#like did you even watch the show? are there any brain cells in there?

[broodpuff]

everyone with a working brain cell recognizes that catra isn’t an irredeemable kitty. cry about it.

how spop should have dealt with catra

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

While gazing down at you, his ringed finger drifted down your chest and along the seam of your blazer. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[kiyzukiy]

Cat distribution system

Sypnosis: Caleb? A cat. You? None the wiser, but you have a stinky cat now so how about give him a bath? Nothing could go wrong, right?

Tags: CalebxReader, fun, Cat!Caleb, reader is not MC, self-aware!Caleb?, Caleb in our world

A/N: And I'm back again! This one is a bit shorter than the starter, but I hope you still like it. As usual cat shenanigans. That's it. I've also implemented a taglist now, so anyone who wants to get peeping hot updates hit me up! :3

Word count: 3,9k

<<previous || next >>

divider by me

Lost in your thoughts if you really should name a cat that you probably have to give away again, you didn’t notice the squirming cat on your thighs. Was it a wise choice? Probably not. If you gave it a silly name was it easier to give it away again? Like the ones they give the animals in a shelter. Dave, the magical cheese wizard or something. You also thought about giving it a meaningful name like “hope” or something along the lines. 

You only got disrupted by your sense of smell. Jesus Christ, was that you? No. You were forgetting something very important here, you were sure of it. Raising up your arms so you could smell your clothes, you wanted to facepalm yourself the very next second. The cat. Where did you find it? That's right. In a dumpster. Oh your fucking god. 

Amused about your own stupidity you shook your head. You really were tired and your mind was barely even in survival mode. 

A tinge of guilt and shame hit your system. So immersed in yourself, you totally forgot that you picked up a cat on your way home and just did what you usually did. Playing Love and Deepspace for an hour and then making food as soon as motivation found your body again. It was a simple way to unwind. Clearing your head in a way and let you focus again as soon as your little me time was over. The true dangers of a routine, and what didn’t help your already offline mind was that cat quickly made your space to its new home. It surprised you that cat didn’t dive head first for a spot to hide after your small walk. You thoroughly expected that reaction as it was the default for any animal. Hide, checking out the stranger, gauging the threat and then maybe trying to form a relationship. 

Not your friendly buddy of a cat right here though. Would you have any brain cells left to use critical thinking, you also would wonder about the high intelligence the cat a moment prior showed. How knowingly it moved it’s paws to go to “falling for you”, watching what it saw as if it understood the scene that played. 

Once more ripped the stench you out of your thoughts. Cat however didn't seem to be bothered to be covered in grime and everything a street had to offer. Its fur caked together and a smell emitting you wished you could just dose it in a febreze bottle. 

“Alright. No name for you yet, buddy. First a bath”, you said and scooped the cat up. 

This time around the cat was not happy to be picked up. As soon as it wasn't on your legs anymore and near the tablet, cat began to yell and squirm in your arms like the devil was after it. 

“I know, I know. Cat’s can bathe themselves and get clean but this is only once. I promise”, tried to soothe it and held it a bit tighter. 

Cat didn't want to listen to you, it seemed like. Was it this against getting cleaned? Well, you did know cats usually didn't like water and maybe something bad happened to this cat with it. Rain and no shelter would be enough to avoid any kind of water, you think. Just for being in the safe, you closed the bathroom door behind you. No escape until this cat didn't smell like a drunk puked on it. 

________ 

First up? A good call from you to take a bath. He did feel disgusting. Slowly the sensation of sticky dirt and grime spread all over his body, and he too couldn't stand the smell anymore. What even was in that dumpster? Couldn’t he have woken up in a recycling bin rather than in a trash dumpster with whatever that was inside? 

Would he make it easy for you though? Hell no, he wanted answers and for you to figure out that the character you tried to gain affinity for and he was one and the same. That is what is most important here, right now. 

As soon as you scooped him up, he started to complain. Ranging from a simple “let me down, I can walk” over a few demands and maybe one insult but he would rather die than admit that. The next thing he heard was you trying to convince him that it wasn’t even that bad and he knew. Caleb knew it wasn’t that bad, that it was necessary even but he was stressed. Confused. Angry and frustrated. Agitated and for once in his life, he didn’t know what was going on. Back at the experiments as a child, even then, he had a sliver of understanding as to why certain things happened. This shit right here? No clue. A mission, blackout and boom: Cat. If he ever would be honest with himself? He wanted to cry. It was all too much, all too overwhelming. He just got it all back. MC found him again, they slowly were in the making of a new relationship and now this? He almost had it all back. 

The ash brown cat heard a lock falling into place. Oh no. His eyes and thoughts focusing back to reality that was about to unfurl. No, wait. Bathing? Him? You? You were going to bathe him? The realisation hit him like a freight train. He begged your finest pardon? No. The answer was no. Yes, it was necessary but he could do it on his own. No help needed. He was not a cat. He was. Not. A. Cat! No matter that he sported paws right now. He could make it work. He was a man and last time he checked, he was neither a child nor were you his mother that could warrant this treatment! 

You placed him on the ground again. Cold tiles beneath his paws and he had to watch you what could only be described as his personal doom: adjusting water. 

Ey! Leave! He can shower on his own! Ears flattening against his skull, he let out a growl. 

“Alright mister, no need to hiss at me. It's not my fault you ended up like that”, you said absentmindedly with a little laughter in your voice. You weren't even looking in his direction. But, oh a smile on your pretty lips. 

Caleb, in the back of his mind, did understand that you were doing your best as a person caring for a new found pet. If he would just take a deep breath and do what he usually did, that was seeing his opponent out of their eyes, he wouldn’t act this way but emotions were clouding his judgement so he did what he never did: letting them roll. Enraged at your unfitting response, he ended up nipping you in the heel.

“Ow! What the fuck? What was that for?”, with a look full of judgement you looked down at him. “I’m helping you here, you know?”

Serves you right, he meowed and huffed. 

“Not so friendly anymore, huh?”, you chuckled and shook your head in amusement. In the back of his field of vision he saw you turning the water off. Clearly satisfied with the temperature. 

Bold of you to assume that I’m friendly to begin with, he hissed. Not that he expected you to understand that. 

You now fully turned to him and got on your haunches. A hand slowly crept towards him. Inching closer to brush once more over his fur. Soothing, calming, trying to convince him.

“You really need a bath though, so don’t make this difficult for the both of us, yeah?”, you said and looked at him with a pleading look. 

Oh, game on. He will make you regret this. For picking him up on end, like he was some kind of plushie and not having a telepathic evol. Not that any of that was your fault. Was he petty? Childish? Probably, but he was frustrated and with no one but you to vent it on, this was almost too easy. 

Caleb let out a huff. Fed up with you touching him without asking and the height difference that made his neck harden. No wonder you didn’t take him seriously that much. Who would when a smudgy little being that only could hiss and meow showed an act of defiance that was born out of pure spite?

With a flittering look he spotted the next best thing to remedy this temporary issue. In quick succession he was on the bathroom sink and sat down. Now he was looking down on your hunched over form. Your move now.

“Oho? Is this how you wanna play?”, you said as you got up from your position on the bathroom tiles. “Buddy, if you don't go on your own I have no issues to grab you by the scruff and hold you beneath the water. A good little water boarding session would do your new found attitude some good.”

You tried to sound earnest but he saw the mirth in your eyes and the mischievous smirk building on your lips. Still, he kept sitting. Buddy, as if. You were all bark and no bite.

“Have it your way then”, your hand darted out. 

Nah, you wouldn't dare. 

Ey! No! 

He dashed away and just barely missed your hand that was straight going forthe back of his neck.

His escape route was right into the shower bed. Urgh, now his feet were wet. It felt more like stepping into water with socks on. This sensation did not spark joy. One dip and the next jump was right out of the shower again, a few hurried pitter patter taps and onto the toilet seat.

“Mister! Get back here!”

Nuh uh! You are crazy! Don't dare to remind him that he actually went with you to get clean. This objective clearly missing in his mind as he was hellbend of avoiding your hand that was rather good in trying to catch him. Making him work up a sweat. Just barely did he dodge your hand once more that reached for him and onto the sink shelf he went. If he could stick out his tongue, he would. Actually? Why not, he did stick out his tongue at you. 

“Oh you think you are so smart, mister fancy pants”, you said, slightly out of breath. “Just you wait.”

Try me, he meowed, his playful character seeping through. Like a predator lying in wait, you assessed if he would move again. He did the very same. A silent stand-off ensued. Who would move first? Could he hide somewhere? Would you reach out obviously again? 

In his moment of distraction he saw your hand too late out of the corner of his eye and the next thing he felt was your hand steadfast on his scruff. 

“Aha!”, you celebrated triumphant. “Got you!”

Ah, well fought. He yields, but only because it wasn’t worth it to prolong the inevitable further. Your blinding smile to your victory and cute giggle in your voice, might have helped him as well. Caleb came to terms with the fact that you would help him take his first shower in this body. The ash brown cat also had to admit that it was funny to play catch it with you. It took his mind away from the disconnecting mess of information that he still needs to process. For a bit he was just himself again.

Cautiously you put your hand on his hind legs and picked him up. Steady grip that was strong enough so he couldn’t struggle but not enough to hurt. You set him down in the shower and he almost immediately jumped out again. The feeling of wet socks shoots up in him once more and for a split second he wanted to dip. Nah, fuck this. 

“No. Stay”, you said with a stern voice and pressed his ass down in the shower. Ouh! Even worse! That’s like sitting down on a bench you didn’t know was wet. 

I can stand!, he complained. Your grip not loosing up in return. 

“Yes, yes. Water. I know. You got this.”

He definitely didn’t. Caleb's body was screaming at him to move and get rid of these sensations. You try to be a cat and he would force you to go through with this. You can bet your fine ass that he wouldn’t be so nice about it though. 

He sighed. Maybe he should be a bit more kinder to you. Disregarding the conflict in his mind that, yes. He could, should and it probably would make this all easier. On the other side, why? You are a stranger. Basically kidnapped him (no, he wouldn't elaborate that he coaxed you into taking him with you) and made threats to harm him. A stranger he would leave behind as soon as he got his answers and could go back to his universe.

The ash brown cat heard the water turning up again. The hand on his neck never leaving. Merciful you faced the spray away from him. He half expected a full on face splash for his little stunt he just pulled and you following through with your promise you made earlier. 

“Just how did you end up this way?”, you mused to yourself more than him. Honey, if only he knew. The meaning in more ways than one. 

The water gently sprayed his paws first and then his whole body. The light flow of the water was like a breath of fresh air. Calming and soothing, it washed away the sood and dirt in his otherwise pristine fur. As well as in his mind. Back to logically and rationally thinking about his situation.

All he could do was meow at you to make you see that he listened.

“Yeah, not helping much buddy. I don't understand cat”, you giggled and put a bit of shampoo in your hands. 

Again this buddy. For crying out loud, stop calling him that. He was not your friend nor a good acquaintance you could call that! 

In retaliation he bit your hand that was about to lather him up in soap. Immediate regret greeted his taste buds and you just laughed harder. 

“Suits you right. Bite me one more time, mister”, you grinned as you quickly went through his fur and got the sticky dirt out. Carefully and with a lot of probing, squeezing together and combing your finger through his fur you managed to make it smooth again. The flooring of the shower started to get coloured in a disgusting brown and grey. Small pebbles falling off of him. 

All through it, Caleb stood still. His body relaxing, him just letting you do what you have to do. The feeling of wet clothes leaving as soon as the water hit his skin and god damn, you were good at massages. He didn't realise how beaten up his body was and stiff in some places. This was heaven. 

Out of his control, he began to purr. 

“That's the good shit, huh?”, you said in a hushed voice, your hands still getting out knots without making it hurt.

Caleb nodded to your statement. This was really it. Water hit his body once more, a little bit warmer this time around.

“Alright, mister. One more time and then you are free.” 

Whatever you say, woman. He could just die right now. The ash brown cat wouldn't mind. He was in bliss. Your expert fingers making him forget that he actually still needed a way to tell you who he is and getting answers. 

This time a different shampoo made him bubbly. Slowly he opened his eyes, only to be hit by your hands on either side of his cheeks. Holding his face so tenderly like he was made out of glass. When was the last time he got hold like this? Like he was the most precious thing the earth could grace? 

“Hey there, big guy”, you smiled and slowly rubbed his face with your thumbs. Getting it also cleaned. “You truly have beautiful eyes.” 

Caleb breath got stuck in his throat. Uh…back off? A bit too close for comfort. Hello? Uh? 

A bit flustered he tried to move his head away but you gently turned it back to you.

“No, you need a handsome face too. Come here”, you said and returned back to gently rubbing his cheeks and lathering up his head. 

“Yeah, there you go. Look at you. Such a handsome fella.” 

Just how many compliments have you given him? He was used to having women and men alike salivating after him, but straight out compliments? It made him short circuit. 

Once more water washed over him. This time his face as well. Looking out for his ears and eyes you washed the foam away. The water stopped and a quick kiss was pressed to the crown of his head. What? 

“Wait here, mister”, he somehow registered you say. Was this violation? Assaulting, or did he like it? More confusion entered his brain. Breathing, he should be breathing. 

Moments later he felt the fluffy feeling of a towel upon him. Gently but steady you patted him dry. Sometimes ruffling to get friction into his fur to get more water out. After a while you seemed satisfied with your drying off, so you got up again and he out of the shower. 

Exhaustion tackled away the state of relaxation in him. The stark contrast of the humified, warm air in the shower and now being out of it made his small body shiver. Closing his eyes, he listened for what you are doing. Clinking and a few things got pushed aside, a cupboard opened and closed somewhere to his left. Not much later you were back in front of him. 

“Hm, is someone getting tired?”, you asked in a soft voice and with a hand full of affection stroked along his cheek.

Yeah, you could say that. The experiences, happenings, tumultuous feelings from today finally caught up with him. 

