#it’s made the cycle and returned to an obsession

[creativeimagination206]

Alright Sweeney Todd fanbase, I’m looking for input.

What is the general consensus around the 2007 movie? Cause I have to admit… as much as I’m not a huge fan, I have watched it about three times in the past two weeks.

Not entirely sure what that indicates, tbh, but I was wondering what people’s thoughts were.

[sysig]

They’re perfect for each other honestly (Patreon)

[xazse]

okay hear me out…. reverse hybrid au… with tigerhybrid!sukuna bc nobody else can handle him because he’s so aggressive and overbearing .. so reader is their last resort zoo caretaker and they’re is shocked at how it’s like reader has a leash on tigerhybrid!sukuna 😚

I’VE GOT IT?

Synopsis: You’re head of a completely different department so why are you being asked to help with an odd situation?

Warnings: Female!reader + Mean!Sukuna + cringe tropes (sorry) + Hybrid!Sukuna: ears and a tail + heat + cumming inside + doggy + NOTPROOFREAD!!! + obsessed!Sukuna

Pairings: Tigerhybrid!Sukuna x female!Reader

Notes: I’m really working to improve my writing for you guys!! Esp my non-English speakers

“Miss please you know we would never beg like this if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I don’t specialize in that field, how many times must I tell you?”

You were getting sick of these scientists coming to you more often than normal, there’s three right now begging for you to take on a case that you didn’t want to do.

“Sukuna is out of control, he’s already injured five of our best, now they refuse to work with him”

“And I should be the sixth?” You say with a quirk of your brow.

They all stop and stare at one another, you have a good ass point what makes them think that you’ll be the antidote for their beast they decided to keep.

“Like I said, my stance on this won’t change.”

Another voice in the doorway of your office speaks up: “I’ll upgrade your pay and have you transferred up.”

Your ears perk up at this offer, to go even further where you are right now means business and a fuck ton of money. On the flip side it means facing whatever they’re against but you’ve always been a little greedy for money so you oblige.

The scientists made sure to throw you in the thinnest garments: “to let him know you don’t have anything on you.” As they put it.

They also had told you no sudden movements and to talk with him in a calm manner, show him you aren’t afraid and find out what’s been making him so angry lately. Easy peasy except your life is on the line!

You disregard any negative thoughts of death and make your way into the place where they keep their hybrids, it’s like little apartments where they can do as they please in return for information on their biology, as far as you know they love it here. You’ve once met puppy!hybrids Satoru and Suguru they were very sweet men, needy but sweet.

Your first step into the apartment is met with a strong smell, a smell of something primal if that even has a smell. It’s warm.

You start poking around his place, checking his fridge and looking for anything out of the ordinary, nothing seems amiss though. It’s not until you come up to one of the doors and hear slight noises. You press your ear up closer making the noise more clearer: whining it sounds like whining.

Could he perhaps be In pain? You knock three times and announce you’re coming in. The door clicks and you start slowly pulling it open. You see the man in all his glory resting upon his bed, arms wrapped around his pillow and an unreadable expression.

Sukuna is big, he’s a big man compared to all the other hybrids, he’s brimming with pure muscle. Does he workout in here? Your thoughts are interrupted by slight growling: he’s warning you. Step any close r and he will have no choice but to harm you.

You pay him no mind, instead you step fully in and start looking around without a care in the world.

“You’re making trouble- why is that?” You say while looking through his dresser.

“You’re being extremely nosy, leave before I kill you.” He threatens harshly.

“If you harm me I’ll have you sent somewhere else, I know where you come from and I’m assuming you don’t want to go back.”

The room goes eerily silent like he’s making a choice, he opens his mouth to speak but a groan accidentally slips past his lips.

Oh… the big oaf is in heat, and top scientists couldn’t tell or try to track his cycle?

“You in heat big guy?”

“No-“

“Such a liar, I’m not here to make fun of you, I’m here to make sure you get proper help.”

“The only way I’ll get proper help is if I fuck someone.” So damn blunt you think to yourself.

He continues speaking: “I think you know they won’t allow that though.”

“Would you like some toys? I can request that for you.”

“Useless.”

You let out the loudest sigh and plop down on his fluffy bed. Bending your head in his direction you see he’s not looking at your face but your body, eyes fully trained on your pert nipples because of the cold.

You allow the poor suffering hybrid to mount you, putting a good bit of his weight on your back you can feel the outline of his thick meaty cock resting near your cunt and ass.

He’s hard, fully hard and probably has been for a while: you feel almost a little bad.

Sukuna doesn’t waste anytime grinding down against you, it feels so fucking good, his cock is accepting anything even if it’s the bare minimum. Everytime he meets your ass he whines, such a needy tiger you coo.

He’s ignoring all the dirty little comments you send his way too focused on the only good sensation he’s felt for a while, his hand doesn’t compare to your rounded ass. You reach between your legs and pull his shorts down, letting his cock bob free for a minute before he’s pushing up against you again.

He’s producing so much precum that youCan feel it through your silky garments.

“Smells so good… really good.” “Mhhhphmmm-“ he’s now being open with his groans too focused on the feeling of his tip prodding your clothed pussy. His swishing tail is within your eyesight, you grab it and rub it for extra stimulation.

You help him a little bit by bouncing your ass against him. He places his head in the crook of your neck and starts nibbling on your neck, you can feel how sharp his damn teeth are and pray to yourself he isn’t going to bite you: killing you in the process.

He doesn’t do any of that instead he just lightly bites, using no strength at all. While he’s busying tearing up your neck you slip your panties off, grabbing his fat length and teasing your wet hole. Just feeling it in your hand has your body burning up in arousal it’s been a while since you’ve had a cock, especially a cock his size.

You slowly start inching it in, the stretch is so damn unbearable and uncomfortable. When he feels what you’re doing he starts moving his hips already. An impatient thing such as him isn’t gonna wait. He gets about halfway in and you feel a thick liquid fill you, did this beast just cum? Already?

“Nhhhnn.. fuck-..” this doesn’t deter him because he’s sitting fully on his knees and pulling you flush against him, his entire length snuggly inside your pussy. He doesn’t wait to bounce you back on him, you can’t comprehend anything properly so shocked by how he just made you take every inch of him.

Your lashes flutter closed as he ruts into you like you’re the damn sex tox he’s been given, one he wasn’t gonna take care of properly. His hold on you is extremely tight so you can do nothing but take him fully, even when your walls threaten to constrict around him he pushes through it and keeps fucking Into you.

You allow him, allow him to thrust like a wild animal, mercilessly pulling all the way out of you just to slam back in. Drool is seeping down your neck where he’s latched on in droves. He’s far too gone, pussy has never felt this good.

By the end Sukuna is still rutting uselessly, he’s not even hard anymore he just can’t stop leaking cum nor has that good euphoric feeling stopped. He’s made a mess of your pussy, his cum and yours seeping down your thighs and onto his ruined sheets.

Hes licking at your face and you can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, this big hybrid is purring in content. Any attempt to move from under him is completely halted, he won’t let you move even an inch.

He begins sucking on your nipples, they’re definitely gonna be sore later but now it seems he just wants comfort and you fully give that to him. Rubbing his ears and whispering sweet nothings to him.

After that incident Sukuna is completely attached, he constantly whines for you to come see him including the scientists also calling for you to calm him down. He won’t let you have a moments peace.

Even when you tell him you’re extremely busy he’s having none of it, if he wants you to laze around and do nothing but rub him or praise/coddle him he completely expects it!

As his mate you’re meant to be with him all the time you should be grateful he’s even letting you leave the nest.

You were left fully shocked when he first called you his mate but the scientists explained that you were his first and now you are his last, they had all praised you because testing was made easier if you were there.

They’re all surprised to see him completely like mush under you, like one time when it was time for his blood to be drawn he made you come and sit in his lap while he had it taken. The doctors said he seemed to be completely smitten with you, in love and so possessive.

[ellecdc]

the alchemy

prompt from @loca4moony: Hi! I've come with a prompt and a dream. Taylor Swift has a song called the Alchemy and says "where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me." I love the idea of Barty who plays Rugby/Quidditch and his team just won a really big competition but instead of going to the trophy he just runs to kiss/hug fem!reader (I'm okay with gender neutral too). Btw, I ADORE your Barty, I'm obsessed with him but your version is something else.

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who is his treasure trophy [1.1k words]

CW: Barty's childhood and Barty Crouch Sr's A+ parenting, writer who has never once watched a rugby game does her fuckin' best, written with a fem!reader in mind though no pronouns used but gendered use of hero in "heroine" so I labelled it as fem!reader to be safe

Barty’s entire life had been a constant cycle of needing more, doing more, and never being enough. He needed more extracurriculars, needed more A-levels, needed more academic awards.

More, more, more. 

So he did; he did more extracurriculars, he took more A-levels (bloody well aced them too), and he won more academic awards. 

It was not enough. It was never enough. 

The ringing in his ears ceased and he registered the volume in the stadium again once he had the familiar weight of the ball in his arms, his body working off of muscle memory as he took off in a god honest sprint towards the tryzone. 

He had a ball cradled in his arms, he had two working legs, and he had a destination; that was what Barty was working with as he shoved one of his opponents out of his way. It wasn’t enough, he needed more; he needed to create more space.

Shoving one bloke out of his way left him with some breathing room, but he still had players on his heels and a fair distance to run. 

He needed more; more speed, more distance. 

He offed the ball to Rosier to his left as he deked around the player in front of him; barely missing the hands grabbing at him from behind as he heard another body hit the ground. Potter doing his job watching his back as he raced to keep up with Rosier.

His legs and lungs were burning but it was working, the goal line in his sights as he regained the ball after Rosier tossed it and an opponent fumbled it back over in Barty’s direction, and he urged his legs to carry on. His eyes darted to the scoreboard - 16 seconds left. It wasn’t enough, he needed more; he needed more time. 

But 14 seconds was also a lot of time, a lot could happen in 12 seconds; the other team could thwart his efforts, they could keep their three point lead, they could beat his team - beat him. 

The final 10 seconds of the final play of the final game of the playoffs - the Super League Trophy was currently in the stadium, waiting for the final whistle to sound before it made its appearance. 

6 seconds left, less than 22 meters to the goal line. The other team had a three point lead, but-

Barty hit the ground with a thud seconds before the whistle sounded, the ringing in his ears back in full force as any air that had been left in his lungs exited with a forceful whoosh. 

The air returned to him at the same time as other bodies did - teammates grabbing at him, patting him on the back, shrieking and hollering as the stadium erupted. Fans dressed in the team’s colours bouncing and shouting as the lights flashed and hugs were exchanged.

The clock had run out, they had won - Barty had won - with a two point lead. 

“Fuckin’ hell!” Potter shouted as he picked Barty up by the waist. “That was fuckin’ brilliant mate! Just bloody brilliant!” 

“We did it.” Barty whispered mostly to himself as his feet hit the ground again, though Fenwick hollered in agreement. “We fuckin’ did it! We won!” 

The team's mascot came sprinting out onto the field alongside the substitutes from the bench as cameras rushed out to capture it all.  

Barty’s entire life had been a constant cycle of needing more, doing more, and never being enough. 

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

He had aced his A-levels, he had amounted an abhorrent amount of scholarships to whatever school he pleased even though his father could more than afford to send him to university, he won so many academic records that he stopped bothering to try and display any of them; most of them lived in some sideboard that once belonged to his mother’s mother’s mother. 

He’d made a name for himself in rugby and went professional.

He met you.

His treasure.

“That was next level mate, I’ve never seen you run so bloody fast! What the fuck are you on?” Fenwick joked as he roughly jostled Barty by his shoulders. 

“Heroin.” Barty laughed airily, though he added an E to the end of that word in his mind as he started towards the stands.

“Oi! Mate! Where’re you going? The trophy’s this way!” Rosier tried calling after him, but it was no use; Barty didn’t listen.

Because his trophy was waiting for him in the stands. 

He momentarily spun on the spot as he tried to remember what side of the stadium you’d been sitting in when he spotted you waving - clearly aware that he’d been looking for you - as you stood with a beaming smile on your face.

He forced his aching legs to take off in another sprint as he made his way across the field where you were bundled up in a team sweatshirt with his jersey on top. 

“You did it!” You shrieked as he made it to you, but your name - whispered like a prayer - had barely fallen from his lips before he was reaching over the screens that divided the field from the stands to pull you into a bone crushing hug.

He was sweaty and filthy and covered in grass stains but he hoisted you up over the barrier and onto the field with him much to the chagrin of the stadium staff, allowing you to lean back far enough to take his face between both of your hands. 

“You bloody did it! You fucking won!” 

“I fucking won.” Barty agreed before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. 

His father had laughed at him when Barty told him he was pursuing a professional career in the sport; ‘you may have managed to be the best on campus, Bartemus, but there’s no point trying to be the greatest in the league. You’ll amount to nothing.’ 

“I fucking won.” He repeated as he held his forehead to yours, cradling the base of your skull so gently as though it was a holy relic. 

“I’m so proud of you, Bee.” You whispered with a breathy laugh as he noticed tears pooling along your waterline as your eyes turned glassy. 

He heard his team behind him, calling him over for pictures as they began shaking bottles of champagne and handing around celebratory necklaces in preparation for the cup to come out.

He simply kissed you again, hoisting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips as he all but tried to fuse both of your bodies together. 

“I fucking won.” He whispered again as he looked up at you. “I fucking won.”

[kpopscruggles]

Genre - Smut, nothing but filth

Work count - 2k & some change (of porn)

Warnings - roomate yunho and chubby reader cause that's hot, pwp (kinda), mature language, sexual content (obv), speaks about stealing panties, hints of a wet dream, yunho is obsessed with your body fr, foot kisses, unprotected sex, oral (f reciving)), dry humping grinding, It's just filth, reader is confident in this but talks about an insecure moement.

summary - after a wet dream and yunho waking up with a problem, he simple cant go back to sleep. Seeing you wake up not too long later and talk about a date that went south he realizing he's done. He needs you.

I’ve had him in my head since I went to my ateez concert so I need to shed this, also tell me what you thought.

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He panted; his body close to being drenched in sweat; The only stop was the cotton of his clothes soaking it up. This was the second night this week Yunho had that dream... 

The same dream that had been haunting him on and off this month, one week it was all his body and brain could think about, the next week his brain watched you during the day only to think of the perverted scenarios and dream about it the week after that. It was a never-ending cycle that the male could not get rid of. Looking at his phone, he hissed as the screen blinded him “3:05?” he groaned, he was now lying wide awake, still not being able to catch his breath. Eventually he had come to reality, sitting up he let a weak sigh leave his throat before pulling away the comforter and seeing the wet patch of cum in his sweats. He should have known this was going to happen as he began to think about the dream again. 

“F-fuck...so big~” He could not help but feel his heart burst like a fragile little virgin, but his body knew what it was doing. His tip a bright hot pink, watching his slit come in perfect alignment with your swollen clit before he began rubbing his cock against it. Your body shuttering at how sensitive you were “Baby please~ just let me have your cock..I need it so bad...” who was he to deny you? Denying you was never an option for him.  

He chuckled a little just thinking about it, ‘almost like a puzzle piece’ he thought before groaning and soon combing the hair from his face, coming back to the cold and harsh reality. Finally getting up from his bed he made his way to the shower, the cold one didn’t even suffice for him, but he made it work. Soon he even drank a glass of water as he sat on the couch only for it to take over his thoughts again. It wasn’t till the chime of the dryer from the closet had caught his attention. Quickly getting up he walked to open it, seeing your basket he put the items inside and placed it next to the closet door. 

He smiled to himself...he was nothing but proud. At least this time he hadn’t take your panties, yet he reminded himself he hadn’t returned the other ones. Minutes went by, Hours. It wasn't till he looked back into the hallway to see you rubbing your eye as you shut your bedroom door. It was 5 am, why didn't you get your rest? 

“What are you doing up?’ your question, that simple question but with your morning voice ached him. “Oh...nothing...just woke up early I guess.” Hearing you chuckle and making yourself your own glass of water before joining him on the couch. Yunho took a deep breath only to hide it with a yawn right after, “you still seem tired....” Hearing your words then watching you gulp the water; he could only reply by shrugging his shoulders.  

The short responding but steady conversation went on and on, yet Yunho could only admire you. Your face was so precious. He only heard small mumbles leaving your lips. “Yunho?” you chuckled causing him to snap back. God he really had to stop spacing out....” I’m listening” was all he could respond back with, which he wasn’t. He was just watching. He watched your lips move, how you nibbled on them sometimes, but only after you licked them. 

Staring at your lips didn't last long though, once you started turning on the tv to see what late night shows had one more episode before ending, that was his time... 

He being the secret pervert he was for you made sure his eyes scaled down. Straight to your breasts, scanning the area he felt his cock twitch seeing your nipples ever so slightly from your tank top, your bits of chub on your upper arm coming together with your chest and you hugged yourself slightly while finding your show to watch. Fuck your tits, his worst enemy, your chest and him had a love hate relationship. How could he love something so much without touching it, or how could he hate it so much, but it gave him an ache in his cock.  

Your full and pretty tummy, that was the part of your body he wanted the most. Your stomach made him spin in circles. Thoughts of watching the soft fat jiggle ever so slightly as he’d bury his cock in your cunt. The thought of gripping it, rubbing it, spilling his cum on it. Yunho felt sick to his stomach but only because he continued to think about how he wanted you.  

He could keep going, your legs, your thigh thighs, your cunt. Oh god your cunt...knowing behind those cute little sleep shorts was your cute chubby pussy. Knowing it was currently sitting nice and cute in your panties, in his mind it was just gushing and waiting for his cock. The thoughts of your pussy only inches from his face, placing kisses on your plush hood before stuffing his head in you. He knew you would taste so sweet.  

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, that date went awful.” you added and that made his heart hurt a little. “I think he didn’t realize how big I was, which his loss, I’ll just have to find a man who can handle me....” Yunho could handle you; he knew he could. Letting out a sigh he relaxed on the couch before watching you stretch your legs where they rested on his lap. He debated.... Should he admit this? 

“What do you think, when you think of a guy who can handle you?” he questioned before clearing his throat to try and conceal the nervous gulp he just did. His hands rested on your ankle while playing with the small star charm on your anklet before feeling the butterflies in his stomach hearing your small chuckle. Seeing you nibble on your bottom lip as you watched him fumble with the charm. Seeing you think he smiled a little, he knew you had a certain idea in your mind. He could tell you were thinking about saying something risky. 

