#oh! last drawing he takes off his usual long coat and he's only with his dark robe/tunica

[snz-thoughts]

Photic sneezes ?? more likely than you'd think! This snz prompt was on my mind and I had to draw it fr

"In the midst of external discussions, an individual finds themselves ensnared in the clutches of photic hypersensitivity to sunlight. The rapidity of sneezes and the insufferable tickle assail them, nostrils flaring uncontrollably as menacing tears escaped the corner of their eyelids, as rendering stifling attempts futile. Devoid of any discernible tissue, handkerchief, or adequate means to conceal these involuntary eruptions, the sole recourse lies, at a subsequent time, in the utilization of one's gloves".

[tomahachi12]

What's the story behind your drone-sona? Since she has the Cabin Fever tag, I was curious what's the story behind her.

BUCKLE UP, IT'S A LONG ONE (some of this is headcanon crap, so not all info would be show accurate)

Toma (012) was a just regular worker drone working within the offices of the JCJenson Mining Facility.

The area of the offices she worked in had drones split into small groups to complete larger projects. She was part of the group which included Nori (002), Yeva (048) and Alice (017) (I LOVE THEM LEAVE ME ALONE).

She was usually tasked with taking paperwork back and forth between her group to turn in or for them to work on, something she was.. pretty bad at.

Because of Nori's shenanigans, their group often got in trouble with the humans.

At some point, Drones began to be selected from a lottery pool to be transferred to the lower levels of the facility. At first, the Humans would play this off as a "promotion" of sorts in order to keep the drones from becoming suspicious of their intentions and keep their minds at ease.

As time went on, the humans dropped the façade and the drones began to fear these selections, given that the chosen drones were never seen or heard from again after being selected.

Eventually, Toma's ID was drawn as the next to go. (she was chosen first out of their group, next was Alice, then Yeva and Nori was the last)

Toma was taken down the Cabin Fever Labs to be used in the "Solver" experiments.

When she was infected with the Solver Program, it took her over instantly. She was quickly given an early version of the patch (1.5.8) before causing too much damage.

The effect of the Solver's code on her body left her lethargic and forgetful. Since she was patched early, she cannot use the solver, but still suffers from it's effects; occasional possession, the need to consume oil, ect..

Not being able to provide much information for their research, the humans mostly kept her bound in her locker. Sometimes they even forgot she was in there.

Before the core collapse, she was able to escape her chains and wondered around the mines for a minute before the eventual implosion.

She was blown out the facility and somehow managed to survive, not only the blast, but even the crash back down to the planet. Though it knocked her offline for a time, causing anyone that found her to think she was dead.

RIP Toma lol

After she eventually woke up, she stayed put for a few months, hiding out in the outer buildings of the facility until she was found by another worker drone.

This drone invited Toma to join his colony, Outpost 9. She agreed and followed him to the base (wow Toma, ever heard of stranger danger gdamn..)

Toma was welcomed in this colony and she lived there for several years, learning how to live a life free from human-control. She was even able to pick up an old hobby she was never allowed to do back at the offices, drawing.

The nightmares gave her plenty to draw anyway.

Eventually, it all went to shit when the Murder Drones showed up, popped that base open like a soda can, and killed everyone inside.

Toma's solver kept her hidden long enough her to escape unnoticed. She needed somewhere to go and began to make her way toward the city she saw in the distance.

( oh hi, Y )

It took a while but she made it to the City only to find, you guessed it, more Murder Drones. She somehow managed to dodge them as well and found her way to some very large doors that resembled the ones back at her old colony. She frantically banged on the doors, shouting for help as she Murder Drones closed in on her.

The doors suddenly cracked open and a hand reached out, grabbing hold of Toma's coat and pulled her inside before slamming shut again.

She was met by a group of drones all sitting around a table, seemingly playing cards. The drone that pulled her in helped her up to her feet. After checking if she was alright, he introduced himself as "Khan" the apparent leader of this colony. Outpost 3.

She was welcomed in` just as warmly as she was in her last colony, and settled in easily, but soon found this colony was quite.. different from her old one. There were.. "kids" running around, and "babies" and... "teenagers".. Some drones were even married.

She also found out that every adult drones had to contribute to their society as well, unless they were raising children. Everyone had a job, and Toma was expected to have one as well.

She decided to join the Worker Defense Force, mostly as "watchman". She was tasked with doing patrols around the colony, looking out for any potential problems or weak points that could cause a breach.

She was pretty bad at it since she kept falling asleep while on patrol or forgetting where she was suppose to be.

The others were very forgiving toward her, though, but they figured she needed a different job.

After taking note of her interest in art, she was given the job as the new Art Teacher for the school.

Now if only she could stop falling asleep in class..

TL;DR/I only looked at the pretty pictures:

Toma was part of the Solver Experiments and now lives at Outpost 3 as the resident dumbass Art Teacher.

[thefandomsfervent]

JayVikMel x Reader Four Glasses and a Bottle

minors DNI.

Summary: You aren’t sure how you got here. There had been talks before. Talks. That was all. Talks and imaginings. Ideas that were hidden in drunken conversations. Jokes that lingered in the air too long. Now you’re here, in Jayce’s apartment.

AKA - A fic where Viktor and reader are dating, Jayce and Mel are dating, and everyone likes each other. A lot.

Word Count: +3.4k

There is no plot. Reader is AFAB with female pronouns.

Tags: Slight Overstimulation, Polyamory, Cunnilingus, Plot What Plot, Gratuitous

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

Dinner was going well at least, but the energy in the room was tense. Dessert forgotten on the table. A bottle of wine had been uncorked hours ago, sitting in a bucket of ice. You were nursing your glass slowly, it was lukewarm now. Mel had two already. Viktor and Jayce? You weren’t sure how many the two had drank. Not because they had too many to count, but because Mel kept her eyes on you all night. Golden freckles glinting in the low light of the living room.  She was enchanting. Viktor hadn’t really spoken much that night, his hand on the small of your back whenever you were together. Jayce and Mel had kept the conversation flowing for most part, you chiming in on occasion. Viktor offered small hums in acknowledgement, only ever speaking if he disagreed with a statement.

All four of you knew why you were here. You have a feeling that the councilor is enjoying drawing it out. Watching as you swirl your wine for the umpteenth time in this last hour. Watching when you bring it to your lips. The blush that had been creeping up your neck since dessert was definitely to your ears. You could feel the cool breeze of the window on them, on your cheeks. Jayce had been drawing patterns on Mel’s leg, her dress pulled higher and higher. Soft calves, lush thighs, smooth skin. You look away but Jayce catches your eyes. A hungry hazel gaze. You breathe out slowly, quietly. Viktor notices and plays with your free hand. His fingers opening and closing your own. 

“And you?” Mel’s talking to you. Has been for the past couple of minutes it seems. 

“Hmm?” You try to remain nonchalant. It fails, she sees right through you. You know she does. She laughs, a quiet rich sound. Like a bell cleansing the air. 

“Do you want more wine?” She’s getting up, walking towards you. Jayce doesn’t join her but does lean forward to watch. Waiting. 

“Oh! No thank you. This,” You raise your glass,” is plenty.” You sip some partly in show, and partly to quell the sudden dryness in your throat. It doesn’t help. 

Right. It’s a red wine. “Water, maybe, would be nice.” This was going to be a long night. 

“Sure.” Ever the pleasant host, she brings you some. Her hand so warm in contrast to the glass. It lingers there when you grab it. “But some liquid courage might help your nerves.” Fingers ghosting over yours. 

“Viktor?” her voice pulling his attention away from your hand. The fiddling stills. “How do you deal with such a tantalizing pet.” You almost choke on your water. “Easy to tease, I presume?”

The heat on your face multiplies tenfold. Viktor’s hand presses firmly into yours. He keeps his gaze level with hers, waiting until she sits down to answer. 

“The same way you deal with yours.” Oh. Oh it’s happening. It’s happening now. Were you ready for this? You had to be right? You were. He feels you tense, hand moving to your knee. The circles he’s drawing would usually soothe you. Now? They’re lighting a fire. Every inch he’s touching is burning. “Discipline and Reward.” His other hand is on your back now. You regret taking off your coat earlier, despite the heat emanating off your skin. 

“I think we have different rulesets.” You’re looking at Jayce, to see what he’s thinking. But his gaze is on Mel, a lovesick puppy. A man utterly devoted. Her hand is snaking up to his hair, tousling the brown-black locks. He’s leaning back in her touch, humming. Eyes closed. It deepens the swirling in your stomach, and somehow calms your nerves. “Reward and Training.” 

A long night indeed. 

“Well then, how should we start?” She’s standing again, Jayce with her. It’s hard to look at anyone in the room now. You stare at the floor. You feel Viktor pull you up with him and you don’t fight it. Now more than ever you need grounding, direction. And he would give that to you. 

“Perhaps somewhere more comfortable.” Your lover replies. She leads you to Jayce’s room, a couch facing the bed. She gestures for Viktor to take it, it has more room. She wastes no time in starting to disrobe. She was utterly beautiful, all three of them were in their own way. You felt self-conscious. Jayce helps her before shedding his own layers. Viktor’s taking off his shirt, but not his pants. He grabs your face with both hands, looking you in the eyes. Cool thumbs rub circles into your cheekbones, a small smile to soothe you. You reach up and grab his forearms.  It grounds you and he leans closer to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He pulls away when you sigh, much calmer than before. 

“Koloušek, help me with my belt.” It’s a question and not. It’s a command. You’re nodding, hands moving on their own accord. Muscle memory navigating metal and leather. He leans into your ear. “Are you ready?” You nod. Slowly, but you nod. His amber eyes looking into yours. Lids lowering. “Can they touch you?” You’re nodding again, a little faster. You were ready for this. For them. He turns you around, hands gentle on your shoulders and pulls you into his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

“You are wearing too many clothes. Both of you.” It’s Jayce speaking now. He looks to Mel, who’s naked body is stretched along the couch. Like a goddess amongst people, like she lived like this. She gives him a dip of her head, royal hand gesturing at you. Viktor beckons him forward, and softly pushes you back up to Jayce. You try to stand steady, confidently. He’s holding his arms out. As if he was only expecting a hug. His big arms surround you in warmth. He smells like oil and cinnamon and sweat. “I’m nervous too.” his voice reverberates through your body, his chest muffling the murmur you reply with. “But we’re in good hands aren’t we?” You nod and his hands are undoing the strings of your dress. It pools around your feet and despite the lack of clothes you were still too hot already. No bra tonight. You knew it would get in the way. Yet you still had a pair of underwear on. For posterity if not to show that you had nice lacey sets. To present you as a well groomed package. 

Viktor is standing again too, leaning over your shoulder to kiss his fellow scientist. His hands find your chest, your back, the hem of your underwear. He’s pulling them down, and you widen your stance. Lifting a leg when necessary. You were well-trained. You can hear a whine and it’s not your own. It’s Jayce’s. You can’t move. Not that you want to, you’re caught between the both of them, watching Mel watch the three of you. She had a third glass of wine in her hand. 

“Help him out Jayce.” Is all Mel has to say for him to pull away from you and circle behind Viktor. Scruffy kisses on your lover’s neck. You move to sit with Mel, tentatively taking the seat next to her. She’s looking at you with desire and playfulness. A cat with its toy. She sets her glass down and leans towards you. “Don’t be shy. Come here.” Her arms pull you to her, but just enough that she can push you down onto the couch. Your legs are parted open for her to lean in between. Her pretty arms caging you on either side of your head. “Look at them.” Her nose is nudging you to face Jayce and Viktor. The former had Viktor in the same position as you, his pants had been pulled off at some point, forgotten at the edge of the bed. Jayce was kissing him so softly, like you do. It pulls something in your chest. Something hungry. “They look good don’t they?” Her voice is like honey in your ear, soft bites at the column of your throat. 

“Can I touch you?” You barely get it out as a whisper. You feel her smile into your neck, a hand pulling your arm to her chest. An answer. You’re moving slowly, cataloging every curve and dip. You’re trailing down her stomach when she kisses you. She tastes like wine and salted caramel, the dessert from earlier sweetening her breath. You’re whining against her lips, especially when her hands settle on your waist. Your hips buck into hers and she pulls away.

“Do you want your lover back, Viktor?” You mewl at the loss of contact. You’d never kissed someone so soft before. So sweet. “She seems desperate.” She nips at your bottom lip on the last word. When you chase her lips with your own, she pushes you back down. “Uhn-uh-uh. Behave.” Mel doesn’t miss the way you gasp at that. “Eager to please, aren’t you?” You're nodding dumbly at that. Putty in her hands. You’re leaning into her again when she speaks. “Why don’t you go back to the bed and let the men take care of you. Such a pretty girl.” 

The two perk up at that. Separating. Viktor is sitting up, opening his legs and patting his lap. You feel sluggish, head spinning. So much movement happening in such little time. Mel helps you up, waiting for you to cross over before she lays back down. Watching. 

Viktor is holding your legs open with his own. rubbing soothing circles on your hips as Jayce leans down. His puppy dog demeanor is hard to believe when his eyes hold a sweltering heat in them. He looks at you before looking to his partner. You feel Viktor nod at the crook of your shoulder. He's kissing your neck, nibbling on your ear. And Jayce is leaving small love bites on the inside of your thigh. His breath fanning over your obvious arousal, cool on your hot skin.

He spreads you open, fingers dipping dangerously close to your true center. He doesn't push in, just holds you open and stares like it's the finest meal he'll have in years. Mel is watching from the couch, swirling her wine in one hand. When you catch her green gaze you whimper. She hums in response, eyes narrowing in delight.

“Go on Jayce, don't leave the poor girl waiting.” He dives in, slow circles of his tongue to start. The contact has you leaning into Viktor. His hands on your side, moving slowly up to your chest. You can feel him behind you, straining in his boxers. It's hard to think about anything and you've barely started. So many eyes were on you. Two sets of hands. 

"You taste so good” Jayce is slurring over his words, wet slurps against your core. His voice is deep with want. He's speeding up, still not delving into you more than the occasional slip of his tongue. He's focused on your clit, hands rubbing a ticklish spot behind your knees. 

"Tell us more, let her hear your devotion." Mel is trailing one jewelry adorned hand over her breast, she's laying on the couch. Propped up like the muse of a painting. Kneese barely parted. 

"So fucking good. Needed to be here like this. For you." He looks up at you, chin shining with your slick. 

He's growling against your flesh at the eye contact. Eating like a man starved and you can't hide your gasps any longer. You don't know what to say. You don't know if you're supposed to say anything. Viktor's hands find your breasts. Knuckles slowly dragging on the underside of them as he starts to grab at you. His long fingers kneading, pushing and pulling, letting the weight of them shift in his palms. He's whispering something you can't quite understand. Rutting against you when you push back at a hard suck on your clit. He's biting at your ear and your eyes screw shut. 

You're close, already, you realize this and the moan that leaves you is a high keening sound.

"Please."

"No dear, not yet." You open your eyes at that. Your breath is getting harder to control. It doesn't get any easier when you see Mel lower her hand to between her thighs. Her beautiful hand setting a slow pace for herself. She knows she's asking the impossible and offers you a painful mercy. "Jayce, come here." He doesn't move at first, he's still licking at you and you're breathing heavier as you approach the peak. She calls him again, firmer. Sharper. "Jayce." He pulls away, pupils blown open and eyes apologetic as he leaves you to sit with her. She pulls him towards her by his hand, down for a kiss. It's filthy, mouths open, you hear his groan when she deepens it. Your arousal is shared on both their lips now. 

Viktor taps your hip twice for you to get up. Standing on shaky legs you turn to face him. He's freeing himself from his boxers, lithe hands peeling the fabric away. You can't hide the hungry look in your eyes at how pretty he is. Length springing forward and caught in one hand as he beckons with another. You move to straddle him. 

"Impatient. Kneel." Simple words. Observation and command. You whine but follow his order. He's stroking himself slowly, amber eyes almost hidden by blown pupils. He smirks at you, his bottom lip red like he's been biting it this whole time. You're scooching closer to him. 

"Please” you ask again, voice wavering. He doesn't answer you, just puts his good leg forward. You know what he wants. You sit up, straightening your back as you set yourself on the shiny leather of his shoe. 

"Do not move." He tells you. Your legs are sore from being held open by him and Jayce. He knows that. His half-lidded eyes staring down, daring you to disobey. You do your best to listen. A shake has set in your legs as you sink down slowly. The cold of his shoe helps soothe you some. Not much. Want is growing in you by the second as you hear Jayce and Mel behind you. Mel is laughing at something and when you turn around you see why. Jayce is kissing her neck, his beard tickling her ear as he ruts against her stomach. Her elegant arms playing with his hair. He's whimpering, whispering pleas to be inside her. To be good for her. You clench around nothing.

"Don't look at them, look at me." A hand on your jaw. A thumb in your mouth. You're mumbling apologies around it. Tongue swirling around the digit. You're gently grabbing at Viktor’s wrist. Needing to be anchored, eyes watering at his disapproving tone. 

"Koloušek" his voice softens at the tears welling. "It is okay, you are doing so well."

"You just got distracted. It's okay, come here." He pulls you up. He's kissing your face, trailing his fingertips down your back. "Do you want to watch?" He whispers in your ear. You nod fervently. "They are pretty. Yes?" You're whining again, misdemeanor forgotten as heat settles in your core again. He turns you around like you were earlier, holding himself up in one hand. You've done this before. You sink onto him. Back to his chest. The action is slow, every inch of him stretching you open. You let loose a breath at the feeling, mouth opening. Viktor is groaning at the heat of you. When you're flush against him he wraps his arms around you. "Don't move love. Just watch them" you're so full and you feel like you're going stupid. 

He is so warm. Holding you tightly against him. He curses when he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering when you see the two lovers before you. 

Mel is smiling at Jayce, he's already spent himself once on her chest and stomach. The contrast obvious on her skin. They are sitting up, and she's rubbing soothing shapes into his arm. He's nuzzling against her neck again, golden shoulders heaving as he takes deep breaths. She looks at you again, sitting on Viktor's cock. Her eyes are dragging over you, past his hold on you. To where you are connected.  He can't help a thrust when you tighten again, or a second when you let out the most pitiful whine that night. 

"Well aren't we lucky," she's looking at you but speaking to the Zaunite. "Such devoted lovers. Such good listeners." Viktor just hums, chest rumbling against your back. she's reaching down, grabbing hold of Jayce's softening erection. He jumps at the contact, leaning further into her touch. "What should we do?" This time the question is directed at you. She's pumping her hand up and down, softly kissing Jayce’s temples as she awaits your answer. 

"Let him fuck you." You're blushing hard, panting. You want to move so badly. You want to feel Viktor go in and out of you. You want Jayce to make Mel feel bliss. You want bliss. 

"Quite the command." An airy laugh before she lays back down. 

