#mostly people can do what they want i guess as long as i never have to eat it..

[butchviking]

What food combination do you want to ban?

ok well the radblr cereal conversation rn has made me realise that ppl do ungodly things id never even heard of to food and i think something should be done about those people. (coffee? like hot coffee??? in cereal??? ive never wished hurt upon a beloved mutual before but i think i do now. i think i do.)

but aside from that im a pineapple hater til i die and we all talk a lot of shit abt pineapple on pizza but i think we need to address pineapple on burgers. what the fuck was anyone thinking.

ALSO that thing takeaway places give you sometimes when you ask for garlic and they give you that minty garlic shit. mint and garlic are you people crazy. ive never in my life asked for garlic sauce and wanted something minty. it should be a crime.

[medicinemane]

The problem with a lot of body horror for me is it's just gross without being compelling

Like yeah you had that person tear their leg open and pull muscle away from bone in a way that's very uncomfortable... but I don't care. Or a lot of Hostel style horror for me it's just kinda... yeah... grossing me out isn't some kinda win

Cause it's not that I don't like body horror, I love Dead Space for instance which... kinda the core pillar of that is body horror if we're honest

Could be a matter of that that kind of body horror is more fantastic making it easier to digest, I will advance that as a theory, but personally I kinda think that it's more that they do something actually interesting with it

Like if I wanted to I could probably see a really fucked up leg wound (and worse) in looking online about this shitty world

Can't really find dead bodies contorted into killing machines though

So I kinda feel like it's my problem with a lot of horror, of that it's horrible in a mundane way where as I'm looking for some unfathomable secret out of horror

So there's a difference between some stabbing a person in the eye cause they're just a shitty person, and doing it to try and create a replica of an alien artifact that gives unlimited energy but also drives people crazy and then turns their bodies into horrible monstrosities

One is just way more interesting to me

[autisticlee]

I don't understand why so many religious weirdos claim dinosaurs never existed and the bones/fossils dug out of the ground were buried under rock by scientists and then dug back out. it makes no sense at all. does their religion book tell them they were fake? is that what it is? because they seem to love letting some old mistranslated book dictate their entire life, thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. they even make up stuff the book supposedly says to excuse their behavior and justify horrible things, which makes them hypocrites for not actually following their book they claim tells them exactly how to live their lives that they must follow exactly or they will go to hell. but they sure like to pick and choose what they follow and make up new rules. but anyway, why do they hate dinosaurs lmao

[k3n-dyll]

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[zevrra]

I can have Arcane characters with a reader who seems cute and innocent, but is actually a pervert with her love, always teasing them, you know, kissing them in public and or touching them without people seeing, until they want more... then the reader stops out of nowhere and pretends nothing happened, something like that... how would they react to the reader's sexy provocations? How crazy do they get?

includes: teasing jayce at a council party and leaving him wanting more. (slightly nsfw, mostly suggestive!)

ft. jayce talis x gn!reader

extra: thank you so much for the request anon!! i hope this is what you had in mind and that you enjoy it!! <3

it was never fair how good jayce talis looked on a regular day but when he showed up for a council party, looking better than he usually did; well it turned every head in the room. still wasn’t fair anyone else got to look at him— not when you were the one at his side. even so, you kept a timid smile one your face, mingling with the crowd as you went until you couldn’t take it anymore.

off in some little corner of this giant building, you pushed jayce into the shadows, pouting up at him. “everyone is staring at you.” you grumble, sliding your hands down his broad chest, pushing him against the wall.

jayce softly gasps at your sudden roughness but cracks a small smirk when his back hits the wall. “what? are you jealous?” he whispers, face hidden in the shadows of the corner. you glare up at him, not even bothering to answer— he already knew it was the truth. “it’s really cute.” he adds, caressing the side of your face.

oh? so he wanted cute? you could definitely give him cute.

you yank him down to your height by his tie, kissing him deeply. his hands immediately wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you in closer to him as he more than merrily kisses you back. you hum happily into his mouth as he holds you gently; while you had anything but gentle on your mind. you bite down on his bottom lip, eating up his gasp and his follow up groan. you move your hands down his chest once more, slow and firm, before your fingers hit his belt.

“right here?” jayce grunts as he breaks the kiss. looking down at your fingers, watching as you tug at the metal around his waist.

“why not?” you mutter and he returns to chasing your lips for another heated kiss. it was entirely unexpected of you to act like this and you knew it turned jayce on. with nimble fingers you drag out undoing his belt for as long as you, bringing the tension between you two to a rough boil as jayce grows ever impatient. you smile as you slip your hand down the front of his pants, fingers groping his hardening cöck through his underwear. you grab a nice handful, eating up jayce’s sweet moan he lets slip into your mouth, before you pull entirely away from him.

“hmm, so cute,” you hum as you look at jayce. who in turn looks dazed and a little shocked at the lack of your touch. “but we have a party to return to.” you add, licking your lips with a twisted smirk.

jayce, now fully coming out of his confused state, stares at you with his jaw basically on the floor. he stumbles as he quickly tries to put his belt back together but keeps messing it up in his hurry. “that’s not fair!” he whines under his breath as he finally puts his belt back together. but his hard on is far more apparent now with his tightened pants.

he definitely couldn’t go back to the party like that. which is exactly what you hoped for. you shrug, beginning to move back towards the party. “guess you’ll just have to find me later.” you respond before disappearing back to the party, leaving him to his own devices.

you knew when ‘later’ came around you’d be pounded into his mattress, crying his name as he reminds you that you’re his but that would be later. for now, you get to enjoy the thought of jayce wandering the council party with a slightly uncomfortable hard on and with you constantly being in the back of his mind. and that made being stuck here, watching other’s talk to your handsome lover, so worth it.

[callahanisms]

all you need is more radaway

save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)

anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(

perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol

character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul

it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.

and building up endurance, of course.

you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.

to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.

thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.

"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"

you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.

"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.

"now i don't know if you should do that."

"and why not?"

a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.

but you weren't afraid.

"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."

"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.

"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."

"if you believe so."

your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.

of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.

in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?

"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"

more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.

"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"

"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.

"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."

"we'll see about that."

your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.

surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.

and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.

unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.

"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.

"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.

you chuckle a little.