Glancing at your pretty manicured feet he then looked up once you spoke “I want a man who wouldn’t treat me any different than if I was a skinny girl, I want to be loved like that...I'm confident don't get me wrong, but sometimes I have my moments....” he watched you sigh. “Like I dressed up for that man, I got confident enough to wear a cute tight dress just for him to see my fat and get disgusted, I guess....” Seeing you get so venerable, his poor baby. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to show you he loved you.  

“I loved you in that dress...” he added before rubbing your ankle and taking a glance at you. “I thought you looked so fucking good...” seeing you smile a little he couldn't. He watched your chest heave a little, he was practically doing the same, matching his breathing with yours. “And yes, I mean it...” he added simply. He couldn't take it no more, he had to have you. 

His cock growing a mind of its own, his tip already begging to be inside you. Pushing himself to that limit of holding on long enough. Using his last bit of energy, he made sure he placed himself between your thighs. Hish hands attached to your lips; his body pressed against yours. Feeling your nipples grow hard against his chest. Looking you in the eyes only for a second before attaching his lips to yours. Hearing your small moan but accept his lips just made his cock twitch in a way he could never describe. 

His cock begging to have some friction before it explodes, his only option was to begin grinding against you. “Y-Yunho~” fuck you sounded so sweet to him, hearing you moan his name almost made him so nervous he got sick. Just by those few reactions, he knew you were his, he couldn’t let you go no matter who or what was told to him. The wet patch of your shorts began reaching through his sweat. Your sticky precum causing your shorts to stick to your cunt as he lifted his hips just enough to peek.  

His rutted his hips closer, the pressure on your cunt from the weight of his lower half. His lips attached back to your neck, sucking the darkest shades of purple on your neck. “Gonna..ngh...Yunho I’m gonna cum~” your whimpers rang through his ears. His hips only got faster, you could barely hear him reply “Me too~” but you could hear his moans, he knew you did. Hearing the shaking gasp leave you and the way your nails dug into his skin he could tell you had come. Such a simple yet so sweet release. 

His hips shuttered feeling the spurts of cum fill his boxers, a groan leaving his lips while he bit on your collarbone. Taking a deep breath, he hissed slightly once lifting his hips to reveal the sick mess between you two. “I can't get enough of you~ I have to cum in you baby, will you let me? Please say..please say yes...” he added, still trying to catch his breath. Seeing you nod, he knew that he was gone.  

Sitting up completely he helped you remove your clothes piece by piece before scarring to remove his. Watching the sticky substance glisten on your cunt after he removed your shorts...gripping your leg he immediately started placing kissed on your ankle, slowly moving up your leg. He was so eager enough, but he had to let you know how badly he wanted to make you feel good and cherish what you were giving to him. Seeing your face flushed, your hands gripping the sofa pillow under your head to try and keep yourself grounded. You looked so precious. 

Dipping his head down to your cunt he groaned slight, letting out a breath and watching you shiver from it touching your clit. Your pussy was so much better to see in real time, he struck. The way he imagined it through your shorts. The sticky cum covering your pussy completely, looking up at you one last time before running his tongue over your hood, take the soft fat into his mouth licking the thin layer of cum from it. 

Hearing a pant leave your lips he groaned to himself once pulling away “I've always wanted to have you in my mouth...do you think I could be the only man to love this pussy after this?” he smirked a little before spreading your cunt. Watching your pussy lips gently pull apart, strings of cum soon disappearing the further spread. He sighed again seeing the small hole almost overflowing with the creamy substance that was gushing from you. “Your pussy is so pretty~ Why are you so fucking tempting...” he whispered the last bit to himself.  

Scooping his hands around your thighs he soon had you locked to him. His lips immediately attaching to your clit. Feeling his tongue push past the opening of your outer cunt, his tongue slowly circling your clit. “F..feels so nice~” Your hands running through his hair before pushing his head deeper into your cunt. Your actions showing him you begged for more. He had to give you more. 

Removing his arms from your thighs, one arm running up your body, caressing your tummy before his large hand gripped your breast, running his hands over your nipple. His free hand moving to your cunt, slender fingers slowly pushing past your hole, your gummy walls swallowing his two fingers. He could feel your lips tightening around him, your cunt getting warmer and wetter with each thrust his fingers gave. 

He could tell from the shaking of your hips that you were close. Enjoying himself in his own little world in your cunt, he could feel himself someone processing your release once the small begs left your lips. “Yunho~” You whispered, “Fuck Yunho~” It got louder “UGH FUCK~!” Hearing your cry leave you brought him back to reality. Your hips bucking as he pulled his fingers from you revealing the cum before he sucked them clean.  

Sitting himself up again he watched his cock, the precum oozing from his tip. A drip even falling onto your hood making you both chuckle softly. Seeing your hand come into view, it wrapped around his cock pumping it only a couple times. That dream now feeling like Deja vu once he seen his slit shape to your clit like a puzzle piece. But the Deja vu only lasted for a moment until you pushed his tip into you. 

A small whimper leaving him, he never felt that in his dream. Bottoming his cock into you he chuckled softly hearing your moan and the small squelch from how wet you were. Pulling out completely it only took a deep breath before shoving his cock back into you. “I can’t wait to give you my cum~.” His hips slowly started rocking but that wasn’t enough for his baby as you softly began begging for more. 

He picked up his pace, the small smacking sound echoed in the living room. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” He groaned with every thrust he made. Your loud cries being his motivation to go deeper. Watching you lift your legs, placing your feet on his chest, your gold anklet bouncing with each thrust he made. Your chub jiggling along with your breast, if he didn't find a distraction soon, he was a goner. 

Immediately he took your ankle giving it a couple wet kisses before admiring your pretty feet by taking your toe into his mouth, sucking on it slightly to muffle his filthy moans. Your free leg dropping to his side giving him back the clear view of his cock disappearing in your cunt. “So big baby so fucking big!” Your cried before looking up at him, your eyes barely open as you tried not to tightly screw them shut.  

“A-all for you baby!” he muffled before gently removing your toe and going back to kissing your ankle. “This cock is all yours! My c-cum is all yours! SHIT!” He groaned feeling tour cervix kiss his tip with each go, and he knew he was about to cum. “I'm gonna cum princess!” Your leg now pushed against your chest, and he leaned down to place his forehead against yours “Gonna fill up this fat pussy~ ngh! S-show you how bad I love you, how I can't-fuck~ how I can-not go a day without you!” 

Your cunt sucking him in, begging for his cum. He could not hold it. His stomach dropped; his thighs covered in cum shivering as he plunged into your leaking pussy. The creamy substance done formed a ring around his cock, that sigh was the last straw. One more deep thrust before his warm load filled your insides. The shakey sighs leaving his lips before a choked gasp left him as he felt you cover his cock in your cum. 

Your sticky bodies holding each other tight, the suction from your cunt almost stopping him from pulling away. Soon giving in he let out a whimper before he pulled his cock away from you. A small chuckle leaving the both of you before he gave in giving you a kiss “F-feel free to use me whenever you want. I’m yours like I said” he added making you smile “I think we're gonna be closer than just roommates who fuck..” A flush formed on his face before giving you another kiss and just nodded. He had no problems with that.  

[elikajinnie]

Shadowed Desires - S.J

P: Dead By Daylight Killer!Jake X Survivor!Reader (recommended age 17+)

Warnings: Murder, Obsession, Touchy & Needy Behaviour, Blood/Injury, touch starved jake lol.

Synopsis: A new killer is made of darkness—and now he has his eyes set on you, and he wants to swallow you whole, pulling you to him. After all, darkness always consumes what it wants, leaving nothing but emptiness behind. And soon, you’ll be lost to it.

a/n: finally done with this series :3 i kinda dont like this? idk.. maybe ill delete it.

heeseungs vers sunghoon vers jay vers

--

Ever since the Entity dragged you into its twisted realm, you’d never really had the time—or the chance—to initiate much of anything with the other survivors. There wasn’t room for hugs, no moments for cuddling, and certainly no stolen kisses. Not that you had any romantic connections with any of them, but even something as simple as touch felt like a forgotten luxury.

And the killers? That was out of the question. They were designed to hurt you, to hunt you, to bring pain and death for the Entity’s satisfaction. Over and over, you’d all return to the camp after each trial, alive and unscathed. Unharmed physically, sure, but it all felt meaningless. Same routines. Same outcomes. Same exhausting loop.

Time didn’t matter here. Physical affection didn’t matter. Your feelings? They mattered least of all. Everything was irrelevant in this place. The same cycle, over and over and over again.

It was tiring, to be honest—so quiet yet so endlessly exhausting.

The only reprieve you ever got from the monotony was when a new survivor or killer arrived. For a fleeting moment, it felt like something had shifted, like maybe this new presence could disrupt the cycle. But it never lasted.

The new survivor always followed the same pattern. At first, they’d be terrified, trembling and frantic, trying to grasp the horror of what they’d been thrown into. You’d try to comfort them, maybe offer some kind words, but even that felt hollow. In time, they’d come to understand—just like you had—that there was no escape. Their fear would dull into resignation, their hope smothered by the truth of the Entity’s realm.

As for the killers, they brought a brief curiosity. The camp would buzz with whispered speculations about their abilities, their quirks, their story. But after a few trials, it was always the same. They were there for one purpose: to hunt, to kill, to please the Entity. The only “excitement” they brought was in figuring out how their power worked, what perks they wielded, and how best to survive their hunt. Once that was done, they became just another part of the endless cycle.

Even the killers, as terrifying as they were, eventually became predictable. A face you’d recognize in the fog. A pattern of movement. A strategy you’d seen a hundred times before.

And so, the moments of change you’d cling to at first inevitably folded back into the same unending routine. Nothing really changed here. Not the faces, not the feelings, not the futility of it all. It was a crushing realization every time: no matter who arrived, no matter what was added, this place was always the same.

So you could never expect it to actually change. Change wasn’t something the Entity offered much of. It wasn’t what it thrived on. Yet, on that trial, something did.

It started out the same as always. You were sitting by the fire, exchanging a conversation with Nancy. Then the fog crept in, curling at the edges of your vision, and you were called into a trial. Business as usual. You didn’t expect anything different. Why would you?

But as soon as you dropped into the trial, you knew something was off.

The air was cold, biting at your skin like needles. The ground beneath your feet was hard and uneven made of ancient stone and disturbed earth. The faint sound of whispers filled the air, just on the edge of hearing, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once. You turned, scanning your surroundings, and realized you were in a catacomb.

But this wasn’t the Plague’s temple catacombs, with their decaying walls and pools of disease. This was something… different.

The walls were lined with endless rows of forgotten graves, the cracked stone engraved with faded names you couldn’t read. Shadowy tendrils slithered along the edges of the halls, moving unnaturally, almost as if they were alive. You froze as one of them stretched toward you, curling in the air like it was reaching, calling.

Yeah, no, this wasn’t just a new map—it was something entirely foreign.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you began to move, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the catacomb. The silence here wasn’t the usual quiet; it was alive, buzzing with whispers and the faint scraping of unseen movements. Every step you took echoed, the sound bouncing off the cracked walls around you.

You passed by what might have been burial chambers long ago, their occupants disturbed and forgotten. The floor was littered with debris—shattered stone, splintered wood, and dried remnants of things you didn’t want to name. You kept moving, your eyes darting for the faintest glimmer of light or safety, but all you found were more hallways, more graves, and the ever-present shadows, shifting as if they were watching your every move.

Something about this place felt wrong, even by the Entity’s standards.

You eventually found your way out of the endless labyrinth of tunnels and into a larger chamber. The ceiling loomed high above you, shrouded in darkness so thick it seemed to swallow the dim, flickering light of the torches lining the walls. At the center of the room was an altar, its surface cracked and weathered with age. Surrounding it were pools of… shadows?

They didn’t look like water or any other liquid you’d seen before. They rippled and shifted, alive with an unnatural energy that made your skin crawl. Occasionally, tendrils of darkness stretched out from the pools, writhing as if searching for something.

You approached cautiously, your footsteps hesitant and quiet, unwilling to draw attention to yourself. The shadows seemed to pulse in time with your movements, almost as if they were aware of you. You stopped a few feet away from the altar, your breath catching in your throat.

This map relied solely on shadows—that much was clear. The tendrils, the pools, even the way the hallways seemed to twist and shift in the dark—it all pointed to one thing.

If your theory was right, this possible new killer worked through these shadows.

Your heart pounded as you tried to piece it together. What could their power be? Could they travel through the shadows? Use them to attack from a distance? Or maybe they could manipulate the darkness to obscure your vision, making it impossible to see them coming.

The thought sent a chill down your spine.

A sudden movement to your left made you freeze. One of the shadowy tendrils shot out from a nearby pool, lashing toward the ground before retreating. You took a step back, your instincts screaming at you to run.

But just then you heard it—a low, guttural sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It wasn’t quite a growl, nor was it a voice. It was something in between, echoing from the shadows themselves.

You looked around, confused, your heart pounding in your chest as the low sound faded into the shadows. Suddenly, a scream tore through the silence, sharp and gut-wrenching, and it was close—too close. You barely had time to react before David bolted down the hallway in front of you, clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers.

Your eyes widened as something sharp whizzed past him. Then another, and another. Shurikens? You blinked, trying to process what you were seeing. Shurikens weren’t part of any killer’s arsenal you’d ever faced.

Oh no.

Your stomach sank as a shadow suddenly surged down the hallway after David, swift and silent, like it was gliding through the air. Then, abruptly, the figure halted, the movement unnatural, as if the darkness itself commanded it to stop. And it did—right in front of you.

You froze.

The figure loomed in the dim light, draped in a tattered cloak that billowed as if caught in a phantom wind. The hood obscured its face, leaving you to stare at the faint, shifting tendrils of shadows that coiled around its form. It didn’t seem to touch the ground, its entire body hovering just slightly above it, giving it an almost otherworldly presence.

And then it turned.

The motion was smooth, almost too calm. The killer’s body shifted toward you, and with a deliberate motion, they raised their hands and pulled back the hood.

You gasped.

The killer was… handsome. Not in the way that made you feel safe—far from it. There was something dangerous to his features, the curve of his lips, the way his black, curly hair framed his face. His dark eyes seemed to bore into you, unreadable and endless, as if the shadows themselves were staring back at you.

And the shadows—they clung to him, crawling over his form like a living entity, their movements fluid. It was like he wasn’t just using the darkness; he was the darkness.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The way he tilted his head, the faint smirk curling at the edge of his lips—it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. His eyes burned with a confidence, as if he already knew how this chase would end.

You didn’t wait to find out.

Your legs moved before your mind could catch up, adrenaline surging as you turned and sprinted down the nearest hallway. The air seemed heavier, as you weaved through the twisting corridors, the faint whispers around you rising to an almost deafening hum.

Behind you, you could hear him. His movements were unnervingly quiet, save for the occasional sound of something cutting through the air—shurikens.

The first one hit the wall to your right, chipping the stone. Another whizzed past your shoulder, so close you could feel the sharp breeze as it sailed by.

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath, ducking as another one flew, this time grazing your arm. The sting was immediate, sharp and hot, but you couldn’t stop.

You rounded a corner, your heart pounding in your chest, only to find yourself in yet another dimly lit hallway. The shadows seemed to thicken here, almost as if they were conspiring with the killer to slow you down. You felt another shuriken hit, this one embedding itself into your side. Pain flared, and you stumbled, but you caught yourself against the wall and kept moving.

The whispers seemed to echo his movements, warning you of his approach—or maybe taunting you. You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

You spotted a doorway ahead, partially obscured by hanging tendrils of shadow. Without thinking, you dove through it, emerging into a larger chamber filled with more of those rippling pools of darkness. You hesitated for half a second, scanning the room for a way out, but the faint sound behind you pushed you forward.

Your breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps as you darted toward another hallway, the pain in your side making every movement harder. Still, you couldn’t stop—not with him so close.

And then, just as you thought you might have gained some distance, the whispers around you changed, their tone shifting to something more urgent. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him again, emerging from the shadows as if they had carried him forward.

Your chest heaved, each breath burning as you pushed your body. The pain in your side was relentless, but you couldn’t stop. Not with him so close. The whispers grew louder, their eerie tones twisting in your ears like warnings—or mockery.

Then, just ahead, you saw movement. Another survivor.

It was Meg. She was crouched near a wall, her eyes scanning the hallway with the practiced vigilance of someone who had done this a thousand times before. When she spotted you barreling toward her, her expression shifted from confusion to alarm.

You skidded to a stop beside her, clutching your side, and for a brief moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

Then her gaze shifted behind you, and her eyes widened.

You didn’t need to turn around to know what she saw. You could feel him behind you. Slowly, you turned your head, eyes locking on the figure now standing at the end of the hallway.

The killer didn’t rush. He didn’t need to. Instead, he tilted his head again, his eyes darted between the two of you. Shadows coiled at his feet, slithering across the ground like living things, eager to obey his command.

Meg let out a low, shaky breath. “Great. A new one.”

“No kidding,” you muttered, gripping your side as you tried to steady your breathing.

For a moment, the three of you stood there, the tension suffocating. The killer took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes narrowing as his hand dipped into the shadows, drawing out another shuriken.

“Run?” you suggested, your voice tight with fear.

Meg nodded. “Run.”

Without another word, you both bolted in opposite directions, hoping to split his attention. The sound of the whispers surged again, almost laughing as the chase began anew.

The sound of pounding footsteps faded, and the whispering shadows seemed to hold their breath, the air still for a moment. You paused, chest heaving, your mind racing as you took a quick glance over your shoulder. The hallway was empty now, the killer’s presence a lingering weight in the air.

You didn’t hear Meg’s scream, but you knew—he had gone after her. She’d made the right call, though, splitting the attention. That gave you a fleeting moment of silence.

You took a cautious step forward, listening intently for any sounds—footsteps, whispers, anything—but there was nothing. Not yet, at least. The only thing you could hear was your own breath, ragged and desperate.

You turned down another hallway and spotted it in the distance: the soft, flickering light of a generator.

You approached cautiously, glancing around, but there was no sign of the killer. The shadows were quiet, as though they were waiting for the next move, for the next victim.