"Well?" She's looking to Jayce "Don't disappoint her." he's climbing over her, lifting her waist up with one arm, one hand curled on her hip as the other lines himself up. He's groaning when he pushes inside. Head falling back, mouth open. Hair stuck to his forehead. It's a beautiful sight. Her eyes fluttering shut as she wraps her legs around him. He's rocking slowly at first. Her little sounds of pleasure joining the heavy breathing of the room. Viktor starts moving too, one hand finding your clit and another holding your hand. Fingers intertwined as he begins to quicken his pace, grinding slow circles into your core, rubbing gently on your bud. It's too much, the visuals, the sounds, the sensation. You don't have time to warn him before you're cumming. You're crying out and squeezing his hand hard. He doesnt stop, just flips you on your back and fucks you through it. His balance is off, kneeling on his good leg. Letting his right leg hang off the bed. He's cursing as your back arches, forcing him deeper into you. "Fuck.” It's quiet at first but he repeats the word over and over as he gets closer. You're thrashing against the bed. It's too much.

Mel is egging Jayce on. You hear the couch start to creak. Telling him he's doing so good, that he feels so good. He's between cries and growling, obviously pushed over the edge too. You can hear his rough sob as he cums, and her gentle groan at the feeling of being filled by him.

Its’ too much. Viktor hasn't stopped either. His thrusts were getting sloppier but he hasn't stopped, you don't know how long you're like that. Dangling over another edge as he pumps into you. You feel a cool hand on your face, brushing hair out of your eyes. You know you must look a mess right now, fucked out of your mind. Someone is kissing you gently, the sensation opposite from how rough Viktor is going. Wine. You taste wine. Mel is kissing your face, telling you how good you're doing. "Do you know how fun it is to see you like this? Behaving so well for us." Jayce is behind her, holding on like he can't bear a second without her. He's eyes are on you. Still dark but soft. Tired and content. He's holding one of your hands rubbing a thumb into your palm. A second, softer orgasm rushes through you, your eyes are watering again.

Viktor's hips stutter at the feeling. He pulls out and strokes himself. Once. Twice. And paints your stomach in his release. He leans back, hands on your thighs as he collects his breath. He looks down at you, covered in him. At Mel cooing over your face. And Jayce pressing himself into both of you. Jayce looks at him, his other arm raised for him to join. He's sore. Exhaustion setting quickly in the room. Talks of everyone bathing later fading as he settles on the bed next to you.

Despite the stickiness of everyone's skin, it's a comfortable piling that happens. A tender silence that fills the room. Breaths even out, soft caresses for everyone’s come down. The first of many nights like this. 

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---------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ -Headcanon Master List·-*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .----------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[lunarthing159]

[ Gunshot, Rosette, & Canvas ]

A VSAU-AU Fanfiction For @rhapsoddity And Community.

Characters: Sheriff/Jimmy, Wither/Sausage, & Spectrum/Scott

Content Warnings: Detail of Injury, Non-Consensual Hypnosis, & Hot AU Men (Thanks Rhaps).

Extra Tag; @wilbygoesbrrrr Take Your Villain Saus Man

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Stillness.

It was all so still.. quiet.. tranquil..

Almost too much so for The Sheriff's tastes. This place is usually bustling with villains, or even simple criminals by this hour.. yet still.. nothing..

Heroes rarely ventured into the alleyways of this part of Empires City, it was labeled 'not of immediate concern' a long time ago and hasn't changed since. "Tch, figures." He would scoff under his breath at the thought. The whole job of heroes is to help people, and yet they ignore the areas that most need help. Typical, unfortunately.

Oh well, that means more work for The Sheriff to do instead. Hooray!..

Making his way from rooftop to rooftop using his lasso, Sheriff scoured his usual rounds, checking each and every alleyway for even the slightest motive. Even hours later, as he was already slowing down and yawning along the way, he kept searching.

He kept moving.

He kept slowing down.

He kept watching.

He kept yawning.

He kept looking.

He kept rubbing his eyes.

The Sheriff kept Searching

And the searching would seem to pay off.

A simple paper, tucked away in an alleyway corner. A letter, it would seem. The alley walls were lightly coated in city moss, adorned with glass panels & windows leaned onto the sides at the dead-end.

Bingo.

Sheriff decended down from atop the building, using his lasso for the first half and some ladders for the second. "There we go!" Picking up the paper, it read as follows;

To my newest accomplice,

I presume your travels have been well. As I last heard of you, all things are set on your end of our plan. The target has been found, we can begin stage two.

Turn around~

There was no time to react.

The moss along the alley walls came to life in an instant, rushing out towards the sheriff. There was no time to dodge. There was no time to flee. Within moments, he found himself bound within the vines, sprouted thorns digging into his clothes and skin.

And he knew exactly who was causing this.

"Hello there, little cowboy."

Wither. The Thorned Rosebush. The Garden of Decay. The Mania Flower.

He wore a scarlet red mask to cover his eyes and a shirt of the same hue, buttoned down just enough to where his upper chest was visible. He adorned a navy coat that flowed down to his knees with a collar that perfectly framed his medium-length brunette hair and beard. And his smile,,, one that terrified the souls of many, any, & all who have found themselves in his path and wake.

No matter his title to you, you only had one option,,, one chance of survival...

To Run.

Sheriff spent as little time as he could to collect his words, even as his body was thrown into the ground and his arms were bound above his head. He did his best to keep up his usual demeanor, to not showcase his fear,,, his terror. "Well hello there, I know I've shown myself to be a fan of ropes, but this is no way to showcase your own~"

"Oh?" Wither seemed to inquire, only stepping closer. Sheriff prayed the other didn't see the nervous gleam his eyes have no doubt obtained. "Then just how should I show you? Just how much would you like to see~?"

Oh. Oh Sheriff was in over his head. Wither kneeled right infront of him, not in some act of bowing, but as almost a tease, a taunt, a flaunt and display of the other's power in this situation. Sheriff darted his eyes around them, looking for any exit to this situation.

Sheriff let out a cry, the vines tightened, but only around his skin. The thorns dug deep into the flesh, drawing blood and loosening just enough to let him bleed. Dispite the many pains Sheriff has found himself in, he couldn't prevent tears welling up in his eyes. They were trapped there because of his mask, and the salt began to burn, bringing more tears to trap themselves.

"Adorable, do keep up the act, vigilant. Your suffering is delicious." Wither would taunt him, bringing a single finger to swipe across his cheek, causing another wound. Only a small slash, but it was all adding up to the pain Sheriff felt.

It was all too much, even for him,,, the act could be kept up no longer. "Stop,,," it felt so pathetic to beg, but he had no other choice. He couldn't try and writhe out, it would only dig the thorns farther into his arms, legs, & torso. He can only sustain so much damage and guarantee he can make it home. It's all he could do,,, all he could do was beg.

And Wither would only seem to grin wider at his suffering. Perhaps he actually did feed from pain? Who could say. "Don't you worry, I have no intentions to hurt you further. Keep your eyes open, Sheriff. It's time for stage 3~"

What?

And there it was, just outside his peripheral, endless colors began to warp where there was previously only darkness. The visuals creeped into his sight, coating the world around him in shifting and spiraling hues. There was nothing to stay latched on to. There was nothing to stay grounded to. There was nothing to stay focused on. It ate away at his focus, only intensifying every moment it stayed. And Sheriff knew exactly who was working together now.

"Hello there, Rosette~. It seems you've done your part rather well."

"no No NO-"

Not him, not them- anyone but Them.

But it was them. It was, in fact, Wither & Spectrum,,, working together... for... what? What would they need? What could they want? What,,, does Sheriff have to do with this? He,,, didn't know.

And somehow, that terror,,, it distracted him. The world around him began to shift, nothing stayed the same too long. He could hardly make out the walls of the alleyway anymore, only colors,,, endlessly shifting colors,,, endlessly moving colors,,, endlessly spiraling colors,,,

It was... mesmerizing, and any normal person would have fallen victim right here and now. But Sheriff wasn't normal, at least not like this. There had to be a way out, he had to stay strong-

Wither moved to be behind him, wrapping his arms around The Sheriff in a grapple almost adjacent to a hug. Sheriff struggled to not lean into this embrace. Spectrum made his way infront of The Sheriff, gently cupping the other's face within his palms. Sheriff desperately tried to avoid looking as deep as he could into such beautiful eyes. Both villains whispered words to The Sheriff, he tried not to listen, he couldn't hear them, he listened, he couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Hush, --wboy"

"J--- -isten"

"-o thin---g"

"Relax n--"

"D--'t str--gle"

"Fall~."

And fall he did, ever so simply. The colors coated his mind so easily, covering up any thought he may have had and preventing him from forming new ones. They kept swirling in his vision, trapping his mind within it's spirals, falling farther and farther down. All will of fight left his limbs, falling limp within the hold of the one behind him. The world and all in it seemed to fade away as he kept falling further away from it.

His mouth would stay gently open, no tension to keep his jaw closed. His eyes would lose focus, not looking at anything in particular as the world itself seemed to escape him. No thoughts to form, no form to fight, no fight to give. The Sheriff, He could only Be.

Mossy vines untangled themselves from his flesh, retreating back to their posts along the alley walls. Two grins faced the empty husk of a figure, as they knew their plan had succeeded. The bright magenta hue that overwhelmed a previous eye color spoke it all.

They just got a new little puppet~

<> <> <> <> <> <>

Ello! Thanks For Reading! Hope Y'all Enjoyed Your VSAU-AU Villain Yaoi Scosage / Toxic Flytrap Husbands Content :>

[jensensfanfic]

hi! if you're still taking daniel requests, could you write something where he and the reader are in their early-mid 20s and find out they're gonna be parents? maybe the reader gets the news at the doctor's office and surprises daniel when he gets home from work? wholesome domestic scenarios my beloved <3 thanks you!!!

LITTLE BEAN

pairing: daniel larusso x fem!reader

warnings: set in the present, daniel/reader are mid 20s but want kids, pregnancy, little mentions of anxiety - but it's just reader being nervous. not edited - i finished it mid work shift 😶

a/n: can we pretend he's mid 20s in that gif, please, despite the fact he doesn't age and looks so young lol. i don't write pregnancy fics often, so i it hope this is okay. i'm also worried i didn't stay true to his character... but again, i hope it's okay for you!!

—★•°°•☆°••°★•°°•☆°••°★—

The journey home from the doctor's office feels like a lifetime. Every second seems to tick by at a snails pace. The usual bus ride home only takes around 20 minutes, and today is no different. There's not much traffic, and more than half of the seats are empty, but somehow, time moves so much slower.

You pull out your phone to check for any new messages and hope to see one from Daniel, but there's nothing yet. You assume this means he's working a little later. For a moment, this bothers you... until you get an idea. You'd wanted Daniel to be at home for the surprise at first, but this way, maybe you would have time to set up something special.

You type a quick text to Daniel, asking him how long he'll be. He responds quickly, and you figure out you have just under an hour to pull together what you can.

You get off the bus one stop before home, and head into your local supermarket. At the back of the store is a bakery, where you ask for a pre-baked cake to be decorated with two simple words. The friendly woman behind the counter pipes the words in pink and blue frosting and takes only ten minutes or so to finish it. You thank her as she hands over the box with a smile on her face and congratulates you.

Next, you pick up a pack of sharpies and some balloons from the party aisle that are the same colours as the frosting on your cake. Then you head to the section you'll no doubt be frequenting over the next few months... nay, years. You try to be quick, but the shelves of cute stuffed animals leave you spoiled for choice and very indecisive. You question if you even need one, but before you can walk away, you spot the perfect option.

You pick up the soft little toy sheep, giggling, then run your fingers over the material of the gi it wears. "Perfect."

Honesty, if you'd seen the little guy before, you'd have bought it ages ago.

After paying for everything, you head for your apartment, with enough time to spare to sort everything out.

You tie some of the pink and blue balloons together and put them in the living room, next to the coffee table where you've set the cake. With the sharpies, you draw and write cute little messages on them. You lay two plates, two forks, and two napkins next to it, along with a knife. Then, you decide to put on one of your favourite outfits. One you'd usually wear on a date night, something that would definitely make Daniel curious when he came home to see it.

You take a deep breath and take out one last thing from the pocket of the coat you'd hung up by the front door. You gaze at the image in wonder while your free hand smooths over your stomach.

You move to go and find somewhere to put it, but then there's the sound of keys jingling and the opening of the front door. You move your hands behind your back and watch as Daniel enters your home, a frown already forming on his face.

"Oh. Hey, babe. Are you off somewhere?" He kicks off his shoes and shuts the door behind him, opening his arms for a hug. You wrap your arms around him, peck his lips, and then step back, careful not to drop or reveal the gift. "Is it date night? Oh, god, did I forget?"

"Uh, no. No, but I do have a surprise for you."

"Aw, thank you babe. Can I sit first?" You stop him with a hand on his chest when he looks towards the living room. He looks down at your hand and cocks his head like a curious puppy. "Uh..."

You chuckle nervously. "Ha. Sorry, but not just yet. Here. I bought you something."

Swiftly, you bring the toy from behind your bag and hold it between you, wiggling the sheep's little legs and smiling. Daniel's eyes light up at the simple, yet meaningful gift. He grins and laughs. "Oh, my God. A karate sheep? That's amazing!"

He takes if gratefully, inspecting the little patch on the gi. "Hm. Maybe Mr Miyagi can sew a mini bonsai patch for it. This flower patch is cute and all but this little guy has to be a Miyagi-Do student."

You snort and chuckle at him, thrilled that he likes his first surprise, but then your mind immediately switches to the second. The subject of your other gift is something you've both talked about for about a year now. Both of you want it, but it doesn't halt the anxiety that sits heavy in your chest. There is always the chance that Daniel may have changed his mind.

"Hey, babe?" You take a deep breath and reach up to cup his jaw, bringing his attention back to you. He sets the toy sheep on top of the shelf by the front door and brings his hands down to your waist, running circles there with his thumbs. "I have something else for you."

"Why do you seem so nervous? Whatever it is, I'll love it. You know I will."

"Come on." One final blow of air, and you take his hand, turning around and leading him to the room where the balloons and cake are waiting. "So..."

Daniel's mouth falls open. He glances between each balloon, reading the drawn-on letters that say things like, 'oh, baby', 'hey, daddy'. On some of them, you'd drawn little baby faces that look similar to the emoji.

He doesn't say a word yet, but you no longer feel that worry as he smiles, then laughs, then goes silent once more. He slowly sits down on the sofa and stares at the cake for a few moments. In blue and pink, the frosting reads, "WE'RE PREGNANT".

"Is this... are you... I mean, are you messing with me?" Daniel shoots up again, rounding the sofa to see you. "Please, this isn't a joke, is it?"

"No!" You snicker, then look up into his eyes. Your own eyes are full of promise, excitement, and... starting to water. "I wouldn't do that, I swear. Look, I have a picture."

"You have a picture already? Let me see." He makes grabby hands and you reveal your still-hidden hand from behind your back. "Oh..."

"The doctor said I'm 4 or 5 weeks." Tears start to fall from your eyes and you decide to take a seat on the sofa, your stomach filling with butterflies and your knees starting to feel weak at the way Daniel is looking at you.

"He looks like a little bean."

"'He'?" He joins you on the sofa, placing the photo down on the table. "You think it's a boy?"

"I have a feeling."

"This soon?" You laugh, dabbing at the corners of your eyes with gentle fingertips.

"Yep, but either way, I'm gonna be the best Daddy for the little bean, I promise." His eyes flicker to your stomach and he splays a hand out on your skin. "Hear that, bean? I love you so much. Your Mum, too. And I can't wait to meet you."

"Danny..." You fully burst into happy sobs and fling your arms around him. You giggle and repeatedly kiss the back of his neck. "I can't believe I thought for a second you wouldn't be happy about this."

"Of course I am, sweetheart." You feel the movement when he chuckles. "We didn't try to have a baby to... not have a baby."

"I still thought maybe–"

"Shh." He leans into the crook of you neck. "No, no, no. I'm so happy, baby. I can't wait to start this family with you." He kisses you back a couple of times before pulling away slightly. "Can we eat some cake now, it looks delicious."

You nod and he releases you, but keeps a hold of one of your hands. As he cuts a piece of cake for you, he lifts his brows and says, "You know what else? I can't wait to see our child lifting that All Valley trophy."

—★•°°•☆°••°★•°°•☆°••°★—

[natashaslesbian]

Christmas Lies

Summary: your school friend tells you a devastating secret

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings: (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (PeterParker x Reader)

Warnings: none :))

————

The snow hadn’t quite settled on the grass yet, but a faint white blanket still laid atop the field carrying your favourite playground. Everyday on the way home from school you would beg your mom to take you, just for five minuets. This was Natasha’s next clue that something was wrong. The city had long ago passed and the car was now scraping along the icy cobbled road up to the Avengers compound. After mothering you as mothers do about your coat, even for a 20 second walk, you had finally made it home. Peter, in record time, had also just made it back and was preparing you your afterschool snack. “Hey little spider” he called “look what I’ve got, chocolate pop tarts with extra sprinkles” if not only for the pop tarts, you would usually be ecstatic to see Peter. He was your favourite person, after mama of course. “y/n?” Natasha said “what do you say?” You looked between both avengers, a silent conversation took place “I think someone’s a little tired” your mommy said “well we can’t have a tired y/n now can we, why don’t you go take a nap with mr webs and I’ll save your pop tarts for later?” Peter said. You nodded and reached for him, asking spider man to take you for your nap. It was no surprise to Nat, she knew how much you loved him, and she trusted that Peter would take care of you. “Have a good nap sweetheart” the red head said as Peter lent over with you in his hold, allowing Natasha to peck your cheek “I’ll come and wake you up soon ok”

You didn’t take a nap. Once Peter left you pulled back the duvet and headed to your small desk, pulling gently on the bottom draw. Silently you pulled out a small stack of letters, each one addressed to Santa. The tears started to fall once more as you returned to your plush bed. Downstairs, Natasha was confiding in her best friend. “Something’s wrong with her I know it, ever since she came out of school today I could tell something was off” the assassin said “you just have to ask her Nat” Clint said as he passed over a steaming cup of coffee “she might just have been tired” he said “I know” Natasha continued “but after last time” “this isn’t like last time” the agent cut in “it wasn’t your fault she got sick” the pair sunk into the couch “I should’ve seen the signs, what if something is really wrong again” Clint retook the coffee before Nat even had the chance to sip the hot liquid “go check on your girl” he said.

“Y/n?” Your mom quietly said as she opened your bedroom door “are you awake?” You rolled to face your pink walls, you didn’t want to see her right now. A small crumble under her foot caused Natasha to look down. She saw the remains of scattered letters across the floor “y/n? What are these?” The redhead said as she crouched down to pick a piece up “baby are these your letters to Santa? Why are they all ripped up?” your mama took her uninvited seat on your bed, the wet patch next to your face causing a crack in her heart “y/n, can you look at mommy please?” She begged. You pulled the duvet up above your head, causing Natasha to try a different tactic “ohh y/n” she cooed “I think the… tickle monster is here!” She went straight for your tummy, your weak spot, the spot that would usually have you laughing hysterically. But not today. “Mama stop it” you said beneath the covers “it’s the tickle monster y/n oh no!” Her playful voice had you itching to climb into her arms “No mama! You lie to me!” You yelled as you reappeared with a giant frown, Natasha froze “what do you mean baby?” She asked “you lied to me” you said as you began to cry again “you told me Santa was real but he’s not” you howled. The widow wasn’t prepared for this conversation yet, she thought she still had a few more years to play pretend “who- who told you that?” You wiped your runny nose “Tommy. At school” you said “why did you lie mommy?” You completely broke down and Natasha scooped you into her arms with no hesitation, and with no push back from you.

