#mochi fic

[mochinomnoms]

say you can't sleep, baby, I know

NSFW!Trey x Reader

Synopsis

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”

[wc} - 5,258

[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat

[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!

Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)

Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.

Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:

“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”

Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think. 

He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose. 

That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible. 

Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.

“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”

“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”

Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.

“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”

“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”

Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge. 

“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”

Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.

“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap. 

Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger. 

“No need to be a brat.”

Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim. 

“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen. 

Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day. 

Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on. 

That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.

It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up. 

They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room. 

Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine. 

Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders. 

“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.

He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair. 

“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”

He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him. 

“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.

“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”

Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.

To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.

He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.

“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him. 

The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.

It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen. 

cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!

Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.

luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘

Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together. 

He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays. 

Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again. 

cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉

Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him. 

Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.

As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed. 

He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.

“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers. 

He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.  

“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”

Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.

Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern. 

“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”

Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present. 

“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”

Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice. 

You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings. 

Holy shit you were wearing stockings.

“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”

You're trying to rile him up, right?

“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”

He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.

“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”

Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt. 

“Happy Birthday Trey~”

It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.

He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake. 

But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.

How could he be expected to sleep now?

Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.

Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up. 

A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile. 

“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”

You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace. 

“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”

He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex. 

“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”

Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?”  “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”

The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages. 

“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof. 

He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole. 

“Trey! Oooh, Trey~” 

Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick. 

“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”

Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.

“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”

So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin. 

“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes. 

“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”

Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking. 

“Haaah—”

Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth. 

“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock. 

“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”

A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off. 

“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft. 

“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”

Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”

A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly. 

“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”

Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver. 

“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”

A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure. 

“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”

Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip. 

He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it. 

Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.

“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.” 

Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”

In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole. 

“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him. 

Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.

Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.

His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock. 

Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him. 

“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”

“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all. 

Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy. 

Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him. 

Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion. 

Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him. 

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”

Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees. 

From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play. 

Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.  

“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips. 

“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”

Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries. 

Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear. 

Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?

Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.

“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”

Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined. 

“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”

Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak. 

Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time. 

Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.

Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms. 

Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.

Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy. 

“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”

You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss. 

“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”

Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did. 

“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”

You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.

As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes. 

“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest. 

Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy. 

“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”

A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back. 

“I love you too…”

*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm. 

“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses. 

“Glasses…glasses…ah..”

Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.

“Mmm, honey?” 

Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes. 

“Early…”

You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well. 

“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”

“…Ugh, I do?”

Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get. 

“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.

“Ugggh, yeah…”

Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered. 

He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.

“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”

Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.

Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses, 

Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine. 

“Ah! Trey, what is it?”

cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!

“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”

You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”

Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you. 

“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”

He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world. 

At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[eldritchmochi]

Hey Mochi! I'm writing my first smut fic (my dnd party has a romance going on and its consumed my thoughts so drastic actions are being taken). Do you have any tips or tricks? You're writing in coping skills specifically is just so so good in sex scenes and I'm curious if theres anything you've noted helps when writing that sort of thing

MANY TIPS except maybe not actually ive been doing this for so long that a lot of it is second nature and also a LOT of it is just... normal ass writing advice lol

but for ur consideration:

🔥 HOT TIP #1: dont be afraid to use ur characters names. similarly dont be afraid to use the same word for other nouns, like body parts, tools, etc. it is a lot easier to keep things clear and flowing when you, as the writer, arent trying to use a synonym for everything, so that your readers don't have to do math lady meme faces trying to figure out what limb is whose

🔥 HOT TIP #2: this is hard for a lot of people i know that i am a weirdo who basically transcribes video when writing, but the better you can visualize whats going on in ur scene, the more effective your description of movement and interaction will be, ESPECIALLY with stuff in close contact like smut (or fight scenes, or dancing, and so on).

🔥 HOT TIP #2a: if you are in a situation where you can comfortably just.... watch porn, i highly recommend this, not only to help visualize how bodies act and move during sex, but to broaden ur scope of sex acts. i spend an absolutely wild amount of time watching teaser clips of all sorts from indie models on twitter and my ph algo is absolutely *fucked* lmao. same as visual artists should use reference as needed for their art, so should writers, and ur not gonna be able to write *everything* from personal experience

u can also absolutely use other smutty mediums for reference, like comics or illustrations, photographs, or yeah writing, but if you are not a particularly visual thinker, having some sort of specifically visual reference to base stuff off can be very helpful, from what some of my writing bros have shared

🔥 HOT TIP #3: vocab is really *really* important in smut. i have Opinions on words for junk and jizz and all that, but when it comes to writing, the words you use *gotta* match your characters voice. its super subjective, especially in fanfic, and can definitely be fluid depending on the situation, but it has to be consistent with your characterization across the board, with strong internal logic

equally important are the words you *don't* use--if your pov character is stuck up and nervous and a little prudish like the way i tend to write essek, using euphemisms or otherwise talking around the gross specifics can really emphasize that characterization and lead to really vulgar turns of phrase hitting super hard (ie esseks internal monologue going "caleb could spit in esseks mouth and essek would thank him for it" or whatever it was is incredibly striking because so much of esseks desire is not explicitly voiced)

you can legitimately use any kind of dick+ vocab and make it land when its paired with the right character and situation, though the weirder you go the harder it is to make it work

🔥 HOT TIP #4: write what you find hot. if u write shit u specifically are horny for, it will shine thru and people will go nuts for it. follow ur weird lil heart, have fun with it, yes-and with ur dick in hand and ur smut will be fabulous

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Random thought but what ab the tenjiku guys with a ticklish s/o, and I mean ticklish in almost EVERYWHERE (hips, neck, CALVES😭😭) nsfw?

Tenjiku x Ticklish!Reader

♡ SFW and NSFW, fem reader, fingering, oral->fem receiving, fucking, men being pervy and horny ♡

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Mochi, Mucho, Shion

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷

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Izana

🎴 Tickles you every chance he gets and is absolutely merciless

🎴 Will tickle you until you cry and then laugh at your tears

🎴 It always ends with you pinned underneath him while he fingers you and apologizes for tickling you (he's not sorry btw)

Kakucho

🩷 Only tickles you occasionally and probably apologizes for it after

🩷 Didn't realize you were ticklish damn near everywhere until you started squirming around while he was rubbing your thigh

🩷 Takes the rest of the day to discover every ticklish spot on your body

Ran

💜 Threatens to tickle you as a punishment

💜 Pretends like he's about to wrap his arms around your waist just to tickle you

💜 Tickles you during sex, usually by accident but sometimes on purpose because he thinks it's funny

Rindou

🩵 Kisses your neck a lot even though he knows you're ticklish there, he just can't help himself

🩵 Lightly runs his fingers over your thighs when you sit in his lap and rolls his eyes when you start moving around

🩵 Started tying his hair back while he eats you out so it doesn't brush against your thighs

Mochi

🍡 He tickles you just to hear you whine

🍡 Pinches you then tickles you when you let your guard down

🍡 Puts you in a full nelson and ends up tickling your calves

Mucho

🔷 You're ticklish all over and he's not ticklish at all

🔷 He won't tickle you unless you try to tickle him first

🔷 Holds you extra tight when he fucks you so you don't think he's trying to tickle you

Shion

🖤 He's ticklish too and is always starting tickle fights with you

🖤 Literally chases you around the house like a damn lunatic trying to tickle you

🖤 Only admits defeat under special circumstances, which is usually when you pull him into a hug and bury his face in your chest

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @prncessrindou @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[starlost-mochi-x]

hello 🙊 for the prompt list thing may i request 17 + 28 with lino or jisung pls 😌 excited to see what you'll come up with heheh

i had fun with this request, anon. it's kind of sad so maybe i'll write a little part 2 to it but ig we all need some angst from time to time. i was actually going to write jisung for this fic but i'll save him for another ><

rose - lee minho

pairing: lee minho x reader

summary: you and lee minho, the smartest student on campus, get unexpectedly paired up to work on an assignment

genre: kinda angsty ngl, escalates quickly, college!au, mutual pining, mentions of being thrown out a window (it's a minho fic what do you expect)

a/n: this isn't really how i saw it going but fuck it we ball. dividers by @kodaswrld

⛓️ prompts: 17. "Why are you looking at me like that?" / 28. "You're looking at me like that again."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

"It doesn't make sense," you groan, dropping your head into your hands. Giving up completely, you drop yourself further into the mess of books and papers scattered across Minho's low desk.

Today, the sun is watery and filters weakly through the wide windows of Minho's dorm bedroom, making everything seem pale and slightly colder than usual. You rub your feet together under the desk, your fluffy socks providing some comfort, before it evaporates as you turn back to the part of the assignment you've been struggling over for the past hour.

Minho is sitting across from you, embedded in his own section of the assignment; his head is bent and he sits with his back straight, his elbows positioned so that they just touch the edge of the table. He is pale in the weak sunlight and the only movement he makes comes from the slight flicking of his wrist as he neatly scribes down notes, apparently unaware of your predicament.

He looks like a statue, you think.

"Hey, Minnie," you hum lowly, resorting to annoying him instead of re-attempting your part of the assignment. "Help me out."

"No. And don't call me that."

You groan, pressing your fingers down onto the table and pushing several miscellaneous papers his way. A couple of sticky notes go flying too, and Minho sighs irritatedly as he plucks one off of the collar of his pristine white shirt.

Your eyes follow the trail of his hand as he lowers it, before it creeps back up. His top two buttons are undone and you can see the attractive glint of a necklace, a sleek chain perhaps, against the perfect porcelain skin of his throat-

You sigh. Of all people, why him?

You wish you'd been allowed to choose your own partner for the project. But your professor had other ideas in mind and decided to pair up random people 'to facilitate teamwork and spark new connections' or whatever. Something like that.

Much to your disappointment, you'd been separated from your friends and teamed up with Lee Minho. You knew of him but had never actually talked. Unless you counted that one time where you'd run face-first into him as he'd been coming out of the college library. And all that had been was a rushed apology from you and a slight, huffy glare from him.

He was kind of strange, you thought. He always sat at the front of every lecture, always finished his work way before it was due and scored perfectly every time. Without missing a beat and without breaking a sweat. It was so incredibly irritating.

On top of that, he was popular, usually swarmed by friends and other students whenever he walked the halls. Not that he seemed to notice most of the time. Or maybe he just didn't care. Maybe he was a robot. It would explain his behaviour.

A really attractive robot at that.

You crane your neck a little, peering over the stacks of books between the both of you and see that he's almost done writing up his notes for his section. All without even so much as a glance in your direction. Your page isn't even half-full and you're stuck.

"Why'd you ask me to come to your dorm if you were just gonna ignore me?" You whine.

"Because," he says calmly, "it's easier than having to do it over the phone."

Little shit.

"What about the library?" You retort. "We could have just gone there."

Minho doesn't take his eyes off the paper and he doesn't reply either. Faint colour rises in his cheeks but you're too wrapped up in your own current problems to notice.

"Minho, come on. We're supposed to be working together." You tilt your head and fix him with a pleading gaze, half-despair, half panic. You're not dumb, and maybe not incredibly smart like Lee Minho either, but this assignment is difficult. And it's harder when he's refusing to help.

You don't take your eyes off of him, deciding to keep your gaze fixed on his face until he chooses to acknowledge you. You wait almost ten minutes before he looks up again, and he jolts slightly, like he hasn't realised you've been fixated on him all that time.

He stiffens. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because. I need help."

"You're clever. Figure it out on your own."

Your heart flutters from the rather direct compliment but you choose to ignore it. "Minho, please."

He smirks suddenly, a short bout of apparent confidence, teasing as he imitates you. "Minho, please."

You swear and lift a fist but he doesn't even flinch. He looks at you quietly and his smile disappears, then he gets up and crouches down beside you, poring over your page.

He hums. "You didn't write shit."

You groan. "Yes, I know. Thank you for clarifying."

"You're welcome," he murmurs, unfazed, eyes fixed on the page.

It's then that you realise how close he is; he's not sitting down fully, leaning on the balls on his feet, a temporary sitting position. One hand is on the desk and he's leaning in a little, his mouth moving slightly as he exhales out words, skim-reading your page.

He smells good, you think.

Minho is there for what feels like hours but is probably a few seconds, and then he leans back, fixing you with a stare. You feel the unusual warmth of his presence near you fade, like a mug of hot tea gone cold, and a bitter feeling rises in your throat. You open your mouth a little, maybe to prepare for whatever insult he's concocted, but it doesn't come.

What does come is an unexpectedly gentle explanation of your section of the assignment. He moves a little closer to point things out on your research papers, so close that if you turned your head, the tip of your nose would brush his chest. He's looming over you a little but you feel strangely protected, and you find yourself relishing in the almost-contact of Minho being there beside you.

So much so that when he leans back to clarify that you've understood what he's been saying, you find yourself as a loss for words. All you can do is gaze up at his stupidly perfect face, mind whirring with many thoughts but none as present as the fact that you hadn't been listening and now he will probably throw you out the window.

"Y/n."

You blink once, slowly, stupidly.

"You're looking at me like that again."

And maybe it's the fact that this whole thing feels unreal, or that the assignment has you so dazed, or that you're working with Lee Minho of all people, but you suddenly find your hand reaching up to brush a strand of soft hair out of his eyes. It trails down until your thumb rests gently in the middle of his plush bottom lip. You expect him to move back, chide you, glare, push you away.

But he doesn't.

Later, you will be embarrassed by this memory, and the fact dimly registers somewhere in the back of your mind.

It seems to register in Minho's mind too, because his eyes widen a fraction and suddenly you find yourself falling off the soft, ethereal cloud of fantasy into the real world, where consequences and rational thoughts exist, though they didn't several seconds earlier.

You jerk your hand back and he looks almost disappointed, but you don't notice. A strand of fumbled apologies leaves your mouth as you stand, almost tripping, and quickly collect your belongings.

Minho has his hands out, seemingly trying to stop you, but his face is burning and unsure and you brush past him, fleeing as your eyes sting with tears. You rush through the unfamiliar setting of his dorm and eventually find the door.

"Wait," Minho gasps, seemingly out of breath. From what, you don't know. He still has his hands out, but he doesn't move to touch you, maybe afraid that he might scare you or cause some sort of unwanted reaction. Not that you're not already having one.

"Please," he says, quieter. You're still fumbling with the lock on the door, back to him. And you're not listening, too dazed and afraid to turn and face him. Humiliation washes over you in waves.

You feel so embarrassed.

But Minho has yet to throw an insult or a glare. He's just standing there, his hands out, almost reaching, and an expression of near-worry on his face. It looks strange, like he's not quite sure how to move his features to express it. In other situations, you would have laughed. Now all you want to do is cry.

The lock on the dormitory door finally gives and you rush out, disappearing down the hallway in a blur. Minho lets out a last, frantic 'wait' and considers rushing after you, but his rationality tells him it would just make things worse.