You kneeled beside the generator, fingers trembling as you placed them on the rusted panels. Slowly, you began to turn the wheel, starting the repair. Every sound felt amplified—the grinding of the metal, the slight whir of the mechanism turning on. You glanced up every few seconds, just in case, but the silence continued to stretch on.

You kept working, the dull hum of the generator filling the space. The weight of the shadows seemed to recede for now, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. You had to finish the repair.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you twisted the dials, forcing your hands to move quickly despite the sting of your injuries. You could feel the tension rising again, the unease gnawing at your gut. Would the killer come back for you next? Would Meg be okay?

The repair progress bar finally clicked, the generator sputtering to life with a low rumble. You breathed a small sigh of relief, your pulse still racing. One down.

But the moment of peace was fleeting. The whispers had started again—soft, but unmistakable. And then you heard it. A sound far too familiar.

The soft clink of a shuriken spinning through the air.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze by the sharp sound of something slicing through the air. You didn’t even need to turn around to know what it was.

The shuriken flew past you with a deadly precision, missing your side by mere inches, the breeze it created a chilling reminder of the danger.

Without wasting a second, you pushed yourself up, your body reacting instinctively. You didn’t wait to see if another one was coming—you ran.

You sprinted down the hallway, the shadows closing in around you as the whispers grew louder, more urgent. Every step echoed in the narrow, darkened corridor, and you swore you could almost hear him moving with you, just behind, just out of sight.

A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the faint silhouette of him slipping through the darkness, the shadows swarming around his feet like tendrils, moving in perfect unison with him.

You took a sharp turn, heading toward another corridor, hoping to throw him off. Another shuriken whizzed by, the sound sharp and deadly as it embedded itself in the wall just inches from your face.

You didn’t stop.

You could hear him now—closer, his breath, heavy and echoing in the quiet between the whispers, and the realization hit you hard: you had no choice but to outrun him. And somehow, you had to survive long enough to make it out.

But you couldn’t keep running. Not anymore.

The shurikens hit you, one after another, each strike sharp and unforgiving. Pain bloomed in your side, your leg, your shoulder—each wound adding to the weight of exhaustion dragging you down. You stumbled, your legs failing to keep up with your frantic pace, and then, with a sickening lurch, you fell to the ground.

You groaned, struggling to push yourself up, but the world spun and your vision blurred. The cold, dark floor beneath you felt unyielding as you fought to regain your bearings, only for a shadow to loom over you.

You turned your head, half expecting him to pick you up and toss you over his shoulder like you were nothing, to drag you away to whatever horrific fate awaited you.

But he didn’t.

He stood there, hovering, his dark eyes studying you as you laid on the cold floor. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air thick with anticipation.

And then, something shifted.

The shadowy tendrils that seemed to be an extension of him reached out, their touch as cold as ice. They wrapped around you with an unnatural strength, pulling you toward him with surprising force.

You gasped as your back collided with his chest, the sudden closeness making your heart race even faster.

His breath was warm against your neck, a wide contrast to the cold tendrils that still clung to you.

Then you heard it.

A sharp, quiet gasp from behind you.

You turned your head to see the killer, his gaze fixed on you with something… different. Shock? Confusion?

And then, almost to himself, he muttered, “How can I touch you?”

The words hung in the air, confusing you further. What was he talking about?

Before you could react, you felt his arms wrap around you—no, not his arms, but something else. Something... different. His arms seemed translucent, like they were made of smoke or mist, flickering in and out of existence as they moved around your body.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the realization sank in—his arms weren’t fully there. They looked see-through, like they didn’t belong to a solid, tangible person at all.

The killer, too, seemed shocked. His eyes widened, his expression flickering with something you couldn’t quite read. His arms—ghostly, ethereal—were now fully wrapped around you, but when his skin made contact with yours, it felt… strange.

His gasp was barely audible, but it was there, a breathless sound that caught in his throat. For a moment, neither of you moved.

You could feel the heat of his body against yours, yet his touch felt distant—disconnected, like he was struggling to truly reach you.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the killer suddenly moved with startling speed, twirling you around so that you were now facing him. Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself pressed against his chest, his arms locking around you in a firm hold.

You tried to push against him, to break free, but his grip was unyielding, making it impossible to move. He held you there, his face mere inches from yours, his eyes wide with something that looked like desperation and something about it that made you feel uneasy, yet… compelled to stay. His gaze roamed over your face, his breath quick and shallow as he muttered to himself.

"How is this possible?" His voice was barely a whisper, thick with confusion and awe. His fingers gently traced along your arm, but the touch felt as though his skin were made of mist, like he couldn’t fully reach you. Still, he continued, more to himself than you, his words tumbling out in a frantic murmur.

"How are you… different?"

You couldn’t take it any longer. His behavior was maddening, and your own confusion and fear were bubbling over. You snapped, your voice cutting through the tense silence.

"What do you mean?"

The killer’s eyes flickered to yours, a brief flash of hesitation before he answered, the words tumbling out as if he hadn’t meant to speak them at all.

“I can’t touch any of the survivors,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were ashamed of the admission. “Or any of the other killers. I go right through them… like i’m nothing but air. But with you…” He trailed off, staring at you as if trying to make sense of the impossible.

With you… you felt a chill run down your spine as his words sank in. He could actually hold you. He wasn’t phasing through you like he had with everyone else.

"Why?" His voice was barely above a whisper, a tremor of disbelief in it. "Why can I touch you?"

The weight of the question hung in the air between you, leaving a profound silence in its wake. You wanted to say something, anything, but you found yourself at a loss for words. How could you even begin to understand what was happening? How could he be so confounded by his own existence?

Before you could process what he had just said, something shifted in his demeanor. His tense body seemed to perk up, a sudden awareness flashing in his eyes. You followed his gaze, confused, only to hear it—soft at first, then steadily growing louder—the hum of a completed generator in the distance.

The killer’s eyes flickered toward you for a brief moment, a look of determination flashing in his gaze. Then, without warning, he released you from his hold, but his hands didn’t leave you completely. He tugged you toward the shadows with surprising force, and before you could react, he whispered under his breath, barely audible over the whispering darkness.

“I’ll be back for you.”

His voice was intense, almost pleading, as though he couldn’t quite comprehend the gravity of the words himself. Then, in one swift motion, the shadows on the wall seemed to come to life, curling and twisting, reaching for you like a living entity.

And just like that, the shadows wrapped around you, pulling you in with terrifying force.

You gasped, trying to scream or fight back, but it was useless. The shadows enveloped you entirely, suffocating your every movement. You couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, and before you could make sense of what was happening you were no longer standing on solid ground. Your body was floating, suspended in the air. There was no floor beneath you, no walls to guide you. The space around you was entirely dark, a suffocating blackness that seemed to stretch on forever.

You could feel the cold tendrils of the shadows curling around you, clinging to your body, holding you in place as whispers and giggles echoed all around you. The voices were indistinct at first, but they grew clearer, their tones twisted, mocking, and strangely gleeful. It was as if the shadows themselves were alive, sentient, and they were toying with you.

You felt your heart race, your chest tightening as panic set in. You could move, but only slightly, your body caught in the strange limbo.

You struggled, trying to break free, but the shadows only tightened their hold, their tendrils wrapping around you like chains, keeping you suspended in this endless dark void. And all the while, you could sense it—the presence of the killer, somewhere in the distance, maybe watching, maybe waiting.

He’d said he’d be back for you. But what would happen when he returned?

Time seemed to stretch in the endless void, your body suspended and held by the unyielding shadows. The whispers and giggles continued to swirl around you, but the longer you hung there, the more you became accustomed to the presence, as unsettling as it was. Still, you couldn’t shake the sense of anticipation—the knowing that eventually, he would return.

And when he did, you felt it before you saw him.

The shadows that had once clung to you so tightly and suffocating suddenly slackened. You were no longer held by their chilling tendrils; instead, you felt a warm presence behind you. It was as if his body had materialized from the darkness itself, his form pressing against you, pulling you close.

His arms were solid now, no longer transparent like before, and his breath was shallow as he held you, his touch so much more real than anything you had felt in what seemed like an eternity. The weight of his body against yours, the heat from his chest, the steadiness of his breath as he looked at you…

For a moment, neither of you moved, just breathing, existing in that shared space. His eyes, dark and wide, locked onto yours with such intensity that it almost felt like he could see into you, as though he understood you in a way no one else ever had.

He caressed your skin gently, his fingers trailing along your arm and then your face, as if memorizing every inch of you. His touch was tender as if he were afraid to break something fragile—something precious.

You didn’t know if it was the long and lonely time you spent, the isolation and fear that had dulled your senses, or if it was simply him, but you didn’t resist. There was something about the way he looked at you, something about the way he touched you, that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in so long.

His fingers ghosted over your lips, brushing them softly before trailing down your neck, his gaze following every movement with rapt attention. His touch was unlike anything you had ever known—careful, intimate, as if you were something he couldn’t let slip away.

No one had ever looked at you like he did. No one had ever touched you with this kind of gentleness. And no one had ever whispered to you the way he was now, words so soft and soothing, it was almost as if he was trying to comfort you.

“You’re real,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and something else you couldn’t quite place. His lips brushed your ear as he continued, “You’re not like them.”

His words wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing your anxieties, even as they left you with more questions. You wanted to ask, to demand answers, but somehow, in that moment, all you could do was let him continue, to feel the care in his touch and the sincerity in his gaze.

For a fleeting moment, you were no longer a survivor, no longer someone just trying to escape. You were something else, something he was willing to hold, to cherish in this twisted, dark world that seemed to offer nothing but pain.

And it was terrifying. Because you didn’t know what it meant. You didn’t know what was happening, what was real anymore.

But none of that mattered. Because in his arms, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time—a connection.

The moment stretched in the strange, suffocating stillness of the shadowy realm, but soon enough, the air around you shifted. The shadows that had clung to you like a second skin began to stir, moving in ways that made the atmosphere feel thick.

The killer’s eyes snapped toward the shadows, his expression darkening. He muttered something under his breath, something sharp and frustrated. A curse, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was enough to snap him into action.

Without warning, he pulled you with him, his strong arms gripping you firmly as he yanked both of you out of the shadows. The darkness that had enveloped you receded as you were dragged back onto solid ground, the familiar, grounding feeling of the catacombs’ floors beneath your feet.

Even as your feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go of you. His hold on you tightened, his body pressed close to yours, as if he feared you might slip away again. You glanced up at him in confusion, but he said nothing, simply continuing to walk, his pace steady, the urgency in his movements palpable.

His grip never wavered, and the shadows around you seemed to retreat, leaving you with nothing but the sound of your footsteps echoing through the silence of the map. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you didn’t dare question it. Not now, not with the strange bond that seemed to have formed between you.

As you walked, you spotted something familiar in front of you. The hatch. You couldn’t quite believe it, but there it was, just ahead of you. The familiar shape, the light flickering from within—the hatch.

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you: You were somehow the last survivor left? How had that happened? When did that happen?

You looked at the hatch, then back at him, your mind racing with a thousand questions. The world seemed to freeze for a moment as your gazes locked. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes said it all—he was waiting.

Slowly, his hand moved to your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that was almost unbearable in its intensity. His face was close now, and you could feel his breath against your lips as he leaned in, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips in a way that made your breath hitch.

He didn’t say anything at first, but then, in a voice so low and desperate, it sent a shiver through you, he muttered, “Please... don’t run from me next time.” His words were a plea, a aching cry from someone who didn’t seem to know what to do with the feelings he was experiencing.

You could only nod, stunned, still trying to process everything that had happened. The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, everything seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you.

Without another word, he brushed your hair away from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long, as if reluctant to let go. Then, as though he had made up his mind, he gently lowered you toward the hatch.

You felt the soft, unexpected drop, and before you knew it, you were tumbling through the entrance.

A wave of warmth washed over you as you fell, as your wounds and the scratches healed. The pain, the exhaustion, everything vanished, leaving you feeling as though you had never been touched by the chaos of the trials at all.

You landed softly, the familiar sight of the survivor camp filling your vision. The flickering of the campfires, the distant chatter of the others, the comfortable hum of life returning to normal…

But something had changed.

You had returned to the camp, yes, but not in the same way as before. Something about your connection with the killer lingered, something that couldn’t be undone, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The shadows were still there, somewhere within you, calling to you.

--

It took a total of five trials before you found yourself back on his map. This time, however, something was different.

The moment you dropped into the trial, the shadows on the walls didn’t feel suffocating. No, this time, they seemed to welcome you. The familiar whispers that usually chilled your spine were replaced with something… lighter. Almost playful. Giggles danced around you like echoes in the distance, as if the shadows themselves were delighted by your arrival.

You looked around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The environment felt different, more open. You weren’t in the catacombs this time. Instead, you were standing in the center of an open chapel. The stone floor beneath you was cracked, worn by time, but the space itself felt strangely sacred.

Above you, the remnants of a collapsed dome hung precariously, the shattered stained-glass windows glinting in the dim light. The shards of glass were scattered across the floor like fractured pieces of a long-lost memory, reflecting faint flashes of color from the soft light that filtered in from above. It was a beautiful sight, even in its ruin. The chapel was a hauntingly perfect contrast—so full of potential, yet broken, like everything else in this world.

But you couldn’t focus on the surroundings for long. The atmosphere felt… different. It was as if you were being watched, but not in the usual way. The giggles, the whispers—they didn’t hold the same weight of threat as before. Instead, they were more like a gentle invitation, teasing you, drawing you in. It felt like the shadows were beckoning you, urging you to stay, to explore.

You had a feeling—no, a certainty—that this trial would be unlike the others.

You glanced around the chapel, the giggles of the shadows still echoing faintly in your ears. It was strange—this quiet sense of calm that had settled over the place. The air felt thick, yet there was no immediate threat. For the first time since you’d entered, you allowed yourself a brief moment of focus, and that's when you spotted it.

In the corner, tucked away amidst the broken pews and cracked stone, was a generator. You couldn't believe it at first, but there it was, its faint hum calling you towards it. Without thinking, you made your way over to it, the sound of your footsteps reverberating softly against the chapel's walls.

When you reached it you didn’t hesitate. You kneeled beside the generator and got to work, fingers deftly turning the dials and adjusting the levers, your mind oddly focused. There was something almost peaceful in the process, a rhythm you’d become familiar with in the trials. As you worked, the air around you seemed to settle, and you couldn’t help but feel as though someone was watching you, encouraging you.

It wasn’t long before you heard it. The unmistakable sound of your heartbeat growing louder and a familiar shiver ran up your spine. The shadows seemed to grow darker, more pronounced, as the figure appeared at the edge of your vision.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was. His gaze, though unseen, was like a weight on your back, pulling your attention toward him, and you could feel it—his gaze—drawn to you, to the way you were moving, to the delicate process of repairing the generator.

For a moment, you thought you heard him chuckle softly, the sound of it lingering in the air like a haunting melody.

Eventually the generator clicked into place with a soft, satisfying hum, signaling that it was finally working. You stood up, brushing off your hands, only when you turned around you saw that the killer was standing far too close for comfort. His dark eyes seemed to be watching you with an intensity that made your heart race, and before you could react, he moved.

In a swift motion, he reached out and pulled you into him. His body was firm against yours, and yet strangely gentle. The suddenness of the contact took your breath away, and you found yourself trapped within the circle of his arms, the warmth of his body radiating through you, as if he was desperate to hold you, to keep you close.

His breath brushed against your ear as he nuzzled into your neck, his presence consuming you, the shadows around you seeming to swirl tighter, more alive, as though they, too, were eager to wrap around you. The giggles in the distance faded, replaced by the steady sound of his breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands as you tried to steady yourself.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. The way he held you felt oddly familiar, like a part of you that had been missing for far too long had finally found its place. And his touch, though a little colder than it should have been, was still comforting in a way you couldn’t explain.

The killer’s fingers gently threaded through your hair, his touch delicate, as if he were afraid of hurting you. He nuzzled closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his voice barely a whisper against your skin. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” he murmured, his words almost like a confession, a desperate plea.

The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and vulnerable, and your heart stuttered in your chest. The shadows around you seemed to respond to his emotions, curling and shifting as if they were reflecting his mood.

You didn’t know what to say, or if you even could.

You tried to pull away, a desperate need for some breathing room overtaking you. The closeness of his body was overwhelming. His grip tightened in response, pulling you back against him with a sense of urgency, as though letting go wasn’t an option for him.

“No,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with something you couldn’t place, “don’t pull away.” The plea was buried in his tone leaving you with no choice but to stay close.

He clung to you desperately, his hands tracing the lines of your back, the shadows around you thickening, as though they, too, were unwilling to release you. His breath was warm against your ear as he spoke again, each word drenched in an almost reverent tone.

“You’re… you’re a blessing,” he murmured, his voice trembling with something you hadn’t heard from him before. “The Entity has blessed me with you, brought you to me.”

You froze, the words sinking into you like an anchor, pulling you deeper into his embrace. You wanted to ask him to explain, to make sense of it all, but the way he held you so tightly, so desperately, made it impossible to think clearly.

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t lose you. You are too special for me now.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the confusion and disbelief clouding your thoughts. But the rawness in his voice, the way he clung to you as if you were the last thing that mattered in this twisted world, made you hesitate.

You couldn’t pull away, not with the way he held you, not with the whispers of the shadows wrapping around you like a cocoon. For a moment, you didn’t know if you were trapped or saved.

He eventually slowly pulled away, though his hands lingered on your arms for a moment, almost as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go. You were left standing there, your breath shaky, your heart racing, as he took a step back.

His eyes were focused on you, softer than they’d ever been. You noticed a shift in them, something you hadn’t seen before—puppy eyes, as if he were pleading with you in the quietest way possible. The shadows around you seemed to quiet down, almost as if they were holding their breath, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

He traced your cheek with a finger, his touch light, like he was memorizing the feel of your skin, as if it was something he had dreamed about. His gaze followed his hand, and you could feel the heat of his stare, intense and tender all at once. You didn’t know what to do. It was all too much.

“I can’t stand it,” he whispered, his voice a soft plea, the words just for you. “I need you to stay... please.” His breath was warm against your skin, and before you could respond, before you could even find your voice, he leaned in.

Everything around you seemed to still, the whispers of the shadows fading into the background as his lips met yours. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if he were waiting for some sign, some permission from you. His lips were cool but soft, and for a moment, it was as if time had stopped.