"something funny?" the ghoul asks.

"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."

"very funny."

"let me guess. your answer is no?"

"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."

"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."

you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."

"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.

"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.

the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.

as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.

the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.

"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"

"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."

the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.

it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.

and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.

undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.

"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."

"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."

"from watching my movies?"

"yes!"

"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.

"that also makes you over 200 years old."

"that it does. something wrong with that?"

"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."

"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.

"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."

"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."

"i have a name, you know."

"what is it?"

"(y/n)."

getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.

"guess we're even now."

the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."

cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"

"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.

"i think you might die."

"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.

"i can also swim, you know."

"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."

you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.

you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.

"fuck!"

he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.

suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.

there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.

"something happen down there?"

"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."

while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?

"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."

"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.

"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."

"i don't."

"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.

dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.

cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.

though how does this work exactly?

"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.

cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.

it's so cute when he smirks.

you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.

"i absolutely can."

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Think it must've been a few triggers in combination but while the hangover's mostly passed I can't stop thinking about it

Kind of a trauma dump in tags cause I can't stop remembering even though it was months ago n just internal anyway. The body was always fine. That's the one line he still hasn't crossed though I know now he might if I break the rule again.

[beardysuits]

Piece of Jake

Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.

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

I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.

See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.

See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me. 

So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with. 

I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however. 

See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it. 

In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit. 

He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake. 

I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts. 

He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings. 

“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk. 

“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting. 

“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door. 

There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy? 

My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more. 

I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?

I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it. 

I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice. 

I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion. 

Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves. 

I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath. 

It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone. 

Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed. 

I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth. 

Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm. 

I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast. 

“Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake. 

“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.

There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror. 

I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room. 

“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch. 

“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch. 

I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous. 

Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower. 

“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed. 

I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine. 

I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?

[satorusugurugurl]

The Full Moon

Summary: You finally convince your werewolf fiancé to let you see his true form. One that he normally keeps hidden away from you due to the fact, he is so unbearably horny in his true form.

Pairing: Werewolf!Gojo Satoru X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Primal play, ABO, werewolf, knotting, dirty, talk, oral, (female receiving) loud smex,, sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Kinktober day nine! Werewolf! I not too familiar with monster smex so think of him as like a wolf man hybrid! I hope you guys enjoy! I've had a really shitty week so this might be my best work! But I put my whole heart into it! 💚💚💚

“We shouldn't be doing this.” Satoru sighed as he watched you eagerly peek out the window. “I usually go home during the full moon.”

Annoyance crept up your spine like a autumn chill. “Toru, we've been over this.” you showed him your left hand, the engagement ring on you ring finger glitter. “I'm going to be your wife soon. I don't want you running off locking yourself in a pent house during a full moon. I'm going to be your wife. I’ll be there to help you.”

“Ughh!” He flopped dramatically back against the bed. “I hate that you have to see me like this.”

“Gojo Satoru.” you stood across the room, crawling on the bed with him. “I love you, every part of you.” Cerulean eyes narrowed as a silent warning. “Even the furry parts.”

“Oh my god, I don't turn into a giant wolf like the movies. I just grow some claws—and sharp teeth—and I get a little—and I mean a LITTLE hairy.”

You giggled, grinning softly as he wrapped his arms around you, yanking you onto his chest. He exhaled deeply through his nose the air moving your hair. His grip was tight, allowing you to feel the anxiety creeping through his body. You knew he was nervous, but deep down inside of the deepest parts if you, you knew it would be okay.

Satoru was a werewolf. Something you hadn't entirely believed at first. But when you saw his steel door barricaded apartment, you knew he was telling the truth. But he wasn't the type to go out killing people every fool moon, he mostly got—horny, maybe went after a few cats, but he never hurt anyone.

Which brings you to tonight. By some great other world, sleep power you were able to talk him into steam with you tonight. That way you could see all that happens when he transforms and everything else. You needed to know these things. It totally wasn’t to see how feral he became when he was under the influence of the moonlight.

“Satoru I love you no matter what. Hairy or not.” He smiled oh so lovingly at you as you stood up walking towards the window. “So would it be okay if I open the window?”

There was a hesitation in his eyes, but with a deep breath, he slowly nodded his head. “Yeah it’s fine, But if this gets too intense for you to handle, you need to tell me. It might take me a while to snap out of it, but I promise you I’m going to protect you.”

“I know, I just want you to know I love you no matter what.”

Without another word, you open the blackout curtains, allowing the moon to spill in through the window to flood the room. Nothing Really special happened at first. Satoru Just stared at the moonlight outside not saying much..but After a minute or two you could see his body trembling. You hadn’t been anticipating it to happen so fast. And seeing it in person was a bit of a shock.

His entire body shook his fingers dug into the sheets underneath him. “Toru?” You hesitantly, asked to stepping closer. “Are you okay? Do you need to stop? I can close the blinds and we can enjoy a nice quiet evening.” When he didn’t say anything, just curling himself in weird towards his body, as if he was in an immense amount of pain eared back out the window.. “Fuck maybe this is a bad idea. I guess you might be in for a long night Toru.”

The guilt didn’t even have a chance to fester within your stomach as you heard a growl from behind you. it was deep, dark and full of need. And That sound alone had you squirming.

“Oh sweetheart,” your shifted your weight from one leg to the other as a shiver ran down your spine at the voice came beside you, ‘You’re in for a long night.” Turning your head, you came face to face with Gojo as you stared into his glowing blue eyes.

“Toru,” you gasped out, reaching for him, “are you okay—” Before your hand could touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pinning you against the wall. The sudden action had you hissing through gritted teeth as you stared up at your werewolf boyfriend.

“You know what.” he licked his bottom lip, revealing sharp canines as thick hair covered his chest as he transformed into a werewolf. He learned in gently taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently, “You smell even better.” he tightened his grip on your wrists, careful not to hurt you as his sharp claws dug into your skin. “I can smell everything about you, and do you know what that means.” He leaned in closer to you, his face inches away from yours, “I can smell your arousal.”

Shivering, you whined, rolling your hips against nothing as you felt that same arousal coating your panties. “Mhmm fuck, you look so fucking sexy.” Your boyfriend tilted his head as a pure animalistic growl rose in his chest.