He pushes the door shut in a haze and sinks down against it, his hair ruffling against the smooth, white wood. He finds himself out of breath again, like he's been running, though he hasn't, and his stomach feels funny. Like something is leaping around inside it.

It's not unpleasant, almost a nice feeling, but it's unfamiliar and Minho has learnt to recognise that unfamiliar is usually not a good sign. He's supposed to know things and the feeling won't stop, so he puts both hands on his stomach to try and press it out, maybe.

But it doesn't work. Flashes of you run through his mind and the feeling only intensifies. His face feels like it's burning and he is bewildered, rosy in the weak sunlight. And he has a sudden, strange longing, yearning, maybe, to see you again.

Is it because you touched his face like that and he kind of liked it, maybe? Is it because he enjoyed having you around even though you're not a friend, or is it because you're a familiar face at college, and familiar is good and familiar is safe? He doesn't know.

A rather raw feeling surfaces in his chest and he almost gags at the unexpectedness of it. Suddenly he's on a stormy ocean, waves ravaging and lightning flashing all around him. He falls off his boat and loses his grip on the anchor and sinks into the cold, dark sea.

It runs down his cheeks, staining them wet and salty. And he's not one to be overemotional or show much of it in the first place unless there is a real reason, but he can't stop.

Minho puts his head in his hands and cries.

a/n: part 2?

[funkyplantguy]

established relationship scarian where scar finds A Creature of some sort (dealer's choice) and starts in on the whole "Can we keep it?? 🥺🥺" routine to grian

i was originally going to go with a cat, then a baby warden (listen idk) then an ACTUAL baby...then landed on this (and giggled and kicked my feet the entire time as i wrote it). hope you enjoy :D

scar: g scar: grain scar: grian scar: light of my life scar: where are you? scar: i have gift grian: fishing dock scar: shoulda guessed scar: be there soon <3

grian stretched, quietly groaning to himself as his back (and wings) crackled in delight at the movement, tired of the endless hunching they’d endured over the past several hours. a gift from scar (especially an unexpected one) was sure to be…interesting. they’d been together long enough that scar knew what grian liked, of course…but sometimes…the “gifts” his partner would bring him would be more for scar’s own personal amusement than anything else.

not that he really minded, of course. not when that meant getting to see scar light up like a kid on christmas. scar was always so full of life - always giggling over something or other - and it just reminded grian of why he’d fallen in love with him in the first place. and honestly, that was gift enough for him.

despite all of that, he wasn’t quite expecting scar to bring him something...alive.

grian heard the chirping from the small bundle in scar’s arms before the man had even landed, and couldn’t help the inquisitive trill that forced its way out of him in response. and that, of course, set scar off - mimicking the noise with his own (very human) vocal cords (which only served to produce a melody akin to being strangled). he stared at grian with wide eyes as he touched down, and grian felt his cheeks burn under his gaze.

“g! i’ve never heard you make that noise before - that was so cute, do it again!”

“no,” grian chirped back, then pressed his hand against his mouth as scar laughed in delight. “scar - what is that?”

“it’s a baby!” scar responded, moving closer and tilting the bundle in his arms towards the avian. “look - it’s a little you!”

grian uncovered his mouth to retort - he very much doubted that scar had somehow found a baby avian wandering around hermitcraft - but another quiet chirp caught his attention, and he found himself leaning forward to peer over scar’s arms. and there, nestled in a pile of soft, brown blanket, was the ugliest baby parrot grian had ever seen in his life. and yet..and yet…

grian didn’t even realize that he was whistling until the baby returned his birdsong, eager little chirps and gurgles spilling out of its little fleshy beak. it tilted its head up at grian, blinking, and grian offered up a trembling finger into the makeshift nest. the chick nuzzled against it, purring softly, and something in grian’s heart felt like it might burst. he raised his face to his partner, and found scar’s gaze transfixed - but not on the parrot in his arms, but him. their eyes locked, and scar offered him a smile - something soft and warm, something that made grian want to kiss him more than anything in the world.

“can we keep it?” he whispered, and grian let out a short (wet) laugh.

“i…scar, where…where did you even find it? it’s so little…i can’t imagine its mama would have been far; she’s probably worried sick…do you really want to take the little guy from his mama?”

scar’s lower lip wobbled (and grian felt like he might be the worst person in the entire world for it).

“he didn’t have a mama! i sat and watched and waited for hours, gri, and nobody came for him…he was just all alone, on a branch in the jungle, and i got worried that something was going to come along and eat him! and…well…i figured you’d know how to take care of him. given that you’re…y’know.”

he gestured toward grian’s colorful wings with one hand, and grian’s feathers rippled obediently in show for his lover. from scar’s arms, the tiny bird chirped again, raising its little head and struggling to flap its wings in the same way grian had fluttered his. scar looked down to the parrot, then up to grian, eyes wide and sparkling as he jutted out his lower lip.

“see! he agrees! he wants you to be his new mama!”

(and if grian’s heart fluttered in his chest at the suggestion of being a mother, that was no one's business but his own. that was a topic to be discussed later - much later, in the warmth of each other’s arms and the shield the darkness their room offered for grian's vulnerability)

“we could name him…um…jeffrey!”

“scar - we are not naming our son jeffrey.”

“our son???!??” scar parroted back, jerking his head up from where he had dipped it to stare down at the chick in his arms. “our son??? so…we can keep him? really? you mean it?”

“yes, scar. i mean it,” grian responded, smiling softly at the hopeful peep from the newest member of their little family. “we can keep him.”

(and the way scar pulled him into a kiss, then, was the greatest gift of all)

[angeart]

@mochiwrites HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! <3

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 7

Contents: relationship, establishing feelings, slow burn, office kisses.

Warning: Things get a little ... spicier from here on out. Content warnings will be given for the relevant chapters.

You lingered with him in the little alcove, listening to the rhythm of his breath in the grooves of your ear. You lingered on the stairs leading back to the car. You traced the elusive outline of his fingers with yours, again and again, committing them to memory. There were no words passed between the two of you, from the moment he'd kissed you outside the restaurant, until you parted ways outside your apartment. There was no need for words. Neither of you wanted to break the spell that this evening had cast upon you.

When he finally said goodbye, the hoarseness of his voice, the softness of it, was enough to tell you how much he wanted, how much leaving you there was costing him. It was the same in your mind, of course. Discipline, control over desires, the measuring of love in increments until some vital point was reached, what was the need for it all?

You'd happily open your front door to him, lead him into a place you'd make sure he'd never want to leave. And yet, there was still something holding you back. It must be the same for him. Something that had been slinging you both in natural trajectories, the orbit of celestial bodies that slowly swayed each other's tides until the season came for you to be closer than ever.

You could be patient for this. You could watch this sweet, gentle unfolding between the two of you, as patiently as a predator in ambush. If nature was to take its course, then it was well worth the wait.

The way Kento walked you to your door without touching you, but then snatched up your fingers and pressed them to his lips, told you how much he valued your time together. It wasn't so much that he had kissed your fingers, it was more like he was committing the feel of them to his lips, as if he'd drink from the sensation on every night he'd spend without you.

Until the night it wouldn't be necessary any longer.

He began to make an effort, of course, to bind your lives more fully together. The things that were important to him were things he wanted to share with you. Sometimes, those moments of sharing were performed unconsciously on his part, in ways that made you want to take his face between your palms and plant soft kisses on his eyelids.

On one fateful afternoon, he'd purchased some specialty mochi from a store near where he'd been posted for duty. He knew how much you loved them freshly made, with red bean filling.

You hadn't seen him for almost a week at this point, messaging him regularly to check up on his safety and whether he was eating and sleeping on time. He always replied promptly, unless deeply occupied with something.

When he strode into your office that evening, the small parcel in one hand, tie slightly askew, you knew he'd rushed to catch the last train to be here. Jujutsu Tech vehicles were not always on call at this time. You stood and beamed at him, watching his shoulders relax and the tension that hung about his face disappear.

At work, you both were very careful to keep gestures of affection to a minimum. Not that you were concealing what was growing between you. It was simply a matter of not wanting anyone else to intrude on the moments between you that were truly special. Nanami couldn't help himself, though.

Drawn across the room, as if in each other's magnetic pull, you both met halfway, his hands coming up to enclose your own. You gently extricated one of them and brushed it lightly over his forehead, smoothing out some of the lines there.

"What's this in the bag?"

"Mochi. The kind you like."

"You should have gone home and rested. The mochi could wait."

The soft smile you were giving him took the edge off your strict words.

"Hmm. But it was fresh. I saw them stocking the shelves."

"Come, sit. I'll make you some tea."

He sank onto the couch set to one side of the room with a sigh, loosening his tie. Unable to help yourself, now that he was in your presence, you traced the line of his jaw delicately on your way to the kettle. Kento leaned slightly into your touch. He didn't have to tell you how much he'd missed you.

The kettle was soon boiling merrily while you prepared the cups and saucers. You kept many different tea blends in your office, and you knew, by now, which ones he preferred. You could feel his gaze tracing down, over your shoulders and back, down to your hips and then to your fingers on the smooth porcelain.

He insisted that the mochi was for you, and that he wouldn't eat any of it. Kento could be as stubborn as a bull when it came to things like this. Sighing slightly, you took a sip of your own tea, then a bite of the mochi, Kento's eyes now following the shape of your lips over the rim of his cup.

You almost choked.

Now this was unexpected. Glancing down, you desperately fought the urge to burst into laughter when you realized what had happened. He'd purchased mochi filled with natto instead of red beans. In his rush, he must have got them mixed. Natto wasn't a common filling either, but this was a specialty shop, so it must have been made on the day.

"Something wrong?"

"Not at all. They're so soft and fresh. It's been a while since I've had any like this."

"Oh?"

He looked so pleased with himself that you silently patted yourself on the back for managing to conceal that so well. At that moment, the door to the office burst open and Gojo strolled in. Tall and charismatic as ever, he glanced around, gaze almost traveling right over you as he focused on the target of his attention.

"Nanami! Why are you holed up in here? I've been looking for you all over. Where's the report?"

The tension lines on Kento's forehead were back in full force.

"I'm attempting to sit down and take a break after a long day, as you can clearly see."

Gojo grinned and knocked Kento's knee with his shin.

"Okay, Mister Grump. But where's the report?"

"Filed with Ijichi, obviously. I always send my paperwork in first thing. You know this."

Gojo clicked his tongue and Kento's eye twitched alarmingly.

"Why you gotta be so proper. Now I have to go find Ijichi."

"You could have - "

"Ooohh, what's this?"

To your immense alarm, Gojo had spotted the mochi. Everyone and their grandmother knew about the special grade sorcerer's penchant for all things sweet. You attempted to push them aside slowly.

"Uh, you don't want these. They're - "

"Huh?" He pointed at you, scandalized. "Are you trying to keep them all to yourself?"

"What? No, I - "

Kento stood and folded his arms in a manner that showed just how much he meant business.

"Gojo, leave those mochi alone."

"Oh hell no. You go all the way to the mochi store I've been dying to go to all week, and you don't even get me any? What kind of friend are you?"

Before either of you could stop him (for very different reasons) he grabbed one of the mochi and popped it into his mouth. He chewed happily before stopping suddenly, face crumpling, gagging slightly.

"What the hell? Why is there natto in these?"

Kento turned, very slowly, in your direction. Studiously avoiding his gaze, you cleared your throat.

"That was at my request. I love natto mochi. That's why I tried to stop you from eating them."

Grabbing your half-full cup of tea, Gojo took a large gulp in an attempt to wash away the flavour.

"Natto mochi? Why? Just .... why? Oh, never mind. Thanks for trying to stop me anyway. Oi, Nanamin, you owe me some strawberry mochi for next time, okay?"

So saying, the whirlwind that was Gojo exited your office, footsteps shuffling away on the floor outside. You examined your fingernails. Kento's gaze was burning into the back of your head.

"Ahem. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"No?"

"Why didn't you tell me these were natto?"

"I like natto."

"Liar."

You huffed out a small laugh, finally meeting his disapproving expression with a mischievous one.

"Fine. I'm not a fan of natto. But you were so happy to give them to me, Kento. I just wanted to see you smiling and looking relaxed for a change, so I - "

Before you could utter another word, he had plucked the glasses away from his face with a decisive motion and taken two strides into your space, his arms coming up and surrounding you in an embrace that pulled you like a vice into his chest.

"Kento?"

Your voice was a little shaky, not in an unpleasant way, as he leaned forward without hesitation, tilting his head. You swiftly dodged away, your breathless laugh mingling with his own unsteady breathing.

"The door isn't closed all the way. And I've just... wait! I've just eaten natto, you - "

His mouth was positively hungry on yours this time. Regardless of whatever flavour was lingering there, he was pushing you back until the desk collided with your thighs, his hand coming up to grasp and tilt your face until your mouth fell open helplessly against his. He was licking into you like a man starved, pausing in between to whisper to you about how he'd missed you, how he wanted you, how you looked so beautiful today and now his lips were on your throat, then on your mouth again, teeth knocking against yours, clumsy in his passion. There was something so fierce, uncontrolled, so primal about the way he was touching you, as if every restraint he had placed on himself (and by extension, yourself) had come crashing down among the rapidly narrowing spaces between your bodies.

Your hands were on his shoulders, and it probably looked as if you were trying to push him off you, but you were actually bracing yourself as something warm and molten started to run straight down the middle of your body, making you hyper-sensitive to his touch, to the feel of him on you. He was so large, so warm, so solid, the ripple of sinew against underlying muscle so evident under your fingers. You could run your hands over him like this forever, mapping out every new delight he laid bare for you.

Something like sanity was beginning to make itself known to the both of you now, the awareness of where you were, of the rules of propriety, and Kento removed his mouth from yours with a twist of his neck, looking away from you, breathing hard. He was now murmuring a soft apology, but you weren't having it. You covered his mouth with your hand and tugged slightly, making him look at you again, forcing him to take in your appearance, as he'd left you. He was none the better.

You removed your hand and took him in, the flushed cheeks, the blonde strands coming down around his ears, the glazed molten honey of his eyes and moistened lips. This man was so beautiful, he'd be the death of you. You told him so, and he gave a small, slightly disbelieving chuckle. But you let him read the truth in your regard of him all the same, the way you were drinking in the sight of him.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say Kento was overcome with a little shyness then. He lowered his face and his nose found purchase on your collarbone. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly, but gently. After a few moments of him basking in your embrace, he pulled away and cleared his throat, smoothing out his shirt. You took in a steadying breath and did the same to your own rumpled appearance.

He spent the remainder of your shift seated at a safe distance behind the other desk in the room, using the desktop PC to order up a replacement for his leather blade holster that was showing signs of wear. At times, your eyes would catch his, regarding you with a certain kind of tenderness in the dim glow of the office lamps. That expression was new. You delighted in it, as you did in every new aspect of himself he revealed to you.

