#or 'thought i saw you down on my street - i lost my step and spilled my coffee - fantasize you talking to me - while you're onstage

[lunaicfantastic]

i hope that the grip the band boys go to jupiter currently has on me gets communicated to them thru the ether bc goddamn their 2.5 songs out are all ive been listening to for the past week

[nemesyaaa]

american pie // frat!rafe cameron x milf!reader

summary ; you moved on with your son into a new house in front of tanneyhill after a divorce and ward offered you the help of rafe to unpack your affairs. and maybe young boys were not that bad...at least, that cocky frat boy at your service....

warnings ; so age gap. smut. +18. young boy x older woman trope. mentions of mommy's whore and milkers. p in v. forbbiden attraction. facesitting. slight of 69. mentions of belly bulge. pervertion &depravation. dirty secret. messy porn with a little plot. twisted behavior and sick attitude. momma's boy. minors DNI. be careful with the warnings.

author's note ; i thought the idea of milf!reader and frat!rafe was hot. this is not an american pie au. but enjoy 🫡‼️

“are you the kid that ward sent to help me unpack my things ?”

you had only just moved into the house across the street from tanneyhill,and now you had a new life waiting for you, it was essential for you to get along well with your neighbors. when Ward had suggested that his son come help you, you hadn't said no,especially since yours was completely lazy and already locked himself in his room to play video games. the divorce wasn’t easy for him to deal with and you respected that.

you were tired from your long journey here, so when you saw Rafe coming, you smiled directly at him. you were especially happy to see a guy with big muscles at your service for a task that you could have easily done yourself. but seeing a helpful young guy doing it for him made it even better.

he had crossed the street with his cap on backwards and his smirk kissing his teeth with his hands in the pockets.

you weren't supposed to look at him but he was charming. you waved hello to him, with a glossy and warm smile. definitely not an innocent one. you were too old to play the shy girl. and you were not into playing that game anymore.

if this gesture was friendly to you, you had awakened all of Rafe's hormones. when Ward forced him to come help you, he expected to see a horrible, bitter cougar but fuck, you were terribly far from the image he had made in his mind. you were the opposite of this idea. you were perfect, the kind of milf with divine mommy milkers who were top favorites on his private browser, the kind of woman he clearly wanted to call mama. he felt so tight in his frat pants, and he terribly regret not choosing to put on boxers because he could feel his cock hanging down through his shorts, and slapping against his naked thigh.

because damn, the flapping wasn't the sound of the wind.

he stucked his tongue in his mouth and moved closer.

“yes, ma’am. "

usually, you hated that nickname. but his thick southern accent made this much warmer. you squeezed his hand. his was sweaty.

it was terribly hot here, a tropical heat to die for. you wore a bikini top that barely hid your large breasts from spilling out of the fabric, and under your skirt protruded the string and triangle of a thong.

rafe cameron is dying to be in a scandalous POV porn video with you. and Jesus, if your tits didn't move so much every time you took a step, he wouldn't have these kinds of impure thoughts. you were too hot and he was burning.

“I hope you don’t mind. " you replied with an almost false tone.

“ pleased to be at your service, ma'am." he replied with a smile. “you know, you can call me whenever you want.”

“ward is lucky to have a son like you.”

for some reason you didn't know, your remark had unsettled him slightly. his face darkened as he followed you into the house. seeing that the atmosphere had become a little tense, you added. “I mean, you’re a good boy, rafe.”

you lost him when you called him a good boy. god, he really needed to go to the bathroom because he was behind you, and the string of your thong kept showing and teasing him. he wondered if god was testing him. he was tortured by his own perversion.

“this is my room. you can put all the things here.”

“do you want me to clean everything too?” he asked.

“it depends. you're looking for a reward, boy ?”

you looked each other straight in the eyes. the tension was suddenly electric. there was challenge in your eyes and excitement in rafe’s blue and glistening gaze. you were on the same wavelength.

"What kind of reward?" he asked.

you leaned over his ear before whispering. “tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“save those words, ma’am.”

“okay, boy.”

“oh, and those panties too.”

“About that, did you purposely not put anything under your pants?”

"You shouldn't look at me like that. ” he mocked in a playful tone while collecting your things. “ I could be your son, ma’am. ”

"That's true, but you're Ward's. So I can do whatever I want with you. And it turns out I want to play with fire."

"Come back later. I have work. But if you want us to work on something else now, I'm not against it. ”

“Are you the type to start something and not finish it?” The dig was light but it had the merit of making Rafe laugh.

“I’m more of the type to start something and finish it between your thighs. Want a ride, ma’am ? ”

“See you soon. Those big arms need to work out a little. ”

You smiled before quitting the room, leaving him with immense sexual frustration.

Of course, he was attracted to girls his age, but you gave off something terribly hot and forbidden. You looked so much like his living fantasy. He urgently needed to jerk off.

And the fact that he was holding your box of panties didn't help matters. He had gently closed the door, only ajar before rummaging through it. He could afford it after you turned him on during this whole conversation. And the fact that you hadn't told him no, that you had shown interest, was worse. He needed it now.

He was sweating without even touching himself yet. He was completely desperate even though he hadn't even touched you. He was pathetic. His hand was shaking before he even grabbed his hard cock. He had chosen a thong from the box, picking it with his fingers before starting to masturbate while he sniffed the fabric of the other. his nose was buried into the sweet scent of your lingerie. he thought of nothing but the way your pussy fitting in the panty, literally outlined it with his lips.

It was obscene and outrageous but he was needy. He had the vision of your huge, milk-filled breasts, but also this vision of you and your full belly, this vision of the completely attractive mother that he desperately wanted to fuck.

Beads of sweat ran down his forehead as he continued to jerk off, his clenching fist moving back and forth on his throbbing dick. he could feel the blood pumping through each of his veins, and the warmth of his balls. he was exploding. his hand was clumsy and trembling. his lips opened, and tongue hung out on weak moans, until pathetic crying flowing on his face.

he ended up wrapping your thong around his cock and speeding up the movement. the fabric slide so easily over his length, adjusting to his girth. he had spat on his dick, making it shine on the tip, before wetting it fully and fasted his movements. he was excited as a dog. you turned him into a mad freak.

his legs shivering as he continued to jerk himself up and down, each finger wrapped around his girth. he was on his knees, half-naked and perverted. he couldn't think, you were the only thing in his head. as he touched himself, his balls slapped heavily between his fat thighs.

all of his fingers worked around his cock, pressing against his blood-soaked flesh. the fabric went through his entire boner which became uncontainable. it was painful, the pain could be heard in his moans.

he even stuck one of your underwear in his mouth, and he actually bit into it to contain his noises while he fisted his entire cock.

as it had been more than half an hour and you no longer heard anything, you decided to leave the transat of your pool to go look up. the door to your room was ajar and you could hear muffled whispers and moaning complaints. you took off your heels to look through the door.

you wished you weren't horny, but you totally were. you were turned on by what you saw. you had a smile on your lips, and you opened the door.

you approached and when he saw you, his face changed. you crossed your arms over your chest, your breasts sticking out more. his eyes were bright, and his mouth was panting. you wanted to caress his cheek and call him babygirl but you held back. just because he was younger than you didn't mean he couldn't fuck you as well as your ex husband. you crouched in front of him, giving him a full view of your thong, but also the contours of your pussy through the fabric.

“I didn’t know you were such a pervert. I leave you alone with my things...and this is what you do with them..." you grabbed the used panties above his face.

he had ejaculated inside, his sperm had formed a wet white stain.

"what am I supposed to do with you? I could tell ward what his son is doing...Should I call your dad for being naughty, Rafe ? Or maybe, it's better to deal with me. " you played with him with some teasing.

you caught the fear in his eyes and chuckled. in reality, your threat was crueler than you thought. and you quickly understood that his father was a sensitive subject.

“apart from that, my things are put away so it’s true that I owe you something, kid.”

“Stop calling me kid.” he warned.

"Why? It's a kid's behavior to do things behind their parents' backs."

He smirked. You were obviously a mother to come up with this kind of thinking.

"Want to play the momma so bad? I can fix that. Let me breed that pussy and make you a little child to have a real reason to call him kid."

“You think you can breed me? When you were literally jerking off in my panties instead or facing me to admit how perverted you are?”

you took off his cap and collected the sperm on it.

“You think I’m too young to fuck you? ”

"No, I have no doubts about your sexual abilities. You seem in great shape."

Without taking off your panties, you began to rub yourself against the fabric of his cap. you could feel rafe's wet and still warm cum, plus the object sliding against your slit.

as you stroked yourself on his cap, you could hear him groan. It didn't take him long to regain his masturbation.

moans had started to come out of your mouth, while you humped the object knowing full well that he would put it back when he left your house with your scent still on it. you moved sensually, your hips bucking slowly so he could hear how wet you were. your body was submitted to his desires, your boobs had burst out of your bikini top.

as if in need of affection, he had wrapped his slobbering and desperate mouth around your breasts. he had sucked and licked your nipples and nibbling the piece of tender flesh between his teeth without hurting you. he had sank his mouth far enough to cause you sensations of pleasure and enjoyment. he continued, his tongue rolling from one of your tits giving slap to them with his muscle, while you held his head in your hands, caressing his neck with an affectionate gesture. he was such a good boy, your pretty boy.

he was playing with you. his mouth was toying with your tits. he loved pinching them, and let them bounce before putting his head on it. he was so horny, his dick tugging hard and painfully in his pants. he was sucking at your boobs, biting them to hear your whiny noises into his ears. his face was so cocky, so frat.

you continued to rub yourself, your pussy soaking all the fabric. sloppily kissing your huge tits, he trailed his kisses around your skin and neck. he dragged one of his hands around your throat, making you move your head slightly.

“sit on my face..."

It wasn't even an order but you complied. he clearly wanted you to fuck his mouth with your pussy. he had placed his hands on your thighs to steady you while you were on the bed. the next second his mouth was covered by your dripping slit and juices. his tongue was hot, and licked you so well that your legs compressed around his face. you could feel your clit twitching against his mouth. his hungry hands were tight against you, as he slurped the sweet taste of your cunt.

you were divine. his eager tongue was fucking you perfectly, as your weeped all your wetness into his lips. your arching clit was devoured and bullied by his horny mouth. his hands were on your waist and tummy flesh, caressing you softly as he was eating you all the way. you could feel his tongue sliding in and out, making you feel even more tight. his muscle brushing your slick, pushing deeper and deeper as the throb of your clit tickles his nose. you were in heaven. your body was tensed under his strong breath, hard spasms shivering your insides as the blow covering your juices.

your husband had never given you so much pleasure but here you were swimming in complete happiness. the way his hands gripped your body and his tongue licked you. you started driving on top of him, moving your hips as you held your breasts, and his mouth just followed the movement of your body. his tongue was fat, giving quick circles around your buds, while he held you.

you had also seen the big bulge in his pants. it was giant. all you wanted was to see his cock entirely. so you leaned over and undid his pants.

you already knew he wasn’t wearing boxers. you saw him earlier. even though you were impressed by the size, you were quick to put it in your mouth. it was like a toy. your lips were wrapped around his dick above your face. you had started to suck him. your glossy mouth was around his girth and moved up and down at the beginning slowly then faster. you kept him still with your mommy weight against his, your fat tits on top of his pelvis, and his thick cock inside your mouth. you sucked him deep in the throat.

you were thrusting in and out so fast and sloppy that you had quickly started to be a mess. your hair, your eyes, your nose, that whole mouth. you would release all your sexual frustration in this blowjob. you could feel his entire cock travel through your mouth to your throat and fill it. but you also had his tongue buried in your pussy but your moans were muffled by his dick. you were breathing hard but you were enjoying it so much.

you knew it was wrong and if ward found out you were fucking with his son, you were dead. but you couldn't resist a guy like rafe. and just because he wasn't your age didn't mean he couldn't fuck you.

you continued to pump him, then pulled his cock dripping with your own drool out of your mouth before slapping the glistening tip against your soaked cheeks. your noises were so obscene that Rafe gave you six little slaps against your pussy. you licked his tip without taking it back into your mouth. you had only teased him.

he pushed you to the side, and stood on top of you.

“you work hard.” you said, judging his big arms.

you had lurked about the size of his biceps which were quite impressive.

“ if I want to fuck pretty milfs like you, i need it. .”

“Speaking of this, what are you waiting for? Should i ask …”

“So eager to be fucked by a young boy ? got it. ”

he hadn’t waited a minute longer and he was already inside you. he could have start gently but you were so wet that it slipped so easily. you weren’t really as tight as the girls he was used to meeting but damn, he felt so good inside you.

he quickly picked up the pace, pounding into your pussy while holding your thighs. when your screams got louder, he covered your mouth with a smirk. “did you forget about the kid next door? want him to wake up because his mommy is a whore? ”

even though it was degrading, you were completely turned on by those words. mommy's whore? you could feel the fire in your pussy ignite as he fucked you roughly against your own mattress.

“r-rafe…” it was so pathetic to be bullied by a guy younger than you.

but he was incredibly good. he was buried in your walls, you could feel every inches of his cock in your canal pumping in and out. both of your bodies slammed against each other. and your pussy squeezed him like a vice which made him even more excited.

“ take it. i thought it was not a big deal for you ? can have a fucking baby inside your belly for 9months but can't take that fucking dick of mine inside you for few minutes ? stop acting, babe, because you're only making it worse for you. ”

the way your breasts moved as you took him, how your body bounced on the mattress, how your moans caressed his hand. you were perfect. and a fucking milf..he couldn't wait to brag about this to his frat friends.

your pussy was dripping at the entrance and soaking him completely. you were unable to think of anything. the way he fucked you made it hard for you to think, and the smacking sounds of your cunt against his dick werent helpful at all. aside from saying his name through his hand, your voice muffled, you weren't good for anything.

"look at that pussy and belly, taking my cock so well. i bet you wanted a second baby so bad."

his words were outrageous but the more dirty and unhealthy it was, the craziest slut it made you.

degradation was your thing so you had no desire to stop him in his way. he thrust in and out, driving all his large cock into your soaked walls, fucking you all the way to your tummy without mercy. his big cock hitting your insides repeatedly as he admired himself through his thrusts. “ do you like your belly with my cock inside it ? ”

he had crushed part of your face through the mattress before leaning over you as he continued to work you, his tip touching your spot. your legs were trembling, your eyes were watery and your mouth was panting. you were so fucking dirty.

“crying? throbbing? begging? that kid is fucking you too good, ma'am. “he mocked you nasty. “ and that sweet pussy fits my cock very well. can you feel that ? ”

“ r-rafe…! ”

“ sorry, i can't hear ya well, those mommy milkers are bouncing too loud. but it doesn't matter, i'm not in the mood to listen to you, you're just gonna take it until i’m tired. ”

when he started to speed up because he knew he was going to cum, you didn't know how many minutes he had been inside you and fucking you hard like a ragdoll. but it's been a long, long time. you had already reached orgasm three times. and it was like he was playing with you. he wanted to see you tired and on the verge of explosion. rafe wanted to see you completely worn out. he wanted to feel like he used you extremely well.

“the roles have changed. I'm the one giving the rewards now. " and he came, thicks white loads filling your sweet cunt as he spoke, letting a warm pressure inside your belly.

“ what if i'm pregnant ? ”

“ nobody will be surprised that you've got another baby. they would be more suprised about the daddy.”

“ rafe. i'm serious. imagine if ward knows…”

“ this is not his business. i can take care of my shit. “

you gave him a worried look. he had gathered his things and gotten dressed while you were still in bed.

he kissed you on the forehead. “you have my number..."

“i have more than your number now, rafe.” you joked gently.

in the evening, you connected to your Instagram. you wanted to stalk Rafe on social media. And he had posted something on Threads. Okay, you knew he wasn't the kind of disciplined and courteous guy but you expected better from him. The fact that he was telling everyone that he fucked you and calling you milf like you were a score on his scoreboard was really not cool.

The next day you got ready and went to knock at Tannyhill. Ward opened you with a huge smile. “Hello sweet, how are you?”

"Everything's great. Your son is very adorable."

Ward had brought you into the house, and you had seen the whole family at the table. “Oh am I disturbing?” you pretended to be concerned.

“No, of course not.”

"Actually, it'll be quick. I heard your daughter Wheezie was looking for a tutor. And I wanted to offer myself. It'll be my way to thank your son."

While saying that, your gaze was fixed on Rafe who also didn't take his eyes off you.

It didn't take long for Ward to introduce you to the family.

After the meal, Rafe had taken you upstairs to his room before pinning you against the wall.

“What’s your problem?!”

"No, what's your problem?! Tutoring Wheezie? Don't make me believe you have any degree? Girls like you don't seem to bother studying."

"Wow...you can be really mean when you want. I saw the offer online, and I volunteered, that's all. No need for a fuss. I need to work, rafe. It's called life. ”

"Don't make me think you don't have intentions behind it. Suddenly you want to help Wheezie?"

He had laughed, his tongue poking inside his cheek. “Well, okay.”

" What ? "

"I needed some new faces for my frat house. Your son will do it. Don't you mind that he joined my party? It will have plenty of choices, there is a lot of girls there. Hotter than his fucking brat mom. "

“I beg your pardon?”

“What? It’s the frat concept, we’re brothers. And i'm gonna help my new bro. ”

"You really want to play that? You know, tutoring is easy. But you know what's even easier for me Rafe? It's being a mother. Being a mother to Wheezie is..."

“You’re really crazy, don’t you?”

“I think I just found someone who matched my freak then.”

“I dare you to approach Wheezie.”

“See you soon, Rafe. Oh and I forgot to say. ”

“ What ? ”

“ Did your father always be friendly with ‘neighbors' or your stepmom is so boring that he wouldn't mind having an affair ? I'm joking. Call me when you have time. Oh and you should invite me to those frat parties.”

“ Why i will do that ? ”

“ Stop bragging about it, your bros want some shows, Rafe. And i'm willing to give them. Just for you. ”

[confessionbrain-writings]

For better, for worse - Benny Cross

Pairing: Benny Cross x F!Reader A/N: This is just a quick blurb which floated around in my head today, which I wrote down on my phone, so please bare with me for typos and mistakes. I hope you enjoy!🧡

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union—“ 

The ringing in your ears was so loud from the blood pumping that it had blocked out the priest’s voice. Ragged breaths spilled over your lips while your heart raced, your clammy palms clutching the bouquet painfully tight as the weight on your chest increased with every desperate heartbeat. 

You couldn’t believe this was real. That you were standing in front of a priest, about to get married to your nightmare. Since your father died six months ago -and having lost your mom during childbirth- your stepmother, that evil bitch, struck up an old friend, forcing you into this marriage mainly for financial reasons. The free life you used to have, now about to be gone forever and there was nothing you could do about it. 

Next to you, you could feel the gaze of your soon-to-be-husband, Richard, on you. His eyes shamelessly caressing over you, no doubt thinking the most absolute sinful thoughts, the awful sadist he was.

This couldn’t be happening. The same thought kept chanting over and over in your head. But even though the voice kept screaming at you to get the hell out of there, you couldn’t. The shock and terror leaving you frozen on the spot, playing the part your stepmother so keenly liked to see.

A rough ‘ahem’ cut through the air, interrupting your panicked train of thoughts. Your wide eyes flicked to the priest who tilted his head to Richard, following his gaze you saw how Richard extended his hand. You suppressed a sob, while placing your shaking hand in his palm.

“Repeat after me,” the Priest told Richard, who—for once in his life—did exactly as he was told, repeating the vows with utter calm. The words barely registered, until his loud, clear ‘I do’ hit you like a hammer. The realization struck you hard, making it nearly impossible to breathe as the roaring in your ears became deafening.

No. No. No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening. You lifted your eyes to Richard, recoiling immediately upon seeing his smug face, clearly satisfied with you trembling. He was going to make your life a living hell. You had to escape. Now. Your stepmother be damned—she never liked you anyway, just as much you didn’t like her. It was time to choose for yourself. So you did. Somehow, you regained control of your body.

You yanked your hand back, gripping the white skirt tightly, kicking off your heels, and making a run for it. Gasps and murmurs echoed around you as you sprinted to the exit like a madwomen. You heard Richard and your stepmother calling after you, followed by hurried footsteps. You didn’t dare glance over your shoulder to see who’d followed, but that didn’t matter—you needed to leave.

It felt like you were flying, the sun-kissed pavement of the church terrain warm beneath the soles of your feet. The deafening roar in your head reached a crescendo as you dashed across the road, not daring to look for traffic. The sharp screech of tires suddenly pierced through the noise, forcing your head up. Adrenaline surged through your bloodstream as you found yourself face to face with as handful of speeding motorcycles. Instinctively, you splayed your hands out in front of you—like they could stop what was coming.

The front tire clipped you, leaving a black smudge on the virgin-white of your wedding dress.

A sob tore from your chest a split second later as the realization hit you—you had almost been run over. The eyes of the biker in front of you were so wide you could see the whites around his deep-brown irises. Around him the other bikers cursed and yelled at you for being such a foolish girl, but all turned their heads when Richard angrily yelled your name from across the street.

“No.” The word escaped as a whisper as you retreated a step, bumping into another biker. His brows furrowed as he looked between you and Richard, taking in your panicked expression and the wedding dress. He added one and one together, realizing what was happening—then his eyes widened in recognition.

You met his gaze, and in a heartbeat, you knew. How could you forget your childhood best friend?

“Benjamin,” you breathed, the name escaping your lips just as a sob did.

Without a word, he gripped your wrist and pulled you towards him. Relief washing over you as you clutched him tightly. Desperation overtook you. 

“Please, help me! Get me out of here, please!”

He didn’t hesitate. Before you could blink, he tugged you onto his bike, revving the engine, and in an instant, you were racing over the asphalt. With the rest of the club on your heels, you sped away and left everything behind.

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

[delulustateofmind]

Bad Luck

Yan!Mahito x Reader

Description: You bring home a blue worm, what could go wrong? 

TW: Mahito (that’s literally the only one you need), Noncon/dubcon, brief lactation kink, Yandere behaviors - just obsession, threatening to disfigure people, Somnophilia, overstim, teeny-tiny piss mention (listen I would piss myself if I saw Mahito’s creations), praise (towards mahito) 

MDNI

WC: 2.3k

A/n: I literally despise Mahito, but I just feel like he would be such a good horror yandere. The dude is spooky. Fair warning, I am not the most comfortable with writing smut, especially dark stuff like this, so it could be actually terrible, but I figured I would test the waters. There may be errors, as I got to shy to read my own smut.

Today was not the day. Everything seemed to unravel at once. First, you lost your job at that trendy new café—a small but lively spot you had started to actually enjoy—all because you spilled a drink on your now ex-boyfriend. He’d walked in holding hands with your best friend, their shared laughter and kissing had…struck a nerve with you, and before you knew it, your world tilted. Your scholarship? Gone, revoked due to an anonymous tip accusing you of plagiarism in your senior project. You were lucky they didn’t expel you, but the word “lucky” felt like a cruel joke.

The streets of Tokyo buzzed around you, a dizzying blend of neon lights and the chatter of hurried crowds. The rain started, cold and sudden, soaking through your clothes and chilling you to the bone. Great. No umbrella, no clear memory of where you’d left your bike. You shuffled through the rain, each step heavier than the last. The absurd thought flitted through your mind: maybe you should have reshared that Facebook post you saw years ago, the one that said, “Share if you love Jesus or ignore for ten years of bad luck.” Perhaps ignoring it had been your downfall. You’ll make a note for next time. 

After several minutes, you found your bike, its metal frame slick with rainwater. Just as you were about to sit down, you noticed something small and peculiar resting on the seat—a grayish-blue caterpillar, fuzzy and oddly mesmerizing with what seemed like patchwork markings. You’d never seen one like that before. Your first instinct was unexpected: maybe you should bring it home. If you left it here, it might get crushed by a passerby or snatched up by a bird. Or worse—maybe it was poisonous and someone else’s day would become just as disastrous as yours.

Carefully, you opened your empty bento box and placed the little creature inside. It seemed to squirm contentedly, almost as if it understood your intention. You opted not to close the lid, fearful it might suffocate. Gently, you set the box in the small basket of your bicycle and began the short ride home. Your apartment was only a few miles away, nestled in the heart of Kabukicho, Tokyo’s vibrant and infamous entertainment district. It wasn’t ideal—the clamor of nearby bars, the Yakuza lurking in shadowed alleys, piles of trash and drunks lining the streets—but it was the only place you could afford. And on most days, it felt safe enough.

You climbed the eight flights of stairs, each step more taxing than the last, breath hitching as you struggled to catch it. Maintenance had promised to fix the elevator months ago. By the time you reached your door, you were gasping, sweat and rain mixing on your skin. You looked down at the caterpillar. Or was it a worm now? Its form seemed more elongated, less distinct. It stared back at you, almost knowingly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Perhaps the rain was already starting to give you a fever. You should have brought a jacket today. 

You blinked, shaking off the thought. You were exhausted. It had been a day of too many shocks, and your mind was playing tricks on you. That had to be it. Right? 

You found an old tank from that one fish you tried keeping alive, setting the worm, caterpillar, thing—whatever it was—inside. You placed a few leaves from your plants that were barely living. Perhaps a reflection of you in a sense, starting so bright in life only to wallow in self-deprecation. You placed the cover of the tank, giving the worm thing one last look before scrounging through your fridge for something besides leftovers.

You could always move back home.

Go back to your little small rural town, tend to the rice fields just like your parents. Marry some local boy.

You tried to wipe the tears before they could fall into your sad bowl of ramen, the running snot and the wails of your cries. Was this pack of ramen always this salty or was it your tears adding to it? You weren’t sure if you cared or not.

After your good little cry session, you passed out in bed. Unaware that you had made a huge mistake bringing home that silly little caterpillar.

You awoke in the middle of the night to a heavy weight on your waist. Was your stuffed animal always this heavy? You blearily looked up, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when your gaze was met with a cruel smile, teeth white and unsettlingly human, glistening in the dim light.

Cold terror seeped into your veins. The figure looming over you was not human. Its eyes were black voids, bottomless pits reflecting nothing but curiosity. The skin, pale and stitched together like a mangled corpse.

Was this how you die? At the hands of some nightmare made flesh? Maybe you should have reblogged that post. Maybe you should have sent that money to that Nigerian prince you thought was a spam email.

“Hello,” the voice giggled, a mockery of warmth twisted by an unnatural echo. The creature tilted its head, gray hair that was partially braided spilling to the side. Its markings, dark and jagged like stitches. You suddenly remembered the caterpillar, and your stomach roiled with dread.

“Did you bring me home to play?” it whispered, voice lilting with a sickening glee. The grin widened impossibly, the teeth remaining unsettlingly human. The creature’s eyes glistened with delight as it fed on the raw, unfiltered terror etched across your face.

“I’m so glad you did,” it cooed, fingers like talons skimming across your cheek with a touch too cold, too calculated. Suddenly, it giggled again—a sound both childlike and unsettling, as if a child were delighted by their favorite toy—and clapped its hands. “We’re going to have so much fun! Let’s see how long you can scream,” it said, eyes sparkling with manic glee.

Suddenly, Mahito’s expression softened, taking on an eerie, almost affectionate look. He traced your jawline with a gentler touch, tilting his head with an unsettling innocence. “But you’re special,” he murmured, as if sharing a secret. “You brought me here, after all. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll keep you.”

The room spun as confusion and fear filled your mind. The monster’s gaze shifted from playful to possessive, a twisted sort of fondness darkening his features. He pressed his forehead against yours, the unnatural coldness of his skin seeping into you.

“You’re mine now,” Mahito whispered, a mockery of affection that sent chills racing down your spine. “And I protect what’s mine.”

The next few months were hell. You found out that only you could see Mahito. Something about him being a curse or something. At times, he would remind you that you were lucky that he liked you. He’d remind you by dragging you to witness his “experiments,” humans grotesquely twisted into unrecognizable forms, clawing at the damp walls of a forgotten sewer.

“This could be you,” he cooed so playfully, pressing a few light kisses to your neck as your eyes widened in horror at the sight before you. You trembled, unable to look away from the writhing, desperate figures.

“But you’re so pretty, I just… I just love you,” Mahito giggled, an almost boyish smile splitting his face as he looked at you, eyes brimming with a twisted sincerity. His arms wrapped around your waist, a possessive embrace that felt more like a shackle.

“You take such good care of me, y/n,” he whispered, the words sending shivers down your spine as the grotesque chorus of agony continued around you. The contrast between his gentle tone and the grotesque scene made your stomach churn. You knew there was no escaping him—not now, not ever

“Mahito... can we go home?” you rasped, voice trembling as his teeth grazed your neck, leaving a stinging mark in their wake. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but you bit back a cry.

“Go home...?” His voice took on a mocking, airy tone as he nuzzled against your skin. “I was going to join you at the university today. I need a few more shrunken experiments, you know? I was thinking about picking that one girl who sits next to you. The one who always compliments your outfits.” His hand slipped under your shirt, his touch cold and insistent as he left another bruising kiss on your collarbone.

“She should’ve known you were mine,” he giggled, the sound innocent and jarring as he toyed with your vulnerability. His hand made its way to your chest, and a shocked, playful laugh escaped his lips. “No bra? My, my, you spoil me…”

His eyes glistened with delight, a twisted mix of childlike excitement and sadistic pleasure. “Remember when you used to run away? I miss those days... I miss scaring you with my experiments. But I also love when you let me touch…”

Mahito’s lips quivered in a deranged smile, as his fingers found your nipples. Twisting and pulling until milk begins to dampen your shirt.The tips of his fingers becoming sticky with your milk. A giggle escaped his lips “I was so lucky this alteration to your body took…I was nearly worried it was going to kill you in the process….messing with brains can be hard” he whined the past few words as he continued to milk you, staining your poor blouse with each tug and pull. The only thing that filled the room was the sound of your sweet moans and the horrors that were monsters clawing the walls. You felt sick as slick began to coat your thighs, something that could be mixed with piss from the sight around you and the arousal building up from your sensitive buds being toyed with, to the point where they ached. 

You practically whimpered in his grip. Clawing at the arm that held you to his chest. 

“I love you,” he continued, his voice dripping with twisted delight, the words flowing out in a sing-song manner. “Say it back and we’ll go home…okay?” His smile, stretched wide and near-manic, sent a chill down your spine as he watched you wither under his touch.

“Hah…I…” The words caught in your throat, lodged behind the growing bile threatening to choke you. You forced them out, pushing past the terror and the nausea that gripped you as your eyes darted to his grotesque creations, their hands clawing desperately at the walls of the forgotten sewer. “I love…you…” The phrase broke into fractured sobs, each one echoing in your mind, barely masking the sound of Mahito’s gleeful laughter as he swept you up into his arms.

“That’s my girl! See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he chirped, the cheerfulness in his voice a sickening contrast to the horror around you. Your body tensed, but you forced yourself to relax, leaning into his chest. They were once people, weren’t they? 

As your vision blurred, exhaustion pulled you under, your mind swirling with nightmares of those poor, wretched things clawing and pleading in the darkness. 

You weren’t sure how long you were out for, your mind hazy, you felt like you had a fever as you panted. You blinked away the sleep, feeling a pool of heat between your legs and you could hear…moans? Everything felt so hot…so messy. 

“Give…give me one…more” Mahito whined with each and every breath. Has he been?…The soreness hit you first, you felt so raw. You watched at the pale creature pathetically humped the bed like a bitch in heat. “I was a good boy…right? Right? I waited…so that way you could enjoy it too…” His dead eyes looked up at you, expecting some sort of praise for his deranged actions. You hoped that you could mask the horror on your face, right before, he curled his fingers deep inside you causing you to squirm. 

“Hah…I memorized your body…while you were asleep…if I touch you here” you nearly screamed out of pleasure, your body compulsing as you saw stars, your eyes rolling back of your skull, You were just so overstimulated. “It will make you climax within seconds…so I figured I would keep hitting that spot until you wake up” He smiled as he licked your clit, circling his long tongue around the sensitive nub that caused a guttural moan to slip out of your lips. “Then this little thing causes your legs to shake…must feel good right? All red and puffy” he continued licking up and down, side to side. Spelling out his name until you were spilling out curses from your lips. His fingers kept curling around that sweet spot that was located deep inside of you. The sounds that filled the room, made your stomach tighten in knots. You shouldn’t be feeling this….good. 

You peeked down at him, the way he looked up at you like a lovesick bitch in heat. He enjoyed this a little too much you could tell. 

“Tell me, I’m a good boy, please…please” He moaned as he continued to fuck himself against your bed. “Y/n…I’m your good boy…” he whined in between licks. “I cleaned you up and everything…hah…you were just so messy…couldn’t…help myself.” 

You forced the words out in between labored breaths.

“You’re…a good….boy” After that final word, pleasure clashed into you. Your hips moved involuntarily as you squirted on his face, earning a large, cruel smile from his lips as he licked at the sweet juices in between muttering Thank you and I love you. You were thankful you passed out. Not wanting to know what else he had in store for you tonight. 

Perhaps hell would be better than this.

[cheynovak]

A siren's call

Characters: Soldier boy x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:   After decades apart, Ben hears a voice in a smoky bar—a voice that draws him like a siren’s call. It belongs to Y/N, the woman he lost long ago. Unable to resist, he confronts her after her performance.

Warnings: soft sexual tension, not much

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The night was bitter, the wind slicing through the streets of New York like a razor. Ben adjusted his shirt and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The world had changed in the forty years since he was taken out of it, but some parts of the city still held a certain timelessness.

It was the smell of rain on the pavement, the occasional jazz note spilling from an open window, the flickering neon signs—things that reminded him of a time when he still thought he was invincible, when he thought he had it all. He paused in front of a bar, the sign above it old and cracked but still legible.

The Velvet Rose. A place he'd known once, back when jazz and blues were whispered rebellions in a world that forbade them. His boots crunched on the wet sidewalk as he debated moving on, but then he heard it—a voice so rich and sweet it stopped him cold. He turned toward the sound, his heart pounding like a war drum. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be her.

The voice he hadn’t heard since the '70s, the one that haunted his dreams. Y/N. No. She would be long gone by now, her laugh a ghost, her memory as faded as an old Polaroid. But his feet betrayed him, carrying him toward the sound. He pushed the door open, the dim amber light spilling out to greet him like an old friend. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and nostalgia.

The clink of glasses and murmurs of conversation faded into the background as he found the staircase to the basement. His boots hit each step with the weight of disbelief. And there she was. The room was a time capsule, untouched by decades of change. The polished wood, the velvet curtains, the smoky haze—all of it could have been lifted straight from 1957.

But it was her who held his attention. She stood on the stage, bathed in the warm glow of a spotlight. Her red silk dress hugged her in all the ways he remembered, her every movement a melody in itself. She swayed with the music, her voice wrapping around the room like a velvet ribbon.

His chest tightened. She hadn’t aged a day. Men filled the room, transfixed, but for her, they were background noise. As her song reached its crescendo, her eyes swept across the room and landed on him. Just for a moment. To anyone else, it would have been nothing—a glance, a flicker of acknowledgment. But he saw it. Recognition.

Her voice faltered, just slightly, so imperceptibly no one else would have noticed. But he did. He saw the way her breath hitched, the way her grip on the microphone tightened. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause. She smiled, graceful as ever, and thanked the audience before disappearing behind the velvet curtain.

He didn’t think. He moved. Down a narrow hallway, past murmuring patrons and waitstaff, he found the door. A security guard stepped forward, the tension palpable. The man was no pushover, towering over Ben with arms like tree trunks. But Ben didn’t flinch, his steely gaze unwavering.

Before it could escalate, her voice rang out, rich and commanding. “It’s OK, Marcel. As much as I would like the see you two alfa's fight, you can let him in.” Marcel hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped aside.

Ben pushed past him without a glance, his eyes locked on the door she had disappeared behind. Inside, the room was dimly lit, soft and intimate. She was there, seated at a vanity, her back to him. Her hands worked through her hair, undoing the intricate style. It cascaded down in waves, framing her shoulders and collarbone.

The sight was breathtaking, but it was the way she turned and smiled at him that sent a punch straight to his gut. “I thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.

“How?” was all Ben could manage, his voice raw. She stood, her red dress replaced by a long, luxurious robe trimmed with fur on the sleeves. Her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the room toward him. “Would you have believed me,” she began, tilting her head slightly, “if I told you back then you weren’t the only one?”

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation. She huffed a soft, disbelieving laugh, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Oh, Ben,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t.”

Before she could step away, his hand was behind her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other, his breath warm against her face. Their eyes searched each other’s, a silent conversation passing between them. He began to lean in, his lips almost brushing hers, when she whispered, “Let me go, Ben.”

His body obeyed, his arms releasing her as though her words had taken away his will to resist. “So that’s it,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You can manipulate people?”

Her eyes softened as she stepped back, wrapping the robe tighter around herself. “Men,” she admitted. “I’m a siren.” She moved to sit on the edge of the vanity, her elegance unshaken. Ben followed, standing behind her.

His eyes caught hers in the mirror, locking them in place. “Did you…” he began, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Did you use it on me?” She smiled, but it was a sad, wistful expression, her gaze dropping before she answered. “You wouldn’t have run to her if I did.”

The mention of her hit him like a slap. Crimson Countess. The woman he thought he loved. The woman who had betrayed him in every way that mattered. “Her,” Ben said, his voice thick with regret. “My biggest mistake.”

Y/N’s expression softened further, a mixture of understanding and sorrow. “You weren’t yourself, Ben. And maybe… if I had fought a little harder, gave you a little more of myself. But what’s done is done.” He wanted to argue, wanted to apologize, but the words caught in his throat.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he finally asked, his reflection pleading with hers. “Because I wanted it to be your choice, and you chose her.” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Even if it meant losing you. I needed to be sure you loved me for me.”

The silence between them was heavy, filled with years of unspoken truths and what-ifs. Ben reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder in a tentative gesture.

"How is she?" her voice cracked as the words left her mouth, heavy with a mix of anger and grief. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. “Dead.” Her lips parted, and she began to murmur, “I’m sor—” “Don’t.” His tone was sharp, cutting her off.

He stepped back, his hands balling into fists. “I killed her.” The words hung in the air, heavier than anything else he’d said. Y/N’s eyes searched his face, trying to gauge what lay beneath his hardened exterior. “Why?”

“Because she betrayed me.” She turned around, her gaze locking onto his. “Is that what you’re here to do, Ben? To kill me?” The question struck like a thunderclap.

Ben’s knees gave out, and he sank to the floor before her, his hands reaching for hers. “Never,” he said, his voice breaking. “Never you. I—I came to beg. For forgiveness, for leaving you. For everything.” Her fingers slid over his, trembling slightly. Slowly, she stood up before him, her hand finding its way to his face.

Her touch was light, but it burned into him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. “Get up, Ben,” she said softly. “This doesn’t suit you.” He let her guide him to his feet, the weight of his guilt still clinging to him like a second skin. “Besides,” she added, her lips curving into a faint smile, “it wasn’t me. It was the song. That’s what brought you back to me.”

Ben shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s not the song. It’s you. It’s always been you.” She hesitated, her hand still lingering against his chest. There was something in her eyes—doubt, maybe even fear, did he mean it? Could Ben be immune if he wanted to? But she couldn't find out, him leaving her again would break her heart.

She had heard tales of sirens losing the love of their life. Once their heart had been broken, their life song would end and slowly so would they. She had been scared to give Ben her heart, and it turned out she was right about it.

She turned toward the door, reaching for the handle to let him out. Before she could pull it open, Ben’s hand shot out, pushing it closed with a force that reverberated through the room. She gasped softly, caught between the door and his body, her back pressing into the wood.

His hands found her waist, holding her firmly but not harshly. His breath fanned against her skin as his face hovered just inches from hers. “Ben…”

He didn’t wait. He didn’t think. He kissed her, the kind of kiss that shattered walls and erased time. Hot and heavy, full of all the years they’d lost, the pain they’d endured, and the longing that had never died. At first, she froze, but then he felt it—the way her lips softened against his, the way her hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

And then he heard it, soft and sweet, the sound that had always undone him. “Ben…” she moaned, his name rolling off her tongue like honey. It was like a dam breaking.

Every memory of them came rushing back, flooding his senses. Nights spent tangled in silk sheets. Her laugh echoing in the quiet moments between battles. The way she’d once looked at him, as though he were the only thing in the world that mattered. His lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, her neck, before resting against her collarbone as he caught his breath.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. She lifted his chin, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him feel like he might drown. “Ben.” It wasn’t just a name. It was a promise. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her, grounding himself in the reality that she was here, alive, and real. And this time, he wouldn’t let her slip away.

Ben's lips moved with desperate precision, tracing the curve of her neck, her shoulder, and down to her collarbone. Each kiss was a plea, a claim, a reminder that she was his, even after all these years.

"Again," he ordered, his voice low and rough against her skin. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “Oh, Ben…” His hands slid to the bow of her robe, tugging at it with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

The fabric loosened, falling open to reveal her to him. His gaze swept over her, filled with reverence and need. His hands roamed, not gentle but not cruel, driven by years of longing and regret. But then her voice came again, soft but firm, anchoring him.

“Ben…wait” His hands stilled, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. “I need you,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to pierce through the haze of his desire. “I need you too, baby,” he said quickly, leaning in, his lips brushing against hers again.

“No, Ben,” she murmured, her hands coming up to frame his face, stopping him. Her eyes locked onto his, filled with vulnerability, longing, and something deeper. “I need you… like I used to have you.”

He froze, her words sinking in. The raw emotion in her gaze tore through him, replacing the fire in his chest with something softer, something warmer. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

“Anything,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Anything you want. I promise.” She nodded, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. This time, when their lips met, it wasn’t rushed or rough. It was slow, deliberate, filled with all the love and pain that had never really gone away.

He guided her back toward the large sofa in the room, his movements gentle now, reverent, as though she might disappear if he wasn’t careful. “Y/N,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make it right. I’ll give you everything. Just… tell me what you need.”

Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer, grounding him. “make love to me,” she said softly.

“I just need you.”

--

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[kisses4sarang]

THE HABIT OF YOU (ft.hanni)

A/N : Horrible Writing 😭 (English is not my first language so,grammar error)

It was very late—much too late to be walking alone on the streets of Seoul. But there you were, wrapped up in your jacket to protect against the cold night air, heading to a place you hadn't been to in months: the small, unremarkable café that had once been your special spot with Hanni.

The café's warm light spilled out onto the empty sidewalk, and without even thinking, you walked inside. The bell above the door made its gentle chime, a sound so familiar it made your heart ache.

You used to love this place because it was peaceful and tucked away, away from the busy crowds. Now, you disliked it for the same reason. It was a constant reminder of Hanni.

The barista smiled politely as you ordered your drink, your voice almost lost in the soft jazz music playing in the background. You sat down by the window, the same spot you always used to choose when Hanni was with you.

It was just a habit, really—something you couldn’t stop doing.

_________________________________________

You believed you were ready for times like this. But as you looked out at the empty streets, the memories rushed back.

Hanni’s laughter when she joked about you always choosing the same drink. How she’d always try to take sips from your cup, even though she had her own. Her fingers touching yours under the table, unsure but intentional, as if she was exploring a love that seemed too perfect to be real.

You closed your eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath. She wasn’t here anymore. You had let her go—no, you both had let each other go.

It wasn’t a sad ending, just...unavoidable. Her world had become bigger, brighter, and busier with each step in her career. You tried to stay close, but it became clear that her growing success was taking her farther away from you.

And so, you moved aside.

_________________________________________

"Y/N?"

Her voice caught you off guard, so familiar and yet so unexpected that you froze.

You looked up and saw her—Hanni. She seemed different, with shorter hair and tired eyes, but she was still the same girl who had once meant everything to you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The café seemed to quiet down, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

She gave a small, sad smile. "I was about to ask you the same thing.

_________________________________________

Hanni paused before sitting down across from you. Her hands were moving around—something she always did when she felt anxious.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said quietly.

You felt a lump in your throat, her presence making you feel a bit overwhelmed. “Me neither.”

For a moment, you both just sat there, the quietness between you was strong but not too uncomfortable. It was filled with things you both didn’t say, with memories that you couldn’t forget.

“I miss this place,” she finally said, looking around the room. “I miss...a lot of things.”

You didn’t need her to explain. You understood what she meant, because you felt the same way.

_________________________________________

“I thought I was making the right choice,” Hanni said suddenly, her voice shaky. “Letting you leave. I thought it would be better for both of us.”

You felt a lump in your throat. “Was it?”

She looked at you, her eyes filled with tears she hadn’t let fall. “No.”

The word hung in the air, honest and exposed.

“I thought I could manage it,” she continued, her voice unsteady. “But every time I go to a café, I think of you. Every time I hear a silly joke, I want to share it with you. You’ve become this...this habit I can’t stop.”

Your heart hurt hearing her say that, because it was exactly how you felt too.

“I know we can’t go back to how things used to be,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I need you to know that I still—”

You reached across the table, your fingers touching hers. It was a small move, but it was enough to stop her from talking.

“I know,” you said gently. “Me too.”

_________________________________________

The rest of the night was a mix of soft talking and shy smiles. There were no big promises, no plans to fix everything. Just two people realizing that their connection had never really ended.

When the café shut down and you both went back outside into the cold night, Hanni looked at you, her breath showing in the cool air.

“Can we give it another shot?” she asked, her voice almost begging.

You paused, not because you didn’t want to, but because you were scared. Scared of going back to the same old problems, the same hurt.

But when you looked into her eyes, you knew that some habits weren’t meant to change.

“Yes,” you said at last, your voice strong. “Let’s try again.”

Hanni smiled then—a true, bright smile—and for the first time in months, you felt something close to hope.

_________________________________________

[shitsndgiggs]

Could you make an arda güler fanfiction of this link please? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGenmK5V2/

I just think its very cute if the reader would be like there for arda and help him with his problems or something. Like maybe it could be about how Arda just feels lonely but energetic and a bit childish reader could cheer him up?? Can be a heartwarming and angsty fic? I also would like it if the reader would be turkish. Thank youu

SILENT LOVE - ARDA GÜLER

Love doesn’t always need to be spoken.

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over Ankara as I stepped into Arda’s apartment, my heart full of hope and concern.

I’d noticed the subtle signs of his struggle lately—his quiet demeanor, the way he would stare blankly at the soccer memorabilia scattered around his living room.

It pained me to see him so lost and withdrawn.

“Hey, Arda!” I called out cheerfully, trying to inject a bit of my usual energy into the room.

I couldn’t bear the thought of him being weighed down by his own thoughts without a bit of brightness to lift him up.

He looked up from the floor, where he was rolling a soccer ball back and forth with his foot.

There was a faint smile on his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey,” he replied, his voice soft and barely audible.

I bounced over to him, my excitement practically spilling over. “Guess what I brought you today!” I held up a bag of pastries from my favorite bakery.

The thought of sharing something sweet with him made me feel like I was doing something right.

Arda’s eyes flickered to the bag, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of interest. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know, but I wanted to,” I interrupted, grinning.

“I thought you could use a little treat. Plus, I know you’ve been having a tough time, so I figured this might help.”

I set the bag down and began unpacking the pastries. I handed him a warm chocolate croissant, the kind that melted in your mouth and made everything seem a little better.

Watching him take the pastry, I could see a brief moment of relaxation in his usually tense shoulders.

For the next while, I chattered away—about my day, a funny encounter on the street, the latest gossip from the neighborhood.

I was determined to fill the space with light, hoping that my energy might gently coax him out of his shell.

I could see Arda slowly beginning to engage, his quiet nods and soft smiles becoming a bit more frequent.

Despite my best efforts, there was a heavy silence that clung to the room, and it wasn’t lost on me. I could sense that he wanted to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

He’d always been more of an action person, showing his care through deeds rather than words.

Eventually, the conversation quieted, and a more serious note entered my voice. “Arda,” I said softly, making sure he looked directly at me.

“I know it’s not always easy for you to talk about what’s on your mind. But there’s something you should know.”

He looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What is it?”

“You’re amazing,” I said firmly, my eyes meeting his with sincerity. “I see how hard you work and how much you care. Even if things aren’t going the way you want right now, that doesn’t change how incredible you are.”

His gaze dropped, and a faint blush colored his cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion.

It was clear how difficult it was for him to accept such words, even though I knew he deeply appreciated them.

The silence that followed was thick but warm, filled with a quiet understanding. I knew Arda had a hard time expressing his feelings, and it wasn’t always easy for him to show vulnerability.

But he had a way of showing his care through thoughtful gestures.

In the weeks that followed, Arda made sure to show his appreciation in his own way. He fixed things around my apartment—leaky faucets, squeaky doors—without ever mentioning a word.

He cooked meals for me, making sure I always had something comforting after a long day.

His acts of service spoke volumes about how much he valued me and our relationship.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day for me, Arda arrived with a carefully wrapped gift.

My heart fluttered with curiosity as I opened it to reveal a beautiful leather journal. Inside, there was a note written in his neat handwriting:

"I might not always find the right words, but I hope this helps you remember that I’m here for you. Thank you for always being there for me."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read his note. It was a beautiful reminder that even though

Arda found it difficult to express himself verbally, he was always there through his actions. The journal was a symbol of his gratitude and affection—a testament to the bond we shared.

As I hugged him tightly, I felt a rare but genuine smile spread across his face.

It was as if he was finally allowing himself to feel the warmth of my support, even if he couldn’t always put it into words.

Love doesn’t always need to be spoken.

Sometimes, it can be found in the small, everyday actions, the silent gestures that spoke volumes.

And for us, that was enough.

[nezumeanie]

obey me c a s u a l t o u c h ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

no warnings | gn!mc | not proofread <_<

♢ in the hustle and bustle of the devildom on the weekends, you always find yourself pushing through crowds in the street markets to buy groceries for the week. after being bumped into for the umpteenth time, you decide to let your step fall behind lucifer’s, that way if you were to be separated you could still see his large head above the crowd and make your way back to him. sensing your presence move from beside him, lucifer stops walking turning to look at you. “make sure not to get lost” he puts a light hand on the small of your back to guide you in front of him as to not lose sight of you. occasionally, you’ll feel his hands on your shoulders moving you forward without letting you stray from him.

♢ you and mammon sit shoulder to shoulder staring at the black screen of his ddd. there wasn’t any reason to be nervous, but mammon was anxiously awaiting to hear from his agent if he had booked a new gig—an small role in a new d-drama. the acclamation was one thing, the money another, mammon hadn’t stopped talking abt it since his audition. finally his screen lit up: an email notification. he opened it slowly and yelled “we did it!!! we did it! oh man, you’re my good luck charm we gonna be so rich!!!!” he threw his arms around you and jumped in a circle, mammon’s happiness is your happiness as well.

♢ in front of the computer screen, one hand on the mouse other on the keyboard, levi kept giving you directions on where to go and what to do even though he said he would let you play the game yourself. “wait, wait if you turn around and walk through tht wall there’s a secret cave full of ss grade items! no, no turn around argh” he puts his hand on your shoulder and points in the opposite direction in which you were moving “literally it’s a wall covered in vines. i found it on accident my seventeenth time playing through it hahahah that was the round i completed the fastest…” his story is much harder to follow when his voice is this close to you, but you never want to miss his words.

♢ many food ingredients in the devildom remind you of things you can find back home in the human realm, so you decide to try and recreate a meal you already know. while stirring the pot, you feel someone approach you from behind “hmm? what is it that you’re making?” it’s satan it’s his head titled to the side. he had placed his hand on the counter trapping your waist between himself and the stove, his other hand placed on his hip in curiosity. his fingers tapped on the marble, his eyebrows furrowed and unfurrowed. you dipped the spoon in and brought it to his lips to taste.

♢ there were so many formal events held at diavolo’s castle you began wondering if it really was so imperative that you and everyone had to attend every single one. racing down the hallway, you hear asmo’s voice “oii your tag is sticking out. sigh, come here, come here!” you stop in your tracks, your hands shooting to the back of your formal attire. you can hear asmo chuckling. “let me see〜” one hand gracefully touches your side, the other you feel down your collar tucking your tag back into place. “this is perfect timing,” he says from behind you, “i need someone to help me zip my dress♪”

♢ without you asking, beel takes bottle from you hand and twists the lid off for you. “humans are so fragile” he mentions and hands it back to you, not tht you needed his help to open a bottle of raspberry juice. with that thought in mind, you managed to spilled some down your chin. are you a child? beel chuckles to himself, putting one hand on the top of your head, the other takes out a handkerchief and wipes it off for you. punctuating his handiwork with a head rub he adds “humans are so clumsy, too.” you drink your juice more carefully this time.

♢ a new cafe was opening downtown! the first hundred patrons would receive a mystery prize and a free parfait topping! while scrolling devilgram you saw the post and called belphie over to look. he places his head on your shoulder to look over your shoulder at your phone. “ah, im pretty sure that’s the same place i was talking to you about last week? when i said we should eat a strawberry parfait together” he lazily drapes his arm around your shoulder. though, you’re sure he did not ask you to eat desert together, maybe he had dreamt about it.

[jungle-angel]

Family Ties Are Stronger Than Time (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You're supposed to beon bedrest for a bit after just having had the boys so Rhett decides to take Amy with him to visit an old friend and learns something about a family member that shocks him

Notes: A very, very Happy Hannukah to all who celebrate, I feel bad I haven't done much but this has been sitting in the back of my brain for a while. I hope it came out well enough, I was nervous writing it but I'm hoping it came out well enough 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Warnings: Mentions of war, birth etc.

"Alright sweetheart," Rhett said to Amy. "You ready?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed excitedly.

She hopped down the steps of the general store you both owned with Rhett helping her down onto the snowy sidewalk and into the truck where he buckled her into her carseat. He placed the blue and gold box full of baked goods next to her, hoping that they wouldn't spill over on the ride out of town. He and Cecelia had painstakingly made them for three days, hoping that they turned out alright.

Down the roads they went, out of downtown and back to the more rural areas in town where ranches became a more common sight than buildings. They passed by the Waldorf school where Amy and Hannah both attended kindergarten and preschool respectively, the grounds now covered with snow and the farm across the street with it. Rhett had to laugh a little as he had lost count of how many times he had gone to the farm across from the school to help fix a tractor or help the farmers with their cows.

Finally, they came to a lonely little stretch of ranch, the old farmhouse sitting on top of a little hill with stretch after stretch of fence surrounding it. He pulled up to the garage and parked the truck, letting Amy out and taking the box with him.

"Go ahead Doodlebug," Rhett told her. "Go ring the doorbell."

Amy rang the little bell next to the door and in a split second it was opened by an elderly woman with white hair, her eyes lighting up when she saw Rhett and Amy.

"My sweet I didn't think you were coming!" she exclaimed happily.

"What, Sara? Ya'll thought we were gonna ignore ya'll?" Rhett chuckled.

"You.....you, you get in here, come, come in," Sara beckoned.

Rhett and Amy both went into the house and removed their coats and shoes. "Elie around at all?" Rhett asked.

"No, no, he went to go help Officer Joy or something," Sara told him. "Here, I'll fix you both something."

Rhett loved coming down to visit Sara. Ever since he was a little kid, he loved the way the elderly Polish woman made him feel welcome in her home and had even taught him a little bit of her language. Sara and Elie Abramowicz were as close with the Abbotts as the Duttons were, more like family than friends.

"Where is (y/n)?" Sara asked.

"She's all holed up in bed," Rhett chuckled. "Boys were born two days ago."

"Ah and on the first night of Hannukah no less," Sara said with pride.

"Oh, speaking of which," Rhett said, seating himself on the old, rickety barstool at the kitchen counter. "Made these a few days ago."

He gave Sara the box and when she opened it, her face lit up. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Rhett laughed before he and Sara hugged. "Didn't burn the kitchen down makin'em either," he laughed.

"Oh Rhett," Sara sighed. "You know I haven't been able to make sufganiyot since Mama passed away. Thank you. As if Elie and I didn't owe your family enough already."

"Sara what the hell are ya'll even talkin about?" Rhett asked her. "You don't owe us nothin."

"Oh but we do," Sara insisted. "And it all goes back to your Oma."

"My grandma?" Rhett asked.

Sara nodded.

"Wh.....what'd Oma Heidi have to do with anything?"

Sara scrunched her deeply wrinkled brow. "You mean to tell me that your Papa never told you?" she asked him.

Rhett shook his head.

"Here," Sara said, putting the box of fresh sufganiyot next to the toaster. "You stay and I tell you."

Rhett stayed put, keeping a careful watch on Amy who was in the living room playing with Elie and Sara's boarhound, Boris. He waited for Sara to finish making a mug full of heady black tea before she seated herself across from him.

"You know that Elie and I used to live in Warsaw?"

Rhett nodded.

"I remember a long, long time ago after the invasion," Sara began. "We were trapped in our city like animals, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Elie and I, we were so young, fifteen and seventeen years old and in terrible danger. Every night we all prayed for a miracle."

Rhett could almost see it before his very eyes and the terrible scene that played out in his mind like a movie.

"Your Oma had come to us with a group of people who claimed they could help," Sara continued. "French and German resisters who were bent on getting people out of the hands of the Nazis. We didn't trust them at first, but quickly we realized we had no choice. "Six hundred of us fled from Warsaw in 1943," Sara explained. "Six hundred. We went on foot, by rail and by truck, all the way to a safe place where we hid."

The more Rhett listened to the story, the more the shock ran through his very core. Royal had never said anything about his mother or about what she had done before leaving Switzerland.

"You see Rhett," Sara said. "It is because of your Oma that we and so many others lived. That is why Elie and I remain close with your family. After we came to America, your Oma and I remained very close friends, so much so that she came to fetch me the night you were born. I made a promise to your Oma that I would watch over you when she passed Rhett.....and Elie and I intend to keep that promise."

Rhett could feel his eyes burning. He had never known. "Why didn't Dad say anything if he knew?" Rhett asked her.

"Do not blame your father Rhett," Sara answered. "That was your Oma's wish. Your father knew how much pain she had gone through for others and didn't wish to inflict that pain on anyone else."

He felt a few loose tears falling from his eyes when he heard Sara's story. "Wish she was still here," he croaked.

"Ah but she is," Sara assured him. "I know she is Rhett."

It took him a while to process the story he had just heard, but after a while, Rhett felt an immense sense of pride, knowing how strong his ties were to the people who were like family to him.

Rhett heard a truck pulling up a little while later when who should appear but you and Royal with Hannah, each of you carrying a little carseat that safely held Tatum and Tanner, your twins.

"Hey Sara," Royal called as he entered. "We come bearing a Hannukah gift for you and Elie."

"Royal Abbott, you march into my house while your son is here...."

Royal laughed, unable to make out the rest of what she had been saying.

You and Sara talked a good long while while Rhett talked things over with Royal. Surprisingly enough, Royal was more than understanding about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell ya'll sooner son," Royal said. "I saw how much pain it had caused Oma.......I didn't want any of that pain passed onto you guys."

Rhett tried hard to hold back the tears in front of his father but he couldn't. Royal pulled him in and held his son when he saw that look in Rhett's eyes.

When all was said and done and everything had settled, you and Rhett gathered in the living room with Sara and Elie when he had returned, the two of them absolutely head over heels for your boys. Cecelia had joined you a little while later along with the rest of Sara and Elie's family. The grandkids all taught Amy and Hannah how to play dreidel and the delighted shrieks and shouts that came from the living room had you and Rhett in the best of moods.

"Think they'll sleep ok tonight?" you asked.

"No doubt darlin," Rhett chuckled. "Just wait till Christmas Eve."

You half laughed and half groaned at the thought, knowing Amy and her Dutton cousins would all be up till some ungodly hour, having eaten all the candy in their stockings. You and Rhett shared a sweet kiss as you watched the kids. Rhett looked out the living room window and saw that one of the stars was shining a little brighter that night, mouthing a silent "thank you" to his Oma Heidi, who he was sure, was watching over you all.

[lordgrimwing]

Findekáno's Tattoo

This was a part of Alqualondë that Findekáno had never been to before. 

Really, he could say that about most of the Telerin city. He and his siblings and cousins were mostly interested in enjoying the beach when they ventured down from Tirion. They’d been to Olwë’s house (not really much of a palace, certainly nothing like Grandfather Finwë’s home) a couple times, too, what with Uncle Arafinwë marrying his daughter. But as a whole, Findekáno  felt half lost as he searched for the shop he was looking for.

He’d gotten the name of the shop from an elf in Tirion who specialized in adorning the body. A common enough craft among the Noldor, though his parents would have objected to their son utilizing her services, given her reputation. He agreed with them on that, though more because she was bound to know about the family drama than because she was too liberal with her needle and ink.

No, no. For this he had to find an outsider, and Mórowen of the Teleri came well recommended.

Or, at least, recommended.

Findekáno stopped to squint at a driftwood sign polished nearly blank by the combination of saltwater spray and the fine sand carried by the wind and foot traffic all over the city. This looked like the shop he’d been directed to. The only way to know was to go inside and face whatever awaited.

Pushing aside the strings of seashells decorating the entrance, he stepped into the small shop.

“In a minute.” The sharp words came from a black-hair elf, uncommon for a Teleri, hunched over a low table.

“Mhph,” the elf laying face-down on the table said as Mórowen tapped her tattooing comb into their back.

Embarrassed (and more than a little flustered at seeing someone half naked), Findekáno ducked back into the street to wait.

Well over a minute passed before the Teleri, still indecently underdressed, walked out, accompanied by a taller elf he hadn’t noticed. The freshly tattooed patron offered the waiting prince a casual greeting gesture that broke off with a wince. The bigger elf laughed and then they were gone.

He hesitated at the lintel. Did he really want to do this?

“Come, come,” Mórowen said. “Don’t block the light.”

“Hello.” He tried to calm his nerves as he stepped into the tiny shop, more of a shack compared to what he was used to. “I heard you craft adornments for the skin?”

She snorted. “If your clothes or face were not enough, I’d know you're a Noldo now. Yes, I do.”

He stumbled over his tongue. The last time he’d been this embarrassed had to be when he slipped at the feast and landed in Maitimo’s lap, spilling wine all over both of them. Their fathers saw the whole thing and Maitimo quickly excused himself and fled.

“Sit down.” Mórowen pointed at a three-legged stool next to the table. “What do you want?”

It wobbled dangerously under him. “I-” there was no going back now, he’d come all this way and he’d see this through. “I’d like a tattoo.”

“And every fisher wants Ossë to not break their nets. Do you know what you want?”

He had the sudden urge to hide his hands behind him. The way her eyes flicked up and down made him feel like she was picking which spot of exposed skin to set her au to first. His answer came out in a rush.  “A name.”

She sat back on her work stool, tapping one finger on the table. “A name?” Her eyebrows rose. 

He wasn’t sure if it was mocking. He thought it could be. “Yes. Maitimo.” 

From a pocket, he pulled a scrap of linen paper. He’d drawn the name out to look exactly the way he wanted, with extra flourishes. He stopped short of including hearts, but he’d wanted to.

Mórowen took the paper and inspected his work. “Maitimo,” she repeated and then read out each tangwa and ómatehta. “You want it to look like this?”

“Yes,” he insisted, defensive. 

She shrugged. “Where?

“My side.” He’d thought for a long time about that. The tattoo had to go somewhere he would never casually reveal. “Just above my hip.”

“You’ll have to pull your shirt up,” she said it like she expected him to run out in a panic at the notion.

“Okay. Can we start now?”

She nodded. “I have time.”

In the course of a minute, Findekáno found himself lying on his side on the surprisingly comfortable table, his shirt bunched up under his arm and his pants pushed low on his hips. Mórowen’s hands were surprisingly warm against his skin but he couldn’t help flinching nervously with every foreign touch.

“Maitimo, Maitimo,” she murmured as she put ink to her comb. She paused with the comb’s teeth almost touching him.  

He bit his lip and closed his eyes, bracing.

“Maitimo,” she repeated. “Isn’t he your cousin?”

Findekáno froze. “Half-cousin.”

“Aren’t your fathers feuding?”

Why was this Teleri, of all Teleri, reasonably informed on Noldorin politics? He thought they all had little interest in what happened beyond the shore. What would he have to do to convince her to forget about the whole thing and never speak a word of this to anyone? Father would be livid if he found out, and Maitimo might get in trouble too if Fëanáro heard about it.

“Eh, but perhaps I am mistaken,” she said and tapped the needles into his skin.

By the time Mórowen put her comb away and wiped his skin with a damp rag, Findekáno was almost regretting the whole thing. He wasn’t sure he could make the hike back up the mountain without his side tearing open. Even breathing made it hurt.

“Wash with cool water three times between minglings and pat it dry with rabbit fur.”

“Why?” He couldn’t imagine touching anywhere near the tattoo for at least a year.

She laughed. “You’ll know why if you don’t listen.”

“Now,” she hummed, helping him adjust his clothes so they fit right, “when your Maitimo is ready, send him to me for the other half.”

And with that, she bundled him out of her shop.

He stood in the street, sand accumulating inside his sandals again. He was not looking forward to the walk home. Maybe he could find someone in the market who would be driving a wagon back to Tirion and he could ride with them.

Already yearning for sleep, Findekáno set off toward the sounds of people arguing over prices and the good-natured conversations that seemed to be the hallmark of markets everywhere. He couldn’t resist tracing a finger over the name permanently inked into his skin as he went.

[acridcandy]

* ❥ ⎯⎯ hi there, my name is selene ( she / her, 21+ ) and today i'm bringing you your queen s, na aera! she's 25, a business administration student at snu and fashion and lifestyle influencer, part of the s 'n u subplot trinity, and is currently headed on the path to self-destruction now that gossip girl has put a target on her back. fun! i have her dossier ready which has a profile and background on her, but i'll put the tl;dr version that was on her application down below, along with some plots that i can think of! please like this post to plot and i'll head your way, or you can add me on disc @ paraselene woman#8196 which is currently preferred more than tumblr ims. thank you for your time and i'm excited to play out some mess with you all! ♡

⏤ sparknotes bio ;

saw na aera in seoul. they were playing tennis. i think they’re an student and influencer now? a lot of people say they’re kinda deceptive but they seemed super charming to me, tbh. they really look like cho miyeon and remind me of park gulmi though wtf. thought you might want to know because i remember your post about them that said she blackmailed a professor who had an affair with a student. still can’t believe that happened 1 month ago.

oh, how the mighty fall. while aera's life hasn't always been cozy, especially with an egoistic mother, she always had her father to depend on and alleviate her pain. born with beautiful looks and pleasant singing tone to boot, she was scouted on the streets of seoul as a young tween and trained under the top entertainment industry in hopes of becoming an idol. while not making the opportunity of debuting in their next girl group, she left the company after 4 years only with a growing number of followers on her social media due to the rumors, and popularity that spilled from online into real life. this is where she cultivates her sweet persona, one that drastically differs from her actual personality that she keeps under tight wraps. after taking a couple of years off from university once her mother passes away after aera turns 21, it's only a few years later that she finds herself becoming one of seoul national's most well known current students, and well beloved. it feels like she doesn't get enough time to savor her status before life falls to collapse. she finds out that one of her friends is actually her step-sister by way of her father, and then gossip girl marking her return by spotlighting herself and her friends, which internally shakes her to her core ⏤ especially since she was able to evade her watchful eyes prior to her disappearance. after the post about the tumultuous relationship between her, her sister and prince charming goes viral she chooses to power through the fretfulness, pretending as if it were nothing even though others start to look at her at a different light. the cracks in her armor fully show once gossip girl ups the anti to expose her best kept secret about the professor, which brings her budding career to a screeching halt despite an attempt to still play the victim. aera has always adored attention, but with gossip girl wreaking havoc in her life she feels as if she's spiraling towards full destruction ⏤ she's lost her mother, feels like she lost her father, losing her sister and flame, and now an attempt on her career. however, aera would be damned to give up anything without a proper fight.

⏤ currently ;

the cracks in her formerly impenetrable armor are clearly showing now. usually hard to anger, she's prone to emotional outbursts every now and then and is a little less friendly to the general public, not knowing who she can trust anymore. but her motto is to ignore it as if it never happened, despite the fact that isn't working out so hot for her.

just got off her one month "reflection" period on social media that was mandated by her management company. her following has taken an obvious hit, and it probably would have done her better to reflect for a longer period, but

girl is escapist central right now. drugs, drinking, sex, any vice you name it ⏤ anything to get away from this hellhole for at least a couple of hours or so. queen of also making bad decisions for temporary satisfaction.

⏤ plots and ideas ;

looking for the monet de haan to her julian calloway ⏤ moreso in the sense that someone who is close to her and she doesn't have to pretend with, but also fuels her bad decision making. a tight but vicious team to anything that could potentially stand between their goals.

in the same vein: party friends who also enable her hedonist ways and she returns the favor, her favorite group rn

someone who she really valued that now looks at her differently since the gossip girl's posts and has acted accordingly. she'd do anything to get them back on her side

former victims of her vindictive nature: maybe people who have tried to steal her thrown or blackmail her, others who have also tried to get prince charming's attention, rivals, people who just came across her on a bad day, whatever!

a specific friends w benefits / fuck buddy type of relationship that she loves to hit up to release stress. maybe things are starting to get complicated between them?

even though her mother is out of the picture, her mother's family is not. maybe they're trying to find a suitor for her to continue the family bloodline and are trying to marry her away to someone? maybe she doesn't like this dude because of that?

someone that's worried about her and is trying to help her get her act together?

and ofc the usual of general friends, ex lovers, cousins, enemies, etc.

tbh i think i'm a lot better at brainstorming but thank you for reading this far if you did!

[thepie-eyedpiper]

The Blackest Rose

If you were to ask me when or where I first saw her, I wouldn't be able to tell you with any amount of certainty. I could only say that by the time she first allowed me to approach her, I had already seen her many times before.

You see, she is quite shy, much the same way I am. That would perhaps explain why I am usually alone when I see her, although I have seen her at times in shopping malls and other crowded places.

Her appearance makes it easy to pick her out of a crowd. She has skin that is creamy white, in contrast to her long black hair, which falls about her shoulders and frames a face of innocence and open beauty. Her large eyes are grey, matching the colour of the dresses she always wears.

The first time that I can remember getting more than just a passing glimpse of her was on a cool October night. A wind-driven rainstorm had blown through earlier in the evening, but the skies had cleared and a bright, crescent moon dominated a sky laden with stars.

Rainwater still meandered in the streets toward sewer grates that were virtually choked with dead leaves.

As I walked, my footfalls echoed back to me from the walls of nearby buildings, lost momentarily behind the sound of a passing car.

A harsh yellow light spilled down over me from humming streetlamps.

I looked across the street and saw her there, looking into a storefront window, her back to me, one of her delicate hands resting on the wet pane of glass.

She must have heard the slowing of my footsteps then, because she turned and saw me. A slight smile played at the corners of her mouth. Perhaps, I thought, she recognized me from our previous brief encounters, just as I had recognized her.

I faced her then, my hands self-consciously jammed into the pockets of my jeans.

She stepped away from the storefront into the direct light of a streetlamp, her flat-soled shoes making no sound, her every movement flawless, beautiful, and eerily fluid. A cool breeze ruffled the bottom of her long dress and lifted her raven-black hair from her shoulders, blowing a few wisps across her face. With a graceful sweep of her hand, she pushed the hair back behind her ear.

I managed to say "Hello," although I thought my voice wavered and sounded too weak to span the distance between us.

She responded with a tiny, tentative wave, and that same half-smile.

Summoning my courage, I took a step toward her, but as I did her smile vanished, replaced by a look of growing apprehension. I lifted my hand to her in a placating gesture, but she was no longer looking at me. She was watching the approach of a transport truck, its headlight beams sweeping across her startled face.

Then the truck was between us, its passing seeming to take forever.

In a wake of spray lifted from the wet roadway and a flash of red taillights, the truck was gone. So was the girl in the grey dress, although the duration of the truck's passing was in reality no more than the span of a few heartbeats.

She has a flair for these mysterious exits, often leaving me wondering if I'd seen her at all. The most poignant example of this occurred on a spring day, two years later.

I had just boarded a bus and was walking down the aisle. As I neared the back, I saw a girl who I had recently met at a party, through a mutual friend. I had only conversed with her for a short time before I was pulled away to take part in some long-winded, alcohol-induced discussion, which as it turned out never really required my participation. I had meant to resume my conversation with her, but never ended up getting the opportunity…until now.

She was sitting alone.

As I approached, she looked up and smiled, but my attention was now focused over her shoulder, where I had spotted another familiar face, that of a beautiful girl wearing grey, whose long black hair and milky white skin existed in a captivating visual symbiosis, each serving to accentuate the other.

I walked past the smiling girl as if I hadn't seen her, and sat down beside the one in grey, who was looking out the window and hadn't given any indication that she had noticed me yet. My heart was galloping in my chest like a runaway horse, and vainly I tried to rein it in. I chanced a look over, and found that she was still looking outside, her hands folded in the lap of her dress.

As the bus picked up speed, a breeze from an open window played through her hair, the smell of which was intoxicating and did little to help slow my heart rate. It was a blend of flowers and spice; redolent of honeysuckle and cloves, I thought; but that wasn't quite right. There was a hint of some other scent that I couldn't seem to put my finger on. It was very familiar and brought with it a strong sense of nostalgia. I suddenly began to feel light-headed, and my stomach lurched alarmingly as a wave of vertigo swept over me. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to relax. Soon the dizziness passed, and by degrees I felt my composure returning. Even the fragrance of her hair seemed to have receded somewhat.

I opened my eyes to discover that I sat alone. Only the essence of her hair remained, carried to me on a breeze from the open window.

After that I only saw her from a distance, and only for fleeting moments at a time. Once I spotted her across a movie theatre; once in a crowded bar; once at a subway station, as we stood on opposite platforms while a train hurtled past between us.

One February evening during the worst snowstorm of the year, I saw her walking down my street. She wore a hooded mantle over her dress, which she held tightly around her throat, her head bent to the driving snow.

She looked up and saw me standing at my front window, but neither did she acknowledge me nor slow her pace.

Long after the storm had swept away any trace of her passing, I stood, staring out the frost-lined window at the swirling snow.

Of course, I couldn't predict that this was leading toward what would become the most significant of my encounters with her.

It was a magnificent day in June, and the sun's radiance was cast down from an equally resplendent sky.

I was walking by a park where I used to play as a child. It was empty. I sat down on a weather-beaten bench and stretched out my legs. Before long, I sensed movement at the edge of my vision, a swirl of black, white and grey against a background of red and green.

There she was, standing across the street in front of a rose garden, her long hair cascading over bare shoulders. She reached down and picked a single flower.

I remained motionless, scarcely daring to breathe, afraid of frightening her away, as I had always done before.

She turned toward the park, caressing her cheek with the petals of a rose as black as sable.

Perplexed, I looked back at the garden, and saw that all the roses there were red.

She crossed the street into the park like a ghost, so light of step and smooth of stride that she projected the illusion that she was somehow floating instead of walking. She hummed to herself as she went, one hand moving slowly with the melody, the sound sweetly inviting, almost hypnotic. She was the picture of elegance, an earthbound angel. My senses drank in the sight and sound of her. I was entirely captivated.

She stopped suddenly in front of a set of swings; her melody abruptly cut off in mid-note. After a moment of reflection, she turned and sat down on one of the swings. For several minutes she just sat there quietly, pondering the black rose she held in her small hands. Then she lifted her head and looked directly at me. She had known I was there all along.

Without looking away from me, she reached out and took hold of the chains as if she were about to start swinging, but instead of pushing back with her legs, simply lifted her feet off the ground.

The creaking of the chain links seemed like the only sound in the universe as she drifted slowly back and forth. Still she watched me.

I stood up, and on unsteady legs started moving cautiously toward her. I feared that even during the instant of blinking my eyes she might disappear. But she didn't. As I drew near she remained passive, her face displaying no emotion.

I stopped beside her and cleared my suddenly dry throat. "Hello…again," I managed.

She looked up at me through dancing grey eyes and offered me her coy smile. Then she scissor-kicked her legs like an impatient child, and her lips pulled back over perfect white teeth in a smile so shockingly beautiful that I felt as though my heart might burst. In retrospect, that was probably the happiest moment of my life.

Her eyes said, "Swing me." She then turned her attention away from me, and waited.

I had nothing against which to measure the level of acceptance she had just accorded me.

I walked behind her. I was so close to her then that I could have reached out and touched her. My fingers itched to feel the softness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin; I longed to wrap my arms around her and kiss her neck, her cheek, her lips.

Above all else though, I wanted to gain her trust, so fighting the desire to reach my hands around her slender waist, I took hold of either side of the wooden seat instead.

The smell of her hair was maddening. Although the essence of flowers and spice were all around me, it was that underlying scent, both intimate and comforting, and whose origin still eluded me, which drove me to distraction.

I backed up, pulling the swing with me and lifting her from the ground. As I released the swing, her hair brushed against my face.

The world shimmered in front of my eyes, its features distorting; objects somehow lost their cohesiveness, blending together in a swirl of liquid colour then separating again into new shapes.

I found myself standing in the middle of a bustling amusement park. I could see children's rides and games of chance, and in the background a Ferris wheel, turning lazily against an azure sky.

I took in all the sounds of the place: the droning of voices; the music; the loud metallic wailing of roller coaster cars co-mingled with the shrieks of those within, as they plummeted down a steep slope; the luring calls of the barkers and carnies.

Out of the crowd of milling people emerged a man and a woman. Between them was young boy of perhaps three years, each of his hands enfolded in one of theirs.

I recognized at once that the man was my father and the woman, my mother. I glanced down at the child's face and saw that I was looking at myself. I was suddenly that child again, innocent, and safe from the corruption of the world.

My eyes blurred with tears, and in that absence of vision I became more aware of that smell in her hair that had so defied recognition. In this setting, it was easy to associate the sweet smell of candied apples and cotton candy, a smell I found to be distinctly reminiscent of my youth.

I blinked back the tears from my eyes, wanting only to return to a time where everything I saw filled me with a sense of wonderment.

But as my vision cleared I found I was looking down at an empty swing, swaying back and forth, the chain links creaking in time with its movement.

I looked beyond the swing and saw her standing there, watching me intently as she smelled the black rose.

"I'm sorry," was all I could think of to say.

She turned and ran.

After a moment of hesitation, I was after her.

She ran with deceptive speed in the direction of a huge elm tree, her feet kicking up the bottom of her dress, her dark hair trailing behind like the mane of a wild horse. She disappeared around the back of the elm, but not before looking back to see if I followed.

When I reached the tree I stopped, placed my hands on the trunk, then carefully looked around to the other side, expecting to see her there. She wasn't. I leaned my head against the tree, closed my eyes in frustration, and said quietly to myself, "I don't even know your name."

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew she was there, the fragrance of her hair having given her away. I turned and she stood before me, her large eyes as scintillating as gemstones.

She inclined toward me, gently resting a hand on my shoulder, and in a voice as soft as velvet, whispered a word into my ear.

It was fortunate that I was already leaning against the tree, because my legs began to give way beneath me. Instantly, my head felt like it was full of sand, and I sensed consciousness beginning to slip away. In the final moments before the world went black, I saw a beautiful girl dressed in grey, her arm extended toward me, her hand holding a black rose.

When I came around, I found I was lying beside a dying elm tree, at the edge of a park where I used to play as a child.

The word she whispered to me changed everything.

I know now that she wants me, and always has. She has never feared me, but chose to appear as I wanted her to, knowing that I would become obsessed and desire her over anyone else.

She offered me the black rose, and in taking it I fear I would have given myself completely over to her.

Now that I know her name, I can't help but think of her more often; and the more I think of her, the more susceptible I become to her charms.

Whenever I see her now, she entices me with her radiant smile, and bids me to take the rose.

She comes to my bed as I lie awake at night. I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck, and the soft caress of what could only be the black rose against my back. But I pretend to be asleep.

It would be so easy to just give in to her, and she is confident that I will.

I know that I would feel safe in her arms, but I also know that it would be a false sense of security. I know that she would remain with me always, but when I became old and began to feel the last grains of life slipping through my fingers, she would provide no comfort, leaving me to spend my final hours bitter and resentful.

I must never accept her black rose, but continue to turn away from her.

She is ageless, and I fear her more than death itself.

Her name is Loneliness.

[deepbluexocean]

"Come on now," Ocean said. He was kneeling beside a car parked on the street near Town Hall, reaching underneath it trying to catch a cat that had just run underneath it. The cat had appeared scared but generally in good health, and this was a town of witches, so it wouldn't have surprised Ocean if the cat was someone's familiar. Even so, it seemed skittish, like it was lost, and Ocean couldn't just ignore that. His plan was to get the cat, take it home, and then try and find the owner, but...well, it wasn't going as planned. Looking underneath the car, Ocean sighed; every time he almost had the cat, it moved away. "Please," Ocean pleaded. "I just want to drink my milkshake and go home, but I can't just leave you."

"Come on now," Ocean said. He was kneeling beside a car parked on the street near Town Hall, reaching underneath it trying to catch a cat that had just run underneath it. The cat had appeared scared but generally in good health, and this was a town of witches, so it wouldn't have surprised Ocean if the cat was someone's familiar. Even so, it seemed skittish, like it was lost, and Ocean couldn't just ignore that. His plan was to get the cat, take it home, and then try and find the owner, but...well, it wasn't going as planned. Looking underneath the car, Ocean sighed; every time he almost had the cat, it moved away. "Please," Ocean pleaded. "I just want to drink my milkshake and go home, but I can't just leave you." Work had been rough today - a customer had treated him like an idiot just because Ocean was quiet - and he had indulged in a milkshake despite the chill in the air. And all he wanted to do was drink it as he walked home, the milkshake serving as a distraction from the fact that his bike was still ruined.

While he reached for the cat, Ocean had set his milkshake down on the sidewalk, but someone nearly knocked it over as they walked by; Ocean barely caught it in time, and this startled the cat, who immediately ran underneath the next car. "Wow," Ocean said aloud as he stood, walking over to the car. It was fancy and looked expensive, and while Ocean didn't even know how to drive, he was still impressed. But right now he needed to focus on the cat, so he set the milkshake on top of the car and knelt down again. And as he did so, Ocean saw a woman on the other side of the car, the cat immediately rushing into her arms - it had found its owner. Good, Ocean thought, a big smile on his face, but it didn't last because that was when a gust of wind came through and knocked his milkshake over. it happened so fast, and Ocean couldn't believe it as he saw the spill all over the car. "No no no no no no NO!" Ocean exclaimed, but it was too late. Of course this had happened, of course it had, and now Ocean was furious with himself. Why did he always mess things up? Looking toward Town Hall, Ocean considered just leaving, but that wasn't him; he couldn't just act like this hadn't happened, and he would need to come clean to the owner of this car and apologize.

While he reached for the cat, Ocean had set his milkshake down on the sidewalk, but someone nearly knocked it over as they walked by; Ocean barely caught it in time, and this startled the cat, who immediately ran underneath to cower behind the motorcycle that was in the next parking spot. "Wow," Ocean said aloud as he stood, walking over to it. It was fancy and looked expensive, and while Ocean didn't even know how to drive a car let alone a motorcycle, he was still impressed. But right now he needed to focus on the cat, so he set the milkshake on the sidewalk - it felt like a bad idea to put it on the motorcycle - and knelt down again. And as he did so, Ocean saw a woman on the other side of the motorcycle, the cat immediately rushing into her arms - it had found its owner. Good, Ocean thought, a big smile on his face, standing up. He took a step back, admiring the motorcycle again and imagining the owner, and he turned back to face Town Hall, wondering if they were inside. As he looked up a the building, Ocean heard a couple walking behind him and talking about the motorcycle, and when Ocean turned back around, he saw that they were touching it. Uh oh, he thought - Ocean had a bad feeling about this. Sure enough, the motorcycle started to waver, and instead of trying to stop it, the couple just ran off. Everything happened so fast then: Ocean lunged forward, knocking his milkshake all over the sidewalk (though he didn't care about that now) and grabbing the handlebars of the bike, managing to keep it from hitting the pavement at the last second. But the bike was heavy, and it already felt like he was losing his hold of it.

Location: Town Hall For: Anyone | @cardinalhq Character: Aristotle McIntyre

Aris stood outside the town hall, the sturdy brick building looming in front of him. It had been almost two decades since he’d roamed these streets, and now, at 28, he was back— the Ducati 900SS parked beside him, its polished chrome glinting in the sunlight. He could feel the weight of nostalgia hanging in the air as he recalled his mother’s stories about this place, how she used to bring him when she filled out paperwork for assistance - how she tried to pretend she wasn't crying when she was denied.

He adjusted his leather jacket, a far cry from the boyish clothes he wore as a child, and took a deep breath. “Okay, Aris, just register the bike and get out,” he murmured to himself, hoping the familiarity of the town hall wouldn’t drag him too deep into the past. The sound of voices drifted from within, laughter and chatter mingling in a way that felt both comforting and foreign.

“Time to face the music,” he added with a wry smile, pushing back the flicker of nerves in his stomach. He stepped up to the entrance, the old wooden door creaking as he pushed it open. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of paper and faintly of lemon-scented cleaner, grounding him in the present. Hopefully no one remembered him as the trouble-maker that used to shoplift -- (it had been so he and his mother had something to eat...)

As he approached the registration desk, he caught sight of a few familiar faces—townsfolk he remembered -- maybe. They didn't seem to know him either.

“Just here to register a bike,” he said, his voice steady as he approached the clerk. “Nothing too complicated.” His name was different. He was different. No one would know him as Keyelin Locke's son.

[l-pandamatic-l]

Hello, The child had come..

Could i get a Rise!Mikey x reader? Where the reader gets lost nd mikey finds them, and then mikey and them get to know eachother- and then the boys found out....

Basically what we've been doing.

Hell yeah! Alright, so, Rise! Mikey x GN! Reader where Mikey finds them during his patrol. They’re lost and so he helps them out, but the boys find out and he never hears the end of it:

You had been walking around for hours at least. It was dark and cold, and you were getting really scared. You had no idea where you were or what happened. You just remember walking home and you had tried to play some music. And when you finally got it working, you looked up and realized you had no idea where you were. You looked around panicked and started walking, and you’ve been walking since, trying to find anything similar. A street, a house, heck, even just a puddle on the floor! But nothing. You started to cry. You hadn’t noticed until you were sobbing, setting yourself down on the nasty floor of an alleyway between ‘New York’s best pizza’ and ‘Best Pizza in NYC’ 

You didn’t really know how loud you were until you heard a loud thump, followed by a strange voice saying: “Oh no, dude, are you okay?”

Startled, you wiped your tears with your shaky hands. “I d-don’t have any mo-money. Please leave me al-lone!” 

The voice hopped down in front of you, though you couldn’t see him since the streetlight in the alley was broken and nothing else was on at this time of night. 

“Don’t be scared! I don’t want money. I was just… exploring. And saw you. And got a little worried-“

“Exploring?” You scoffed, “Who explores at night? In the dark? On the roof?” You asked, not fully believing him at all. 

He sighed and stepped to the side, the light from a nearby store just barely lighting the alley enough for you to see him. “HOLY CRAP!” You squealed in fright, as he followed suit and jumped back. 

“Sorry! Sorry! Not judging just… what are You?” You ask, reaching forward as he chuckled nervously. 

“Well I’m not human. That’s obvious. 

“Yeah! No crap!”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright! Okay! I saved your life so I’m not hostile. Don't be scared! My name’s Mikey…”

—————————————

That was the first time you two had met. From then on, you were inseparable. 

Mikey was glued to your hip night and day, around the lair and even when you were out in day, you’d see him lurking around, waving happily. Much to your annoyance, however, whenever you were trying to concentrate in school. 

For a while now, however, you had decided to keep your first ever secret from Mikey. You had a bit of a crush on him. You had a suspicion that his brother’s might know, however. 

For instance, when Mikey had accidentally tumbled off the dance machine and fallen over you with his dorky smile. Thankfully he didn't see the red that covered your face and the big dizzy grin that held on for quite a bit afterwards. But his brothers did. And you never heard the end of it. Leo’s smirk was still ingrained in your memory. 

There was another instance as well. Mikey had just finished a patrol with his brothers when they walked in on you, with a big orange sweatshirt on. One that just so happened to be Mikey’s. You had spilled something on yourself and it was the only clean thing you could find laying around. But it was still embarrassing. 

—————————————

Mikey had never thought about you two that way but lately his brothers just wouldn’t leave him alone about it. Leo constantly teased him About it, and while Raph joined in, Donnie would start chattering about the likeliness of the feelings being reciprocated. Altogether, Mikey was just a mess. But it would always melt as soon as he saw you. His best friend and his reason for joy almost every day. 

—————————————

I could finish this romantically, leave it platonic, or I could just let all of you suffer with some angst to go with it. You choose. >:)

[wolfsclothing6]

“Hey dad, do you know what’s going on with Ed? He hasn’t been there for any of our college classes this whole week and he hadn’t been answering his phone either.”

“Maybe he’s not feeling too well? I don’t know what else would keep him from attending his classes.” John says, trying to assure his son that his friend is alright.

“I thought that might have been it but yesterday I saw this older guy parking his truck in their driveway. The way he went about it almost looked like he lived there or something. They couldn’t have just moved out without telling anyone, right?”

John frowns, he didn’t think it was likely, surely Ed’s father, Hank, would have mentioned something about that beforehand. Besides John hadn’t seen any moving trucks at their place.

“Maybe he’s just some relative staying over with them?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right dad, it’s still so weird though… I’ve seen him smoking a cigar in front of Ed’s house when I was on my way home from class and the way he stared at me just gave me the goosebumps..”

John nodded, now that Will had mentioned it, he had noticed a few odd looking characters like that around the neighborhood over these past couple days. All of them large, older, cigar smoking men with grey beards on their faces, who stared straight at him whenever he passed them on the street.

“I think I know what you mean son, I saw someone like that yesterday. Guy was built like a truck and looked like he might have gotten lost on his way to some country fair with that whole cowboy getup. But the strangest thing was that when I took a look at his face, it almost seemed familiar in a way.”

John still couldn’t figure out why he thought that though, he would have definitely remembered seeing someone like that before. Even now he was having trouble getting rid of the mental image of the man’s enormous gut that spilled over his belt and his huge, hirsute, gorilla arms. He must have really enjoyed showing those off, why else would he be wearing nothing underneath that skimpy leather vest? But there was something about the man’s face, something in his eyes, maybe underneath all those wrinkles and that wild, greying beard he really did look like someone he knew? John didn’t dwell on that though, not thinking much of it at the time or even now.

“Exactly! Same with that guy I saw living in Ed’s place, he’s exactly what I would expect Ed to look like if he ever turned into some redneck once he got older. Maybe he really is just a relative of theirs. I dunno, I think I’m going to go and get ready for my classes, hopefully Ed will show up today.”

“Alright son, I’ll see you later.” John says, waving his son off as he leaves for class. John sits and thinks about the conversation they just had, wondering if he should go see if Hank and Ed are home. Standing up he looks through the window, there is an old, beat up truck parked in driveway, John doesn’t recall them ever owning one and figures that it must belong to Ed’s visiting uncle, that’s probably who that man is.

Suddenly he sees their front door opening as the very man he’d just been thinking about steps outside, wearing a blue flannel vest with nothing underneath and smoking a fat, long cigar.. As he sees the man making his way to his car John decides that this would be a perfect opportunity to chat him up and clear up everything.

John hurries out, waving the older gentleman down before he can slide inside the car. “Hey there!” John calls out, jogging up to him. The older man just grunts a greeting. Being this close to him John can see that the man does look a lot like Hank, so maybe he was right about him being his brother. “I’m John, I live across the street from you guys.” he says while stretching out his hand. The older man wraps his meaty fingers around it and gives it a firm shake, still not saying anything. “I was wondering how Ed was doing. My son mentioned that it’s been a few days since he last showed up for any his college classes. Had he fallen ill or something?.”

“Mornin’ neighbor, Ed doin’ mighty fine the last I’ve seen ‘im” the man lets out a rambunctious chuckle, still holding John’s hand within his furry paw. If John didn’t know better he would have thought that the man was actually trying pull him closer against his massive, barrel chest. The air between them started filling with cigar smoke and John immediately noted how that must have been the same brand as the one that cowboy from earlier had been smoking. Suddenly he found himself so enamored by the smell that it didn’t even occur to him how strange it was that he still remembered it after getting just a faint whiff a couple days ago. John saw the man locking his lips around the stogie, sucking on it until its tip turned bright red and as he opened his mouth to let out all the smoke, John found himself opening his as well, except to suck in as much of it as he could. But only a few billows made it past his throat before a series of brutal, loud coughs took over his body.

Once they were over John shook his head and tried to subtly pull away, acting as if the last couple moments didn’t happen at all. “Um, right… if you see Hank could you ask him to give me a call please? And let Ed know that my son’s been feeling concerned about him if that’s okay?” John asks, finally getting his hand back from the larger older man. “Well, I reckon ya could ask ‘em yourself, Pops is right there in the backyard with his buddies.” the man says. “Oh that’s great, I’ll go do that then, thank you!” John hurries away, taking in deep breaths of fresh air to clear up his head as he gets further away from the cigar smoking bear.

John makes his way around Hank’s house and sees a group of men lounging by the pool, they are all very large and extremely hairy. Either bearded or sprouting some other form of thick facial hair. Every last one of those strange, out of place looking fellows he’d talked about with his son appears to be there, smoking an obligatory cigar and staring straight at him. In fact, the only person he doesn’t see there is the man of the house himself, Hank. John doesn’t have much of a chance to inquire about that before a huge, hirsute guy who sat nearby took note of his presence and hollered out to everyone in thick Southern accent “Dang, look what the cat dragged in boys, it’s Johnny! We’ve been just talkin’ about ya bud!”

John hears the burly men letting out hoots and hollers as he walks further in. “I’m sorry but do I know you?” John asks once he gets closer to the old man that had called out his name. He doesn’t recall ever seeing him before, could he be another relative of Hank’s? And where was Hank anyway, John would never expect his neighbor to get chummy with men like this, especially with bad habits like all that smoking and drinking that’s going on here. “Course you know me bud!” the old man says, drawing John’s attention to him. The old man removes his sunglasses and as John takes a look at his eyes he can’t help but think that he knows them from somewhere, even despite the rest of the man’s wrinkled, round face appearing completely alien to him.

The man grins and rolls the cigar to the corner of his mouth, looking very amused by John’s perplexed face, as does everyone gathered around them. “This isn’t funny, who the hell are you, where’s Hank?!” John fires off as his patience reaches its limit. The man’s grin grows even wider as he licks his lips and puts his furry hand over his crotch. “Ya sure about that bud, ya really wanna know?” he replies, prompting a number of surrounding men to snicker. John only faintly nods his head, slightly thrown off by the guy’s bizarre reaction. “All righty then, but remember… ya asked fer this yerself bud… Grab ‘im Junior!”

Before John can react to what this old man had said he’s grabbed by a pair of strong, furry arms from behind. “Let me go!” He shouts while struggling against the man’s grasp, much to the amusement of the others around him. “No can do.” the man chuckles and John immediately identifies him as the man he spoke to in the driveway. “What’s the meaning of this?! Let me go!”John yells out again. “Why Johnny? You’ve said it yerself, ya wanted tah know where yer friend Hank is, I’m only goin’ tah tell ya, I’m gonna show ya, bud” He says as he pulls the cigar out his mouth and blows a mouthful of smoke in John’s direction.

John begins to cough again, feeling the thick smoke invading his lungs. He sees the man slowly hefting himself up from his chair and moving in his direction, together with a number of others who had previously only watched from the distance. “What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?!” John shouts, trying once again to free himself from the bearded man’s grasp. His struggles only seem to amuse him as the man’s burly arms hardly budge at all. He laughs, filling the air around them with plumes of cigar smoke.

John starts to feel dizzy, finding himself subjected to even more smoke as the other bear walks up closer to him. “If ya didn’t miss our last poker night bud you’d know where Hank is.” the older hirsute bear says, prompting everyone around to laugh. “See, Marty brought over a box of these gars. At first nobody wanted to smoke anythin’ called ‘Redneck Stogies’, but after Marty fired one up it wasn’t long before the boys joined in, mahself included.” the man says. This has to be some kind of a joke, why is that old man talking about that poker night out of the sudden. “It wasn’t long before we’ve all started whipping out our fat, daddy dicks and turning into the hot, redneck bears you can see before ya bud.” he says letting out another raucous belly laugh. It may be because of his dizzy state but John almost believes him at first. As he looks around at the men around him, John can see that they all look eerily familiar to his poker friends and other various neighbors. He notices the big bellied cowboy he told his son about this morning, from the start he couldn’t get rid of the impression that he looked a lot like Jim, one of Hank’s coworkers.

Same with the guy that’s been talking to him, je does look so much like his next door neighbor. Only a bit older and so much bigger… hairier… ho- no… it must be that smoke messing with his head and making it so fuzzy he almost believed what the man had said. They must be trying to drug him somehow, that’s probably what they did to the real Hank too. “Shut up! Let me go and take me to my neighbor or I’ll call the cops!” John snaps but the men don’t seem to be taking his threats seriously at all. “Ya still don’ believe me? It’s fine, I didn’t want to either when I went downstairs for a couple minutes and returned to find Steve bending Jim over the card table and plowing his ass like no tomorrow. Don’ cha worry though… after the boys held me down and fed me some of the smoke it wasn’t long before I was aching to take Steve’s place, gonna be the same fer ya Johnny. Now I know why the guys at the shop were so generous with their ‘free samples’ once Tom told them he was looking for something for our poker night, we all just can’t get enough of these gars now.”

This was insane, surely this guy was crazy. Something like that just wasn’t possible… right? John found himself having some doubts now, unsure what to believe after breathing in so much of that smoke. He was starting to feel really strange, even his cock was growing harder and forming a small tent inside his pants after hearing that whole story. Fuck… giving Jim’s fat, furry ass a good plowing sure sounded hot… wait, what? “Looks like yer startin’ tah enjoy yerself Johnny!” Hank hollers, before taking a drag off his cigar and exhaling it straight into John’s face, covering it with a thick, grey mist. John tries his best to hold his breath but there is so much smoke everywhere that it’s just impossible to avoid breathing it in. Eventually he just can’t help it and gasps, taking in a mouthful of it inside his body which makes him feel even dizzier. “Nnngh, let me go…” John moans feeling an intense wave of arousal sweeping over him, barely finding any strength left to struggle against the man’s grasp. “No can do Mr Owens, not before I find out what a sexy daddy bear yer goin’ tah make.” Oh god… in that single moment John realized who this huge, bearded man behind him really was “Mr Owens”, that’s exactly what Ed always called him whenever he saw him on the street or came over to visit his son, no matter how many times he assured him that ‘John’ was enough. But surprisingly knowing that didn’t faze him as much as he thought it might. In fact thinking of these cigars turning Ed into such a big bear of man only made his arousal grow stronger.

John’s inner conflict clearly wasn’t missed by the surrounding men as they all started rubbing their crotches. “I see yer startin’ tah enjoy it bud, how about I show ya how good it feels to suck on one of these?” drawled Hank while extending his hand with a half smoked cigar towards John. “We’re running out so I was havin’ mah boy pick up a couple more boxes fer us before ya turned up, but I reckon I might be generous and share this one with ya bud.” John tried his best to pull away when he saw Hank moving right next to him while sucking on his cigar. But despite John’s best efforts his neighbor’s bearded lips were on top of his, hungrily kissing him and invading his mouth with his tongue, blowing tobacco smoke straight down his throat. A haze of pure lust instantly clouded John’s mind as he found himself between two furry, massive bodies. His cock growing painfully hard as he felt their prominent bulges grinding against him from the front and the back. His body began growing, heating up, John felt an unfamiliar itch spreading over his cheeks as thick, white stubble covered them completely. But as soon as it began, it was over once Hank pulled away. In that same moment John found himself involuntarily moaning as if to protest that he didn’t get more, before barely regaining his composure once he realized what he was doing. “Dang it, this is even more fun than when I’ve changed mah boy. In fact, why don’t ya tell ‘im how it went down Junior, I reckon it’s gonna make his cock leak even more!”

“I didn’t think much of it when I first smelled cigar smoke creeping inside my room, I’ve tried to focus on studying, but it wasn’t long before all I could think about was whipping out my hard cock and beating off. I was already starting to change when I the heard moans coming from across the hallway and decided to follow them. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I found everyone turned into these hot, furry, redneck bears they are now right in the middle of fucking each other’s brains out. Something inside my head was screaming at me to get out of there, but my cock was rock hard and all I wanted was to join in on the fun, so I just stood there, unsure what to do, until one of these hot bears took notice of me. He told me to get my ass right in there between his legs and suck daddy off. As I watched him slowly jerking that huge, fat, daddy dick of his, looking so hot, I just couldn’t resist and simply had to do as I was told. Pa kept on showering me with the smoke from his gar and by the time he unloaded in my mouth, I was another horny, redneck daddy like the rest of the boys.” Ed says, his voice betraying a great deal of arousal at the memory.

He wasn’t the only one either as John found himself picturing every last detail of what Ed had described, growing so aroused he lost control completely. His body began changing again. the white stubble growing thicker and turning into a full beard, the hair on his head turning white and thinning out at the front, his face becoming withered as he slowly crept up in age. John’s in shape body was soon completely gone as it kept on packing on the pounds of excess fat, his stomach rounding out into a big, hefty gut with a thick dusting of white hair covering it. John couldn’t help but moan as the lust overwhelmed his mind, his cock began dripping with precum and staining the front of his jeans. John couldn’t help imagining doing something like this to his son as well. Having Will get on his knees and suck his old, daddy bear off before he handed him a cigar and watched him turn into a real man like the one he was becoming himself right now.

John let out a deep, low grunt and thrust his hips forward. He was so unimaginably horny, he looked down at his changing body, his big, round gut and the nearly fully grown, grey beard. The fit, almost hairless, clean-shaven forty year old from barely fifteen minutes ago was gone and in his place stood a nearly fully changed daddy bear. That was so fucking hot, and the thought of making others like him, especially his son was turning him on even more. “Let me fuckin’ go, need tah nut, need tah fuck yer hole!” John heard himself grunt with an accent just as thick as Hank’s, as he tried to pull away from Ed’s grasp. He seemed to be having much more trouble keeping him contained than when he first grabbed him and John could already tell that it won’t be long before he grows strong enough to overpower him and gets to bury his massive, daddy dick inside his furry ass, fuck yeah… no… this wasn’t right… this wasn’t his voice… he didn’t really want to do that… he had to remember that… he had to keep on fighting… “Ya really want us tah let ya go? I reckon we might as well let ya… but first yer gonna have tah smoke this gar down tah its cap bud!” growled Hank as he stuck the stub of the cigar he was smoking between John’s lips.

It smelled so delicious, he wanted so much to suck on it, fill his lungs with its smoke and have it change him even further, make him grow even bigger, hairier, hotter… his cock had to be massive already, it was practically ready to tear through the fabric of his pants by now. His whole body was… John could hear his clothes starting to tear at their seams and couldn’t wait for that to happen, he wanted so much to see his new daddy bear body in its full glory. No… he couldn’t give in… this cigar was barely an inch long, it was only a matter of a couple more minutes before it will be gone and he will be free, he could resist… wait it out… and then he could escape… get to his son and… and pump that cub full cum and gar smoke until he turns into a horny ol’ fuck like him! Oh god… no…

[tokrev-roses]

Cool Cool Boy

although you are happy with your love, your ex-boyfriend wants to be a part of your life again. jealous boyfriends and phones involved + NSFW (original request)

🖋Genre: Smut (Mikey, Draken Chifuyu), Fluff (Baji)

⚠️Warnings: 18+ for everyone but Baji, description of the female body and sexual acts, bad writing/grammar/spelling

👥Characters: Mikey, Draken, Chifuyu, Baji

❧ Keisuke Baji

Fancy dates are not his thing

It was not only that he had a budget, being a middle schooler and everything, he also simply didn’t vibe with it

But it was your anniversary, so he saved up all his pocket money and tried to behave so mama Baji would let him out

Cue to him waiting in front of a popular restaurant for young couples, wearing his edgy street clothes

And to both of your surprise, everything went smoothly

He excused himself to the restroom for a sec, and while you were waiting at your table, daydreaming about the beauty of this evening, someone sat down on Keisuke’s chair

You turned towards the person, fully expecting to see your boyfriend, but were met with a less than pleasant view. Your ex-boyfriend greeted you with a satisfied smirk.

“Enjoying yourself, y/n? You know, I always thought you were one of those girls who loved fancy stuff, considering how much you loved our dates and my presents. That you’d settle for someone who is unable to offer you more than this…” He made a derogatory gesture towards the other tables.

This was no high-end restaurant with view over the Tokyo skyline, but it was Baji who put a lot of effort into this, and it meant more to you than anything else

As you were about to respond, a shadow towered over your ex

“What do you think you are doing her punk?”

“This is the trash you left me for, y/n?”

As he was about to laugh, Baji seized him by the collar, lifted him up, and threw him away like actual trash

Knowing Keisuke, you tried to stop the enraged berserker he was about to turn into. No need for a brawl in the middle of a restaurant

You managed to calm him, nonetheless the manager kindly asked all three of you to leave

Keisuke kept quiet on your way home. You knew why. He actually wanted everything to be perfect, to show you how much you meant to him and it was ruined by his temper and a slimy asshole

„♪Kei-Su-Ke♪“, you poked the dimples of your grumpy boyfriend. “I loved this evening. Minus that idiot, but that was none of your fault.”

“Hm.”

He kept walking.

Ok, you’d have to bring the big guns in

With two big steps you were behind him to give him the strongest back hug possible

“Ya, you punk. Wanna pick a fight?”, your effort to imitate his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“As if a small fry like you could win against me.”

With that you knew the ice was broken. What you didn’t expect was him turning around fast as lightening, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

You tried to scream but it ended in heartful laughter

A perfect anniversary indeed.

❧ Manjiro Sano

(Future!Mikey, Dark-Haired)

King of jealousy and most possessive out of all the boys, so you can imagine his reaction as you told him your ex-boyfriend visited you at work

The mood instantly shifted

“Come on, Manjiro. He didn’t ask me to marry him or anything.”

This joke was not appreciated by him, and he stayed broody for the rest of the evening

You should have known that he was up to something as he suddenly became very touchy with you, but you pinned it on his neediness

Things got even stranger when he didn’t let you touch or pleasure him, but instead kept making you feel like wax between his fingers

It wasn’t just the way he abused your neck with longing kisses or how he caressed the sides of your body with featherlight touches as he made his way downwards. Not the way he fondled your breasts with the utmost care, kissing and sucking your nipples until you couldn’t keep your whimpers from spilling.

The satisfied smile he gave you as you made the first sound should have shown you that there was more to it, but you were so lost in pleasure, that you really didn’t care

Things got worse (or better) for you as he reached your most intimate spot

If he was skilled at pleasuring you before, he was a god at doing so today.

White pleasure blinded you as his velvet tongue explored every part of you. Every moan and whimper you gave him was met with a pleased hum that vibrated through your body.

When you couldn’t stop your own need from feeling every part of him on you, you used your hands in his dark hair to push him closer to you.

Instead of understanding your silent plea like he usually would, he just kept going and going until your vision got blurred by tears and your voice was hoarse.

Only then he let you go, mumbling something you were too tired to understand.

You slept well that night, with Mikey hugging you loke a koala

It was only when you looked at your phone the next morning, that you realized what he had done.

A chat with your ex-boyfriend, who must have written you last evening about going out for dinner, cough your eye. Your answer, which you definitely didn’t send, consisted of a 30 second audio.

Innocent you played it, of course, and it took you a second to realize what exactly you were hearing.

That was you. You, moaning in ecstasy. You were frozen in place an listened all the way through it

The audio ended with a raspy voice you knew all too well

“She is busy with me.”

❧ Ken Ryuguji

Your phone was broken.

It did not show you, who tried to call you and called people you never meant to call. That’s why instead of putting it in your pockets, it usually laid somewhere beside you. Like today as you were cooking dinner for your finance who was about to come home from his bike shop very soon

The last days had been a bit stressful, he had a lot to do, couldn’t spend any time with you and you went to meet your ex-boyfriend for coffee, as he himself was about to get married soon

Ken tried to be understanding, but the amount of your time this past fling consumed annoyed him

That’s why he wanted to make up for lost time this evening

He didn’t hesitate when he saw you standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan and looking so perfect

On swift move and the giant had placed you on the counter, standing between your spread legs, face buried in your neck

“Well, someone seems eager.”

He wasn’t willing to waste time with your teasing but begun to assault your lips

Heavy breathing filled the room as he cupped your chin with one hand and tried to get rid of your clothes with the other

Your bodies soon met with a pleasurable sensation, moving in synch.

You held on to him like your life depended on it, ankles hooked behind his back

He wasn’t one to moan, but his heavy breathing had something so unexplainable erotic to it, that it made up for the missing foreplay

One couldn’t be without the other and if it wouldn’t have been for the laws of nature, you would have said that your brains your hearts and your pleasure became one

Sweat made the counter slippery, and your voice became raspy as you finally reached your high together

“Well, hello there.” You could literally hear the smirk on his lips as he said this.

“…hello?”

You thought you were hallucination from your post-orgasmic bliss as you heard another voice talking to the both of you. But Ken’s shocked face as he looked towards your phone woke you up

It couldn’t be that your phone called your ex-boyfriend, right?

Right??  

❧ Chifuyu Matsuno

It’s not like Chifuyu needs your attention all the time, but he kinda needs it when he wants it you know?

And today he really needed it

He had given the shop into the hands of his partner, Kazutora, to spend some time with you, as a surprise

The thing with surprises was, that they usually came at the worst times

His mood went downwards as he came home and instead of giving him a confused hug, asking him why he was home already, you were on the phone with god knows whom

He thought you’d end the call soon, so he gave you some space, but as you kept laughing 30 minutes after he arrived, he got annoyed, to say the least.

He didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation, but your constant laughter, bickering and smiling made him…curious

It seemed like your former high school sweetheart had called to “remember the good old times”, and although it wasn’t like him at all, he slowly but surely felt anger bubbling inside of him.

You had settled for the couch, and although the other party was on the phone, he felt the need to touch you, so he laid down between your legs, head resting on your stomach

You, of course, noticed the sour mood hanging in the air (not just because he followed you around like a lost puppy while you were phoning this old friend of yours)

So you petted his hair, knowing it would calm him

But the time for appeasement was over, at least for Chifuyu. He knew that you knew that he wanted you to hang up, yet you didn’t

It started as an innocent kiss on your stomach, which you answered with a silent chuckle, shaking your hand to signal him to stop

That he ignored it would be an understatement

Something you realised as he started caressing your intimate part through your clothes

As your friend on the other side was continuing to tell you about his life, your attention was captured by the innocent puppy-dog eyes your boyfriend gave you as he got rid of the annoying layers keeping him from feeling you

He began giving you kitten licks, that literally took your breath away. Good for you, the other man didn’t notice

Chifuyu, that devil, knew what he was doing, keeping eye contact with you while doing the most sinful things to you

It got worse as he took your pearl between his soft lips and started sucking

You had to press your fist on your mouth to keep any sound from spilling

He continued his assault with a steady pace, and you wanted him to stop as much as you wanted him to continue

“Y/n, are you still there?”

You hadn’t noticed that the excited voice on the phone had stopped

Faster than you could react, Chifuyu had snatched your phone away from you.

His breath tickled your now wet parts as he answered

“Something came up just now, and she needs to come. Try again, pal.”