“I’m sorry I lied to you y/n” your mama said “it was wrong of me and mommy shouldn’t have done it” you grizzled quietly in her arms “I forgive you mama” you whimpered “thank you darling, but hey you listen to me” Natasha said as she shifted you to meet her gaze “just because Santa isn’t real doesn’t mean you can’t believe in him, and it doesn’t mean the magic isn’t real” her soft fingered wiped your tears “the magic is real?” You said “of course it is!” Your mommy beamed “it’s in the snow and the presents and the food, it’s in the music and the lights, and most of all it’s in here” Nat said as she laid her hand across your chest. “I just wanted you to feel it too” you moved your head towards your moms chest and listened to her heartbeat “I feel it mama” you said “you know when I was little, I didn’t have any of the magic, but for a few years I had Santa” Natasha said as she swaddled you up “I waited up for him every Christmas. After the 5th time, I gave up. I stopped believing. I shouldn’t have lied baby girl, but I just wanted you to have the magic that I never did” you returned the favour and wiped one of mamas fallen tears “mommy don’t cry” you said “I believe in the magic” Natasha smiled again “good” she said “because I promise you, there is magic in Christmas”

A little while passed before Natasha spoke again “if you want to sweetheart, we can still believe in Santa, we can be Santa” your little eyes lit up “we can?” Your mama nodded “can Fanny be our Rudolph?” You asked “I’m sure if you ask auntie Yelena she’ll say yes!” You giggled “and we can get everyone stockings and fill them up on Christmas Eve after everyone has gone to sleep!” You beamed “that sounds amazing darling” Natasha said “I guess we’ll even have to eat the cookies won’t we” she whispered, sending you into a fit of laughter. The two of you stayed wrapped up in your room for the rest of the night, and it was safe to say you couldn’t wait for Christmas Eve, you couldn’t wait to bring santas magic to life.

————

[noowayybroo]

Vampire Man Drabble (NSFW)

I've been rewatching Young Dracula, a BBC show from my "childhood".

I'm kinda obsessed with Count Dracula. I know it's a kid's show but he's so pathetic and whiny and throws so many tantrums, but being such an old man he's so sexy and posh and UGHAAGAH HE HAS MY HEART!!

Also , the guy who plays him (Keith-Lee Castle) Lowkey fits the role so well!!?!?! He looks like SUCH A VAMPIRE!! (I wouldnt look him up idk if hes the best guy)

SO I WANTED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SOME IDEAS, and i know most of my following is admittedly looking for Leon content, so if you squint really hard, or maybe read this with one hand if you catch my drift (nyeh heh heh) maybe you can imagine it's about vampire Leon HEhehehehe

Warnings: Guy is vampire, reader may be human or vampire. NO SEX BUT VIOLENCE. GN!Reader, mentions of scenting, old age, violence, age difference, vampirism, blood, biting, seduction, mentions of death and killing and blood driking. Secretly soft vampire man etc basically all your vampirey shit, STOP READING THEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT BRO, I'll try keep it short k ily bye.

THIS IS A GUIDE:

Stuff about the vampire man

Stuff about the reader being a vampire

Stuff about the reader being a human

THIS IS A RARE TREAT FOR ANYONE READING THIS CUZ I USUALLY LIKE TO WEAR THE FANGS IN THE RELATIONSHIP!! JUST SAYING!! BUT THIS MF HAS MY HEART!

Vampire who was turned at a young age or born into vampirism and has lived with it for oh so long. He's just so old, alone in that castle of his. He's moved to live near humans, but they seldom get a chance to converse, not before his fangs wind up in their necks.

Vampire who watches them go about their short little lives, knowing with confidence that he has and will live many more. Aware that he'll be the end to many more, deadly prowess easily eliminating each hunter or slayer who dares come his way.

Vampire of whom nobody has seen the true colours - only the pristine white of his fangs before they are soiled with the blood of his victims. They only know his rage and strength, and the power and force at which his claws slash at their flesh, at which his fangs sink into their necks.

Vampire who prefers to seduce his victims before plunging them towards their inevitable demise. He will sing them such a sweet lullaby; allure them with gentle praise and affirmation as he draws close, weaving such a sticky web, leaving them entranced. And entranced he is too, as his victim perhaps gazes from a window, or into space itself, but his only captive is the soft melody of his victim's heartbeat. The gentle rhythm, the pulse of their neck drawing him to them like a moth to flame.

Vampire Who almost feels like the victim himself. He was not a monster. He was no villain. No, he was simply wired this way - a victim of his own nature. It was his prey, the cruel, heartless beast who tempted him so dearly with the promise of 8 pints of warm, thick red (accounting for clumsy, desperate spillage.) Oh how he delighted in the feel of it coating the expanse of his hungry throat.

Vampire Whose second favourite method of the hunt is to toy with his prey, for it is no fun if they are not fearful. His cold, undead heart remains unliving for the thrill of the chase. He'll stalk them through the night, he'll become one with the shadows, and only when he feels they are worthy of feeling true fear will he present himself. Springing from the darkness, his soul's only twin, he reveals himself at last like a god unto its disciples.

He will forever delight in the screams - in the sight of each harrowed soul in that moment.

Vampire who is humiliatingly theatrical and old fashioned. When he bears himself to his prey, he must give them a show. It's the least he could do, as it will be their last living moment. He'll either expand his cape, or brandish sharp claws, but either way, his eyes will be dark as night, and piercing fangs will ward off any hope of survival each sacrifice may have had.

Vampire who takes great excitement in tormenting his prey. He is old fashioned, cunning and sly. He'll chase you around an abandoned building and use his supernatural speed to appear right behind the door you thought would bring you victory. He'll mock you with a skeleton, only to refer to it as a future you. If you're fortunate, and he's not too hungry, he might even show you his vast collection of stored blood. Again, he promises that one day, you have this to look up to.

Vampire Surprisingly, he is not as violent or as cruel as it may seem. Sure he kills, and he kills for fun. For the mere thrill of it. But he will not let you die slowly, or painfully at all. He prides himself in how... happy, his victims really can be. His torture follows suit. Scratch you? Harm you? Him? Never. He could never. He wouldn't waste a drop, after all. (Intentionally, that is.) He'd much rather promise you a terrible demise, or chase you towards your doom, having you believe begging or running could really help. His many years have taught him that each effort you make is futile. He will always win. He will always consume. You are not special.

Vampire who sometimes, well after sunset, will stare out of his lonely, dusted window at the town below. He will wonder if it could be possible that there is a chance at love out there for him still. A chance at redemption. A chance to, perhaps, not be so devilish.

On rare occasions, too, say once every 20 years, he thinks this as he stares into the eyes of one of his captives. He'll wonder, sometimes as he hypnotises their free will and thought away, whether he really needs to kill them. But then it's that look on their face. One of fear, or one of braindead submission. It's again, the sound of their heart, of their breath, something he hadn't done in forever, something he yearned to be so close to, to be so near to, and before he knows it, they're limp in his arms, and cold, just as he.

Vampire who throws tantrums on the rare occasion that his prey, or more likely another undead creature or demon, is able to overpower or trick him. He'll slam his fist like a child and bare his fangs. Wailing and wallowing in his own pathetic defeat as black curtains obscure his face. Thunder and lightning will crackle outside, heeding his call, and otherwise, the world will resume. It was sad for him, really, to have so much power, and at the same time to be so insignificant.

Vampire who, despite being immortal, is getting old. He doesn't care for sports, nor for going outside and exercising as a human would. When he chases at a speed, he more floats rather than runs, and so, he's getting rusty, physically and mentally. Perhaps that explains the demise of his fearsome reputation and outlook. Perhaps it is why he is going soft. Laughlines rarely show, but small crowsfeet grace his pale skin as he smiles or bares his fangs. His joints begin to creak. He can no longer do some of the things he could when he was a younger biter without being heard, and he grumbles at simple tasks such as tidying or standing up. He ages with the walls around him.

Vampire Reader Insert:

Vampire who catches a fleeting glance of you at a traditional vampire ball. Really, the two of you are too old for these pathetic customs, him more so, but how else was he to catch up on all the latest fanged gossip, and perhaps find an evil someone to accompany him as he grew older?

Vampire who afterwards goes out of his way to make eye contact with you. When he thinks you're not looking, he combs his nimble fingers through his long hair, preening himself, cursed to never be able to see himself in the many mirrors that surround him. He curses himself, adjusting his over the top attire, wiping any blood from his face. He wants to catch your gaze, just as you have his.

Vampire who can (respectfully) smell it on you. He can tell that you're strong, and that you're dominant. He never thought he was looking for someone, really, especially with his strength and title. It had only really occurred to him that anybody interested would be there to use him. And then, he saw you. Something about you was so devilishly evil. So charming. So alluring and strange. He didn't care if you used him. He wanted you to, suddenly he wanted you to take all he had.

Vampire who anxiously makes conversation with you. He is respectful, despite being well above your status. He can't keep his eyes from your body and face, nor his tongue from his lips as it darts to keep them moist. Quietly, he hopes you're taking note. His hands fiddle and preen. He needs you to enjoy what you see, for it is so rare for him to do so.

Vampire who eventually you begin to court. He practically begs you to move in with him, forming his castle as a home for the two of you. No longer is he alone. Even if you were to betray him now and take all he had, he kept some satisfaction in knowing he wouldn't die alone. Perhaps one day, too, an heir would come from all of this.

Vampire who shares with you some of his powers and wisdom. Who accompanies you on hunts and who works with you to lure prey. You enjoy romantic, playful flights together (as bats, of course) and he, without admitting it, enjoys your dark humour and evil presence in his home. You bring a smile to his face, and a blush to his dead cheeks. You're oh so beautiful and precious in his life, and as more and more time passes, he can imagine giving everything to you.

But what if you're evil, and planned to take everything all along? Well, that would be a fitting demise for him, he thinks as he slowly closes the lid to his coffin beside yours just before the sun rises. And it'd make you all the more evil and devious of a sinner, and that's what he loved about you. Your company, even if not genuine, for love was so twisted and warped for creatures such as yourselves, meant more than words could ever express. If he were human. If he were pumping blood, you would warm him.

Human reader here!!

Vampire who'd never have thought any other humans would be foolish enough to simply let themselves into his castle, at least not this decade! You were the third one this century and it was really getting old. He'd think with all the rumours going around about people never returning alive, or the danger of the castle's crumbling structure that nobody would come back, at least not alone, but here you were.

Vampire who can hear you from rooms away as you walk in. You're human and you're alone. That's all he needs to know to identify that he's safe, and so, he creeps towards you. He balances with both hands and feet on ledges above your head, blending perfectly with the shadows as he stalks you like some huge, predatory cat. And he does this until he can see you. You look divine. You smell divine. And really, he questions the work of some divine intervention, as he was just craving fresh blood the moment you walked in: A lamb to the slaughter.

Vampire who identifies that the blatantly open castle door was how you got in. He didn't really feel the cold, and the wind howling was a permanent sound with how high in the castle he tended to reside, so silly him had left the door open. You must have really thought this place was abandoned. He almost pities you as you walk around, shining your phone's flashlight about. He just about ducks away in time to avoid being spotted as you point your phone at him, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you, ready to pounce.

Vampire who held off, though. He was excited by your presence, and he was oh so hungry, but he was always one to play with his food. He continues to follow you through the shadows, practically salivating and his bustling ideas of how to torment and devour 'this one.' Because, initially, that's all you were to him, food.

Vampire who daydreamt (although it was night) about chasing you through his crypt, hearing your screams for mercy and salvation. He could sit there and munch dead carcasses in front of you just to watch you squirm in horror. He mused to himself about how warm your neck would feel to his lips, and how your blood might taste. He considered how your voice may sound, begging to be freed as he holds you there, firm hands on your shoulders, claws pricking at your soft flesh. He imagines you there, before him, ripe for the taking. The last moment, he opens his eyes and you're gone-

You're gone.

What?

Vampire who looks around desperately, realising that he'd so easily been swept away by his fantasies. And so, he follows your scent and the sound of your soft heartbeat to his room, where, he could swear he hears you murmur "I knew it."

Vampire who catches you gawking at his closed coffin, regal and fancy. You run your small hands over it in awe as if there isn't a blood thirsty creature of the night ready to pounce out and devour you. You seem.. in awe. You look fascinated. Of course, there's a twinge of terror in your face, but for some reason, you haven't run... yet.

Vampire who figures the game is up, and tries to salvage a dramatic entry. He can't appear in the coffin and reveal himself like that, incase you're a slayer and it leaves him vulnerable, and so, from behind you you hear:

"And what brings you to my humble abode?" The question is long, and drawn out, in a posh voice that almost makes you giddy. You can hear the bloodlust dripping from his fangs, and you don't need to turn to see the man who's so close he should be gracing you with his breath. None comes. you know what he is.

Vampire who grins sadistically as you turn on your heels, slowly. He is amused to see the fear finally registering in your features. Oh, and how soft and delicate those features were. He could just reach a hand out and brush his cold digits over them. But he won't. This isn't a time to console you. It's time to instil fear in your soon to be dead heart.

Vampire who gawks when you finally respond to his question. Something absurd about knowing there was a vampire living here. Something ludicrous about actually having visited a few times but never seeing him. Something utterly offensive about whether he lived alone or had a family. The man's jaw clenched. It seemed he had never encountered a victim as chatty or simply curious as you, and he didn't quite know how to feel.

Did you WANT to die or something?

Vampire who towers over you, with eyes wider than your own as he listens to you rattle off about something or other. He doesn't register what you're saying, though. Instead, his mind wonders off to somewhere it never has before. Perhaps, he'll hypnotise you to make you scared, and then he'll have his fun with you. Yes, that should work, because right now, he found you far too distracting.

Vampire who realises, once you've shut up, that actually, there's a more nagging matter:

"Are you here... to kill me?" he asks, looking down at you, shoulders slightly deflated as though you've sucked the prowl out of him.

"Like a slayer?"

"Exactly-" he raises a finger that could really do with a manicure, but you cut him off

"No, not at all, it's just when I heard people went missing... well I just thought this place would be perfect to see a vampire." In all honesty, you kept yapping away in hopes that tears would not prick your eyes and that somehow it'd save you from imminent collapse. You were terrified. He seemed very much real.

Whilst you were in admiration of the pale beast before you, you did not intend to die.

Vampire who fortunately for him isn't letting on just how well you crept under his skin and made a small home there. His senses were conflicted, as a result of your mixed signals, and he wasn't sure how to react. You were scared, he could smell it. He could hear it in the heavy fast thump of your heart. But something else had brought you here. You were curious. Intrigued. You wanted to learn about him, and in a way, he related. He wanted to learn about himself.

Vampire who, whilst he is still very much appealed by the idea of biting into your throat, is starting to enjoy how your hushed voice echoes off the walls of his home. You sounded sweet and pure, unlike any vampire he'd encountered recently. You had a passion. You had a reason to live, and it almost sickened him with jealousy.

Vampire who can no longer fight his newfound impatience as he lets out an animalistic growl, clenching his fist before you with means to silence you, and to his relief, it works. Your mouth slams shut and you stare up into his eyes. He recognises that this, if any, is his perfect time to hypnotise you, and to fix things. That's right. You'd forget everything you've seen and heard, because your words made you slippery, and he feared for his own existence if you escaped, and then, you'd be scared of him. He'd toy with you, kill you, and it'd be over with. Then, he'd be happy once more, and could return to his coffin, without any linger questions of "what if?".

Vampire who waves two fingers before your eyes, ensnaring them and guiding them up to fall onto his. You watch as his dark, brooding eyes become a more perplexing, strange and beautiful colour. A look of mischief tugs at his sharp, dark lips. He has won. Now, he'll hypnotise you, and it'll be over with. Why did he keep telling himself this? It was starting to become tiresome- just do it.

Vampire who freezes up when he hears you enquire about whether he know the science behind his eyes changing colour like that. You swear a vein in his forehead is about to pop. His mouth hangs ajar, defeated. "Look, you, just look into my eyes" he commands, almost pleading in that sultry, dark voice. "Just look and obey..."

Vampire who stares at you for a while, staring into those pretty, captivating eyes of yours. He finds himself lost in the possibility of what to command you, and once he's finally ready to will the words, they disobey him. His mouth moves, but no commands grace your ears. Eventually, you blink, the spell is broken and he clasps his fists shut, growling low in his throat.

Why can't he do it?

Vampire who gives in, providing you with a tour of the castle and all of his ancient belongings. The understanding is that once he's done, you leave, and never tell anybody anything. He wasn't sure if he trusted in you, but hypnosis was out of the question. And since his ordeal of failing to control you, he'd felt quite humiliated. His hunger had been somewhat satiated for now.

Vampire who hides his scarce smile each time you make certain remarks about how gothic, deadly or edgy everything looked. Your modern lingo was beyond him. "Cringe", "Edgy", "Rad", "Babygirl", what did it all mean? At one point, whilst you're analysing a particularly old suit of armour, he stands behind you, arms folded and lips pursed, trying to conclude the meaning behind the umbrella term "Daddy issues" and why you felt the need to mention it to him on now an astounding three separate occasions. When you turned to face him though, he'd stiffen his gate and fix you a menacing glare as if he despised of your company.

Vampire who walks alongside you with perfect posture, his arms are often crossed or still by his side. Occasionally he glances at your neck as he concludes a whole half hour of walking his dinner around his rather shameful home. And then, you both find yourselves at the door. You look up at him, he looks down at you, and then you do something neither of you'd expected.

"Can I stay?"

Vampire who freezes up yet again at your question, but after some stumbling and stuttering, and getting his tongue tied up in his fangs, he reluctantly spits out a 'yes.' All the while, his face contorts, unable to form the words. It's so peculiar speaking at all, let alone to a human. And, he can't say he's ever spoken to one willing to continue risking their lives. You weren't sure why you did it. You just did.

Vampire who stands with you, watching over the town beneath his window, for once, with someone beside him. He seems stiff, and tense, and he cannot ignore your scent, nor the sound of each gentle breath and pulse of your veins. It was only natural: He was your predator, you were his prey. He was meant to kill you now, merely driven by instinct, and yet, he felt content to wait. I mean, it wasn't as if you'd run off in a hurry, was it? For once, a breather like you actually wanted to stay and speak to him. He was almost enamoured.

Vampire who swore to himself in this moment to never admit to another soul, dead or alive, light or dark, how your warmth touched him. He refused to allow himself to snuggle right into you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you and nestling his face into your neck, not to bite or mark this time, but to kiss, and indulge- softly, sweetly. He groaned at the thought, startling you. And then his face hardened, snapping you another glare as if you were the one who had been having such pathetic fantasies.