When your shift ended, he insisted on walking you to the train.

Of course, he apologizes for his behaviour later. Even though the thought has long since ceased to bother you, he has been going over it in his mind, as you expected. He was the one who initiated the kiss in your office, after all. When you arrive home, warm up the food you'd pre-prepared in the fridge and finish with your bath, your phone is lit up with a small, insistent reminder.

Unable to help the small laugh that escapes you, you read his message.

"I don't know what came over me earlier. Please pardon my behaviour. I'm not offering excuses, but I did miss your presence."

The infinite sweetness that wells up inside you threatens to have you type something that you might want to take back. Like inviting him over so that he can fall asleep in your lap while your fingers card through his soft hair.

"Please don't apologize. I enjoyed that as much as you did, and you know it."

"You did?"

"Absolutely."

There is a pause before his next message.

"I did miss you."

"I missed you terribly, Kento. Was it a tough week?"

"Not difficult. Just draining. On surveillance."

"Please go to sleep soon."

"Are you already tired of me?"

"Are you already being melodramatic?"

"Nobody has ever called me melodramatic before."

"You just hide it well."

"As well as my desire to hold you?"

Your fingers still for a moment. How brazen.

"Not as much as my desire to kiss you all over your handsome face."

"You find me handsome?"

You can clearly picture that subtly pleased expression of his and almost roll your eyes. Of course Kento wouldn't take much note of his own appearance.

"Can you think of anyone who wouldn't find you handsome?"

"That's a matter of perspective."

"Name one. Go on."

"Gojo."

"Now you're playing dangerous games."

"How so?"

"If he were to receive an anonymous email asking him to sing praises to your beauty all week ... "

"All right. I take it back."

"Too late. Now go to sleep."

"Have mercy on me."

There is a small pause before his next reply comes.

"Goodnight, my darling."

For a long time, before you go to sleep, your heart hums a pleasant, warm rhythm to that word.

@tsukimefuku @kentocalls @actuallysaiyan @g-kleran

[duckimate]

" If it weren’t for the fact that Solara had to pay attention to the sun, he’d never want to look away. "

hey so would anyone believe me if i said this was grian lmao (alt caption: dont you hate it when you mention grianmc and the camera pans to some celestial being)

here's my near-annual offering fanart to!! grumbo Solar Eclipse au by THE iconic @mochiwrites ofc, but the POV's been switched?? :O

BIG SPOILERS GAP DO BRIDGE WITH CARE !!!!!! .

Mumbo's POV during their eclipse ceremony tgt :D

since in the original fanfic, the eclipse ceremony was in Solara's POV, so most of the focus was on Proteus's movements and how Solara was oh so entranced by them, and would've been even more so had he not been focused on his own duty of raising the sun as well

SO!!!!! i've always wanted to see this, but in Proteus's POV :D I'd imagine that Proteus was in the same predicament as Solara lol but the other guy was just too entranced to even notice he's being admired right back as well <3

also yes if you look closely he is smiling >:( cant make his swooning look too obvious now lmao they still got a job to do

anyways. mochiwrites. i hope you know that im so ever grateful for this fic that has gotten me through BOTH highschool and now, college!! hehe <3 everytime im reminded of this AU it's like im being taken over by an art spirit or smth

[mochiroreo]

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

Dark!reader x Rafe Cameron

TW: M18+ NON-CON, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, implied heavy smut at the end, degradation, non-consensual use of drugs, mentions of rape and domestic violence, mean!rafe, psycho!dark!reader, non-consensual recording (sorry not sorry rafe lol)

Author’s note: I am back just to post this blurb cause I love dark!Rafe but I also want to read something about the reader being the unhinged, pyscho one 🤭 . Also, this is unedited so if you see some wrong grammar or wrong spelling.. no you didn’t.

“Hmm..” a dull, throbbing pain made him tightly closed his eyes. His body feeling heavy and sluggish. He felt like he slept in a wrong position for two days, with how his muscles are aching. He was about to stretch and move his arms when he felt a tug that restricted his movements.

“Wait.. wha—?” The sensation made Rafe open his eyes, his baby blues scanning the room in utter confusion. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light, looking up at his wrists tied together above him, and his legs tied to the bed frame. “What the fuck..?” He mumbled in a slurred manner, his baby blues darting around the room before feeling the bed dipped beside him.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Rafe immediately looked up, his breath slightly hitching with how close your face is.

“A-angel?” He whispered his nickname for you, confusion more evident on his face now with his brows scrunched up. “How— why—“ Rafe’s questions were cut off by your giggle, airy and as if the whole situation is amusing, making his jaw tick in irritation.

For him, maybe it’s not as amusing. For you, however, it is definitely the highlight of your life.

“What are you doing? You think this is funny?” He asked, voice low and threatening, as if he is not the one tied down tightly on your bed right now. You just looked at him with a soft smile, a soft hand landing on his forehead to smooth the creases between his eyebrows before affectionately running your hand through his buzzed hair.

“Oh no, Rafey. I just think this suits you..” you words hanged onto the air, making him anticipate what’s next. “After all, isn’t this what you had planned for me? I just switched up who will be the victim.” You answered, ignoring the slight widening of his eyes with your answer.

His heart was thumping loudly inside his chest now, feeling the rope’s roughness that bound both his wrists and ankles. “W-what? I don’t— I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” Rafe looked straight into your eyes, trying to convince you. Yet your smile sent a chill down his spine.

“What do you mean? I know your plan silly!” You giggled, biting your bottom lip which made the boy gulp. “I am very much aware of the Kook king’s personal life and the rumours surrounding you, you know. The rape allegations at the parties after slipping some drugs on their drinks. Or maybe asking them to drink a bit too much. I have also heard how much you have punched and kicked your previous girlfriends.. lucky that your daddy knows how to bail you out!”

Your eyes travelled down Rafe’s disheveled state, the buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a slither of tan skin underneath. His taut muscles evident as he squirms to move. While you were distracted, Rafe tried to free himself, struggling as the rope got tighter and tighter the more he tried to escape.

“Where was I? Oh! And so— I have heard from Topper how it’s now my “time” apparently. Then there you were! In front of my house, asking me to drink with you cause you were feeling lonely. I knew you slipped a drug on my drink,, so I have beat you to it and knocked you out.” You admitted with a shrug, moving away to stand up while still watching Rafe closely.

“You’re fucking crazy. I-I didn’t even— wasn’t planning to do anything!” Rafe tried to reason out, gritting his teeth when the rope wouldn’t budge.

“Really? Cause the rope that I used was from the back of your truck. I even found some little baggies.” You inserted your hand inside your bra, the action making Rafe stare straight to your chest and take in what you are wearing.

You wore white lacy set of lingerie, hugging the swell of your breasts and thighs, accentuating every dips and curves as if you were carves by the gods to look like a literal angel on earth.

Except, you are holding every variety of drugs that Rafe owns with a big smile.

Each bag has some different sized pills and powders, which you were sure were party drugs and coke from his drug dealer best friend, Barry.

“Now come on, Angel. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t touch what’s not yours? You don’t even know shit about drugs or-or how expensive those are!” He groaned, unable to do anything. Rafe is at his limit, his patience running thin as he think of the things he will do once he breaks free from the ropes, promising to himself that he will definitely fuck you to the point that you’ll beg him to stop plowing your abused cunt. Your appearance and his imagination making his thick cock hard despite his anger.

“Hmm.. I know which drugs is which. I think I stalked you enough to know which one is your favourite other than coke.” Moving closer, you brushed your hair away from your face. “And to be honest. I thought you would have more.” You grabbed a bottle of water on the bedside table before straddling Rafe’s chest.

The action made Rafe’s shorts tighter with how painfully hard he is, his point of view accentuating your breasts, seeing your nipples perky from the cold air inside the room. Once again, he struggled with the intention of trying to free himself to grab you and slap the shit out of you while drilling his cock to your wet pussy, he gritted his teeth and whispered menacingly.

“Now now, Angel. We can do this without the rope.. you know? If I have known you were a little freaky.. I would have asked you properly instead of what I was planning to do.” His words made chuckle, raking your manicured nails on his chest, making him let out a low groan.

“But where’s the fun in that?! Besides it would be unfair to just let you do that.. knowing how much you’ve been a bad boy here in Outer banks..” leaning forward, you balanced yourself and gripped his arms, slightly rutting your clothed core on his stomach. The action made Rafe groan, his anger disappearing as he thinks that you are just a closeted little freak that is now removing your disguise to fuck him. Rafe’s hips were bucking slightly, loving the hazy look in your eyes as he lets you to revel on the power you have over him right now.

“This is exciting, but I want to make it wayyy more pleasurable for us two.” Dragging your tongue on his collarbone, you moved away to grab one of the baggies containing some neon pink and green pills making Rafe eye you suspiciouslly. As far as he remember, he did not order some odd looking pills from Barry.

Grinning at him like the devil, you took two from the bag before going back to your position, your left hand tracing the bottom of his lips as you bite your own. Rafe’s lips parted, his pink tongue slightly peeking, urging you to lean down and finally kiss him.

The kiss was hot and messy, and Rafe kissed you like a man starved. His tongue immediately invading your mouth, savouring the slight dominance that he has knowing that he cannot escape your bed to flip you over. Rafe was so into the kiss that he did not feel both of your hands wrap around his neck.

Your hands were getting tighter and tighter, making him pull back with wide eyes that is staring right straight to your in panic.

“A-angel— hey hey..!” He tried to fully scream at you, nails slowly digging into the flesh of his neck. Rafe was slowly running out of air, his vision swimming in the dark while looking at you smiling so gently to him as if you aren’t choking him to death right now. His lips parted in a silent scream, before you let go to forcefully shove the pills down his throat which almost made him puke.

You let go once the pills were stuck down his throat, Rafe immediately heaving and gasping for air, making the pills slide down with his spit. He didn’t waste any time to steady his breathing, immediately screaming at your face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH, I WILL FUCKING RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND YOUR FUCKING PUSSY IF I GET OUT OF HERE! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” His neck was red, veins popping out from him screaming directly on your face. You faked a sniffle, eyes slightly watering before you broke into a laugh.

“Woah calm down, pretty boy!” You managed to squeeze out as you continue to laugh, making Rafe jolt with the want to punch you down and force himself on you. “I just want to make sure you drink the pill candy without a fight.” You stated, offering a water bottle pointed at his lips. His breathing was erratic with anger, nudging the bottle away from his face before it dawned on him.

“Fuck—“ he mumbled. “What the fuck are those pills?!” You just shrugged, shaking your head as you so. “I have enough of your bitchy brat games, you fucking psycho! What the fuck are those pills!” Wiping down the spit that landed on your chest, you sighed giving him a faux pout.

“It’s just something to relax you.. and maybe give you more strength as I use you the whole night?” As if on cue, his cock that went soft with the stunt that you pulled suddenly hardened, blood immediately rushing down south. Rafe’s body slowly started to feel hot, he feels so lightheaded that his eyelids were almost closing on him while he tries not to pant and control his breathing. “Shit shit shit” he mumbled in panic, mind swimming with all the possibilities what the pill might be and what it might do to him.

You cut his thoughts short when you swiftly undressed him, his eyes wide and watery as you blow air on his clothed cock that was immediately weeping before letting it spring free. You thumbed the continuous flow of his pre-cum, making him buck his hips for more. Your touch was cold on his burning skin, a soft whine passing by his lips when you gave his leaking tip one kitten lick.

“Fuck please— what— what did you do to me..?” Rafe whispered softly, slowly losing his mind with the need and desire to feel your mouth, cunt, or your ass on his dick that is now standing proudly against his stomach.

“Nothing really. I told you I’ll make sure to make this more pleasurable for us, didn’t I? Must have been frustrating to be on the receiving end, huh?” Straddling his waist, you move your lacy panties aside to rut it on his cock, his pre-cum making it slide easier on your sopping wet pussy. You continued your actions, ignoring Rafe’s please to let him put his cock in you.

“You know.. I’ve heard how much you wanted me.. how much you think you can ruin me, to manipulate me into your ‘slut’. But I don’t want to be one of those girls that you took advantage of, Rafey. I want to be special, I want something more.” Your body was slowly getting covered with a light sheen of sweat, lips so close besides Rafe’s ear as you lick and tease his ear lobe. Soft whines and gasps escaping your lips before smirking as Rafe tried his best to listen to you despite him slowly losing his mind.

“So I decided to just show you, decided that maybe I’m the one that can break you..” Rafe lets out a deep strangled cry as he cums, body vibrating with the intensity of his ejaculation while he shut his eyes close. “Oh my, you just cummed but you’re still hard, Rafey!” Your statement made Rafe open his eyes weakly, vision slightly blurry with unshed tears, his cock more sensitive that ever.

Your left hand encircled his thick shaft, slowly dragging your palm up and down, making Rafe choked out a sob “‘s too much— please— fuck— ‘s too much” Rafe rambled, making you stop playing with his cock; giving him soft kisses on his cheeks, kissing his tears away. “Oh shush, don’t cry Rafey. I will make you feel good, make you feel so so good.” You whispered against his flushed skin, licking the lone tear that slid down while you console him.

You grabbed the water bottle and popped a pill on your tongue, Rafe watching you with blown out, unfocused eyes. “See? I took one as well!” You stated, slowly getting rid of your lingerie which made Rafe’s cock bob up and down, pre-cum once again leaking out of him despite coming just seconds ago.

“Gonna show you how special I can be, Rafey.” Whispering on his skin while you trail wet kissed down his chest, Rafe sobbed when you lightly bit his nipple, the action making him cum once again. You felt his warm load spatter on your ass, making you giggle.

“ ‘m gonna show you how I can make you feel like a god.” You eyed his drowsy state, drool sloppily pooling on the side of his mouth. Lightly tapping his cheeks, he opened his eyes before you pointed at the red dot on the corner of your room, which he eyed for a moment.

“Don’t forget to smile.”

[mochirimochi]

Someone Else

William Afton X Reader

I continue to wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit.

Part 2 in a series. I strongly suggest reading part 1 first, but you do you.

p1 ● p2● p3 ● p4

-----

William spots you attempting to make a quick escape through the security cameras. He decides to make a quick call to demonstrate the... benefits of sticking around. You're his, afterall.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3500 words, no use of y/n

------

content: extremly dubious consent, voyerism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, degradation kink

cw for abusive relationships

You can also read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51615532

-----

You slowly blink your eyes open and it takes a moment for you to remember why you’re lying with your face down on a musty old couch cushion. You sigh and force your pounding head up, attempting to ignore the screaming pain in your hips and back. Why in the world were you so sore? You’d slept on worse couches than this one and they’d never done you this dirty before. You’d had the most vivid dream as well, the strangest, most frightening, and yet also the most… stimulating wet dream you’d ever had in your life. 