“Is this why you wanted me to stay?” Using his free hand, Gojo grabbed both sides of your face forcing you to look directly into his slitted pupils, “You wanted to fuck me when I’m like—.” Another growl sounded, sending heat to pool between your thighs, “A lunar-driven werewolf.”

You didn’t fight him because he had hit the nail in the head with the hammer. You did want to see him in his proper form because you were getting married. But there was also a different reason, a more selfish reason, why you wanted him to stay. You were so desperate to see him like this. Thinking about him and his apartment, horny and hopeless, had been your muse for your masturbation sessions for months.

“There’s no denying it, Sweetheart, I can smell your arousal.”

You scoffed, trying to play it off cool, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He laughed cocking an eyebrow up at your very blatant lie.

“You are such a liar.”

“N-No, I’m not!”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, shaking his head back and forth, “Please, you’re just gonna stand there looking up at me and not beg me to fuck you right here against the wall like a whole animal.” His teeth grazed over your neck. The sharpness of his fangs suddenly made you realize he was a predator.

“I guess I can’t deny that,” you whispered, watching his knee inch closer to your spread legs. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it!”

“Thought about it?” He bowed, laughing, “Oh, Sweetheart, I’m going to need you to elaborate on that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he narrowed his gaze, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your face.

“You think I’m lying to you?” He leaned in closer, “I can smell that so sweet slick that’s coating your panties,” he pushed your legs further apart, allowing him to slide his knee between them, “You need me just as bad as I need you. I need to be inside you to breed you, make you mine, in every way I can. I need to mark you up. Make sure no other pathetic male in this city looks at you.”

“Fuck you’re so territorial!” you shoved at him. Still, all your efforts were useless against his sturdy frame, “ I want that! I want you to lose control. I want you to make me mine in every way you possibly can! Please, Toru! I nee—” he cut you off by slamming his lips against yours causing your eyes to shut with desire.

There was no hesitation in your movements as you melted into the kiss. Years of adoration and love were poured into that shared kiss. Then, there was something deeper, more profound in that kiss. It was a hunger you had never sensed within your fiancé before. It was strange and foreign, but you liked it. Feeling him loose and slowly losing control over himself had you snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. Gojo loved feeling you growing more submissive with every presence of his lips against yours. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip before he shoved his tongue in your mouth, not giving you much of a chance to allow him entry.

He tasted fucking fantastic, like strawberries and cream, and that taste alone went straight to your pussy. He must have sensed your growing arousal as he pressed his knee against your pajama-cladded core. Moaning softly into his mouth, you raked your hands through his soft white hair as your tongues battled against each other, twisting and exploring every single inch. You were so lost in the kiss that you found yourself grinding down on his thigh, desperate for more than just kissing. You wanted him to give him to the beast deep within his soul.

Gojo pulled away the saliva, connecting your lips before he smirked. “Mate,” his eyes wandered down to your hips, watching as you shamelessly rocked against him, “Whose the horny beast now? Look at you letting into your desires, letting go into carnal desire.” Your fiance reached up, grabbing a handful of your hair and “Giving in to her alpha.” A chittering, rumbling growl rose in the back of his throat as he pulled your head back by your hair, causing a mewl of pleasure to spill out of your mouth, “And I fully intend to give everything to you, my sweet little omega.”

He tugged at your hair again, allowing him access to your neck, “T-Toru,” you whispered as he kissed and sucked on your neck so hard you knew you were going to have marks littering your pretty skin. He traced his tongue over the marks he had left behind, causing goosebumps to rise under his touch, “f-fuck.” you gritted through your teeth, feeling your body going limp under his talented touch.

“Nuh-uh.” he teased, whispering against your collarbone, “Be a good girl and stand up.” All you could do was nod, letting him know you understood. He grabbed both sides of your hips, “Stand up straight for me.” you obeyed his commands, standing up straight for him, “Spread your legs.”

You spread them to him, allowing him access to you. He licked his lips, dropping to his knees, ripping your shorts down with his sweats. The entire time those glowing animalistic eyes of his focused on the pretty cunt between your legs. Long-clawed nails hooked on either side of your lace panties before he ripped them off.

“Oh fuck, that's my sweet omega.” He leaned down, resting his nose against your mound, “Now be still, I’m going to get you off first..”

He pressed his tongue against your folds, lapping at them quickly with no hesitations. You screamed in pleasure as your legs started shaking. Gojo gripped your hips, holding you up straight up and completely still. But even under his robust and sturdy touch, you felt weak. His tongue lapped at your folds before he took your labia into his mouth, sucking greedily at them.

Reaching down, you grabbed a handful of his longer tufts of white hair. Every lap, kiss, and suck caused you to buck against his mouth, eager for more. Gojo seemed as enthusiastic as you were, losing to the inner beat inside of him. He was desperate to taste all of you, to feel you cum against his tongue. From the speed and roughness, he wasn't going to let up until his mouth and chin were covered in your slick. This was one of the many reasons he avoided you during the full moon: he couldn’t keep his hands, fingers, and mouth off of you.

“T-Toru!” Mewls and whimpers filled the bedroom, accompanied by the snarls and grills of the werewolf who was eating you out, “Toru, I-I’m close,” he only growled in response, taking one of his hands off your ass, trailing it between your legs. He thrust two fingers inside of you, your walls instantly clamping down on them as you let out some form of a moan, “Oh fuck, holy fuck.”

Pulling away for a split second, Gojo smirked, his lips glistening with your juices, all while his glowing blue eyes bore into yours, “Oh, Sweetheart, this is anything from holy.” His mouth instantly found your clit sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves with his teeth.

“Ahh!!!” You shouted in ecstasy as he pumped his fingers deeper and faster inside of you. You tighten your grip on his hair as your orgasm begins building deep within your core, “I-I’m gonna cum, oh fuck Toru,” biting down on your bottom lip, your thighs began shaking and clamping down on his head, “Ah fuck, oh fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He increased the speed of his movements, pushing you, tumbling over the edge, “Satoru!!” You screamed as your body pulsated and trembled under his mouth and touch.