You were frozen, caught in the unexpectedness of it all, caught in the moment. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as his kiss deepened, a quiet desperation in every movement, every touch. He kissed you as if he couldn’t stop, as if he feared you might vanish if he let go.

For a moment, you gave in to the sensation, the overwhelming mix of emotions, the sweetness and the tension. You couldn’t pull away, not even if you wanted to. The shadows seemed to curl around you both, their presence now almost comforting, like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in that fragile moment.

His kisses grew more desperate, each one heavier, more consuming than the last. His hands pressed firmly against your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips, vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t move, caught entirely off guard by his fervor. No one had ever acted like this around you before—not before the Entity’s realm, not during. There was something almost intoxicating about the way he clung to you, his lips trailing from yours to your jaw, down to the curve of your neck.

And, to your surprise, you realized... you kind of liked it.

His voice came in soft, muffled murmurs against your skin. “I need you,” he groaned, his tone laced with an almost painful desperation. “I need to hold you, to keep you close. You’re mine—you’re meant for me.”

The words hit you like a wave, leaving you breathless. His arms wrapped around you tighter, his fingers gripping as though he feared you might vanish if he let go. The shadows around you seemed to move in tandem with his emotions, curling closer, darker, as if they were an extension of his longing.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’ve waited... I’ve searched... and then you came.” He pulled you so close it felt like he was trying to meld you both together, his forehead pressed against yours as he panted softly, his lips brushing yours again.

There was no denying the intensity in his words and the way his entire being seemed to focus solely on you. The world around you faded away, all of it becoming irrelevant under the weight of his need.

And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself lean into it, into him.

--

You didn’t know how it worked. Honestly, you didn’t question much about the things that happened in the Entity’s realm—trying to make sense of it always felt like a losing battle. But being the only person that the killer—Jake, as you had learned—could touch and hold? That made the trials with him… special.

Special in a way that involved him finding you almost immediately when the trial started, his shadowy tendrils guiding him to you as though you were a beacon. Special in the way he would pull you into his arms without hesitation, holding you so close it felt like he was trying to merge your existence with his. And then came the kisses—hungry, fervent, and relentless. He didn’t seem to care about the trial or the Entity’s expectations, not unless another survivor got too close to where you both were. That was the only time he would let go, stepping between you and anyone else like a jealous guard dog.

You had learned early on that he truly couldn’t touch the other survivors. You’d seen him try—his hand passing right through them as though he was nothing but air. It made you wonder, why? Why were you the exception?

The Entity gave the killers their abilities. It had given Jake control over the shadows, molded him into one with the darkness itself. The Entity had made Jake a shadow—a specter that could haunt but never truly connect.

So why you? Did the Entity truly bless Jake with you, as he claimed? Was this some kind of twisted reward or cruel joke? You didn’t know.

And, honestly, when Jake held you so close, his arms wrapped around you like you were his entire world, you didn’t want to think about it. His touch was warm, his attention was unwavering, his affection intense.

A handsome, desperate man who seemed to make it his life’s purpose to hold you, kiss you, and pour all his emotions into you wasn’t something you regularly stumbled across—especially not here. The way he acted like you were his lifeline, the only thing tethering him to existence, wasn’t something you’d ever experienced before. He made you feel wanted, needed, cherished—things you hadn’t felt in longer than you could remember. And maybe that was why you let him.

It felt pretty good, honestly.

Good to be wanted. Good to be someone’s lifeline.

--

You did figure out one thing, though... well, two things.

For one, you enjoyed the feeling of Jake’s arms around your waist. How they would drape over you, his hands firm yet gentle as they gripped your hips, holding you as though you were the only solid thing in his shadowy world. It was strange, feeling safe in the arms of someone who was meant to kill. Ironic, even. But that’s how it felt—safe.

The second thing you figured out was that you loved the feeling of Jake’s lips. It didn’t matter where they landed—your neck, your throat, your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. Each kiss sent a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. But the best? The best was when his lips met yours. Jake’s kisses weren’t just kisses. They were declarations. They were desperate, wanting, filled with the kind of need that made your head spin and your heart race.

Your favorite moments, though, were the times when it had been too long since you last saw him. When he’d finally appear, the shadows curling and shifting to reveal him, he would drop every pretense of being a killer. The mask would slip away, and there he was—clingy, needy, and entirely fixated on you.

“I missed you,” he’d murmur into your hair as he held you close. “I kept thinking about you. I can’t stand being away from you. I need you.”

He would rant softly, his words spilling out like a dam had broken. His voice would tremble, and he’d clutch you tighter, burying his face into your shoulder, his shadowy figure melting into something softer—something vulnerable.

In those moments, he didn’t feel like the Entity’s chosen killer. He felt like a lovesick puppy, desperate for your attention, your touch, your reassurance.

And it was cute. At least, you thought so.

a/n: i basically had peggy from ceechynaa on replay during this. reblogs and commentary are appreciated!

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[metranart]

“You… you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice sounded so close that your eyes flew open to find him crouching in front of you.

ft. Hawks centered, Hawks x reader, Slight! Bakugo x reader, Slight! Dabi x reader.

Hawks x UA Student! Reader (Part 4)

-

Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove wit you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut.

-

You could feel his hand insistently yanking you towards him. He was about to lose control again but kept fighting back. The hero didn’t want to choke you on his cock, but you were taking your sweet time and that made him a dangerous, and highly impatient, lover.

“—Don’t make me shove it down your throat, kid.”

He half begged, half demanded in a breathy voice, subtly smearing the reddened tip against your close lips, eyes shutting tight while he refrained himself from slap you across the face with it. He could clearly see the uncertainty in your young face, surely you had already blown someone, but not an adult, not a full-grown cock, wide and meaty, curved just a little for your greatest pleasure. Hawks was frighteningly large and thick for an inexperienced teenager.

His head fell back as he bit his lip, hard, taking several deep breaths, as if trying to suck it up like a pro instead of letting his rut have a smashing win. 

“Don’t be scared—” He pleaded. “Just-just… this will work…,” his hips thrusted, kneading his erection against the warm skin of your cheek, heavy balls kissing your lips at the suddenness of the motion. “Fuck—it hurts.”

Hawks was really making and effort to let you take the lead. Shutting your eyes for a moment, your mind went back to when you blew one of your classmates after a training session, both so excited that it was inevitable, he returned the favor a few days later, it was the first time someone eat you and it became your dirtiest little secret, then why, why was it taking you so much to open your mouth for Hawks.

“You… you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice sounded so close that your eyes flew open to find him crouching in front of you.

His pupils blown wide as he stared into your eyes, warm breath fanning your face. He even smelled nice- like mint and honey... and so devastatingly handsome, it hurt. 

You opened your mouth to apologize, but it was immediately covered by his lips. Ferocity was the trademark of this kiss, the blond bit, licked, sucked and ravaged your mouth like you’d never experienced before. Leaving you openly heaving. 

The soft, endearing look on his face, gently screamed to you that the man facing you wasn’t the hero anymore. 

“Mate.” Keigo branded you in a deep voice, inoffensively rubbing against you like a cat in heat, the kindness that dripped from his tone could have bring any woman to his knees, yet it only sent shivers down yours. “My, sweet elusive mate.”

“M-mate?” you repeated, swallowing the lump in your throat, due to the implications of the word. 

“Say it.” His blown pupils shone dangerously like sharp obsidian, and he waited with bated breath. 

“Mat—” 

“No.” Hawks cut you off, “say my name,” his stare so firmly set on you, it scared you. “Keigo...” he shared calmly, yet didn’t look it, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

The revelation cracked your serenity… did Hawks just blown his secret identity?? What the fuck?! According to Aizawa sensei, that kind of information was extremely sensitive, only shared with close family, a few privileged friends and… and mates for life.  

Fear contorted your features at the realization, this couldn’t be happening… how did your quirk twisted his mind so extremely? This was a nightmare, was the blowjob still an option, or—

“Don’t… please, please—… stop crying, I will take care of you…” You hadn’t even realized you were crying until he began to clean the tears with soft kisses, forehead pressing against yours to try to convince you. “I swear. I won't hurt you, you’ll be so, soooo precious to me, my wife—my mate!”

His lips trailed over your face, like sealing his promises against your skin… cheeks, jaw, forehead, eyelids, and even up your earlobes. Hawks scented you whole, you could hear his ragged breathing, loud and conflicted, almost animalistic. 

And that was when you felt it, his feathers wrapping around your wrists and ankles like shackles clinging to your skin.

“Hawks—Hawks, please…” you sniffled the words, “… I can still blow you—” 

The tips of his fingers prevented you from keep talking, and he only shook his head, standing up. 

Dammit! The only thing you had blown was your chance to walk out of there with your virginity intact. You were so screwed, all options closing in front of your eyes, watching him in horror, slip out of his jacket along with his shirt, discarded on the floor next your hope. 

“Take off your panties and shirt—” he indicated, cheeks blazing with heat, a few drops of sweat sliding down the side of his face and half-lidded eyes, panting like he was not getting enough oxygen into his lungs, “your bra too, I want to see your tits bouncing while I breed you—” instead of start stripping you sobbed, and he growled, knuckles white at how hard he was tightening his fists. 

“—You can keep the skirt…” he conceded, as if he were being remarkably gracious by allowing it. 

“You are a Pro Hero, you can´t—”

“MINE.” He growled lowly, crouching again, seizing you like a wild cat until you were against the wall, made you fall on your ass and then, in almost studied moves, straddled you over his wide thighs, knitting your legs at each side of his lap, sprawling you wide for him, your little fighting hands were no match for his strength and dexterity, every time you unplugged one of his hands away, the other replaced it, getting so close that it was impossible for you to see anything but him and once having you in the optimal position, held you there for a minute to admire you, mesmerizing you with his awfully sharp predatory gaze to distract you from his slippery hands ripping your panties away. It was only when you felt the cold air that you found your struggle again. “.... Knock it off already, kid...”

He sounded heartbreakingly conformist, as if he had given up trying to stop himself, as if he didn't care about your opinion on the matter, but you kept fighting, begging, sobbing.

"Hawks...you have-e to control your-yourself, don't give up...” you stuttered the words to the best of your ability, “I swear—I'm not going to tell anyone about this.”

The sardonic chuckle along with his head tilting to the side and his eyebrows rising incredulously to his hairline, almost made him look like the real victim in the situation. 

“First you force me into an early rut—and now you blame it on me?!” The disbelieve in his tone was palpable, he looked almost offended, and you looked away, embarrassed by the reality you had chosen to forget.

“Look at me, kid.” He demanded, but you refused to acknowledge him, pushing him to grip your chin and force you to face him, even if you tightened your eyes, the tears slipped out, but he was beyond that. All his mercy and patience eaten away by his roaring instinct, cornered between his hormonal brain and his unconcluded rut, you OWED him. 

He was done playing the wooing game, you had it coming, you had your chance to tame him, but you didn’t use it, now the outcome was far from being his fault, he just couldn’t care anymore, now he was hunting for sweet and fulfilling, release.  

“Open your fucking eyes...”

He didn’t scream, he didn’t even raise his voice, even so, the firmness of it, commanding and inflexible, edged you to obey.

“Stop FUCKING fighting me.” His grip grew tighter on your chin when your lips pouted, yet his eyes seemed void of tolerance, “If you could just behave yourself like the fucking hero you are aiming to be...” he pinched your UA uniform skirt to emphasize his point, “this would be so much better for you—for the both of US,” he let go, once felt had your entire attention, “......—but you just have to be a little brat, don’t cha?” he snarled the words, gaze narrowing while trying to countervail his elaborated breathing.

His hard stare was too heavy on you, too charged with feelings you couldn’t deal with. Guilt, anger, frustration, lust, resentment.... shame, all mixed and ready to burst, in the less than fulfilling, angry sex you were cooking for yourself. 

So, you strive to understand and listen to him, because actually, Hawks was right. You were aiming to be a hero, you had screwed thing up to this level, you needed to step up and behave accordingly. This blast of self-awareness driving you to finally speak.

“You´re right...” you squeaked out, raspy and weak, throat sour from crying. “...What-what do I have to—”

“Just stop fighting me.” Hawks cut you off, burdensomely. Didn’t seem touched or even proud of you taking on your responsibility, all he seemed was desperate and hungry for you to stop unlatching his hands off you. And you did, granting him a free pass to maneuver you at his liking.

“Good girl.” He hummed, less frustrated and without asking lifted your skirt up your thighs, “here we go,” leaning, planted a velvety kiss on your neck as your reward for behave, and without delay traced your cunt with his thumb, the sensation shook your core, making knots inside your tummy, driving a low whine from your throat while his thumb made itself at home over the bundle of nerves.

“Hawks—”

“Keigo.” He corrected, absentmindedly, “Takami Keigo—…. or love, baby, darling, sweetheart, mate… there’s a wide variety for you to choose…” he said, as if nothing wrong, as if his thumb weren’t keeping its steady pace on your clit. Driving you to the edge in demanding, circled motions, not too slow not too fast, he didn’t want to deal with overstimulation too soon in the race. The experienced Hero was aiming to make you slippery as possible for it not to hurt as much as it will.

But you weren't helping his self-control, how Keigo loved that you were like a broken songbird, stuttering a load of broken and unconcluded moans, without a doubt a clean slate, his little virgin, his to trash and soil to his liking. So, he grew confident enough to worm two long fingers inside your slit to aid his quest, bending them against your stomach found that spongey place inside every female that made her see stars, and without a single care, abused the spot until you were squirming and wailing under his masterful administration.

“You can do it, sweet one, c’mon.” He groaned, picking up the pace of his fingers, jabbing into that spot at an unholy speed. Fucked his carefulness not to drive you to the ugly side of overstimulation, he was losing it. You were HIS mate, you´ll need to learn how to please him. “It feels good.... like I promised baby, c’mon.” He was practically licking his lips in anticipation when you cried out, unable to stop yourself when your core tightened and you came, HARD—so fucking hard that you even squirted, for the first time ever, a long spurt of pleasure that washed all over his abdomen, shining his abs in your love juices.

“I´m so... so-sorry...” You heaved, totally out of breath and strength, feeling strangely exhausted, too ashamed to even look him in the eye. “I didn´t know—I have never....”

“I’ll bet.” Hawks said, smirking wildly, perverted pride marring his words. 

The eager Hero was about to lose it, overly agitated over your little squirting fount, you basically ticked all the requirements in his dream woman, you were definitely his person, and that thought excited him to no end. 

Keigo smeared his palm over his slick abdomen, and palmed his length, coating his stiff cock on your juices, pumped himself in long and lazy strokes, you couldn't see it thanks to your palms covering your face, but you had his utter and most committed admiration solely on you, he had decided it in that exact moment, no doubt about it in his mind... he was going to knock you up, and keep you for himself. 

“You on birth control?” He called, right as he started to align with your entrance, bulling your narrow slit with the head of his cock.

“N-no,” you choked out, drawing a boisterous chuckle out of him.

“Goody, goody.” He sing-sang, shit eating grin almost cracking his face in two. “I wanna be a daddy,” said, slipping a finger inside of you, then adding a second to seize how stretched you were. “It´ll have to do.” He muttered under his breath and pinching your clit to draw you out of your sheepishness, locked his gaze with yours while outstandingly slow, began to split you open.

You jolted at the sudden invasion, eyes popping open from shock alone. “W-wait...... let me-let me think it through.... I-I don´t.....AHHHHHH—” you choked out a high-pitched scream at the feeling of your little cunt being slowly breached, it hurts! It hurt so bad that you desperately tried to push him out, but he was massively stronger than you, and had a solid grip to work with. 

“Use your quirk to stop me....” he purred amused, resting both forearms in each side of your head against the wall, “—if you can, kid.” 

Demurely, kept going, burying himself deeper, stretching you so wide that it felt like an entire forearm was stuffing you, you trashed and clawed at his chest, shoulders and neck to no avail, until without warning he sheathed completely in one swift roll of his hips, dragging a deaf cry out of you. 

“That’s it~” he muttered too far gone into his own pleasure, you were so wet, preparing you first was more rewarding than he thought it´ll be, “Shit, fuck,” the winged hero held himself rooted deep inside you, heavy balls plush against your center, tears were falling freely now but it didn’t seem to faze him at all, “That’s it—dammit! That´s what I was fucking talking about.” You were vaguely aware of Hawks swearing like a prayer, doing the extra mile to stay very still for you to be able to accommodate around him. Panting heavily against your hair as you foolishly tried to wiggle away, only driving a low, pleasurable rumble from his broad chest.

“Oh, poor kid! that´s the best you can do, huh?” He almost sounded apologetic, edging in sarcastic but it didn’t stop him from leaning closer, you could feel a feather slice your bra, and you whimpered when one of his hands wrapped around your naked breast and squeezed.

“You have a good pair of tits on you, my little stutterer.” The Hero praised, and you felt overly violated. 

No! you didn't want to keep going, you were afraid, and he wasn’t even gentle. You felt him twitch inside you, the tip of his cock against your cervix just waiting for his owner to give the command, and you tried one last, pitiful time.

“Ple-please.... Hawks, please-e, let me …... let-let me go-o.....” You begged between broken sobs.

“You stutter so prettily — it fucking breaks my heart to have to do THIS.”

COMING SOON PART 5....

⭕️ In this PATREON LINK you will find NSFW art of this story and more spicy MHA NSFW art and exclusive smut fanfiction (also JJK, Demon slayer, and Tokyo Revengers) .... Plus more fascinating rewards, check it out and if you got some extra bucks around, join our community. My eternal and vast gratitude for your support!!!

[muletia]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[tfp] obsessed!ratchet x human!reader

summary: when his emotions turned overwhelming, ratchet tried to hate you instead, to protect both of you. despite his efforts, he cannot stop caring about you

cw: angst, obsessive thoughts, emotional manipulation, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness, ratchet is kinda toxic in this (but he gets better i promise)

word count: 1250

At first, he tried to hate you. To push you away, to make you despise him just as much as he tried to despise you. To turn passion into hatred, to move to the opposite end of the spectrum, yet still burn with the same fervor, the same intensity. Hatred was, after all, easier to manage than love—easier to understand, easier to explain, and easier to back up with facts. Love was an unknown, raising millions of questions he could never answer. Hatred hurt less. And although both passions were fierce in their own right, Ratchet could swear that the first one was far less damaging.

At first, he tried to be cold. Indifferent toward you, mean, and grumpy. He would throw comments at you that he could have easily kept behind his denta because he knew they would hit a nerve and wound you to some extent. He wanted you to leave him alone, to grow disillusioned with him. To stop interacting, to stop looking, to stop being a part of his daily life.

Another warm relationship was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Ratchet was tired. Tired of war, tired of being a medic, tired of patching up his friends only for them to return with fresh, bleeding wounds—or not return at all. Every mech and femme he grew close to either died or suffered, and he had to watch. Watch as the light faded from their optics, as energon poured from their wounds, as they lost limbs. You weren’t a Cybertronian, but would associating with him not weave a similar fate for you? One filled with pain and suffering? If the war didn’t harm you, his feelings surely would—what difference would it make? And your death was something he could not survive.

That’s why he wanted to prevent it. To break the vicious cycle, to stop the machinery of torment. To give himself no hope of a happy ending because he knew it was never meant for him. He couldn’t afford to think of himself. Ratchet was harsh, unfeeling. He made sure that every word he said struck like an icicle, that it hurt. Yet he wasn’t sure who was suffering more. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain, but in this situation, he saw no other way. In a sense, he was saving you from catastrophe, from a collision that would destroy you both. He preferred to deliver the blow when his feelings were just budding, before his infatuation grew into something unmanageable. At least then, you’d both have a chance to recover.

But he found himself checking on you. Ensuring you were all right, even though he had just done so moments ago. He found himself having needs that terrified him because he was never supposed to feel them. Even with a carefully laid plan, with his rigidly set values, Ratchet’s thoughts circled taboo. He contemplated touch, intimacy. Happiness that wasn’t meant for him.

He often wondered if you understood why he had to be the way he was; what kind of clay the war had molded him from. If he explained the details, would you grasp his intentions? Understand that he couldn’t afford the luxury of love? He only hoped you didn’t think it was your fault, that you had made some mistake, even though he gave you no reason to think otherwise. And that hurt more than any sharp remark he ever hurled your way.

It was a pity that by the time he acted, it was already too late. You had cast your spell, enchanted him and his processor. You haunted him during the day, in dreams, when you visited your alien friends, and when you were at home. You appeared in his thoughts when he least expected it, yet when he needed it most. At first, sporadically—when you hadn’t visited them for a while, when he began to miss the sound of your chatter near his workstation. When the lack of your presence started to bother him. Then, you appeared more frequently, and fleeting memories turned into fantasies and daydreams. He stopped thinking he’d like you to sit with him and started longing. Intensely, fervently.

Still, he believed his plan would work. That he could end the relationship he had nurtured for so many months. But you had entirely different plans. Consciously or not, you dismantled the calculated, artificial hatred, tearing down the walls he had begun to build around himself.

The first time you touched him to draw his attention, Ratchet was convinced his knees would buckle under his weight. Suddenly, new colors entered his field of vision, and where you touched him, an explosion of sparks erupted, an electricity incomparable to merely being in your presence. The touch was more vivid. Raw and intimate, and so incredibly powerful that it broke him. It pierced through his defenses, reached so deep that Ratchet abandoned his plan. He stopped trying to change your relationship at an unnatural pace and in a dishonest way. Oh, what a fool he had been, what a burden to both you and himself.

Mending the fractured relationship didn’t happen quickly, nor was it easy, but it gave him time to loosen the collar and allow himself to enjoy your company. Your presence brought comfort and peace. Even when you disagreed, when arguments grew heated, Ratchet clung to those shared moments. He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world and would fight to keep them going. He grew jealous when you claimed you wouldn’t speak to him again, though he knew it wasn’t true. He knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into his servos whenever you started talking to someone else. He wasn’t proud, but seeing you in your rightful place, close to him, made everything feel right again. Everything returned to normal.

“I owe you my sincerest apologies,” he once said to Optimus, choosing a day when the base was nearly empty, save for him, his friend, and the two humans who had changed their lives. Whether for better or worse was yet to be determined.

“You have done nothing that could cause me harm,” Optimus replied.

“But I did not understand,” he said. “That has changed somewhat recently.”

The medic’s gaze anchored on you, dispelling any doubt in the leader’s mind. Optimus began to pity his friend.

“Will it ever improve? Will this torment ever bear anything good?” Ratchet asked.

Optimus fell silent for a moment. “I am unable to provide an answer to that. However, I am certain that surrender is not the correct course of action, and you must not pursue it, for it would destroy the benevolence you have labored so long to cultivate. [Name] holds you in great regard; I would urge you to keep this in mind.”

For Ratchet, it was already too late for retreat, though he had lost the battle with himself. You had entwined yourself too deeply in his spark, taken a permanent place in his processor. He failed to keep his feelings in check, and they took over, spreading everywhere.

He started with hatred, using it as a familiar form of self-defense. Now, when you come to him with the tiniest scratch on your finger, Ratchet is ready to wage a war for you, blinded by his feelings. Ready to protect you at all costs, dedicating every free moment solely to you. He was finished, undone, but the fact that his demise would likely come through you no longer mattered to him.

[occultwaters]

Painful placements in astrology I

💜 Sun square/conjunct/opposite/inconjunct (quincunx) Pluto. Inconjunctions should be maximum 2/3 degrees. If I see this in a natal chart it would indicate to me that the native has had issues with their father or figures with authority in general. Could also be men in their family. I have also noticed the fathers side of the family were absent, early on they could have been separated. The separation could be due to many threats. If not cultivated well, this aspect is common amongst serial killers and people notorious for being bullies.

💙 Moon square/conjunct/opposite/inconjunct (quincunx) Pluto. Inconjunctions should be maximum 2/3 degrees. Now this would indicate a person who has issues with the mother figure in their family. This could also indicate issues with the women figures in their life. These people are also very distant with their mother’s side of the family. Like harsh Pluto and Sun, they were separated early on. Which again potentially could’ve been due to threats to their safety in general. If not cultivated well, this can lead to mental health issues, especially those relating to Pluto. Dark obsessions and desires etc.

💜 Having square placements to personal planets, this alone is very hard to deal with as there is strong friction no matter which side you look at. These people need to work on the aspect and appropriately release the energy, depending on the house, sign, and degree.

💙 Pluto in 12th. These individuals harbour a lot of their trauma in the subconscious. They have probably also seen some crazy things in the spirit world. It’s like they attract that sort of attention without really meaning to aswell. These individuals may also have very disturbing dreams and sleep paralysis.

💜 Saturn/Uranus/Chiron in 11th. This is a constant cycle of feeling alienated from society. These people may feel like they never found their group of friends. They crave for a home they’ve never had. These are also the type of people who have had friends make secret group chats behind their back and never include them. Just because Uranus is at home here, doesn’t make it any easier. This is also true if these placements are in Aquarius.

💙 Harsh Venus and Saturn aspect (square, opposition, inconjunction). Or Venus in Capricorn/aquarius. These people were made to feel unworthy of love and care when they were younger. There’s a constant battle between loving oneself and self destructive behaviours. There is an imbalance with their feminine side, due to masculine/ figures of authority, making them feel like they weren’t good enough.

💜 Harsh Moon and Venus aspects (square, opposition, inconjunction). Again made to feel like they weren’t pretty enough and probably dealt with a lot of toxicity from maternal figures. There is also an imbalance with their feminine side due to issues with women, and maternal figures. These people also a lot of the times refuse to acknowledge their emotions and bottle things up a lot.

💙 Having inconjunctions/quincunx aspects. They need to be at a maximum 2/3 degree orb. This is similar to opposition. But the difference here is that two signs that have no similarity are making a harsh aspect. There’s bound to be heat and constant internal conflict. This one is about learning to balance the scale of energies from both areas.

💜 8th house placements. These people are constantly undergoing transformations in their life. They can easily leave everyone on delivered for months and when they return, they are no longer the same person. Then the cycle repeats. There’s a lot of trauma in these people’s lives, and a lot of it comes from family. But they’re also naturally talented when it comes to things like the occult. This aspect is powerful for astrologers as it gives the native the talent to deeply study and observe people for long periods of time. This also includes psychology.

💙 Saturn opposite/square/inconjunct Pluto. Again inconjunctions should be maximum 2/3 degrees to be truly felt. This is more of a generational aspect (may reflect the society more so). These individuals dad could carry some sort of deep trauma. This is a pretty heavy energy so will require a lot of work for the generation that has this. In addition, the themes of the abuse they dealt with surround feeling restricted from expressing oneself in regards to what Pluto represents. They seem like the sheep or the scape goat of the family. Also if they have siblings that don’t have a similar aspect, if they make a mistake, the punishment they receive can be harsher than if their sibling was to make the same mistake. Their dad/ authority figures in their family can also be/ may have been involved in the dark side of structured systems and have a lot of experience and knowledge regarding the world from that.

© 2024 occultwaters. All rights reserved.

💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙

[clitorphosis]

PINK CELLPHONE

Incel Leon S. Kennedy x OnlyFans reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, INCEST, smut, female reader, reader is a little bit mean, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, teasing, Leon is submissive, nipple play, tits sucking.

notes: uhm, i didnt proofread this so... i want to remind you that english isnt my first language :3 also i imagined re2 og Leon, but whatever! also reblogs and any kind of feedback is really appreciated

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

There was something fundamentally wrong with Leon in female’s gaze.

Maybe he is unlucky or those girls are blind. Really hoping it is the latter, cause it is not flattering when guys with migrated hairline can get cute girls, while he can’t. And 4chan doesn’t help either, those advices aren’t useful when he can’t even talk to a real girl.

Yes, they are blind. He is going to set on that.

So after many years of solitude, his only company has become the blue gleam which most night was the only source of light in the room, while air was full with low noises coming from the old, poor laptop. Trying to survive after years of not being turned off correctly. Multiple tabs on his laptop’s screen, he doesn’t bother to close them anymore, hoarding them like some kind of treasure - Leon doesn’t give a shit anymore.

This century is perfect for a man like Leon, internet may be the second Library of Alexandria. A real paradise, so much colorful and vibrant sites with cute girls showing their bodies if he pays for that content.

Thank god Onlyfans exists. And he is a nice guy, supporting cute and sexy girls.

Paying for limited content can be considered as supporting women, right? Even if he was motivated due to his selfish reasons - to get attention and limited content. Something special for him. It was embarrassing how long he could browse a fair share of accounts and get or even interact with some girls without being rejected and they would not know him. There are a lot of them, all cute and nice, and they acted even better when he tipped them, so they would interact more with him, calling him a ‘pretty boy’. At least it made him feel special for a while. Still, not his fault that their, too perfect, videos or photos led him to lose his interest - their content felt lifeless, without passion or love put in it. Boring. It has become a routine already, finding an account - jerking off until he loses his interest and the cycle returns to browsing the site for someone new to obsess over.

Your account was like a treasure when he found it. Leon got attracted to it like a magnet, comparable to find a needle in the haystack. Sweet thing, really sweet, if he was ever to interact with you he wouldn’t be able to hide his grimace. But that was attracting, he doesn’t know how much money he has spent on your content. Your face was always hidden or cut out by the position of your camera, but there was no need to see your face when people paid to jerk off.

It was nice while it lasted.

Pink cellphone. The little pink cellphone he got his sister, after she nagged him about wanting it, that ended up left alone and not used. You have this pink cellphone, the furniture and a lot of things were identical to his little sister’s room; posters of her favorite bands or that specific blanket she had all her life, but this was quickly brushed off at first, almost all girls like cute stuff and this could be a coincidence. Also that not the first thing a guy notices when he is ready to jerk off. Leon isn’t sure why after seeing that pink cellphone it clicked so quickly, the guilt and shame fill him to the brim, coiling around his neck like a loose invisible tie knot.

This is wrong, wrong like touching his sister’s breast. Your breast. Instead, he was jerking off to your boobs for months. Imagining how they would fill his palms nicely.

The room is the same as before, but now it hits different to be here after discovering what you have been doing here all this time. It has the same smell as always, sweet and too much like you, tightening the invisible knot around his neck. He wants to throw himself out of the window, this is sick and he doesn’t understand why his legs brought him here after work, still wearing his uniform. There are plenty of almost empty and few full bottles of perfume he had bought you during one of shopping trips, while you were nagging him and begging for them. He eyes such little and useless items that in any other situations he wouldn’t notice, avoiding to look at you. His efforts were useless, he is a weak man after all and there is nothing to do other than to stare at your frame; sitting on the bed, confused at his behavior and expecting something - a reason to explain why he is acting like that, staring at you, almost fucking you with his eyes. He doesn’t need Freud to tell him that he wants to fuck his own sister. Were you preparing to do new content for your followers? The thought made his pants tighter, wanting to pull at the fabric to ease it but this would only bring your attention, wouldn’t it? Maybe he wants it.

“You look like shit.”

“Excuse me?” Did he hear that right?

“You look like shit, Leon” you repeat before raising an eyebrow “stop staring, you are going to dig holes into my face. What do you want?”

What a bitch, he would say, but,

“Uhm…” is the only sound he was able to let out, getting closer to your bed and sitting down on the edge. You scoot closer to him as you always do. A sweet habit he always liked, sometimes you even hug him. “Not lady-like, sweetheart. I wanted to talk”

You roll your eyes. “About what?”

“A friend of mine, he sent me a link of a girl, doing porn” his lies flow so fast and easily from his mouth, trying to shift this to someone non existent. “Her face isn’t visible but… her room and she had a pink cellphone, identical to yours… so I was wondering—“

“Maybe you are imagining things. Many girls have similar room to mine” you cut him, your hand lays on his shoulder. Perhaps this is hell, hell would feel like you mock him by pretending that account isn’t you, like those moans he heard weren’t yours while a guy or a dildo was pleasing you, making Leon envious and sour - why not him? The corners of your lips tug up, something good got into your head. “So you are paying for that stuff, huh? Jerking off to a girl similar to your little sister, you are so weird”

“Huh? No, I am not” Yes, he is, that’s actually his favorite hobby.

“Cut the crap, Leon. There is no friend. You probably imagined me, yeah?” He did, he won’t deny this - it would be a lie leading to another rejection, this time by his sister - and he is man, a desperate one. Also poker has never been his strong point nor he can lie well with his hard on. “Nasty, nasty boy”

His blue eyes linger on your mouth as you spoke, watching your tongue rolled sensually and slowly. Your tongue clicks, before applying more pressure on his shoulder with your hand, pushing him down. He is like a rag doll under your touch - his back hits the softness of your bed and now all he can see is your face looking down at Leon before finally sliding on his lap. Your legs straddle his hips, so nicely pressing down on his crotch and making this much harder than it should be. His cock is already painfully hard, straining against the warmth of your pussy which can be felt through thin fabric of your shorts. God bless them. He bucks up his hips, as his hands reach to hold your hips and press them harder against his aching cock while he tries to dryhump you needy - too bad that’s not on your list, slapping away his hands like it is a disturbance which makes him frown.

“Ah-ah, big bro. Don’t touch me” you purr as your head dips lower to press hot heated kiss on the skin of his neck, leaving soft bites and wet trail behind whilst your tongue traces around those bites, like a soothing touch before it starts going up down and up in torturous motions. Until you stop on his Adam’s apple to bite it softly to leave a red spot, your hands dive under his shirt, pushing it up to expose his stomach and making it easier to reach his chest - fingertips brush against his nipples, before rolling and pinch them to force more moans from him. A grown man getting already painfully hot and bothered over little touches and kisses there and then, this causes you to chuckle under your breath - don’t want to hear him complain how you hurt his ego. Man’s ego is more fragile than soap bubbles or the glass, one poke and he would not shut up and fuck your brain instead of your pussy. That won’t do. Your eyes dart up to look into his face - to see that sweet and needy expression, begging more than just teasing caresses from you. Your hips sit so well against his, sometimes creating some friction when one of you move and it feels like he is going to die if his dick won’t be buried in your pussy any time soon.

“I don’t like dirty hands on me” you add eventually with the same purring voice. What can be better than a man being submissive and shattering over nothing?

“Can you just… oh shit!” his sentence gets cut abruptly, when your lips reach to his earlobe, nibbling playfully and it would be really humiliating if he cum here cause of how his ears are sensible. Deep inhale, before speaking again, trying to keep himself at check and not to be so meek while you keep rolling his sensitive nipples in between your fingers. His next words are breathless and voice is shaky, almost at the edge to sound pathetically. Not really manly, but still your clit throbs, only now noticing how your panties are soaked now, uncomfortably clinging to your pussy lips. “…fuck me?”

You stop your assault over the skin of his neck to look down at him better, your hips press against his hard dick forcing a breathless whimper to escape. This little plea, he begs. Your clit throbs again, so uncomfortably wet, you want to dryhump him until he cum in his jeans like a virgin. Instead, he is one. If he was any other men you wouldn’t consider this good enough to comply but the sight in front of you is too much to ignore.

“Fuck.. you?” You echo his words, feigning a confusion, your eyes widen to emphasize the act. A cheap one, cause your hand already tugged down your shorts, leaving you in panties, he has seen them so many time on those videos and photos, his hips buck to press himself to your, still, clothed pussy. His attempt isn’t really successful, your hand unzips his jeans to free his cock. And finally to look at it. “you are so weird… I dunno, to ask that from me, don’t you have any shame in this body of yours, huh?”

“I don’t give a shit, just fuck me” he groans, looking down as you palm his cock, it twitches in your hand, already leaking with pre-cum and you can even notice a little stain on his boxers.

A light urge to roll your eyes arises deep down when you looked down, but it was quickly put down. Rather disappointing as a size, if someone would have asked you, but not everyone can have porno dick or customized one. You can still fuck with that. Leon swallows hard, taking a deep breath in again as he looked at you briefly - your tits are more interesting right now. He hopes you let him to suck on them. His fingers twitch, wanting to reach for your panties and tug to the side, to fuck you, but he is a gentleman. A nice guy.

Your hand pumps his dick, smearing his pre-cum along the flesh before tugging your panties to the side, your glistening pussy is fully exposed to his gaze and Leon almost choked on his saliva when you pressed your slick cunt on his cock. It is a torturous game, feeling you rub slowly along his aching length leading to drip more of pre-cum. You are so wet and warm, your slick coats his dick with every stroke of your pussy against it. This makes his eyes widen briefly at the sensation, he isn’t sure if he would be able to last long inside you. If it ever gets to that, of course.

“Please..?” Leon groans, bucking his hips to get more and press himself tighter for more friction than it is even possible right now. His sounds only encourage you to mess with him.