Vampire who understands that, as a human, you grow weary in the night. He'd forgotten all this time that putting you to sleep would be a great way to shut you up, but there was a reason for his forgetfulness. It was, of course, convenient, because he no longer wanted to silence you. He wanted to bask in your words and warmth; in your conversation and curiosity. You made him feel important, and interesting, and slightly more alive. But the sun would be up soon, and if it caught him, well. He'd be the furthest from alive he's ever been.

Vampire who quickly brushes off and tucks you into the softest bed he can find from memory, and taps you on the nose gently as he leans over you, casting ominous shadows which block out any hopeful rays. He laughs menacingly, brandishing his fangs as his deep gravelly voice reverberates through you "Goodnight, don't let the vampire bite, now, will you?" he teases as he slowly sinks into the shadows, leaving you alone. His low chuckle follows him into the dark.

Vampire who leaves you alone to rest peacefully, or not, depending on whether a) you COULD sleep, and b) he became hungry during the night.

Vampire who spends the rest of his waking moments wondering just what to do with you, until the sun rises, and he returns to his cold, depressing coffin.

Hi guys I really hope whoever of you saw that liked it. I had the idea at about midnight and it's now 2 27 am. I wish I were this productive with literally anything else but due to a series of unfortunate events I crave old, posh, dominant men with soft spots, and this fits the bill.

I'd also like to write more about vampy men, and about maybe teachers or just other older men heheh but also subby men!! and the reader being a vampire!! so please lmk what you think and don't be afraid to ask (just a warning your rq might take me 24747 years to address, it's not personal i just suck)

THANKS GUYS I LOVE U ALL

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Mistake, Regret, or Something to that Level

PROOF-READ CREDIT TO: @waiting-makes-me-antsy Thank you!!

Albert/Davey UNREQUITED, prequel to Goodbye Don't Last Forever

kinda angsty, enjoy.

David was lost. Completely and totally lost. How was he supposed to carry on when the center of his world just up and left without a word to him?

He didn't really know how to cope long term, but he knew that a visit to his best friend's house might just help.

Ever since Francis left David (a year ago), David and Albert had become the closest of friends (except for Race and Albert, but Race was off in Australia being an impressive dancer). The two were almost inseparable. Seeing one or the other alone was a rare occurrence which was usually met by some sort of joke about how joint at the hip the two boys were.

So David was on his way to Albert's apartment in January, wearing flannel sweatpants and a sweatshirt with a cute snake drawing on the front (Albert gave it to him). It was cold, and snowy, and he regretted not putting on a coat or a hat or anything, but it wasn't far to Albert's place.

By the time David knocked on the door, he thought he was going to die of the cold, but Albert saw him and immediately pulled him into the apartment and handed him a blanket.

"Dave, are you alright?" Albert asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch.

"No." David leaned sideways onto Albert, burying his face in his shoulder.

"Oh, come here." Albert put an arm around David. "You need to get drunk."

"Yeah I do."

...

Several hours (they think) later, the two are flat-out wasted.

David got honest when he got drunk, and never remembered anything afterwards, and Albert just got crazy (and maybe a little more confident).

"What if she was the only one I was meant to be with?" David asked.

"She wasn't." Albert laughed like it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard.

"But nobody could love me like I thought she did."

"But I love you." Albert's smile spread across his face. "You're my best friend."

"But don't people in love kiss? And boys can't kiss boys."

"I've kissed boys."

"Oh."

The boys fell silent, and then Albert burst into laughter again.

"What's so funny?" David asked (but he was smiling).

"Would you kiss me if I was a girl?"

"I would kiss anything if it were Francis."

"So pretend I'm her, then. It'll make you feel better to kiss someone."

"But-"

Albert cut Davey off with a deep, drunk kiss on the mouth.

And Davey liked it.

Davey wanted more of that feeling.

So he kissed back.

He could do whatever he wanted, he decided. It wasn't like there was anyone to tell him no, except for Albert who had initiated the kiss.

Very quickly, the kiss turned into more. Shirts unbuttoned, hands in hair, and the possibility of several purple marks to appear in the morning.

"Should we keep going?" Albert asked.

Davey blamed it on the fact that he was drunk that he said yes.

...

David woke up not in his bed. Albert's bed, he knew, from the many times he'd slept over.

David immediately felt guilty wash over him. Had he seriously kicked Albert out of his own bet just to fuck some girl that was not even there anymore? He didn’t really know, he couldn’t really remember, but it was fairly obvious in his mind that he had fucked someone. And Albert didn't do well with change in routine, Davey knew that. He was feeling worse and worse about it the more he thought, so he made a move to get up and go apologize.

The headache was not good as he stood up out of the bed and headed into the kitchen area of the apartment.

“Sorry for taking up your bed last night Al.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” Albert smiled. He handed David a glass of water and two ibuprofen pills. “This might help a bit.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“So. Uhm. Happen to know the identity of the girl I slept with in your bed last night or…”

Something flashed across Alberts face. Hurt. But he picked up quickly with a laugh.

“You should be asking who the guy was.”

“The… A guy?”

“Yessir.”

“Okay so uh who was this potential guy that I-“

Albert pressed a quick kiss to the tip of David’s nose, quieting him.

“Hi there.” He said with a little smile.

(Albert was dying inside. He wasn't this forward. He wasn't this confident. He wasn't this person who was flirting shamelessly with his best friend.)

“Oh.”

“Is that… is that okay?”

“Al, I… I didn’t even know- But I don’t even remember it so how am I supposed to know what it felt like? I don’t-“

“I could kiss you again.”

“What?”

“I said I could kiss you again.”

David didn’t respond, so Albert just cupped his face in his hands and kissed him.

Pulling away after a moment, David blinked. “Is that what that’s supposed to feel like? I never- it was never like that with her.”

“Good way or bad way?”

“Good.”

“Well, Dave. It must be really confusing for ya, all this. But… I’d like to help you along the way, if you’ll accept?"

"I don't think... Al, I don't think I can. I don't think I love you like that and I'm sorry-"

"That's alright, Davey. It is what it is."

...

Albert kept a smile on his face for two more hours while Davey hung around in his apartment awkwardly, too tired to walk himself home yet.

Albert, who was majorly stressed out, would have offered to walk him home. But, he didn't want to seem rude, and he didn't want to face the outside world with its flashing lights and loud noises and people bumping into him every five seconds.

As soon as Davey left, though, everything came crashing down.

Albert was stupid. Stupid to have done what he did. Stupid to have hoped that it would work out.

Mostly, though, he was stupid for falling in love with his best friend.

It wasn't fair that Davey was that effortlessly pretty and glamorous and nice and smart and perfect. Albert never even stood a chance.

So who could blame him, really, for crying? He had wrecked his perfectly routine life and possibly his relationship with his best friend.

He called Race in a desperate attempt to feel better, but it didn’t help much because then he just missed Race too. Why couldn’t Race be in the United States? Why did he have to be so far away?

Albert closed his eyes as he sat down on the couch, trying to make the tears go away. Crying made his head hurt.

But, despite that, Albert cried himself to sleep that night.

[jelzorz]

You don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for you to say that (i do—and it’s been about 20 months lmao)

Continuation of ia67? Please? 🥺

166.

do you know how far I had to scroll for this @captainjamba??? Rest of the series linked here for convenience

The Katolis Symphonic Orchestra has a Christmas concert every year. Usually it's all the classic stuff: arrangements of Silent Night, and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas that are easily recognisable and never fail, and it's, y'know, fun and all but the classics are getting a bit too classic, even for Callum. Opeli is a bit like that as a conductor: straight laced and maybe a bit too serious, which is why this year's set list is such a shock when it's sent out to him that afternoon.

It's Wednesday, and Barius' cafe is packed given it's the awkward time of two PM. It's been, what, almost two years since that Valentine's Day he came here with Rayla after rehearsal, and busy rehearsal schedules aside, it's been a pretty good two years. Rayla disappears in the early mornings for rehearsals at the studio, and Callum isn't home until nine on some nights because so many of his own rehearsals are after work (the KSO is great, but it doesn't quite manage all the bills), but they've made it work, and Callum would rather work around the weird hours than not be with her at all.

This life suits them. He hopes it will for a while yet.

The bell at the cafe door rings, and Callum looks up and grins when he spots Rayla in the doorway brushing snow off her coat. He stands as she edges her way through the crowd towards him. "Hey," he greets brightly, leaning over the table for a kiss. "How was your day?"

Rayla grimaces. "Eh."

"That bad?"

She pauses. The way her brow furrows over her eyes says it all.

Callum frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I—" Rayla presses her lips together and takes a breath. "If I had to move, would you move with me?"

There's a pause. A long pause. Callum studies her over the menu on the fake-marble tabletop. "Would you want me to move with you?"

"I—" Rayla sighs and fiddles with a napkin. "I couldn't ask you to," she says quietly. "Things are going so well with the KSO, and you're sharing first chair with Claudia now, and things are good here, so I wouldn't—couldn't ask you to leave all of that behind for me, but..." She blinks like she wants to cry. "The director of Spire Ballet called me today. They've got an opening for a principal, and they want—they want me to come and audition."

"What?" Callum's lips twitch upwards. "Rayla that's amazing!"

"But I'd have to leave—"

"And I'd go with you," says Callum firmly. "No question about it. No doubt in my mind. I'd go with you if you wanted it."

"But—the KSO," says Rayla. "All your friends and family, your brother, how could I ask you to—"

"You aren't asking me," says Callum. "They don't need me. They've got Claudia. And you—" He reaches for her hands across the table and presses her knuckles against his lips. "I'd be a shit violinist without my muse."

That draws a laugh out of her, and Callum grins, pleased he managed it. "Callum..."

"I'd go with you," he says again. "Always. Wherever you went—as long as you want me along."

Another pause. Rayla blinks and lets herself smile a little more genuinely. "Really?"

"Really."

Rayla swallows and grips his hand tighter. "It's just an audition for now. I just..."

"You don't have to explain," he says. "I can see how much you want this. You deserve it. And if we have to move, we will. Okay?"

"Okay." Rayla grins at him at last, the first hints of excitement lighting her eyes. Callum's heart warms at the sight of it, which only strengthens his resolve. "Sorry," she adds. "I didn't mean to ambush you like that. It's... a bit of a shake-up, y'know?"

"Oh I know," chuckles Callum. "KSO's getting one too. Look at our setlist." He slides his phone over to her to let her see, and Rayla barks out a laugh.

"Sleigh Ride?" She squawks. "The ridiculous one with the horsey-trumpet at the end? That Sleigh Ride? That's not Opeli's style, what's gotten into her?"

"I dunno," says Callum with a laugh. "Maybe it's just a good time for change."

Rayla grins and slides his phone back. "Maybe so."

[myreia]

wip whenever

I missed Wednesday, oh well. 🫠

tagged by the lovely @thevikingwoman, @lilas and @hylfystt, thank you! 💖 tagging @tsunael, @roguelioness, @coldshrugs, @impossible-rat-babies, @birues, @fourteenthz, @scionshtola, @galadae @gefiltefished

This is a bit from Chapter 5 of the thing I am currently working on. Context - Aur's Echo pings weird shit when she travels between the First and the Source., sometimes she gets to spy on her family and see what they're up to.

Beyond the door, an elite Garlean scientist occupies her usual chair, her rank denoted by her white coat and the insignia on her shoulder. Taller than most of her kind, with sharp features and dark hair woven into a single long plait. She coldly reviews the files before her with a no-nonsense flick of one hand, the other tapping impatiently on the desk’s surface. Her ruby eyes glint in the artificial light.

It is unusual for an Elezen to make it this far in the ranks. And yet here she is, Elgara lux Theorzen, dispatched to this distant provincial base after a spectacular failure that was a decade in the making. She is fortunate she retained as much as she did. That her husband did not also take the fall. Her family is, for the most part, intact.

As much as it can be.

“I see you received the notice.”

The voice speaks from the shadows.

Elgara purses her lips, her brows drawing together in the slightest of frowns. It is as much as she will give him. “There’s no need to lurk, Kal,” she says, turning over another file. “Sit and speak with me properly.”

A snort. A man slinks out of the shadows half-hunched, his arms folded across his chest. He leans against the far wall, one knee bent with his foot pressed against it, and observes her with narrowed red eyes. He’s grown thin, ragged, in the time since she saw him last. His cheeks are sunken, his jaw worn, still covered with the scratchy stubble that certainly goes against Imperial code. The tips of his half-Elezen ears poke through tangled black hair, its length another strike against the code.

A hollow zealousness flares in his eyes—intense, wanting, and hungry.

“Been an age since you’ve called me Kal, Elgara,” Kallias says.

She shrugs and turns a file over. “Been an age since you’ve called me ‘mother,’” she replies and moves a finger down the page. With a dismissive tsk of her tongue, she grabs a pen and signs the bottom with precise, effective movements. “You don’t hear me complaining about that.”

“Not a complaint, mother. Just an observation. Besides, I would never dare to insult a colleague by addressing her with such informal abandon. I have manners.”

“Colleague is it now?”

“We are no longer in the same chain of command and we are of an equivalent rank. Colleague is appropriate, don’t you think?”

His voice rasps, deep and thick, and he casually raises a hand to pick at his nails. The hilts of his twin daggers glinting in the artificial light. There’s a threat here, buried just beneath the surface. His is the demeanour of a trained killer, a weapon in human form—he could kill her in a instant if he so desire.

But if Elgara notices, she gives no sign.

“True,” she says, not a crack in her composure. Perhaps she has already welcomed death at his hand. Perhaps she is counting on it. “Which stands the reason—why are you here? You no longer have clearance to enter.”

His brows draw together, a sneer forming on his lips. Chuckling darkly, he pushes off the wall and strolls across the observation deck, idly stretching his arms above his head. His movements may appear casual, but they only further put his weapons on display. He wants her to see. He wants her to know.

“This particular piece of intelligence is sensitive,” he says. “I thought it best to limit those who know during this time of upheaval. Even the legatuses, if necessary. But a single menial officer, hidden away in the least influential province? Her ears are safe.”

Elgara presses the tip of her pen to paper, red ink blooming across the crisp white page.

“She’s returned. From whatever hole she thought to hide herself in these past few months.”

[azikarue]

Life in Color : Chapter 30 : The Future

Max/Mariam | FFN Rating: T | FFN Link ❖ “Thinkin’ about Blondie?”

The disgust was obvious in Dunga’s voice even before Mariam turned around and saw the scowl on his face. He looked grumpier than usual, which might have had something to do with the fact that he’d been conscripted to help her and Max move. Never mind that she’d been making sure he got the heaviest boxes all day, waiting to see how long it took him to notice.

Mariam smirked. “We’re married now – I can think about him all I want,” she said, drawing out her words as Dunga’s face screwed up even more.

“Gross,” he spat vehemently. “Keep your sick fantasies to yourself, Mariam.”

“Oh, relax.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all worked up.”

“You should probably take your own advice, Sis.” Joseph appeared and gently set his box down in the pile of things that were meant for the kitchen. He brushed the dust off of his hands and said, “Think too hard about Max and you might start on those grandkids Mom and Dad want sooner than you bargained for.”

“For your information,” Mariam said, doing her level best to ignore Joseph’s shit-eating grin and the fact that it got wider when he realized he’d annoyed her, “I was thinking about what project to start first around here.” Joseph’s eyes sparkled in a way that meant trouble, so she shut him down before the words could even leave his mouth. “A nursery isn’t on the list!” she said and smacked him upside the head for good measure.

They’d been plenty busy lately without adding starting a family into the mix.

Mariam and Max had begun looking for a house in Japan over a year ago, right in the midst of planning their wedding. Mariam immediately regretted not letting Max jump the gun and start as soon as he graduated and moved back with his dad; house-hunting was way more difficult than she’d anticipated. She had no idea what she wanted, aside from privacy and something that wasn’t smack-dab in the middle of the city, and being asked dozens of questions every day by their realtor only added to the overwhelm she felt from making decisions about the wedding.

They toured a dozen properties and, with each one, there was something not quite right. When they came to see this house, which she suspected was a last-ditch effort by their realtor to find anything halfway suitable, something clicked.

It was far from perfect. Having stood vacant for some years, the garden was overgrown and the house itself had fallen into disrepair. The doors stuck, the appliances needed upgrading, and everything was covered in a thick coating of dust. But it was quiet, it was spacious, and their nearest neighbors were on the other side of a thicket of trees.

It felt like home.

“You should start with the back porch,” Dunga crowed, interrupting her thoughts. “I almost fell through the boards back there earlier.”

“Are you offering to help?” Max asked. He was smiling – hadn’t stopped since they’d gotten the keys – and carrying one half of a mattress through the door. Ozuma came through shortly after with the other side and they leaned it carefully against the wall. “I can get the supplies delivered any time.”

“With Dunga’s help, we won’t even need to bother unpacking the tools.” Mariam glanced around the one room they’d scrubbed completely spotless. It was filling up quick with a bunch of stuff they wouldn’t be able to unpack until they’d finished thoroughly cleaning the rest of the house. “He can pound the nails in with his thick skull.”

“Hey!”

“The truck’s almost empty out there,” Ozuma interrupted, nodding towards the front door. “You want us to go back to your dad’s for another load after this or stay and help clean?”

Max gave the room the same once over that Mariam had moments before. They didn’t have much furniture, and what they did have was temporary, taken from Max’s room at his dad’s or donated by friends and family. The rest of their boxes were from Max’s apartment in New York or Mariam’s bedroom in her village, but there wasn’t a lot that had been worth dragging from country to country. One more trip would easily move all their worldly possessions from Taro’s basement to their new home and then they could return the truck they’d rented.

On the other hand, their kitchen appliances were set to be delivered the next day. It was earlier than expected, which would have been a good thing if they didn’t still need to clean years worth of dust out of the spaces the old ones had left behind. And everywhere else in the house.

“While all of you stand around thinking about it, I’m gonna go get another box,” Dunga grumbled, lumbering off to do just that.

“Make it two while you’re at it,” Mariam called after him. “We didn’t invite you for your company.”

Dunga looked back just to flip her off and Joseph snickered. Mariam might have gone after Dunga to teach him a lesson if Max hadn’t chosen that moment to get her attention with a hand, gentle and low, on her back.

“You had a good system going yesterday,” he said, referring to the way she’d scrubbed the room they were standing in from top to bottom while he’d gone around the house unsticking the windows so they could air the place out. “We can tackle the kitchen together if Joseph and Ozuma don’t mind finishing up out here with Dunga?” He phrased it like a question and directed it their way.

Ozuma simply nodded, a hint of a smirk on his face as he followed Dunga.

Joseph wasn’t so quiet. “Make sure you leave the door open,” he teased, “or you really will need to add a nursery to the list.” Then he was gone, too, before Mariam could reprimand him or Max’s blush could fully bloom.

While her teammates unloaded the truck, Mariam began the task of cleaning the kitchen with her husband. She sat on his shoulders to clear the ceiling of cobwebs. Then they started on the cabinets, climbing onto the counter tops and wiping away all the dust and a couple of dead spiders. They scrubbed the walls, counters, sink, and lower cabinets, dumping multiple buckets of filthy water in between.