Gojo growled, like the werewolf he was, as he pumped his fingers faster, working you through your orgasm and drawing it out. It isn't until you think you'll pass out from the endorphins running through your system that Gojo finally stands. His eyes returned to his normal eyes for a split second before his lips curled back from his teeth as his sweats fell room around his rankles.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He questions, pulling his massive cock out of his black boxers, “Are you going to finally submit your Alpha. Give in to those fantasies that I’ve been plaguing your mind?” Your mouth was suddenly dry as you forgot to speak and breathe, “Answer me, baby girl.” You nodded in response, only to hand him reach up and tug on your hair, pulling you close to his face, “That's not an answer.” He began rubbing the head of his cock against your wetness, teasing you, “Tell me, do you want me to fuck you like you have always imagined that omega?”

“Yes!” You finally managed to gasp out as he reached his hand up to tug gently on your hair, sending electricity through every nerve of your body, “I want you to fuck me senseless!”

“What's the magic word?” He barely pushed against your opening, sending your hips rocking towards him.

“Please! Please fuck me, alpha!”

That was all he needed to hear as he slid his cock between your wet lips. Your pussy twitched and stretched around him as he filled you inch by inch with his massive cock as groaned against your neck, continuing to push inside of you until he was completely seated inside your wet throbbing cunt to the end.

“God, you feel so fucking good. You.” He lifted you by the thighs, “Your pussy feels so good swallowing my cock like that, clutching around it.” Gojo smirked up at you as you looked down at him, moaning loudly, “You like that Omega? You like feeling my knotted cock deep inside of you?”

“Y-Yes, alpha!”

“Good girl,” he smirked against your skin, continuing to pound into you; every thrust sent shock waves to all of your nerves, “You take my cock soo good,” he growled, biting down on your ear, “You’re my little cock slut aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

He continued thrusting in you, fucking you against the wall of your shared bedroom. Not caring if the neighbors heard or if he knocked down every picture and art you meticulously placed on the wall. All that mattered to him at this moment was knotting you and marking you up with his teeth, so no other werewolf came near you. You were his, and he was yours.

So he fucked you like no other man or beast had fucked you before. It was fast, hard, and fan-fucking-tastic. His massive knotted cock hit your sweet spot with every single thrust. And with each drag out, the head of his cock brushed against the spongy bundle of nerves. Every single brush pushed you closer to the second orgasm that had begun to build inside of you.

Your finger slammed against the wall behind you as you’re right hand dug into the muscles in his back while wrapping your legs around his waist, “Fuck me, Satoru, fuck me, please!” Gojo snapped his hips faster fucking you harder against the wall, all while his head buried in the crook of your neck, nipping ad sucking at your pulse, “Yes, just like that!”

“You like that, sweetheart,” as he increased his speed, rocking faster and harder, your back rubbed up and down the metal, “take it,” he bit down hard into your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, “You fucking love this, don’t you mate?”

You did love it; it was everything you had ever dreamed of, but it was ten times better! This was like every fantasy book you had ever read, and you were living your best dream!

“I do, God, I fucking love it!” you began rocking harder against Satoru feeling the coil in your lower stomach tighten, “I-I’m gonna cum Toru!” you cried out as he bit harder into your flesh.

“Yeah cum, cum all over my cock, Sweetheart,” was whimpering and whining like a dog in heat. One that had been so overcome by lust that he was losing himself in the pleasure, “Cum for me.”

The coil snapped, and you came for him hard. You let out a scream digging your heels into his ass while you dug your fingers into his back. Waves of pleasure washed every inch of your body as he continued fucking you, drawing your orgasm. With two more thrusts, he followed you right over the edge, his come spurting inside of you, coating your walls. You tighten your grip on him as he milks himself inside of you.

As the waves died, you were gasping for air, resting your head against his, “Oh my God, Toru. You’re never staying in that apartment alone ever again.” He chuffed, almost purring as he carried you towards the bed. You were most certain if he had a tail, he would be wagging it.

“Fine by me.” He growled as light from the shimmering moon outside highlighted the curves and muscles on his body as he forced your thighs apart. “Now, what do you say you let the big bad wolf in?”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

[starryeyedjanai]

bad boys do it better

rated: teen | @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: modern au tags: dating apps, innuendo, bad flirting read on ao3

✿

Eddie finally opens Tinder after downloading it in a fit of desperation.

He's tried everything but these stupid apps—bars and clubs and pottery classes and rock climbing—trying to find someone he can connect with.

But he's mostly found guys that string him along with whispered sweet nothings and half-promises they don't intend to follow through on.

So he makes his profile and then promptly fumbles and drops his phone because— no fucking way.

There's no way this is real life.

There's no fucking way the first guy to pop up is Steve fucking Harrington, his unfortunate and longest lasting crush in high school.

He picks up his phone and sees Steve's face staring back at him, unassuming, a bright, cheery smile on his face.

Steve, 28 2 miles away "Hope you like bad boys because I have it on dvd and vhs" Interests: baseball, basketball, live music, movies

He taps to get to the next photo and lets out a shaky breath—the shorts of what can only be his Halloween costume are so short, exposing hairy thighs that Eddie wants to sink his teeth into.

The next photo is a snapchat picture of him grinning wide, cradling what might be the world's ugliest dog, the text across the screen reading my nephew is so handsome 🤩🤩🤩.

The last is an obligatory shirtless mirror pic, not showing off washboard abs, but the soft, toned skin of his stomach.

He closes the app, sets his phone down, and breathes through his nose.

This can't be real, right? In what world would Steve be the first person in a sea of profiles in San Francisco of all places?

Eddie expected him to chase after Nancy Wheeler when she went to Boston, but he didn't stick around long enough in Hawkins to find out if they ever rekindled their will-they-won't-they relationship.

Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he found his match and just forgot to delete Tinder. Because there's just no way Eddie has this kind of luck.

He opens up Instagram and searches for Steve and finds him right away because they're probably still Facebook friends.

He scrolls through his profile and deflates a little, because all of the pictures on Tinder are from his Instagram. Which means it's probably much more likely that someone is catfishing using Steve's pictures.

Because the Steve from high school wasn't into men. And he's hot enough for someone to use his pictures to scam people or whatever.

He opens up Tinder again and his thumb is swiping right before he thinks about what he's doing.

It's a match!

Okay, now he knows it's a catfish. Or maybe it's a bot.

