment, you were his. That you didn't belong to the versions of him from another world– you were solely his. Dazai protected you, he has the resources in this world to save you from the very fate that found you in every universe– death. You were supposed to be safe. You were not supposed to be lost. This wasn't supposed to happen again. Then again, Dazai knew better.

So why did he hope that you were any different?

Why did he believe that when he witnessed you die on the CCTV footage, killed by a threat greater than himself, you were merely playing a game? Why did he, for once, pray to a God that this was not the horrid reality it was meant to be? Why was life so far away from fair, taking away the only string of sanity that kept him going in this world?

It was simple, really. He was Dazai Osamu. Everything he wants is lost the moment he obtains it.

Which led him here, hovering over your body, clutching you tightly in his grasp as if you'd vanish the moment he let you go. He was trembling, your blood was staining his hands, tainting the bandages he wore a deep shade of scarlet. Dazai had never cried before, but he could feel his tear ducts stinging, his vision blurring.

Chuuya’s shouts were ignored, all Dazai could focus on was how at peace you looked. Your hair was disheveled, yet it framed your face with the upmost delicacy, your lifeless eyes were closed, thick lashes mocking him, causing him to ponder that you might just be toying with him. Unfortunately, the lack of a heartbeat in your ribs, the paleness of your skin, and the way no air entered nor left your body, said otherwise.

The pages of that godforsaken book tunneled his vision, the sentences that spelt out your death tantalizing him. He knows, so stop it. Stop reminding him of what he lost. Dazai knew he was reckless, stupid for bringing you into this life when he should have left you alone. He should have learned from those other versions him that it's best not to become attached. The original version learned from Oda, so how come he just had not learned his lesson from you?

It could have been that he did not want to accept the truth of your demise. You had loved him so tenderly, accepted every one of his flaws, remained patient with him no matter what occurred. You were practically his safe-haven in each universe. Maybe it was your understanding that led him to forgetting the reason why he told himself to stay away. Or possibly it was the sheer love that he refused to acknowledge until the last minute.

.

.

In the next life, he'll try again. You'll stay safe, you'll stay alive. He'll do whatever it takes for you to stay by his side.

Next time, he'll do things differently.

divider by @kodaswrld

[undercvrfan444]

Overstimulated. All day long you’d been working tirelessly against stupid low grade curses. Sure Gojo, Itadori, Megumi and Nobara had been by your side to alleviate the stress of fighting alone, but you were so sensitive to loud noises after being exposed all day.

Once you’d finally gotten back to your dorm it was impossible to stop you from locking yourself away.

A nice hot shower eased some of the tension between your shoulder blades, however even the running water was enough to keep you on edge. The loud tapping noise from droplets crashing into the tile below you sounded like nails on a chalk board.

Your curtains were drawn tight to close off any lingering sunlight as the ball of light settled below the skyline. Dusk turned to night while you lay limply on your bed; tucked into the soft and cool fabric.

A knock at the door startled you a bit due to not expecting anyone to come by. “Y/n?” The muffled voice mumble through the door.

Groggily rising from your sheets your socked feet padded over to the door. Cracking it ever so slightly to shield your eyes from the hall light. “Gojo-Sensai?” Rubbing your eyes softly you yawn. “Is something wrong?”

The tone in your voice betrayed your respectful intentions. A whine trickled through your words and it wasn’t difficult to understand your hesitant reaction.

“No nothing’s wrong. You look like hell though,” Gojo grinned while teasing. You shot him a weak glare and began to close your door when his hand reached out to hold it open.

“Oh come on kid. You wouldn’t really close the door on your sensei, would you?” A fake pout overtook the older man’s face while looking down at you.

“I would and definitely could right now! Is there a reason you’re here this late?” The soft gentle voice you normally spoke with was fleeting quickly. Gojo was taken aback by your tone and the way you bit at him. His hand flew to his heart mockingly.

“Oh come on! You don’t have to be so mean! I was just coming to check on you after today. You seemed tense, unusually so.” The intentions behind Gojo coming to check on you were pure in their entirety.

A small pang of guilt erupted in the back of your head but you pushed it aside for now. A sigh pulled from your lips and you let go of your door to allow the gap to widen.

Before speaking you step further into your room and motion for Gojo to come in. “I’m sorry sir, please forgive me. It’s just…” Your teeth grazed the soft skin of your bottom lip.

Unsure of how to tell Gojo of your current state without sounding silly. “There was a lot going on and I needed some alone time.” Gojo steps into your room and closes the door with a quiet click, enveloping you and him in the dark. The only light illuminating Gojo’s body was a small lamp on your bedside table. He looked softer here. The signature mischievous smile wiped from his face and instead replaced with a concerned expression. The crystal white color of his hair popped in the low light, highlighting how silky smooth it seemed. Every bone in your body screamed for you to reach out and sink your hands into it, but you knew it would be inappropriate.

“No apologies needed. We all worked hard today. I never thought Itadori would shut up about his arms hurting and wanting someone to massage them. Thankfully he passed out as soon as we got back!” A small snicker left Gojo and it warmed your heart to hear it.

He’d always been kind to you. More so than he was to the others so it was hard to ignore the silly feeling in your heart when he was near. How you’d look for him in crowds of people, laugh at his jokes no matter how dumb they were, or even just stand closer to him when he was beside you.

It would be ignorant to say he didn’t do the same! Sure Gojo loved to tease his students, but when he teased you he was relentless. His words seemed to exist just to bring the pretty red tint to your cheeks and make you shy. On the other hand, the man would practically bite someone’s head off if they so much as threw a stupid joke your direction. Being angered that another man tried to make her shy or flustered. It was wrong of him to favor you! After all you are his student and someone who’s quite a bit younger than him. While the age gap is legal he couldn’t help but feel a little silly when he thought about how much older he was. He quickly dismissed that thought though.

You moved to sit on your bed, slinging the blanket over your legs while listening to the man speak. He eyed you the entire time you moved. Thank God you were turned around or else you would have caught him shamelessly raking his eyes across your exposed legs.

“Are you the only one still up?” You ask innocently while he looked down at you.

“Yeah, the others were so tired I knew they’d all go their separate ways when we arrived.” His hands slid into his slacks nonchalantly while he pushed his blindfold off of his face. A low groan erupted from within his chest at the feeling of his skin being exposed to cool air finally. Your heart stuttered and skipped a beat when you heard the noises he made.

“Did I wake you up?”

The softness in Gojo’s voice rang loud in your ears. There was a sly undertone you couldn’t ignore but chose not to point out.

“Well…no, not exactly. I wasn’t quite asleep but I was definitely close to passing out.” A smile graced your lips to offer a sign of contempt and show you were upset for his visit.

A tense silence lulled over the two of you. Gojo blankly stared at you, not conveying anything. It was difficult to hold his gaze while the sky blue color of his irises sent chills down your spine. His feet barely made any noise before you felt his hand reach under your chin, his thumb stroking absently at the side of your jaw.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” He said gently.

“Y-you didn’t, I promise.” Skin tingled and felt hot in the places he touched. Without thinking you leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, small puffs of breaths exiting you.

“Will you stay with me?” You ask suddenly yet as tender as could be. Your voice washed over him like a wave of fresh air and he couldn’t tell you no. He’d be an idiot to ever think about neglecting you when you asked him so sweetly.

He wasted no time in responding. “You know I will.” Was all that came from him before you were moving closer to the wall and he was slipping out of his shoes and sliding his shirt off. You knew he wouldn’t be comfortable in his slacks but it seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind.

His body caused the bed to dip in accommodation of his weight. Your small bed making the two of you impossibly close, even so he still reached for your arm and gently pulled you up to his chest. Your head rested on one of his pecs while your body nestled tightly into his side. All it took was a few strokes of his fingers in your hair for you to be worn down and jelly on him. While your heart thundered in your chest at the proximity of the two of you, a sickeningly sweet smile spread over your lips. A fit of relaxed giggles left your body and you could see Gojo’s confused but intrigued smile.

“What are you laughing about silly girl?” He whispered softly. He placed a small kiss to your hairline as he brushed loose strands from your face.

“Nothing! It’s just strange for me to see you like..this.”

“Like what?”

“So relaxed.”

Gojo stops for a moments before planting one small chaste kiss to your lips.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked curiously, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

A flush crept up to your ears when you thought about exposing yourself for how much you paid attention to him. “Uhm, I just mean…anytime I see you it’s like there’s a weight placed on your back that you can’t seem to shake off. I know you are the adult in the situation, but I wish there was something more I could do to help you. As silly as this sounds; you bring me a peace no one else can and I wish to do the same for you admittedly.” Between the new position with your chin pressed into his sternum and all the words that seemed to spill out of your mouth you found your head being tucked into his chest in an attempt to escape the embarrassment.

A loud chuckle emitted from below you and you felt his arms wrap around the small of your waist to hold you steady. “You really seem to have me figured out, don’t you?”