You push yourself into a seating position and a sharp twinge between your legs gives you pause, as does the breeze over them. Slowly, you look down and realize your pants and underwear are tangled around your ankles. Still tangled around your ankles.

Fuck. 

The events of the night before come flooding back to you with all new clarity and you bury your head in your hands with a groan as it sinks in. You don’t know whether to be ashamed, terrified, or uncontrollably aroused. Actually, you seem to be managing to feel all three things just fine. When you stand up your hips practically scream, and after a moment you feel something warm and viscous begin to slowly drip down your thighs. Your cheeks and ears burn with what must be the most intense blush you’ve ever felt.

First order of business is going to have to be getting clean. You’re sure you can manage that literally, but figuratively it feels like you might never achieve it again. You pull up your jeans and underwear and limp your way out of the staffroom on stiff, aching legs. Around the corner you spot a bathroom and you push your way through the doors. To your surprise and relief it not only contains the regular amenities, but also a cramped shower stall. It makes sense, the mascot suits the staff wore sometimes must have gotten awfully hot on the inside, you’d probably want your employees to freshen up a bit after wearing one before they went back out to interact with customers.

You reach in and flick on the shower, twisting the knob all the way to the top of the hot dial. You don’t really have any hope for hot water, but you can dream can’t you? The shower spits out a stream of cold, rusty water that thankfully clears after a few minutes. While the water flows you strip out of your clothes and use a fist full of the paper towels that are thankfully still in the dispenser to scrub off the worst of the grime that’s accumulated in the stall. To your utter shock the water eventually begins to warm, and you gratefully step into the hot shower.

There’s no soap of course, but it’s better than nothing. You rub your hands over your body, flinching when you hit a large bruise on either hip. Unbidden, your mind slowly starts to drift back to the night before. You remember the way his nails sank into your flesh, his iron grip as he’d slammed into you. A shiver runs through you and you don’t even have cold water to bame it on. Before he left you last night he grabbed your panting form by the hair one last time, pressing his face into your neck and licking you from collarbone to ear.

“Stay as long as you like.” He’d practically purred, pushing his cheek against yours as you whimpered helplessly. “As long as you let me collect rent.” With a sharp nip to your jaw he’d finally let you go, allowing your limp body to crumple onto the couch. You must have passed out after that, because the next thing you can remember is waking up.

Just thinking about it makes desire curl in your stomach all over again, but it also makes your blood run cold. You can’t be sure, but you don’t think he’d come to you that night looking for sex. No, you have a feeling his intentions had been much, much worse than that. It seems to you like you survived that encounter through sheer, dumb luck. The best option for your continued survival is probably to beat a hasty retreat and find somewhere else to lay low. Yes, that’s definitely what you should do, but even as you mentally commit to getting the hell out of dodge you can’t help feeling a pang of disappointment. You can't remember the last time you were so uncontrollably and unreservedly turned on. None of what happened last night should have aroused you. You know on an intellectual level that it was deeply, deeply wrong and dangerous. Your body however, feels differently.

Your body isn’t the boss of you though, and as you turn off the water you resolve to pack up and leave. It’s better to be left wanting than left for dead after all.

You do your best to dry off with the paper towels, a frustrating affair that leaves you mostly still damp and you struggle your way back into your clothing. There isn’t much to be done about your wet hair, so you settled for running your fingers through it to tease out the worst of the tangles. Without letting yourself think about it too much you hurry back to the staffroom and begin to gather your things. You don’t have much to grab, just your flashlight and bookbag. The guts of your phone are still spread out across the floor and for some reason you feel compelled to pick them up and drop them into the nearest garbage. It feels like disrespecting the building by leaving trash around would be the wrong move to make.

After peeking out the window to make sure the coast is clear you shrug your bag over your shoulder and hastily make your way down the hall. You can’t help but feel like you're being watched as you walk, and your brain pictures a large yellow figure looming behind every door you pass.

Just as it seems like you’re going to be able to make your way back into the main area of the building, something stops you in your tracks. The sharp and abrasive ring of an old fashioned phone pierces the quiet and you twist towards the sound. It’s coming from the room next to you, helpfully labeled as the “security office”. You continue to peer into the room as the phone’s shrill ringing echoes in the empty hallway. You can’t think of any good reason that someone would be calling the long defunct business and dread begins to pool in your gut.

The phone is not your problem though, and after a few more piercing rings it falls silent. You give yourself a shake and try to move on, taking a few steps forward and reaching for the door to leave. Just as your fingers brush the knob the phone rings again, causing you to practically jump out of your shoes. You turn back towards the room, staring at the door in trepidation until the ringing stops. It has to be a coincidence, right? You stay frozen for a few long minutes, but the phone doesn’t ring. It could easily be a wrong number you reason, or kids calling on a dare. You reach out for the door one last time and your heart begins to hammer as the ringing once again fills the silence.

Not a coincidence then.

With a gulp you begin to move towards the security office, stepping through the door and casting your eyes around the room in search of the phone. You spot it sitting on a cluttered and dusty desk, just behind a rickety old fan. Your hands shake as you reach out and pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

–

William has been glued to the monitor from the moment he arrived in his office. Connecting the video feed from the pizzeria to his office at the counseling center had been a simple endeavor, and one that he had found necessary to keep an eye on his… wards over the years. He’s thankful for it now as he watches you blink the sleep from your eyes. The sight of the dark purple bruises forming on your hips and ass sends a wave of possessive pride through him that has his cock twitching in his trousers, and he hisses in disappointment when you pull up your jeans to cover them. 

He watches in amazement as you effortlessly navigate the halls and disappear into a bathroom. What is it about you? How can you survive unscathed and with such little effort where so many before you struggled and failed? He knew the animatronics knew you were there, he’d watched you bumble right into Freddy the night before. Yet somehow they had no desire to pursue you, they even seemed to be actively avoiding the areas of the building they knew you were in. Were they trying not to frighten you? It stokes a deep curiosity in him, the same one that had driven him to visit the pizzeria in person last night for the first time in years. 

What makes you so special?

That curiosity had been all that motivated him the night before, but now he finds he has an even better reason to keep an eye on you. Claiming you last night was thrilling, and now that he has that he wants to do it over, and over, and over again. He’d watched you sleep all night through the security feed, stroking his cock as he replayed your dalliance in his head until he couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been so wanton, so pliable. It was exquisite. 

His brows furrow when you emerge from the bathroom (damp clothing clinging deliciously to your frame) and begin to pack. It’s immediately clear that you’re planning on leaving.

Now, that just won’t do. He’s just gotten you, he won't be letting you go that easily.

He didn’t expect you to pick up the first call, but when you ignore the second his teeth clench in frustration. 

No, that won’t do at all. You’re his, and things that are his do not ignore him.

When you finally begin moving towards the phone the wait is agony, but he relishes the fear in your eyes as you lift the receiver.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

–

You suck in a deep breath at the familiar voice, your blood is pumping so fast you can hear it roaring in your ears. The mix of fear and desire from last night comes flooding back to you all at once and you squeeze your legs together despite yourself. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to stay here.” You lied, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I was going to find somewhere else to stay.”

“Now that won’t do at all. Here I’ve offered you room and board out of the kindness of my heart, and at such a reasonable price. You wouldn’t throw all that back in my face by leaving, now would you?” His voice is smooth and even, taunting you. The underlying threat in his words sends chills down your spine.

“I appreciate all that, thank you.” You push the words out quickly. “But I don’t want to impose on you anymore. I’m sure I can arrange to stay with someone el-”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He cuts you off with a harsh growl. “You’ll stay where you are like a good little slut.”

You flinch at his words, but heat floods your stomach.

“Please, I can’t stay here forever.” You whisper, clenching your fingers around the phone cord.

“The way I see it, you don’t have much choice in the matter. You’re mine now, little mouse, let’s not forget that.” 

A whimper forces its way past your lips, and you can’t be sure whether it’s in fear or in longing. You hate that your body is reacting to him like this. You’ve just jumped headfirst from one terrible situation and straight into one that’s even worse. And yet you find yourself practically buzzing with anticipation. You shake your head to disagree with him, but it doesn’t have much conviction behind it. 

“There’s no use fighting it, little mouse. Besides, you didn’t seem to mind it last night.”

“I’m not. I can’t.” You gasp, but you don’t know what it is that you can’t do. Can’t stay here? Or can’t fight it? Does it even really matter?

“You can and you will.” His tone is sharp, demanding. You can feel your chest heaving in desperate breaths and his next words fill you with a delightful dread. “I want to hear you say it.”

“No.” It comes out in a whisper, and even to you it doesn’t sound very convincing.

“I want you think very carefully before you say ‘no’ to me again.” He speaks slowly, and the words sound like they’re coming from behind clenched teeth. “Now say it.”

You clench your fingers even tighter around the cord and feel the hard rubber press into your skin. After a moment you finally manage a response.

“I’m yours.” It’s barely audible, no more than a breath, but you know it’s true the moment you say it. Just admitting it fills you with a shocking longing.

“Again.” 

“I’m yours.” Louder this time, it comes out in a breathy moan.

“That’s my good little slut, I knew you’d make the right decision.” He chuckles into the receiver, but his voice is deep with arousal. You clench your legs even tighter and grasp at your stomach with your free arm, desperate to relieve the throbbing heat at your core. “Does that get you off? Knowing you’re all fucking mine?” The rumbling of his voice in your ear and the desire behind his words has you gasping.

“Yes.” God, you wish he could step through the phone and take you right there, bend you over the desk and fuck you into oblivion.

“Then be a good little whore for me and take off your shirt.”

–

God, you’re exquisite.

Hearing your whimpers, watching you give in to him, knowing that you’re his? It’s enough to drive him insane. His cock is straining at the seam of his trousers and he can’t resist the urge to free it any longer. He takes himself in his hand with a satisfied groan, letting his head fall back against his chair and closing his eyes for just a moment to drink in the pleasure.

When he looks up again your hands are tangling themselves in the hem of your shirt as you chew your lip, pinching the phone between your ear and your shoulder. Just as he’s about to repeat his command you slowly begin to pull your shirt up.

You tip your head just so as you lift your shirt off over it, giving him the perfect view of the love bite he’d left at the base of your jaw as a parting gift. His cock jumps in his hand and he groans in satisfaction. He wants to leave his mark on every inch of your body, leave evidence of his presence everywhere he touches. His attention shifts to a deep, mottled bruise at the base of your neck, one that he knows he didn’t leave. The groan turns into a growl. He remembers the pathetic man whose voicemail he overheard you listening to the night before. The thought of another man putting his hands on you, leaving a mark on what’s his, fills him with rage. Your body is for him and him only, no one but him will ever touch you again. He’ll have to find a way to pry his name out of you, although the thought of anyone’s name but his on your lips makes him sick.

His attention comes back to you as your shirt drops to the ground. He’ll have time to worry about staking his claim on you later, he decides as he watches you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for his next direction.

“Now the bra.” He breathes into the phone and watches as you slowly pull down the straps and undo the clasp, baring your breasts to him for the first time. He wishes that the monitors were bigger, that he had more than one angle to appreciate your delectable body. He wants to touch you, but settles for stroking his cock while he watches you squirm for him. He sees your eyes roaming around the room, looking for the camera that you must have realized is there by now. When you finally find it, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes he can’t suppress a groan. 

You're all his, and he plans to take full advantage of that.

–

You don’t know what’s come over you.

Your chest is heaving, your whole body trembling as you hang on his every word. A small part of your brain is still rebelling, telling you this is capital “B” bad and you should turn around and run straight out that door and never come back. But that thought can barely surface before it’s washed away by a flood of earth shattering arousal like you’ve never experienced before. You really should run… but you won’t. 

His voice comes through the phone again.

“You wish I was there don’t you?” His voice was like velvet brushing against your skin. “Wish I could bend you over that desk and take what’s mine.” You gulp, had he seen your hungry glance towards it earlier? You nod frantically.

“I can’t hear you, little mouse.”

“Yes, please, come take what’s yours.” You rasp, you hear another groan on the other side of the line.

“Well then take off your pants and show me how much you want it.” You almost drop the phone in your haste to rip your jeans off and another deep chuckle signals his approval. “Now sit in the chair and face the camera.”

You do it without a thought, swiveling the chair around and crumbling heavily into it. Your practically soaking panties are the only barrier between your ass and the seat. 

“Spread those legs for me, I want to imagine my face between them.” You obey with a moan. You’re desperate to touch yourself, desperate to plunge your hand into your panties and relieve the thrumming pressure between your thighs. You don’t dare to deviate from his instructions, so you sit there, the cold air and your arousal forming goosebumps on your skin.

A few minutes pass before his next direction, you can hear his deep breathing through the phone as it quickens. You realize with a gasp that he must be touching himself and the image in your head makes you throw your head back and groan. The thought of him stroking his cock to the sight of you is almost enough to push you over the edge and you haven’t even touched yourself yet. You haven’t even taken your panties off yet.

“Please.” You beg, and for what feels like the hundredth time in the last few hours you don’t know what it is you’re begging for.

“Stroke that pussy for me until you cum like the little slut you are.” He barely has time to groan out the words before you plunge your hand into your panties. You’re so sensitized that you gasp when your fingers meet flesh. You imagine that they’re his fingers and you whimper at the image. The sound of his ragged breathing in your ear tells you he’s matching your frantic pace.

“No one else will ever make you feel like that, little mouse.” His voice is tight and strained.

You groan as your hand works with feverish intensity. You’re so close.

“Whose are you?”

“Yours”  You’re gasping for breath, his voice driving you wild with desire.

“Who owns your pussy?”

“You.” There isn’t anything you won’t agree too right now, as long as he doesn”t stop talking.

“And you won’t try to leave again.”

“Never.” You practically sob out the words, your brain going blank as your body takes over.

The intellectual part of your brain is sounding another alarm and desperately waving a red flag, but the red heat of your desire outweighs everything. You scream as you reach your peak, twitching and spasming as your muscles clench with a strength you’ve never known before.

You hear his breath stutter, and his deep groan sends another wave of pleasure through you. You imagine him coating his fist and thighs in his cum, all the while watching you from wherever his video feed leads.

Neither of you speak for a long moment, the only sounds filling the room are the twin sets of ragged breaths that come from you and the man on the other side of the phone.

“You won’t forget who you belong to again.” His words are both a threat and a promise. When the receiver clicks and the dial tone assaults your ears you collapse out of the chair and onto the floor, still quivering.

You are literally and figuratively fucked.