There's no world in which Steve Harrington would swipe right on him in the twenty minutes it's been since he created his account.

He types a message to "Steve" saying so are you a bot or just a catfish?

He doesn't get a response right away, so he clicks out of the messages, looking at profiles of what are hopefully actual people he can connect with.

His phone buzzes when the message from Steve comes in.

Hi3 Eddiems, cl!ck th3 linkin my proffile to . achat I am waitin9

He rolls his eyes and goes back to perusing profiles. It's not like he thought it was really Ste-

His phone pings with another message and he clicks back into the chat immediately.

That was a joke. There's not even a link in my profile

Eddie's heart beats a little faster, his fingers typing out a response.

So a catfish then?

Why do you think I'm a catfish?????

Because I know the guy in those pictures and there's no way hes into men. That guy was a jock extraordinaire in high school and very straight

You're awfully judgey for someone who was so anti-conformity in high school. Whos to say I haven't changed?

Or like, learned new things about myself?

Eddie's breath stutters in his throat.

Also you didn't really know me since we never talked.

Okay, I mean. It's pretty easy to guess that I was counterculture in high school by looking at me. So I'm still on the fence about the catfish thing

How about we meet up then? So you can see me in all my nearing-30 glory

And watch bad boys on dvd and vhs with you?

Dude, I am not inviting you to my house on the first date

That's a third date kind of thing

Oh yeah? Is it a back-to-back feature? We start with the vhs then move to dvd?

He can't believe he's entertaining this. A catfish wouldn't offer to meet up unless they thought Eddie wouldn't call their bluff. He kind of wants to see where this is going.

No see, we start with the dvd playing in the living room and then when we inevitably start being bad boys🥵 in the middle of the movie, we can pick it back up on vhs in my room later

To be clear, we stop the movie, right? I'm not sure bad boys has a soundtrack meant for the kind of activities we'd be doing

Oh for sure. I'd even put on my "let's get it on" playlist. As a treat.

Eddie can't help but grin. Even if this guy is a catfish, this is maybe the most fun he's had talking to someone in a long time.

Are you serious about meeting up?

Uh yeah, I can't have you thinking I'm a catfish forever

What's your favorite brewery?

Cellarmaker

Wanna do tomorrow afternoon at like 2 when it's not busy?

That sounds perfect

He isn't sure if it's really Steve or if he's going to be met with someone else or stood up, but at least he'll get to drown his sorrows if it doesn't work out.

Well—he's unsure until he gets the 'stharrington started following you' notification on Instagram a few minutes later.

He screams into his pillow so loud his neighbor thumps on the wall.

[unpretty]

If, hypothetically, someone was a 26 year old virgin who’s never been kissed at what point should they tell a new partner that if they wanted to avoid looking incredibly lame but also wanted to explain why they’re incredibly awkward

you shouldn't ask me for advice because i'll based it on my own life experience and say "that's none of their business" which is probably not what you're looking for

you don't have to, like. warn people that you might be bad at it because of inexperience. you can just let them think you're bad at it normally. i have done a lot of kissing and sex and i still don't feel like i know what i'm doing. you can have good and bad sex at every experience level. you can be a guy in a long term committed relationship who thinks listening to cbat during sex is a good idea.

in high school i made out with some people who did a weird thing with their teeth that i KNEW they learned from fanfic, and then i got older and made out with grown-ass adults that i knew got laid who still did the teeth thing, so either it's a Real Move and that's why it's in fanfic or else no one ever asked them what the fuck they were doing. i'm not into it. ask before you get your teeth in there. every new partner is starting over from scratch anyway, you're going to have to ask for their likes and dislikes regardless. or just bite their whole fucking mouth with confidence and see how that goes.

if you want to let them know because you want it to be Special i guess that's a thing you can do, but mostly i think that would be putting a lot of pressure on both of you for no reason. you can let them know you like to take things slow and prefer for them to take the lead, but i don't see why you'd need anything more than that.

there's so many different ways to fuck, if it's penetration you feel awkward about you can always just say, "hey, i've had trouble in the past getting penetration to work for me so i'm going to need some help here." the trouble could be performance anxiety, could be weird anatomical incompatibilities, or it could be that you didn't have a partner. they don't need to know the details. if you've had many loving committed relationships where you've done nothing but frot, that's still sex and also no one's business. if they insist on details about your sexual history, they're the weird one and you're allowed to nope out.

[zours025]

Zombie apocalypse face au I've been thinking of...

Thoughts/details on the AU and an alt color vers of the first drawing (luring you into my evil cave) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Face as unrelated parties... All normal humans. Caname and fruk (separately) wandering the world after generic zombie outbreak. Theyre some of the last ones left so they rarely meet people and need to depend on the other party heavily. Blahblah its miserable everyone is sad and hurt and tired. Francis had to cut off Arthurs leg to prevent an infection. Arthur has to learn to lean on Francis for a lot of stuff and they learn to get over past grudges and such... 😇 Alfred is bitten at some point and hides it from Matthew. Matthew knows, but he's basically lost any will to live and is ready to die whenever Alfred turns because. Well. "I'm only living for him anyways..." type of sentiment... They ignore it and it's never brought up but it's like. I know you know that I know that- Anyways. So those two are trying their hardest to live out their last days in relative happiness. Doing fun stuff. Appreciating the simple things, landscapes, each other's company, etc... That is until they bump into Francis and Arthur in a totally horrible state. And it's like "Well... We can't just let them die can we? We have nothing to lose anyways." So they watch over the two and care for them and once they're all in okay health they decide to stick together and move on. But Arthur and Francis are clearly more determined to live than Mattie and Alfred and they're good fighters. So they wanna keep em around, all while hiding that Alfred is slowly dying and is eventually gonna kill them all. Milking Francis and Arthur's good will... Eventually new relationships form between the four and inevitably weird "betrayal!" and jealousy type feelings show up... Francis is tired of just sleeping with Arthur and when he gets mad he flirts with either of the twins... And the like... Well I haven't thought the whole thing through but these are the important emotional bases to the idea I guess...