“What? I don’t understand” you taunt him with a light pout, another long and slow stroke, his cock’s tip was so close to slide into you. “Use your big-big words, Leon”

Your pussy kept grinding, enjoying the way his cock head bumps against your clit and making you wetter, forcing some noises from you too. Your fingers tug on his lower lip playfully - just to tease and annoy him. But he doesn’t let you withdraw your hand by grabbing hold of it. His lips catch your finger, sucking and nipping on it.

“Use me… please” like one of yours sex toys, Leon wanted to add, but, alas his dignity was still in tact, holding barely together by the tiniest thread. And as much as you want him to cum without even a penetration, to embarrass him, your own selfish urge to fuck him is much stronger.

“What a pretty face you have, right, big bro?” Also it is hard to ignore such sight in front of you, with blushed cheeks, his chest raises heavily as he let out breathless groans. “Pretty and pathetic, you would be a perfect sex doll”

Your wet slit kept rubbing, but this time savoring with the last stroke, before finally hovering over his cock - feeling his leaky tip nudging against your slick hole, begging to sink down, before his cock finally slides into you. He watched how your pussy swallowed his cock slowly inch by inch, before Leon thrusts up to meet your downward movement, forcing yours to slam against his, quickly burying himself as deep as he can right now. You moan at the rough motion, now ignoring how his hands reach to grip tightly your waist, not really caring anymore and now nothing stops him by touching you. Your slick inner walls wrap around his cock nicely, tightly clenching and he doesn’t think twice before bucking his hips again as yours started to roll against his - driving him deeper into your soaked hole. His dick hits the g-spot so sweetly, making you gasp and moan with him. His teeth catch the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it down and expose your boobs to him - and you are nice enough to help him by pulling it aside, a clear permission to bury his face in between them. Sloppily kissing and biting on the flesh of your tits, while you are bouncing on his dick. His lips repeat your name as a prayer, catching a hard nipple into his mouth, his tongue brushes and rolls against the sensitive nub - sucking at it, nibbling messily and leaving wet marks before darting to give attention to another nipple, causing your pussy to flutter around his dick more, tightly engulfing deeper into the slick walls as the wet sounds mix with the skin slapping ones every time your hips meet after every deep and quick stroke that his cock drag against your walls.

“I-I want to fill you with my cum, please”his voice is breathless at the edge of whine even though he tries his best to not appear so desperate, but the plea behind his words is clear. His grip gets tighter, his fingers knead your ass as he grinds his dick against your cervix to intensify the pleasure for himself while his pelvis rubs against your clit as a nice touch. He really hopes you wouldn’t try to be a bitch and let him cum, if not then he is probably going to cry. “Please, please, let me cum… I need this, sis”

“You sound so fucking ridiculous” your voice is breathless too, but seeing him so needy and desperate for his release making this even better. Your hand tugs his hair, pulling away from your tits to look at his face even better - his lips are glistening with his own saliva and parted. Your clit throbs even more, aching for attention, velvety walls clench around him when you reach down to press your fingers on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “Come on, fill your little sister if you need this so much”

He whimpers disappointedly when he was pulled away from your sensitive and abused tits, but it was quickly changed into a moan when your pussy to wrap him tighter after adding your fingers in action. Your hips roll harder to meet his thrusts and wanting to see more of his stupid faces. Leon grinds up against sweet spot at every opportunity and every time it gets messier and messier as his balls tightens. His eyes slide shut briefly, now wetly meeting yours and looking more pathetic. What a freak, not like you are better than him.

Your orgasm approaches quickly as you kept rubbing your clit in rough circle motions, making your walls wrap harder around his cock. You arch as the flowing pleasure hits your body hard, having harder time to use your fingers to prolong your orgasm. Your pussy flutters at every erratic and messy thrust he kept making as he chase his own orgasm. It didn’t last long for him either, already a wonder he didn’t cum after sliding into you.

“Fuck- fuck” he slammed in to the hilt one final time, burying it deep and rubbing against your cervix before finally erupting deep inside you. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides in white, as your dripping cunt was milking his cock. Your body fell down against his chest, breathing heavily together and shivering.

“You stink like a wet dog, get out” you complain weakly, trying to push yourself away from him but it is effortless - he buries his head in the crook of your neck, again. His soft cock is still inside you, he won’t let you go. “and unsubscribe from my OnlyFans, creep”

“Later” Leon mumbles absently.

No, he is not even going to unsubscribe. In another life.

[nmakii]

How about yandere! Alastor (human) with a reader who ran away from him... Reader and Alastor are married out of obligation (because of the decade), but what no one counted on was that Alastor really fell in love and was obsessed with his wife, but the reader didn't ...because of work and his secret (that he killed people and devoured them) Alastor hardly spent time with the reader.. Reader then began to fall in love and have a secret relationship, without Alastor knowing.. . So even though reader didn't want to hurt Alastor, since she saw him as a friend (more than her husband), reader ran away with her lover and passion... Leaving behind a very angry Alastor... (reader doesn't know what Alastor It's true)... What would happen?

NO ONE’S BETTER THAN I AM

— the feeling of a fresh love— oh, how wonderful. you only wished that man would have been alastor, just so that he wouldn’t have hunt your true love.

— hey pals 🔥🔥!! i took manipulation tactics from my social studies class and mother gothel, did i do well? HAHAHA :]

being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. you grew to be quite a local celebrity, many women even attempting to befriend you to get closer with your husband.

although, because of your marriage, many assumed you were a woman of many talents and high intelligence. but, unfortunately… it appears as if you have the perfect life; beautiful home, wonderful husband, a comfortable life— and, while most of it is true, it is still very far from the truth. the sad truth of it all was that this was a marriage of convenience

it was the only thing that made sense. you and alastor were close in age, you were both still single, you refused to marry a man as old as your father, alastor simply wished to rid himself of the many women throwing themselves at him, and you were already quite close to him since your parents were close, it was the best-case scenario.

when both of your parents had learned of the news, that alastor proposed to you, they were more than delighted. alastor’s mom immediately welcomed you into the family as one of her own, and alastor had grown to be fond of your father.

in front of cameras and watching eyes, alastor played the role of a loving husband well; keeping you safe with an arm wrapped around your waist, giving you his coat in cold weather, and speaking nothing but lovely worship in your name.

you played the ‘doting wife’ role surprisingly well too. the only thing that was different was alastor didn’t stop the act when you were behind closed doors.

‘what if someone is spying on us, hm? they may reveal our little secret to the media!’ that was his excuse. and your reason to let him kiss you, hold you against his chest, and even join you as you bathe occasionally. it always felt weird though. to you, alastor was nothing more than a friend, even something like a brother. doing all these intimate and romantic things with him, it felt wrong.

and even despite all the intimacy, you still felt lonely. here in your large house, you felt lonely; cooking a dinner for two, eating as one, and always having to leave the pot simmering over the stove, so that it’s still warm for your husband. warm for him up until midnight, when he’d usually come home— sometimes even returning home later…

and, on these late nights, you’d remain sleepless. what could he be doing? his radio broadcast only lasts up until 9 in the night. could he possibly be engaging with a mistress of sorts? doing all kinds of scandalous things before returning to your bed, bringing your back close to his chest and resting his face on the nape of your neck.

although it was unlikely… considering how you always wake up to a love letter from alastor in place of where he should be in your bed, but nonetheless, it didn’t stop those thoughts.

eventually, life began to grow boring… chores day and night before going to sleep again— it was just a boring cycle that filled your life with despair and simply just making you miserable.

that is, until you met eugene. quite the handsome man, he may even be a model! you ran into him when he was in a luxury shop, inspecting various items for purchase.

his fuzzy eyebrows, his big brown eyes, and his charming and gorgeous american smile— it’s hard not to fall for such a man.

it started off so innocent; just meeting him to shop together, then it escalated into lunch together, and then that night…

alastor brought you to a club he frequented, and just by coincidence, eugene had been there with some of his high school friends. under the influence of alcohol, alastor had climbed up the stage and danced along. laughing at your silly husband, you pointed him out to eugene as well.

and, in that moment he turned you around and kissed you. you tensed, fearing the sudden infidelity; how media would cover this kind of news for months. oh wait… everyone’s wasted, aren’t they..?

your breath heaved in fear, eyes darting to your husband, not even glancing at you— that was when you melted into his kiss.

after that night, the two of you had made an agreement to rendezvous every now and then at your house while alastor was still busy as ever at ‘work’.

and as these meetings with eugene became more and more frequent, the two of you may have… fallen in love. despite that, you still felt guilty; cheating on your husband who has done nothing but be a gentle and loving provider, how could you repay him like this?

but, then again, it is simply a marriage of convenience… alastor doesn’t love you, he couldn’t possibly… the two of you are best friends! so, if you told him, would he mind?

still, you couldn’t possibly risk it. this isn’t a relationship that will last long if the two of you keep it a secret, you have to find a solution soon.

“run away with me.”

“what?! are you insane?!?” you frowned at your lover. “you need to get away from him, and you’re too scared to tell him, aren’t you? it’s the perfect solution.” he argued back.

“alastor… won’t accept it that easily… he’ll probably try to hunt us down, then take me back…” your nose scrunched in fear at the thought. “isn’t it worth the risk, my love?” he took your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on your fingers. “ah, f…fine…”

a week later, that was when you decided to leave. you packed a suitcase filled with your belongings. honestly, it was not much. most of the things in the house were bought by alastor before he had married you.

you were just about to leave, your lover right outside the door with a getaway car, prepared to leave your life in new orleans behind when your husbands voice stopped you.

“going somewhere, my love?”

“alastor! w-what are you doing up?” you jumped, turning around to face him. “i’d like to ask the same thing, my sweet darling. why do you have a suitcase and a car waiting for you?” he grinned wide, tilting his head.

“ah— i was gonna go out of state for a surprise for you…” you lied, breath shaky. “were you now? was this surprise that i’d never see my beautiful wife ever again?” he scoffed, walking over to you and grabbing you by your chin.

“did you think i’d really be so ignorant as to not know when my own wife is sneaking out? especially to meet other men…” he raised an eyebrow. “alastor! t-this isn’t what you think it is…” you frowned, tears building up in your eyes.

“oh, my dear, how pretty you look when you cry…” he smiled, taking a finger to wipe your tears and putting his finger against his tongue. “fine then, leave your loving and sweet husband behind… just know that— i’ve already corrupted you for any other man to enjoy. no one will love a divorcee, will they?” he moved his hand to cup your cheek, gentle despite his harsh words.

“i’ll let you have your fun, darling. soon enough, you’ll realize that there is no man who can love you better than i can.” he pulled his hand away from you, moving to your hips and leaving a lasting kiss on your lips.

unlike how he usually is, this kiss was harsh, possessive, and brutal. so devoid of any love, it was a pure, unadulterated obsession.

“i know what is best for you, darling. i’ll see you home very soon.”

[cozymoko]

So what I was thinking was that yuu has been in the manor for awhile, she always sees a locked door that she just can help but be curious about. Whenever she asks about it they tell her to bind her business, one the door was unlocked somehow (maybe someone forgot to lock it again after visiting idk) and she goes in to look and she finds us! The only sister of the Sakamaki family! (If it could be platonic Yandere that would be great) and you can go on from there bc idk what to add or the reactions of everyone would be 🥲 also sorry if this still isn’t any help I’m not sure if this is still confusing

THE SECRET SAKAMAKI

Note: I completely understand, no worries!

PART TWO: here!

Synopsis: Yui finally meets the only sister of the Sakamaki family who has been hidden away by her brothers.

Pairing: Yandere! Sakamaki brothers x platonic! sister reader

Format: Scenario

Word Count: 1.6k

WARNING(S): slight platonic yandere themes.

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

Please proceed below the cut.

Only a few weeks had passed since Yui Kamori’s arrival, and she truthfully wanted nothing more than to return home. Where she didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. Her skin ached, practically screaming for salvation after undergoing endless amounts of “punishments'' for even the smallest of actions.

But today, no one was here. At least not at the moment, leaving her to relax until her heart’s content. With that said, the young human teen decided to treat herself to a walk, around the manor of course. After all, she had yet to see even half of the wonders (horrors) that were the Sakamaki household and she was more than just curious. 

Door after door: open, close; open, close. It was a never-ending cycle of boredom and disappointment. She had almost given up, concluding that there was truly nothing extraordinary happening behind closed doors. But that was before she saw it. Yui stumbled upon an unfamiliar door with a unique gold plaque just inches above it, serving as its most noticeable dissimilarity from the others.

The door was nothing special. It was wooden with gleaming gold imprinting smoothed between every crevice. But it stood out nonetheless. Yui slowly dragged her eyes along its surface, taking in its somewhat feminine appearance. Above it rested a large golden panel, inhabited by intricate calligraphy neatly engraved into its exterior; reading “Our treasure: [Name]”

Yui reached out, allowing her fingertips to subtly graze the cool doorknob, mere moments away from twisting it open… 

“You know, it's really impolite to go snooping around someone else’s home, little bitch~!” The sound of Laito’s voice nearly made her jump out of her skin. His tone was light but lacked the playfulness it tried so desperately to convey. “Allow me to escort you back to your room, fufu~.” 

Reluctantly, she followed, allowing the vampire to steer her further and further from the mysterious door; then down the hall, and back to her room. Her newfound curiosity outweighed her feeling of fear, despite Laito’s troublesome grip on her arm.

And she couldn’t help but wonder…

Just what was behind that door? Who is [Name]?

So the next day she tried her luck once more. Swiftly abandoning the security of her room, Yui proceeded down the dimly lit hallway. With the door close in sight, she noticed hushed whispers growing more audible by the second. Lo and behold, it was Kanato. 

His pale cheek pressed flush against the door's wooden frame, sweet yet borderline obsessive affirmations spilling from his thin lips. Yui assumed he was talking to himself, as far-fetched as it seemed. Though she wouldn't put it past Kanato of all people.

That's when she heard it. The faintest voice reached her ears, it was feminine and loving; and very clearly a blessing to Kanato's ears. She was sure he was ready to squeal with joy if not for the very slim amount of dignity he retained. Never had she seen him happier. 

A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips and before she knew it she was staring fondly at the scene. It wasn't every day she saw those sadistic men act so sweet and vulnerable, even if it was a little odd. Her dazed state didn't go unnoticed, unfortunately, as lilac hues met her soft rosy ones. 

“You—?!” The vampire practically screeched, trudging down the hallway towards the human girl. “Just how much did you hear?”

Let's just say she was left with more than just a few bruises, poor girl. 

The next day Yui ventured down that same vacant hallway. The old floorboards threatened to groan under her weight as she approached that same door that haunted her dreams.

“Haah…You really are a troublesome woman,” Yui jumped, startled. At her side lies a familiar champagne-haired man, tired and less than amused by her appearance. “This room is off-limits for brides. Even so, I've never met one as nosey as you. Leave while you can.”

The girl was stunned, shaking like a leaf. When did Shu get here? Why was he here? Her suspicions were creeping up on her like an unruly wave threatening to sweep her under any moment. At that moment she had finally realized, It wasn't just a door. 

I think.

But of course, curiosity killed the cat. 

Having grown tired of being caught, tied up, and punished time and time again Yui tried a distant approach; she had no choice. Her fair skin had grown battered and bruised, adorned by more lacerations and pricks than she could count. So as one does, she took her chances and decided to confide in Reiji. 

Entering his room, Yui politely took a seat across from the man at a polished deep oak wood table. Accompanied by freshly brewed tea set evenly between the two. “Reiji,” Yui commenced, though her words came as an airy puff as her nerves threatened to tear through her light bravery. “I…I've been curious about something as of lately. A door in particular,”

His red eyes narrowed significantly, “Go on.”

“All the guys have been acting kind of strange lately every time I get close to it and—”

A firm hand made contact with her chest, successfully knocking the wind right out of her, slamming her into the harsh cushioning that lined the leather sofa. “Enough; That is none of your concern, you are merely a living blood bag,” He sighed, sending her a menacing glare. “Don't allow your curiosity to push you to do unnecessary things. If you disrupt the peace of those I hold dear to me I shall punish you personally, do you understand?”

The mortal nodded and swallowed sharply, briskly maneuvering from the vampires prying gaze. And much to her surprise, he allowed it. Yui rushed to the door before slipping through its slight opening, down the hall, and then back to her room once more.

Someone Reiji cared for was behind that door, and from the looks of it, there was no way it was one of his brothers. So who? 

No matter, at that point, Yui had given up. She was scared shitless, not wanting to undergo any more torture than she already was. She had a sneaking suspicion that the brothers were slowly losing their patience with her and she didn't want to be there to experience the consequences. 

So the next few days were carried out like any other. Today she was spending her time with a certain redhead, mindlessly listening to his narcissistic rambles.  As they turned down a familiar hallway, she glanced to the man at her side. Ayato walked past the door without a care in the world and made her start to second guess herself.

Perhaps her gaze lingered on the door for a second too long, for a certain redhead had noticed her delayed footsteps. “Oi, pancake what the hell are yo-?” He paused, his face growing visibly sour as he followed her eyes. “...Looking at.”

He scoffed, gripping tightly onto her frail wrist. From the looks of it, he was not pleased. 

“The last thing I need is for more competition, those five assholes are more than enough.” 

His hushed grumbles were like sirens to Yui's ears, igniting the dying flame of determination in her chest. That was all she needed to hear as nothing from that point on could prove her suspicions false. There was definitely someone behind that door. 

However, it seemed her luck had already run out. 

Until one fateful day at least. 

A sliver in the door, so small it was almost unnoticeable. Feeling some sense of urgency the girl jumped to her feet, making a straight beeline to the wooden door before slamming it behind her. The subtle sound of someone clearing their throat dragged her from her internal celebration. 

The woman looked to be no older than sixteen, but she knew better than to believe she was any younger. Her silky hair was tied neatly out of her face, with very little makeup brushing her features. An extravagant rococo-styled dress fell to her ankles as she busied herself with a thick novel. Only when she met her eyes did Yui notice the resemblance the woman shared with the brothers. 

“A mortal girl,” The woman said, almost matter-of-factly. “You must be the sacrificial bride, correct? Yui Kamori, I presume.”

She nodded, so slowly that she seemed unsure, causing a jovial laugh to slip through the beautiful woman's painted lips. 

“I see…you’re not much of a talker, are you?” The woman smiled politely before closing the book that rested in her hands, lazily tracing small circles into its cover. “No matter. Answer me this, how did you get in here? Subaru must've forgotten to close it, he's in here quite often, after all, he's such a big baby.”

“Wha…What?”

“That door is never open so I think you know what I’m hinting at.” The physically younger woman leaned toward the mortal girl, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “As for Subaru, I'm a little bit older than him so he tends to cling to me like his life depends on it!”

Yui gave her a look of blatant confusion, hardly catching onto whatever the young vampire was spewing out. “Hm, you look a bit confused and clueless, let me help you.” The woman smiled, whispering her rude comment dismissively “Do you even know why I’m in here?”

Yui shook her head, ignoring the anxiety gnawing away at her composure. Gradually shying away from the woman's attention as she hugged her sides. 

“Oh my, then this should be a real treat.” She giggled, gazing fondly at the frightened girl. “Now, Yui Kamori, allow me, [Name] Sakamaki to tell you a tale of endless obsession!”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—いつも、いつまでも♡

[deathbxnny]

HI LOVEE!!!

ok, this is a once in a lifetime occasion because I am obsessed with WuWa.

May I request an angst to fluff fic with Husband! Jiyan?

So, fem reader as always! As we all know the busy General spends most of his time at the front lines, but he always makes sure to send his sweet wife some gifts back! But she can't help but feel a bit neglected by him, missing him too much and some people's loud mouths talking bad about their relationship did not help either, so what happens when Jiyan returns home to surprise his wife but finds her crying silently instead? I'll leave that to you!!

I just love him sm, he's my lovely main! what's your team pookie? I'll share mine! Jiyan (main DPS) Encore (sub DPS) and Verina (Healer), sometimes I switch Encore with Rover (I chose the female one, which one did you choose?)

anyways, love you, keep yourself hydrated and rest! sweet flowers for my sweet bxnny → 💐🌻🌺

I saw angst and felt the voices (angst demons) attempt to take over lmao.

But my current team is usually made out of Calcharo, Verina, and Yinlin (I sometimes change out either Calcharo or Yinlin with my boy Jiyan tho, depending on what I'm fighting-). I also chose the female Rover, btw! She's just so cute!^^

So with that all said, thank you for the request, and I hope you'll love this too, dear moot!!<33

Content: Female/afab reader, husband Jiyan, some angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of paranoia, death (not of reader or Jiyan), mentions of war, sfw

Reader is afab!

((Not proofread))

When he's gone for too long. (Husband!Jiyan x Fem!Reader)

Your excitement dies when you open the front door in the hope of seeing your husband, only to be faced with a soldier instead. He stands there calmly, face expressionless like all the others before him, as he holds out an intricate package to you. If you didn't know any better, you would've knocked it out of his hands.

"A package for you, my lady. From the general." The man hummed, waiting patiently for you to take it. He didn't shy away from the anger in your eyes, the pain and pure annoyance, that was then stilled with a deep breath. They were used to it by now.

"Thank you." You said, the package feeling heavy in your hands when you shut the door behind you again wordlessly. Not seeing the way the soldier opened his mouth once more to say something else.

Something that would've quelled the anger in your heart.

You threw the gift on a pile next to the door, dust slightly filling the air when it hit the many others that came before it. It wasn't that you weren't grateful or happy. But you also just wanted your husband to be here instead. You wanted him to hand you these gifts. Him to be the one that appears at your door after being gone for so long.

It angered you that he wasn't here, even if you knew why.

Being a general was difficult and draining. It forced him to stay out on the frontlines for weeks and even months on end with minimal communication, if any at all. His solution was, therefore, to simply send his wife lavish gifts in hopes of making her feel less lonely, but he knew better than to believe that it ultimately worked in the long run.

Your anger made you feel selfish, and the guilt made you feel worse. You were stuck in an inescapable cycle that was impossible to break out of. Leaving the home for a break was impossible as well. No matter where you went, the pity filled looks and taunting whispers seemed to haunt you. It made you barely step out of the house. You couldn't do it, not without him.

It was a miserable existence, and yet you never voiced your woes to Jiyan either. You didn't want to burden him with such troubles when he had worse things to worry about. He had been through atrocities he could never even speak of, so surely you could survive the couple weeks without him, right? He was keeping you all safe, his sacrifices were important. Even if it was at the cost of your sanity.

But now that you sat here in the darkness of your living room all alone, you realise that you perhaps never accepted the neglect as much as you wanted to. You felt horrible, the guilt eating you alive whilst you shed endless tears and hid your face in your hands, body shaking and trembling with every sob. It was unfair. It wasn't right. You had to wipe away the agony and be strong for him. You shouldn't act like this.

What would the people think if they saw the generals wife crying over him performing his duties? They'd mock you even more, shake their heads in disappointment, give you lethal looks that burned you from the inside out. The embarrassment, the shame... you internalized it all until this very moment. You had finally burst at the seams, and just as you thought that you'd have to suffer through this alone as usual, a gentle, calloused hand cupped yours softly.

"My love?" His voice startled you, a gasp leaving your lips as you attempted to pull away and turn your head in panic. You didn't hear him approach you. Heart sinking in your chest, you realised that he was sitting right next to you, his other hand resting on your back to keep you in place against him. You couldn't breathe, as you panted heavily.

"What happened to you? Did something happen in my absence? I sent a soldier to send you a message about my return, but..." His eyes swayed to the pile gifts near the doorway, his heart clenching when he began piecing together what may have caused your plight. Despite you thinking otherwise, his observant eyes caught onto more than he let on. He wasn't blind or deaf to what the general public seemed to think of you, nor was he that unaware of your pain and neglect. He himself felt pain for his actions, even if he had no true choice in them. It's a sacrifice that had to be made as long as there was a threat to the city and most importantly your life out there.

But now, as he sat there, your face pushed to his chest as you cried, and his heart cracked under the pressure of your tears, he realised that he didn't need to sacrifice your well-being this much as well. You didn't deserve it.

"Please... don't leave me like this again." Your words were quiet, so quiet that he nearly didn't catch them, but his mind and soul were only focused on you. His gaze softened as his hand ran through your hair before he pressed his head against yours in solidarity. He didn't want it to get this far. He didn't want to make you cry until even air couldn't enter your lungs.

Perhaps he had overworked himself far too hard. Perhaps he had been gone for longer than he needed to... but that will stop now.

"My apologies, my love. It won't happen again. I will try staying for longer now..." He trailed off, as he kissed your forehead and wiped away your tears. He knew he had alot to make up for, but he wasn't the type to back down from such an important mission.

And the smallest relieved smile on your tired face made it worth it.

Alrighttt... I hope this was okay! I admittedly wrote this half asleep, so I'm praying it's not terrible lmao... Anyway, thank you again for the great request, moot!!<33

[tf-kinky]

Vince was consumed by an obsession that bordered on madness. His roommate, Charlie, was the unwitting object of his fixation—his feet. But Charlie, ever the straightforward and unassuming guy, had no interest in Vince's peculiar desires.

In a moment of reckless desperation, Vince decided to take a highly experimental drug he'd heard about, one that promised to turn him into any inanimate object he wished. With his heart pounding and his mind racing with the implications, Vince muttered his intent and felt the world around him warp. His body contorted, shrank, and reshaped into a pair of black slides. He lay there, now just a pair of slides in Charlie's room, waiting for to be worn.

Charlie returned from his outing, in need of a quick change of shoes. His eyes glanced over the slides, and without suspicion, he stepped into Vince. The moment his feet made contact, Vince's new reality was nothing short of a living hell. The smell was overpowering, a potent mix of sweat and the day's grime. Then came the sweat, relentless and soaking, turning Vince's new form into a swamp of discomfort. But the pain was the most excruciating—every step Charlie took was like being crushed underfoot, a constant, grinding agony that made Vince's previous life seem like a distant dream.

Charlie, oblivious to the torment beneath his feet, walked around, getting ready for his evening. He paced, he lounged, he even danced a little to the music playing in the background, each action amplifying Vince's suffering. Hours passed like this, with Vince enduring each moment, wishing he could scream, but only able to exist in silent agony.

Late into the night, when Charlie finally decided it was time to sleep, he removed Vince, put him in his footwear cupboard. With no room for Vince to revert back to human form, tthe drug's effects should have worn off, Vince realized with growing horror that the transformation was now permanent.

The drug, within the confines of the cupboard, had solidified his fate. Vince was now, and would forever be, Charlie's slides. Each day brought the same routine—Charlie would wear him, the weight, the odor, the sweat all part of Vince's eternal torment. He was no longer Vince, the person, but an object of utility, his existence reduced to suffering beneath Charlie's feet.

Vince's new life was one of endless pain, his desires turned into a cruel, unending reality. Every step Charlie took, Vince felt the weight of his choices, a reminder of the folly of his obsession, now his permanent, torturous existence.

Five months had passed since Vince's life had been irrevocably altered. The slides, once a simple, black pair, were now a testament to the wear and tear of constant use. The material had frayed, the soles were worn down to nearly nothing, and the smell was a diabolical pungent reminder of their daily journey through Charlie's life. Vince, trapped in this decaying form, had endured every moment of it, his consciousness a prisoner to the relentless cycle of pain and degradation.

Charlie, finally noticing the sorry state of his slides, decided it was time for a change. He was unaware of the living nightmare he had been walking on for months. To him, they were just another pair of shoes that had reached the end of their lifespan. One evening, after a long day, Charlie decided to clean up his space. He gathered the old, ruined slides along with other trash and carried them down to the basement where the trash compactor was located. With no sentimentality or hesitation, he tossed Vince into the compactor, thinking only about clearing out clutter.

As the compactor hummed to life, Vince felt the crushing weight descend upon him. The initial pressure was like nothing he had felt before—far worse than any step or the confines of the shoebox. The machine began its work, compressing everything within, including Vince. The pain was beyond what he had known, a sensation of being squeezed out of existence, his very being compressed into nothingness. In those final moments, Vince's consciousness, already stretched thin by months of suffering, began to fade. The slides, his prison and his identity, disintegrated under the relentless force of the compactor. With each mechanical grind, Vince's awareness dimmed until there was nothing left—no pain, no scent, no Vince.

Charlie, upstairs, was already forgetting about the slides, moving on to other tasks. The trash was taken away, compacted, and disposed of, ending Vince's existence without fanfare or recognition. The experiment that had once promised transformation had instead delivered an eternal sentence, concluded by the mundane act of throwing away trash.

And so, Vince's story ended—not with a bang, but with the quiet, mechanical closure of a trash compactor, his essence lost forever in the detritus of everyday life.

Charlie bought a new pair of slides the next morning, although he couldn't understand why these new slides were significantly less comfortable. He may discover the transformation drug one day, and realise what happened to his roommate and discover humsn material makes the best transformation material, although he forgot Vince's name ages ago.

[quaritchsbunny]

Tsu’tey as a Yandere - 1/2 (hc styled fic)

Wc: 4.8k Warnings/Tags: tsutey x f!Reader, human!reader, yandere behavior, stalking, obsessive behavior, tsu’tey is a bit scary here, traditional yandere kidnapping, Jake makes a cameo, Tsutey refers to the reader as mate. A/N: So uh.. I dont know why the full thing ended up being 8k either but enjoy this first part (this is one of the most mid things i’ve written ever but)

Extremity Scale: 4/5

Type of Yandere:  Overprotective, desperate, violent (not to reader), slightly manipulative

-The forest of pandora gives, endlessly, mercily, and without seeking in return as long as the energy of life is respected and cycled properly

-Bioluminiscent ferns lit the trodden soil in the cool nights, guiding ways to hunts, hometree, waterfalls, and spirit trees alike, animals graze on the herbous plants that made themselves home to the forest floor, age old trees and forests that served to harbor navi, young viperwolves, pandora gives and gives, only taking what was necessary for survival

-And so does a particular warrior of the Omaticaya Clan

-Tsutey was no rookie to the cycle of sacrifice and giving in the life of a navi

-He had given everything to be the sculpted, skilled, and scorn sigma he is now

-Climbing through the piles of tasks, waking up before the dawn everyday to dedicate his every breath to the clan, muscles trained to protect even if eyes were closed in deep sleep

-Ever since completing his coming of age trials, the tribe held no candidate for the next olo’ekytan other than the overachieved young man that had rose through the ranks like it was his destiny to be the best, at everything and anything

-Whether it was direhorses, ikrans, or even thanators, the creatures of pandora bowed at his will and he was able to tame his first ikran at the record setting age of 8

-His physical ability was no surprise either, the young man who hunted with the accuracy of the eye from eywa, though never taking more than the clan needed

-His loyalty to the omaticaya was also unmatched, always the first to lead a hunt, offer his share of food to a young navi, training adolescents, taking up any dangerous risky situations in the name of assistance

-He gave his all in absolutely everything he did, his heart pumped beats of dedication to his clan, strong arms working to hunt and support the people he loved, mind laid down solely on the purpose of serving his community, giving, giving, and giving more

-It was his nature, and though he seemed like an intimidating, judgemental man in the eyes of other members of his clan, he never complained about doing what he had to for his home

-However, it seemed that the more Tsutey gave to the world, the more they took from him instead

-Draining him of passion with piling the responsibilities, looking eyes, and hovered breath on the next olo’ekytan in line 

-Suddenly, the kill he brought back from hunts didn’t seem enough, hungry eyes always seem to ask for more, more, more

-Suddenly, more and more tasks were layered on to him with no specific reason

-At first, they only took his energy, his loving nature towards the clan became more of a scorned pain as he dutifully agreed to risk his life over and over again

-The tasks eventually drained him of the humble, dedication he had clung to over the years, his pride only settling in the growing reliance and place of authority and respect he rose to be in the clan, because the members themselves didn’t exactly see much other than that

-While others his age were able to scamper about finding mates, he was stamped day and night at posts in the forest acquiring materials for the people

-But what could he do? It was for the greater good, and in any way, who would step up to do it if it wasnt him? If it wasn’t the prodigy warrior of the forest clan who was much too good to be true?

-Then when the sky people began to settle, everything began to be snatched from the corner of his eye

-It all began to collapse with the damned avatar, Jake Sully, strolling into the tribe Tsutey had sustained and supported with his bare hands for years and accepted without much of a protest from anyone in the tribe

-He had to give more and more, investing in a person he didn’t even want, training him, leading him to tame his ikran

-Before he could even prove his point of the avatar being an infiltrator by demonstrating to the clan, the newbie had snatched his promised mate, neytiri, right away from him

-Truthfully, tsutey knew deep down he and neytiri didn’t feel anything for each other besides mutual respect, but this was a hard blow from the hard resolve he had been holding onto since life began to drain him

-It seemed unfair, even a sky person could find a mate in a little less than 3 months, what contributions had Jake even made to the clan other than clumsily stumbling through hunts? All Jake was is another taker, another person who relished in the harbor of the home tsutey fought to protect, gave everything for, taking everything without appreciation

-Tsutey was tired of it, drained after neytiri announced her and jake’s union, he was done

-He was done with giving

-He was done with the rituals he dedicated himself for in the greater good of the tribe

-His heart still pumped loyalty, but his heart was also tired

-Tired giving and giving with no return.

-Maybe it’s his turn to take something. For his own. 

-After all, he deserves it more than anyone

Tsutey’s trudging through the forest, arrow in hand even though he didn’t intend to hunt anything. He wanted to take something, out of spite, just to prove that he can own something, something that belongs to him. Take something instead of giving himself out until he’s hollow. Show that he didnt have to be the sacrificial honorable clan warrior he always takes on. 

God, when was the last time he’s been in the forest for a purpose other than for serving the tribe?

Lost in his thoughts, he stopped marching through the soil angrily.

He had been stomping on the grounds that gave him life, gave him everything, the air he breathes, the fruits he savors, and now he’s taking his anger out on the forest for the stress he’s been feeling

Staring into the muddy reflection in the water, he sees eyebags, cracked face paint for the most recent hunt, bright free strands of air tinted red at the end looking distressed

The bright pandora night vibrates around him, as he takes deep breaths and continues pacing onto “his spot”

The spot he went to unwind and relax before Jake sully came, before life seemed to take more and more from him. After a bit of sidetracking and remembering paths, he arrived

However, something wasn’t right

He inspected the moss surrounding the area, still green and vibrant, the tree branches, though now longer, still extended from the same angle from the main trunk, what is it?

He took a deep breath to process before it hit him. A scent. But not just any scent, a human scent

His blood boiled, finally, he had came to his spot to relax and unwind and even that's being taken away from another sky person

Another one? Did Sully send an extra spy?  He thought scornfully as he quietly trailed the scent

Stepping closer and closer until it was certain to be near, tsutey narrowed his lime colored eyes, four nimble fingers running against the auburn of the wood cylinder on his arrow. Searching for a small frame that smelled of soft cotton until he spotted you. He gulped. 

He softened a bit at your dress, instead of cargoes and thick vests that the human warriors wore with their heavy firearms and came to suck Pandora dry of its resources, you were wrapped in a crisp lab coat, the same kind his childhood teacher who taught him english - Dr Augstine-  used to wear. He could see your back, as you were hunched over on the ground, delicate hands trembling as stray locks fell from the messy scrunchie ponytail you held your hair in as some strands were held under the snug band of a camera around your neck.

A scientist? Tsutey pondered, pupils dilating as he snuffed out your scent, trying to distinguish it under the blouse that fit you snugly.

God, you were all wrapped up in unnecessary layers of sky people layers like a gift for him. And oh god did he wanna take you.

With the grace and expertise of a trained warrior, he stepped closer without making a sound, ears tipping towards your direction to pick up signs of why you were laying on the ground

Suddenly, his senses picked up a strong punch of blood, he gulped as he realized it, a small patch of red under your arm that spread through the pristine white of your lab coat. But it wasn’t your blood.

He tilted his head to catch a hint of a pali (direhorse) foal, bleeding out as one of it’s small hooves caught painfully onto a split branch, you had pulled it out and were now wrapping it’s hooves 

His heart tingled as you cooed softly, admiring your gentleness as your fingers curled around hoove, pressing the human gauze into the wound as you layed down, wet soil mulching into the flappy ends of your lab coat as you treated the foal

Oh never in his navi life had he wished so desperately for eywa to take his soul and put it in the injured direhourse, he wanted to feel this cotton sky girl’s touch, your gentle fingers that ran across the deep injuries he stuffed away to give endlessly to others. 

Never in his navi life had he been so grateful to have his sharper senses, and exceptional eyesight, built to sculpt out the tiniest of movements in the dim nights on pandora even without bioluminiscent plants helping, it was the reason why he was basically a arms length away from you but can smell you, see you, and just almost feel you like you were next to him. Where he was so sure you belonged

That was when Tsutey decided to take you

Well, not immediately, and definitely not because of the way his world seemd to melt and his instincts sharpened to smell you, hear you, and god- he imagined touching you.

He closed and eyes and imagined it, splitting resolutions of holding you underneath him, your pretty little body, so much smaller than his, biting into your lab coat as he mated and-

No, that's not why he decided to take you

He obviously only wanted to observe you as a potential prisoner of war and another alien sky person he can bring back to the tribe to show how the invasive species have been encroaching more

That’s exactly why he decided to silently move boulders around your path, gritting his teeth as he lifted the heavy rocks three times his size, silently gliding through the lush forest and blocking every possible way you had to reach the RDA lab or even contact them again, creating a nice enclosed radius so that he can observe this prisoner of war (charged for stealing his heart)

After the inital trap was set. He waited. You seemed to finally come to your senses to let the foal heal on its own when the night settled matte black around you

His heart pierced with thrill as he began to smell your panic, your widened eyes and your useless flimsy arms that tried to push over the boulders a certain navi warrior planted to capture you (what were you thinking? You couldn’t move these without the strength training tsutey had from wrestling ikrans, silly girl)

After a while, you and the pali foal both lay down in the opening of “his spot”, which was an intimate cave, decorated by tsutey’s memories with the vibrant yellow paint on the stone walls. 

Even in a threatening situation, your eyes stayed glued on the foal, muttering in fluid english under your breath about it’s “adolescence” and “need for its mother” as you took off the crimped ivory hair band that bound your now dissheveled hair, wrapping it around the foal’s 

Hmm, maybe Tsutey wouldn’t immediately take bind you and take you back to the tribe, not because he was getting soft for you, but clearly because the foal needed more treatment

His heart almost swells in pride, finally seeing someone take care of Pandora with the same hospitality it gave, with the same hospitality tsutey gave. What else could he possibly do? You were so helpless and he was the only one who could possibly help you in this situation!

That night, he found himself in a trance, tail swatting against the cave happily as he watched you sleep after you took pictures of the foal for documentation (funnily enough, you wanted photo evidence to show your coworkers back at the lab, like you were ever gonna see them again), when he heard soft puffs of air from your nose becoming slow and steady, he decided to take the pali foal back

He tread carefully, until he gently uncurled the foal from you, its hoove still wrapped in your scrunchie. 

He had made the smallest move in his boulder, dropping the foal off at the nearest direhorse den before rushing back to you. His heart beat with the unfamiliarity of taking something, so unapologetically, so fearlessly, but everything felt so right. The scrunchie that had been wrapped loosely around the foal’s hoof was now clean of blood and bound tightly around his own wrist, the ivory color complimenting his azure skin 

By the time he made it back to the cave, the morning eclipse had risen, light slowly pouring into the mouth of the cave. He watched slowly as you woke up, panicked when you didn't see the foal anymore. You groan, the sore in your shoulder from sleeping on the stone floor of the cave becoming stronger as you stand up. Still dazed and slightly panicked as you made your way around, uslessly pushing the stone boulders that remainedl stiff and restricting. You had given up on leaving, and instead curled up on the forest floor, sighing as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. What have you gotten yourself into? Is this what you deserved for helping out like an idiot? All you wanted was to nurse the poor foal and guide it to safety like a decent human. You had no means of communication with the RDA or the lab, and now you’re stranded all alone without even a source of water or someone to talk to.

Well, while you might’ve been right about having someone to talk to, you definitely weren’t alone.

Tsutey frowned when he smelled the saltine tears and heard your sniffs. Had he messed something up already? He was doing a huge favor for you! You were just a bit too overwhelmed to see it. Was it so bad for him to seperate you from those resource hungry humans that couldn’t possibly appreciate your kindness and generosity towards Pandora like he did? Questions raced through his mind, and unfortunately he knew exactly who to ask. And he quietly tread out, the slight crunch of a boulder moving unnoticed as you lay on the ground, scared and lonely. His poor mate! She’s all worked up, clearly she hasn’t ever had someone court her in such privacy, maybe she needs some food to calm down, that's it!

Tsutey sprinted his way back to hometrree , swinging by his hut for the briefest second and giving a sleep deprived scowl as he got the biggest straw basket he could find. On his way out, he pushed aside any adolescents pestering him for training lessons and respectably denied any hunt leads with a shallow bow of his head, not giving them a drop of attention of time.

Tsutey had just gotten to the base of hometree, arms clad with a basket full of fruits and a canteen of water before a familiar, english dialect infected voice sounded. “Tsutey, hold on!” the newly mated Sully scampered forward, awkwardly holding out his five fingers for a handshake as if he didn’t already know navi didnt like those

Tsutey turned the other cheek, not wanting to waste more of his darling's time on the awkward conversation that was sure to follow with the avatar. 

“Listen, I just wanna say I never knew you and Neytiri were-” Tsutey huffs impatiently, red strands hitting the side of his cheek as he looks to him

“It doesn’t matter Sully, I don’t care anymore” Tsutey says, feet already taking him down the path to the forest

“H-hey wait, whose scrunchie is that?” Jake calls out, fingers around tsutey’s wrist as it caressed the distinctly human design of a hairband

Tsutey nearly swung the basket at Jake's face when he felt fingers touch something so precious, the only possession he had from his mate. “God, Sully, planning to steal my actual mate from me now?” the words came out without filter, and he can see Sully’s amber eyes widen as the words computed

“What?” The avatar exclaimed in full english, numb fingers falling from the scrunchie as Jake blinked his eyes hard as if he was hallucinating the conversation

Tsutey rolled his eyes, he knew he shouldve just got going instead of talking

“Well, since you’re here anyways, mind telling me some human friendly pandorian fruits or anything that can make them more comfortable?” It wasn’t a request, more of a demand as Tsutey picked the canteen of water off the ground and into the basket again

The dumbstruck avatar shook his head “Wait- Tsutey- who even”

“I’ll answer after you tell me what a human scientist female’s favorite fruit can be”

With Jakes help, Tsutey was able to acquire a makeshift blanket, which Jake had emphasized was very important for humans and their comfort in sleep, some pandorian fruits similar to popular earth fruits, and Jake even helped Tsutey write a note in English to go in the basket full of goodies to comfort your captivity status

Jake almost offered to follow along with Tsutey to be an interpreter, and Tsutey almost fought him on the mere idea. How dare Sully judge his English skills? What if he helped his darling escape? He shook the thoughts out of his head and made his way back to where you were instead, thoughts heavy as his arms cradled the heavy basket of goods for you

Although Tsutey was excited to claim you as his officially, he wanted to subtly ease into it, with small signs and mating gestures. What you definitely didn’t need right now was a 10 feet navi overwhelming you

Plus, what could he possibly say? “Hey, I just saw you yesterday, I love you, I love the way you do everything, I love that you healed an animal, I need you to be my mate, you make me feel like a valid person again, and I don’t even know why I’m so attracted to you? You’re too pure to be hanging out with your breed and I’m just acting the initiative to protect and take what’s meant for me”

No, all those words were useless, and anyways, Tsutey was always more of a physical and show over tell person, so he’d slowly earn his way to your heart, no matter how twisted it is because in all honesty, it shouldn’t be hard for you to accept since he was the only one you’d be interacting with in this enclosed piece of the forest

So, he dropped the basket off, as your overwhelmed frame was curled up in the corner of the cave, back facing the opening as you sniffled before you were interrupted with a clad thump agains the stone floor

You sprang to your feet defensively, hands in front of you as if you were gonna be able to defend yourself from whatever the forest of pandora had to offer

Your swollen eyes narrow on a handwoven basket, overflowing with things sitting in the opening of the cave. Were you hallucinating? Did you die or was that a basket full of fruit that looked awfully familiar to what you always craved as a kid? 

You slowly creep closer to the basket, looking around the opening of the cave, stepping out to completely scan your surroundings for any movement or sign of another living mammal that could’ve dropped this well-coordinated basket of essentials

After spotting absolutely no one except for hearing the hint of polymeruses hooting a few hundred feet away (tsutey was actually hiding on top of the cave, perched elegantly as he watched you scan your surroundings like a cautious cat. you were too short to see him from that angle.) you decide to settle back into the sunlight of the cave opening, carefully peeling back the thick woven blanket as a crumple of paper fell out, your fingers frame around it, deciphering the english even through Tsutey’s rough handwriting (nothing you weren’t used to as a lab scientist)

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just can’t let you go now that I’ve found you. Please just eat and stay healthy right now, or I might have to show myself a bit earlier than I’d like and feed you. I hope you like the blanket.” 

Your hand shakes as you read the note. So it wasn’t any coincidence? Someone had seen you and trapped you here? When? How? Why? Your heart raced as you ran through the millions of possibilities, but all of the panic was gone as soon as you saw the canteen of water. God you were thirsty, you hadn’t drank in how who knows how many hours it had been since you last drank anything. The canteen was downed immediately and tsutey’s hand unclenched when he heard you drinking.

There was progress! You’re allowing him to take care of you, more or less, mate or not. 

You picked up a fruit, ripe, washed, and about the size of your palm. Biting into it reminded you of moments on earth when they still had fruits, before most fresh foods went extinct as people prioritized corrupt tech industries and manufacturing over agriculture. You look at the fruit in wonder before you take a second bite, relaxing and reading the note again, sighing as you accept your situation

Well, goodbye to your underpaid, overworked position at the RDA, your heart did twinge at the fact that an unknown person (person? Navi? Pandorian mammals that can speak and write English, who knows) had intentionally trapped you. But if they were nice enough to give you fruit, water, blanket, and even the grace of a handwritten note, there’s no way they can be that bad, right?

Tsutey’s face carves into a rare, toothy smile. Holding back a heart chuckle when he sees you chew through the fruit and visibly relax. See? You were so perfect for him, you had just been hungry and panicked before.

By the time you finished, you decided to set the blanket up in the corner of the cave that you slept in, putting your heavy camera down in the basket as you lifted the blanket. You inspected the woven material, trying to decipher any hint of where it came from, it seemed to be made of fur with a base of what felt awfully like woven bamboo. You recognized a traditional omaticaya pattern and from the scent left, it smelled of a male. 

For an unknown reason, the scent relaxed you, you gulped and beat yourself up in your head. Why were you sniffing a blanket a stranger gave you? God you were being even creepier than whoever was holding you captive here.

You had decided to dispose of the remains of your fruit (the big pit in the middle) by replanting them, you head over to pull them out of the basket before you realize it’s gone without a trace, and so is your camera, all left is the note.

Your heart picked up, realizing whoever sent you it had been actively watching to make sure you ate and finished, before taking it.

With a lighter mindset about your current predicament, you decided to pace around, examining the strategically placed stones as you explore the little area around you. It was nice, to be honest, it seemed to be a hideout spot. You pace back to your cave, you couldn’t see it last night due to the lack of light but you make out little paintings on the cave, hint of life and creation. Could it be that many people have been here before? Was your capturer regularly kidnapping humans? How many have been here before?

Dark thoughts rush down your spine with a chill as you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to think rationally. Why would they take the time to feed you and keep you alive, going as far as giving you a blanket? You knew Navi well, they acted on their intention and if your capturer had wanted to kill you, you’re almost sure he would’ve done it, or at least send you back to his tribe to question it

You wonder if it could be an avatar? You hand’t known many Navi to be able to speak English. You shook the opportunity away, there was only Jake, who had assimilated well to the omaticaya tribe now and would never go this far out from the main village.

Your mysterious captor, on the other hand, was rushing back to the home tree and gushing to Jake about how successful the first basket of goods had been, demanding Jake to tell him more ways of earning a human female’s heart as he rushed to fill the basket up with a variety of goods. 

Jake picks up the RDA scientist issued camera, recognizing it as he tilted it, flipping through your previous photos. 

“So, a scientist? Interesting, Tsutey” Sully says lightly, watching as tsutey again denied any regular tasks and strode around, looking for something new to give you to eat

Tsutey’s head flashes to the camera as Jake clicks through it, multiple photos of your lab results and the recent picture of the injured foal lighting up on the screen.

“Suppose so” Tsutey says in english, peering through the dialog of your photos

As Tsutey scowls through the the puffed grain selection, scrutinizing each one as if he doubted if it was good enough for you, Jake silently clicked a photo of Tsutey’s frame, chest leaned over the basket as his toned arms reached to select the most perfect of grains. He then closes the camera and slips the black machine back into the basket wordlessly

By the night time, you were leaning against the trunks of a tree, examining the bioluminiscent moss that adorned the wood before you heard a quiet tap on stone floor

You look back towards the direction of your cave, recognizing the basket as you see it loaded with more food, what seemed to be puffed grain, and your camera returned.

You weren’t exactly famished yet, so you picked up your camera first, opening the lens to snap a picture of the moss. Might as well make the most tof your time here as a scientist and not just as someone held captive. The screen loads but lands on a recent photo in the dialog instead of the lens perspective and you catch a pretty full photo of sleek, toned arms, the beaded layered neck cover adorning his upper chest as he leaned over a familiar basket as nimble fingers sorted through grain, the blue skin clad against woven strings of a loingcloth that hung low on the hips. And ah, there, the scrunchie you had wrapped around the direhorse yesterday, cleaned and sitting cozy on his wrist. There was a hint of a tail but photo ended at the chest, giving you no identity information without the face

The corners of your lips lifted in admiration and your heart raced as the pieces fit together, so it was a navi who was watching you and caring for you, taking the time to hand pick out your food. You recognized the sculpted form of an omaticaya warrior anywhere. And who took the photo? Not many navi knew how to operate a modern camera

Questions float through your head, and from his spot on the roof of the cave, Tsutey’s heart leapt too. Damn the sully, of course he snapped a photo using your machine. It was lucky enough that he didn’t expose his entire face, but his thoughts were quenched as soon he saw your little grin while you stared at the photo. His photo

You smile one last time, clicking a save to the photo of Tsutey before you go back to the lens to take a photo of the moss. Your second night in the cave was spent munching on puffed grain, huddled in the musky pine scented blanket as you dreamed of beaded neck covers and toned blue arms.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Simple Pleasures | Jeno Imagine #13

Title: Simple Pleasures

Genre: Fluff...lots of it lol

Warning: mildly suggestive towards the end

Word Count: 835

Author's Note: Again, I apologize for how long it's taken me to update on here. College has been keeping me pretty busy this month (and I will continue to, I'm afraid). But I managed to write this little scenario over the past few days. I also have a new Haechan fic that I plan on posting in the near future. So please look forward to that! Thank you for reading ^ ^

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Quiet evenings have always been your favorite. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose to take its place, the day’s dishes were neatly stacked in the dishwasher, ready for their nightly cycle. Freshly folded laundry was tucked away in the dresser and closets, organized for the week ahead. After a soothing shower washed away the weariness of the day, you let your hair air-dry. Now, two hours later, it’s finally dry as you lean back in the swivel chair at your desk. 

You didn’t need to touch the long hair cascading over your shoulders to know how silky smooth it was. Freshly washed hair was one of those simple pleasures you’d grown to appreciate as you matured into a young adult. And as it turned out, your husband Jeno seemed to love it even more.

The soft creak of the door caught your attention, and you turned your head to see him quietly step inside. Even though he’d just come home from work, the sight of his oversized hoodie with a print of a white cat and black sweatpants told you he had already freshened up at the company. According to him, it saved more time for you. Not that you complained otherwise.

With just a foot in the room, his eyes were immediately drawn to your hair. A familiar warmth spreads through your chest, though he’s done every time, without fail. Jeno was always affectionate— he’d find any excuse to hold you, kiss you, or simply be close. But there was something about your freshly washed hair that made him borderline obsessed.

“Hey babe,” His deep voice was soft, laced with that playful tone he often used when he was about to be extra clingy. 

Though the compliment made your cheeks flush with warmth, it didn’t stop you from getting up and walking over with open arms. “Hey Honey,” you said back.

As soon as he was within reach, your arms naturally slipped around his waist. His strong arms wrapped around you in return, pulling you into his chest. Your shoulders relaxed as you melted into his embrace, feeling his nose gently nuzzle against the top of your head. One sniff was all it took to bring a smile to his face.

“You smell amazing,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper into your hair.

His voice was muffled as he buried his face deeper into your hair, making you giggle. “Thanks, you always say that.”

It still surprised you sometimes, remembering how Jeno didn’t like the scent of red ginseng before you got married. But after moving in together, it grew on him quickly. He’d often say he liked the fragrance far more than the taste of the Korean root.

“Only because it’s true,” he said with a confident grin.

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you pulled back just enough to meet his gleeful gaze. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers gently threaded through your hair, brushing against the nape of your neck.

Trying not to let his touch be too distracting, you hummed. “Well if you love the scent so much, maybe you can join me in the shower next time.”

The tone in your voice was innocent, which perhaps made the playful glint in Jeno’s eyes spark even more mischievous. His lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Oh?” his voice dropped, sending your heart racing. “You want me to shower with you, babe?”

Your face turned a deeper shade of red as you realized how your suggestion sounded to him. “T-that’s not what I meant!” you stammered, stepping back in an attempt to escape his arms.

But Jeno held you firmly in place, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction a little too much. 

“Mm-hmm, sure. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m not exactly against the idea,” he teased, though you caught a hint of sincerity in his words.

The you from those first few months of marriage would have shied away in this moment. Honestly, you could say the same about Jeno and he’d agree. But two years of marriage had made you two a little more bolder.

Glancing up at him, you leaned in a little closer so that your noses brushed against one another. “Maybe…I don’t hate it either.”

The way your voice lowered in a soft murmur, made Jeno’s heart pound even louder than yours. His eyes darkened slightly and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips. 

“Well then,” he whispered against your mouth, “I’ll hold you to that next time, babe.”

The feeling of his lips left this lingering heat, a silent promise of the many kisses yet to come that night, and forever really. As your lips met again, you couldn’t help but smile while his fingers tangled in your hair even more, making your heart feel light and full.

Among all of your simple pleasures, freshly washed hair held a close second, but Lee Jeno was undeniably your favorite.

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