[chochuuya]

bar man.

characters that i think suit are: takeomi akashi, ran haitani, kanji mochizuki, yasuhiro muto, south terano, shion madarame, baji keisuke & hanma shuji or.. your choice!

disclaimer/note: fem!reader, might be ooc, aged up.. i'm taking about he is single and ready to mingle, he is possessive and bold, usage of pet names, mentions of alcohol & smoking, overall fluff (◡ ‿ ◡ .)

wc: 1.6k [1613]

he is a friend that you recently met in a bar down the streets of tokyo. a pleasant man to be with, honestly.

for some reason, he is not present in his usual timing.

a random guy sitting beside you noticed that you’re alone and started up a conversation, your attention completely on him that you didn’t even notice him walking in, smoking a cigar.

irritated and impatient, he grabbed your face and blew a smoke onto you.

“oi, stop talking.”

your cheeks were pressed together without warning and you coughed at the ill-scented smoke of the cigarette as you closed your eyes.

“what the hell are you doing wasting your pretty lips talking to a stranger?” his tone pissed off and firm.

“he was just keeping me company. i thought you weren’t coming!”

“well, i am here. and he won’t need to keep you company anymore. he’s in my way.” he said, looking annoyed, as he pushes the stranger away from you. the stranger gives you a dirty look and left the bar.

he then took a seat beside you and placed both of his hands on your knees.

“did you miss me?”

you chuckled in amusement. his confidence and ego is something else. it’s fascinating.

“not really.”

“you’re lying! if you didn’t miss me why would you be smiling?” he said smirking, leaning his head closer to you. his face just inches away from your own.

“you’re such a liar, missy. you know you love the attention i give you. i don’t see anyone here as perfect as you. perfect little (y/n), so delicate and vulnerable.”

you scoot further away as you turn your head. “geez.. i would actually like you even more if you quit smoking for once.”

he rolls his eyes and puts out the cigar then places his hand back onto you. “i know how to make you like me even more, i know what buttons to press, baby. i know it all. do you know what i mean?”

with an eyebrow raised and a sip of out your drink taken, you asked out of curiousity. “enlighten me then?”

he leaned back into his seat and ordered an ale from the bartender. he waited for his drink before taking a sip and looking to you.

“the way to make you love me is to make you jealous.” the gent turned to your other side and smirked at a lady that was looking in your direction.

he then turned back to you.

“did it work? you’re all mine, your attention is on me and me only, baby.”

“why would i be jealous when you’re not even my man?” you deadpanned.

“oh really? maybe we should fix that then, darling. wouldn’t you want me to be your man? to spend nights with me? to be with me 24/7?” he said as his tone dripping with arrogance.

“i don’t like men who smoke too much.”

“i can quit, i promise. if i quit, would you date me then?” he said looking genuinely interested and no hesitation.

“date..?”

“what? did i say something wrong?” he asked looking at you as if you’re being a bit ridiculous. “you’re acting surprised when it should be the most obvious thing in the world, i can see and feel the flirting from both parties. it’s not like anyone can deny the chemistry we have. you obviously have a crush on me. don’t lie.”

you left him on heard as you let his words sink in.

the chap’s face dropped as he watched you drink quietly, before he spoke again. “fine, you want to play the hard-to-get game do you? it might make me want you more. but know this, no one plays the game better than me, and i know how to win.”

“i won't stop until i get what i want.”

you let out a scoff as a way to taunt him. “sure.”

“you like to play dangerous games, huh? good thing i like the danger.” he chuckled in amusement.

you take the cancer stick out of his mouth and push it on the ashtray with a smirk. you’re going for the kill now. “danger? like your past days?”

his face dropped as you killed the cigar, he let out a quiet chuckle before looking down at you and clenching his jaw in annoyance.

“what do you know about my past?” he looked at you firmly, waiting for you to answer him and it’s the first time you saw his mood change.

you simply shrugged your shoulders as you drink, hiding a smile. oh, you got him now.

“you aren’t exactly good at hiding that enormous tattoo on your body that’s peeking its way into the world.”

he kept staring at you and you saw his eyes looking over you, judging you to see if you were actually truthful or just bluffing. he stayed quiet for a moment.

“you were looking at my tattoos? you must really like me, sweetheart.. now, explain to me what you know about my past, or you’re leaving the bar with one less tooth.” he was smiling but his gaze was still sharp and intimidating.

you laughed quietly. “is that a threat? i wasn’t even judging you.”

“oh, you have no idea how threatening i could be. so, do talk, my dear,”

he kept sitting right by you, and you start to feel him get a lot closer as he takes a puff from the cigar still blowing the smoke on your face.

“and you know i can be a bit violent when i need to, but to someone as delicate and cute as you, i will make an exception. now tell me darling, what do you know?”

you rolled your eyes. you’re starting to believe that he’s just all muscles.

“and here i thought we were getting onto something. it’s not that hard to open and read the newspaper or something. i’ve seen those tattoos on the news alright? chill out.”

“and you know those tattoos are associated to gangs, right? so i must be quite dangerous then.. don’t you think?” he smirked as he continues to stare at you.

“tell me one more thing, do you like dangerous men?”

that caught you off guard and you actually broke into laughter. “you- you really are something!”

“why is that so hilarious? you’re not afraid of me?” he asked, visibly confused. it seems your reaction is something he did not expect but he was still grinning.

“why should i be? you’re just a man who have moved on from the things that you did back in those days.. right?”

“you’re a very perceptive woman, i’ll admit.”

“the past is the past, it stays in my mind but i won't let it stop me from living in the present.”

the gent smiled, reaching out to pat your cheek, his fingers brushing against your soft skin.

“so, i don’t scare you? then what are you waiting for? to marry me?”

“...”

TAKEOMI, ran, mochi, mucho, SOUTH, shion, baji, hanma.

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

this fic is a celebratory post for me getting more than 150 friends on tumblr! thank you sm for staying and liking my works as much as i enjoy writing them (｡・//ε//・｡)♡ as usual, all likes & reblogs are vv much appreciated~

[mochinomnoms]

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd, and Six is a Riot

i. thievin’, stealin’, takin’ what’s not yours

[wc} - 6,835

[notes] - hehe

make a choice at the end...

back to chapter list

i. thievin’, stealin’, takin’ what’s not yours

Listen to: "Taking What's Not Yours" and "Lovers Rock" by TV Girl

After learning who your friend Hornton really was, people would expect you to be a bit more formal with him. 

After all, they could excuse your lax demeanor and loose words with him due to your unfamiliarity with the Wonderland’s political and royal spectrum. 

But now knowing exactly who is the Malleus Draconia, the heir prince of Briar Valley, did not stop you, and quite frankly no one should be surprised. 

You were his friend, first and foremost, and Malleus believed that fact with all his heart. You both did have to admit that it was very funny seeing everyone’s reactions to your casualness and affections to each other. 

Though Malleus was much more reserved compared to you, anyone with eyes and a single functioning brain cell could see that he was ever so gentle with you. 

He hung on to your every word like it was rapture, fascinated with your stories of home and humans, even if you weren’t like the humans of his world. 

Especially because you weren’t like the humans of his world. 

In turn, you were attentive to him, ensuring that you spent your time with him to the fullest. Maybe it was because he was your friend, or maybe you also knew what it was like to be lonely, but you loved outings with him. 

It could be nightly walks in the woods near Ramshackle, it could be sharing a new flavor of ice cream with the same spoon, or it could be the words that only you two and the stars over the Diasomnia dorm shared. 

In any case, you two were most endeared to each other.

It’s why no one was surprised anymore as you hanged off his arm as you two and Grim walked to his next class. It was actually quite comical, the way you swing your arms together, hands clasped, as you talked his ear off about your last class. 

And from the small upward twitches of his ears and the small smile on his face, Malleus was absolutely basking in your attention. And amused by the swinging.

“And then I was like, ‘no Ace, I told you to not put the nightshade in the potion you chuckle-fuck, it’s gonna turn into goo’ but he was all like,” You mocked Ace’s voice as you continued, ‘I’m the one with the magic, so I’m the one that knows what they hell they’re doing’” 

You were laughing as you told the story, the corner of your eyes crinkling. You both ignored the looks of students walking past you, giving you (Malleus, mostly) a wide berth of space. Once even gave you a look as they noticed your hands together. 

“Then, like I told him, it turned into goop, right before a big ol’ bubble formed and popped all over him! He was covered in green, it was hilarious.”

A soft snort left you as you covered your mouth to quiet your laughter. The swinging relaxed,as you climbed up the steps to the castle. Malleus tilted his head, eyes softening as you looked at Grim padding to your right, rambling as well. 

“Nyah! That big dumb-dumb is always underestimating me, I only pick the best of the best for my henchmen!”

“Snrk—you tell ‘em, Grim.” You gave Malleus an amused look, gesturing for him to lean in closer to whisper, “He also wanted to put the nightshade in the mix, by the way.”

Chuckling and straightening to his full height, your friend’s smile faded into something more concerned, eyeing Grim, who decided to speed up and pad up the steps by twos. 

“While it is ideal that nothing more happened, perhaps you should encourage your companions to exercise more caution, I’d rather not hear from a third party of your harm if something were to happen.”

You felt his hand in yours tighten, tugging to closer to his side as he gave you a stern look. 

“I know that you aren’t afraid of me. But with all the troubles you seem to get into…I’m starting to become afraid…of losing you.”

You think you could feel your breath hitch and a warmth flood your face, as you looked away, flustered at the fuzzy feeling in your chest. Instead, you turned your gaze back to Grim to watch as he hopped between rectangle to rectangle, avoiding the lines. 

“You worry too much! I got Grim!” You cupped a hand over your mouth and called out, “Right Grim?”

“Huh? Yeah! Whatever you say, I’m the Great Grim!” 

Both of you choked a laugh as he tripped over a rock and fell on his face. Finally letting go of Malleus’s hand (you missed the way he flexed his hand from the missing warmth) and jogging to your now whining direbeast.

“Owie!! (Naaaaame)! I’ve been fatally injured! Tend to me, henchhuman!”

You scooped up Grim, who was licking his wrist like a wounded kitten. Turning back to Malleus, you gave him an apologetic smile and gestured towards the main castle doors with your head. 

“We have a lot of time until class, so I’m going to go to the infirmary just to make sure he isn’t actually hurt.”

“Hey!”

 Malleus nodded in understanding, using a curled finger to pet the top of Grim’s head, who begrudgingly leaned in to the touch.

“Of course, I should get to my own classroom, I’d hate to be late.”

“Hornton, it’s like 45 minutes until class starts.”

“Exactly, I have such little time to make it to the room. My seat might be taken.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that most people wouldn’t show up until 5 or so minutes before class. 

“What do you even have that makes ya want to show up so early?” Grim questioned, not particularly aware of the way you were cradling him like a baby. 

Malleus’s eyes glinted in amusement as he gave Grim a polite smile. 

“It’s an advanced Ancient Magic course, and though I find myself already familiar with most of the topics we cover, today we are discussing looking glasses.”

You and Grim both made a confused noise, tilting your head in opposite directions. 

“Like, a mirror?”

Shaking his head, Malleus looked unusually eager to explain the concept. 

“Not exactly, though they are a type of magic mirror. A looking glass is a tool used to view one's potential futures. It requires a ritual to turn a regular mirror into a tool and is rather difficult.”

You could feel Grim’s tail whip against you in excitement as you both listened eagerly.

“Only the most powerful of mages can successfully complete the ritual, and only lasts for 72 hours before the glass shatters beyond repair. I am particularly interested in using it to—”

“I’M POWERFUL! I WANNA TRY IT TOO!”

Grim jumped from your arms into a surprised Malleus, his ‘injury’ apparently healed at the thought of being able to complete a complicated and powerful spell. 

“Let me join the class! The Great Grim can’t wait for two more years to try it out! Please, please, pleeeeeease!”

“Grim! Don’t bother Hornton with such silly—”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be a bother to have you two assist me.” Malleus hummed, tapping a finger to his lips as he held Grim from the scruff of his neck, dropping him back in your arms. 

“I usually find myself without a partner in this class, I would greatly enjoy the company.”

Grim squirmed excitedly in your arms, grasping your cheeks and squeezing as he jumped excitedly. 

“Come on henchhuman! We can skip homeroom! It’s not like we’re missing anything, it turns into study hall anyways! Can we go? Pleeeeease?”

He would hate it if you called him cute out loud, but Grim was such a cute little guy sometimes.

“Mm, I guess we can…but only if we actually get to do stuff,” You wrinkled your nose in frustration. “Last time we joined 3rd year classes, Leona just used me to hide behind and nap, and the other time Vil kept taking stuff out of my hands instead of letting me do stuff.” 

Malleus chuckled, affectionately ruffling your hair.

“Of course, I always value you and your words, my little beastie.”

Hmm, ‘little beastie’ is a new one.

You tapped your fingers against the desk, lazily skimming the book Malleus had left you to review as he was pulled away by the professor into the hallway. 

The professor had muttered something about missing housewarden meetings, and you're pretty sure you saw a glimpse of Riddle’s bright hair at the door before it closed. 

Riddle and Vil’s been complaining that Hornton hasn’t shown up to most of the meetings this year, maybe Riddle actually came to collect him this time.

At the thought of the two, you moved your hand up to fiddle with the tie around your next and smacked your lips, the raspberry flavored lip oil briefly meeting your tongue. 

The tie had been Riddle’s, even still had the little crown on the left side, when he fussed over the raggy state of your old one. He’d insisted that he had plenty and showed you how he tied the bow with a red flush in his cheeks. Very cute, but you’d never say that to his face. 

Vil’s lip oil you’re pretty sure was a pity gift, something he was sent in a PR package. He told you he wasn’t a fan of flavored lip products, but still needed to do a review of the products he’d been sent. Thus, Vil used you as a test dummy for his video review, leaving your lips feeling raw and dry from being constantly rubbed clean by make up wipes. Though, he told you to keep that specific oil, and said it suited your skin tone. 

Now that you really think about it, a lot of the students had been rather…you don’t know. Doting? Sweet? Ever so slightly less mean to you as of late? 

Especially the ones who overblotted this last few months. 

You’re pretty sure you’ve been getting pity gifts, even they can feel guilty of all the trouble they’d put you in.

Some you’re pretty sure was just their way of paying you off without explicitly saying, “Look I’m sorry I almost killed you, but you're stupid for getting involved as a magicless student and I feel bad now take this.”

Idia had taken your cheap phone that Crowley gave you and upgraded it so that it had more functionality to it that wasn’t just sending an S.O.S. signal to your friends. He’d even put it in a clear case that held a dangling blue skull charm, which swung against you when it was in your pocket. 

Leona tossed you one of his made beaded bracelets after you’d complained about Crowley cutting your funding again, leaving you with little to use for repairs and food. He told you to sell it or something and to shut up, as he was trying to take a nap. Never mind that it was your couch he’d decided to sleep on and not one of his usual spots around campus. In any case, it looked nice on your wrist, and it was good for a rainy day in case you did have to sell it.

Azul had also offered you a bracelet a while back, a very pretty lilac one that he told you was made of sea glass. You were wary to take anything from Azul in fear that he’d find a way to put you in debt. Very valid in your opinion, but it literally got shoved onto your wrist when Floyd held you down and Jade slipped in on with a smile. Apparently it had a protection spell tied to it, as Azul mentioned that you were overly prone to chaos. All it cost you was him checking in once a week to see how it held up, you think maybe to sell more in the future?

At least Jamil’s silk wrap wasn’t forcibly shoved into you, though you didn’t appreciate his comments on how unruly your hair was in the mornings. You told him that it wasn’t your fault that water at Ramshackle sucked and that you did your best! It wasn’t enough according to him, and he helped you wrap your hair into the silk cloth to protect it against the elements. While he’d originally suggested that you use it to sleep in, you’d taken to using it for everyday wear, using it as a wrap, as a bandana, even as a headband. Jamil sometimes looked both pleased and frustrated at the sight. 

Pity gifts, you’re sure. 

Ace thought otherwise, though, he and Epel teased you constantly about it. How ‘soft’ and ‘sweet’ they were to you, how you should take advantage and flirt back with them to get a well-off boyfriend out of them. 

No matter how much you insisted that it wasn’t like that, none of your friends believe you. Even Deuce and Jack seemed to doubt your explanations, though Sebek at least stayed out of it.

Ortho was the worst of them, though. “I’ve noticed that at times, their heart rates increase when they’re around you, so Ace might have a point!” which was quickly followed up with, “But you focus on Idia, he’s the most ideal!”

Then it turned into a whole thing of them arguing who would be the best or worst boyfriend for you to get with. Why they were invested in your nonexistent love life, you don’t know, probably boredom and a need to gossip. 

You sighed, eyeing one of the sigils in the book in front of you. Grim was looking at another book, surprisingly focused on reading the words on the pages. 

“Hmph, I don’t get any of this, when is Hornton coming back! I’m getting bored, it’s too hard to understand!”

Pouting, Grim slumped against the desk and made a soft, whiny sigh. 

“Henchhuman, tell me you found something interesting?”

Thumbing through the book in front of you, you noticed a rather fascinating sigil accompanied by some foreign writing along the edges.

It looked a lot like the magic mirror, though the edges were reminiscent of vines and the inside of the sigil looked cracked, like someone smashed the mirror with a hammer. Surrounding the image was an intricate cursive, it looked like some fae script.

“Hmm, this one looks cool. Think you can read that?”

Grim eyed the page you were on, ears perking up as he noticed the infographics on the right. It looked like a visual guide on how to complete the ritual on a mirror. 

“Oh, can I draw that! I wanna try by myself! We don’t need Hornton!” Grim pushed the small handheld mirror that the students had as part of the class assignment.

“Do it!” 

“What? No Grim, these aren’t our materials. Wait for him to come back and ask if you can practice.”

You snatched the mirror away from Grim’s paws, tucking it underneath a different book, and then resting your elbow on top for extra measure. 

“Just wait Grim.”

Not unlike a child not getting their way, he stomped his foot and started throwing a tantrum. 

“I wanna do it! Let me do it! Lemme! Lemmelemmelemmelemmelemmelemme—”

“—Oh. My. God. If I let you draw and practice on my hand, will you quiet down?”

The small creature pouted, eyeing the open palm you offered. 

“...But the book says I need a mirror…”

“Well, the book doesn’t buy and serve you tuna, does it?” You snapped back, raising your brows and moving your hand closer. “Now, I’ll help you practice, but not with Hornton’s materials. Who knows how expensive or rare they are.”

With an indignant sigh and a roll of his eyes, Grim plopped himself on the desk and took your hand in his paws.

“Fine. Gimme a pen!”

You smiled, shuffling through your pen case to look for something he could use. 

“Hmm, I only got pencils and a permanent marker…meh, whatever.”

Handing Grim a black marker, and him eagerly taking it and scribbling the sigil, you stared around the classroom, dazing off. 

The class was already sparse, and you’re pretty sure Vil, Leona, and Idia were meant to be here too, so that made it feel even more empty. Though…the last two probably wouldn’t have even shown up. 

Rook was here, though, conversing with his own class partner as they gestured over their own mirror and textbooks. Nothing escaped his attention, though, as he looked up and noticed you staring almost immediately. 

He gave you a close eye smile and wave, before noticing Grim drawing on your hand and tilting his head in curiosity.

You shrugged and mouthed out the page you two were on. Rook took a moment to flip to the page you were on, confusing his partner. Watching in mild interest, Grim let out a little triumphant sound, drawing your attention once again. 

“Finished! I’m so great at drawing!” You’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since your skin wasn’t flat like a mirror, but it barely passed for the sigil in the book. 

“Great job, Grim, now practice your pronunciation.”

“Okie-dokie!”

Grim still held your palm in his paws, reading off the

“G-ge d'afr-fr-frm-ah-ys hmrian…od…sarl…lo-loysalri-que—no—cu cast!”

You chuckled as Grim struggled to pronounce the words, not paying attention to the sudden squeaking of a chair.

“Turn xiyaurrrr…day-na-r-yo…su liie xi-yie vast! Reflect col rricu…wyn-sash’s? Uh, wynsas’s, weli today…”

Rook calling out your name startled you, turning your head to see him urgently rushing to you.

“But loyricu—wait.” Grim looked back at the book and squinted at the pages. “No, it’s the other paragraph…

By now, you noticed that several of your accessories, along with the sigil, had started glowing in different colors, though Grim was none the wiser. Rook certainly was.

“Trickster, Monsieur Fuzzball! Don’t!”

“It’s fine, I got this! Imma start over!” Grim cleared his throat, bringing your palm even closer as he restarted his incantation.

“Wait, Grim—”

“Ge d'afrmays hmrianod sarl loysalricu cast. Turn xiyaur daynaryo su liie xiyie vast. Reflect col rricu wynsas’s weli suday. But ssarie die to what xiyie fsaadc biercvmirian!”

The glowing intensified, lines of cracks starting to appear from the sigil and up your arm, you even think the room started shaking. 

“W-what? Henchhuman? (Name)! What’s happen—EEEEH!”

You watched helplessly as Rook scooped Grim up, calling out to the others, “Evacuate, NOW!”

He gave you an apologetic look, running out of the room with a crying and thrashing Grim in hand, following the other students out. 

Dread filled your veins, a heavy feeling on your chest and shakes going down your body as you watched the cracks continue forming up your arms onto the rest of your body. 

Scrambling to follow the others, you tripped over your own chair, pain going up your knee as you jabbed it against one of the legs. Nothing but adrenaline fueling you, you clambered to the door and tried pulling it open, pulling, pulling, and pulling until you realized.

You were locked in the room

Through the small window, you could see the small group of students turn into a crowd, everyone watching in horror, but unable to look away, as the cracks slowly grew up your neck. 

You banged on the door and pulled, screaming at everyone to let you out. 

“HELP ME! STOP STARING AND HELP! PLEASE, PLEASE!!”

You could feel your throat strain against the stress you were putting them under, tears streaming down your face as you saw the housewardens enter the hallway, drawn in by the yelling and crowd. 

Riddle was shouting something you could barely make out, eyes flickering over to you briefly before he realized something was happening. He paled, shouting something at the others near him and pointing at you. 

Pain was blooming from where the cracks formed, the glowing growing and turning your skin a dazzling shade of blue, like a crystal. 

You continued banging on the window, watching as the other housewardens made their way to the door to pull it open. 

Even Idia was hovering in the back, unsure of what to do himself. Kalim was pressed up closest to the glass, his own tears growing as he watched the spell take over your features.

You could feel your skin breaking, cracks finally formed over your lips. 

Vil had turned to yell at the group, specifically at Rook, who had actually taken to arguing back at him, the former’s hand waving and gesturing at you. Azul and Riddle were at Kalim’s sides, arguing with each other on what to do. 

Your left eye burned in pain as it was briefly blinded by blue until it turned dark.

The three sophomores were suddenly shoved out of the way onto a pile on the ground as Leona came into view, followed by Malleus on his right. 

“Hornton! Malleus, MALLEUS HELP ME!”

You watched as Leona raised his left hand, his mouth uttering something as glowing yellow sand formed in his palm. He was using his signature spell. 

Unfortunately, it was for naught. 

The last crack finally formed over your right eye, the last thing you saw was Malleus’s grief stricken face as your vision turned blue, then black. 

Then, it all went silent. 

He could still feel the harsh light on his retinas, dots dancing in his vision, even when he closed them. Malleus looked down at the handful of students he’d covered under his arm, hunched over them in protection. His own body moved before he did. 

The three beneath him were curled together, hands over their heads and eyes squeezed shut. One peaked an eye open up at him and squeaked at our close they were to him. 

“U-um, thank you, Prince Draconia, sir…”

Malleus nodded his head, then snapped his head over at a shrieking Grim in Hunt’s arms. 

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO! (NAME)! (NAME)! I WANNA SEE (NAAAAAAME)!” 

The little one was sobbing as he thrashed and swiped at Hunt’s arms, the latter flinching as a claw dug into his cheek. 

“Monsieur Fuzzball! S'il te plaît, calm down! You must understand, you would’ve been burned if you were still in the room!”

Burned.

An impending sense of doom filled Malleus’s chest, foreign and heavy, as he rapidly stood and turned to the door you’d just been screaming through. 

Moments ago, he could see the fear and pleading in your eyes, pale blue cracks growing on your form as you begged him to help. You begged, pleaded, and cried for him, and he was too late to do anything. Now, only a white, dusty fog was in your place, shrouding his view into the room

The other students in the hall were now slowly getting back up. Schoenheit had done the same as he did with a few students near him, while his three younger housewardens had curled into each other, still in a pile on the floor.

Shroud had been in the back of the group, cowering behind a blue panel of hexagons sprouting from his floating skull contraption, with some students behind him. 

Kingscholar was closest to the door, part of which was slowly turning into sand as he was hunched on the ground, hands over his eyes as he rapidly blinked. Tears were flowing from the corners, no doubt from the strain the sudden flash had caused. 

“Tck, my damn eyes… Someone…go check on the damn herbivore…fuck! I can’t see!”

A yowl and a cry of pain caught Malleus’s attention as Grim finally dug his canines into Hunt’s hand, making the human drop him. 

“(Name)!”

The little one ran into the foggy room through the gap Kingscholar’s spell was causing as Malleus tried following him, though another cry made him pause. 

“Ow! What the—Grim?”

“…(Name)?”

Your voice! It was you! You were okay! Never mind that it sounded different, sounded…older. It was you, and you were okay! Malleus breathed a sigh of relief, hovering over the door to wait for enough space for him to squeeze through.

He couldn’t teleport now, he had no clue what spell went off or how it would react to another spell going off so soon.

“Ooh, Grim!” You spoke again, softer though…you sounded off. “Grim, you’re so small…”

“I forgot how small you used to be! Like a little baby~”

“Grimmy, have you been crying—ah! …Hell…o?”

“…Hi? What’s going on, why am I—”

“Why is it so foggy in here, I can barely see—oh! I like your shawl!”

“Oh, thank you! Um, do you—any of you—know what’s going on?”

“Nope!”

You spoke…multiple of you spoke? What?

“You! Go get the headmage and nurse! I…don’t…know what’s happening with the Prefect…” Riddle barked at one of the students, voice faltering as he stared at the rapidly disintegrating door with confusion.

“Y-yes Housewarden!” 

Most of the students followed suit, chasing after their friends until it was only the housewardens and Hunt left. 

Malleus finally had a gap large enough for him to fit, bowing his head to enter before a gray ball of fur rammed into his stomach. Grim must have been barreling out of there like an arrow flying from a bow, because it actually caused a bit of pain.

“EEEEEK! THERE’S A BUNCH OF WEIRDOS IN THERE!!! THEY’RE COPYING MY HENCHHUMAN, SOMEONE TELL THEM TO GIVE (NAME) BACK!”

Everyone made various sounds of confusion, except for Kingscholar, who was still rubbing his eyes and growled. 

“What are you talking about, you little furball?”

“Go look for yourself!”

Malleus and the others shared a look, Asim helping Kingscholar from up the floor and inching closer to the door, now practically gone. 

The others did the same, cautiously approaching the door and entering the room. It was empty at first glance, at least where you’d been. The fog was clearing out now, flowing out of an open window, a figure…no two…three…four…six? Standing by it. 

“There, that ought to—gasp.”

Bright green eyes met with your familiar ones, one of you staring at the group as the other five looked out the window and quietly conversed.

Malleus and the others froze, as did the six, Hunt muttering something in amazement under his breath, staring as if any sudden movement would set someone off.

“Guys, guys!” The…(Name)s staring at them, adorned in silk that reminded him of the clothes he wore while at the Scalding Sands, smacked the other five, making them turn. 

Now that the fog was almost completely cleared, Malleus could properly see the group.

It was indeed you…just older, maybe the same age as Sam? Each one looked a bit different though, some of you had your hair longer, some in an up-do. Some more chubby than others, others more lean, and your clothes. 

The one in the Scalding Sands silks moved closer to the middle of the classroom, allowing space for the other six to approach as well. One of you was dressed in what Malleus was positive was in the royal garb from Sunset Savana. Another one was in some sort of suit, similar style to what Crewel wore, while one in an elegant one piece that shimmered with each movement, ears adorned with jewels. One was in loose, but silky clothing, pearls adoring their neck, and the last behind them was dressed in a dark gray uniform, with the S.T.Y.X. logo on their left.

No matter which one of you he looked at though, you were all breathtakingly beautiful.

“Oh my god!” The one in the suit gasped, hands covering their mouth. Your look one of…delight? “Riddle? Is that you?”

Malleus’s group was still frozen, some of the younger ones flinching at your cry. Rosehearts, at the sound of his name, approached, straightening and taking a few steps forward. 

“Yes, um, (Name), is that—”

Malleus could hear what he presumed was the headmage and nurse approaching, their footsteps echoing against stone steps, at least until suit you squealed again and came rushing at Rosehearts. 

“I forgot how much of a baby-face you had, and how short you were! Come here!!” 

You practically scooped Riddle into your arms, the heeled ankle boots on your feet giving you even more advantage. Speaking of the devil, Rosehearts had a spectacularly brilliant shade of red on this face, his two strands of hair standing straight up. 

Whether it was due to rage, embarrassment, or fluster as you nuzzled a cheek against his forehead, Malleus wasn’t sure. 

“Wha—what—how—P-PUT ME DOWN!”

Shoving ‘suit’ you off, Rosehearts stumbled backwards, shaking in anger as the six of you giggled. 

“How dare—it should be off with your head for such a stunt!”

‘Suit’ you clicked your tongue, placing your hands on your hips and wagging a finger at him.

“Now Riddle, that’s no way for a husband to speak to his spouse! Or, I guess—your future spouse!”

Malleus and the others froze, as did Rosehearts, whose face went white, then back to red again. 

“I—I—I—what did you say?” Rosehearts had a soft, almost meek tone now. Strange to hear from him. “S-spouse?”

‘Suit’ (Name) giggled, nodding a swooning into your hand as you spoke. “Aw~ I remember when you used to still get all flustered around me, no one could ever tell if the red meant you were mad or not!”

“Ah, speak for yourself, Idia’s would turn pink when he wanted to hold hands.” ‘S.T.Y.X.’ you laughed as Shroud made a choking sound, then a thump, to Malleus’s left. “He still sometimes does.”

“Wait, so you married Idia? I’m Vil’s partner!”

“Interesting, Azul is mine! You two are pretty easy to guess, Leona and Kalim? The clothes give it away”

“Ah, yes, for quite some time actually…”

“I’m actually married to Jamil, though I can see why you’d guess Kalim.”

The six of you laughed together, oblivious to the distress happening behind Malleus. In fact, he turned out of curiosity, and it was certainly a scene. 

Shroud had presumably fainted, his fiery hair now extremely pink. Schoenheit was staring at ‘Jeweled’ you, hand clasped over his mouth as Hunt whispered into his ear. Ashengrotto was glowing a light purple from his cheeks, mouth opening and closing, attempting to say something. Kingscholar was looking at his you, the one in royal garb, but had a pained, almost sick expression as he eyed you up and down. Asim seemed to be the only one excited about the situation. 

“Woah! You’re all so pretty! And I can’t believe you married Jamil! He’ll be so excited—or, well, actually—you know what? It’s fine, I’m super excited to meet you all!”

Asim smiled, hands on his hips, until he frowned and asked, “Why are there so many (Names) though?”

You six turned back to Asim and the others, exchanging looks. You all looked confused, concerned even. 

“I…I don’t know. I was with Idia just a moment ago when we started growing these blue cracks on our skin. Then, suddenly, the cracks exploded and I turned up here.”

‘Jewel’ (Name) nodded, piping up. “Same, I was at a shoot with Vil when the cracks appeared, like someone was smashing a mirror, but on my skin.”

The other (Name)s nodded in agreement, ‘Suit’ you pinching at your lip as you spoke. 

“I think we all were with our husbands when we got here…wait, we all have different husbands?” You gasped, flapping your hands in excitement. “Is this like a multiple timeline thing? Like Doctor Who?”

“Oh my gooood, you’re so right, it’s a Doctor Who thing.”

“I totally forgot about Doctor Who!”

“I loved Doctor Who as a kid, was your favorite episode also—oh, uh guys?” ‘Silk’ you pointed at the group of men, wincing at the various states of distress they were in. “I think they’re not processing this well. Yours fainted.”

‘Silk’ (Name) gestured to Shroud, still on the floor, as S.T.Y.X. (Name) cringed, carefully making your way to him. 

“Oh, Idia? Babe? You okay? Maybe I should get Ortho over…” 

Following ‘S.T.Y.X’ you’s move, the other (Name)s each approached your respective…husbands. 

Malleus ignored them, moving farther into the classroom to search for his (Name), his beastie. He dropped Grim, who landed on his bottom out of surprise, making an ‘oomph’ sound. 

“Owie, hey Hornton, what was that for—”

“Where are they?” Malleus could hear the thunderstorms forming outside, but he didn’t care. “Where is my Child of Man?”

Silence fell over the crowd behind him, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the foreign feeling of anxiety in his chest as all he saw before him was remnants of you on the desk you’d been sharing. A pencil bag, a notebook, a chair fallen over. 

One of the other (Name)s must have approached him, their footsteps but background noise to the sounds of thunder.

“…Hornton—”

“Do NOT call me that! How DARE YOU!” green flames and smoke left his mouth as Malleus turned to rage at the person who dared to call him what his Child of Man called him. What his beastie named him. What his (Name)—

SMACK

The back of a palm met the skin of his cheek, stinging and burning in pain. He’d never…been slapped before. It shocked him. 

“Don’t you yell at me like that, Hornton.” The (Name) in Sunset Savana royal garb was resting their hands at their chest, rubbing the tender skin. “I may not be the same (Name) you know, but I am still your friend, even if from another timeline. And you will treat me with the same level of respect as you would your own (Name), understand?”

Malleus stared down at ‘Savana’ you with a blank look. You had the air of a ruler, the attire, the voice. His eyes told him it was you, but…you just looked…so uncanny. It was you, but his heart knew you weren’t his (Name).

The group behind ‘Savana’ (Name) all had different expressions of concern and fear, like they were waiting for him to strike you down. Except for Kingscholar, who had a disbelieving smirk, just barely noticeable. Your face softened, though, as you sighed.

 “…I’m sorry Horns, I don’t know what happened to the me that is from here. I don’t think any of us even know how or what brought us here.”

“It was a spell, mon Royal Trickster!” Hunt spoke up, eyes still on ‘Jewel’ (Name) who had taken to stand between him and Schoenheit. “Monsieur Fuzzball decided to practice a type of looking glass spell on Roi du Dragons’s Trickster! It was vraiment terrible! We had to evacuate, as the others happened to see.”

“He WHAT!” Malleus looked down at Grim, who yelped at his angry gaze and fled into ‘Suit’ (Name)’s arms, 

“I didn’t know! They wouldn’t let me practice the sigil and spell on the mirror, so they told me to do it on their hand! I didn’t know! I didn’t know! I didn’t knooooow—!”

Grim began crying into ‘Suit’ (Name)’s chest, babbling apologies and wails of regret.

“Looking glass…is that why the cracks formed on our skin?” ‘S.T.YX.’ you was now fanning Shroud with your hands. “But, the same started happening to our husbands, where are they?”

“I may have an answer for that!”

The group turned their attention to Crowley, finally arriving with the nurse in tow, who immediately fell down to attend to Shroud.

“Looking glass spells usually break the mirror and reform it back using a mirror dimension to reform, allowing the user to see into the future. Very complicated, very powerful spell. I’m surprised Young Grim was able to cast a variant of it.”

“Break?” Malleus hissed, interrupted by Grim.

“V-variant?”

 Crowley nodded, leaning down to study ‘Pearl’ (Name), who leaned back into Ashengrotto, the latter turning purple once again.

“Yes, if it was the normal spell, it wouldn’t have worked. Nothing would have happened! But something did, which leads me to believe that it was another one with another purpose…Young Grim, may I see what it was you were referencing?”

Grim nodded, pointing to the book at the desk you two had been at. Malleus immediately snatched the book and practically teleported in front of him and Crowley. The direbeast flinched and curled into ‘Suit’ (Name)’s arms, muttering. 

“…He says it was page 176.”

Crowley nodded, looking as Malleus flipped to the pages and taking the book from him. 

“Let me see….ah! I see the mistake. Grim, you silly thing, you did a different incantation! Our Prefect (Name) was shattered into the mirror dimension!”

“I KILLED THEM!? WAAAAAA—”

“Nononononono—” The headmage frantically waved his free hand, shushing Grim. “Poor choice of words. They must have had some items of personal importance to the student here and were replaced by their mirrors! It’s not unheard of, but it’s very rare for it to even be done. The good news is that all can be brought to normal!”

A wave of relief flushed Malleus, his shoulders sagging, not gone unnoticed by the other students. 

“But…”

“But? But what!”

Crowley remained unfazed by Malleus’s raising voice. “I am just ever so busy, and it requires many materials and a powerful mage to cast the spells needed to bring them back, and I just didn’t get many hours of sleep—”

“Then I will assist, problem solved.”

The headmage’s shoulders slumped as he muttered, “Wonderful.” under his breath. He straightened and gave the group of (Name)s a big smile. 

“In the meantime, you six can take residence in Ramshackle dorm as we fix—”

“Oh, I’d rather not. Can’t we go with our husbands? …Younger husband? …Younsbands?”

‘S.T.Y.X.’ you smiled, looking down at Shroud as he began waking, the nurse waving their wand under his nose. 

“Ugh…I was totally having a weird dream…:”

“Hi my Younsband!” ‘S.T.Y.X’ (Name) smiled at Shroud, which faded as he looked at them and promptly fainted again. “Oh, Idia…”

“That’s not a bad idea, with Hornton working on this, we won’t be here long.” ‘Silk’ (Name) smiled at Asim. “You think Jamil will be okay with me showing up?”

“Oh yeah! Probably, it’s all good (Name!)” Asim cheerfully responded, before frowning. “Should I call you (Name)? Do we call all of you (Name)? I feel like it’ll get confusing fast.”

The six of you hummed, sharing looks with each other. 

“Perhaps a nickname?” Ashengrottto suggested, looking anywhere but at his (Name). “Are there any you six would like to go by?”

‘Pearl’ you smiled, tucking Ashengrotto’s long strand of hair behind his ears, making him stiffen.

“You call me Angelfish often, I can go by Angel.”

“Ah! I’ll go by Tart!” ‘Tart’ turned to Riddle and smiled. “Your favorite!”

Schoenheit turned to his (Name) and smiled. “What would you like?”

“Jewel works.” Jewel smiled back, laughing as Hunt exclaimed.

“Merveilleux! A beautiful name for a beautiful person!”

Asim looked expectantly at ‘Silk’ (Name), tilting his head curiously. 

“Does Jamil call you anything back home?”

You paused, tapping a finger to your lip before smiling. 

“Call me, Habibi.”

Asim looked utterly delighted at the name, eyes shining. 

The others looked at the last two, mostly at the (Name) attending to a waking Shroud.

“Alright, alright. No more fainting…oh! Uh, call me Percie.”

The last (Name) looked down, embarrassed, as everyone looked at them expectantly.

“…Mousy.”

A snort left Kingscholar’s mouth, which he promptly closed before retorting after seeing the glare you gave him. His tail whipped against his legs. 

Crowley clapped his hands, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“Wonderful! Everyone, please make your guests comfortable! Young Draconia, if you will follow me, we will begin the new ritual spell. Come, come!”

Just like that, everyone began shuffling out of the room, the group of twelve separating from the headmage and Malleus as they went opposite directions. 

Malleus paused, turning back to look at the group. The different versions of you all looked so happy, being with the others. It made his heart feel heavy. 

“Poor Grim, Riddle dear, do you think Trey will be able to make him a treat? To make him feel better?”

“Azul, I forgot you had these glasses. I like them, you look so cute. Ah, it makes me wanna cry a bit!”

“Alright Idia, no more fainting please, you’ll get a concussion at this rate.”

“You know, Leona, it’s been a while since I've seen you with your hair down. You just look so much younger like this…”

“Oh, Vil, do you like the outfit? It’s one you picked out for me, you know?”

“Kalim, maybe text Jamil about the situation now? Just so we don’t stress him out…and no parties or feasts today, please?”

Ignoring the lump in his throat, Malleus turned back around and sped up to Crowley’s side. It didn’t matter what these other versions of you meant to them. He was going to get his (Name) back. 

His beastie…come back to him.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[eldritchmochi]

someone is reading coping skills for the first time ;v;

[mochiajclayne]

zosan and lawlu things that makes me so unwell about them (affectionate)

okay I see the usual "zoro resembles yonji" and I agree because they fundamentally share some traits if we throw yonji's cold and emotionless canon behavior straight in the trash but if you draw sanji without his beard + zoro's eyebrows and the imagery of blond zoro looking so freaking pretty is enough to make me scream and cry tbh

law without his beard and sideburns looks like a serious, sleep-deprived luffy

sanji keeping zoro's vivre card because honest to god the rest of the strawhats assigned him to search for the guy whenever he's lost

the collective response of "good luck (both affectionate and sympathy)" when the strawhats and heart pirates found out about lawlu dating

pick your fighter but it's between trafalgar "strawhat-ya I saved your life on a whim but can't wait to meet you again" law and roronoa "I came back from hell to kill you shitty cook but ignore the part that I had to deal with a grim reaper" zoro

law and sanji sharing a look every single time their respective east blue partners cause ruckus

luffy listening while law is calmly yapping and zoro smirking while sanji rants should be a thing explored in fics tbh

[starlost-mochi-x]

Hi hi! So I’ve like been seeing edits of this one Chan look

Just image your like yapping about how annoying it is and you say something that really gets him into “watch your tone” type mode and gives you this look!

Like agghh I was wondering if I could make this a request. You make it however you like but this is just so like ahhhh.

Love you babes!

-haeso🐨

omg the LOOK... fr send me edits of this chan bc i cant find them anywhere TT

make me - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you pull a prank on chan with minsung and seungmin

genre: crack, idol! au, kind of suggestive ngl but nothing risky lol

a/n: yall are gonna have to use your imaginations for this bc i aint writing anything 18+ it's too cringy for me TT dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Y/n, have you heard of that one TikTok prank?"

You look up to where Jisung is splayed over Jeongin's lap, his wide boba eyes blinking up at you from his odd position. Jeongin doesn't look particularly happy with the position and shoves his hyung off, muttering something about a dance practice, then leaves.

Jisung lands on the studio floor with an oof and takes up a new position on Minho's lap, seemingly unfazed. He blinks like nothing happened, the conversation apparently continuing.

You tilt your head at him. "What prank?"

Jisung grins as Minho wraps his arms around his tiny waist. "The one where you purposely piss off your partner by talking smack and then film their reaction."

You shake your head, laughing. "Nope. Seen others like that though."

Minho peeks out from behind Jisung. "You should try it on Chan-hyung. It'd be funny."

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. "He won't fall for that. He's already too used to Felix being chronically online. He'll know if I try to prank him with something I saw on Tiktok."

Jisung whines and shifts off Minho's lap, kneeing him in the process. He flops down next to you, ignoring Minho's groans of pain, and pulls out his phone to show you a video.

"So basically, all you have to do is rile him up and then we'll film him," Jisung grins.

You deadpan. "Then Seungmin will be begging me for blackmail material. He's annoying when he wants something."

"Fine," he groans. "We'll just spectate."

Minho, who has recovered from Jisung's unintended attack, looks up from the floor with a pained grin. "You're gonna do it then?"

You nod and Jisung whoops loudly.

✧

The whole thing turns out quite well, it happens, as there's a whole group dance practice at the end of the day. Most of the boys are sweaty and tired within the first few minutes, with the exception of Minho, with his main dancer core, and Hyunjin, who has had too much caffeine.

You watch from the sidelines, taking note of Chan's current mood and assessing whether it'd be wise to prank him; you don't want to catch him at a bad time, since he's usually stressed. But today, he seems a little more relaxed, dancing smoothly, with his voice soft and quiet, though still authoritative. The members seem more relaxed too because of it.

Jisung makes eye contact with you halfway through the dance, his arms up as he turns to the left. A devilish grin paints his face for a split second and you nod subtly. He slips up on purpose and Minho pretends to scold him, telling everything to take five.

Minho turns away and mouths something to you.

Now's your chance.

You casually walk over to where Chan is, touching his arm as he takes a swig of water from his water bottle. He smiles at you before kissing your cheek, and you almost feel bad for what you'd about to do. But you're curious too, about what his reaction will be like, so you keep on track.

Minho, Jisung, and Seungmin all walk up too. They must have told Seungmin about the prank, because he's clearly interested, though it's carefully hidden behind a straight face. Minho is the same, though Jisung is clearly struggling to keep a poker face.

"Hey, love," Chan smiles at you. "Anything you noticed during practice?"

You shake your head. "It all looks great at the moment, I think. Very energetic."

Chan raises an eyebrow. "Nothing at all? Usually there's at least one thing you say that we could all do better."

You whine a little, smiling. Trying to rile him up, make him huff a little. "Why is it my job and not yours, Channie? You're the leader, not me."

"Because," he says, matter-of-factly, "It's easier for you to notice where we're going wrong, because you're watching. It's harder to notice when you're dancing and moving. You can miss things."

You keep smiling and nod in response. He's not being rude, just telling you how it is. That's Chan for you.

Your mind is whirring, trying to think. He doesn't miss a beat, your Chan. It's difficult to piss him off or even argue with him. Of course, if you were one of the boys, it'd be easier. But Chan talks to you on a 300% softness setting, and apparently it's permanent.

"Well," you say slowly, pretending to think. "Maybe those last few moves, the turning ones? You could have done them better."

Chan tilts his head, seeking feedback. Even though you're not a dancer, he likes seeing it from your perspective. "How so?"

It takes all your effort not to burst out giggling. "Maybe you should copy Minho's dance moves more often. And actually listen to him."

Chan's eyebrow shoots up into his hairline. Minho simply looks at his leader, Seungmin doing the same. Jisung is clearly struggling to contain his laughter, and for a second you worry he might give the prank away. But it's Jisung, so no one bats an eye, least of all Chan.

His voice is a little lower, though still playful. "Are you suggesting I don't listen to him?"

You shrug nonchalantly. "I mean, if you had, you'd be as good as him. But you're not, soo..."

You can see the glint in Chan's eyes. Something swells in your chest, a tidal wave of mischief.

It's working.

"Yeah, hyung," Seungmin adds flatly, his face expressionless. "Listen to Y/n. Maybe if you'd taken her advice to begin with, you'd be main dancer. Must be a shame to be outdone by someone younger."

Jisung loses it then, the studio reverberating with his laughter, and even Minho cracks a tiny grin. Chan, however, is unamused.

Trust Seungmin to piss him off, you scoff internally. Probably why they brought him over here.

Chan says something in Korean then, which you can't understand, and Seungmin immediately leaves, walking away with a smirk. Jisung shuts up too. Must have been a threat.

He turns to you and you almost shrink under his gaze. It's dark and challenging.

"Continue, sweetheart," he drawls, leaning one muscled arm on the long cabinet against the wall.

Minho and Jisung are quiet.

"I-I wasn't saying anything wrong," you stutter suddenly, cheeks pooling with colour.

Chan tilts his head again, slightly raising one eyebrow.

You muster up all your confidence then, feigning nonchalance as best you can. "You'd be a better dancer if you spent more time practicing than shouting at everyone to get their shit together."

You see Minho and Jisung shoot wary glances at each other and you know immediately that you've crossed a line. An unspoken apology and several pleading phrases hang on the tip of your tongue, but your eyes flit to Chan's, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes are narrowed, head tilted, half a smile hanging off his lips. It's terrifying and hot and also scary at the same time. You try your best not to shrink under the intimidating look but it's like his gaze is a laser directed straight at your face.

You can't look away.

Chan steps closer and leans in slightly, his voice dangerously low. You can almost hear the smirk in his tone. "Take that back, sweetheart. Right now."

You fight against every survival instinct you have and keep your mouth pressed shut.

Chan asks one more time, his voice ever lower, and you spit out two words.

"Make me."

Chan's eyes flash with the challenge and he lets out a little, dark laugh. Minho, meanwhile, has a hand up against Jisung's face, most likely in preparation to quickly cover his younger member's eyes if something Chan making you take it back in front of everyone happens.

Chan doesn't even have to look at Minho and Jisung; he waves them off with two fingers, his gaze never leaving yours. You're stuck in position like prey being circled by a predator, waiting for the moment you'll be struck.

"What do you think he's saying to her?" Jisung whispers as he crosses the room with Minho.

He shrugs in response, a shit-eating grin on his face as he sits down, leaning against the floor-to-ceiling mirror. "Dunno. Probably something risqué."

"Minho," Jisung slaps his arm, a hushed laugh escaping his mouth. "You can't say stuff like that."

"What?" he protests. "Technically, it's all your fault because you put Y/n up to it."

"Aw, hyung," Jisung whines. "You agreed too. Should we confess and tell Chan-hyung it was a prank?"

"Nah. I mean, we could, but only if you admit it was your idea."

"That's the highest form of betrayal-"

"CHAN-HYUNG!" Minho suddenly shouts to him from their position on the opposite side of the room. Every head in the room turns towards them, including yours. "IT WAS ALL JISUNG'S IDEA-"

Jisung claps a hand over his friend's mouth, frantically attempting to muffle him. "Minho, shut up! You traitor!"

You take the opportunity to escape, ducking behind Seungmin. He's the only member not afraid of his leader, and both of you watch as Chan apparently forgets about you, instead stalking towards Minho, who is sitting eloquently unfazed against the mirror, and Jisung, who is frantically spewing apologies and pleading phrases, clutching to his friend's arm, eyes wide.

Seungmin lets out a laugh as you watch, poking you hard in the side. He raises his eyebrows suggestively. "Might as well escape before Chan remembers he has to make you take it back."

"CHANNIE!" You shout. "IT WAS SEUNGMIN'S IDEA-"

"Shut it!"

a/n: i know exactly what was going through yalls minds 📸

[mochindayo]

Oh, So much cat fur || L/A/DS Z/ayne x MC

I made an ao3 a bit ago. I've been a lurker on there since...idk...years, but. I'm going to uhh...i think post fics there too haha. may or may not see some crossposting. i'm being wild and it's also going to have regular fics (haha, that is if i decide i'm writing in the first place xD) there's one snz fic and one vanilla fic right now lol. Am i nervous? sure, but like- also i've lost it, idk. here we are. anyways. I'm so into LADS rn. here we are. i want to write more, but i always say that, write one thing, and disappear for another 5 months. maybe i'll change, who knows. I’m taking advantage of my motivation while I’ve got it rn

the portal, to...a fic in my ao3 lol. but i'll also put the fic here under the cut...because..why not?

Zayne, sneezing, because little kitty Zayne is choking on his own fur!!?? HUH!? OK SIR!?

======================

Zayne was always a neat and orderly person. It irked him that he was the cause of the copious amount of cat hair that was beginning to collect–on him and his furniture. 

Ever since the bizarre event that had left him with cat ears and a long, fluffy tail, he had been doing his best to maintain his cleanliness. This was lasting longer than he had wistfully hoped. 

He was shedding everywhere. 

The elegant strands of his midnight fur that adorned his cat features had begun piling up, turning his couch and sheets a grayish hue. He practically ate cat hair with every meal now. If anyone had a pet that shed, they would understand. 

Zayne had decided in order to lessen the amount of shed fur, he would brush his ears and tail three times a day. It was just about time to start his midday grooming session. He figured there should be enough time before you came over for lunch. 

Oftentimes, if you spent the evening with him–whether it was in his office or in his apartment–he would let you brush him. It was soothing. He would just melt into your touch. 

He got to work, grabbing his brush and finding a comfy space on the wood floors. 

How long has it been since he’s vacuumed? He admitted to himself, he had begun to slack on the cleaning. It had gotten exhausting keeping up with the amounts of sweeping he had to do everyday and becoming a cat has made him more prone to naps these days. Therefore, his floors were gaining quite the collection of cat fur. 

Zayne sighed slightly as he settled onto the floor in a cross legged position. However, no matter how gentle he sat down, it  hadn’t stopped him from stirring up the stray strands of fur into the air. He started on his 

With the precise motions of a surgeon, he ran the brush over his ears first. An attempt to ensure that each motion was controlled as to not let too much cat fur fly. The feeling was pleasant, he almost purred. 

Strands of his soft black fur detached from the brush, regardless of his attempts, drifting lazily through the air. 

He watched them float.

A small sigh left his lips. No matter how careful he was, the fur would go wherever it felt. The sun’s rays illuminated the fur flying through the air, accentuating how they floated gently before landing on his clothes, his floor–his face.

He gave a frustrated exhale from his nose, blowing the cat furs away from his nostrils. Then, he moved on to brushing his tail. He wasn’t a big fan of brushing his tail. It was a human scaled version of a maine coone’s tail, those of which were already long and fluffy. He swiftly moved the brush through his tail. Unlike his ears, this took more effort and these strands were more prone to flying wherever they felt like. 

More and more fur lifted into the air, curling in invisible trails around him. It was like a mini cloud of cat fur always hung around him. 

That’s when he felt it. 

A faint, miniscule tickle on the tip of his nose. It was hardly worth acknowledging at first. Just a light sensation that teased the edges of his sinuses. His nostrils gave a tiny twitch, and then nothing.

Zayne continued brushing, doing his best not to acknowledge any sensations on his face. This of course, scattered more fur into the air around him. Not that it could be helped. Still, he refused to give into the growing irritation, or acknowledge the way his breath had begun to catch. He was still in control. He could do this. 

He finally made it to the ends of his tail. The fullest, most luxurious part. It was beautiful, yet he cursed it. Although, you personally loved when he let you run your hands through it. He gave a few generous strokes, running the bristles through the fur with precision. 

More and more fur detached, swirled through the air, landing everywhere. 

His breath hitched. The tickle was beginning to settle in the back of his nose as he continued. He gave a particularly harsh tug on his next stroke as a knot had nestled itself deep in his fur. Big mistake on his end. A small plume of fur flew up into the air, curling directly into his face. He could feel each ticklish strand land on, around, and in his nose. The teased and tickled as he shakily inhaled. 

“No, no, n-nhh…I d-don’t– don’t need to snihHh–sneeze–” 

His nostrils flared, protesting the cat fur that tickled his nose. His breath hitched and stuttered, chest heaving. Fighting a losing battle, he finally raised his hand up to his nose. He wasn’t allergic to cat hairs, but his nose was quite sensitive to the touch. 

At last, his breath caught.

“Hhh–hh’Tscht!” He pinched the first sneeze off behind his fingers. It was refined and quiet, yet it did not relieve him from the tickle that plagued his nose. Before he had time to think, his nose protested once again, and suddenly once became six times.

“Heh-’Tcht! –eH’Tcht! N–tchtt! ‘Tch! ‘Tch! ‘tchhh!” Zayne wasn’t going to stop anytime soon if he didn’t release his nose to expel the cat fur, but habits kept him from doing so. “ahH–...s-so tickly..s-stuhHh’tcht!! ehH’Tcht! S-stupid cat f-fur’TCHT! ehH–’Tcht!” 

Each sneeze–albeit quite–harshly jerked his body and shook more cat fur into the air.

“Sh-hiH-iHt’Tgxt’ch! ah–Tchtt! hihH–heh’Tchht!” 

His body repeatedly betrayed him as his nose gave in to the itch–even as he fought to suppress them. Somewhere in the midst, he heard his door unlock. ‘Oh no, they’re here already. How long hahH– has it b-been?’ With all the commotion from his nose he had forgotten you were coming over. 

Soon, he heard the sound of your feet headed in his direction.

“Zayne? Are you… wh-what happened to you?” You tried to cover up your amusement by coughing to hide your laughter. Zayne tried his best to glare at you through his bleary eyes.

“T-too muhh’Tchh! hehH’TChh! Toomuchcatfur ahH–’TChh!!!” He stuttered out through the sneezes. “Hehh…I-I can’t s-stohH–p…”.

“Do you maybe think, you should, perhaps, take your hand off your nose? Stop stifling mayhaps? Or would you rather forever trap those tickly–”

“hehH–eH’DTZsh’iiihh!!” Even the mere word tickly made his nose burst. At least he finally let himself release the sneezes freely, “ahEhH’DZSH–iihhh!! eHEH’DSZHIew! heh’DZSH–IIHH–…hhh..”.

You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment, “Kitty Zayne choking on his own fur?”

His ears flattened as he sniffled the mess back, rosy cheeks gave away his embarrassment. You gave him a cheeky smile as you pulled some tissues out of your back pocket. You held them out, nudging them towards his face as he still glared (lovingly) at you.

“This is n-not amuHh…amusing…hh…hH’iHhh–’Tschhh!” He sneezed again and hastily grabbed for the tissues. He blew his nose harshly in an attempt to evict any stray cat fur left in his nose. 

“Well, I found it quite amusing,” You giggled as you plopped down on the floor right in front of him, “though you had me worried for a moment there when you wouldn’t open your door or respond to your phone.”

He looked back at you above the tissues as he examined the expression on your face. A look of both amusement and relief. 

“I did…not mean to worry you. Apologies, my dear,” He sighed, his lips twitched into a small smile. 

“It’s no worries! The scene I walked into made up for it. Imagine, me walking in, worried, just to find you sitting on the floor, sneezing your head off, surrounded by a cloud of your own fur–”

“OhH–no wh–y–heH’TSCHHH! eH’Tschh! eH’Tch! ‘tch–’tch–’tch…heh…haHh–e’Tschhhh! Why did you have to mention it again?” He once again blew his nose into the tissues. Though they were quite wet by now. You threw your head back, cackling.

“I’m sorry, Zayne!! I didn’t realize you were so suggestible!” Regardless of his embarrassment, your laughter was still music to his ears. 

“Mhm…what will I ever do with you, hm?” He let out an amused sigh. 

“Why don’t we settle onto the couch instead of going out today? Now seems like a perfect time for an afternoon nap, yeah?” You beamed as you reached to scratch his ears. Miraculously, your hand made it to his ears before he could stop you. He let out a small pur, which in turn caused his cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

“S-sounds good to me,” he finally replied after he let you scritch behind his ears. You knew he enjoyed that spot. You hummed happily and helped him up from the floor. Zayne followed without protest, unable to stop the small purrs that escaped his throat.

Moments later, the two of you were nestled together on his plush sofa. Zayne’s breaths were slow and steady, though a faint sniffle escaped him now and then. The sneezing had finally eased, leaving his little cat-self drowsy. His tail curled lazily over your legs and with each soft exhale, his ears would give a tiny flick. He was the first to doze off, with you not too far behind.