I wrote a scenario for many different possibilities of first-to-dies (because i find them all interesting and bcuz twitter oomf asked and i have no restraint. lole)

Alfred dies first: Most obvious scenario (like hes already a bit zombified and clearly hes getting physically weaker) Im imagining a terrible scenario no matter what. Matthew probably finds him first all hunched over and stuff womdering whats wrong before realising that it's finally the end of the line. Francis/Arthur aren't far behind and they blow "Alfreds" head off without hesitation. Obviously causes a rift between the two and Matthew, who broke their trust by hiding this from them. Matthew is inconsolable for a few days, he thought he had more time. Despite the lie I think Francis and Arthur would end up feeling sympathy. They try to keep Matthew up on his feet but frankly I think this would end with him blowing his brains out eventually anyways... 😊

Alternatively Mattie has been mentally preparing himself for a very long time and he immediately kills "Alfred" and then himself in quick succession. Francis and Arthur are haunted by the memory of the two for the rest of their trip.

Arthur dies first: Similarly, I think its easy to imagine this. He's missing a leg and mostly needs to be near someone else to survive zombie attacks/ambushes. Would probably accidentally get separated from the group and get overrun... Might use himself as a distraction to allow the other three to get away in a particularly dire situation... In a way he thinks hes just dead weight anyways and he wants to see the other three live knowing that he doesn't have much left to offer them (Francis would disagree). Francis is obviously very upset and he loses sleep over the memory of Arthur, his last "real" link to his normal life before all of this. But I think Francis is stable enough to prioritise the twins he took under his wing. He knows they need someone to keep them together, so he toughs it out. Everything is fine till Alfred turns some many months later. By then, Francis developed a strong attachment to the two and doesn't have any regrets. Would probably struggle against Alfreds strength to allow Matthew to escape or something along those lines...

Francis dies first: I can also see him just getting killed by sheer numbers. I think he grew very fond of the twins pretty fast + had to be Arthurs protection for a long time and so he developed this feeling of "I need to keep them all safe at all costs". I don't think itd be as much of a letting go type thing as Arthur. It's more calculated and would only happen in a worst-case scenario. I think Arthur would be pretty irritable for the next few weeks, a lot of things remind him of Francis. It bothers him since he wants to just forget and move on, but he finds that his feelings are more difficult to control than he initially thought. Yells a lot at Matthew and Alfred and gets into petty fights. Its not pretty, but they have their moments... In the end, it's not like he wants to make them suffer. They're all he has left now. Hes trying his best. Has a lot of days where he just wishes he had been the one to die instead.

Matthew dies first: Honestly I'm imagining a non-zombie related death, like an accident with one of the guns or some unrelated illness or like. Falling onto a branch? Falling from high up in general? Setting off a trap? Lol idk. Something that allows Alfred to hold Matthew during his final moments or at least look into his eyes. I think hes also the most liable to flip out on everyone and just kill the four of them all together idk ❤ Crazy girl ❤ It shocks Alfred immensely. He expected to be the first one to die and he's really upset about the whole thing. Outwardly, he cracks jokes and tries to convince the other two that he's fine but he's very much not. Doesn't really know what tk do with himself. Just goes through the motions every day. Francis and Arthur notice the slight change in behaviour but don't really say anything and pretend everything is fine. Playing at being a normal family. Arthur and Francis try spending lots of time with Alfred but nothing really helps. Eventually Alfred turns without ever telling them he was infected and they all die the end. Alternatively he kills the other two and then himself on like a random Tuesday. ❤

Bonus: Everyone except Alfred dies lol. Alone in the desolate empty landscape. Welp!!! What now!!!

If you saw my first post of this text part no you didn't im editing this and putting it here with the drawing its more organised ❤ okay ❤

[venus-haze]

Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you. 

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.” 

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

[astrowarr]

“How d’you care so little?” Joel fumes, eyes ablaze as he paces around the shattered glass and splintered wood of his car. It's pretty well decimated, and he's been growling and frothing about it in Gem's ear for an hour now. 

She prods testily at the soft, upturned earth carefully covering their pitfall. “It's not that I don't care,” she huffs, jumping back when the dirt crumbles a little under the toe of her boot. She glances up at Joel, who is practically shaking with rage. He can't keep his eyes off the dumb car. “You know, you really could've fixed it by now.”

Beat of silence. Then, pouting and everything, he grumbles feebly, “Shut up, Gem.” 

There's no heat behind it. If anything, her words seemed to have knocked the wind from his sails of war; he's slumped against the car now, arms crossed as he glares to the side dramatically. God, he sure does put on a show, she thinks with an overwhelming wave of affection. 

It's not that Gem doesn't care. But she can't get this feeling from the four mangrove walls of her stupid barn. She can't even get it from winning. So they can burn down everything she owns, take every last life she has to spare. In the end, none of that is tangible. None of that is what matters. This is a game, and games are meant to be played. That’s what counts for her. Why should she take issue if the universe works as it was so lovingly intended to? 

All she wants to leave behind is a trail of blood and ruin as she puts up a fight. She wants to leave her mark on this world and all the people it holds. She wants to make it hurt, once she's allowed to. She wants to play the game well, exactly how she was made to play it. She cares about that. 

Gem cares, too, about the love she dredges up along the way. She thinks of her hands set to the backdrop of a blood-caked cloak, of long brown hair curling over her fingers as they dig in tight. She thinks of the sharp edge of her sword pressed against pale skin, and the thud of knees hitting the ground. All of that meant something. It still does, she believes, in certain ways. 

“I care,” she says, feeling oddly self-conscious. Maybe it's because she knows Joel now: he can't stop caring. It explodes from every pore in his body, an inescapable curse. It's been his undoing, or so she's heard; he's easy to anger, but if you ask her, he's mostly just… easy to love.

It’s this fact that has her saying quietly, “Just… I gotta pick and choose, you know?”

She's not like Joel. There's only so much room in Gem's chest, and it's permanently occupied with a bleeding, open wound. It takes up a lot of her as she skirts around it, giving its raw, frayed edges a wide berth. Joel has an infected hole in his heart too, but his preferred method of dealing with it is tearing it wider with his bare hands.

“Yeah,” Joel drawls absently, scratching his cheek. “Never been quite good at that, I reckon.”

Gem gets that. It must be hard, holding everything so tight that it rips you apart. The thought of losing that much agency has a venomous, stinging feeling crawling down the center of her back. But… 

“You're doing it right now,” she points out, gesturing vaguely at his poor car. “You could've gone on a rampage, if you wanted.”