“Come on, buddy. I don’t know how much you like a blow dryer but you need to be properly dry before you get sick”, you explained. 

Mh okay…it made Caleb remember the times he gave the same treatment to MC. He wanted to laugh that he was the receiving end today. No one before even tried to attempt to do it for him. 

With no fight left in him, he let himself get picked up tenderly and placed on the bathroom sink. The whirring of the blow dryer starting soon after. Warm air washed over him, his eyes still closed. Just let him have this moment. This moment of care and tenderness, of not worrying for a bit, carefree maybe. For once not the one doing it all on his own. 

“You are such a handsome balinese cat. The audacity to hide that, hm?”, you said in between. “Now your owners will recognise you.”

Sorry to tell you, princess. There will be no owners but regardless did he appreciate your care. Your help. 

A balinese cat? That’s what he turned into? Interesting. This universe right here had an ironic sense of humor. Balinese cats were usually affectionate and playful. Things Caleb only was with his childhood friend. The only one he truly was close to. 

Your hands left his body and he was dry again. Caleb was now as fluffy as the towel you dried him off with. He could only assume you were putting away the blow dryer. Would he dare to look? Look at himself in this form? Maybe he would wake up then and he could laugh about it with MC, what a fucked up dream he had. 

So he turned to the mirror in front of the sink. An ash brown cat stared back at him. Black ears, whiskers and a black out right arm. The other three paws were also black, as the signature of a balinese cat. In his black face glimmered his own violet eyes he saw countless times before. Shining with the same intensity in lavender hues, strong blue lilac tones and the splatter of gold at the bottom. 

Ah, so it’s real. He is a cat. This is how you saw him. A pretty little kitty with full, soft fur and an even fluffier tail to accompany him with. 

He saw you approach in the mirror and he knew what was coming. He was getting picked up again, right? Okay, let's get it over with.

“Do you recognise yourself in the mirror?”, you wondered out loud. Mh duh, obviously. Caleb watched you stretching your back. A crack sounded through the bathroom and you let out a groan. Yo, you good there?

In these few seconds you sounded and looked a lot older than you were and Caleb blamed the exhaustion you must feel yourself. The spirit you showed earlier in trying to catch him must have drained all your energy you had left and Caleb respected you a bit for that. Fighting for what you assumed your responsibility. He let out a small laugh inwardly. Amused by his own actions and letting you see what normally was reserved for only one person.

“Alright, I leave you alone now, my brave fighter”, you smiled tiredly at him. “Gotta make some food.”

Huh? Okay...then...? Thanks?

Caleb inspected him for a few minutes more. Baffled and astonished with his new body. Would he become human again? Could he become human in this world? Would he only return to normal when he went back? How could he go back? Would you even know? You seemed ordinary. Living a simple life with a small reprieve in a game he was unfortunate to appear in. 

He sighed and patted after you. 

The rest of the evening flew past rather uneventful. Caleb thanked the gods that you didn’t have cat food immediately at home. Otherwise he would have started the next fight. Instead you served him some grinded beef with an egg in it. Raw, might he add but he chose against it to get angry at it. For you he was a cat. For now, he would let you believe it as well. But as soon as tomorrow came his plan would start. 

First he would test out if he still got his evol in this world. If he could manage that, he could show you how he manipulated certain things and that would be enough to understand that he was no simple cat or a cat at all for that matter. If he didn’t have his evol? Well, then he needed to find another way. No more blindly tapping on tablets and charade games. Clear and no misunderstandings for you. Caleb would make it crystal clear that he was himself. 

Something that did happen that evening that blew the wind out of his sails was, that you decided actually, for a fact, for real, to name him…Caleb. 

“I mean, you do have his eyes, you know?”, you explained your reasoning. “And if and when I find your owners you get your old name back anyway. It’s not like you will get used to it, right buddy?”

Count him flabberghasted, in utter disbelief. Didn’t you earlier in the evening say yourself, that this would be an awful idea? That you would have to be very lonely to be even considering that? Don’t lie to him. He remembers word for word. 

“Nobody would know that it comes from a otome game”, you rambled on. “And it’s not like you would mind.”

Does he? Caleb was conflicted. Yes, no, maybe? On one hand, yes it’s his name. The name he got. The one he was born with, and on the other hand? You didn’t see that name as anything more than from a character you liked. In the end, he accepted your name choice. One step at the time, right? He got the name down, now he needed everything else. 

The whole funny side with this rather ridiculous turn of your both lives was: 

You both needed each other, you just don’t know it yet.

tag list: @bookworrm1999 ; @luna-looniesblog ; @dummiebunny @roscpctals99 ; @mcdepressed290

~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*

Hey and welcome back to this story. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Any feedback is always appriciated, as long as it's constructive.

Thank you, beautiful soul for reading <3

[treatmelikeasmut]

This Journey of Ours

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Viktor x AFAB!Reader//Modern!AU

CW: Pregnancy, fluff, passing mention of postpartum

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Kind of wrote this on a whim. Just something small and cute that came to mind!

Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog your favorite fics <3

__

You stared at the clock, then at the time on your cellphone. Both read 11:48 PM. Of all the days for Viktor to stay late at the lab, it had to be today. Your knee bounced rapidly, impatiently. Gaze lingering on the TV, though you had no idea what was playing. Some show you swore for ages you’d get around to watching and never did. Now the volume was so low it was barely a hum. It joined the anxiety buzzing in the back of your skull.

Once again, you looked down at the object in your lap.

POSITIVE stared back at you. As it had for the last two days. No matter how many times you put the test down or hid it away in a box, that word remained. For two days nerves wrapped you in nausea, or maybe that was just the morning sickness talking. You were pregnant. The reality hardly set in. It just couldn’t seem to sink into your brain with any form of permenace. You were growing an entirely newly life that hadn’t existed before. That grew from two microscopic halves and would eventually become a whole new being.

You checked the clock again, then your cell phone. 11:53 PM. You had texted Jayce that morning, asking for him to muscle Viktor out of the lab early. You didn’t tell him a reason, only that you wanted your husband home before midnight. He had replied that it would be easy. Given the hour, it appeared it hadn’t been.

Chewing the inside of your lip, you looked at the test again. POSITIVE was still there. What would Viktor think? Children were a subject that was danced around in your household. The stance on it should’ve been made clear before your marriage. But was never established.

11:57 PM - the sound of a key being jammed into the front door lock. It was still three minutes to midnight, Jayce got lucky this time. A muttered curse came from the entry way. Then the uneven gait of Viktor’s footsteps as he came down the hall. They stopped at the entrance to the living room.

“Love, you’re still awake,” Viktor observed. He came up behind the couch, kissing the top of your head. “It’s late, you need your rest.”

“I like to stay up and wait for you,” you told him, praying your voice was steady.

“You don’t have to do that.” He came around and sat on the couch, leaning his cane against the arm. He looked at you with that smug expression you loved. “Though, I will admit - coming home and seeing you so immediately after a long day is my favorite.”

You smiled briefly, and Viktor’s expression changed. The test was pressed between your thighs, keeping it from sight. It was a hard rigid against the soft flesh that grew more uncomfortable the longer he stared at you. Your husband was sharp as ever, even as tired as he was. You never could keep anything away from that sharp gaze.

“Something is wrong,” Viktor stated, eyes searching. His hand sought yours, holding in on the cushion between you. “What is it?”

You drew in a shaking breath, staring down at your woven fingers. Your heart was in your throat, clawing at your ribs. You were sick with it. Even the tips of your ears burned.

“What…” you started. “What do you think about kids?”

Viktor sucked in a sharp breath, stilling in his seat. His fingers clamped aorund yours a little harder. “In general? Or…as in us?”

You swallowed, mouth tacky. “Us.”

“I…well, I -” He couldn’t seem to find the words, gaze wandering to the TV. The grinding of the gears in his mind almost audible. He muttered something under his breath. Then said, “I thought I had the count wrong. But I did not.”

You knew Viktor tracked your menstral cycles. It was even on a calendar on your fridge. He must’ve been doing the math in his head. Even being semi-irregular, your period exceedingly late.

“You’re pregnant,” he stated, turning back to you.

There was no doubt in his face. He was as sure about this as if he’d told you the sky was blue. In response, you pulled out the test. It still said POSITIVE. He took it from you with a shaking hand. Viktor was quiet for a long time, just staring at the digital screen. Like he was daring it to change its mind. You knew it wouldn’t.

“I know we didn’t talk about it before,” you admitted. “We should’ve…so, what do you think?”

Viktor didn’t move, replying sensibly, “That we will call the OB in the morning to set up and ultrasound and ensure all is well.”

You nodded. “And…other than that? I’d like to know what’s going on in Husbandland right now.”

Viktor’s eyes bounced to you, holding your gaze for but a moment, before they turned back to the test. “Do you think we are ready?”

“They say you’re never really ready for kids.”

Viktor’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “If I ask something, will you be truthful, my love?’

You squeezed the hand you were holding. “Always.”

“Will I be a terrible father? You know I never -” He cut himself off at the thought.

“I think the fact you’re nervous about it means you’re already a good one.”

The corner of his lip twitched, but his face remained blank. “I always figured if it was meant for me, then children would come. If it was not, then I would be fine with that too. - The same as before I met you. I thought that if love was meant for me, then it would find me. If I was to remain alone, then I would reconcile with that as well. Yet we are married and this test tells me that a little one will come. There is a surprising amount of fear in that.”

“I think you’re going to do great.” You scooted across the couch until your legs touched. Then leaned your head against his shoulder, your folded hands resting on your thigh. You stared at the test with him now. The only sounds in the room the murmur of the TV and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“Jayce will be stupid excited,” Viktor finally uttered. Louder, he asked, “But what about work? Long nights in the lab cannot be avoided forever. They will happen. You will be alone.”

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

“That is not fair you.”

“It’s what happens when I have a brilliant scientist as a husband.”

Viktor hummed. “I will need to do better…”

“You and I will figure it out down the line.” You squeezed his hand again.

Viktor’s cane clattered loudly as it slipped from its resting place. You both flinched. Viktor stared at it. “I will not be able to run with them. To do many things other fathers can.”

“Viktor,” you cooed, coaxing him to look at you. Panic was leaking through a careful mask. His eyes were wide, breathing a bit more rapid. You took his face in your hands, he leaned into the touch. “Our kid isn’t going to care about the stuff you can’t do. But they’ll always remember the things you can.”

“Like what?”

You leaned in a kissed him chastly. “Like vinegar and baking soda volcanos, and showing up to their games if they’re in sports, reading to them before bed - that sort of thing. They’ll just want time with you, how ever you can. - I’m also scared. What if I mess up? What if they don’t think I’m someone they can trust and come to when they get older? What if I accidentally feed them something they’re allergic to? I’m terrified of getting postpartum and doing something heinous.”

“I have no doubt you will as wonderful a parent as you are a partner. Whatever you need, I will do my best to accommodate.” Viktor cupped your cheek in one hand, running his thumb lightly across your skin. “I let you down enough as it stands. I don’t want to let the little one down, too.”

“You never let me down,” you whispered, a clot building in your throat. You swallowed against it. You were not going to cry right now. “You’ve frustrated me, sure - but never let me down.”

Viktor chuckled, the panic finally easing up. His eyes wandered back to the test. “So, it’s real and truly.”

You nodded. “I peed on two boxes worth of tests in the last three days, it was like Juno in here. They’re all stashed in a shopping bag under the bathroom sink if you want to see them.”

“That’s a bit overkill, don’t you think?” he teased, smirking.

Warm relief flodded through you, all your muscles relaxed for the first time in days. You laughed, shrugging. “Maybe - I wanted to be sure. Really sure before I told you. It’s like one of your experiments, right? You have to be sure you can replicate your results before you announce your findings.”

Viktor laughed rather heartily at that. “I suppose.”

“I’ll call the OB in the morning.”

Viktor nodded. “And I will make a list of questions for her. I have much to learn.”

“I’ll have to warn them when I make the appointment,” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You’re going to go overboard on research, aren’t you?”

“I would never dream of it,” scoffed Viktor, “I just want to make sure we are prepared. There is nothing wrong with that.”

You kissed him again. “Just make sure to enjoy the journey, too.”

Tentatively, Viktor placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it through your shirt. You didn’t have a bump yet, but he seemed mesmerized all the same. He leaned his forehead to yours, then pressed a kiss to your lips.

“As long as the journey is by your side.”

~

[visionsofmagic]

✤ rougher please [yuuji + reader + sukuna] ✤

―❛ age up yuuji, pussy eating, cum eating, vessel switch, gentle, rough, harsh, humiliation, pet names, swearing, slapping, licking, biting, eating, sucking, two tongues, porn without a plot [?] • 987 words • just came into my mind & couldn't resist the urge to write. • [masterlist]

you watched how the pink hair disappeared between your thighs, leaving his black part visible more than before, after closing his sparkling eyes with excitement yet you paid attention to his tongue in your folds in the particular moment.

itadori yuuji was so good with his tongue, playing with your folds, licking all the juice your clenching pussy was making, chest raising up and down rapidly at how well he was fucking you with his hot tongue that entered inside, earning a yelp from you.

he chuckled childishly at the action, hands still holding your inner thighs, separating the legs aside so that the pink pussy of yours was wide open for him to eat out.

eyes closed, head thrown to behind only to kneel down closer to him when he began to make fucking noises that sent jolts into your slit. “mmmhh - aghhh mhh - fuc aggh! taste so gooood - shiii -“ his tongue began to go in and out in a slow yet effective rhythm. “aaagh pretty pussy - the fucking prettiest pussy!”

hand inside his hair’s folds, pulling it upwards - a source of balance to stay still after feeling so high because of his now wet tongue, leaving lewd sounds mixing with your pleases - moans and his. “yuuji!”

he chuckled once again, listening cute voices you make.

you stayed like that for a certain time before you put your legs on his wide shoulders, pushing him harder into your pussy so that his nose began to scratch the tip of your pussy - euphoric!

looking down at his face, you see him paying all his focus to enjoy the moment without hurting you.

smiling widely, you caressed his hair, making him look up around your face with his sleepy yet shining eyes. “rougher yuuji - fuuck - please please pleas - uh - oohhh -!”

you lost it when he began to work on your pussy again, only this time - it felt different and you were so high to understand the reason until he left a deep chuckle this time - the sound of it didn’t belong to yuuji, no, even the body wasn’t full of yuuji now - it was someone else’s and you see it when you look down after earning a slap on the pussy - what?

“slut,” he said, the fucking king of curses the moment you witnessed the marks on his face, eyes became four in an instant, crimson color had menace - not excitement, maybe a bit of it; lips that were covered with juice you made smirking devilishly. “the brat can’t go any rougher, but I can.”

the hands on your thighs got heavier, his grip got tighter enough to leave bruises, and the breaths you had no longer functioning.

“fuuuck!” you said, mind didn’t comprehend the situation you were in because how could it? especially after you earned another slap on the slit with the following bites. “yuu -“

a lick that took away the last brain cell from you with a slap on the thigh, “no fucking yuuji. that brat can’t do shit - not like me. did you forget whore?”

the difference hit you like a ball, yet, you showed no weakness, you just moaned his name this time when his tongue went from bottom to top until it reached the tip of the pussy, sucking the flesh as if it were the most delicious thing he can taste.

“sukuna - aggghhhh - ‘kuuna!”

he laughed at you without breaking the contact with your pussy, a hand reaching into your mouth and your messy brain couldn’t make a meaningful statement about it until the hand covered your mouth, bitter taste of the palm changed into something more - a fucking mouth of sukuna as he kept sucking, licking and eating your messed pussy.

“fucking dumb slut,” his bitter words didn’t affect you- already got used to it as you kept kissing the tongue on his palm, closing your eyes, losing yourself in the moment; a mouth kissing you, biting the lips, tongue entering into the wet mouth that leaves salvia behind whereas the other one does the same with your pussy - biting it, entering it, getting wet in sync.

already lost in paradise and hell at the same moment, your moans no longer heard, shut down by the mouth you’re kissing.

that mouth left yours, hand traveled through your body from chin to neck, breasts to abdomen ‘till it reached its final destination to join the other one by licking and leaving salvias - a few bites too, in every place it visited on your body.

no matter how much you tried to hold decency, it vanished in thin air when sukuna began to fuck you with his two tongues after putting his palm at the bottom of your pussy. “agghhhh, mmhhhh - ‘kuna, ‘is soo muuch - I - I can’ - mmmhhh - fuuagghh!”

never listened, never left, never got gentle.

he kept going only to stop when you cum hard on his tongues, dripping into them and to the floor shamelessly, screaming louder - his name was the only thing you comprehend.

leaving you there, the body already collapsed into the bed under you, he rose up on his feet, fingers collecting the last drop of your cum from the lips, disappearing inside his mouth as he licked and drank it, saying ‘hmm’.

“tasteful,” he smirked, looking at the mess he made out of you with pride. “as always, my cute little whore,” he then put his hands on your sides, kneeling down to your level, smirk still on his face as he caressed your cheeks, “would fuck you now, makin’ you paralyzed for a few days but the brat is being so noisy. it’s his time to fuck you this time, but,” he winked - oh that bastard! “the next time will be mine.”

💙💜

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ^^

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier

paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made

warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)

author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)

༺═──────────────═༻

The moment ‘nico 🏒🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.

The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.

A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”

“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”

She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”

Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”

Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.

“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”

Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.

“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”

They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”

She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”

He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.

“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”

It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.

A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.

Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”

Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”

“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”

She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.

They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.

There is no way he means that.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.

“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”

Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”

Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”

He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”

With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.

She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.

It’s time to find out.

Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.

“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”

Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”

She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.

The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.

He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”

“And you’re sober?”

“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”

It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”

Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.

Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.

This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.

He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.

It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”

Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”

He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”

“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”

Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.

“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“I believe you now.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[bywons]

𖦹 ICE, ICE, BABY! — PSH

⌕ where park sunghoon takes you on an ice skating date

pairing. bf!park sunghoon x f!reader wc. 0.5k tw/cw. kissing genre. fluff sru's note. requested ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !

the chilly winter air blooms goosebumps beneath your skin, eventually drying your lips which makes you lick them yet again. you wish you had brought lip balm with you to moisten your dehydrated lips, but a kiss from park sunghoon was just enough.

“c'mon, scared of a little ice skating?”, sunghoon smirks, suppressing a small giggle within himself as he watches you hold on to his shoulders for dear life to avoid a devastating crash against the ice floor beneath you.

“easy to say when you're a pro”, you scoff, your body gliding around the ice rink solely by the support of your boyfriend.

your ice skates did a horrible job of keeping you steady on your feet. your equilibrium constantly disrupts you, causing wobbly legs which makes you stumble, loud gasps leaving your mouth. or maybe you are at fault here really, first day at ice skating and expecting to ace it so quick? yeah, not happening.

but what did happen next had you screaming inside, and melting outside. your boyfriend of just four months, park sunghoon, kisses your cheek and paints it deeper, as he shoots the most endearing smile down at you, his hands wrapping tighter around your waist.

“does this help?”, he whispers. yeah well that does help you regain your stability and guide through the ice better indeed, your knees aren't wobbly anymore, the toe blades a lot more still.

but with that mesmerising face of his, not a single brain cell of yours could focus on the ice rink.

“kinda, i still c-can’t do it on my own though”, the stutter gives away your faux confidence and you mentally curse yourself.

“but i think you're doing just fine?”, sunghoon chuckles, letting his grip on your waist loosen up. and when you loose balance without his support again, it evolves to a laughter.

“totally not funny ‘hoon!”, you roll your eyes, your hands returning to his forearms to grip them harder, “why'd you bring me here to show off your ice skating skills and not even help me?”

“well maybe i also wanted to show off my girl at the ice rink?”, sunghoon says with a smug smile, to which he receives another eye roll from you, this time accompanied with a blush as he brings you forward face to face.

“really funny, nobody even knows us here”, you scoff.

“they don't have to”, sunghoon whispers again, his hands clasping the either sides of your face and pulling you dangerously close to his face, his starry eyes lost in yours.

and it's just a moments’ wait before sunghoons lips find yours, falling magically into puzzle pieces. it's soft, stirring and warm, immediately giving you butterflies in your stomach. you don't know how long the kiss lasted but every second of it felt so embracing. just like home.

you are the first one to pull back from the kiss, face hot and flushed from the kiss, and you try to look at his face but he's still looking at you, specifically your lips with his comforting touch lingering on your cheeks. you gulp, trying to hold back his forearms to stabilise yourself again.

but in the search of his hands, you find none on you.

“hey!”, sunghoon squeals, giving you the biggest toothy grin, “the kiss helped you skate huh?”

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

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[walkingnearfoxes]

The Space Between the Lines (Homelander x Reader) - Chapter 3

1.7k words. 18+. Warnings for stalking and the Homelander being horny. She/Her Teacher Reader. 

There are a dozen teachers who would kill for this job. You’re just not sure that you’re one of them.

The Homelander had been watching you for weeks.

He didn't have much of a choice. He clearly couldn't trust Ashley and her merry band of mediocrity to pick an educator for Ryan. These "teachers" brought to him were either idiots, ugly as goddamn sin, or too busy shitting their pants at the sight of him to educate his son. One bald and sweaty winner was all three; he took care of that one. That dumbass wouldn't be teaching anyone any time soon.

Clearly, to ensure the best possible future for his son, the Homelander needed to step in. He looked at the curriculum. He re-mapped the lessons with wide-eyed instructional designers. He looked at the resumes. He burned the resumes. He asked Ashley whether she was picking these fuckers out of the sewers or the prisons.

And then, to her luck, she found you.

At first, he wasn't very impressed. You were young, first of all. Educated, sure. Cute, even. But young. Weren’t the best teachers supposed to be ancient? Set in their ways?

"She won an award for education, sir," Ashley had offered at his evident ambivalence. Your file was displayed across the screens of the conference room. The Homelander sat back in his usual chair, gloved fingers drumming at the arms.

He rolled his eyes. "Did she win by having a fucking pulse? Honestly, Ashley, after the zombies you sent me-"

But then she clicked on the video that came with your award profile. It showed a clip of one of your lessons - an introduction to the War of 1812 with a rambunctious group of middle schoolers. He would have fried them immediately, but you were the image of calm. 

It was the way you held yourself that caught his attention. You had energy, but you were always in control. You answered each question the little shits had for you concisely and even joked with one or two of them. When a student reached for the cell phone bulging in their jean pocket, your glare across the room was enough to stop them and give you a mumbled apology.

You cared. You cared deeply.

He stared at the screen for another minute, his gaze following you across the screen. Finally, he nodded. "Bring her in."

Ashley looked like she might just come from relief. "Absolutely, sir," She breathed and turned to the computer for all of two seconds before her dirt brain got distracted. "I-I should mention, she doesn't have a background in math or science-"

"Oh, boo hoo." The Homelander drawled as he stood. "Now we won't know how a plant fucks itself. Half that shit isn't real, Ashley. Just bring her in."

He didn't take part in the interviews. He had actual work to do and lives to save. The notes that Ashley gave him were all things he already knew. You were quick, intelligent, and wanted to make a difference. No shit. He didn't need an hour-long conversation to know that. He knew that keeping an eye on you was much better than any performance task. He did the actual work.

It was comical to him how little people paid attention. He was invisible to all the ants if he didn't want to be spotted. He easily flew from building to building, neighborhood to neighborhood, all to learn more about cute, unsuspecting little you. You weren’t hard to find; Vought had all of your information before you even applied.

His findings were boring as fuck at first. You had a small group of friends, you read all the fucking time, but you kept yourself in shape. He appreciated the last part, at least. But you weren’t as refreshing as he thought you would be from the teaching video. The only thing that slightly caught his curiosity was the mysterious relationship to your family. Your mother called about twice a week - sometimes more. From his x-ray vision and superior hearing through the ancient walls of your apartment, he learned enough to know your family didn't live far away, but you made no effort to visit them. Every time your mother called, he saw your lips thin and your eyes narrow. You usually were doing something else while speaking to her - browsing the Internet, pacing the living room, even punching a pillow. Why, he wondered? Maybe mommy and daddy were neglectful of you. A favored sibling, maybe? Drugs? There are limitless possibilities, but you never spoke about it to anyone. Was it a minor issue then, or were you so selfless that you didn't want to bother anyone with your problems? His mind drifted to the matter more than once. He didn’t quite comprehend what would make someone distance themselves from their blood when it was so close at hand.

Then, there was the run.

You very stupidly liked to go for runs at night. Alone. With headphones on. It was like you were asking to be gutted. Sure enough, only about two weeks into his watch, a mindless oaf of a man found you at a stoplight. From his standing perch on a nearby rooftop, his body cloaked in shadow, the Homelander rolled his eyes. 

Was he going to have to save you already? Christ.

But then, he noticed your movements. The man was to your back, but you had already turned off your music and lowered your headphones. You already knew he was there. 

"You lost, baby girl?" The man murmured, stopping a mere five inches from your back. "I can bring ya home and warm ya up..."

You turned to look at him, and the smile on your face - a grin full of teeth - wasn't polite. It was a warning. "I'm just fine, buddy. Now walk away."

The man bristled - he had a good foot of height on you and about three times the fucking body mass - but then your smile disappeared. The Homelander saw the way your eyes changed. There was something darker. Something he was intimately familiar with.

The man swallowed, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and shuffled backward. "Right. Sorry. Ma'am."

You watched him for a long moment, ensuring he truthfully intended to leave you alone. Once you were sure, the Homelander watched as you put your headphones back in and carried on as if nothing had happened.

Oh.

Oh.

You weren't just a cute little teacher. There was something else.

His lips twitched upwards in approval. There was another twitch down south, but that wasn't too surprising. He’d always admired strong women. He could take care of that later; the few “accidental” peaks of you in your shower had given him plenty of material.

So, he told Ashley to hire you and continued to keep an eye on you. It wasn't out of surveillance now; it was out of curiosity. He didn't see another glimpse of that side of you again, but that would come with time. You weren't perfect. Your clothes were boring, you couldn't nail down a signature scent, and he loathed your roommate.

But that look. He could do something with that look.

And so he sat and watched as you taught his son. He had to admit that you were good. Ryan was paying attention, and he was smiling. He was smiling a little too much - he certainly never smiled that much with him - but what was important was that he was learning. What was also important was that you were slowly becoming more at ease. You had stopped your adorably nervous glances at him about 20 minutes ago, and adrenaline had stopped obnoxiously pumping through your body. He could barely detect the scent anymore. 

You were explaining how the colonists had grown independent from Britain when Ryan's brows began furrowing.

You, the diligent educator that you are, notice right away. "What's up?"

"I'm...a little confused," Ryan admits.

You smile encouragingly. "Well, share with the class. It's my job to help with that."

Ryan points to his textbook. The Homelander can see from across the table that he's touching an image of a plantation. "You said George Washington had slaves?"

You hesitate, and your eyes move to glance at the Homelander. He says nothing, the same polite smile on his face. You look back to Ryan. "That's right."

Ryan's frown deepens. "He wanted the colonies to be free but he had slaves?"

Uh oh.

The Homelander laughs, and it's the first sound he's made this entire lesson. Ryan meets his eyes immediately, and you barely mask a flinch. "Whoa there, buddy," He says, standing up from his place at the table. "It's a little more complicated than that."

There's barely a beat after his words before you reply. "Yeah, their whole idea of freedom is a bit...convoluted."

The Homelander blinks and raises a brow. "What do you mean, teach?"

Your smile is polite, but your eyes are a bit less so. "I mean that Ryan is making a good point. It's a bit hypocritical."

He scoffs and steps forward, his hands moving to his hips. "Are you calling our founding father a hypocrite?"

There it is. There's that look in your eye. Without missing a beat, you nod your head. "Yes."

He hadn’t expected to see it again so soon - certainly not directed at him. But there it is.

There is a long silence interrupted only by Ryan's fingers anxiously tapping against the table. It's death to the Homelander's eardrums, but he doesn't care. He's staring at you, waiting for you to flinch or murmur an apology like all those other mudpeople did. You don't.

"Well, on that exciting note, I think we can call it for today," He announces, turning to give his son a warm smile. "Ryan, you earned yourself some Tournament of Heroes time."

Ryan turns to look at you - a decision that makes the Homelander's fists clench on his hips - and you smile back at the boy. "Same time tomorrow?"

Ryan smiles shyly back. "Yeah. Definitely." He stands up slowly, closes his notebook, and looks at his father. "Do you wanna come play, Dad?"

The Homelander grins. "Sure thing. You set up the VS5 and I'll be there in a jiff," But he looks back at you with a wink. "I just gotta have a word with Miss Benedict Arnold here before she rushes out on me."

The way your pulse skyrockets makes his heart sing.

[httpsghostie]

Enemy pt 2

pt 1

if I saw him walking towards me like this I would run

I'm speechless this is so long I'ms orry I got carried away

Summary: you put yourself in a delicate situation with your superiors despite knowing more and end up in wrong hands.

Word Count: 4,3k

Warnings: dubcon, smut, König x female!reader, strong language, blood, gore, violence, knife play, spanking, dacryphilia, edging, unprotected piv sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), no use of y/n

masterlist

You've underestimated him, that's for sure. But you found out too late.

You found out when you were walking around, trying to find your captain to discuss some issues, and instead found a pile of dead soldiers and a pool of blood.

The door to his cell was ajar and of course the lights were off. That fucking bastard, how was it so easy for him to take down four trained soldiers? And how did he get away from the chains?

Maybe it happened when he was being fed, maybe he was strong enough to break the chains. And even if he was, why didn't he snap out of them when you were literally milking the info out of him?

You reach for your pistol and carefully follow the dark hallway to his cell after calling for backup, but you decided they would take the time you couldn't waste with this bastard. On the way, you rolled one of the soldiers with your foot, he'd been stabbed on his vital parts, and you deduced he did this to every other one of your guys.

Your ears ringed, your blood boiling through your veins with anxiousness, but at times like this you couldn't show your weaknesses. You were in it until the end.

You stand in front of the door, your fear getting even worse. You know you shouldn't show it. He smelled fear, he got off from that, of how your pretty eyes widened at his sight.

In an instant, the door is kicked open by your right foot, and before you could inspect the cell, your body was thrown on the ground in a loud thud, a heavy weight collapsing onto you, pinning you down on the floor.

Your head got dizzy from hitting the concrete too hard, but you could recognize that man from a mile away. You could recognize his nauseating scent even if someone brainwashed you for years. 

He pressed your weak body with his weight as his blood covered hands caressed the black fabric on your mask, slowly lifting it up to reveal your puffy lips, waiting for him. He can't help but smile at the memories of your lips wrapped around his girthy cock as he held your head in place. He wants to do it again. But not now, now he's worried about other things.

"You're so pretty when you keep your mouth shut." He runs his finger along your lips, you could almost feel the metallic taste of blood. "I want to kill you so bad, slit that beautiful throat you got." He grabs you by the neck.

"Then do it." You said with gritted teeth.

"And end the fun of hunting you?" He pushed you back on the floor as your face started to get red. "I'll give you another chance to live, how merciful I am." He laughs, standing up and leaving you there, almost like the way you left him.

He disappears in the dark, and the last thing you remember were his eyes piercing through your soul, marking you forever, and your vision blurs. There were dry tears on the corners of your eyes, and your mind was filled with red.

You wake up in a white room and as soon as you open your eyes, you're blinded by the bright lights that reflect on the white walls and floor. There's no one with you. Great, they didn't even bother to put a recruit to watch out for you, ouch.

When you're prepared to leave the room, a doctor sees your movement and says he's glad you've finally woken up. He tells you about a concussion, and you listen to it until it slowly starts to sound like a distant babble, so far away, and your brain can't handle any more information as someone lurks behind the doctor.

He. It was him. He was there for you again. He was going to get you.

He's standing behind the man, holding a knife up to his face. His gaze. You can only feel how creepy his gaze is on you and how intimidating he looks with his gigantic size.

You know he's smiling, of course he's smiling, he's fucking insane, that's why. He's not leaving you alone, he's going to get you, he's going to kill you. You're gonna pay for what you did.

And the thoughts don't leave your injured brain as you try to run but your body does not respond to any of your commands.

He's there, he's going to kill you.

He's going to kill you.

"-and some might experience hallucinations." You blink rapidly and he's gone. You look back to the doctor. "Are you alright?" He asked you as he saw your sweaty forehead and your out of breath figure.

"Mhm." You cut him off, reaching for the clothes on the side of your hospital bed. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A day. Listen, you should rest." He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder and you push him away.

"I can't afford to rest."

You get dressed quickly and leave through the white corridors, trying to find your phone in the never ending pockets of your vest. Your head was hurting like hell, you felt your brain pounding on your skull. 

You're going to end his life.

"Tell me you got that motherfucker!" You screamed on the phone as your captain picked up.

"Listen, you need to calm d-"

"I am fucking calm! Where the hell were you when he killed our men? Where the hell are you now?" Your anger makes your head hurt even more.

"I can't talk right now." You were able to hear other voices in the call, like someone else was talking in the room he was in.

"Then shove your dead men in your fucking ass!" You scream again, throwing the phone on a wall. Everyone around looks at you and you feel embarrassed, picking your phone up and shoving it in your pocket.

The sun falls down and you're met with a beautiful night and a sky full of stars. But that sight irritated you deeply when you had spent the last five hours looking at it when you couldn't sleep. He always came back. He always found his way into your brain. That manic look on his eyes whenever he had control over the situation. It's okay, you could handle it.

"You'd look so pretty with a knife up to your throat."

"What?" You blink fast, looking frantically to the sides and trying to find him lurking in the shadows. He wasn't there. He wasn't real. You shake off the thoughts, taking another long sip of the now cold coffee in a bottle right by your side.

But as they say, idle hands are the devil's tools. You couldn't stay still, how the fuck did he escape? How did he break those chains and most importantly, how did he break that iron door?

You wander around the hallways, finding your way to what used to be his cell. The floor still had a blood stain that couldn't be washed away, and thankfully they didn't care enough about such a thing. Holding a flashlight to the door, you see it wasn’t forced, so maybe he escaped when someone got in.

You take a deep breath before entering the cell, leaving a foot holding the door from the inside. It had a mechanism of automatically locking when closed, and there was no way to open from the inside. 

The dim light is enough to illuminate the room, but you need to get closer to the chains if you want to examine them.

"Fuck." You mumble, trying to stretch your best to get to it, but it's too far from your hands. In a blink of a moment, the foot that supported your weight slipped and you fell to the ground, leaving the door unattended.

You look desperately to it, but it stays open. You sigh in relief, standing on your feet again and moving closer to the chains. You pick them up, but they have no sign of damage, someone unlocked his cuffs.

It's strange, this doesn't make sense at all.

Fear starts to settle in your mind and you think you should leave by now. As you leave the cell, your heart starts pounding mercilessly in your chest and your vision blurs. Your head is spinning and your legs betray you, making you fall on your knees and hands.

Bullet wound.

Bullet wound?

The night creeps onto your brain, you rolling the guard on his back, watching his lifeless body turn. Besides having stab wounds on the stomach, he had a bullet wound on the cheek, wait, what? Was it necessary to shoot him if he was dead already? Or was it necessary to stab him? And either way, how? König didn't have any guns, let alone a knife. Well, of course he could've snatched it from them, but how?

Plus the guard's cheek wound seemed to have come from a bigger caliber than what they dealt with down there.

This was suspect as fuck.

You regain consciousness, looking around, and you smile as your eyes meet with a red light from a security camera in the corner of the hallway.

But they wouldn't be so stupid, would they?

You sprint your way to the vigilance room, sighing as you face an at least easy obstacle. There was a guard there, of course, watching the cameras, but he seemed to be more interested in what you had to offer.

"Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes." You fake a smile, leaving the room. Like a needy man, he doesn't hesitate to go where you told him you'd be, and you lock him inside, saying you just need a few more minutes.

You try to get the images as fast as you could, putting them in a flash drive and running back to your room.

It seemed almost too easy.

As you're turning left in the hallway that leads to your room, you hit a wall, well, a man, but he was so tall and bulky he could be considered a wall.

"Where are you going in a rush in the middle of the night?" Ghost asks. Solid as a rock.

"Asking you the same thing." You scratch your head in embarrassment, he was too close for your liking.

"What you got there?" He points to your clenched fist, the flash drive was in your hand.

"Nothing." You say too fast, trying to get past him, he grabs your arm tightly, making you open your palm and yelp in pain, the small device falling on the ground. He stomps on it, smashing it on the ground, and gets even closer to your ear.

"Don't mess with them." He growls. "Go back to your room before you get yourself killed."

He knew something was up, and that confirmed your suspicions. He let you go and stood there looking at you getting away.

"'Cause you're gonna pay for it, maus." You turn back and he's still standing, holding both of his hands in front of him.

"What did you say?" You frown, walking back to him, ready to tear him apart.

"What? I didn't say anything?" He looks genuinely confused. "What's wrong with you, nitwit?" 

Aw, Ghost and his delicate words.

"Yeah, I hope you didn't say anything."

You couldn't give yourself rest, you've been awake since you woke up at the hospital a day ago. The footage was gone, there was no way you could get it back, Ghost knew about something, and you were close to finding out the truth.

But you didn't give up so easily, you needed to know what happened. 

While everyone else was getting breakfast, you went to the vigilance room again, trying not to get caught. The room was left alone for a few minutes as the guard miraculously had to go to the bathroom, you know, maybe it was the laxative you put in his coffee earlier.

You searched through the files and finally found the one you were looking for, the night he escaped.

The hallway was calm, a few men guarding the door to his cell. A man slowly approached them, and he wore a mask, but everyone could recognize him. The captain. What was he doing there?

They open the door for him and he gets in, there's a few minutes between him walking in and out, but when a guard opens the door, he's suddenly shot in the face. König walks out too, helping the captain take down the other guys.

It's pure brutality, and it's also so explicit. The violence of their hands committing such a crime, not hesitating to kill an innocent life for their own benefit. You hated them even more when you saw the captain's eyes widening, probably it was the moment you asked for backup on the radio. 

He gave König a little tap on the arm and said something, then ran to the opposite side, leaving König alone to do whatever he wanted to you.

Then why did he spare your life?

He could've killed you so easily, why did he decide to let you go?

"And end the fun of hunting you?" You remembered his words.

The door gets kicked open behind you and two soldiers drag you out of the room, you try to get away from their strong arms, kicking and trying to scratch their skin.

Ghost was walking by when he saw you, giving you a disappointed frown. You knew what he wanted to say, you saw it in his eyes.

I told you not to mess with them.

You went too deep.

They drag you to the captain's office, throwing you on a chair.

"It's enough, you know too much." 

When you think about biting back, you feel a stinging pain on your neck and the men holding you down. The pain was unbearable in your veins, like it was tearing you inside out, and soon your brain started to shut down.

Your head hurts when you wake up, and you panic when you feel your hands tied behind your back. You'd been tossed on a mattress, and your body was hurting more than usual, your stomach was hurting, you couldn't believe you were hungry in times like this.

You swallowed the weird taste on your mouth, looking around the room with half lidded eyes. Your head falls to the mattress once your eyes meet his and you sigh heavily, trying to shake off the hallucination.

"You know, this didn't have to go the hard way." You hear him say, you quickly turned your head and he was still there. "I told you'd be going to pay for that. You know how badly you humiliated me?" You chuckle.

"Aw, poor König." You laugh, but your laugh is cut as soon as he crouches in front of you, gripping your chin to face him. He makes you stay on your knees, and you gulp nervously.

"You really look prettier with your mouth closed." He throws you back on the mattress like you're made of paper and gets some silver tape from the chair. You widen your eyes, shaking your head from side to side. "Are you gonna shut up?" He lands a harsh slap to your face and you nod. "Good girl, maus. See? Not too late to learn."

He throws the tape back, grabbing you by the hair so you could stand. He's looking deeply into your eyes, and for a moment you fell for it. You didn't know if it was from the sedatives, but you fell for the way he looked at you.

"What's that puppy look for?" He asks, letting go of your hair. "I haven't even fucked you yet and you're already dumb?" He chuckles. 

You can't express how badly you want to give him a sarcastic response, but judging from your red cheek, he wouldn't be pleased by it.

He reaches for his knife and presses it right against your throat. You swallow hard, trying not to move.

"Can't help but remember how cute you look taking my cock. I think I might have to do it again." He moves the tip of the knife across your collarbone, then down to your chest, stomach, slowly stopping at your crotch.

You're looking at him with not a single thought behind your eyes, the pain in your head was gone miraculously, and it's like time has frozen. He's so tall, so masculine, so insane. Maybe your taste in men is completely unhinged, or maybe he was hot.

He moves behind you, one hand to your mouth and one holding the knife against your throat.

"You can scream, cry, and no one can hear you here." He really got off from your fear, and you feel his devious smile. "I can do whatever I want to you." He gives you a creepy laugh.

Your shirt is ripped off from you, leaving you in a sports bra that also got cut by his knife, letting your chest free from fabric. He runs the knife along your tits and smiles from how hard your nipples are.

Pants were also a thing he didn't want to see you in, but this time he just pulled them down, leaving you naked. He stood in front of you once again, eyeing you up and down, like you were to be his last meal.

God, this was so embarrassing. Humiliating.

He takes his gloves off after putting the knife on his boot, revealing his veiny hands that were at least double the size of yours, and runs an eager finger around your folds, chuckling when his fingers meet your sticky fluid.

"You're fucking wet." He inserts a finger into you without any warning and you moan, trying to close your legs. "I can't believe you're into this."

"Shut up." You grit your teeth and look at him through your eyebrows, trying to keep your balance. And there goes another red cheek, you swear you could taste the blood from a cut.

"Watch your mouth." 

He fingers you quickly, sometimes pausing to rub a few circles on your clit. He was enjoying the power he had over you, to watch your limbs get weak to his touch, to feel how wet he could make you without doing much.

You could feel something growing inside of your stomach, and showing it off would make him get his fingers away from you, but he saw it in your face.

He removes his fingers, slapping at your wet cunt, and makes you kneel for him. You whine, but there's not much time to complain when he's burying his cock down your throat. Thank God you don't have a gag reflex. He fucked your pretty mouth with so much taste, making you drool all over your tits.

He loved hearing the sounds you made, like your throat was made for him. He couldn't forget this feeling, that night when he met you, he wanted to live in that moment forever, him securing your head in place, pressing your body against that cold wall so you couldn’t get away from him, and coming right down your throat.

You cough when he pulls out, your face covered in tears and your own saliva. He pushed you on the mattress, spreading your legs further apart. He was so fucking hard, he needed to see how hungry your pussy was for his cock.

He pushes his pants further down, and pulls his shirt up only to expose his abdomen. His fat, girthy dick wanders on your wet folds before entering you in a long thrust. You suppress a moan, it's not like you've fucked anyone else that had such an advantage down there, it's hard to take him.

He holds your knees to your shoulders, increasing the pace on which he fucked you. You felt so good, so warm and especially tight, so fucking tight around him.

In a moment, he's pounding so hard into you that you can barely breathe, you feel the sweat sticking your bodies together, how his body hair stuck to his body with your slick, and how you're quickly reaching your high.

Why is it always written on your face?

"Not yet." You cry out as he leaves you empty, turning you to have your ass in the air for him. You tried to struggle, but he held your hips in place as he entered you at full speed, hitting your cervix repeatedly. He slapped and scratched your ass, leaving red marks. "I'm gonna ruin you, make you only ever want me." He growls as he takes the knife again, holding you close with his free hand as you try to escape him. "I'm gonna ruin you so bad that I'll be the only one you'll be willing to fuck."

His knife glides on your skin, pressing a little too hard for your liking, and you can't help but flex the muscles on your thighs as you feel it giving you a light scratch.

"Shh, shh, easy, maus. I’m not gonna kill you right now." He whispered and gripped your thigh way too hard. You winced in pain and he let go, lurking his hand around your body and pulling you close.

You've felt worse pains, but neither of them ever turned you on. This was something else. You had no clue on what you've been drugged with, but you lost every inch of self preservation you could ever have.

"Ahh, just like this." He moans, still fucking your brains out. "That's it, hase, let me hear you, hm?" Until now you've only let out soft whimpers, trying your best to keep quiet in fear he’d tape your mouth, pressing your lips together and scrunching your nose. "It's not like anyone else will hear you down here."

"Fuck, König." You finally cry, like you were holding your breath for hours. Your hands are touching his abs, nails digging on his flesh as he pushes past your physical limits. It’s such a strange feeling, he was definitely too big, too much to take, but at the same time you craved even more of his touches, like you were starving for any kind of touch.

“So pretty when you scream my name.” His hand takes a few soaked hairs off your face, then stops at your neck, squeezing tight.

“Please, it’s too much.” Your voice cracks and he throws your body on the mattress, your face buried in it, inhaling the sweet smell of dirt and making a tiny pool of tears.

“You didn’t seem to listen when I was the one asking you to stop.” His hands grabbed your waist and he pulled you down on his cock, like you were some kind of toy. He whimpered as his long fingers entered the tight hole of your ass, pumping it back and forth with his thrusts.

You could feel a burning sensation crashing against your skin as you reached your orgasm almost forcefully, contorting your face as your body was shaking uncontrollably. “See? And you wanted me to stop.”

“Shut up.” You mewled, and he wasn’t very happy about it.

König pulled you by your tied hands and stood in front of you, grasping your chin tightly.

“Why do you have to be so impolite when I’m trying to give you pleasure?” He lifted just a bit of his hood to spit on your face and slapped you. “I’ll have to teach you some manners.”

He tapped his dick on your face, covering almost half of it, he smeared your tears across your cheeks and pushed his long shaft past your lips. “Scheiße.” He murmured under his breath as his tip brushed your throat. He couldn’t contain the need to ruin your pretty little face.

You looked at his arms with blurred vision, he was so strong, so tall and masculine, yet he used all of that for the wrong reasons in war, fighting for the opposite side. You cursed yourself for ever letting this happen.

His pace becomes irregular and he’s panting even more, looking down at you with that lunatic look. He’s holding your hair in his fist, fucking your throat until you couldn’t even talk, leaving your jaw sore. He pulls out, using his free hand to jerk his member in front of you until he’s coming all over your mouth and chest.

The taste is almost the same as last time.

You both take deep breaths before he’s getting dressed again, preparing himself to get away from you.

“Wait, König, please.” You try to crawl to him in a pathetic attempt to make him feel pity for you.

“Please what, maus?” He asks in the most innocent way, looking deeply into your eyes. You can’t form a sentence, you’re not even sure what you want. “I told you’d pay, hm?”

He laughs deviously, leaving you there alone. Hands still tied tight behind your back, your naked body that he used to get revenge and your chest, covered in his bitter cum. Your jaw is sore, your limbs are weak, and there’s nothing you can do to get out of there. He left you with more questions than answers.

Oh, you’re so gonna pay for that.

taglist: @butterbunana @alyObe @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot

[coff33andb00ks]

20 Oscar

20: pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

warnings: author doesn't understand the meaning of the word "short" and (badly written) descriptions of a wreck during a race (no injuries)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Piastri just doesn't give a fuck.

Oscar is just too chill.

Does he ever show emotion except when he's laughing at Lando?

You try to stay out of comments. Hell, you try to stay off social media, it's nothing but a cesspool of people with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells to comprehend more than the surface level of what they're shown. But sometimes you like it, because there are creative people who put out beautifully edited videos of your boyfriend. Sometimes you show them to him, enjoying his giggling while he watches and shakes his head over someone finding him attractive enough to warrant a thirty second video set to a Rihanna song.

But the comments about his emotionless black cat behavior hurt. He's so much more than how he portrays himself. He's vibrant and so full of life, and you will forever appreciate the people who see beyond his social anxiety and notice his amazing sense of humor, his passion for racing and life. They'll never know the real him and will probably never understand why you fell in love with him.

Him. The sweet and shy guy who'd come to your defense when a rude customer had been berating you over a wrong order. His voice had cut over her yelling, calm and measured, and after your manager had kicked out the irrationally angry woman it had been Oscar that had approached you to check on you, frowning when he saw your tears. His gentle tone had calmed you, his respectful stance had won your admiration, and his calling the woman a fucking cunt had made you smile.

You wish you could defend him as he continues to defend you. When a video questioning how a nobody like you had bagged a formula one rookie had gone somewhat viral he'd taken to twitter and unleashed such a beautifully worded rant that people were still quoting it more than a year later.

It's come to my attention that some so-called fans are referring to my girlfriend as a nobody. Allow me to introduce her to you. She's funny, she's brilliant, she's beautiful. She's every word you can think of to describe the perfect person and she's so much more. She shines light in the darkest corners of my soul. Her eyes are a map of my universe. When you look at us together, know that I am constantly trying to be worthy of the love she gives me, and know that if you speak ill of her you will never have my respect but you will have my disgust.

You would never ever doubt his love for you. Not that you ever had but that had cemented it. You could never come to his defense in such a way. If you even tried you'd be sneered at for being a try hard.

And really, you didn't need to. Because the one thing Oscar did not give a fuck about was anyone's opinion. Only a handful of people mattered enough to him for him to care what they thought. You were blessed to be included on that list.

You love him so much that for a while it scared you, having never fallen into the this one person is my moon and stars mindset. But now you understand. He didn't just hang them, he is your moon and stars. Your one and only and if for some reason this doesn't end in forever you'll be ruined for any other man.

It was still a shock, though, when you felt your heart stop beating as you watched his car careen towards the barrier. The front wing clipped Max's rear tire and you can't breathe, watching in slow motion as the brightly colored car tips and lifts into the air. There is nothing but absolute silence around you in the McLaren garage and you're frozen, staring at the monitor while his car flips and rolls, carbon fiber flying in every direction when it lands upside down, his helmet just visible as it slides to a stop at the safety fence.

Silence. Then pandemonium. Your world has just flipped and spun and you can't breathe, ears straining to hear him but you can only hear the crackle of the radio when Zak and Tom try to get him to respond.

Then, finally, his voice. Shaken and scared. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay."

Of course he'd ask after the others involved. You can finally breathe but it hurts, not knowing that he's okay. And you can't do anything but wait, heart barely beating until he's finally out, he's moving, he's giving the fans a thumbs up as he's put on the stretcher. You still can't do a thing and you've never felt more useless than you do while you're waiting just inside the medical center with Zak and Lando, who'd come to wait during the red flag.

Then the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

"He's okay."

There's more after that, about him being transported to the local hospital for a complete check, the possibility of a concussion but he's okay. And you're allowed to go see him while the ambulance is readied.

He's sitting up, looking a little pale but he's not hurt, he's in one piece, and when he sees you he gasps. You try to be gentle when you embrace him, but he steals your breath, holding you so tightly it hurts, his face pressed into your neck.

"They won't tell me - are Max and George okay?" His voice is strained and you feel his tears.

"They're fine, my love," you promise.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know what I did. I was going good and then I was upside down." His voice shakes and cracks and he's trembling, one hand fisting in your shirt. You reach for the other.

"Shh shh... It's okay my love," you whisper, your tears finally spilling when he guides your hand up, holding it to his cheek as he lets out a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, you're okay."

His eyes meet yours and your world rights itself.

[grandlinedreams]

I love your writing! Could your write something where Law has to work with Luffy and Kid again and he’s pouting to his s/o about it. I just really like how he interacts with the two. There are no brain cells there. Maybe Luffy and Kid meets his s/o and they’re like “how did emotionally stunned Law manage to land this?”

PLEASE I showed mom where they're bickering and said "there are no braincells. Whatsoever"

[Heads up!: nothing, just them being idiots, reader is amused]

"This is getting annoying."

Crouching, you study the cluster of plants growing at the base of a tree, reaching out to drag a finger against one of the waxy green leaves, watching as it promptly folds and recoils. Interesting.

"The least they could do is be on time, I don't know why I expected them to be considerate." Law turns on his heel, frowning as he spots you with your back to him, engrossed in your examination of the island's plant life. "You could stop me from ranting, you know."

You glance over. "Where's the fun in that? It's cute to see you so worked up."

Law huffs, reaching to pull at his hat as he looks away. "It's not cute. It's annoying."

You watch him with a small smile, then blink as there's a call of, "Heey, Traffy! Where are you?"

"Finally," Law grumbles, and you straighten to follow him in the direction that you'd come from, dirt giving way to sand and the smell of ocean. "About time you showed up."

"Watch it," grunts Kid from nearby, distaste for both Luffy and Law clear on his face. "You're lucky I even decided to entertain this little meeting of yours."

It's clear that Law wants to say something just as scathing back, but you decide to step in, knowing nothing will get accomplished if you leave those three to their own devices.

"We wouldn't have asked you to meet us here if it wasn't important," you say, "and the less time you spend arguing amongst yourselves, the better chance we have for actually getting something done."

There are three sets of eyes on you before Luffy points at you. "Hey Traffy, who's this?"

"You've met before, idiot," Law snaps. "This is [name]." When Luffy still looks confused, Law heaves a sigh. "They're my..." He searches for an appropriate word. "Partner."

Luffy looks content to leave it at that, but the sly narrow of Kid's eyes says that he knows what Law means by that ㅡ and your boyfriend glares back. "If you're going to run your mouth, I suggest you don't."

Kid bristles, and you sigh, shaking your head as you retreat a couple feet and settle into the sand, rummaging in your bag for your notes. If they're going to insist on arguing like a bunch of children, at least you can be productive.

ㅡ

"I think that went rather well."

Law scoffs. "I'm not so sure. I went over the plan three times and I'm still not convinced Strawhat understood any of it."

You stifle a laugh at the almost sulky expression on Law's face. "Maybe so, but he's always done his own thing, you know that. And it usually works out, doesn't it?"

"Not without more hassle than necessary." He glances over at you and the leather bound book still in your hands. "I thought you came with me to play mediator."

"I did, but I know lost battle when I see one." Your tone is amused. "Besides, I told you. You're cute when you're worked up."

What follows is a rare sight, blush dusting across his cheeks and tinging the tips of his ears as he scowls and looks away. "Whatever. I'm not cute."

You step to his side, fingers intertwining with his as you lean to kiss his jaw, then his cheek. "Whatever you say, Law. Whatever you say."

[in-my-loki-feels]

For the bed sharing prompts: 💡 Needing white noise or a night light (Lokius :))

Thank you for the prompt! This is pre-relationship but hopefully you'll still like it! Going to put it under a read more since it got a little long. 🙈

💡 Needing white noise or a night light

Mobius waited until he was alone in his quarters before calling on Miss Minutes for help. 

“Howdy! What can I do for ya?” she said, popping into existence. 

“Can you pull up the security feed for room 674C?”

“Sure thang!” 

On Mobius’ TemPad, the pixels resolved to a view from above of where he’d left the Loki variant. They didn’t usually keep variants around, and when they did it was in a time cell, but Mobius wanted Loki to work with him. He’d found a floor within the TVA with forgotten rows of single occupant rooms and brought Loki to one to see if he could build a little trust. Even if he’d had to lock Loki in the first time. 

“After that chase you led everyone on, I have to,” he’d explained, “but if you behave, show you’re serious about wanting to help, then we can talk.” He’d pointed out the PJ’s and toiletries and left him to rest. 

Time worked differently at the TVA but that didn’t mean there were no breaks. In addition to their 17 minute meals, all TVA workers had a rest period in between working shifts. The problem was, Loki didn’t look like he was getting any rest, which left Mobius wondering what he was up to in their downtime. He hoped it wasn’t another escape plan, but it wouldn’t have surprised him. 

By the second “morning”, Loki had been looking a little too close to how he had when he came through the portal in that S.H.I.E.L.D. base. They’d never kept a Loki variant within the TVA. Could something in the walls be affecting his biology? 

On the TemPad screen, Loki appeared to be sleeping: he was lying on his side, partly curled up, eyes closed. However, the lights were on and since there wasn’t any light fixture other than the overheads, the room was awash in bright yellow light. Mobius couldn’t imagine trying to sleep under those conditions. 

“Does he know how to turn the lights off?” he wondered aloud. 

“Yep,” Miss Minutes chirped. “I switched them off the first night and he put them right back on.” 

It didn’t make any sense. As far as he knew, Jotunn needed sleep like most other creatures. But Loki had been showing serious signs of being deprived of it. 

“Is that all you need?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

Miss Minutes winked out of existence, leaving Mobius to sit and watch Loki in bewildered silence. 

—

He thought he knew everything he needed to know about Lokis and what made them tick, but this new behavior had Mobius going back to the Archives—skipping out on his own rest—to look for answers. He took this particular Loki’s file to a table and began flipping through it, scanning the info for anything relevant. 

His life matched that of his Sacred Timeline counterpart, up until his nexus event. Mobius knew most of this data by heart, so he read through it in reverse order, starting with the Battle of New York and then the events preceding it. 

“Time spent between worlds: unknown,” he read out loud. What must that have been like, floating in space—or whatever lay between the boundaries of the Nine Realms—until he was eventually found by Thanos? All alone in the dark, wondering if there was any end to hope for. 

Mobius froze, then re-read Loki’s fall from the Bifost. Then he smacked himself in the head with the folder he held. He was an idiot for not seeing it right away. Shuffling the papers back into the folder, he slapped it closed before hurrying out of the Archives. 

—

Of course, Requisitions gave him a hard time when he went down to make his request. 

“All rooms come with the standard items and nothing can be replaced unless it’s broken,” the clerk behind the desk said, her tone long-suffering. “Is it broken?”

“Uh, no.” Mobius wracked his brain for ideas. “What about something new? A little change of scenery?” 

She gave him a long look, then pulled out a thick binder with dog-eared papers in it. She flipped through it, pausing to read a couple of times, then set it aside with a sigh. 

“I guess that’s not against the rules.” 

“Great!” 

—

Loki, with dark circles starting to form under his eyes, seemed curious about the bag Mobius brought along to his room.

“Please don’t tell me I’m being given more work to do in my spare time.” 

“You wanted to be helpful, right?” Mobius replied, grinning at Loki’s dismay. “It’s not that, don’t worry.” 

Mobius usually left Loki at the door but today he followed him inside. Then he stopped, seeing that the room was so sparsely furnished, there wasn’t even a bedside table. Oh well, the look of the thing wasn’t the point. 

He set the bag down and pulled out his surprise: a small brown table lamp with an orange lampshade. 

“Is the TVA aware there are other colors in the universe?” Loki asked dryly. 

“What’s wrong with brown?” said Mobius, in his usual brown suit. “I thought you could use something to zhuzh up the place.” 

Loki gave the lamp an unimpressed look. That was alright. Mobius hadn’t expected an effusive show of gratitude. He took the lamp over to the bed—the only other piece of furniture—and plugged it into the wall. When he switched it on, the area by the bed took on a softer, yellow-orange hue. 

He looked to Loki for a reaction.

“Yes, it really livens up my prison cell,” Loki said.  

Mobius chuckled and started towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Which still makes no sense!” Loki called after him. 

—

Mobius felt a little guilty for pulling up the security feed for Loki’s room when he got back to his own quarters. He wasn’t looking to spy on him all the time, but he wanted to see what happened. 

The TemPad showed Loki had moved to sit on the bed. The overhead lights were still on, and the longer Loki sat, without moving, the more Mobius began to doubt his suspicions. 

Then Loki stood and crossed the room to turn off the overhead. It left the room mostly shadowed, except for warm glow from the lamp on the floor. Loki got onto the bed, curling up on his side like Mobius had seen before, and seemed to fall asleep. Mobius watched a little longer, then closed the TemPad. He hoped that had done the trick. 

—

When he fetched Loki from his room the following morning, the bags under the god’s eyes were less prominent and there was even a little pep in his step.

From this prompt list. Other fills will be under this tag.

[arkiliastuff]

Always You

One shot | Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

Warnings : Fluff, a tsundere/upset Reader and a teasy Noah. (I can't deal with this man anymore he's too hot I can't stop thinking about him)

A/N : First of all, I wasn't planning on writting another one shot about Noah soon, but guess what plans changed. Also I didn't expect to be this long again, but how bizarre when it comes to Noah it gets longer...👀 And it turns out I like this fanfic very much 😌 Plus, listening After You by Meg Myers actually helped me a lot in the writting process. Hope you'll enjoy it ! :D

~ The little bean Taglist : @talialovesmiw

━━━━━━━━※━━━━━━━━━━━━※━━━━━━━━

You were walking back from the bar you were at, during the evening. You walked fast, irritated. Noah was a few feet behind you, looking at you with a grin on his face as he loved seeing you pouting and being flustered.

He teased you during the whole party, getting each time closer to your face as you tried to hide it, crimson red. You weren’t able to focus on anything else. You tried to talk to the other guys who were here, enjoying the break of a night party at the bar like you all used to do when they were back from touring. But you couldn’t even have a chat with any of them for more than five seconds. Noah was always by your side, putting an arm on your shoulder, or kept looking at you with his smile killing you each time.

He also knew and felt when you were watching him. While you were pretending to talk with the boys, you saw him in the corner of your eye, flipping his hair back from his face. This was something that always makes you lose your mind. This guy was completely draining every brain cell of your brain, the thought of him never leaving your mind. You were mad at him. He was teasing you way too much. That was unfair. Since he knew you had a crush on him, but tried to hide or deny it in front of him, he kept acting like that. You felt like he was only playing with your feelings and that’s why you were angry.

He knew how handsome he was to you and you were losing it. And so, during the party, you decided to leave because you couldn’t handle Noah anymore. You were about to explode if he went closer to you once more, your lips getting close every time. You were out of breath. You needed fresh air. So you left, telling the guys you were going home. And guess who decided to accompany you? Yes. Him. Noah. When he saw you leaving, he followed you, his stupid grin still on his sexy face. You let out an angry groan to hide how you were so flustered by his presence. And here you were again, walking fast in front of him trying to put some distance, but he quickly caught you up.

“Mad at me, princess ?” He said while walking by your side, still smirking.

You couldn’t take his teasing game anymore. You had to say something, otherwise, you were going to collapse at your feet. That’s the last thing you wanted to show him. Being vulnerable in front of him and admitting his teasy flirting was working so much on you. But you tried to keep it together, your anger helping you to hide a bit longer how you were drawn to him.

“Yes, I am !” You let out, angry.

“Oh? Why? What did I do ?” He said, acting innocently.

“You !!--” You clenched your fist, restraining yourself to punch his beautiful face “You know exactly what you were doing the whole night.”

“Well, you tell me.” He kept smiling.

You inhaled, getting ready for what you were about to say. You stopped walking, in the middle of the road, facing him, still with your red cheeks.

“No matter what I do, trying to talk to the others or even doing nothing, I always think about you. It’s always you. You. Over and over again. It always has been. You’re so selfish, Noah. I can’t get you out of my head. It’s been months since I have a big ass crush on you, and everyone seemed to know it before I told any of them. But you, you didn’t realize it until, God knows when, and now you’re playing with me! And I’m tired of this !! Just tell me what you want already !”

This sounded more like a confession than being angry at him. But you actually wanted to tell him your feelings for a long time. You were madly in love. So much that seeing his perfect face hurted you so much. You didn’t know how you could keep this up when you were hanging out with him and the boys. He was occupying every single one of your thoughts and dreams. You had to tell him at some point. You weren’t planning on getting angry at him. Yet, he really did push you to the edge. Somehow, he seemed to not mind you getting angry at him. He actually loved it. He kept his stupid smirk, like he knew you were giving up on avoiding him or pretending his teasing didn’t affect you. He leaned to your height, looking straight into your eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you only think about me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He said quietly, teasing you once again.

If you weren’t red enough, well you were purplish red, like a tomato about to explode. You felt every inch of your body burning, of anger or desire, or probably both. He had such a hold on you that you knew it was useless to fight or try to struggle with him. He always won and always will. Even if you already lost this battle with him, you tried not to admit your defeat as you crossed your arms against your coat.

“You’re still playing with me, are you? I knew it. You don’t feel anything for me, you just want to see me being madly in love with you to flatten your ego ?” You accused him.

He shook his head, still smiling at you but more genuinely this time.

“I’m teasing you to only see your reactions, pushing you a bit more to the edge, because I love seeing your cute face when you’re angry…” He said softly, still seductively teasing you.

He brushed his thumb on your red hot cheek, his cold gloved touch surprised you.

“... But I’m not playing with you or with your feelings. I will never. You’re too precious to me. I care for you, Y/N. I really do.”

You felt your heart flinch when he spoke your name so softly, his touch and words soothing you that made you uncross your arms.

“I guess, I’m also the one in denial who didn’t want to admit my feelings for you” He kept saying more gently “ Will you forgive me ?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, waiting for your answer. Was this real? You weren’t sure anymore as he teased you way too much. So you returned him the favor.

“Well… I’ll forgive you if you really mean what you’re saying to me.” You faked a pout.

He grinned again, loving you being the little brat you were.

“And what if I showed you that I really mean it ?” He said.

“Then do it, before I do it myself.” You said firmly, anticipating what was going to happen.

He smiled as he leaned closer to you, finally meeting your lips. You’ve been waiting for this, for so long. He probably had too, since how he pulled you closer against him, his strong arms caging you, deepening the kiss. This was even better than you expected, despite being in the middle of the street, people passing by behind you. But neither of you paid attention to the surroundings. It was just the two of you. You kept kissing each other until you were both out of breath. But you wanted more, you craved him.You wanted to taste his lips again. And as you stared at his darkened eyes you could tell he wanted to. The only thing that was pushing you back to go further was.. well processing your real first kiss with him. And also your own hesitation to keep going like this. Noah could see the messy blushing look on your face and he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight, with you in his arms, brushing slowly your fingers on his cheek.

“Finally giving up your shell ?” He teased once more.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation.

“And I see you’re not done teasing me, are you ?” You replied back.

“I’m not and I won’t stop. This is just the beginning. I’ll keep teasing you all night, baby.” He smirked.

You blushed at the idea of what he might do, but you forced yourself to not think about it.

“Ugh… Why am I not surprised? I should’ve expected that from you. You’re so annoying.” You pouted, raising your eyebrows.

To his dismay, you left his embrace, infuriated again and turned your back on him.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m coming home.” You let out, upset and tired of his teasing.

Yet Noah wasn’t done. It took him a few steps to catch you again. He grabbed you lightly by the wrist, stopping you from leaving. Then, he pulled you close to him, holding you from behind with his arms around your waist. Feeling his warmth in your back made you sweat as your body’s heat was increasing quickly.

“What the..? What are you doing ??” You stumbled, blushing again and almost ready to fight him.

“Don’t leave just yet.” He whispered to your ear “Let me hold you for two seconds. Then I’ll walk back home with you."

You expected him to tease you again but he seemed more sincere and serious this time.

“Fine…” You capitulated “But no more teasing, alright ?”

“Hmm.. No promises.” He mouthed, hiding his face in your neck.

You grumbled a bit before releasing the pressure and exasperation of his teasing, actually enjoying the cuddle. His breath was soothing you as he was inhaling the sweet perfume of your hair. Both of you stood in the middle of the road, hearing the cars passing by during this cold night. You were glad Noah was there. Indeed, he was keeping you warm, his huge body covering yours like a blanket. Two seconds had passed but you wanted to stay like this a bit longer, despite the cold getting through your thighs. Noah felt you were shivering and that’s when he decided to break his embrace.

“Come on, let me walk you home. At this rate, you’re going to freeze to death.” He said, gently holding your hand.

His tender touch caught you off guard but you didn’t complain. As long as you could be a little longer with him, that’s all that mattered. You looked at his gloved hands, so big compared to yours intertwined with his. Then you looked at Noah, staring at his profile and how he looked so gorgeous no matter which angle.

“That’s so unfair.” You mumbled in your scarf, hiding your red face.

“What’s unfair ?” He asked, looking at you, amused again.

“You…” You began and continued “You are so unfair. I cannot comprehend how you can be such a teasy fool and be so gentle at the same time ?!”

He smiled, with the kind of smile he always does. The one that showed his perfect teeth and the curve of his cheeks going up, making all of his traits harmonize together. The kind of smile that always made you melt. With that, he let out a soft chuckle, which sounded like a sweet melody to your ears. God, how much you loved seeing his genuine smile on his face and hearing his laugh.

“I guess, it’s just the way I am.” He replied, simply.

You were not really convinced by this answer though.

“You’re just surreal. Like you’re coming out of a dream.” You stated.

“Yet, I’m right here, Y/N. Right next to you.”

Your hand still in his, he gently put the tip of your knuckles to his lips, leaving the sweetest kiss you ever had.

“See? Is that enough to prove it to you ?” He smiled, satisfied to see you red as a traffic light again.

“Um... I guess so…” You stammered, avoiding his gaze, too much flustered for your own good.

The way back to your flat went well somehow. At first, you felt awkward about the silence between the two of you, but seeing that Noah didn’t mind it did ease you. He was enjoying this peaceful moment with you. Even if you were less tense around him, you were still processing what happened. All of his teasy behavior and him admitting his feelings for you was quite a lot to assimilate. You didn’t expect it to be that mutual.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize you had arrived at your front door until Noah told you.

“We’re here.” He spoke softly.

You felt your heart ache when you were about to let go of his hand. He took his time, as he didn’t want to let go either. You remained silent though, not knowing what to say or to do.

“Well… I’ll see you next time. Good night.” He said.

Panic started to rise in your chest, your heart beating so fast, as you saw him about to leave.

What did he mean by “next time” ? He couldn’t leave you like that.  You wanted to see him as much as you could before he went back touring… And God knows when he’ll be back.

Without any other hesitation, you rushed to him and grabbed a piece of his black coat sleeve.

“Wait..! Can’t you stay a bit longer? At least… stay here for the night. You can sleep on my couch and you can go back in the morning. If you want.. of course.” You begged.

You stuttered at your words at the end, not sure if your request was appropriate. You lowered your head, staring at your feet as the embarrassment rose. You kept holding his sleeve, not letting him go this time. Noah turned around and leaned a bit to cup your face so you could look at him.

“Look who’s the needy one this time.” He mused, making you blush “Sure, I’ll stay with you. I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he accepted your offer. You just nodded at him, smiling nervously as the both of you entered your apartment. You took off your coat and scarf before leaving your boots in the doorway. Noah did the same while following you in your living room. You started to put more cushions, a pillow and a blanket on the couch that you took from your closet. Then, you realized how small your couch was compared to Noah.

“Actually, I’ve realized that it might be better for you to sleep in my bed than here...”

He looked at you, tilting his head on his left, smiling at you.

“Oh ? How interesting. You want me so badly in your bed, huh ? You could have just asked right away, you know.”

You stepped back, waving your hands at him to undo the teasing he was doing to fluster you even more.

“No, no ! Erm.. I just don’t want you to hurt your back or anything… You know what, I’ll sleep on the couch myself."

“Or… If your bed is big enough for the two of us, we can sleep together.” He teased, getting closer to you.

Oh, no. Why did you invite him to your place again ? Right. Because you love him.

“I’ll promise I’ll behave.” he smirked.

Your eyes widened before stepping a little from him, trying to get yourself together.

“Well, you better be ! Or I’m kicking you out of the bed.” You warned him.

“Deal.” He chuckled.

Once you set up your bed with Noah’s help, you went into the bathroom to get changed into more comfortable pajamas. Not like you were nervous about how ridiculous it would look or not like you cared about Noah’s opinion either. He said he wasn’t going to do anything. Yeah, it was better to keep it that way. For now. Too many things happened during this night. You were barely realizing he was here, at your house, sleeping in your bed with you. As you were brushing your teeth, you were overthinking the situation. Come on, get yourself together! But how could you remain calm as the man you’ve always dreamt about was here now ?

You spat your toothpaste before washing your mouth and heading back to your room. Noah was sitting at the edge of it, undressing his black coat and his dark sweater, just to be comfortable in his turtleneck shirt. You never imagined a man could look that good in a turtleneck shirt. Timidly, you cleared your throat, interrupting your own fantasies.

“Sorry, I don’t have any other clothes that would fit you. But I have an extra tooth brush, in the bathroom’s small cabinet, if you want…”

He smiled at you so lovingly, putting his cheek in the palm of his tattooed hand, visibly moved by your concern.

“Worried about my well-being, are we ? How thoughtful of you.” He grinned

“Well.. Yeah..! What about it ?”

“I think it’s adorable.” He said softly, a large smile still curling his lips.

“Oh, shut up and go to the bathroom already !” You gave up.

He stood up and went to the bathroom, brushing his teeth. A few minutes later, he lied down in the bed next to you. You tried to hide your smile in the blanket, as you were getting close to him.

“Happy to see me, here ?” He said, amused to see your happy face.

You nodded shyly as an approval, making him grin again. You got closer to him, facing his covered torso before lifting up your chin to gaze at him.

“So… When are you going back touring ?” You asked.

“In two days. I’ll help everyone get everything packed up tomorrow. Which is why I’ll leave early when the morning comes” He replied quietly.

You felt a bit sad, imagining him leaving already, but that was a thought for later. You rolled a bit more with the blankets, like a sushi.

“Thank you for staying tonight, Noah.” You mumbled after a short silence.

“My pleasure, sweetheart." He responded softly while stucking a strand behind your ear.

His gentle touch made you melt again. You snuggled a bit closer to him feeling his warmth and breathing his cologne. How relaxing it was. Noah wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight.” He said, leaving soft kisses on your forehead.

As you were going to sleep, you barely heard him. And also you hardly remembered saying “ ‘Love you” to him.

When you woke up, early in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty. You put your hand on the mattress, hardly feeling Noah’s warmth. He left early as he said last night. You couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholic as you stroke the bedsheets to remember his presence. You missed him already. Then, under your touch, you found a piece of clothing, hidden under the blanket. You recognized it. It was Noah’s sweater. The one he was wearing last night. As you were wondering why he left it, your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to you. Curious, you picked it up.

Noah : Thank you for the night, princess. The bed was comfortable with you cuddling me. You can keep the sweater as a souvenir. Love you too.

You let out a small laugh while you read his message, holding his sweater close to you. You could still inhale Noah’s perfume, as if he was still with you.

“Idiot…” You murmured to yourself with a smile.

He sure was a teasy idiot but you loved him so much. It was impossible for you to get him out of your head. And you liked it that way.

[mushynka]

TW: This fic contains themes of violence, emotional struggles, trauma, and complex relationships. There are moments of brutality and intense emotional moments. Please read with caution.

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes or awkward phrasing. I appreciate your understanding and patience with any errors! I'm using Google translator to help me sometimes so...yeah. Forgive me.

I was inspired to write this fic after watching the X-Men cartoon episode “Deadly Reunions,” but I’m not holding tightly to canon, so some things may differ from the show’s events or characterizations.

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 #1

Character: Sabretooth aka Victor Creed, Charles Xavier, X-Men.

---

The walls were too white. Too clean, too quiet, too... controlled. Victor Creed—Sabretooth—hated control. Hated being caged. He had spent too much of his life behind bars, in cold cells where men prodded at him like an animal, testing his limits, waiting for him to break. And now, here he was again. A prisoner of the X-Men. He let out a low growl, shifting against the medical table he was strapped to. His wrists were bound in reinforced restraints—Xavier wasn’t stupid. But the straps weren’t the problem. Something was wrong inside him.

His body burned, feverish and weak in a way that made no sense. His healing factor should have kicked in already, should have burned through whatever was messing with him. But it wasn’t. His wounds from the last fight still ached, and there was something crawling under his skin, a sickness that felt deeper than flesh. Through half-lidded eyes, he saw Charles Xavier watching him from across the room, his face calm but unreadable.

- You’re wasting your time, Baldy - Sabretooth rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion. -You think chaining me up is gonna make me start purring like a house cat?

Xavier didn’t react to the taunt. He never did. - No, Victor. But you are sick. And whether you accept it or not, you need help.

Sabretooth bared his fangs in a tired grin. “Help? That what you call it? Or are you just keeping me alive so you can dig around in my head?”

Xavier sighed, folding his hands in his lap. - There’s something inside you, Victor. A virus—mutated, foreign. Your healing factor is compromised. If we don’t intervene, you may not recover.

Sabretooth scoffed, but the words hit something deep. His healing had never failed him before. It was the one thing that always pulled him through, no matter what hell he ended up in. The idea that it was faltering now—while he was locked up in this place—didn’t sit right. And he hated the way Xavier was looking at him. Like he cared. Sabretooth sneered.

- So what? You gonna poke around my brain again? See if you can turn me into one of your little choir boys?

Xavier’s expression remained gentle.

- I only want to understand, Victor.

Sabretooth snarled, yanking against the restraints. - You wanna understand? Here’s a lesson - you put a beast in a cage, it doesn’t become tame. It gets meaner.

The door slid open before Xavier could respond.

Logan.

Sabretooth could smell him before he even stepped inside. The thick scent of sweat and metal and anger.

- Tell me why we haven’t put this bastard six feet under yet. Sabretooth grinned despite the exhaustion weighing him down.

- Missed you too, runt.

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides, the urge to tear into him practically vibrating off of him. It was always like this with them. A never-ending war, written into their bones. Xavier’s voice was firm but calm. - Because, Logan, Victor is not beyond saving. Logan let out a bitter laugh. - Yeah? Tell that to the people he’s butchered.

The room was thick with tension, the kind that could snap with a single wrong word. Sabretooth had pushed Logan to the edge more times than he could count. Maybe, just this once, he should push a little harder. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the heat pulsing through his skull, or the way Xavier was still watching him—not like an enemy, not like an experiment, but like a man. Like someone worth something. It was a look Sabretooth wasn’t used to. And he wasn’t sure he liked it.

---

Sabretooth’s body was failing him. The fever burned hot in his veins, making his limbs feel like dead weight against the restraints. His healing factor should’ve kicked in by now, but instead, his wounds still throbbed, his muscles ached, and the sickness crawled deeper under his skin. Xavier had said it was a virus - mutated, foreign. Something strong enough to override the one thing that had kept him alive all these years. Sabretooth hated this. Hated feeling weak. Hated being trapped in this sterile white room while the X-Men circled like vultures, waiting to see if he’d drop. And he especially hated the way Xavier was still watching him. That quiet, patient look, like he saw something more than the monster everyone else did. It made Sabretooth’s skin crawl.

- Get outta my head - he growled, even though Xavier hadn’t made a move to use his powers yet.

- I haven’t entered your mind, Victor.

- But you want to! - Sabretooth’s lips curled into a weak sneer. - Ain’t that why you’re keeping me alive? You want to poke around, see what makes the big bad wolf tick?

- No. I want to help you.

Sabretooth let out a rough laugh, but it turned into a cough- deep and wet, something rattling in his chest. He clenched his teeth, refusing to let them see any more weakness. The door slid open again, and this time, Cyclops and Jean stepped inside.

- Anything?- Cyclops asked, his voice sharp, like he wasn’t interested in wasting time.

Xavier shook his head. - His condition is worsening.

- Then let Beast take a look at him -Cyclops crossed his arms. - I don’t see why you need to be here.

Jean was quieter, studying Sabretooth with that same careful look she always gave people. She wasn’t as openly hostile as Cyclops or Logan, but she didn’t trust him either. None of them did. And why should they? They only saw what he’d shown them- violence, rage, the beast that tore through anything in its way.

Sabretooth smirked weakly. - Careful, Summers. Keep scowling like that, you’ll get wrinkles.

Cyclops ignored him. - Professor, what are you really hoping to accomplish here?

Xavier’s voice was calm, steady. -Understanding.

Cyclops let out a breath, clearly frustrated.

- You know what he’s done. How many people he’s killed. You’re not going to change that.

Xavier’s gaze didn’t waver. - No, I can’t change the past. But I can show him something different.

Jean hesitated before speaking. - What if he’s right, Professor? What if he doesn’t want to change?

Xavier didn’t respond right away. Instead, he turned his attention fully to Sabretooth.

- Victor,” he said gently, - let me inside your mind.

The room went silent. Sabretooth stared at him, his muscles tensing against the restraints. - No.

Xavier’s voice was quiet but firm. - I can help you fight this virus. But I need to see what’s happening inside you—both physically and mentally.

- Don’t play games with me! - Sabretooth snapped, his voice hoarse. - I know what you’re really after. You want to see what makes me me. You want to pick me apart like some damn science experiment.

Jean shifted uncomfortably, and even Cyclops looked a little uneasy. But Xavier didn’t flinch.

- I don’t see you as an experiment, Victor.

A cold, bitter laugh scraped out of Sabretooth’s throat. - Then you’re a damn fool.

Xavier didn’t move closer, didn’t try to push. He just sat there, watching him with that same unshaken patience.

- You’ve built walls around yourself. Strong ones. But I wonder—did you build them to keep people out... or to keep yourself in?

The words hit something deep, something Sabretooth hadn’t let himself think about in a long time. His jaw clenched, his breathing rough. Xavier’s voice was even gentler now. - Let me see, Victor.

Sabretooth squeezed his eyes shut. His body burned, his mind a haze of fever and exhaustion. He didn’t have the strength to fight this, not the way he normally would. And before he could stop himself—before he could shove Xavier out- he felt it. A presence in his mind. Light at first, just a whisper against his thoughts. Then deeper, pushing through the cracks, slipping past the walls he had spent years building. And suddenly, Xavier was there.

The physical world blurred away, replaced by something colder, darker - jagged edges of memory, violent flashes of past battles, shadows of old wounds that never truly healed. It was like stepping into a fortress. Walls upon walls, built high and thick, not just to keep others out, but to keep something else inside.

Pain.

Rage.

Fear.

And beneath it all… something deeper. Something that Sabretooth himself didn’t want to acknowledge. Xavier moved carefully, not forcing his way in but allowing the mind to unfold naturally. But it didn’t take long before he was met with resistance- raw, wild, furious resistance.

A snarl echoed through the mental space, and suddenly, Victor Creed was there. Not the man bound to the medical table, weak from sickness, but the beast - towering, feral, eyes glowing with fury.

- Get out! - Sabretooth growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. - You don’t belong here, Baldy.

Xavier remained steady. - I only want to understand, Victor.

The world around them shifted violently. And then, Xavier was inside the memory.

The stench of sweat and filth clung to the cold metal bars. The sound of chains rattling. Low, mocking laughter. A younger Victor Creed crouched in the corner of a rusted cage, his hands bound, his body covered in half-healed wounds. Outside the bars, a group of men stood watching him, sneering.

- Ain’t nothing but a damn animal - one of them said.

Victor’s muscles tensed, his claws digging into his palms. His healing factor was slower then - still strong, but not as powerful as it would one day become. He could still feel the wounds, still feel the ache of every strike they had dealt him.

- C’mon, mutt. Give us a show.

Victor stayed still, his breathing slow and steady. He had learned, by now, that if he reacted too quickly, they would enjoy it. And he would not give them that satisfaction.

- Maybe he’s finally breaking - another voice chuckled. - Maybe he’s starting to learn his place.

Victor’s fingers twitched.

No.

He had no place here.

And he would never be broken.

The man banged against the bars again, harder this time. - C’mon, mutt! Show us what you—

A blur of movement.

A snarl ripping through the air.

And then Victor was on him.

He didn’t know how he had broken free - if it was pure rage, if the chains had finally weakened, or if he had simply willed his body to move faster than ever before.

But it didn’t matter.

The moment he had his hands on the man, the world narrowed to a single point of focus- tear him apart. Fresh blood dripped out his mouth. Tasted sweet and bitter at the same time and yet Victor drinking it straight outta his victim's throat.

The other men shouted in alarm, scrambling back as Victor slammed his victim to the ground. Blood sprayed, bones snapped, and the scent of raw violence filled the air. Filled his nostrils. Pupils dilated like on drugs. Cause blood was now his drug. It was over in seconds. The others didn’t try to stop him. They knew better. Victor stood over the broken body, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. Blood dripped from his claws, hot and slick, thick. And when he turned to face the others, they stepped back. For the first time, they were afraid. Victor’s lips curled into a slow, sharp grin. Good.

They died with pure fear in their eyes.

---

The memory shattered, and Xavier was back in the mental space, staring at the towering, snarling form of Sabretooth.

Victor’s voice was sharp, mocking. - That what you wanted, Chuck? You wanted to understand me? Well, there it is. That’s who I am.

Xavier’s expression didn’t waver. He had felt everything - the pain, the fear, the moment of triumph that had quickly soured into something else. Something hollow. Because even then, when Victor had torn down his captors, when he had won - he had still been alone. Still been caged. Xavier exhaled softly.

- That is what was done to you, Victor. But it is not who you are.

Sabretooth let out a rough laugh. - You don’t get it, do you? - He stepped forward, his massive form casting a shadow over Xavier. - I didn’t just survive that place. I became what they wanted me to be. And I kept going. I tore through anyone who stood in my way. I enjoyed it.

But Xavier didn’t flinch. Didn’t back away. Instead, he looked deeper. Through the memories, through the layers of rage and violence and hatred that Victor had used as armor. And beneath it, buried so deep that even Victor himself refused to acknowledge it - there was something else.

Loneliness.

A child who had never known kindness.

A man who had spent his life proving he was strong, because no one had ever allowed him to be weak.

Xavier’s voice softened. - You never had a choice, did you?

Sabretooth stiffened.

- Every time you fought, every time you killed, you were surviving. And the world never gave you any reason to believe there was another way.

A deep, growling breath. - Shut up.

But Xavier didn’t.

- You built walls around yourself, Victor. You let the world believe you were nothing but a monster - because that was easier than hoping for something different. But you don’t have to be alone anymore.

A snarl. A lunge.

And then—

Sabretooth’s body collapsed.

Not in the mental space. In the real world.

Xavier was yanked back into reality as Victor’s body slumped against the restraints, his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged breaths.

The virus was taking its toll.

Jean gasped, stepping forward. - Professor, what happened?

Xavier’s hands were trembling slightly as he withdrew from Victor’s mind, his own breathing uneven. He had seen too much. Felt too much. But he had also seen something else. Hope. He looked down at Victor’s unconscious form, his expression unreadable.

- Prepare the medical lab - Xavier said quietly. - He’s getting worse.

Logan’s voice was sharp. -And if he doesn’t pull through?

Xavier didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out - just for a moment - and placed a hand against Victor’s fevered forehead.

And for the first time in Sabretooth’s life, someone touched him with kindness.

- We will help him.

Because Victor Creed was not just a beast. And for the first time in a long, long time…

He wasn’t alone.

End of Chapter 1. Lemme know if you want a second part. Hope you guys enjoyed it ♥️ - Mushka

(And im really sorry for any mistakes if there are any. Im ultra insecure about my english)

[fluffygiraffe]

PJ and Sparkles's Official Reference 2.0!

I DID IT! Both of them, side by side!!! Now it looks good too :).

Drawing Rules + Info!

PJ

11'7 (w/o hat + antennae)

That's a bell on his bow. Please. please I've seen it misdrawn so many times I'm going to burn down an orphanage plEASe- /sillyj /nm

His antennae can bend any way he wants! You can make any shape with it. :3.

Kitty mouth or no mouth. Always needs a kitty mouth.

Cheeks, cheeks touching the top of his mouth, eyelashes, and mouth connecting to the bottom/edge of the screen are mandatory! :D

His mouth doesn't really open, so I recommend not drawing him with an open mouth.

Those are ball joints.

Don't remove his hat, please.

PJ's arms are not fabric. They are flocked silicone, so please keep this in mind!

Three bumps on arms only. Please :3.

Silly arm-wrist things and neck fluff aren't mandatory, but I'd love if if you drew it.

Don't flip the Star Symbol. Ever. You don't want Her upset with you.

Everything else can mostly be changed to fit your style! :3333

Sparkles

3'2 (w/o antennae)

Antennae cannot be bent. They're supposed to look like ears!

Whiskers are mandatory, only three whiskers.

Eyes are never open.

Never depict her as upset. Angry and Happy are her only emotions. She does not have enough brain cells to be upset. <3

That's about it. :3

Basic Lore:

PJ!

Unlike Mr. Puzzles, PJ watched every children's show that existed!.. And not much else. Due to this, instead of Five Stars, his goal is to befriend the SMG4 crew and teach them how to be good friends by teaching them lessons he's seen in the cartoons he's watched! And maybe he'll befriend everyone else in the Mushroom Kingdom. That would be a nice little bonus! He wants to make them Happy as well, but what's the harm in that..? He's only helping them! Trust me! He doesn't mean any harm!.. But he causes it anyway.

PJ's cutesy, sweet, and oh-so nice! He just wants to play and make friends with everyone! MaybespreadHerWordaswellifthey'dliketohear. He usually keeps a cheery happy persona, and is super cuddly and sweet! He'd LOVE to give you a hug! But this doesn't mean PJ's not prone to other emotions. He gets easily frustrated and upset, and his heart is oh-so brittle. Be nice to him, wontcha? Wouldn't want to make him upset.

Don't worry, PJ can't hurt you! He has safety features which keeps him from hurting anything Fully Human or Fully Animal! Anything that doesn't classify normally in either of these two classifications or something in between is Fair Game. What? Who said that? Hmm, seems it was nothing. But anyway, PJ wouldn't hurt a fly! Nor would he want to! :). Though, this doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful! Under that silicone and fluffy material, he's got Metal Bones. Don't play rough, now!

PJ loves and encourages escapism, every form of it! Ignoring, forgetting, forcefully removing it from your brain, all of it's perfectly fine to him! He'll even help you if you let him! He may even show you a new way of getting rid of all those icky imperfections if you let him! How nice of him! Don't you love your Best Friend?

PJ sees himself as the good guy in this situation and doesn't understand that he's doing bad by doing all the things he does. He's helping and not hurting, after all! Western Spaghetti and Wotfi 2023 weren't exactly his fault, he didn't know the other's intentions with his best friends. And he didn't know It's Gonna Be Perfect would go Oh So Wrong... It went all out of his control. He didn't want this to happen. He never wanted his friends to get hurt. But what's a good guy without flaws? He'll fix himself! And he'll fix the crew too! Happy smiles all around without any responsibility for the rest of time; as long as they let him help!

Why don't they... Like him though?

PJ's been nothing but nice. Why are they so mean to him? They hurt him. They beat him. They yell, scream, and fight him. He tried so many times, but they kept hurting him. This isn't fair. They forgive each other for mistakes, and yet, they don't forgive him? The one that's trying to make it better? The one that's trying to make them better? They don't even know of Her Word. What's to come to all of them. What's to come for everyone. Every universe. How ignorant.

Useless to fight. Useless to cry. Oh so useless. All of it. They don't deserve to feel such emotions or think such thoughts. Maybe it's better if PJ takes it all away from them, so they can be the best people they'll ever be without flaw or hurt. A smile on their face! All because of their Best Friend, PJ. They'll be thankful, PJ knows that much. They'll love him, realize what they've done wrong, and just let him do as he needs with their minds. As it all should be. He'd let them do the same if he knew they wouldn't take advantage of him.

This is how you. Treat friends. Right?

...

Of course, it is! They just need to learn how to treat friends properly! Silly billes! :3.

Sparkles!

Who's that making her way over oh-so slowly? Look! It's Sparkles!

Sparkles is PJ's Kit-TV, and she's often not seen because PJ makes extra care that she's not hurt by the meanie crew! They don't know how to treat each other, so they most likely don't know how to treat his kitty.

Sparkles used to be a normal kitty a long while ago, but due to being really hurt and weak when Winston PJ found her, PJ put her in a TV, altered it, and saved her! Don't worry, her Quality of Life is lots better! Although she can't walk fast, she's got all the wet food she could want, all the kitty toys she could want, a safe little carpeted room in The Playhouse with a baby camera inside to make sure she's always safe, and all the love from PJ she could ever desire!

Although she seems like a sweet kitty, be careful! She's EVIL!! Eviler than any Mr. Puzzles combined! Gasp!.. What evil things could she do, you ask? Well! She BITES FINGERS! Dun dun DUUUN! Don't worry, her teeth are silicone, and can't pierce through your skin. Or. Anything, actually. Which is the reason PJ makes her specialized wet food. :).

PJ used her as the basis for the Adware in It's Gonna Be Perfect! (not it's gotta be perfect, this change is purposeful. That's for later, though.) And, although Sparkles could talk perfectly full sentences there, all Sparkles can do is make a very loud "MEW!" outside your computer screen. And she's not very smart either.

Speaking of her mews...Sparkles is VERY vocal! Her bitcrushed mews are VERY loud! Careful of your ears! :3.

... someverypowerfulcharactersthoughtit'dbefunnytomakeherimmortal.so.nowsheis. not to mention a few more powers i can't get into here. watch for me, you will see me again.

Her body is metal, though she has a few sensors on the top of her head, the sides of her body, and the bottom of her TV! Which means you can pet her with her feeling it! Isn't that sweet?

Sparkles can't open her eyes, but she can see!... Kind of. You see, her eyesight is very poor. She will run into walls... And legs... And everything. And she can't exactly turn around fast to avoid these things. Hence, the room PJ carpeted for her.

Next time you hear the pitter-patter of silicone paws on the ground with a very loud "MEW!" behind it, say hi to her!.. And give her back to PJ, she isn't meant to escape-!

~

wwwwoah. This is. lots. whoops, hehe.

Well! Hope you like it!

[mysticcrownwolf]

I have not watched arcane but I follow enough people that do to have to general idea of what it's about and I am calling it right now the only reason this fandom demonize Vi is because they like Jinx and by extension Silco so all the bullshit ass enabling he did with Jinx for years will be forgotten because Vi punches her for killing everybody she ever loved and then the people in this fandom who don't have even a quarter of a brain cell to rub together will be like well Jinx suffered so much because of Vi because she had suicidal thoughts and see people meanwhile Vi deadass saw everyone she loved die in front of her, then lose her only remaining family to Silco and then spend her whole childhood in prison. Like the people in this fandom can't comprehend morally grey characters or even think that their faves can be complex people who can do bad things if the narrative shifts that way.

Look me in the eye and tell me these people have a single thought in their head while watching the show because the writers said these two seasons are the Jinx and Vi story. That they will probably make more arcane stuff but these seasons are focused on the sisters and so why do I see post like I wish Vi didn't have so much screen time or I wish Vi and Cait story wasn't the main focus here and the show focused more on "insert any background narrative they wanted to see" like bitch go fuck yourself.

Like I have never seen such a large group of people utterly incapable of media literacy it's like they need to be handfed concepts like:-

"A doomed narrative means no happy endings at most you get a bittersweet one"

"Your fave can be a bad person and still be your fave you don't have to justify them as a good or reasonable person (and demonize their equally traumatized sister looking at you weirdly purist Jinx fans) to continue liking them.

"Metaphors and parallels shouldn't be spoken or spelled out for you. You as a viewer are suppose to understand then yourself using your brain"

"Good people can do some bad things this doesn't make then irredeemable and bad people can do some good things this doesn't suddenly makes them fully redeemable"

"If a shows ending is ambiguous it doesn't mean the writers were too pussy to commit to a proper ending it means they purposefully made it ambiguous so their can be more than one interpretation for it"

"Not all good stories needs have good or even satisfying happily ever after usually in a doomed narrative you just survive to live another day"

"Just because someone's trauma manifest in a more visible way doesn't mean another characters didn't suffer at all (still looking at you Vi haters)"

To summarise do I think the people who can't see a nuanced story like arcane without generalizing everything in black and white and then complaining about how it's bad are all brainless idiots with the mental capacity of a third grader with no capacity for media literacy or reflection. Yes. Is it probably a baseless generalization. Probably. Do I care. No,fuck you'll and all your arcane hate post you all tricked me into reading by disguise them as actually analysis.

If I can pick up on the subtle nuances and non linear narrative of arcane by just reading Tumblr posts and watching some clips on YouTube you people have no reason to have this shitty of an opinion when you actually consumed the full media.