At some point during the process, Joseph popped his head in and let them know they were taking the truck to Taro’s for the rest of their stuff. He made sure to tell them the mattress better be right where he remembered when he returned. Mariam had thrown a dirty rag at him that stayed on the floor until they pried open the doors to the porch and swept all the fallen dust out for the wind to steal.

By the time the others got back, Mariam was polishing the wooden cabinets until they gleamed and Max was finishing up with the mopping. Mariam was on such a roll with cleaning that she moved on to the dining room next, while the guys unpacked the truck.

She learned that she preferred cleaning to unloading. It felt like she was making real progress as she washed away years’ worth of grime, instead of cluttering up the place. There was something addicting about seeing the true bones of their home revealed and falling more in love with it as she went.

She took a break once, to say goodbye to Ozuma, Dunga, and Joseph when they finished and left, then went right back to cleaning. Max alternated between helping her and sorting their belongings so there would be a path for the delivery the next day.

The sun was setting by the time they finally called it quits for the night.

Mariam was sore and sweaty and starving, but it was worth it to see the entire ground floor spic and span and, thanks to Max, a good chunk of boxes moved to the appropriate rooms. She was wandering between them now, picturing what it would look like with everything unpacked and full and theirs. It felt surreal.

A pair of freckly arms circled her waist from behind, interrupting her daydreams.

Mariam sighed and fell back against Max’s chest, tipping her head onto his shoulder. Her hands came to rest on his arms, tracing the hard line of muscle there as he squeezed her tight.

Max nuzzled his nose behind her ear and sighed, making goosebumps spread over Mariam’s skin.

“Max,” she drawled, squeezing his forearms, “that tickles. And I’m all sweaty.” She added the last bit as an afterthought, but she was suddenly aware of how the short hairs at her nape were clinging to her.

The only answer he gave her was a series of kisses over the side of her face, lips dancing up over her jaw and cheek. She could tell the eternal smile was back on his face when his mouth lingered on her temple. Even when she couldn’t see it, it was contagious.

“I’ll take more of that after I shower off,” she promised through her smile.

Max chuckled. It reverberated through both of their bodies and Mariam felt even more at home.

“Dinner first,” he said, disentangling himself from her and taking her by the hand. “Come on.” He gave her a tug. “And watch the floorboards.”

His warning made more sense when he led her out onto the porch and around to the back of the house. She could see the corner that Dunga had mentioned earlier where the wood was sagging and discolored. On the other side of the porch, Max had spread out a blanket and laid out a couple of cushions. He’d dragged one of their boxes outside to act as a table, too – there were two to-go containers on top of it that she recognized as coming from Kenny’s parent’s place.

“They’re probably cold by now,” he said apologetically. He sat down on the blanket and Mariam collapsed next to him with a grateful sigh. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until now. “My plan was to reheat them, until I realized we didn’t actually have a way to do that.”

He looked so sheepish that Mariam couldn’t help but laugh and lean over to give him a solid kiss on the cheek.

“I’m hungry enough to eat anything,” she said, stomach growling as she reached for her noodles.

“It was a long day.”

She felt Max’s eyes on her as she took her first bite. The noodles were lukewarm, but right now she would swear she’d never tasted anything so delicious in her life. He must have been satisfied with her reaction because he had a dreamy look on his face when she glanced back over. She raised an eyebrow in question.

“But it was a good day.”

Mariam suddenly felt warm all over. “It was,” she agreed, setting her bowl down.

Night was falling. Out in their jungle of a backyard, fireflies were blinking in mesmerizing succession. There were so many of them that the trees looked like they were sparkling with stars. The real stars were glittering in the sliver of sky above the treeline. There weren’t as many of them as back home, but there were so many more than in New York where the sky was an inky black canvas no matter what.

The surreal feeling was back. Mariam’s heart felt twice its normal size and had become unexpectedly lodged in her throat.

Max’s hand closed around hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “I keep feeling like this is a dream,” he confessed in a whisper.

Mariam watched the fireflies flicker in his eyes and that was exactly what the sky at home looked like. Safety and adventure – security and possibilities – all at once. She hadn’t always understood that the two could go hand in hand, but seeing the scene in Max’s eyes, it all made sense. She let out a shaky breath, dinner all but forgotten.

“I don’t really know how to explain it.” Max stroked her wedding band with his thumb. The Saint Shield earring in his ear caught the moonlight, mimicking the firefly show. “It just hit me like a ton of bricks and I’m so happy.” She could see the emotion glistening in his eyes and it made the knot in her throat tighten. “I love you and this home – this future – we’re building together. So much, Mariam.”

“You’re such a sap,” she teased, voice sounding a little watery even to her own ears. Then she leaned in and kissed him hard and slow.

She swore she could taste the sweetness of his words on his tongue as he kissed her back, drawing her onto his half of the blanket, and into his lap, like he’d been waiting to do it all day. One of his hands settled on her hip, thumb nestling into the crease of her thigh like a puzzle piece slotting into place. The other came to rest on her waist, comfortable and exciting all at once.

Mariam cradled his face and pulled back for a breath. “But me too,” she mumbled against his lips, seeking out his hazy blue eyes. “To all of it.”

When he sighed in response, Mariam kissed him again.

Whatever had hit Max, it was safe to say it’d hit her too.

[purplemoonabove]

Me: *crashes through the wall* IM ON IT! @ineffablefool

Art-inspired Fanfic - No. 6

Next up - @lookitsstevie (3)

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That stubborn snake.

That stubborn, incompetent, mindless serpent of a demon.

The mind continued to jolt down titles for the red-headed snake, while at the same time kept the hands in position as one held a book for guidance and the other held a chalk to follow. Blue marked the ground as a child’s preparation to play hopscotch with friends. The last thing Aziraphale needed was to play right now, whether mundane or not.

He wasn’t playing around at all. Anyone who understood what he was drawing, and wouldn’t freak out afterwards, would have. Anathema would. She would question why, as it would do a job he wouldn’t normally do. But it’d be done, and she didn’t have the power to stop the angelic Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden.

Once the final mark was completed, Aziraphale stood up, ignoring the aches in his knees for long use of bending. The sidewalk right in front of the entrance of his bookshop was now bearing a sign of rejection, of disapproval, of a line being crossed for the final time – as he would tell himself. Glared eyes stared in cherub anger, his cheeks almost puffing as the completion laid below near his feet. A five-pointed star with large circles and dots in between the spaces was miracled to make the human eye unaware of it, lessening bizarre accusations in spotting a demonic circle right in front of his welcoming door.

No humans will see it. But a being will

And one Aziraphale made certain to make his point.

“Hmph!”

Clapping his hands to wipe away the lingering dust of the chalk, he turned towards the entrance with nose up high. This will show Crowley he meant what he know.

…

Business went as usual, and luckily not one customer asked for purchases on his first editions. It was a slow day by the time the afternoon arrived, and the anger he bore over the demon had long faded thirty minutes after the circle.

In fact, a discomfort rested in his stomach like a bad chocolate bonbon. More than once, he glanced over to the entrance, surprising himself more than once of a stranger’s arrival as the door opened. Every arrival diminished the tiny hope in his heart, one that longed for the presence of the red-headed, human-formed snake that would miraculously avoid the trap and walk in the shop like he always did, greeting him the way he would and sometimes with a treat for a welcoming gift.

Lifting up a set of five books to be placed away did nothing to take away his disappointment on the truth.

How he missed that wily serpent.

“Oh, dear boy,” he muttered to himself. Not like it would bother anyone; he was the only one present in the shop this afternoon. Lifting a book to shelf away, his mind lingered on their earlier fight.

Was there really a reason for Aziraphale to be so upset? There must be; he was sure to be right about it. But what was there to be right on, especially knowing Crowley would have a point? It was no excuse. Aziraphale had to make his point across, but Crowley was just as equally stubborn. Absolute opposites they were, and not just of where they resided in immortal life. But all the reason why their friendship lasted centuries than anyone, not even Her, could imagine.

“Oh Crowley.” His voice held of misery. His inner glow diminished into close darkness. “I miss you, my friend… Wait a minute.”

His mind went distracted for a moment, realizing something. Weren’t there two books there before? An area between one set of books and a single thick one was vacant, Aziraphale remembering two books in stack and resting on the back covers. I’m certain I picked them up before. But where… Oh! Right! I left them outside before doing the mark. Silly me.

Tutting to himself, the remaining books he held were placed on a side table before heading towards the door, dusting off any wrinkles of his coat while heading.

When he opened the door, he was frozen in shock.

The activity of cars passing by and people’s shoes tapping on the sidewalks nearby was oblivious. So were the books at the side corner of the two marble steps. Aziraphale’s mind was completely blank on mending the books inside, or in trying to bring back his anger. The view before him was as shocking as seeing the serpent on church grounds during the world war.

Along with an open box of chocolate bonbons, a few out on the ground.

Crowley didn’t move. He stayed where he was, trapped in the circle as the blue from the chalk was now red. Not in match to the fiery red of his hair, but a red to be liked in Hell if they asserted to colors more down there. But it was a definite red to indicate the capture was done — Aziraphale had done it. The demon was caught and was to stay put, away from entering his own grounds.

It would have made the archangels proud.

And that increased the discomfort in his stomach.

Eyebrows furrowed in sadness. “Crowley…”

The demon’s head, tucked inside his arms that also held the legs close to his body, lifted up slowly, placing his chin on top of them. The glasses shielded away his eyes, as usual,… but not from the sun that show a glistening at his cheek.

Tears.

“Hey, angel.”

The hoarse audio of his lowed voice had Aziraphale’s feet moving. The left foot rubbed away part of the circle, part of the dots and stars until it reverted back to blue.

Crowley barely had time to realized he was freed before the angel, not caring (for now) how the chalk was to stain his clothes, and brought the demon into a hug, beige sleeves wrapping around his neck. It took a while, the thin-as-a-snake body freezing, until black sleeves went around the waist. A pointed nose nuzzled kindly at his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Crowley muttered a moment later.

“No, dear boy, I am sorry.” Aziraphale then pulled back, but kept his arms in place. Crowley did the same. “I shouldn’t have been so dramatic about it. You were right, I… was wrong.”

“Not always,” Crowley assured. “Could have messed something up myself.”

“But never enough to have a day without you. My dearest friend.”

A small smile formed on the demon. “Sure I didn’t tempt you into missing me?”

Aziraphale scoffed with his own smile in place. “Sure I didn’t bless you in wanting my presence around?”

Crowley chuckled before the two separated.

“And, oh!” Aziraphale pouted at the bonbons – then remembered the stain on his pants. “Oh, dear!”

“You did this, so I can’t be held responsible for it,” Crowley teased, standing up and offering a hand to the pouting angel, who took it. “However…”

Snap!

The mark was gone. The chalk stains were gone off his and Crowley’s pants. And the chocolate box was sealed once more, the bonbons now replaced with fresh and dirt-free ones.

“I can be half responsible on why you did it,” he suggested.

Aziraphale smiled once more. Picking up the books to shift in one arm, and opening the door for the two, he nodded. “As can I. After you.”

Aziraphale was sure part of his glow was coming out, glowing bright again but not enough to harm as the demon gladly reentered the establishment once again.

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What they were fighting about is all up to you 😆

fast and efficient demon trap

[musicloverxoxo7]

Pirate Captain – featuring Jin

Pirate!Jin   x   fem!reader

Summary: You meet captain Seokjin by coincidence and have to flee with him. On his ship, something blossoms between you. How long can you resist?

Themes/warnings: AU, smut with plot (smut in last half), unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, spanking (mild), bit of fluff, pirate brother Jungkook

Wordcount: ca. 3.6k

 

Disclaimer: 18+, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

I do not own BTS. They merely inspire me. None of this is related to their persons in real life.

 

“I’ll be back in 2 hours”, you say to your mother before leaving the house. It’s market day and your mother has written an entire list. As every Wednesday.

With a basket and a bag, you walk along the street that leads into town. It’s a warm day of late spring and you look forward to taking a dip in the ocean later today with some friends. Or perhaps your little sister.

“Hi, Ms. Lim. Nice day, isn’t it”, you ask your neighbor as you pass her.

“Beautiful. Is your mother home?”

“Yes. If you pop in straight away, you might catch her before her and my sister go fetch wood from the forest.”

“Thanks, dear. I hope they still have everything you need at the market.”

It’s true. You’re a bit later than usual today. But somehow you had a feeling earlier that you shouldn’t hurry today and enjoy every second.

Finally, you make it to the market square. Dozens of people bustle from stand to stand. The vendors try to attract more customers by advertising their products. You go to a vegetable stand first.

“The usual”, the man there asks.

“That and two extra gloves of garlic. My sister has started enjoying the taste as well.”

The man packs everything for you. Once you’ve paid, you walk on to a stand that sells fabrics. This vendor only visits your town once a month and your mother is in dear need of a new shirt. She’s great at sewing.

You run your fingers over a few of the blue cotton fabrics. One has darker blue flowers on it, and you know your mother will adore it.

“Oh, sorry.”

A man bumps into you and tries to steady you after the impact.

“No worries.”

He has gorgeous brown eyes, like the milk chocolate your father sometimes brings home from his trips.

You take a step back, out of his arms. Though you have to admit his body felt nice against yours.

“You can steal it, but there’s nothing in there.”

Of course, he doesn’t have the wallet in his hand anymore. It must have long since disappeared into his coat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The wallet is a decoy. You really think I’d fall for the “I’m just saving the lady from falling over” charade?”

He looks you hard in the eyes for a few moments, then takes out the decoy wallet from an inside pocket of his coat. He opens it. As you’d said it’s empty, except for a slip of paper.

“You’re good.”

He hands you the wallet. You put it back into your bag.

“How do you know?”

You just shrug your shoulders. Let him interpret into that what he wants. No need for him to know that your mother used to run in a pretty rough crowd and taught you lots of things.

He smiles. It draws your attention to his lips. They are full and look very soft.

“So, uhm”, he starts, then breaks off, looking over your shoulder. “Damn.”

He pushes you behind him and draws a sword you hadn’t noticed was there before. This is turning into a much wilder morning than you’d bargained for.

The smell of smoke hits your nostrils. Someone is screaming. Someone else is laughing. It’s a crazy laugh that makes goosebumps erupt all over your arms.

“Go home. Take your family and leave. Go!”

You turn around. You know your way around the town like the back of your hand. But there are two men with torches and swords coming your way from that direction.

“Ah, Seokjin. Man, it’s been a long time.”

You can feel the man’s back stiffen against yours. That must be his name. You’re royally screwed now.

“Yeah, few months.”

“Tell me, how much did you get for the ruby necklace that you stole from under my nose?”

If he reacts to the statement, you can’t tell. He doesn’t say a word.

“Who’s that little thing hiding behind your back? Your newest toy?”

“Just an innocent bystander whose pocket I happened to pick.”

“No, man. Don’t buy it. I think my men and I will bring you and the little missus onto our ship. Let’s see how we deal with thieves.”

“Follow me to your right. On the count of three”, you hiss at Seokjin across your shoulder.

You grab a few bales of cloth and throw them in the direction of the men coming towards you. One hits one square in the chest.

“Three. Now.”

You grab the blue bale and make a run for it. The market square has emptied completely. You dash through it and off into a side street. There are shouts and the sound of feet on cobblestone.

You turn off into a small side street. Then another. And another. The number of footsteps behind you reduces to one pair quickly. Still, you keep running for a while. You’re out of town by the time you stop behind the hedge of a small house.

Seokjin, breathing heavily, stops beside you.

“Good grace, you’re fast. You just outran pirates.”

“Well, they hardly have time to practice running out at sea.”

Seokjin wheezes, clutching his side.

You straighten up and look at him.

“Who are you and why have they been following you?”

With your hands on your sides and the stern face you must look quite a bit like your mother, but you don’t care.

It takes a few moments until Seokjin has recovered enough.

“I’m Jin. I…”

“You?”

“I hunt treasures.”

“Essentially, you’re a pirate too. I’m not entirely stupid. I listened to what that pirate guy said to you. Not hard to put one and one together and get two.”

Jin looks at you for a long time. You raise an eyebrow.

“They’ve seen you. They’ll come for you now. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Next thing you know a piece of fabric is being held over your mouth and nose. Then everything goes black.

--

Everything seems to be shaking. And your head is pounding. You peel open your eyes and sit up.

You weren’t entirely wrong. Everything is swaying gently. A glance around tells you that you are in a wooden cabin of some sort. A lamp in the corner casts a soft glow on the room. The bed you’re on has plush covers and pillows, covered with the most expensive fabrics you’ve ever seen.

Where the heck has this pirate guy taken you?

A gentle knock on the door startles you back to reality.

“Enter.”

A tall man with short black hair and small, heart-shaped lips walks in. He’s carrying a tray. It smells of chicken. Your stomach suddenly grumbles.

The man walks over to you and puts the tray down on the edge of the bed.

“Please, tug in. You’ve been out nearly ten hours. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Is someone going to come and knock me out with something stinky again after I’ve eaten?”

“Nah, you’re safe now. You can leave the cabin whenever you want. Also, hyung said I’m your contact person if you need new clothing. Something a little better fitting for the sea.”

And suddenly everything clicks into place. You’re on Jin’s ship. He’s the captain of a pirate ship. Does that mean you’re a pirate too now? Would they persecute you for it?

You choke back the tears you suddenly feel. But the man must have seen them.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay to be sad. That’s one of the policies on the ship. We can cry when we’re sad and then not get mad and kill or betray each other. Jin doesn’t like when people do that.”

The way he says it, with a cute pout, makes you laugh and cry at the same time.

“I’m Jungkook by the way. The captain’s younger brother.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

“That’s a pretty name. How about you eat, and I go fetch some fresh clothes for you? I think the world is always a little less terrible when I don’t feel like I’ve just waded through the mud.”

Jungkook gives you another smile before he leaves. He’s very sweet. So much so you decide to trust him somewhat and dig in. The chicken is delicious. And the rice is just the right amount of sticky. There’s even some fruit juice, which you gulp down. Strangely, it makes your head feel okay again.

Once you’re done with the food, you untangle yourself from the blankets and get up. Your dress is indeed quite dirty. Jin must have dragged you through the mud to get you onto the ship.

A few minutes later Jungkook delivers the clothes and leaves again. You put on the pants, blouse and jacket. They fit surprisingly well. Either a woman works on this ship, or they often have female guests. That thought makes you scrunch up your nose. You hope they at least washed the sheets between you and the last female guest.

It takes you a few more minutes to gather the courage to go outside. It’s dark and the stars are out. The moon shines brightly, but the sea around the ship is pitch black. A few lanterns guide the way on the boat.

You find Jungkook and Jin standing at the ship’s wheel. Jungkook has binoculars in his hand.

“No, nobody is following us. You know they never were that fast. Neither their ship, nor, you know…”

Jin’s forehead is wrinkled.

“They won’t catch up with us tonight. That much is certain. Let’s talk about the rest during tomorrow’s meeting.”

You clear your throat.

“Y/n.” Jungkook sounds happy to see you. Much like your younger cousins when you go to play with them.

He looks at Jin, then nods at you and leaves.

Jin’s straight, strong stance changes once Jungkook is out of sight. His face softens, making him look much younger and much less like a scary pirate captain. In fact, like this, he wouldn’t look out of place in the castle in your town.

“Please say all you want. I’d imagine this isn’t the life you imagined. You may stay with us as long as you wish. Or leave the ship when we dock and make a new life for yourself.”

Frankly, you aren’t quite sure what to say.

“I’m not happy about this situation. My family will worry. I don’t want that. I also don’t want them to think I’m dead.”

“You could send them a letter the next time we dock.”

You stand there, looking at Jin for a few minutes and contemplate things. While it is true that you never wanted to end up like the small-town wife, you had also never contemplated living with pirates and leading a life of outlaw.

“You don’t have to decide now. Or tomorrow. You can test out life here for a while first.”

So that’s what you do for the next week. Everyone is friendly to you and there are three other women on board, which makes things a little easier. You pull your weight in work. Jungkook quickly becomes your friend. He’s a bit shy in general but seems to have taken to you quickly.

With Jin, it’s hard to say what he thinks of you. Sometimes you joke with each other, other times he is serious and distant. You can’t deny, though, that you enjoy every time it gets warm, and he unbuttons his shirt.

It’s another week before you dock at the main port of an island. Jungkook brings the letter to your family to the post office, while Jin and a few others do some business. You’ve been advised to stay put for this one. It’s still too close to your hometown.

You were supposed to leave port before nightfall and now it’s long past and Jin and his buddies still aren’t back.

You fall asleep in your cabin while waiting for them.                        

The floorboards creek under careful footsteps. It’s dark. You come to and pull the knife out from under your pillow. The footsteps continue.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“It’s just me, Jin. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Hastily, you push the knife on top of a drawer beside the bed.

There’s the sound of a match being lit and then the lamp in the corner comes to life. Jin looks exceptionally tired.

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“Just this.”

Jin goes to the bookshelf and pulls out a book bound in red leather.

“You keep your books here?”

“Yes. This is my cabin.”

You nearly jump out of the bed, but then decide that would be rude.

“But why did you give it to me? You’re the captain. You should have it. I’ll move tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been bunking with Jungkook. He doesn’t mind. Too much.”

Jin smiles a little.

“So, uhm, is that your comfort book or something?”

“In a way. May I?”

Jin point at the edge of the bed. You nod. He approaches and sits down. With the blankets drawn tightly around you, you crawl closer. Jin opens the book. It turns out it’s a photo album. Lots of black and white pictures.

Jin points at the picture of a beautiful woman with a braid of long, dark hair. Her hand is on the wheel of this ship, you realize.

“My mom. Most feared pirate captain for over 30 years. She passed on two years ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you.”

The next picture is of a small Seokjin, a tiny Jungkook and the beautiful woman. The family resemblance is very obvious with Jin.

“Jungkook doesn’t look like her, but you do.”

“He’s not related to her. We only had the same dad. Jungkook’s mom ran away. And then our dad did. Mom raised both of us.”

“Does he know you are half-brothers?”

“Of course. But he thinks of mom as his mother too.”

“You two were adorable.”

“I guess we were.”

He shows you a lot more pictures. Nearly the entire album. The last picture you remember is of Jungkook and Jin flanking their mother’s sides, both of them substantially taller than her.

You wake up to a heavy arm draped around your rib cage. At first that feels quite nice. Very protected. Until you realize that it must be Jin and you two have fallen asleep.

Unsure what to do, you freeze in place. Jin’s hand glides down to your stomach. He pulls you closer until you are flush against his chest. And his erection pokes you in the ass. You’ve had a boyfriend before, so none of this is new. Still. You’ve never spent an entire night with someone.

But the warmth of Jin’s body feels nice as it envelopes you, so you snuggle closer.

“Mh”, Jin hums into your ear.

You repeat the little wiggly movement, and he sighs. To see if you can get another reaction out of him, you keep moving your ass.

A few more sighs follow. Then, Jin’s hand moves up your torso until he finds your boob and squeezes it. You still don’t stop moving.

“Do you want something from me or are you just teasing me?”

You stop and giggle as silently as possible. Jin twists your nipple. You gasp.

“Talk to me, darling. We can go back to sleep. Or we can…”

You twist around in his arm. Your faces nearly touch.

“Or we can what?”

“Spend the night on more pleasurable things. If you want the specifics: sex, mostly. Though I’d definitely also like to have those nipples in my mouth at some point.”

You move forward until your lips meet. Jin kisses with the perfect balance between gentle and passionate. It feels like being kissed by a prince. Not that you have any experience with that, though.

You unbutton Jin’s shirt and run your hands up and down his torso. Though he is quite lean, the muscles are clearly strong.

His hands are on your butt, squeezing. He breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily.

“Can I… under the nightgown… feel skin.”

“Go ahead.”

You dive in for another kiss. Jin’s hands move under the nightgown. He trails his hands up your naked thighs and to your butt. He seems to take great pleasure from squeezing it. If his dick twitching is an indication.

You untie the front of his pants. Now there’s only his underwear in between. You glide your hand over his length. Jin moans into your mouth.

“Please, darling, can I have one of your nipples in my mouth? If you keep doing that, I’ll cum right away. I haven’t since you came onto this ship.”

“Yeah, sharing a room with your brother must suck in that respect.”

Laughing, you pull the nightgown over your head and toss it aside. As soon as you lay back down, Jin’s lips are on your nipple like those of a starved man. The way he rolls your nipple on his tongue, sucks on it and runs his lips over it has your mind short-circuiting in nearly no time.

“Like that, Jin. Mh, please don’t stop.” You don’t even notice how whiney you sound.

Jin doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you are a writhing mess. Even then he keeps going, holding you tightly.

You cum with your face buried in his hair. It muffles the sounds you make a little. Finally, once your body stops convulsing, Jin moves up to kiss you again.

“You make the cutest noises.”

“No wonder with what you just did.”

Jin chuckles, before kissing your neck. His erection is rubbing against your thigh now. It can’t be missed that he’s big. But frankly, you’ve never been more ready.

“Jin?”

“Mh, darling?”

“I’d really appreciate if I could have you in me now.”

You’re not sure if Jin is coughing or laughing or both.

“You sure know what you want. Phrased very politely, though.”

“Just because you’re a pirate captain doesn’t mean I need to be rude.”

“True. How could I say no to such a nice request. On all fours.”

Jin lets go of you. You untangle from each other, and you get on all fours, sticking your butt up. Jin comes up from behind and runs his hands over your lower back. His finger pads are calloused from things like sword fighting and handling ropes.

He pulls down your underwear and traces his fingers along your slit. It sends electricity through your body.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Can you play with yourself while I push in? It might be easier that way.”

So you play with your clit. You can feel his head touch your entrance. He pushes in very slowly. It feels a bit tight, but not painful. Once in he gives you a bit of time to adjust. You were right in your assumption that he’s big. He fills you very well now.

“I think you can start moving now. Just, slowly, okay?”

“Of course, darling.” His voice sounds strained.

He sets a slow and controlled pace. Slowly, you relax more around him and can give in to all the pleasure. In this position, he rubs against you G-spot in a way that makes you dry sob into your forearm.

“You feel so nice, darling. Good grace.”

Jin slaps your ass. It takes you by surprise. Your head comes up and you arch your back more.

“You like that, huh?”

Jin slaps your other butt cheek. You squeeze around him.

“Fuck, darling. Okay. Enough.”

He withdraws from you. You suddenly feel very empty. You whine.

“Turn around. We aren’t done yet.”

You turn onto you back.

“Are you okay with this position?”

“Definitely.”

Jin pushes back in. You sigh in relief. This is definitely where he’s supposed to be. He lowers himself over you. Like this, you are chest to chest, face to face. It’s a more intimate position, but it doesn’t bother you one bit.

Jin picks back up the slow movements, but they quickly become faster, harsher. It has you moaning into his ear practically non-stop.

Your nails claw at his back, your legs are hooked around his waist.

“My beautiful y/n”, Jin whispers.

His hair is hanging wet into his eyes.

“Jin”, you press out before cumming. As you come down from your high, Jin’s thrusts become sloppier. His hips come to a stuttering halt as he fills you with his warm cum.

His eyes go from glassed over to crystal clear quickly after that. He pulls out and gets towels from the dresser to clean you up.

After that, he lays down next to you. You slowly crawl closer.

“Is it okay… Can I?” You nod at his chest.

“Of course. Come here.”

You snuggle up to him. Jin pulls up the blankets around the both of you. It feels nice and cozy.

“I haven’t even dined with you. That’s not like the male honor code at all.”

“We eat together with Jungkook every evening.”

“Not the same.”

“Still counts for me. But if you insist, we can always still do that.”

“Okay.”

You place a kiss on his neck. He’s so deliciously warm. The lamp in the corner shows that he’s frowning.

“Anything else on your mind?”

“I called you mine, didn’t I?”

“It didn’t bother me. In fact, I thought it was quite a nice touch.”

“You don’t mind being mine?”

“Not in the least. So far, I’ve been enjoying it, actually.”

The frown is replaced by a smile. Jin pulls you closer and kisses your forehead.

“My y/n.”

“Mh, exactly”, you mumble before drifting off into dreamland.

 

© musicloverxoxo7, 2022

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work. Doing so will make you legally liable for stealing intellectual property.

[memoryofapricity]

aquamarine eyes. Viktuuri

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 – 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐫𝐢!!! 𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 – 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐯 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 – 𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

this fic is for the animanga secret santa exchange 2022 ! my giftee was @bl-astoise, hope you enjoy <3

Katsuki Yūri had always loved animals. most of his relatives thought he would grow out if it in his teenage years, but here he was; an animal lover in his twenties.

something else he'd always loved was baking. it was a shared activity that had brought him closer to his mother. the nostalgia from smelling cinnamon in the air, or brushing flour off of his hands took him back to the kitchen of his childhood home in a matter of seconds.

oh, and one more thing he loved was the holiday season. he loved the light hearted spirit that surrounded this time, but he also enjoyed the sense of rush it gave him in a customer service job. that's right, Katsuki Yūri had achieved his dream job. nothing could ever be a more perfect work environment for him than a cat café.

he'd managed to climb the ranks and gain the trust of his superiors. by now he was something of a manager in his little café.

that didn't mean he wouldn't get the normal tasks done himself, though.

he was just sweeping the floors and cleaning the tables during the last open hour, while jazzy Christmas songs played in the background, when he heard the door open.

"welcome! what can I get you?" he said his usual greeting while making his way back to the front.

only as he stood behind the counter he got a good look at the gentleman with a long trench coat and platinum hair. his prim appearance made him look out of place in a more relaxed environment like this one.

"may I have a cappuccino, please?" the customer requested.

"coming right up! would that be all?"

"that's all, thank you."

the platinum haired man gave Yūri a small, polite smile before stepping to the side to wait for his order.

the barista prepared the coffee, but he couldn't erase those light blue eyes from his mind. they looked like a pair of aquamarine gemstones.

Yūri looked at the milk foam sitting at the top of the glass mug, before deciding to draw a heart on this handsome customer's coffee. he took the mug to the cash register and pushed it across the counter carefully.

another small smile formed onto the other man's lips the moment he saw the heart.

"thank you kindly", was all he said after paying for his drink.

Yūri watched him walk across the room to an empty armchair and pull out a small book from the breast pocket of his jacket. the brown eyes were glued to him as he slipped the outside coat off and set it on the armrest carefully.

Yūri could feel his coworker's eyes on himself as he kept admiring the blue plaid vest paired with a simple, white button up.

"Yūri, you're staring", his friend Phichit noted.

"but... just look at him", Yūri sighed out, "he looks so... posh."

he leaned his elbow against the counter and kept his eyes on the stranger whose body language was the most graceful Yūri had ever seen.

Phichit nudged him forward.

"stop drooling and go talk to him!"

Yūri's face flushed and turned around to scold the younger man: "I am not drooling! I just admire people like him."

along with a "sure, sure", he was pushed out of hiding behind the counter and he stood awkwardly in the open. he took a deep breath and started walking towards the customer.

it was only then he noticed one of the cats curled up on the elegant man's lap.

"oh, she seems to really like you."

the light blue eyes looked up at him.

"why do you sound so surprised?" the customer questioned as his head tilted to the side slightly.

"she's usually not one to care about customers. she always takes a while to warm up to the staff too", the black haired one explained.

a chuckle was heard before the stranger spoke up again: "I must be special, then."

the next day Yūri couldn't get the strange customer out of his mind. the way he moved, the way he spoke...

"thank you for the coffee", he'd said, glancing at the nametag on the apron, "Yuuuuri~."

the way he'd dragged out the u in Yūri, made the barista's heart flutter.

"stop daydreaming", the youngest employee, another Yuri, - though everyone called him Yurio - said as he smacked the back of Yūri's head.

"ow", the older of the two mumbled out while rubbing the spot Yurio had hit.

"you're usually not like this. I'd expect this from Phichit, but not you. I thought you were sensible."

"hey!" was heard from the back.

Yūri chuckled.

"well, yes, this is the first time this has happened to me", he admitted.

Phichit chose to stop eavesdropping and join the conversation: "but you had a girlfriend in high school, didn't you?"

Yūri felt guilt flushing through him.

"yes, I did, but I don't think I was ever in love with her."

"because you're gay", Yurio retorted.

Phichit looked at him with his jaw dropped open, as if he just revealed a character death from a show they were watching.

"what? did he seriously not know?"

Yūri could only replay those words in his head. gay? now that someone said it out loud, it made a lot of sense. maybe he was gay. and just maybe, that gorgeous customer he knew nothing about was his gay awakening.

but, it wasn't like Yūri would ever see him again, unless he decided to visit the café again himself.

the next time he saw those aquamarine eyes was on a late night walk back home after closing the coffeeshop.

"Makkachin!" someone yelled, right before a strange force took Yūri down to the ground.

"I am so sorry, he doesn't usually do things like this", the stranger apologized.

Yūri opened his eyes to see the faces of a large poodle and that platinum haired customer from earlier the same week hanging over him.

"I must be special, then", he laughed out as the not-so-unfamiliar stranger helped him back up to his feet.

"yes, I suppose the tables have turned", the taller man said with a gentle smile.

before letting go of Yūri's hand, he breathed out a name: "Victor."

"Victor?"

"my name. I'm Victor."

"oh!" Yūri exclaimed as realization rolled over him, "nice to formally meet you, Victor."

"please, no need to be so polite, my dog did just knock you over."

they both chuckled softly before Victor started speaking again: "have you eaten yet?"

"ah, no, I'm going to eat once I get home."

"could I treat you to some nikuman?" Victor offered, "it's the least I can do."

a certain warm excitement filled Yūri's chest as he nodded with a smile.

"I'd like that."

the pair walked together, with their steaming meat buns in hand. Yūri could feel the awkwardness in the silence hanging between them, and he had to break it.

"so, do you usually use your dog to get closer to people like this?"

bad joke... not funny.

"only when they're adorable", Victor slipped out smoothly.

oh. oh. wasn't that a flirt?

and a good one at that.

Yūri could feel the heat rush to his cheeks as he bit into the bun again, trying to think of how he could possibly respond to that.

"I saw you looking at me, Yuuuri."

great, add in the embarrassment of getting caught staring at a customer, and what you have is Yūri turning into a mess.

after no replies from Yūri, Victor kept talking: "I wanted to see you again, but I didn't want to be your customer."

they both stopped walking and Victor turned Yūri's head towards himself.

Yūri felt his knees go weak as the sincere aquamarine eyes gazed into his soul.

"I must be lucky to run into you like this."

"m-me too", Yūri finally stammered out.

the gentle smile on Victor's face grew slightly wider.

"I know this might all come out of the blue, but would you want to go on a date with me?"

Yūri blinked once, twice, even thrice. a date? he must've been dreaming this.

"seriously?"

a snort escaped the other man.

"yes, I'm serious."

"uh, yes, I'd love to..."

Victor let go of Yūri and took a step further away from him.

"how about dinner after your shift on Saturday?"

Yūri only nodded enthusiastically. his voice was lost somewhere inside him due to the shock. he could only watch as Victor waved his goodbye and started walking away with his dog.

"he asked you out!?" Phichit's exclamation filled the kitchen the next morning as they were rolling out dough.

"yes... he's taking me out tomorrow night", Yūri said quietly.

"what? where? when?"

the bombarding of questions made it seem like Phichit was more excited for the upcoming date than Yūri was himself.

"he's meeting me here after closing, and we'll go to dinner."

"ooh, how classy.... a dinner date. wonder where that'll end up~..."

the tone in Phichit's voice got the nerves in Yūri to wake up.

this would be his first proper date. how was he supposed to act? was he supposed to get something for his date? what would they even talk about?

maybe he should read a short guide on dating...

Phichit's voice cut through his thoughts: "you look like you're spiraling, Yūri... you okay?"

"...yes! I'm totally fine. I can go on a date with a crazy handsome guy who's clearly out of my league! no problem!"

the nervous laughter escaping his lips didn't help in convincing his friend. the pair of dark grey eyes only gave him a pitying look, as if to say he was thinking too deeply into this.

"you'll be fine. there's no need to think about it too hard, just act as you would normally."

the – without lying – almost dreaded Saturday evening drew close, and Yūri couldn't contain the butterflies in his stomach when the platinum haired gentleman stepped inside the café. his lips curled into a soft smile as his aquamarine eyes locked onto the man standing behind the counter.

Yūri felt like his knees might give out at any moment. somehow Victor's gaze on him was fierce and tender at the same time.

"Yuuuri", he spoke, and his voice was velvet against Yūri's ears, "are you ready to go?"

the black haired man could only nod as his heart was beating out of his chest. would Victor reach for his hand?

he didn't.

Yūri could feel disappointment settle into his chest as they walked side by side, with a gap in between.

Yūri felt as if he needed to close said gap. he couldn't stand feeling like he was too far to reach Victor even with the tip of his finger.

suddenly the other man stopped walking and their arms bumped into each other.

"we're here", Victor breathed out a small cloud of fog into the cold night air, "the best sushi in town."

the pair walked inside and were wrapped in the surprisingly warm ambience.

Victor led Yūri into a small table in a quiet corner, with a single candle and rose in the middle.

"I made us a reservation beforehand", he mentioned as if it was the most obvious thing to be done.

he even pulled out the other chair and motioned for Yūri to sit down.

the flutter returned to his heart as he took a seat and watched the graceful man sit down on the other side of the table. Yūri watched the flicker of candlelight dance on the flawless face as the blue eyes scanned through the menu.

the dinner date went on smoothly. conversation flowed naturally and the experience as a whole felt breezy to Yūri. he hadn't felt this exhilarated in possibly years – Victor really made him feel like there was a whole new world to be discovered.

to top the night off, Victor had offered to walk Yūri back to his own apartment.

"tonight was really lovely", the black haired man said quietly.

the taller one gazed into his eyes with a soft smile as they stood on the doorstep of the apartment building.

"yes, I had a wonderful time" the velvety voice sounded out as Yūri felt a gentle squeeze on his hands, "do you think I could take you out on another date?"

an exclamation was heard: "yes, absolutely!"

and a satisfied chuckle followed.

"get your skates ready for next weekend."

with that, Victor said goodbye, but his hands lingered on Yūri's for a moment longer before pulling away.

the barista stood still at the door. he could feel the cold air surround the skin on his hands again, without the warmth from Victor.

the days went by in a flash – Yūri tried to convince himself – when in reality this had felt like the longest week of his life. but like promised, on Friday afternoon, Victor took Yūri out to an ice skating rink.

"let me help you with those", he said before kneeling down and tying Yūri's skates.

"oh, thank you", Yūri mumbled while hiding his red cheeks into his wooly scarf, "it's been a while since I last went ice skating."

"that's okay. I'll help you", Victor assured, giving a gentle look to the other man while offering his hand.

Yūri took the hand, and he was lead to the ice. his knees felt weak, but the hands holding him up were like a strong force supporting him.

little by little, Yūri did get comfortable on the slippery surface. and by the time Victor finally let him go, he was able to skate smoothly without falling over.

"great job, Yuuuri, look at you go!" Victor encouraged him with the signature gentle smile.

and when Yūri looked at the smile, he could feel his heart melting away into a puddle, filling his whole chest with warmth.

it was a completely new feeling to Yūri. everytime he was with Victor, he could feel the excitement bubbling up inside.

that was until a vital piece of information was revealed.

maybe Yūri shouldn't have asked what Victor did for a living. he wasn't prepared to hear that Victor worked for the exact law firm, which had been tormenting the café and its owner for years. for some reason they'd been set on finding the slightest reason to get the café shut down.

was Victor just trying to get to close to him in hopes of making a new discovery? or obtaining some delicate information?

Yūri's head started brewing a storm of doubts and disbelief. he couldn't understand how good of an actor Victor had been.

and it seemed like the platinum haired man noticed something going on.

"Yuuuri, what's wrong?"

"I- I think I... I need to go", Yūri stammered out before stumbling off the ice.

he kicked the skates off as fast as he could, hoping Victor wouldn't be able to run after him.

but just as he was leaving, Victor grabbed his wrist.

"Yūri, please, talk to me. what happened back there? is my occupation a problem?"

Yūri took a few shaky breaths before replying: "don't pretend like you don't know... how could you just be using me? playing with my feelings? I really liked you, but knowing this was all fake breaks my heart."

he yanked his hand free and ran away, tears almost freezing on his cheeks as they escaped his eyes.

there was a pit in his chest, where there used to be warmth.

after that, Yūri didn't see Victor for another week. with each passing day, he did want to see the platinum haired man more.

it made him feel conflicted.

why would he want to see someone who was only messing around with him?

had he already lost all sense to being charmed by the gentleman?

yes, he had, Phichit had told him.

he'd also said Yūri needed something called closure. if things were to be left like this, it would be unsatisfying and Yūri would keep wondering about the what ifs even years later.

his friend was probably right, considering out of the two he had more experience with romance.

and as Christmas eve drew close, Yūri was as absorbed into his work as ever. the only thing he allowed himself to worry about were the cats of the café.

and as he was working at the counter, the bell tinged.

once he looked up to see the customer, he saw those painfully familiar aquamarine eyes. his heart almost stopped beating for a moment.

Victor stood at the doorstep, a bouquet of amaryllis, a couple poinsettias, cymbidium orchids, and to top it off; red roses.

and as if Phichit had changed the song of his own accord, one of the most well known American Christmas songs started playing.

the tall man took hefty steps, crossing the wooden plank floor to hand the bouquet to the barista.

"all I want for Christmas is you", Mariah Carey sang through the speakers.

"Yūri, will you please let me explain myself to you?"

after what felt like ages, but was only a few seconds in reality, Yūri gave Victor a nod. he couldn't help but feel curious about what the man had to say for himself.

and once they had stepped outside together, Victor began explaining.

he elaborated how he'd had no idea the firm he was employed by was fighting against this specific café, how he had been kept completely in the dark about everything related to it until he asked around about it.

"I wanted to get to the bottom of it, so I could understand your side, and I realize what it must have looked like to you now", Victor said carefully, "but I promise I've been serious this whole time."

Victor reached out to grab Yūri's hand, lifting his other one to the black haired man's cheek. the hands were cold, but still they managed to spread warmth onto Yūri's skin.

he had to admit he had been missing Victor's touch. maybe now he didn't need to long for it anymore.

"Yuuuri, will you give me another chance?" Victor spoke softly while leaning closer.

"yes, Victor, I'm sorry for judging you so fast..."

he really did feel guilty. Victor had been innocent the whole time, but Yūri had let his doubts get the best of him.

the aquamarine eyes were staring into his soul – or at least that's what it felt like – and Yūri felt the most vulnerable he ever had before.

that's when Victor said it: "I'm not going to wait for rain for me to kiss you."

instinctively Yūri leaned closer, he gazed back at Victor, before closing his eyes. he felt the other man holding the side of his face as their lips crashed into each other. their dance started slowly and delicately, but turned into what felt more needy than anything else.

once they pulled apart, they only kept staring at each other with shy smiles.

finally, Yūri broke the silence by asking: "why would you go to such lengths for me?"

"I really like you, if that wasn't clear already, and I want you in my life..."

Victor squeezed Yūri's hands.

"whenever you're ready for it, I'd like to make this official."

the barista was shocked. this person, who was clearly out of his league, wanted to date him?

"well, um", he stammered, "I do want that, but are you sure..?"

"yes, positive", Victor affirmed as he pulled Yūri into an embrace.

and as he was wrapped in the most comfortable warmth he'd ever felt, he sighed happily and whispered: "why me?"

"because you're special."

another thing he'd come to love, was going to be Victor.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3290

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧: 24th of December, 2022

[milazka]

not the greatest feeling ever | 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝.

the less i know the better masterlist

main masterlist

summary: fuck it, i’m not doing a summary, i’m so bad at it. oh! there’s smut btw.

warnings: smut, cursing, mentions of blood, underrage drinking

last thought: i’m proud of this one, took me a lot of time to write, but i think it was worth it! enjoy your reading! love, milz.

─── ° • ❀ ───

The gentle breeze twirls her golden locks in all directions. She hums the lyrics of You never can tell, having watched Pulp Fiction for the hundredth time last night. Her irises are fixed to the slightly damp roadside covered with fresh fallen leaves from this morning rainstorm. The last rays of sunlight caress her baby-like skin as they disappear into the horizon, painting the sky in a mixture of orange and rose. 

“C’mon grandpa, you’re slow as hell!” she teases Marcus, turning her head back to stick her tongue out at him. Standing on his skateboard, he sends her the finger, scraping the pavement with his over-used black vans to gain speed and eventually catch up with her. 

“That’s how the turtle won the race, dumbass,” he gently nudges her shoulder with his hand as he rides his board besides her. She gives a sharp turn of the handlebars to move her tires out of the sand and back on the pavement, giving him a death glare. 

“I almost fell in the ditch, shithead!” he simply laughs, his head falling backward. His dark colored hairs, normally slicked back, are ruffled by the warm September wind, giving him a laid back look that fits him perfectly. She adores hearing his laugh; it's one of the purest and most delightful sounds. It was only recently that she heard him laugh again, having not heard it for months after the day they lost the third musketeer of their trio. It was one of the hardest moments of their lives, but sharing this kind of experience brought them closer than ever. Charlie was there for him when he hit rock bottom, stroking his back while he cried on the shower floor, freezing water running down their damped bodies. She was also by his side the first time he went to therapy, soothingly squeezing his hand before he entered the office.

“If someone had to fall in a ditch, it would be me.”

“You know that Max and I made bet on how long it would take you to fall in a ditch?” she replies, checking his reaction at the corner of her cerulean eyes. He grins. 

“How much did you bet?” he curiously asks, one eyebrow arched. 

“Fifty bucks,” his eyes almost snap out of their sockets. He stops, stepping off his board.

“Fifty bucks?! That’s insulting, thought I was worth more than that,” he shouts as she makes a u-turn, retracing her steps, stopping in front of him.

“I’ll give you half of it if you wait ‘till June,” Charlie sarcastically says to him, elbows leaning on the handlebars of her bicycle. He caught a glimpse of light in her gaze; a twinkle of amusement he always finds in the corners of her softly crinkled eyes when she smiles truthfully.

“Deal,” he winks at her, drawing a small laugh from her slightly parted lips. He picks up Charlie's polaroid from the basket at the front of her bike, signaling for her to ride so he can immortalize the moment for her. Marcus knows she keeps those famous polaroids in an old converse box as a source of happiness; they're memories of moments she doesn't want to forget. 

He takes the little camera to his eyes, snapping a picture when Charlie turns her head to the side to look at him, smiling like there is no tomorrow. As the picture is slowly developing, he hears a squeal of tires and a squeal of surprise from the distance. 

“Fuck Charlie!” he shouts, running towards her as she sits, holding firmly her right forearm. His heart tightens at the sight of her painful face, her traits are torn by pain and he can see tears gathering at the corner of her squinted blue eyes. Marcus hates to see her in pain; he knows she's not the type to complain about anything so when he sees her azure eyes filling with water, he knows it's serious. 

“You got a few scratches,” he whispers, running his eyes over her legs and arms. “We’ll go to your house and clean you up, okay?” she nods, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Marcus tucks his skateboard under his arm, grabbing the handlebars and seat of Charlie's bike simultaneously.

─── ° • ❀ ───

“Hold still,” his hazel eyes are focused on the mid-depth cut on her forearm. His bushy eyebrows furrowed, giving him a severe, almost cold sober look. She takes a big gulp of the rich whiskey she borrowed from her father's secret stash. 

“Oh fucking hell!” she swears between her clenched teeth when the rubbing alcohol makes contact with the exposed flesh of her forearm. “That’s not the greatest feeling ever,” she whimpers, her forehead resting on his shoulder covered by his green olive shirt. 

“I know, angel, I know,” he runs his hand through her blonde hair, gently stroking her scalp in a soothing way. She keeps her head resting against his shoulder, holding back the tears that threaten to run down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m usually the one taking care of you,” he knows it refers as much to all the times he fell off his skateboard as it does to when he hit rock bottom when their friend passed away. Charlie isn't used to being taken care of; she has always been able to look after herself without anyone's help.

Crying is for the weak.

She swallows her tears, putting her mask back on with a slight smile.

“Your new neighbor saw me fall,” she changes the subject, pausing to take another gulp directly from the whisky bottle. “Great way to make a first impression,” a light laugh escapes from her lips, but she halts when she notices his gaze turning away almost discreetly. “What’s wrong?” 

Over the years, she has learned to read him like the palm of her hand; she knows he looks away to the left when he is hiding something from her and that he scrapes the back of his neck when he is embarrassed.

“I-I had sex with her,” he blurts out, avoiding her gaze while he still applies pressure on the bandage covering the wound on her forearm. 

“Holy shit,” her eyes widened, not expecting this kind of disclosure. “Wait, what about Padma?” 

“You know she is not my girlfriend, Charlz,” he sighs, finally sustaining her non-judgmental azure irises. It' s one of the things he likes about her; she never judges him and even if she did, he wouldn't know since she hides it so well. 

“Was it good?” she does not insist about Padma, knowing perfectly well that she is the first one to know. He doesn't answer, looking thoughtful as if a million thoughts are running through his head. He steals the bottle of alcohol from her, gulping down a few ounces of the throat-burning liquid.

“What aren’t you telling me, Marcus?” 

He shuts his eyes, exhaling loudly.

“I don’t know if I was good… God, I don’t even know if she came!” her heart tightens; he looks distraught and she knows that this is a big deal to him, after all, he just lost his virginity. He breathes heavily, his jaw as tightly clenched as his fists.

“Show me.” 

“What?!” he opens one eye, eyebrows furrowed as if he was questioning if she was being serious.

“Show me what you did, I’ll tell you if it’s good,” 

“You’re drunk, Charlz…I don-” he stops as soon as her silver rings coated hands grip the hem of his olive shirt, grazing the soft skin of his lower abdomen with her fingertips. Sitting on her knees, she brings her head up to his neck, pressing her lips against the skin. The feeling of her wet lips on his burning skin sends a shiver running through his spine. 

“I’m sober enough to remember everything and give you my consent,” she whispers to his ear and he almost moans when she slightly nibbles his lobe. Her hands slips to the back of his neck, forcing him to hover over her as she lies on her back.

Both his hands are lingering on the buckle of her belt, struggling to undo it. She clutches his chin with one hand, plunging her reassuring gaze into his. He looks nervous, his hands trembling slightly when he takes off her jeans. She presses her lips to his Adam's apple, feeling him tense up at first, but relax as she sensuously slides her tongue up to his sculpted jaw.

“A-are you good with two figers?” he nervously asks, his right hand resting on the edge of her panties. 

“Yes,” he hesitantly slips his hand into her panties, parting her legs with his other hand before sliding his index and middle fingers up and down her folds.  She can see him blush when an almost quiet moan escapes her lips at the feeling of his fingers inside her core. He pumps them in and out slowly, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

“Try to curl them in a ‘come here’ movement,” she demonstrates with her own fingers. He nods and mimics her actions, making her whimper under him. 

“That feels good,” she encourages him. “What did you do next?” she softly asks, rubbing her thumb against his cheek to sooth him. 

“Hum, well, we-um, you know, did it,” he says, blushing like a little child who just got his first kiss with the popular girl. 

“You didn’t go down on her?” she asks, looking quite shocked. He seemed clueless. “I mean, you didn’t use your mouth?” 

“Uh no, should I have?” 

“You boys really know nothing about female pleasure,” she sights. “Try watching lesbian porn next time, you will learn A LOT more,” He almost chokes, not expecting to hear this come out of his best friend's lips while his fingers are still inside her. They've always been comfortable with each other, but not to the point of talking about the kind of porn they listen to. The idea of her best friend watching porn and getting herself off almost made him cum in his pants.

“You do know what a cunniligus is, right?” 

“God, Charlz, I’m not five years old! Yes, I know what it is!” he exclaims, his ego lightly bruised by her question. 

“Well, show me then, playboy,” she challenges him, a cocky smile slipping on her lips. the alcohol going slightly to her head.

He pulls her to the edge of the mattress, kneeling at the foot of the bed between her legs. His lips kiss the skin on the inside of her thighs, sucking it until he sees a dark red mark appear. He gets rid of her underwear in the blink of an eye  before placing her legs over his shoulders. He darts his tongue out of his mouth, licking a long strip between her folds without giving her the chance to acknowledge what was going on. He stops once his tongue rests on the bundle of nerves, licking around it in a circular motion.

“Fuck,” she moans. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You really think I've never watched lesbian porn?” he teases her, biting the inside of her thigh, making her body jolt. He dives back his head to her core, sucking her clit into his mouth.

At leats he know where the clit is.

"Oh my god Marcus," she moans, squirming against his grip. He places his arm over her lower abdomen, pinning her body against the mattress. She can feel his two fingers sliding back into her core, the sudden feeling causing her hips to buck up against his face.  

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hun?” he praises her, fingers curling inside her just like she taught him. She could barely feel herself, letting out a series of high-pitched moans as Marcus tongue was working on her bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, her head pressed down against the matress. Her fingers tangle in his dark hair, tucking at the roots as she let out a cry, the euphoric feeling taking over her body for a moment. Marcus looks up to see her eyes shut tightly, her legs shaking on his shoulders. He can feel her core pulsating around his fingers as she comes down from her high.

He took a mental picture of her, engraving this moment in his memory forever.

─── ° • ❀ ───

taglist; @cognacdelights @ellegotohell @janedartist

[messwriting]

Written for the Whorehouse Compilation [RAW DOG 1080p] (Try Not To CUM) Collab:  Masterlist.

Open wide: the Doctor is IN

Shirabu Keijiro x Female Reader 

Doctor Shirabu gives you a very special treatment on your first appointment.

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Note: I’m sorry for being this late to the party. The cursed porn search we all have looked at least once (some... lots of times hehehe). THANKS TO @dymphnasprose​ for the little porn search bar i love them so much ;-; <3 My (very) late contribution to the Whorehouse Server CUMpilation. Thanks for letting me participate Miki! Doctor Shirabu is ready to see you now. 

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT.  CONSENSUAL NON-CONSENT.  DOCTOR/PATIENT. MEDICAL PLAY. INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHES. WRONG GYNECOLOGICAL EXAM. Breast exam but not really. Corruption Kink.  MEDICAL KINK. Use of medical equipment in inappropriate ways. ANAL PLAY. Established relationship clarified at the end: role-play. Poorly researched medical stuff. Overuse of Good Girl. 

Word count: ~4.4k 

You’re such a cute little thing.

Sitting on top of the big, pristine examination table, waiting for him while wearing an easy summer dress, square heels dangling from one side to the other as your hands fumble with your own fingers on your lap, eyes flying to him immediately as he enters the close space - big, bright eyes shining in the dull white hospital room, framed by beautiful eyelashes and soft makeup. Your tempting lips are almost deployed of lipstick from as much your teeth have punished the plush flesh.

“Hello.” Shirabu greets you with an easy smile, one that he doesn’t really use despite the little effort it takes.

“Oh, hi Doctor.” There’s an anxious smile on your lips and Shirabu feels a tingle start on his fingertips, climb his arm, spread down his back to burn in his guts. You’re so pretty when you’re nervous.

“How are we today? You can come and sit by the chair first.” Shirabu moves calmly, closing the door behind him; carefully turning the key without bringing attention. He’s still testing the waters but he can gather that you’re a trusting one, waiting to hear from him what exactly you need to do and then do it. 

“Ahhh, um… I’m good, just came for my annual checkup.” You say while taking a seat on the chairs, only risking one look up at his face, then lowering those eyes onto his coat, clearly reading his name. Your expression seems surprised… but pleased. Is it because he’s young or because he’s attractive? Shirabu can’t decide, but there’s a clear smile in his lips as he looks you over, then circles his way to sit behind the table.

“Is this your first time here? If not, when was your last appointment?” 

“Actually,” Your eyes meet his when your head angles up and you scurry them down as if you’re embarrassed. Your lips are once again suffering under your teeth before you free them and speak, “It’s my first. Like, ever.”

“Oh,” Shirabu let’s slip with a breath. There’s too much joy in that little sigh and in his tone when he asks, “Really?”

Your head goes up and down first, fingers fumbling, then you seem to remember that you need to speak with him, “Yes.”

“Do you have a medical file here already? Any complaints I should know?” Shirabu covers the usual bases first, calmly checking his agenda and time, how much he can have with you and how he can extend it.

“Hm… No complaints, except…” You fall silent for a moment and Shirabu can feel the burning in your face all the way through the table. 

“It’s okay.” He’s quick to tranquilize you, “I’m your Doctor, you can tell me anything.”

“I think my birth-control is… uh, how can I say this? Making me… a little numb?” You tell him in a low voice, a hint of worry slipping through as you try to send him a little embarrassed smile as if you’re worried he may feel bad about it. 

Shirabu is quick to smile back, so pleased at how you relax and melt back into yourself at the sight of it. He can’t help but think you’re such a good girl. “You didn’t answer the first question, though.”

 “It’s my first time in the clinic as well. A friend of mine recommended it to me.” You give a precious little giggle as if your nervousness scrambles your train of thought and Shirabu thinks it’s endearing, especially the fact that you’re a pretty little thing who doesn’t know best and you’ve ended right on his lap. 

Well, he plans to make the most of it.

“Hmm, understood. So, Miss… Is it Miss?” Shirabu sends you a charming smile, one he knows it’s good, and your eyes seem to flash with something at the sight of it, your throat bobbing right before your lips split in a little smile.

“Yes,” you giggle his way with a little roll of your eyes, as if it’s obvious and he makes a surprised face along with another dazzling smile. Shirabu has smiled more in the last ten minutes than n his whole week and he’s face will soon protest.

“Really? You’re so pretty, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had already planted a ring on your finger.” God knows he would, and as fast as he could, too. 

You bite at your lips to avoid a smile planting itself in your face, eyes fleeing from his as your hands fist your dress and you left a little breathy laugh out. As if he’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay Miss, so since it’s your first time doing this check-up, I’ll need you to do a few things for me, okay?”

“Sure, Doctor.” God, that shouldn’t mess him up as it does, the hairs on his arm standing on edge at the delicious sound of it in your voice.

“I’ll need you to go to that bathroom right there, strip all your clothes including underwear and change into the paper gown that’s right on top of a cabinet there. Leave the opening to the front and then come back to sit at that examination table right there. Can you do this for me?”

“Of course, Doctor.” Warmth spreads from his body, rolls thick with his blood around his limbs and starts concentrating south. Jesus, you’ll be his demise like this.

“Good. Now go.”

Once you’re out of sight, Shirabu makes arrangements. And when you come back, clad in nothing but a paper-thin gown that leaves little to the imagination, he buttons his coat as long as it goes. Just to be sure.

His eyes thread carefully over your barely concealed body, enthralled by how your breathing comes in quick puffs of air, goosebumps rising on your skin under the cold temperature of the room. Pressing against the warmth of his palm at the slight touch of his fingers on your shoulder. 

“You can sit at the examination table. We’ll start with a breast exam before you lie down, okay?” Shirabu knows his voice is sweeter than usual; carefully built in a trusty tone, words rolling off his mouth a little deeper, a little low - all just so he can assure he has your attention. 

 “I’ll start with a breast exam and then you can lie down.” He explains his steps one by one, so when he opens the front of the barely existing paper gown, all you do is take a sharp breath and slowly let the air out. So nice. Such a good girl for him.

He carefully brings his fingers to glide over the outskirts of your breasts, pressing on your flesh with steady, slow to warm digits. Shirabu feels as you fidget slowly when he circles the flesh once, slow and deliberate with the pressure he applies. “I’m checking for any unusual lumps around the tissue,” Shirabu tells that so close to your face he can feel the warm wave of air your gasp lets out at his words, and he pretends the little taste does nothing for him despite the way his blood boils in his veins. 

He does the same circular motion a second time, then a third time in reverse, and all but grin in his self-satisfied way when he notices the shy nub stand to attention. Your brows are furrowed even from such little stimulation, throat bobbing as your mouth sucks cold puffs of breaths inside your lungs. 

Shirabu’s digits slide up your collarbone, then press together in a quick motion from all the way up to under your breast, stealing just the slight touch over your erected nipple. 

“Please put your hand over my shoulder,” Shirabu says carefully, detached; and is delighted when you push a little dazed “what” out your swollen lips. 

He can’t help but smirk; poor little lamb is lost to the wolf around her - and his claws are already in. 

“Like this, honey.” His hand takes yours in his, open your palm with his fingers to press it on his shoulder, a wide-angle that gives him better access and provides for a comfortable examination. 

“Hm, okay!” You strangle it out, cute and bashful and Shirabu feels his slacks getting tighter.

“Good,” he breathes close to your face and restarts his movements, digits massaging up and down your chest, right side first as his fingertips get together to start to draw patterns from outside until the center in a repeated motion that ends with just a barely-there, butterfly touch over your nipples as he does a careful glide around the circle.

Your shoulders tremble and curve inwards as your abdomen seizes, hints of your pleasure that Shirabu can pinpoint even without his medical expertise. It makes his heart soars; such a little innocent thing that you can’t even speak up about it, just quietly suffering from the need growing inside you until you’ll burst.

His hand stops under your breast to weigh it, palm covering the extension of flesh as his thumb slides in a fond motion to the sides. 

“Now I’ll do the left,” Shirabu announces and feels as you tense, eyes looking up at him in a lost haze even as you blink and nod. There’s a small storm brewing inside your eyes clouding them over, as if you’re struggling to catch up to his fingers, trying to fully wrap around his motions and still falling victim of your innocence, agreeable and placid, trained and directed to respect authority. 

Dr. Shirabu knows best, you’re probably thinking as you nod once again, hands grabbing at anything they can to hide their trembling. Then he starts his ministrations by rolling your nipple with his thumb, drawing a gasp from you.

 “Oh, sorry,” Shirabu says with fake sorrow before he starts the circling massage around your breasts once again. 

A humming agreement is all you answer him, lips pressed together as if you’re embarrassed by the noise you’ve left. Oh, poor little thing. 

He can’t wait to ruin you.

Shirabu wonders if you can notice how he changes the motions of his fingers this time around, pressing closer to the center and around the halo of your breast as he kneads the delicious mound with his digits. 

Your knees are practically pressed together and you’re struggling to hold your shoulders up in a straight line and Shirabu is absolutely delighted at causing your downfall with such little, fickle things as the point of his fingers.

He waits for the moment where your teeth close sharply over your swollen lips, holding both breath and noise inside, and angles both his hands to press under your breasts, upwards motion that is a good excuse for groping - not that you’d know. Your spine curves as your head turn down in waves of burning hot embarrassment at your own behavior and Shirabu simply has to move before he does something bad.

Well, worst.

 “All done,” he tells you with a small curve on his lips as he steps back. You wait for him to turn before letting a breath out, but even that sounds sharp in the silence of the room. Shirabu hides his hands from your eyes in his pockets, fingers twitching in the absence of your smooth skin under his digits.

“Now we’ll pass to the examination.” The little tremble in your frame is enough to add twisting fire into his veins, temperature rising even when the air conditioning is running low. Shirabu does his best in making his voice sound unaffected and neutral, walking over to the stirrups and adjacent dressing table where he keeps his medical gloves.

“You can lie down and put your legs over the supports.” 

“Yes, Doctor.”

You obey like a good girl, the simple motion already flashing him the precious skin underneath, legs spread wide open and immobilized. Anxious eyes look for his in reassurance, then seem to think better of it as they fall down to watch your open legs. The view making you squirm once again in the padded table. 

So precious.

And trusting.

Your hands are clasped over your belly in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting, eyes eagerly fleeting between Shirabu’s frame and the ceiling. He sends a smile your way as he pulls the chair close to the stirrups and your disconcert is practically charming. 

When Shirabu walks over to sit between your open legs, his cock strains against his slacks, immoral coil twisted hard at the small peak of heavenly skin, of glistening folds swollen by the blood flow.

If only he could lick it.

There’s a tremble to your form that he can’t pinpoint, but the wide-open arch of your legs immobile over the stirrups clear are involved in; that, and the pulsating arousal in your center, if the way you’re throbbing open for him is any indication. 

Shirabu had considered going slow, threading carefully before taking what he wants, but the fortitude of his mind is being challenged by the view alone: You, laying on the table, legs spread and skin glowing. It’s wicked. Shirabu wishes so much to taste, but he’s snapping his gloves on instead. 

 “Are you sexually active?” He makes small talk, chair sounding loud in the silent room as he finally takes his place on it.

“I’m, uh, not for a while.”

“Any unprotected intercourse?”

“Hm... N-no.” Huh. Shirabu doubts he was able to hide the motion in his lips signaling that the little slip in your tone isn’t lost. “Are you certain? We may need to do a test, just to be sure.”

Your eyes fleet to him, shining in the artificial illumination, flustered expression as you down them for your clasped hands after. It’s rather endearing to watch as your anxious behavior spike, the way you’re unable to twist or move, pinned there by physical barrier more than just his eyes.

“It’s possible.” You answer him, meek, and he tries not to smile. “But I’ve been on the pill.”

“Ok, then. You mentioned numbness. Did you mean during intercourse or just in general?”

“Sometimes general, but normally when I’m… touching… myself.”

Oh well. What a nice little improvement. His eyes bore on yours between the valley of your legs, the air surrounding you both turning thicker. 

“Understood. I’m going to be touching you now.”

You nod, and then gasp when his hands actually touch the inside of your open thighs, a light caress to satiate the need to know how soft and plush you feel, and it’s exactly as much as you look. You suck in a breath slowly, and Shirabu lets his fingers slide up to your hot center.

“I’ll start with the pelvic exam. If you feel any pain or discomfort, just say so.” You nod and he starts slowly, two gloved fingers carefully threading over the swollen labia with acute precision, circling motions as he caresses the underside of your most sensitive place and downwards, rounds the dripping wet entrance, and sliding back up, fingers opening in a “v” motion, a small twirl around the engorged nub above it all. “I’m making an exterior exam, any numbness?”

You nod your negative. Eyes barely holding themselves open, teeth sunk on your lips. “Tell me if you either don’t feel anything or feel anything hurting.”

“Okay,” it’s mostly a whine, breath leaving your mouth as soon as you open it. He descends a third finger over your sex, up and down circling motions that rip a groan from your throat.

“Does anything hurt?” Shirabu’s voice is collected, calm, a stark contrast to the throbbing length in his pants. “Numb?”

“I...don’t think so?” You’re trembling, voice breathless as the stirrups squeaking under the strain of your thighs and Shirabu’s other hand comes up, palm planting over your pelvis, feeling the soft skin and then pressing his palm on it.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a problem with sensibility.” He tries to reassure you as his fingers thread to your entrance, indicator slowly tracing the tight circle pulsating in front of his eyes. You’re dripping wet, soaking his gloves and all he can think is what a delicious little patient.

“I’ll be entering you now, okay? There’s no need for the speculum, so I’m performing a touch exam.” 

“Oh-kay, doctor,” comes your little gruff voice, putty under his hands and opening up nicely for his fingers when he presses inside. You’re tight, wonderfully so, clinging to his gloved fingers. Shirabu angles them up and deep, your blistering warmth spreading from his digits to his arm and then his whole body. 

He’ll have to find a way to “test” you there, as well.  He doesn’t retreat his fingers, but he aims the motions of them inside and above, looking for the sensitive place that’s bound to make you-

“Ah!” 

There it is. Shirabu chuckles and rounds the place with his digits as your knees buckle inside then angling out, spreading wide. He retreats his fingers, rolling them with a little scissoring, then plunges deeper inside as an excuse of trying to reach your cervix. If only he could use his cock- that’d be way easier.

“And now?” Shirabu asks, wicked. “Any pain? Numbness?”

“N-uhnn-” You try to speak but choke on a soft moan, your hands flying to your face as you swallow and answer him back in a trembling tone, “No.”

“Anything else?” It’s teasing, clearly, but you don’t seem to notice it, dazed eyes searching for him as you wet your mouth before speaking.

“It feels… weird.”

“Really? ” Shirabu spreads his fingers a bit, rolls them to feel around your walls. “Why’s that?”

“I- I don’t know. It’s… good.”

“Hmmm… That’s interesting.” His gloved thumb descends over your labia, rolls over your clitoris with strict precision, fingers angling inside to meticulously hit that special place once again. The table squeaks under the strength of your buckling, open cunt pulsating around his fingers in plain view for his appreciative eyes. “You seem to be a bit oversensitive, not numb.”

“Is that- a problem?” You say between breaths as Shirabu’s thumb rolls over your clit. He’s astonished you don’t question any of his debatable moves, only looking at him with dazed, soft eyes. 

“Depends. Do you always leak like this? It can be a condition.” Shirabu presses his palm over your pelvic bone, angle his fingers meticulously and swirl your clitoris with his thumb in firm precision. You moan and immediately recoil in embarrassment, mouth agape in your own surprise. Shirabu scissors his fingers in a rotating motion, inside and out for barely a few seconds and your spine arches off the table, mouth falling in a wide “o” as you tremble on his examination table.

Delicious.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answer in a breath.

Shirabu palms his length to release the pressure, cock straining at the soft expression of rapture on your eyes. “Everything seems good inside; But maybe you’re sensitive. I’ll keep that in mind for the next exams.”

“Is it… done?”

“Almost.” Shirabu smiles, but it's a be-ready-for-trouble one. “All we need is the ultrasound for the internal exam.”

“I thought you had just-”

“This one was the touch one, the next one is done with the ultrasound equipment. It will be inserted inside and then I’ll be able to take a good look at your uterus health.”

“Oh, okay.”

You seem focused on catching your breath as your stretched hole keeps winking at him, as if begging for more. Unfortunately, Shirabu has to move on. He pulls the equipment table close, moves the screen to the side and at a fairly inaccessible angle for your eyes. The transducer reminds a wand, long, shaped anatomically thin with a slightly larger head, barely two-fingers girth. 

“Have you ever orgasmed before? Sensitive dysfunction can make it harder for women to achieve sexual gratification.”

“I… actually don’t know…”

Shirabu slides a condom on it, drops a generous amount of lube over it and then turns to you with a smile. Your legs twitch and your walls clench and he has a strike of brilliance right there as he eyes the pretty furl of muscle under your pleading pussy.

You yelp as he brings a lubed finger to draw rings over your rear, embarrassed eyes quickly searching for his.

“Doctor?!”

“Oh, sorry. The equipment goes in anally. Didn’t I mention that?”

“No?!” You groan, surprised, a soft breath escaping your lips.

“Sorry. I’m just preparing you, passing something to help it.” Shirabu explains, as a liar, and slowly work you open with his indicator pressing inside - carefully, slowly, with clinical precision until his whole knuckle is inside and your breathing is labored, open pussy throbbing for something he can’t give it to you just yet. How precious. “I’m inserting it now. Please tell me if it hurts.”

Shirabu angles the device on the lubed hole and watches, enthralled, as your ass swallows it’s wider head whole with just the first push, the rest of the body following easily as the tight ring presses the overflowing lube out. Fuck. Shirabu’s cock is weeping uncontrollably inside his slacks and he carefully brings a hand to help with the tightness of his pants, opening it enough to allow his thick length to escape free, but still covered by his lab coat.

Then Shirabu presses the device deeper, the angle sharp. He brings the receptor over your belly, presses way to closer to the apex of your sex. “Does it hurts?”

“No,” you breathe out, dazed.

“Does it feel good?”

“...Yes,” you sigh.

“Hmmm, interesting.” Shirabu retreats it, pretending to angle it somewhere else. He moves the equipment a bit more and your knees tremble as your pussy starts to drip on the floor. Jesus, that’s fucking hot. He leaves the receptor over your skin to fly his hand to his cock, slowly pumping it to relieve the throbbing ache. You’re way too lost in your own pleasure to notice his, and that only makes him more feral.

“You can feel something entering you now, but it’s just another equipment,” Shirabu says as he abandons his aching cock to slide two fingers inside your pleading hole, instead. He’s not even sure you understood his warning. Cute. 

“Doctor,” you breathe, almost panicked and Shirabu rolls his thumb over your clit to hear you yelp, your ass tight around the transductor as he scissors his fingers on your wide-open cunt.

“Yes?” 

“I feel... “ You sound so wrecked and lost, a shiver wandering down Shirabu’s spine as his throat bobs. Your pussy throbs around his fingers, begging for something it can’t even pinpoint. Poor thing.

“Pain?” 

“No? Something… else.” Such a cute breathless voice, chest heaving with rabbit-fast beats that Shirabu almost can feel on his fingers deep inside your soaking walls. 

“Pleasure?” He offers, fighting the need to smile at how your confused expression, brows furrowed as you try to think of another word but come ultimately short.

“I…” You start but bite your lips to hold the noise at how he aims at your special spot. Then blink twice, still losing the fight against the thick pleasure fog in your mind. “I guess?”

“Wow.” You’re so honest. Shirabu’s surprise is fairly genuine. He hopes his tone sounds more understanding than completely hungry. “Well… It’s not unusual for patients to feel arousal by exams considering their invasive nature. It’s okay, don’t panic.”

“But,” You start, tense and writhing, but Shirabu stands up, the equipment in your ass changing angle but his eyes are finding yours in the distance. 

“It’s okay,” Shirabu repeats and you listen, hazed eyes focused entirely on him. “Take a deep breath.” 

You obey so well, mouth opening as you breathe deep, chest filling even when Shirabu slowly edges the equipment out of your tight asshole. The fingers inside your pussy don’t stop, though, and he brings his other hand, now free, to aid him in wrecking you. “Now surrender to it. Let it wash over you…” 

“I…” You whine and tense, but then his two hands are gliding over every erogenous zone on your labia with acute expertise, and you let go, bones essentially melting under his ministrations; letting out a soft, obedient, won over, “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He tells you and rotates his fingers in and out, keeping you nice, wet and wide. You’re close. Shirabu can feel it in how you’re swelling around him. “You’re an amazing patient, Miss. Just do as I say and I’m telling you to cum.” That does it, as your head angles back, hands holding yourself and the table as you take a deep breath.

“Yes, doctor,” You whisper and moan, surrendering to the intense orgasm that pulses suddenly through you and quivers around his fingers. It’s beautiful to watch you come undone, legs trembling sharply as they’re held wide open, pussy fluttering in a wave of wetness that joins the puddle on the ground, mouth open as your tongue slides past it, eyes rolling inside your skull and probably seeing white. 

Shirabu never feels tired of it, finally angling himself to bend over your frame, mouth looking for yours quickly as he breaks character.

“Keijiro,” you sigh, pleasure-drunk and Shirabu licks over your open lips, bites on your jaw, sucks the skin to leave his marks. 

“Yes, love.” He answers against your pulse point and you lets out a satisfied sigh by his ear.

“That was amazing.”

“You think so?” Shirabu rolls his hips against your bare, soaked wet pussy, and his free cock rolls deliciously between the lubricated folds. “I’m just starting, though, Miss. I think you’ll need a more thorough exam, though. With special equipment too.” He brings his hand to angle his cock on your entrance, eyes locked on yours as you blink and smile, blissed out and pleading. Shirabu presses himself inside and you throw your head back in bliss, hands planting on his shoulders with sharp nails aiming for his skin. “Such a good patient I have. Open wide, love.” 

You arch your head back to look up at him, mouth falling open on command, for Shirabu to do as he pleases. You, wide open on his table, for him to do as he pleases. He’s your husband after all and you’ve learned from a long time that what pleases Dr. Shirabu Kenjiro the most is picking you apart piece by piece, white bliss searing your every nerve-end as you fall and shatter for him, drowning under his thumb as he holds you down waves of pleasure, dragging you like the tide - strong and unyielding until it hurts to even breathe. 

The mere thought of having more makes your lips fall open in a moan, “yes, Doctor.” 

Because you love everything about that.