He scoffs. “Trust me, I wanted."

“You didn't though.”

Joel blinks. “Guess I didn't.” The answer is simple, but leaden with something that has branches so complex, it nearly consumes his words entirely. Gem can't name the something; she lacks the history she'd need to do so. Even so, his face is remarkably… light? That's a word for it. Maybe he's finally cut the infection from his own wound.

She hums in lieu of response, turning her gaze back to the trap. Whatever is draped over Joel's mind, she hopes it doesn't render him too docile. The game stops for nothing, and it deserves to be played to its fullest, Gem thinks, no matter what's left standing come judgement day. 

[jellieland]

"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."

"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.

"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."

"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.

"And you killed me last session!"

"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.

"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.

"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"

"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.

"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"

"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"

"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.

"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.

There is a short silence.

"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.

"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"

"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.

"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."

A few moments pass.

"You may continue," she says.

"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"

"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.

"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."

"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."

"But—have you seen how they get?"

"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The people who don't die."

"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."

"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."

"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."

He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.

"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.

"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."

Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."

"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."

"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.

"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"

Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."

"Oh."

"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."

"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.

"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.

Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.

"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."

They stand there, silent, for some time.

"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."

"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.

"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.

"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"

"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"

"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."

"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"

They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.

It's nice, not to have to be there alone.

[xvysarene]

ℙ𝕦𝕫𝕫𝕝𝕖 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤

Pairing: LADS Men (All 5) x Fem!Reader Words: ~2.2k || 400-500 per LI Genre: Fluff, fluff, and fluff, Pre-relationship Summary: A chance encounter and an unexpected chemistry: two strangers finding a spark when they least expect it (AKA meet-cute with our favourite boys)

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

The soft “Oh!” and a light touch of fingers are enough to snap Xavier’s focus back. He’s been on a shift that stretches far from the usual working hours, what's with the metaflux disturbance near Linkon, a task that has left his body operating on autopilot.

All he craves now is a simple meal.

Lost in a fog of fatigue, he registers, just a second too late, another hand already reaching for the last pack of his favourite beef hotpot ramen.

“You look like you need it more than I do,” a soft voice murmurs next to him. Xavier turns slightly, catching your gentle smile as you gesture for him to take it.

He shakes his head, soft strands of hair falling into his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Guess I’m just too tired.”

“All the more reason you should have it,” you insist, as your gaze flickers to the Deepspace Hunter uniform he’s wearing. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for keeping Linkon safe.”

He shakes his head again, handing you the ramen. “I can survive without it for one night. Sorry for almost snatching it out of your hands.”

But you’re not backing down either. “I’m serious, take it.” Dodging his attempt to place the pack in your hands.

And before either of you realise it, a lighthearted back-and-forth of who deserves it more begins.

“You were fighting wanderers!”

“And you were here first!”

Laughter spills out through the aisles of the mostly empty 24-hour minimarket at this time of the night.

Until it’s interrupted by a soft cough.

The both of you turn to see one of the staff appearing between you, holding a whole box filled with… beef hotpot ramen.

“I have more than enough for both of you here.” The staff’s lips twitch, barely containing his laughter.

Exchanging sheepish looks, Xavier accepts the whole box with a soft thank you, before the staff leaves you both again.

When your eyes meet, you burst into laughter. “That’s so embarrassing.”

He chuckles. “I’m Xavier, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you uh… want to enjoy this together?” He cocks his head toward the small dining area, holding up the two packs of ramen he now has in his hands.

Offering him your name in return, you walk beside him before coming to a halt, remembering something. “Please tell me you also eat this with a boiled egg. It’s the only way to do it right.”

His eyes sparkled, making the Cerulean clearer than ever, as he watches you heading towards one of the aisles.

“Absolutely. It's a crime to eat it without one.”

You grin back, already scanning the shelves for the perfect eggs.

⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

You’ve been standing in front of the painting for a while now, long enough for him to wonder what’s keeping you there.

It’s the way you tilt your head slightly, combined with the soft furrow of your brow, that captures his attention.

Rafayel approaches, curious, until he’s close enough to ask, “What do you think of it?”

He expects you to turn toward him, maybe offer a polite response, but you don’t. Your eyes are fixed on the painting.

For a second, he wonders if you’ve heard him at all.

“I… have no idea,” you chuckle softly. It’s sincere, honest, and free of the usual pretense people have when they don’t ‘get’ art. “I can appreciate a nice piece, but I wouldn’t call myself knowledgeable.”

Your gaze then shifts to the window, watching the trees outside swaying in the gust of wind as the raindrops patter against the wide glass windows.

“I pass by Flux Art every day on my way to work but never came in until now. Seems like a good way to kill some time when it’s pouring outside.”

A beat of silence passes as your eyes trace back to the abstract shapes that don’t seem to offer any easy answers.

“Looking at it now, it almost seems like a battle between chaos and serenity. Just like how silent it is here while there is a storm outside.”

He nods, though you can’t see him doing so as your back remains turned. “There’s no right or wrong answer. Each person interprets art differently and that’s the beauty of it.”

You hum in agreement. “Well, what about you? What do you think of it?”

Then, you finally turn to him.

With a small smile, Rafayel watches closely as a flicker of recognition and realisation flashes when your eyes meet.

Your mouth opens, then closes, head tilting downward as you drop your gaze. “You’re the artist,” you murmur, cheeks flushing slightly.

“Rafayel.” He extends his hand, and he swears he feels a spark of static when your warm palm meets his as you share your name in return. “It’s always interesting to hear how others interpret my work.”

“Oh my God, I feel like I made a fool of myself.” You try to cover your flustered face when you draw your hand back.

“Hey, none of that,” he reassures. “Your honesty is more meaningful than any rehearsed compliment.”

There’s a softness in his gaze and a playful smile that puts you at ease.

“If you’re interested in knowing what I thought while painting that,” he continues, unconsciously leaning in a bit closer while nodding towards the abstract piece. “I’d be happy to share.”

Your eyes light up with genuine interest. “I’d love that. There’s no other place I’d rather be now.”

⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

“Come in,” he calls out.

As you step through the door of his office, Zayne’s eyebrows twitch in surprise. Normally, the faces of those who aren’t his direct patients blur together in his memory, but he instantly recognises you from the emergency room earlier that morning.