He settled against your pillows once more. “I can assure you sweet girl that you do the same for me.” His fingers kneed into the supple skin on your lower back. “I may look like i’m stressed all the time but the moment i’m close to you that weight seems to vanish. Forgive me if I lay it on a little thick with the teasing, I can’t help how much I enjoy seeing you get red when I’m close. It’s refreshing.”

You swallow thickly as his hands travel all over your skin. Your lower back, hips, the curve of your waist, nothing seemed to be out of reach for him.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you lay on his chest and listen to the steady thrum of his heart. “I like when you tease me.” you admit quietly

The two of you talked quietly for what felt like forever before you eventually drifted off to sleep. The sound of his velvety voice pulling you to a deep sleep as you knew he’d hold you for as long as you let him. The last thing you remember is him tracing circles on your back while you sheepishly talked about the silly things you’d do to be close to him.

In real Gojo fashion, he teased you about how timid you were. What he hoped you hadn’t felt was his heart pick up and the crimson color of his cheeks.

[cluelessatthispoint]

What If someone tries to kidnap the baby from dragons hoard how would they react and how would they get the baby back?

Ohh, this is a great question. I definitely think that the kidnapper wouldn't get very far in terms of actually kidnapping the reader.

It would go something like this:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Price: If anyone stupid enough were to try and kidnap the newest member of the hoard. They would simply fade into obscurity and out of the minds of those who knew them. Price would find a way to ensure that the newest addition of the hoard would be protected at all costs. As much as the reader right now wants to be alone and away from the strange hybrids, you'll find that being alone is nigh near impossible.

Price would for the most part spend time in their cave sleeping or making sure everything is in neat and orderly precision. If you want to play hell bring out some pretty golden trinkets for you, but if you even think about setting foot out of the nest without his permission, he'd wrap you up in his tail and keep you next to him by his side or on his lap as he'd try his best to distract you with stories of his youth. If you (the reader) were spending time in the cave with Price when a potential kidnapper arrives you can bet he'll cover the your eyes and ears as he incinerates the intruder to a burnt crisp. If the smell of burnt flesh and clothes bothers your sensitive nose, Price will tuck your face into his neck and carry you out of the cave for a nice walk while he puts Gaz or Soap on clean up duty. Lord knows werewolf Soap could use the extra protein if any meat is left.

Gaz: If you were with Gaz when an intruder were to stumble upon the cave and try to kidnap you. Gaz would do what birds do best in order to process their young. Similar to geese he would let out a feral warning hiss with his wings splayed out menacingly. If that doesn't scare the idiot off, the Gaz would quickly tuck you into the layers of the nest and quickly fly the kidnapper out of the cave with speed and agility that goshhawks can't ever give to surpass.

When you're trying to free yourself from the tangled mess of fabrics from the nest, Gaz would be enjoying the skies; ignorant of the bloodcurdling screams that rip from the kidnappers throat as he hurdles down towards the earth. Afterwards, Gaz would come back to the nest as quick as can be. A smile on his face as he got a good flight in for the day.

Soap: The werewolf would simply attack first and ask questions later. The first smell of something or someone setting foot in their home would set Soap on edge. The very sight of a stranger would have him hurdling full speed towards the intruder. You wouldn't even have time to process what the hell just happened as Soap goes for the jugular and drags the carcass away. Out of all the people in the hoard, Soap would be the most protective of you. Whether that's good or not remains to be seen. But the second he walk back to the nest seeing you all tucked in and shivering from the sight of blood on his lips all the way down his front. You can bet he'd feel ashamed of himself. His tail would stop wagging the instant he saw you. The scent of fear wafting off of you would make his ears bend back and a whine escape his lips. When Price, Ghost, or Gaz would find out what happened, Soap will be sleeping in the doghouse literally and figuratively.

Ghost: Ghost would react very strongly to anyone who would disturb what he calls "family bonding" with you. In reality it would just be him and you wandering around the cave the pack/hoard lives in. He Ghost wouldn't be the type to hold your hand as you explore. I steady he would simply watch you from a few paces back. Or if you thought you were being sneaky and trying to run away he would watch from within the shadows. The moment anyone would come in and try to take you away would be the moment Ghost would whisky them back and away from you before they could utter a sound to alert you to their presence. When all is said and done, he would gently corals you back to the nest sometime later. And while night rolls around, when you ask where Price and Soap are Gaz would coo softly to you and soothe your fears while Ghost tells you not to worry about it. The shared look between them says enough, now they can rest easy knowing that as Price and Soap will be satiated with their midnight snack.

~~~~~~~~

Tada!~

[ruewritesoccasionally]

The Reunion Pt.4 | Aaron Pierre

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Reader

Warnings: angst, emotional turmoil, unresolved feelings, themes of heartbreak, romantic confessions

Chapter Summary: YN faces the fallout of her breakup with Trey, struggling with lingering feelings for Aaron. When Aaron finally confesses his love, the weight of their emotions crashes together, leading to a pivotal moment of honesty and vulnerability. As their long-simmering feelings come to the surface, both of them take the first step toward something new—something neither could deny any longer.

Word Count: 1.5K

a/n: it's finally here !!! i was dragging this out for the longest time because my brain simply refused to work but i'm so excited that everything is written up now

The faint hum of the television filled the room, yet she wasn’t listening. Her fingers idly traced the rim of her wine glass, and Trey’s voice faded into the background. He was beside her, close enough that his knee brushed against hers, but she felt detached, as if floating somewhere far away.

Aaron’s laugh—deep, infectious, and lingering—played on a loop in her mind, a cruel reminder of the night she’d shared with him just days ago. She tried to banish the memory, to focus on the man sitting across from her, but it was useless. Every stolen glance at Aaron’s lips, every fleeting touch during the movie night, had rooted itself in her thoughts, refusing to let go.

“Hey.” Trey’s voice broke through the fog, but she didn’t react. She was still lost in a world that didn’t include him.

“Hey.” Louder now, firmer.

Her head snapped up. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Trey set his drink on the table, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “You don’t have to say it,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

Her brow furrowed. “Say what?”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time in weeks, she realised he’d seen through her façade. “That your heart’s not here. You’ve been miles away all night. Hell, maybe even longer than that.”

“Trey, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted gently, holding up a hand. “We don’t need to drag this out. I think we both know it’s time.”

She stared at him, stunned by how easily he’d unravelled the truth she hadn’t been brave enough to face. Her lips parted to argue, to deny it, but no words came. Because he was right.

Trey leaned back on the sofa, exhaling deeply. “I’ve felt it for a while, you know. The way you smile when your phone buzzes, the way your eyes light up talking about… him.” He didn’t need to say Aaron’s name. It hung between them like an unspoken truth.

“I never meant to hurt you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“I know. And that’s why I’m not mad.” He managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sometimes you just know when it’s not meant to be.”

Silence fell between them, heavy yet not entirely uncomfortable. She nodded, a small weight lifting off her chest as Trey stood, retrieving his jacket.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he added after a long pause. “And I hope it makes you happy.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said softly, planting a small parting kiss on her forehead before stepping out the door.

For the first time in months, she felt... free. But that freedom came with a weight all its own. She sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the space he’d just occupied. Her mind should’ve been racing, should’ve been replaying their conversation on a loop, but instead, there was only one thought anchoring her.

Aaron.

The scent of her vanilla and amber lingered on his hoodie, faint but impossible to ignore. Aaron paced the length of his flat, his trainers scuffing the worn wooden floor. His heart was in his throat, thoughts racing so fast he couldn’t pin them down.

Images flashed in his mind—her laughter lighting up the reunion, the way her hand lingered on his arm as they’d hugged goodbye, the soft sigh she’d made during their movie night when she’d leaned just close enough for him to feel the warmth of her body.

He ran a hand through his curls, gripping the back of his neck as Marcus’s words echoed in his head: "If you wait too long, you’re going to lose her."

But it wasn’t just Marcus. It was her. It was the way she looked at him, how her lips curved into a smile just for him, how her eyes softened when he made her laugh. He thought of the first time he’d met her, the way her voice had wrapped around him like a melody. He thought of the countless moments she’d unknowingly stolen his breath.

He swallowed hard, the memory of last night fresh in his mind. So close yet so far. He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t carry the weight of words unsaid. It was now or never.

Grabbing his jacket, he left his flat, the weight of his choice propelling him forward.

The knock on her door startled her, cutting through the stillness. She frowned, rising to her feet and making her way to the door. When she opened it, Aaron was standing there, his dark curls damp from the rain, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“Aaron?” she asked, surprised.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, his expression unreadable. “Can I come in?”

She nodded, stepping aside to let him in. He paused just inside the doorway, his gaze flicking to her face, then to the room behind her.

“Everything okay?” she asked, closing the door.

He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

Her brows furrowed as she crossed her arms, concern etched across her face. “What’s going on?”

Aaron turned to face her, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he were fighting an internal battle. Finally, he ran a hand through his curls, letting out a frustrated groan.

“I’ve been rehearsing this for days,” he admitted, his voice low. “And now that I’m here, I don’t even know where to start.”

Her heart began to race, a strange mixture of apprehension and anticipation bubbling in her chest.

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’ve been your friend for years, YN. Your best friend. And I’ve tried—God, I’ve tried—to bury this, to pretend it didn’t matter. But it does. You do.”

Her lips parted, but he held up a hand, silencing her.

“Let me finish,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I didn’t have a chance, that you were happy with someone else, that you didn’t feel the same. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t stand here and say nothing, not when...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“And I know it’s super disrespectful for me to come here and say this to you when Trey is in the picture, but I’ve waited too long for a woman like you, to say all this to, and I just can’t wait any longer. I-”

“We broke up,” she interrupted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron froze, his eyes widening as the words registered. “What?”

“We broke up,” she repeated, her gaze steady, though her heart was pounding.

He stared at her, his breath catching. “Say that again.”

“We broke up,” she said again, her voice firmer this time. “It’s over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, a slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face.

“You’re serious?” he asked, his voice low, almost awed.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Relief washed over his face, his shoulders sagging as if a weight had been lifted. “You… you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

He stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I tried to bury it, to be your friend and nothing more, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

Her breath hitched, tears pooling in her eyes as his words wrapped around her heart.

“I love the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, the way you crinkle your nose when you’re trying not to laugh too hard. I love how you make me feel like I’m enough, just by being around you. And if I didn’t say this now, I would've regretted it for the rest of my life.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that escaped down her face. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

Before she could say anything else, Aaron closed the distance between them in two strides, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he were afraid to push too far. But when she leaned into him, her hands gripping his jacket, the kiss deepened, growing more fervent.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Aaron murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“So have I,” she whispered back, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.

Her hand covered his, her fingers trembling. “Aaron…”

He tilted his forehead to rest against hers, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Say the word, and I’ll take you out on the best first date of your life. Say the word, and I’ll prove to you every day that you made the right choice.”

She couldn’t hold back any longer. Closing the gap between them, her lips met his in a kiss so soft yet so charged that it left them both breathless.

When they pulled apart, he smiled, his thumb still brushing her cheek. “So, is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” she murmured, her smile matching his.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @kxllanxtdoor @random-human02

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[tojisprettylittlething]

Quiet House

Pairing: Husband!Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW (18+), smut, rough sex (mean backshots), dirty talk, pet names (baby, mama, pretty), praise and degradation, unprotected sex. First smut...kill me now

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The house was too quiet without Megumi.

His toys weren’t scattered on the floor, his voice wasn’t humming little tunes as he usually did when playing with his puzzles, and the constant pitter-patter of his feet was replaced by silence. It wasn’t an eerie quiet, though. It was a suffocating kind, as though even the walls were watching you and Toji tonight.

Megumi had been whisked away to his friend’s house for the evening—some playdate you barely remembered agreeing to because Toji’s hand was stroking up your thigh during the conversation.

But...you had spent the past hour cleaning a kitchen that didn’t need cleaning—wiping down counters that were already spotless, reorganizing the spice rack for the third time in two days, pretending the dishes in the sink weren’t already sparkling. Your fingers moved on autopilot, but your mind was a battlefield, constantly pulled back to him.

But how could you not think about him?

Toji was stretched out on the couch like he owned the world—or at least the room. One arm rested over the back of the cushions, his fingers drumming idly, while the other hand dragged aimless circles on the ridges of his toned stomach, the pads of his fingers brushing just above the waistband of those sweatpants. Those damn sweatpants.

He wasn’t doing anything, not really. The TV mumbled in the background, replaying meaningless sports highlights, but even the faint noise seemed irrelevant. Toji didn’t need to speak or move to command the space around him. It was the way he existed—effortless and deliberate all at once, as if every molecule of air bent to his will.

And he knew it. That was the worst part. He always knew.

Your jaw tightened as you scrubbed at an invisible spot on the counter. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of looking again. You’d been careful all evening, refusing to let your gaze linger on the faint scar slashing across his lip, the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, the sharp green eyes that had already caught you once.

You heard him shift, the quiet rustle of fabric sending a jolt of awareness down your spine, but you didn’t dare glance over.

“Gonna keep pretending you’re busy over there, mama?”

His voice startled you, deep and rough-edged with amusement. It cut through the silence with ease, the lazy cadence pulling your attention against your will. He still hadn’t looked away from the screen, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth told you everything you needed to know. He’d caught you—again.

You stiffened, focusing intently on straightening the salt and pepper shakers. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the quiet for once. Megumi’s not here to drive me crazy.”

He let out a low hum, finally turning his head to look at you. The weight of his gaze was like a physical thing, heavy and impossible to ignore, pinning you in place. Those sharp green eyes didn’t just see you—they sized you up, peeling away layers like a predator studying its prey.

“Nah,” he said, leaning further back, his smirk widening into something wolfish. “You’re not thinkin’ about that brat. You’re thinkin’ about me.”

Your breath hitched before you could stop it. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. He rarely was. But you weren’t about to let him win so easily.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Toji.”

His laugh was low and throaty, a dark sound that sent heat spiraling to your core. “Baby,” he drawled, sitting up slowly. He stretched as he moved, broad shoulders flexing, the kind of movement that was maddening in its casual confidence. “We’ve been married long enough. I know when you’re lyin’. And right now?”

He pushed himself off the couch, his steps deliberate as he crossed the room. The way he moved was almost predatory, his eyes locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered. His gaze swept over your frame, lingering just long enough to make your cheeks burn.

“You’re doin’ a real shitty job of it.”

You held your ground when he stopped in front of you, close enough that the heat of his body seemed to wrap around you. The kitchen felt impossibly smaller with him towering over you like that, all easy confidence and simmering danger.

“Toji—”

“Shh.” His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a gesture that felt far more intimate than it should have. For a moment—just a moment—his eyes softened, the intensity in his gaze giving way to something unreadable. But then the corner of his mouth twitched, and the fleeting tenderness was gone, replaced by the lazy hunger that made your pulse race.

“You’re too pretty to talk back, mama,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your chest.

Your knees nearly buckled when his other hand slid down your spine, fingers trailing deliberately before settling at the curve of your hip. He paused there, his grip firm, almost possessive, before sliding lower, his palm curving over the swell of your ass. The pressure made you inhale sharply, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as if it might anchor you.

“You miss me takin’ care of you, huh?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. “Been too long since I reminded you who you belong to.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you shot back, but your voice wavered just enough to betray you.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, like the growl of a wolf circling its prey. His grip on you tightened as he leaned in, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear.

“Keep talkin’, baby,” he murmured, his tone as smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. “I’ll shut you up real quick.”

You didn’t know how you ended up bent over the seat of the couch, his strong hand splayed across your lower back to keep you still. One second, you were standing there, flushed and flustered, and the next, he was tugging your panties down your thighs, humming in approval at how wet you already were.

“You see this, mama?” His voice was gravelly as he slid two fingers through your folds, spreading your arousal before smacking your ass, hard. You yelped, more from the shock than the sting. “You’re already drippin’. Don’t even try to act like you didn’t want this.”

“Toji,” you gasped, fingers clutching at the couch as he kneaded your flesh, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your spine.

“What is it, pretty? You need somethin’? Say it.” His teasing tone made you bite your lip, heat pooling between your legs.

“I need—” You sucked in a breath as he lined himself up behind you, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

“Go on, mama. Say it.”

“I need you,” you finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s what I thought.” His hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back just enough for his lips to graze your ear. “Good girl.”

He thrust into you in one slow, deliberate stroke, your body stretching to accommodate him as a choked moan spilled from your lips. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust, his pace brutal from the start, hips slamming into yours with enough force to make the couch creak beneath you.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin on skin, his low, ragged breaths mingling with your broken cries.

“Fuck, you take me so good, mama,” he growled, his hand sliding from your hair to your throat, holding you in place as he pounded into you. “Tight little pussy, made just for me.”

Your only response was a whimper, your body arching under him as his grip tightened, leaving you dizzy in the best way.

“You like this, huh?” His voice was taunting, rough and deep as he leaned down to nip at your shoulder. “Gettin’ fucked like the pretty little doll you are. Bet you wish Megumi stayed out more often so I could ruin you like this every night.”

“Toji, oh my God—”

“Yeah, mama,” he rasped, angling his hips to hit that spot that made your knees buckle. “Say my name. Louder. Let me hear you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer as he dragged you closer to the edge with every hard, deliberate thrust.

“Good girl,” he muttered, voice thick with praise. “My good fuckin’ girl.”

Your climax hit you like a freight train, your body clenching around him as you cried out, his name echoing in the quiet house. Toji didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, chasing his own release as he slammed into you one last time, spilling into you with a low groan.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your ragged breaths, your body still trembling as you lay draped across the couch. Toji’s heavy weight pressed against you, grounding you, his broad chest flush against your back. The warmth of his skin seeped into yours as his lips brushed lightly along the back of your neck.

“You okay, mama?” he murmured, his voice softer now, edged with an unfamiliar tenderness.

You nodded, too spent to form words, and he let out a low chuckle. His hand smoothed over your side, tracing lazy patterns on your hip as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he muttered, his lips lingering just a little longer. “Always keepin’ me on my toes.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, though it was muffled as you buried your face into the couch cushion. “You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, your voice tinged with exhaustion and warmth.

“Yeah?” He shifted slightly behind you, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at you, his smirk as infuriating as it was endearing. “But you love me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the soft smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. Turning your head, you met his gaze, the sharp green of his eyes holding that familiar mixture of mischief and affection that always seemed to disarm you.

“And you’re lucky I do,” you shot back, but your voice was quieter now, your hand coming up to rest on his forearm.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against your forehead, and his hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you closer. You melted into the comfort of his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing soothing the racing of your own.

“Yeah,” he muttered, the smirk softening into something genuine as he settled back down, his arm curling possessively around your waist. “Damn lucky.”

And as you lay there, tangled together on the couch, the chaos of the world outside seemed to fade away. For once, there was nothing else—just the sound of your breaths evening out, the steady weight of his presence, and the quiet certainty that, somehow, he was exactly where you belonged.

[quilly72]

Vivian was busy mixing chemicals for her upcoming catalyst lecture. She wanted to show her class the importance of a catalyst and growth reactions. As her chemistry class started filing in she mixed the final ingredients together and set it aside. The final students meandered their way in and she started her lesson.

Vivian started her lecture talking about the basic chemistry and biology that made up reactions and yada yada yada. Eventually she got to the fun part she grabbed the two red vials and decided to give her class something to focus on. She had the students start passing the containers around observing the black particles in the warm red liquid flow and ebb, watch them grow and shrink and remain in harmony. Professor Vivian talked about this solution was a perfect focal point to have the particles within grow and shrink and just the right amount to stay at equilibrium and how any small disturbance could set them off. As she went to go collect the vials back she noticed one of them was gone. She immediately locked the doors and demanded to see all the students pockets and backpacks. She started rifling through each students stuff individually looking for the missing vial. on her way to the back of the classroom she tripped and fell. She instinctively used her hands to brace herself and fell on top of the vial. The vial cracked open spilling directly on to the floor and her bust. The thick red liquid quickly dissolved into her skin as she quickly tried to scrape and peel it off. "Uh oh"she muttered"that's not good." Vivian immediately ran to the emergency shower and dumped gallons of water on to herself. She started scrubbing furiously and looked for any cuts or scratches where the liquid could have gotten into her body. She checked and checked but eventually decided that she was probably fine and the solution had evaporated.

As she went back to find the missing vial she felt a heat start to build within her chest. Attributing it to being flustered she ignored it and continued her search_

-hic-. "Excuse me" with that hiccup Vivian grew the tiniest amount and her boobs swelled up just a tad. As she continues her search she feels the heat build back up stronger this time. She continues to -hic- "sorry" this time her clothes tighten. Her shirt stretches around her chest and hips. Her pencil neck skirt grows taut and her heels tighten. -hic- Vivian grew again this time with her heels snapping off her feet. She loses her balance and her legs collapse. As she lays on the floor staring at her broken heels and her swollen feet,"that's impossible it can't be." Refusing to accept the unbelievable she ignores her growth and begins to grow mad with her students,"whoever has the missing vial, know that no one leaves this room till I -hic- find it." Her top collarbone button pops off and her skirt slightly rips I the back. Vivian in horror stares off into space. She recaptures herself and stands back up. She seems to be just as tall without the heels as she was with them and her shirt is visibly tighter. She feels a hiccup build up again. Her hands shoot up to clench her throat shut and she holds her breath. Her face turns bright red until something else builds up inside of her -uunnhhh- she moans letting out a small orgasm.

She spurts up several inches and her boobs spill out of her shirt all at once her bra nowhere in sight. "Class dismissed!" About half the class darts out of the room while the other sticks behind. Vivian starts to panic, " I can't do this I don't know how to-hic- stop" she spurts up again as her skirt rips in half down the seam, her butt bursting through. "I think they're -hic- speeding up" the rest of the buttons on her shirt fall off as she grows taller. -HIC- they were growing more powerful. Her head shot up several inches, her shirt fell off her back and -hic- her skirt now fell to prices on the floor.

Vivian's anxiety was skyrocketing especially-hic- since she could now touch the ceiling "I doon't want to groOOow". She -HIC- looks to her students for help but they'll stand there mouth agape, videotaping what they see.

-hic- her head bumps the ceiling. She reflexively bends down and rubs it to soothe the pain. Vivian tired of growing tried to hold in her growth again. She held her breath as her face turned red. Her head flexed against the ceiling as she pushed her body down and into the ground. Her body heats up as she grow sweaty. "Mmm oOooO unh" she orgasms again slightly bigger. Her body reacts by smashing her entire back into the ceiling all at once, her biggest spurt yet. She gets down on her knees and tries to think of a solution. Mere seconds into thought she -HICC- her head meets the ceiling again as she recoilsin pain. She leans back on her haunches spreading her booty out against the floor but buying herself a couple extra -HICC- nevermind. Her head and neck both grow into the ceiling and she had to bend slightly to fit. Her shoulders flex against the ceiling and she pushed her arms down into the ground for support. -HIICC- with no where else to go she dives forward smooshing several students in boobs and causing the rest to either flee while they still can or struggle against her increasing weight. "I'm sorry here let me move" she tries to shift her weight off of them as -hic- she smashes back down into them.

Her feet grow into the wall planting themselves firmly against a solid surface as her head connects with the opposing wall. Her boobs squish several students, pinning them against walls, chairs, and the floor as her hair drapes down smothering them. "I'm sorry I ..I..can't..stop myself.". She tries using her weight to push through the ceiling but it won't budge. Meanwhile she can feel her body tense up for another growth spurt, as several students work to free themselves.

Vivian tries one last time to hold it back. Her feet push against the wall. As she bares her teeth in agony. Her head pushes the ceiling with her back trying to bend the roof to her will and force herself outside. The building stays strong and doesn't budge. The heat inside Vivian's bosom grows and swells and several students start panicking as they realize they are seconds away from suffocating or being crushed. Their professor above them now 30 ft tall and grunting with pain and pleasure. Vivian screams for help," please someone help us...I...can't...keep..holding...it back... I'm going to.... going to.... GrOooOoow." She orgasms harder than she ever has in her life. Her boobs immediately fill up any room that there was left, crushing anyone underneath. Her head forcefully bends down into her own cleavage as her butt presses up against her legs, feet,and the room. "I don't have anymore room to grow" she begins panicking as -HICC- she blacks out from the pressure of her body against the room, but not before her legs and head finally break through the walls waiting to grow even bigger...

[franz-writes]

Be a Good Boy

CW: Incest, Femdom, MILF, sex

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Dating apps are a joke. Trying to connect through a few filtered profile pictures and half-hearted text exchanges feels so humiliating, so desperate. But as humans, we try anyway. This conversation, at least, was going well.

I was new to all this—real sex, intimacy—but sexting? That was my thing. My fingers moved faster than my thoughts as I pressed the buttons on my phone, my left hand lingering at my waistband, hovering. The message I typed felt perfect, sinful in its simplicity: “Why don’t you just come over and sit on my lap? Nobody’s home...”

I was about to press send, my heart pounding as the screen pulsed with an ellipsis, indicating her reply was on its way. Anxiety tightened my chest, and I copied the message to my clipboard, clearing the screen to prepare for more. But just then, another notification popped up—a message from my aunt.

I flipped over to her chat, intending a quick response. But in my haste, I pasted the message and hit send.

Time slowed. My eyes widened as the words I had crafted for someone else now stared back at me, searing into my retinas like fire:

“Why don’t you just come over and sit on my lap? Nobody’s home...”

A cold sweat broke over me. My heart hammered in panic as the dreaded blue ticks appeared beneath the text, signalling it had been read. Her status shifted to "typing..."

Every possible reaction played out in my mind. Disgust. Outrage. A block. This would haunt me forever. But instead, the response that came made my pulse quicken and the breath catch in my throat:

“Is now ok?”

My body froze as conflicting emotions roared through me, a cacophony of disbelief, shock, and something far more dangerous. She had reciprocated.

My aunt. Carmen.

I’d spent years pretending not to notice her during family gatherings. Her wide hips, thick thighs, and sharp, commanding presence were impossible to ignore. She exuded an air of effortless dominance, a magnetism that made me straighten my back when she entered the room, yet stirred something unruly in me.

I’d stolen glances—at the way her dress clung to her curves in the draught as she stepped out for a cigarette, at the sway of her hips when she thought no one was watching. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to make this mistake.

I typed slowly, my hand trembling over the screen:

“I’m alone.”

The words hung there for what felt like an eternity before I pressed send. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to stop, to backtrack, but the message went through. My skin prickled as the read receipt appeared.

Minutes bled into hours as I sat there, heart pounding, barely noticing the gradual shift from evening to night. Then, I heard it—the low rumble of an engine pulling up outside.

The headlights carved long shadows across the living room walls. I swallowed hard as the sound of a car door shutting echoed in the crisp night air. The front door creaked open, and then came the unmistakable click of high heels against the wooden floor.

My body tensed.

I sat up, eyes fixed on the doorway as a silhouette emerged. The air shifted as she stepped into the light.

Carmen.

Her long black coat clung to her body, highlighting every curve as if it had been tailored for temptation itself. Her jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that felt regal and untouchable. Her green eyes locked onto mine, glinting with something I couldn’t quite name.

She sauntered toward me with a confidence that sent a shiver up my spine, every step measured, deliberate.

I tried to breathe, but the sound caught in my throat as she bent down. Her lips hovered dangerously close, her breath hot against my skin.

“So,” she murmured, a sultry tease in her voice, “sit on your lap, huh?”

The words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in silk. My mouth opened, but the words came out in a broken, shaky rush:

“If... If you want to, Aunt Carmen.”

Disbelief and a thrilling mixture of anxiety and anticipation fought a war within me as her smirk acknowledges my submission. She straddled my lap, her weight pinning me to the sofa, her body positioning itself with deliberate precision.

“Wow, you’re hard for your aunt already?” Her smirk deepened as she wiggled her hips against my throbbing bulge. “You do know how inappropriate this is?” Her voice crackled with sultry intensity, the sensation surreal as she rubbed against me.

“I’m sorry, please don’t tell my mum.” My hands trembled, not daring to touch her without permission.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that; this will be our secret.” She caressed my cheek, her other hand deftly unbuttoning her coat. In one fluid motion, she shed it, revealing her figure. Awe-stricken, I stared at her commanding silhouette—black lace garter belt, black panties, her large breasts practically radiating heat toward my cheeks.

I couldn’t help but rub against her slickening pussy lips through her panties. “Is this what you wanted, you pervert?” Her voice pierced through my haze as her arms locked me in place. “You’re lucky Aunt Carmen has been lonely lately.”

She dropped her weight fully onto me, her ample ass resting on my thighs. The illicit thrill sparked feral desires within me. “Can I touch you?” I asked instinctively, desperate to feel her soft, porcelain skin.

With a chuckle, she guided my hand to her thigh, slowly leading it up the curve of her hip and waist. My heart pounded with each inch of soft, warm skin. As she approached her breast, her face betrayed her own anticipation as I felt the heat of her arousal on my hardness, a dripping warmth causing my joggers to stick to me. Her grip commanded me to cup her breast, it spilled between my fingers as I lifted it, her heat causing my hand to sweat as she asked with a softened voice, “Do you like that?” I could see her bit her lip as her back arched slightly, “Do you like your aunt’s soft breasts?”

She saw me wince, fighting the agonizing pleasure threatening to end this sweet encounter too soon. “Oh, you poor boy, you just can’t wait to be inside your aunt, can you?” Her hand traced through my hair, her lips grazing mine. I could smell the expensive champagne and cigarettes on her breath, mingled with her natural floral scent—intoxicating.

Nodding, I stared into her piercing green eyes. “Let Aunt Carmen show you what a real woman feels like,” she whispered, her cheek radiating heat against mine. Distracted, I didn’t notice her pulling her panties aside until shock gripped me—the soft petals of her pussy rubbed against me, a tuft of black hair peeking out.

“Does it look nice?” she teased, pulling down my waistband with urgent need.

She gasped softly as my cock sprang free, meeting the wet, slippery flesh of her heat with a gentle slap. She moaned—a soft, muffled sound. Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, look at that. Well done. Looks like I’m going to enjoy myself after all.” Adrenaline coursed through me, torn between fear of getting caught and the urgent need for her to continue.

Her hand traced my body and I felt her warm fingers lock around my shaft, the sensation sent my head back in a torrent of pleasure. She sat up slightly and positioned herself, spreading her slickened pussy lips with my sensitive tip. A sudden, searing tightness enveloped me, a gasp escaping as our eyes locked. Her lips parted slightly as I entered her, the slick sound accompanying the velvety warmth of her insides. She guided her body, drawing me in with maddening tightness, our heat mingling inside her.

We crossed this unholy threshold, and I teetered on the brink of ecstasy. Our bodies connected with another wet slap as she arched her back. “You’ve grown up so much,” she confessed, her hands gripping my shoulders. Her pussy rhythmically clenched my cock, tearing at my sanity. “I’m going to start moving now. Be a good boy and try to last as long as you can.” Her stern request made me want to obey, but my body begged me for release. I gritted my teeth and furrowed my brow, desperate to satisfy her.

She began rocking her hips forward and back, a hypnotizing motion that had me groaning and tensing. Her pubic hair brushed my belly, and I watched her glistening folds stretch and contort with each thrust. The bud of her clit peeked atop her labia, begging to be touched. Seeing my eyes fixated on it, she commanded, “Make your aunt feel good. Here…”

She took my hand and placed my thumb in her mouth, licking it thoroughly. Her tongue was hot with desire. “...and rub your Auntie’s clit.” Her sultry voice was magic as she guided my hand to her belly, my thumb gently flicking her quivering bud while my cock stretched her obscenely.

“Do it like you mean it, honey,” she instructed, shutting her eyes tightly. Her pace increased, her milky thighs tensing as she continued the grind. I rubbed her clit, flicking it between her soft, velvety lips. My thumb slicked with her juices, and the intoxicating smell of her arousal spurred me on.

Her heavy breathing and stifled moans drove me to the edge. I could feel my cock throb inside her, stirring her insides deeper than I thought possible. I couldn’t hold back the waves of illicit pleasure. Begging, I whispered, “Aunt Carmen, please…”

“Hold it!” she moaned through gritted teeth, but it was too late. My body passed the precipice. My cock convulsed inside her, my mind going blank as my vision blurred. I groaned, trying to hold back, but my spent length began pumping cum deep into my own aunt's womb. Streams of warmth filled her, the sounds of our union becoming wetter and sloppier as her pussy gripped me tight like a velvet vice, locking me inside her.

“You came inside your own aunt already?” she sighed, her movements stopping. “That’s disappointing. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” She began getting up, the slick drag of my hot cock slipping out of her pussy. Cold air replaced the heat of her insides as my cock rested on my thigh, her pussy dripping my seed onto me making a mess as it dripped onto the flor.

“You probably got me pregnant. Dirty boy.” Her words were like expensive wine, intoxicating and disinhibiting. I watched her get on her knees in front of me as her hair brushed my knees.

“I’m sorry Aunt Carmen, you’re just so pretty…” I tried to explain myself through my heavy breaths but she interrupted me, “Sush now, we need to get you ready again, I’m not done.” Her words were as imposing as the delicious smell of her sweat.

She parted my knees and grabbed my spent, aching cock. The sensation was electric and overstimulating. She toyed with me as that familiar smirk emerged, taking pleasure in my torment. I scowled and tensed with agonizing pleasure as she let out a sultry groan and pushed her black hair aside.

“No, Aunt Carmen, please, just give me a minute,” I tried to protest, but her eyes glared at me as her head hovered closer. The shine of her hair and the warmth of her lips touching my tip was almost unbearable. Her lips parted, and her hot, wet mouth began to envelop me.

She sucked in her cheeks, the soft walls of her mouth sliding down my shaft. Her muffled groans resonated like music. I squirmed and winced as she held me down, her hand gripping the base tightly while her tongue massaged me. Her mouth sucked life back into me, and I felt myself swell within the confines of her lips.

She was direct and professional, massaging my balls, making sure I wasn’t too close. My cock slid out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and a gasp. “Good boy. I knew you had it in you.” Her lips were slick and glistening, her green eyes betraying signs of black, running makeup. My body tensed every time she looked at me, awaiting her next command.

Her grip on my throbbing cock was firm and unrelenting. As her head descended once more, I could see the enjoyment in her eyes she tried to hide. She went deeper this time, her head bobbing up and down, the room filling with the sounds of soft gasps and choking. Her throat offered a tight heaven that pushed me to the brink. Gagging and spitting, she drove herself to her limits, her pussy clenching around nothing, needing attention—the sounds alone pushed me to near madness. She blinked, becoming aware of the state I was in, my balls tightening against her chin, she could feel I was close and that I was ready.

I watched, mesmerised, as my cock slid out of her throat and mouth, a single thread of hot saliva connecting the tip to her crimson lips.

“Maybe now you’ll let me cum?” Her words filled me with striking obedience. I nodded, mouth open, gasping. She stood up, and I could see how drenched her inner thighs were, her soft skin sticking together as she opened her legs. The sight was delicious. “If you’re going to fuck your Aunt, you might as well do it properly.” Her lewd, confident words matched the grace of her movements.

I watched her elegant figure turn around, her back facing me. Her ass jiggled softly, inviting my touch. Her hands, adorned with red-painted nails, pulled her cheeks apart, revealing the slick lips of her alluring pussy, the pink insides peeking out—inviting me.

I was not prepared as she began sitting down on my lap once more. With skilful precision, my eager cock met the ingress of her pussy. I gasped as the tip disappeared inside, gently massaged by her contractions, drawing me deeper as my hips instinctively angled upward.

“You’re really big, sweetie. Don’t do that. Let Aunt Carmen do it.” I obeyed, sitting back down, letting her descend as my cock stretched her open. The sight of my girth gliding effortlessly into her made my heart pound and my brain melt with intensifying pleasure. With her legs closed, her tightness was even more pronounced. The velvety walls of her pussy barely accommodated me. My hands gripped the sofa cushions as her ass connected with my hips with a wet slap, her soft cheeks squishing against my belly. Her pussy dripped gently on my thighs as she wiggled her hips to adjust, each movement stirring and stretching her insides as her inner heat made me throb with anticipation.

The tight, slick drag of her pussy against my cock made the world melt away as I watched her feral yet feminine movements. My cock withdrew to the tip as she lifted her hips, then she slammed back down with a potent slap and a high-pitched whimper. She paused to recover, her ass tensing and flexing on me, the depth of this stroke resonating with her.

“You can touch it,” she offered with a charged, crackling voice. I gladly accepted, my hands grabbing the ample cheeks of her decadent ass. My fingers sank into her supple flesh, groping and kneading until red marks of my lust appeared. Unable to resist, I slapped her right cheek, watching the gentle shockwaves reverberate through the soft, inviting flesh.

She let out a shocked whimper, her pussy eliciting an unbearable clench on the base of my cock, making me wince. “Who let you do that!?” Her grip tightened as she pushed herself back onto me, bending my throbbing cock backward.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Carmen, please!” I begged for mercy, my hands gripping her soft waist in protest.

“You better watch yourself.” Her voice was stern but dripping with enjoyment. “It’s my turn to get what I want.” She eased her grip and began moving forward. “Be a good boy and try not to cum.” I nodded, obedient, as she sat up, her back stretching before me, her shadow looming over my body.

She moved gently up and down, each thrust expertly punctuated by a clench of her pussy. I fought with every fibre of my being to endure this exquisite torment. Her back glistened with sweat, the potent smell stirring an animal passion within me. My mind begged to empty myself into her, but I resisted.

I watched sweat droplets roll down the contours of her back, disappearing into her black garter belt. The sounds of our union grew wetter and sloppier as her pace quickened. My pulsing girth stripped away her inhibitions; muffled moans turned into whimpers and cries, groans through gritted teeth as she slammed into and grinded deeply, weaving exquisite circles with her hips.

Her hands rested on my knees, her weight clinging to me. The harmonic slap of our bodies held me teetering on the edge. Her hand disappeared between her thick, tender thighs, and soon I felt strange contortions of her pussy. She was desperately and frantically rubbing her delicate bud, her wet clit flicking between her fingers, her head dropping as her back arched, muscles tensing rhythmically.

Her gasps grew louder and deeper, the living room windows thick with condensation from our breath and exertion. She ceased the long strokes, grinding on me, her pussy dripping onto my thighs as she gripped me tightly. Her cries grew strained as her belly convulsed and her thighs flexed intensely.

“I’m cumming, fuck, fuck,” she panted, desperation in her voice. “Fuck your slut aunt, you little pervert!” She commanded as her legs gave out, convulsing on top of me. I thrusted up frantically, angling my hips to get as deep as possible.

In my fervour, I forgot myself, letting the pleasure wash over me. “I’m cumming too, Aunt Carmen, I’m sorry!” I groaned, feeling the rush of my hips and cock pulsing as I spilled my cum into her womb with fervent intensity. “Yes, please, fill me up!” She peered back at me, her cheeks blackened with running makeup, pleading not to waste a drop. I felt the streams of my hot cum spread my warmth through her belly, my seed deep inside my aunts twitching pussy. 

We collapsed, basking in the aftermath, our hearts racing. The heat of her skin left red marks on my thighs and stomach, her weight restricting my breath as my eyes traced the perfect curves and valleys of her body—her feminine perfection.

Silently, she began getting up, her hand gripping my spent cock to keep all my cum inside her pussy, releasing me from her depths. She adjusted her panties as a barrier for my essence.

Her gaze caught me focusing on her deliberate action. “What? If any dripped out, you’d have to fuck it back into me,” she smirked, eyeing my aching cock resting on my thigh. “And we both know you don’t have it in you tonight.” A genuine smile adorned her face, the corners of her eyes wrinkling with affection. “I had fun; let’s do it again sometime.”

I sat silently, drenched in sweat and my aunt’s essence, her smell clinging to me. I watched her don her large coat and saunter out of the room, the click-clack of her heels fading away.

Sometimes, accidents aren’t mistakes.

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Chapter 1, Part 1 (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

Continuation from the Prologue Here

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to implement real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger warnings: In full on the Prologue chapter Wordcount: 4.1k+

This chapter is a backstory of how Toji and Reader met. Since Toji is not necessarily a main character in this story, I don't want to focus on a lot of detail for this backstory. But it needs to be told.

Toji and Reader are in high school, Toji is a senior, and reader is a freshman. Though I don't specifically put anything into detail, since everyone is a minor, you get the basic idea. Toji is not a good guy.

Since this is backstory, Sukuna isn't mentioned or appears in this chapter at all.

Sighing quietly, you stowed your street shoes in a cubby before putting the school slippers on. This semester came up too quickly. Your parents decided to move over the summer, so you were starting this new school year with no friends or acquaintances. Sure, making new friends wasn't the most impossible of tasks, but it could be difficult. Sitting alone in class was for the weirdos.

Not to mention, picking a club to participate in wasn't easy either. Usually, you and your friends would have joined in something together, so it didn't even matter what the club was. Now, you actually had to find something you might enjoy for the next few years to make friends. Browsing the choices during the first of many weekly assemblies, it was stressful to pick. After reading another pamphlet and being disappointed, you turned from the booth to head to the next, but bumped into what felt like a wall, nearly smooshing your nose into your face.

"Woah princess, those eyes of yours don't work?"

Rubbing your nose and cursing under your breath, you glanced up to the tall guy you just collided with, your cheeks easily becoming speckled with your embarrassment. "Uh, they work just fine. You're the one just standing in the way." you retort, trying to regain your dignity while others looked over in curiosity of the small situation. "And don't call me princess."

The guy chuckled and turned to fully face you, putting his hands up in a defensive way. "Calm down, no need to get all fussy. I'm just teasin'." He grinned and put a palm atop your head, slightly ruffling your hair that you had spent over an hour on this morning. A pretty little pout pulled your lips down and you swatted his hand away, bashful at his actions. "Well, excuse you." You snort out, lifting your nose and passing by him, though on the inside you were riddled with panic.

The guy watched as you walked away, though he couldn't deny he was intrigued with your little attitude. He smirked while licking his upper row of teeth before following. "You know, I haven't seen you before, new this year?"

Your frazzled expression didn't go unnoticed by him as you tried to walk faster, wanting to ignore him. Of course, him being much taller, it didn't take long for him to catch up with you once again. "M'guessing those ears of yours don't work either?" he teased, flicking your left ear gently. You whipped around to face him, cheeks puffed in irritation and shyness. "Why are you following me?"

"Just tryna' be friendly." he chuckled and leaned over, placing his palms on his knees to lower his face to yours. It only made the blush on your face darken.

"You think it's friendly to follow girls shorter than you?"

"Short girls that are cute." He smirked, tossing his head lightly to knock the black lochs from his eyes. His cockiness made you fidget and you tried to smile in defiance, not wanting to be flustered by this obviously older and attractive guy. Was he a senior?

"Name's Fushiguro, Toji." He stepped back to offer a little bow and you looked left and then right, afraid people might be watching this little interaction. Why was this guy talking to you? You were already feeling weird to be without your friends from middle school, and now this cute upperclassman was introducing himself to you?

"I, I'm L/N, F/N." You managed, giving a little polite bow in return. It wasn't a bad thing for someone to want to know your name, right? Maybe making new friends wouldn't be so difficult after all.

"So, you new here?"

You nodded while letting out a sigh. "Yeah, moved from Kyoto. My dad got a new business opportunity. So he goes wherever the money is. Just sucks because I had the same friends since I was a little kid, and now I have to start high school with no one." you gestured with you arms before letting them flop to your sides.

"That does suck. Highschool is a big deal, and to go in alone isn't that great. But hey, you know me now, yeah?" He smirked while pushing a thumb into his chest. "Well, I don't know you." you laughed, though smiling with fondness for at least having someone introduce themselves to you already on the first day. "Lets hang out after school, then you can get to know me."

"Damn, so your parents must be loaded then." Toji exclaimed after you presented more information about your home life, or lack of home life to be honest. "I guess. They're pretty absorbed into their jobs. I'm lucky if we even have dinner together a couple times a month. Usually my dad is at his office still working through the evening and my mom is visiting some of her clients." you shrugged while sitting on the bleachers with Toji near the track field. "My parents have basic jobs. They come home stressed and bitch and fight with each other and then my dad passes out drunk most of the time." He laughed as if it was just normal. "That really sucks." You murmured, looking to him with sympathy though he didn't seem to mind his home life.

"Hey, so one of my friends is having a party, or rather a gathering, Friday night for the new school year, wanna go with me?" He asked, changing the subject entirely.

"Oh, I dunno. I know how those parties are." you laughed while stuffing some of the club brochures into your bag. You'd have to pick something by next week, this was a tough choice.

"Ah c'mon. Its not one of those where people are just fucking on couches everywhere." He said so nonchalantly through a laugh.

Your face burned with his lewd comment and you hoisted your bag over your shoulder. "I should head home." You stated, taking your phone out to text your parents that you were on the way, not that they would really pay attention, or even respond.

Sensing your uneasiness, he stood up as well, taking hold of your wrist gently. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. It's just a simple get together for everyone to meet and get acquainted before we get too far into the semester. A good way to meet new people and make friends." He said with a suggesting tone, noticing you didn't have anyone else talk with you all day.

"I don't know if a freshman girl should show up to a party with a senior guy." You laughed, gently tugging your wrist against his grip. "Look, just think about it. I can pick you up at like 7, and I'll bring you back at an early time." He offered, and then took your phone from your other hand. You tried to protest but he smirked and held your phone up out of your reach, going into your contacts and adding his number in. You tried to climb up higher to get your device but he pressed call on your phone to make his phone ring, easily getting your contact info into his own phone.

"Did you just get my number?" You pouted, finally able to snag your phone back after standing on a taller bleacher row. He chuckled while letting you get it back. "It's your first year of high school. Don't be boring and stay at home. Come out, meet some people, have a good time. Where's the harm in that?"

The blush on your face refused to leave, and you pulled your lips in. "I think you're going to be a bad influence, Mr. Fushiguro." You stuck your tongue out while hopping down to the lower bleacher row.

"Maybe." He said while ruffling your hair again. You scowled and quickly whipped around, though losing your footing in the process. A little scream fell from your lips as gravity began to pull you, but it was cut off as Toji quickly caught you with a strong arm around your waist.

"Apparently, your little feet don't like to work either." He said quietly, holding you safely to keep you from falling.

Your hands had instinctively grasped onto his shirt and you gulped hard as he pulled you back up, the two of you standing ridiculously close together. Okay, this guy was incredibly hot, but he was several years older than you. Sure, a lot of senior guys dated freshmen girls, it was rather cliche. But jumping into that immediately upon starting high school wasn't in your plans at all.

"I, I have to go!" You nearly bleated out, letting go of him and turning to run down the bleachers, hoping you wouldn't trip and fall flat on your face.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" he yelled after you, raising a hand to wave as you continued your flustered run from him.

Friday, 6:55 PM

Sitting on your bed, you looked over the upcoming school schedule, planning your study time that was soon to start once you were assigned homework. When your phone dinged out with a message, you glanced to it curiously, hoping it was a continuing conversation from one your friends that you moved away from.

-"Hey, I'm here. Come on out."-

"What?" You said aloud, re-reading the message a few times to make sure you understood it. -"Nice try. You don't even know where I live."- You texted back through a laugh, shaking your head at his obvious joke.

Hearing a knock upon the front door down the hall, you completely froze. No way he was actually here, right? You slowly slid off your bed, going to your door and looking out as the knocking came again. Tiptoeing down the hall, you gulped as there was another knock right as you reached the door. You looked through the peephole, and nearly dropped your jaw when you saw Toji on the other side. The two of you got to see each other at school all week, as he sat with you at lunch and after school. It was nice, honestly. Having at least one person you were happy to see when you arrived each day. It made you feel less nervous walking into a school full of new people.

"Oh my god, are you a stalker?" You playfully gasped while opening the front door dramatically. An arrogant grin adorned his face as he shrugged in response. "Told you I'd be here. And you don't look ready at all, tsk tsk." You stuck your tongue out to him and turned to walk down your hall, leaving the door open so he could come in. "I honestly wasn't expecting you to show up at my house."

"Hey, I'm a man of my word." He chuckled and closed your front door before following you down the hall. "Your parents home?" "Nope. I mostly only see them in the mornings, if they're in town. Like I said, I'd be lucky if we even eat dinner together a couple times a month. Mom is in Kyoto and dad is in Osaka. They couldn't even bother to be here for my first week of starting high school."

You grumbled while rummaging through your closet, trying to find something cute to quickly change into while Toji casually looked around  your room. "Damn, got enough stuffed animals on your bed?" He snorted and you pouted to him while pulling out a short, little dress. "Stuffed animals are great to have on the bed."

"I think I'd much rather have a girl on my bed than some stuffed animals."

You rolled your eyes while holding up the dress to yourself and looking in the mirror. "You boys all have a one set mind. Doesn't it get boring?" "Boring? Absolutely not. How can you say sex is boring?" He laughed while plopping down onto your bed, some of your stuffed animals falling over against him. You shrugged nonchalantly and turned away from him, hiding behind your closet door to change. "Well, I've never done it, so I guess I can't have an opinion on it."

Of course, you weren't aware of the interest you just sparked in this guy. He also wouldn't let you know that if he leaned back enough, he could see your reflection in the nearby mirror as you changed, despite you thinking you were out of sight. A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched your young and untouched body with perverse desire. The younger girls were more susceptible to his advances, not usually ones to put up a fight or resist because they were ignorant and shy. He cocked a brow at your lacy thong before letting out a slow breath of air to calm himself.

Patience. Must be patient.

"Oh, a gentleman." you cooed as Toji opened the passenger door for you to his car, well, his dad's car. You got in, tucking your short dress under your thighs while doing so.

"I'm full of surprises." He smirked, leaning in and buckling you into the seat before you had a chance to do it yourself. Your breath hitched at his closeness and feeling his palm brush over your thighs while he moved the seatbelt across your lap. He turned his head and smirked at you before stepping back and closing the car door. A little shaky breath left your lips as you sat alone for a moment. This was certainly new for you, and you weren't sure if the pounding in your heart was from happiness or anxiety. Or maybe a mix of both. Your parents never paid a lot of attention to what you did, but you really weren't a wild child. Maybe you never let yourself get into situations that could be a mix of excitement and adventure. This senior guy was clearly flirting with you, so what? People flirt all the time. Its fun and innocent. Especially being new to town and to school, you weren't going to deny the attention from someone. Not like you got any from home.

"So, are you some stalker or something? I never gave you my address." You teased, looking over to Toji as he drove. "Maybe I followed you home." He said with a fake scary voice and you scoffed while rolling your eyes playfully. "Well, you did say you followed short girls." "Short girls that are cute." he corrected. You blushed at his handsome grin and looked the other way out of the window, letting the thought of how he knew where you lived leave your mind. Oh, you poor girl. You clearly had no idea the kind of guy Toji Fushiguro was. Or rather, the kind of monster he'd turn out to be.

It was definitely one of those types of parties. A lot of the other students in attendance were seniors and juniors. There were a handful of sophomores, and you weren't sure if there were any other freshman besides yourself or not. There was the usual drink buffet in the kitchen as most parties had, and you were more than certain someone had spiked everything, so you drank with caution. This might not be your normal scene, but you weren't going to be a chicken shit and whimp out. A senior guy, a hot senior guy, invited you here. No one was being rude to you, and other than seeing several people making out in various corners, grinding on each other on couches, or rolling joints in little huddles, nothing dangerously bad was happening. You still stuck close to Toji, only cause you had no idea who anyone was. A couple other guys had commented on your sexy little dress, and you can't deny the little thrill of approval you got from it. However, Toji didn't approve of their little comments. He'd give a dirty look to any guy making a comment on your dress, telling them to piss off. You thought it was cute, and you admired the little protective side he was showing, especially when he put an arm around your shoulder each time another guy was too interested in the amount of skin you were showing off.

"Are you jealous?" you teased while getting another drink from the kitchen. "Heh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He snorted while getting a beer from the fridge. "Maybe? Cute, little freshman girl with a big, jealous senior guy? I have scary dog privilege." You laughed while pushing against his arm playfully. He drank his beer while smirking down to you. "I'll fight anyone that tries to touch what's mine." A shudder went through your body, and it wasn't of fear or worry. It was a new feeling of interest and curiosity. Maybe it was the spiked drink, or the result of growing hormones, you weren't sure. "Okay, I really need to use the bathroom." You quickly excused yourself before the blush on your face could get any more intense, shuffling past others to head in the direction you hoped was right.

You splashed some water on your face and let out a heavy breath, calming your nerves. Were you feeling, turned on? Sure you were still young, but you knew people who had started fooling around when they were your age and even younger. But, you've never done anything with anyone before. You always tried to be on your best behavior for the sake of your parents, but you were really bummed from the recent and sudden move. It was a new place, new people, a new school year. It should be harmless to have fun and play around. Teenagers messed around a lot. Wasn't uncommon. You didn't want to come off as immature or a prude when you finally got your moment. But, you definitely knew you didn't want that moment to happen any time soon.

When you came back from the bathroom, Toji was in some drinking contest with another guy, and you watched with amusement while sipping on your obviously spiked drink. It was fruity, and had a little kick to it, but it tasted good. You were feeling a little fuzzy though, and it didn't help with how you viewed Toji. When he slammed his empty drink down on the counter and licked his lower lip, you swallowed hard. You were definitely falling into some cliche scene right now, but whatever. It was cliche cause it happened often, and was pretty normal.

When he noticed you, he left the guys and headed your head, a big grin on his face. "Like what you see? You're staring at me like you're hungry." "Maybe I'm just hungry." you said while setting your now empty cup down. "Wanna ditch this and get some real food? Just the two of us then?"

Your heart skipped a little beat at the idea of sitting down at a restaurant with just the two of you. Felt like a little date. Is this how dates went? You asked if he was good to drive, which he waved you off and said obviously. Apparently he'd already been drinking for a few years, and some beers and a few shots at a party weren't anything to get him too intoxicated. Good for him, cause your head was pretty foggy still.

He took you to a decent little restaurant, and you smiled bashfully when he got out of the car and opened your door for you before you could even get unbuckled. "You just continue to be a gentleman." you laugh, shaking your thighs to make sure your short dress wasn't up too high as you stepped out of the car. "All for you, princess."

"Nah, you don't want that." Toji laughed as you started to name off what you'd like to eat. "No?" "It wouldn't be good." "Well what should I order then? Since you seem to know more than me." You stuck your tongue out at him and he chuckled while looking over the menu. "Here, this. It tastes way better anyway." He pointed to something and you shrugged. "Fine with me then." It didn't seem like a lot of food came with his choice, but it was delicious. Nothing wrong with great tasting food. You did enjoy Toji making an effort to keep talking with you though, and not just checking out his phone, even though you heard it chime several times while the two of you ate. The food also helped clear your mind a bit, getting the buzz out of your system. Though, you still admired him all the same.

"Shit..." Toji grumbled while putting his face into his hand. "What's wrong?" "I forgot my fucking wallet at home." He sighed heavily, rechecking his pockets. "Oh, no problem." You said while finishing the food in your mouth. "I can pay for it." "It doesn't particularly look good if I let the girl pay for dinner." He scoffed, looking aggravated about his wallet.  You shrugged and pulled your wallet from your purse. "I can just give the money to you and then you can pay for it."  "You sure?" "It's not that big of a deal. My parents give me plenty of money all the time. I think it's their way of pretending they're in my life." You laughed a little sadly while handing over a decent amount of cash. He looked at it in surprise but didn't hesitate to take it from you.  "I appreciate it." 

Toji put the car into park outside of your home and you let out a heavy breath while looking over to him. "Well, this was actually a pretty fun night."  "Yeah?" He grinned over to you while putting an arm behind your headrest. "Glad you had a good time. Told you it wouldn't be that bad."  You smiled and held the hem of your dress, experiencing those fuzzy feelings all over again. You could have sworn he was leaning in a little closer to you, and you'd be lying if you weren't leaning in more to him as well. 

One of his large hands slipped up under your chin, pulling you into him as his lips connected with yours. Your eyes widened in shock, but you didn't move back from him, you weren't sure you could even if you wanted to. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, both of his hands suddenly gripped onto your arms, pulling you from your seat and into his onto his lap.  "T-Toji!" you whimpered through his lips, finally pulling away and looking up to quickly breathe as his mouth moves down to your neck, sucking on your skin and making you tremble. It certainly sent feelings through your body you never experienced, but feeling what was growing between his legs caused you to panic and you put your hands against his chest. His hands started to slide your dress up from your thighs and you shook your head, trying to struggle in his grip.  "Wait, please, not like this, Toji please." You begged through panting, closing your eyes tightly.

He pulls back from you, aggravated but nodding his head in understanding. "Sorry princess, little bit of that alcohol still getting to me." You're lightheaded while still in his lap, trying not to let your own recent alcohol fuzzed mind lead you into something you weren't ready for. A heavy blush comes across your face as he sighs and gently kisses your forehead, holding you close while opening the door. "Mind if I come in and get something to drink, let the rest of this buzz wear off?" You quickly nodded while licking your lips, still embarrassed from what just happened. You've literally never kissed a guy on the cheek before, let alone get a mouth full of tongue.  Your breath was shaky as you changed in your room, and you looked at yourself in the mirror, not sure if you should be happy or ashamed. 

"Would you like some hot tea?" Toji asks through your closed door and you smiled to yourself. He was really nice though. "Yes please!" you called back, putting on some comfy clothes to relax in.  You sat in the living room, excitedly texting your friends that you just had your first kiss, and with a senior guy no less. They certainly cheered you on, saying it was about time.  Toji glanced to you from the kitchen, seeing you were preoccupied on your phone. He chuckled to himself, pulling out a small packet from his pocket. Checking on you one final time, he made sure you weren't going to look up as he poured the contents of the packet into your tea.  "Here, princess." Toji grinned with charm while handing you the cup of hot tea. You smiled fondly up to him, slowly blowing over the top of it and getting more comfy onto the couch.  "Thank you, Toji." You said before taking a small sip. He nodded with an arrogant grin on his face, drinking his own cup of tea.  "Of course, hope it tastes alright?" "Tastes perfect." You smiled, feeling giddy while still texting your friends and taking another big drink.

I hope you enjoyed! <3 I'm happy to actually be writing this story again. I truly LOVE comments so please leave some! They make me smile so much. ヾ(•ω•`)o

The next chapter will be the final part of the backstory before I more or less fast forward it several years. This wasn't included in my original story, because I didn't think it would be approved of or liked, but like I said, I'm writing this now the way I've wanted. <3

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

For some time I thought about if I should post anything, but I decided to do so in case anyone else needs it (because I have been a tiny bit burnt out for the past year or so):

Your hobbies are supposed to bring you joy. Don't let it become a job; a "responsibility". You don't have to be "on" every day

Chances are that there will be someone who keeps bugging you even after politely telling them that you're not interested or that "you might consider it" or something along those lines. (This is how I ended up doing some role-playing for a fandom I was not interested in, in my dms) Some people will keep expecting things from you, while ignoring your boundaries. Don't let them (aka block; they might call you "mean" or "rude", but you're not)

You can't cater to everyone, so it's better to have your group of friends, along with some friendly acquaintances with whom you can make the best of your fandom experience

A block isn't a reflection of morality or "badness", especially on algorithm based mediums or Discord (tip: if you're in a larger public server with someone who overwhelms you or annoys you, blocking them will hide their messages from you. It's like being able to be in the same club house without forcing yourself to engage with someone) Yes on Tumblr you can always unfollow, but you can still see their posts in the tags. Cater to your experience. A block isn't a big deal (I know I have been blocked by people who don't like seeing reader insert fics in their feed/tags, and that is completely fine. And I have probably been blocked for other reasons as well. It's not a big deal)

Promote things you want to see, create things you want to see, and enjoy the process

Publishing that Work/Art/Fic is scary, but that is the only way to get it out there (and if you're worried about "not being 'good enough'" whatever that might mean, remember that you have to start somewhere. I started with sentences that were all over the place, and just last year got a comment about having good grammar; after 3-4 years of writing in a foreign language)

Be cringe. Be free. Do things you enjoy! Pet a dog, go for a walk, draw that oc or blorbo or both or daydream about them. The world is bleak rn, but you have to try and find enjoyment from little things. You can't give from an empty basket, so if you're spent all the time, being there for those you care about becomes impossible somewhere down the line. "You have to take care of yourself, in order to care for others." Stop to breathe

More often than not, you just existing and enjoying life brings a kind of stability and enjoyment to others. I think about this one time in high school chemistry class, where I was knitting (yes Chemistry, don't ask), and this one girl came up to me afterwards and said something along the lines of "I was feeling a lot of anxiety in class, and then I saw you knitting, and I went 'okay, [she]'s knitting, it's going to be okay'". I still to this day don't really know why that was, but it did tell me a thing: people around you, especially those who seek you out, follow you on social media, ask you out just to hang, they like having you around. And to these people, you existing as you are, including taking a step back when you need it, you are valuable as you are