Why does he remember? He has no idea.

“How can I help you, Ms…?”

You introduce yourself quickly, before continuing, words coming out a little rushed, “I was the teacher who brought in one of my students earlier. You were incredible with him, and I just wanted to thank you personally. He also made this for you.”

A warm smile spreads across his lips as he looks at the crayon drawing of himself alongside the small boy and you, complete with a simple ‘thank you’ in a vibrant splash of colours.

“I’m glad I could help. It’s always a little more personal when it’s a child.”

You smile softly, and Zayne feels his heart skip a beat—startling even him. It's been a while since he's felt this kind of warmth, a stirring beneath the surface of what Greyson likes to joke as his cool cucumber front.

“I should also thank you. It’s not every day I meet a teacher so dedicated to their students, someone willing to go out of their way after hours just to hand me this.”

The soft light of late afternoon brings out the kindness in your eyes. There's something in the way you’re looking at him that leaves him momentarily stunned.

However, a sharp alarm from his phone breaks the delicate moment. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, taking a half-step back, and waving idly towards his desk. “I didn’t mean to take up your time. I’ll let you get back to your work.”

He silences the alarm with a quick swipe of his finger. “It’s just a reminder that my workday is over.”

There’s a brief pause, and his eyes meet yours again. Something about you just draws him in. 

“Taking a half day today,” Zayne explains. Then, with an unexpected boldness that defies his usual personality, he adds, “There’s a café not far from here that serves great coffee and sweets. Maybe you’d like to join me? I think we could both use a little reward after such a long day.”

For a moment, you’re silent, caught off guard by the sudden invitation.

“I mean,” he continues, a little more softly now so as not to spook you further, “if you don’t have any other plans, that is.”

It feels like the weight of the world is taken off his shoulders when he sees you nod, a shy smile and a hint of pink blooming on your cheeks.

“I’m not in a rush.”

⊱ 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤

Of all days, why does he have to run out of wine when Luke and Kieran aren’t around? He is particular about his wine, and the only winery he sources from can’t deliver to N109 Zone.

However, his hopes for a quick transaction vanish when the staff behind the counter checks the pick-up list, gives him a once-over, and the next thing Sylus knows, he’s ushered to a seating area.

Outside. Where the sun is shining too brightly for his liking.

“Mr. Qin?”

The scowl on his face falters as he looks up at the voice calling his name. You appear slightly out of breath, hair disarray as if you’d rushed over just to see him.

“Oh, how my grandparents would have loved to see you! Too bad they’re not here today.”

He watches a couple of staff members appear behind you, pouring him a glass of wine and setting down a charcuterie board filled with a selection of cheeses, cured meats, and mixed nuts.

It’s not too extravagant, but it surprises him, nonetheless.

“What’s all this?” He is utterly confused.

“It’s just something I usually prepare for Luke and Kieran when they pick up deliveries.”

Sylus blinks. Those two never mentioned anything. “You mean they ask for this every time they are here?”

Eyes widening at his assumption, you quickly shake your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “No, no! They never expect this or anything. I just like making them feel welcome since it’s a long trip from the N109 zone.”

“Thank you for this, I appreciate it," he says genuinely. “Don’t think I catch your name, though?”

A sheepish smile graces your lips as you share it with him. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. My grandparents own the vineyard, and they’ve mentioned you quite a bit—their favourite customer.”

Liking the way he repeats your name when he thanks you once again, his gaze lingers just a moment longer. 

Your cheeks are starting to flush under the intensity of his ruby eyes. “Well, I’ll leave you to it so you can enjoy them. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Qin—”

“Just Sylus, please.”

Flustered, you shift awkwardly. “I hope you’ll come to visit us again, Sylus.”

But before you can take a step away, he glances down at the spread before him, then back at you. “It’d be a shame to enjoy this all by myself. If you have the time, some company would be nice.”

He rises and pulls back the empty chair across from him, the invitation clear. “I could really use a change of scenery from the twins’ endless shenanigans.”

Maybe doing the pick-up isn’t a bad decision after all, Sylus thinks as he sees you chuckle, the sunlight catching in your hair.

⊱ ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕓

After spending too much time in the sky, Caleb always finds himself drawn to the library. The silence grounds him, and chatting with the librarian reminds him of the earlier days—when he was just another student at the nearby Aerospace Academy and working part-time as the library assistant.

He’s already planning to return the next day since he has some leave lined up when a loud sigh catches his attention.

Looking between the shelves, Caleb sees you balancing a stack of heavy volumes in your arms.

“Need a hand with that?”

You turn toward him and nearly drop the books, not expecting anyone else after seeing the last visitors trickled by earlier.

“Woah, easy there.” Without waiting for an answer, he steps closer, lifting half of the books from your arms, his fingers brushing yours ever so slightly.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he says with a crooked smile. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You murmur a small “Thanks,” grateful for the help and a bit flustered by his easy confidence.

In awe of how he is so at ease at placing the books on the correct shelves, you ask, “You’re Caleb, right?”

Which earns you a raised brow and surprise flickering across his features.

“I've heard your name around—fighter pilot and all.”

He chuckles. "Ah, so my reputation precedes me. Should I be worried?"

You shake your head quickly. “It’s a good reputation, don’t worry. The librarian tends to mention you a lot.”

As you shelve the final books together, his hand rests briefly on one of them.

“So”—he glances at your tag and call your name, breaking the comfortable silence—“you’re new here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

You hummed. “Just started last month. It has been great, except for all these books left behind.”

“Those academy students always do that. I might even be guilty of doing it too before,” he says with a sheepish grin.

When the librarian rounds the corner, their attentive eyes flicker between the two of you, and with a knowing smile, they gently usher you both to leave as it’s getting dark outside.

“Well, thanks again for the help,” you say, pulling your zipper up to fight the chilly evening air of Skyhaven. “I owe you one.”

Caleb fully faces you, and with the extra height from the steps, you can meet his gaze directly, sparkling under the sunset sky. “What do you say if I take you up on it now? Would you like to grab a drink or have dinner together? Think of it as a belated welcoming party from myself.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I’d like that.”

Let’s just say the warmth that spreads through you both has nothing to do with the jackets.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST