#snatch brick top

[winchesterlocal]

because last time went so well.. snatch audience where are you

[on-a-lucky-tide]

"Do you know what nemesis means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent, personified in this case by an 'orrible cunt...

...me."

[cashcoffeecup]

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[xetlynn]

Hello :D

I was wondering if you could write something were jinx and reader have a reunion after the time skip and jinx gives the reader claggors goggles because she saved them for the reader to get back knowing that they were close and they should have them

(I apologize if I explained it wrong(feel free to ignore this))

I loved this idea<3

arcane imagines- Jinx

watching you

[arcane] [main page] prompt: in which jinx spots you, following you to make sure you weren't a hallucination.

“Fucking hell.” You mutter under your breath, climbing onto the roof of a building, scraping your knee as you do so. You were currently on the run from authorities for breaking into someone’s house. You thought it was abandoned, a place to take cover in until you could find another. 

It’s been rough for the past 7 years after Benzo, your father figure passed away. Ekko offered you shelter but you would have had to join the fireflies. You declined. You weren’t a peacemaker, you weren’t a fighter. You just wanted to be alone. You weren't fighting for others.

You missed your life before everything went to shit. You missed your best friend, Claggor. You missed the only girl you ever fell in love with, Powder.

Who’s now going by the name Jinx, or so you heard. You haven’t gotten the chance to bump into her. And you didn’t know if that made you upset or relieved. 

Upset because obviously you miss her. Or relieved because she changed. She’s not your Powder anymore. As Ekko has told you after the many a times of bumping into you. Pleading with you to just join the fireflies. That you look worse and worse every single time he sees you. 

You declined. Clearly. 

Eyes were set on you from another building, they’re been watching you for weeks. Swearing up and down that you were just another hallucination. The blue-haired girl follows you from each roof-top, always two behind you. And when you jumped down, finding a good alleyway where you wouldn’t be caught. 

Jinx does the same, more swift and careful not to be heard.

As you walk in the dark alleyway you scan around, searching for a place to seek shelter for the night. Humming lowly just so you could comfort yourself. 

You heard the steps behind you, you attempted to act as if you couldn’t tell. A pit filled in your stomach knowing you’re most likely about to be dragged into a fight. You needed to make the first move. 

Running wasn’t a choice. 

You slow down a bit, feeling the person get even closer to you. Sharply turning around you snatch the person by their collar. Pinning them against the brick wall. “Who the hell are you!?” You grit your teeth, the unknown person’s hands go up in defense.

“Is that any way to treat an old friend?” Their voice was raspy but familiar, their head going back to drop the hood. Your nostrils flared, eyes widening, keeping your hand tight against their collar bone. Not ceasing your hold.

“What the hell? You glare. 

“It really is you.” Her eyes seemed to have softened with a slight tilt of the head. “Of course it’s really me, the hell are you doing following me like that, Jinx?” You spat out the name in distaste, like it was vomit. 

“So you know my name? Still obsessed with me?” She giggles, not even struggling against you. Letting you pin her up against the wall without a complaint. 

Your gaze was hard, not faltering. She grins at you.

You roll your eyes, dropping her. “What do you want?” You sigh. 

“Why aren’t you with boy savior?” Jinx ignores your question, her arms crossing. “Ekko? Because I’m not a fucking fighter. I keep to myself and he can’t respect that.” You sit down on a wooden crate, manspreading and leaning forward. “Seems like you fight a little bit.” Jinx snorts, reminding you of what you did. “I fight to protect myself. No one else. I’m not anyone’s body guard but my own.” 

“Mm, not even if I asked you to be mine for old times sake?” She says in a teasing tone, crouching down to look at your face. Expecting you to blush but instead your face is stone hard. “Not even yours, Jinx.” You divulge causing her to frown. 

“I’m leaving.” You push past her, she loses balance.. Falling on her ass as you step away. “Wait!” She crawls back up to her feet, grabbing onto your arm. You glance down at her hands, flickering to her face. She didn’t seem like the type of person Ekko explained. 

She was still similar to the Powder you remembered. “I have something to give to you. One thing and then we can go our separate ways.” Hers bored into yours, pleading with you. 

“What is it?” Your body slumps, and she lets you go. “You have to come with me. It’s at my place.” She walks ahead of you, putting her hood back over her head. You stand there for a moment before joining her. You didn’t really have anything else to do. Or anywhere to go so what did it matter. 

If this is a death-trap you’d still willingly go, you were getting tired of fighting to live.

You seemed numb to Jinx. Even as Jinx and not Powder anymore her love for you overpowered the anger that she wanted to feel for everything. It’s been a long time since she was Powder but yet she knew you like the back of her hand. Like she was back to being 11 years old and stuck at your hip. She didn’t like that you were so similar to her now. So mentally… fucked.

“Right around this corner.” Jinx tells, going down an even darker path. You nod your head even though she wasn’t looking. Hands in your pants pockets. 

“Here.” She murmurs, the two of you climb to a lit up area. Filled with color and glitter. 

You stood behind Jinx as she dug through her stuff. “Close your eyes.” She orders, you didn’t argue, doing as told. “Gonna kill me in a kinky way?” You joke lowly. She snickers. “You found out my master plan.” 

“Found it.” You hear her whisper. She turns to you and takes in your features as you can’t see what she’s doing. She’s surprised you weren’t fighting with her, until she noticed your demeanor. 

The same demeanor she finds herself falling into. You truly don't care whether you lived or died.

“Give me your hand.” She says, her voice almost breaking due to her realization. “Man, are you a freak or something?” You scoff, jerking your hand out. 

“Hah! You wish.” She carefully places something in your hand. It was a hefty little object, you were confused on what this was. Her hand stayed hovered over yours. “I kept this… in hopes I’d see you again. After a while I didn’t think I was going to. But then I spotted you a few years ago. And then again this year. I’ve been watching you.” She admits and you scrunch your nose. “You really are a freak.” 

She huffs out a small laugh. “Possibly. But I know you’re into it.” She nudges you. “You can open your eyes, you weirdo.” 

You slowly do so, looking down at your hand. You let out a gasp, gripping onto the object. “I know how much he meant to you. You should have it.” She simply tells you. Tears brim your eyes. “I- Powder- you. Sorry.” You take in a deep breath, a tear quickly dripping down your cheek. “Thank you, Jinx.” You pull her into a tight embrace. Her arms stuck at her side as her shoulder grew wet. 

Claggor’s goggles, a piece of your best friend that you lost 7 years ago. 

“Heh, don’t get all sappy on me.” She pats your back and you take that as a sign to let her go. “Sorry,” you sniffle. “You don’t understand how much this means to me.” You wipe your tears away, clinging onto the goggles. “Don’t mention it.” She waves a hand. 

“I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“Like I said, don’t mention it.” She awkwardly holds herself, missing your warmth even though she’s the reason you let go. “Right.” You nod your head. 

It grows quiet, you play with the glasses. Rubbing your thumbs over the grooves and crevices. “I’ll take my leave now. Thank you.” You give her a gentle smile, the first genuine one she’s seen from you this whole time. 

Her mouth slacks open, going to stay something as you are walking away. “Nice to see you again, by the way.” You look back at her one last time.

[genevaxoxo]

imagine caleb who simply can’t help but melt when you wrap your legs around him-

even in the most innocent moments his mind can’t help but drift- after all he’s been depraved of you for so long. can you blame him? no, especially not when he’s dealing with a temptress herself.

he’s simply laying in bed going over his reports of the day, against the brand new headboard hes purchased-courtesy of redesigning his apartment in sky haven all per your liking of course- when you all but saunter in.

he slowly feels the bed dip, before peering over the papers, watching you slowly crawl up his body and end up in a straddle on top of him. you simply peer down at him, relaxing and placing your weight down onto his hips. your face breaks out into a smile, tucking your hair behind your ears- but all caleb can think of is wrapping his hands in those locks and slammi-

“calebbbb…” you softly grumble, lips settling a pout. “it’s been 5 hours since you’ve gotten home and you’ve been in this same spot, doing the same thing for the past 4 and a half. take a break pleaseee?” you whine and paw at his chest, attempting to snatch the reports away from an already doomed smitten caleb.

“hey watch the hands-“ he drops the papers and grasps your wrists holding them in place w one hand while using the other to stabilize your waist. you’ve basically begun toppling over onto him, faces half a foot apart, a curtain of hair encompassing the both of you.

“i uh- ahem-i need- have to finish these up by tonight-“

“but caleb i miss you… please just an hour of your time i promise i won’t bother you again”

your hands squirm in his grip trying to get out, and your body keeps shuffling on top of him, making it oh so difficult for caleb to breathe and keep himself from flipping you both over right now. he chooses safety instead, for his own health at the very least.

“pips i’m sorry i-“

you quickly bury your face in his neck, whining once more, and with a gasp, caleb releases your hands to steady you instead (if by steadying you mean clutching your hips and trying not to grind you down).

slowly you peel your face away, and grasp his face gently cradling him. you lean down, and suddenly, you smell ten times sweeter, and look a million times more gorgeous like this. his eyes start to flutter close as your lips brush against his, over and over again, in a torturous cycle- and it takes everything in him to not swallow you whole, and bite and suck on any part of you that he grasp.

in a temptingly soft voice, you utter the words that he can’t help but crumble to-

“please caleb…need you so much-”

so with eyes drowning with love, a heart bursting at the seams with adoration, a dick brick hard like a metal, and a heavy sigh-

“alright…you win. i’m all yours for the night pipsqueak.”

———————————————————————————

okay i’m so sorry this is literallt SO bad i got secondhand when i pressed post but hopefully someone likes it and if you do please lmk i feel like a loser 🙏🙏🙏

[riality-check]

DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2

"I have to open it."

"Nope."

"Gareth. I need to open it."

"The vault is sacred," Archie says.

At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."

Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"

"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.

Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.

"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.

"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.

Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."

Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.

It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.

He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.

Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.

Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.

(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)

From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.

Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.

"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.

"Is that how we ask?"

"I could always yank the key off you."

Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.

Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.

Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.

And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.

But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.

Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.

Or maybe Steve was just that hot.

He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.

His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:

I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.

Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.

"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.

"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."

"What did he say?" Archie asks.

Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.

Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.

"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.

"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.

"What do I say?" he asks.

Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."

"I don't know how!"

"You ground against a guitar-"

"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"

Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"

"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.

Jeff barks out a laugh.

"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.

Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?

"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.

"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.

Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.

"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.

"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.

"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."

"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"

"He might be ace."

"Archie, shut the fuck up."

He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.

Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.

He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.

This is. So bad.

And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.

Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.

I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.

"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.

"He's single!" Gareth cheers.

"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.

"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.

They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.

But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.

He writes back, once he's calmed down:

Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.

[suntoru]

─ ✰ INVISIBLE STRING.

─ SYNOPSIS: the three times you coincidentally bump into toji fushiguro and the one time you find out it was intentional.

─ WARNINGS: 3.4k words!! not proofread, swearing, fluff, ooc toji?, mentions of a dildo, mild violence, creepy perv (not toji), BABY MEGSSS, idk i started yapping halfway through

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: GUYS I LOVE TOJI. I LOVE HIS SLUTTY WAIST. disclaimer i’m only like 6 episodes into jjk i apologize if the characterization is off!

— the first time your ever meet toji fushiguro is on a friday at 8PM. you don’t expect to be so downbad for somebody you just met, much less in a grocery store in your pajamas, but here you are. and fuck, he’s hot. he’s clad in a snug, black compression shirt that outlines his biceps so nicely and enticingly low-waisted white sweatpants that fall deliciously on his hips… compared to him, you look like a hobo in your ratty old pajamas. scratching your head in embarrassment, you instantly look away before he catches you staring— and thank god he speaks up, his voice interrupting your less-than-innocent thoughts.

“think that’s mine,” he motions casually to the black-haired cherub curled up in your arms. the little one’s eyes, swollen and red from the relentless wailing for his papa just seconds earlier now lights up immediately, adoration clear in his eyes. his tiny little arms outstretches towards toji in an adorable plea to be held. rolling his eyes, toji relents, scooping megumi up with one arm and securing him in his hold.

“cute kid.” you coo, ruffling the doe-eyed toddler’s hair affectionately.

“yeah… cute little brat,” he mutters in a low voice. “where’d you find him?” you giggle softly. “was in the toy section playing, noticed he was alone, then started to cry… be more careful next time, okay, ’gumi?” the child nods his head shyly, burying his face in his daddy’s chest. you wish that was you don’t u u horny degenerate /lh

“swear to god, he won’t listen to me when i tell him stuff. and he gets sad too easily, cries when he isn’t allowed to buy whatever he wants…” toji scoffs, pinching megumi’s cheek and a small whine escapes the toddler, effectively tugging at your heartstrings. what a cute little family.

“the mama must be real pretty; cause he certainly doesn’t take after his grumpy papa.” you lightheartedly joke, allowing the black-haired baby to toy with your fingers. “the mom’s out of the picture.” toji nonchalantly reveals, an unexpected hush falling over the conversation.

wide-eyed, you realize the awkwardness that your comment had caused. “i-i’m so sorry!! i didn’t mean to—” you stammer, feeling a pang of regret. “‘t's fine, shit happens.” he shrugs his shoulders ever so casually, dispelling the tension in the air. “it’s just me and this little gremlin here,” he adds, and despite his earlier insults towards the adorable baby, it’s crystal clear he loves him— even if he won’t readily admit it out loud. being a single dad… you can’t even imagine it. must be so hard…

you're so caught up in your feels that you don’t even notice when toji takes a peek into your grocery cart, a snicker escaping him. momentarily confused, you follow his gaze and then it hits you— oh no. what you originally came here to do, the reason you didn’t even have time to dress properly was because it was the last discount day for– looking down in horror, placed proudly, right on top of your cart, is an obnoxiously bright pink silicone dick.

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and a flush of embarrassment colors your cheeks as you fumble for words. “i-i… um… c-can explain!!” seemingly enjoying your flusteredness, he loses no time teasing you. "someone's clearly single." he remarks, a smug look plastered on his face. he snatches it out of your cart, dangling the object just out of reach– this bastard!! capturing megumi's attention, the innocent curiosity in his little mind interprets the funny-looking object as a potential toy, prompting him to reach out with grabby hands.

in a state of panic, you swiftly smack it out of toji’s hands, but you fail to realize there’s somebody in your way– you accidentally hit a balding, middle aged man square in the face with a dildo. a fucking dildo. letting out an audible gasp, you quickly turn away as the now angry man swivels around, searching for the perpetrator angrily. your efforts to stay inconspicuous prove futile as the 6'2 sorcerer can't contain his laughter, earning a few odd stares from shoppers passing by.

"it's not funny," you whine, feeling the heat creeping up to your face as he wipes away a tear, still clutching his stomach. he grins tauntingly, wholeheartedly amused.

"nah, that shit’s hilarious."

— “mama, mama!!” coincidence seems to strike once more, for your second encounter with toji fushiguro comes about a week later. you’re minding your own business in a neighborhood park, in the middle of texting your friend when little megumi joyfully latches himself onto your leg, gurgling happily, effectively scaring the shit out of you. safe to say, you're surprised— mommy? you'd met him once for thirty minutes and he's imprinted on you.

but you can't find it in yourself to be mad; he's practically looking at you with stars in his eyes. so you cave, crouching down to meet his height, patting his teeny tiny head gently.

"hi megs!! where's dada?" you question, and sure enough, the adorable little cherub points enthusiastically to his father, who happens to be engaged in conversation with two women. they’re giggling obnoxiously, stroking his biceps and being overly touchy, and he seems to be enjoying it. in an instant, all your former attraction seems to dissipate in an instant. an annoyed huff escapes you— of course, he's a manwhore. you should've known, he seems like just the type, but letting your kid leave your sight was just completely unacceptable.

feeling pissed, you can practically feel a vein bulge in your forehead. you’re going to knock some sense into that thick skull of his. scooping up megumi, you march up to toji, making sure to be extra cautious while holding him in your arms. what was he thinking? is it like this all the time? him getting distracted by a pair of tits and forgetting about his own son? seriously, this man needs to get his act together.

as soon as he’s in range, your free hand swiftly makes contact with the back of toji's head, letting out a loud ‘thwack’ noise on impact. he lets out a painful groan. "the fuck?" toji curses, rubbing the back of his head. unfazed, you return his sass with a stern expression.

"the hell do you think you're doing? talking to girls instead of taking care of your kid? no wonder 'gumi wanders off all the time, you didn't even notice he went missing! stop thinking with your dick all the time and start thinking with your head!!" you scold the older man as he scoffs. "me? you're one to talk, buying a rubber cock for your lonely ass. who the hell are you to judge my parenting?"

you're about to retaliate when the two girls exchange a glance, scowling in annoyance as they side-eye both you and toji. "y'know, if you were married, you could've just said so in the beginning." one of the girls pipes up as the other nods her head. "yeah, stop wasting our time loser, lets go." and before he can respond, they storm off dramatically. he rolls his eyes at them, sticking up his middle finger at their backs.

“whatever. they were bitches anyways. and you’re a real killjoy.” you flick his forehead lightly. “the fact that i, a complete random stranger, takes better care of this kid than you is quite concerning.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he mumbles snarkily, attempting to snatch megumi away from you. he can’t believe his eyes when the chubby little baby starts to tear up, clutching onto you tighter and repeating babbles of ‘mama.’ “megumi, get down from there!” toji hisses. “listen, ya little brat, that ain’t your momma.” glaring, you attempt to hand back the stubborn ‘brat’ to his father, but to your (and his) dismay, he continues to latch onto you with an iron grip. if you didn’t know any better, with how megumi was acting, you’d think toji had never dealt with a child before. all he did was glare daggers at the both of you; the longer the interaction went on, the more irritated he got. a scolding glare towards his son, then the stranger.

“for the last time, stop clinging to that woman! she isn’t your mother.” the poor baby’s eyes glass over, about to burst into tears as you rock him in your arms, letting out a huff in annoyance. “calm your whining. you think he’s going to listen if all you do is yell?”

“fine. i’ll just… pick him up then.” toji grumbled, looking annoyed as he bent over to retrieve his son from your arms. as soon as he picked him up, megumi began wiggling and trying to get away from his father. “stop that.” toji’s face was filled with annoyance as his son’s stubby little fingers wrap around your shirt tightly. he tries his best to be gentle as he pries the baby away from you, yet the little boy began to cry and reach for you. it was clear the youngest fushiguro had developed a strong attachment to you, the stranger who helped him once before.

“‘gumi…” you coo in the softest voice you can manage, pinching his cheek softly. “listen to dada, okay? i’ll buy you ice cream if you’re good.” at the sound of a frozen treat, he instantly stops crying and settles into his papa’s arms, gurgling happily. toji looks at you in utter shock; he lost count of the amount of times he had tried so talk some sense into his little son— but just once from some random stranger, he chooses to listen. the 6’2 sorcerer sighs in defeat, sending his baby another scowl.

clearly, megumi has no sense of loyalty.

— “well, well, well… you again. i’m starting to think you’re jus’ following me now.” for the third time, you guessed it: toji fushiguro. at this point, it was becoming harder to dismiss these encounters as mere coincidences; had the universe suddenly decide to play matchmaker?

“huh?” you scoff, glancing up from your notepad. of course, he had to choose this exact coffee shop to stroll into while you were on your shift. “i work here.” he eyes you cockily, emanating more of that stupidly hot confidence that somehow makes your heart beat just a little faster than it should.

“be honest— you really just got the job cause you heard i’d be here today.” deadpanning, you roll your eyes. he can’t be serious; he’s such a manchild. “yes, because you’re such a celebrity. where’s megs?” you question, noticing the absence of the adorable baby usually accompanied by his obnoxiously sexy father.

“daycare.” he responds with a lazy drawl, his voice a low, resonant hum that sent shivers down your spine. he seemed engrossed with picking something at his nails, the nonchalant demeanor accentuating the sculpted lines of his features. "you know, it's a shame. you seem a lot less charming without a certain little one running around." you yawn, deliberately trying to piss him off.

as if challenging you, he straightens up, piercing grey eyes locked onto yours. leaning forward onto the counter, his proximity sparks something in your core— was he always this pretty? no wonder he’s popular. his lips look so damn kissable. (you wonder how they’d feel against your own.) your heartbeat picks up as you find yourself unable to keep eye contact, pupils darting elsewhere. you really hope your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“…u-um. your order?” he grins cockily, pulling back at your surrender. “an espresso. and here, the extra dollar's for you.” he casually tosses you a crumpled wad of cash, and at a glance, worth just a little over one dollar and fifty cents. …you can already sense a burgeoning headache destined to plague you by the end of the day.

“…just— whatever. keep the money. it’s on the house.” you groan, escaping from the dumbass man to the back to retrieve the coffee beans. as you scour the shelves stocked with coffee supplies, you attempt to find the espresso beans.

you thoughts, however, are interrupted when your coworker suddenly pops up, prompting an involuntary shriek and effectively scaring the shit out of you. she beams brightly, enthusiasm radiating from her as she clutches onto your arm, ignoring your reaction completely.

“that customer is just my type!! tall, handsome, hot… mind switching with me, please, please, pleeeeeease??” she begs, her eyes wide with desperation and in her best attempt to coax you. you end up relenting pretty easily— after all, you owe her for the numerous overtime hours she's covered for you, but you can't ignore the unmistakable pang of jealousy tugging at your heart. what’s wrong with you? you shouldn’t care, not in the slightest. shouldn't. he's a random stranger who you just so happened to bump into three times now. toji fushiguro is a womanizer, a horrendous father, and an arrogantly cocky man. but for some reason, you find yourself growing… attached.

your eyes follow your coworker, parading out of the storage room with her lips freshly glossed and a flirty smile on her face. a pang of annoyance prickles at you; you're sure he'll absolutely eat her up.

determined to distance yourself from the sight, you trudge over to the adjacent cash register, taking over for your fellow coworker's customer. a friendly smile graces the face of the person in front of you.

"hi." he smiles brightly, greeting you in a friendly manner. "can i get an iced americano?" you nod, ringing his order up. his request is met with a nod from you, and you smoothly proceed to ring up his order. the clinking of the coffee machine acts as a backdrop to the interaction, your mind momentarily distracted by the lingering sensation of unease in your stomach. once done, you serve the ice-cold drink to the customer, who happily takes it, eyes gleaming in satisfaction before winking charmingly.

"and an extra tip for the pretty barista." he says, his tone suggestive as he hands you a bill. is he... really hitting on you? the air thickens with an uncomfortable tension, and you mutter a somewhat awkward thanks, his smile widens, and he leans in, making you feel slightly uneasy.

"isn't this the part where you give me your number?" he teases, leaving a silent pause that hangs in the air. "uhm... i'm really sorry, but... uh-" before you can finish, he boldly grabs one of your hands from across the counter, getting a little too close for comfort. "no need to say anything, cutie. our lips can do the talking." the fuck is wrong with this creep?

you attempt to snatch your hand back, but his grip is like iron. panic starts to set in as beads of sweat form on your forehead. what are you supposed to do in this situation?

just as the tension becomes nearly unbearable, a large hand intervenes, firmly gripping the weirdo's collar. a hand you so thankfully recognize intervenes just in the nick of time. toji's voice, dripping with venom, cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"why the fuck are you touching my spouse?" his snarl, coupled with an ice-cold glare, sends shivers down even your spine. a plausible lie, and extremely believeable. the smaller man stutters, his eyes searching frantically for an escape from toji's wrath. "i-i, um..." he stutters, eyes looking frantically for help. without a moment's hesitation, toji forcefully drops the intruder to the floor, his intense glare bearing down on the now-submissive figure.

"next time, i'll make sure you pay for it." he warns with a chilling undertone, his voice resonating with a quiet but unmistakable threat.

— seven days after the incident, you find solace in a quaint bookstore, its ambiance offering a quiet and peaceful haven for your studying. you're deep in thought, productivity at an all time high. however, the tranquility is soon disrupted by the unmistakable bickering of a child, no older than two, engaged in what seems like a standoff with a fully grown adult. who in the hell would argue with a kid...?

suspiciously, you stand up, leaving your laptop unattended for a split second to take a peek into the book aisle where the sound was coming from. and just as you suspected; there stands toji fushiguro. you suppress a giggle seeing him all crouched over, a pissy expression on his face.

"ya little rat, go give this to y/n. mama. mama, y'hear?" he hisses under his breath, his words an amusing blend of authority and exasperation. he attempts to give a rose to the stubborn little cherub, who violently shakes his head in refusal. holding a book almost as big as himself, he stomps his tiny foot, lifting the curious george volume even higher, adorned with a big pout that adds an extra layer of adorableness to the scene. "i'll read to you later, so just-"

"well, well, well… you again. i’m starting to think you’re just following me now."

you quip, echoing the words he tossed your way exactly a week ago. a smug grin stretches across your face, savoring the sweet taste of his embarrassment. he whirls around, momentarily losing his cool, a curse escaping his lips as he throws his head back. is that a hint of pink dusting his cheeks? you can't help but revel in delight. and as if on cue, megumi beams at you, his small frame waddling towards you with unbridled joy as you scoop him up with ease.

"mama!!" he cheers as you ruffle his hair playfully before turning your attention back to the other 6'2 baby towering over you. "looks to me like you're the obsessed stalker." you tease, a genuine grin stretching across your face. wiping a mock tear from your eye, you catch a glimpse of toji's eye roll, his attempt to feign composure failing as a trace of a pout plays on his lips.

"shuttup," he groans, rubbing the back of his head. he attempts to use this banter as a distraction, sneakily concealing the gift behind his back. but you're not one to be outplayed.

"not so fast..." you grin, skillfully snatching the crimson rose from his grasp before he can offer any protest. it's undeniably pretty, and you find yourself admiring it, a soft smile playing on your lips. you glance back at toji who, now hands tucked into his pockets, deliberately avoids eye contact. "never knew you were much of a charmer." you playfully jest, twirling the delicate flower between your fingers as a teasing smile graces your lips.

"i'm not." he shrugs, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. you set megumi down, allowing him to gleefully grab another dr. seuss picture book.

"awww, so then am i just special?" you snicker, lashes fluttering softly, the lighthearted banter echoing through the quiet aisles of the bookstore. perhaps a little too loudly, as an employee, with an air of rudeness, suggests that all three of you should be a little more discreet before you're escorted out.

apologizing profusely, you struggle to contain your laughter as the employee, irritated by the disturbance, makes a dramatic exit. unbeknownst to him, however, a janitor quietly mops the floors right behind him— resulting in an unfortunate slip and a rather audible rip as his pants succumb to the unforeseen mishap. your face turns pink, and you bite your lip, desperately trying to stifle your laughter to avoid drawing further attention and the risk of being kicked out.

you manage to slap toji's mouth shut, a preemptive measure against the impending witch cackle that could escape if left unchecked. the employee shoots both of you one last glare, clearly unimpressed, before huffing and storming off in a hasty retreat.

exchanging a knowing glance with toji, you finally peel your hand off his mouth, the quiet snickering between you two escalating into unrestrained laughter. as the atmosphere gradually settles, you can't help but notice toji's intense gaze fixed upon you, a look that goes beyond mere amusement.

it's a gaze so deep, so penetrating, that it seems to hold an enchantment of its own. in that moment, you feel like the protagonist in a love-struck tale, caught in the gaze of someone who sees more than just the surface.

toji fushiguro is a womanizer, a horrendous father, and an arrogantly cocky man. …but… you think you can manage.

and so you find your arms slinking around his waist, a huge, unwavering grin plastered on your face. "you're such a baby, y'know? if you liked me you could've just asked for my number." he grumbles under his breath, yet tugs you closer to his body warmth. rolling his eyes, he flicks your forehead, lips curving up into a smile. "you're the worst."

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mercy No More 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, possible violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your misplaced kindness brings a dangerous man to your door.

Characters: Thomas Shelby

Note: a less popular character so I'll just post whenever.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"There's a man in the backyard."

The statement is matter-of-fact, not a hint of distress in your sister's tone as she informs you of the trespass. You wipe your forehead as you turn away from the porridge on the stove. You frown.

"A man... how? Who?" You wonder.

She shrugs, "he couldn't say."

You near her with a glower, "Anna, could you say less?"

"He's face down. He could be dead," she says. "Like old Chester."

"Is he old like Chester?" You go to the backdoor, slipping in a glob of mud. "Anna, your shoes."

"I was distracted. By the dead man."

You tilt your head wryly, "yes, you're brain does seem to be working madly to unravel the riddle."

You slip into your shoes, leaving the laces loose. You turn and go out into the yard. Sure enough, you see the man on the ground. He does look to be lifeless, though you can't be sure.

You glance back at Anna. She gives a coy grin, "I went and got water, I'm not dealing with him."

You sigh. Your father's already at the factory. It's only the two of you and it took enough arguing to get her to bring in a bucket of rain water.

The muck sucks on your soles. The man's face is smeared with mud and his hate rests next to his head. His limbs are askew in all directions. You hear him breathing as he blows bubbles into the slop.

"He's alive," you peek over your shoulder. You're talking to the door. Anna's back hiding behind the brick.

You cautiously bend and jab the man's shoulder, "sir, sir," you poke with each word, "hullo, you're sleeping in the dirt. Sir!"

You shake him. He doesn't stir. You reach across and grab his hat. A sharp pain sears in your thumb. You let the hat drop and look at the sliced pad of your finger. Rats.

Then the damp cold seeps through your stockings. The realisation trickles down your spine. Your eyes search out the sharp edge sewn into the hat. He's one of them.

You turn and march back to the door. You keep your injured hand aloft and let yourself in with other. You stomp into the kitchen and snatch up a cloth. You press it around your throbbing thumb.

"Sister, your shoes," Anna chides drolly.

You huff. She doesn't bother to ask if you're well. You hiss and grit your teeth.

"Get father's rye," you demand.

"Bit early, innit?" She snickers.

"Anna," you sneer.

She drags herself away from the table and takes out a dark bottle. She pulls free the cork and you grab it. You pour it over your thumb, shaking over the sink. You quickly cover the gash again.

"What's happened? He have a knife?" She asks.

"Anna," you face her, your heart top turns. "That man... has blades in his hat."

"Blades in his hat. Well, that's rather foolish." You stare at her and she blinks wide. "A blinder? Out here?"

You nod.

"What do we do?"

"Now it's we?" You challenge.

"It's not good, is it?"

You shrug.

"We could leave him there. Let him wake up."

"Yes, we could. But s'pose he wakes up and thinks we did leave him there. To drown in the mud," you tut. "But the alternative..."

"Wake him up?"

"He's not doing that," you clutch your hand.

"We can't carry him."

"We're going to have to," you say.

"And when he does come to, what then? He could hurt us."

"He might but I know where father keeps the pistol," you say.

"Do you know how to shoot it?"

"No."

"And wouldn't that be worse? To kill one of 'em?"

"Better than being killed," you look around. "Anna, I don't know any better than you."

"How..." she glances at the wall.

"You get one side, I'll get the other?" You suggest.

"How'd he even get there?"

"Now you're asking questions."

"Well, I thought he was a drunk or some'in."

"Oh, no doubt he is," you scoff. You wrap the cloth around your finger, securing it as best you can. You teethe your lip and dip your chin. "Right then."

You take the lead. Anna drags her feet. You go out into the yard. You near the man. He snores now.

You lift up his hat carefully and tuck it into your apron. You step around him as Anna reluctantly hovers some distance away.

"You get that arm." You point.

She whimpers but comes closer. You take his right arm and she flinches away as she reaches for his other. You grunt and grind your teeth as you try to lift him. Your sister whines, "he's too big."

"Anna, put some guff into it," you demand. "Christ be risen."

You manage to get him upright. Sort of. He hangs between you and your sister. You stagger to face him toward the house.

"I'm too weak."

"Stop, just move," you hike the man up as hold his hand over your shoulder, his arm draped around your neck. "Onward."

Your steps are teetering and uneven, lurching as the man threatens to bowl you both over. You haul him crookedly up the stairs, breathless, sweating, aching. His toes catch on the threshold and you all crash to the floor.

Your elbow pangs and your knee burns. You roll over and push the man's arm off you. Anna snivels as she crawls away from him.

"Now what?" She pulls a splinter from her hand.

"Well, he's inside," you get up, panting, and bend his legs enough to close the door. "Put a blanket over him."

"He's just gonna... lay there?"

"Better than the mud." You utter and step back, exhausted.

"What about when Da gets home?"

You give her a look, "let's pray he wakes up first."

🚬

You stir your porridge as the back of the man's head is visible just through the doorway. Anna won't sit still as she cradles her bowl and paces. Your thumb is pulsing with each bend.

The man's hat sits on the table. You did your best to wipe the mud off. You wiggle your foot, as restless as your sister but reluctant to show it.

You rinse your bowl and she gives you hers half-finished. You tisk. "Wasteful."

"Pardon me, my insides are splitting like twigs," she hisses.

You dump her bowl in the bin and wash away the oats. Anna tends to avoid things. She's always been that way. You can hardly blame her, there isn't very much worth facing in this world. Still, some things just must be done.

"Go on then, go to your room," you bid her. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Are you certain?" She asks.

"Not truly but no use you tittering around," you shoo her with your fingers.

She makes no fuss in doing just that. Your dread mounts as you're left alone. She wouldn't be much help as it were, but are you any more formidable? Especially with a man like that?

You carry on, tidying, going through your usual toil, anything to busy yourself until your father returns. You sit and wring out the clothes by hand over a bucket and toss them in the basket to go on the line. You focus on the work, made more difficult by your tender thumb. Your joints ache from the effort, your forearms and the cuffs of your sleeves soaked through.

"Eh, Polly," the gritty voice has you sat upright. "Bring me a cuppa."

You stare at the man. He's not moving still. Just the rise and fall of his breath. He groans.

"Polly, ain't I your favourite?" He rasps and laughs, wincing at the effort.

He sucks in a deep breath and drags a hand over the floor. He pushes himself up with one arm and his head bobbles. He looks around, his nose like a beak. He gets one foot flat, still hunched, then the other. He stands and staggers, catching himself on the wall. He grunts and turns his head. He sees you before the bucket of soapy water and linen.

"You're not Pol," he limps in. "You got any tea?"

You stare at him and drop the shirt in the tub. He's entirely too calm waking up in a strange house. You stand stiffly.

"Whisky?" He hobbles past you and opens the cupboard.

"Sir," you back up. "This isn't-- we don't got much." You cross your arms and keep the chair between you. "You were out in the mud. We only brought you in to dry off."

"We?" He takes out a tin of flour.

"Hm, um, yes, the neighbour helped me," you lie.

"Aye, they did? Ya have a good laugh then? Over my drunk arse?" He accuses as he shuts the cabinet.

"No, sir. It was only--"

He moves towards you and you stumble out of his path. He swipes up his hat and pulls it on.

"Well, give ya some advice," he points at you. "You and that nosy neighbour, keep your mouths shut, eh? Don't be cheeping around with the hens."

"Sir, no, we wouldn't--"

"Know ya wouldn't." He looks around with a sneer, "it's a shithole but I'm sure you don' wan' it it in ashes."

He trips on the leg of the chair. You react without thinking. You grab his arm and the other side of the chair. He sways but stays on his feet.

You swallow as he looks at you. You shudder. "You wanted tea?"

His lips thin. There's a glimmer of shame in his irises. He maneuvers to sit on the wooden seat. He sighs and rubs his hips.

"Ole bullet casing's acting up again," he snarls. "German rubbish."

You go to the stove and put the kettle on the burner. You light it and step away. He bends forward to hold his head.

"Like I said, not much round, but I've got some bones. I could make ya broth," you offer.

He shakes and grumbles. It's not a clear answer. You grab the pork bones and put them in a pot. Your only shield is to do those things you know how to.

You brew the tea and bring it to him. He sits up and watches you set it down. He scrapes the chair closer to the table. He squints at your hand.

"Cut yerself?" He wonders.

"It'll heal up," you assure him and hide your hand behind you. He scratches the side of his head below his hat.

"Razor's cut deep," he remarks.

"They do," you affirm.

"Sorry then," he reaches for the cup. "I'll just get meself straight and be off."

"Very well, sir," you agree and grab the basket of clothes. "I'll be hanging these."

He takes a cautious sip and drones again. He wipes the moisture from his blond mustache with the side of his finger.

You leave him and go out into the yard. You unfurl the garments and pin them in place with the pegs. The gloomy sky won't dry them quickly. You go down the line as you hear Mary hollering at her husband. You've never heard her speak without yelling.

You finish and leave the basket at the door. The man has his head on the table. You go to check the broth. It bubbles but smells good enough. He groans.

You serve him a bowl with a butt of bread. He sits up with a tremour. He doesn't say a word as he draws himself in to the table and dips the rye in the broth. He eats without a care to the dribble down his chin.

He gives a contented hum when he's done. He looks up and smiles. You follow his gaze past you. You turn to see Anna before she disappears behind the doorframe.

"Well, hello, birdie," he growls.

"All done, sir," you take the empty bowl.

He refocuses on you, "didn't mention another of ya."

"She's shy," you insist as you take the dish to the sink.

"Mmm, well," he clucks. "Shy ones are sweet."

"Sir," you approach him again.

"Eh, I know what I said," he stands with an effort that makes him croak. "Yer a good woman. Won't be no bother 'round here. I'll make sure of it."

You nod as he heads for the back door. You follow him and stand in the frame as he stiffly struts to the gate. You frown. There never was any bother before him.

[thinkinonsense]

THE BOY IS MINE✮

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

C/W: cursing, obsessive behavior, and slightly sexual content (mostly flirty behavior except at the end)

Word Count: 980

A/N: this is inspired by the song and video for the boy is mine by ariana grande. kinda just wanted to write about someone being obsessive and crazy. if you haven't seen the music video, I would suggest it. it's pretty short so I hope you enjoy <3

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

Missions weren't always as exciting as they might seem; bosses were demanding and cruel. The danger was inevitable but you needed to eat so there wasn't much of a choice in finding other work. This would have to do for now but sometimes a girl needs to create her own excitement in life.

Which is exactly what you did when you met the Wolverine.

It was a quick first impression but God, it was one to remember. You were sent to settle a deal with a couple men upstate when a strange man pins you to a wall in the hallway; pressing his hips to the front of your black skirt and a hand over your mouth. He smelled of cigar smoke, wood, and mint. Without hesitation, you sink your teeth into the meat of his flesh until he moves it.

"Who the hell are you..?" You hiss.

"Stay here." He ordered.

The man walks away; metal claws shoot out of his hands as he attacks the businessmen at the table. You had never been so furious. The last thing you needed was for some stranger to come and take your credit. This was your job; not his.

Despite being livid with the stranger, you couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. The man sunk his claws in all their guts; you watched them fall one by one until only the two of you were left in the warehouse. Once you snapped out of his trance, you swiftly reached across the table for the paperwork. His hand lands on top of your latex glove, stopping you.

"I can't let you take that, princess." He says.

"I don't take orders from animals." You put on your best fake smile.

"Really? Because it looks like you did just a couple of minutes ago."

He had you there.

You notice a pair of dog tags dangling against his chest. One of your hands grabs them, pulling him to you. The side shown to you says, Logan while the other says, Wolverine.

Cute name.

Over his shoulders, you saw more men running in. A pleasing smirk spread across your face, leading him to turn around and see what you were smiling at.

"Since you handled that last group so well all by yourself," You swiftly knock him down with a heel to his chest, catching him off guard. "I'll let you take the next ones too, Wolvie."

Just as the men entered, you snatched the paperwork and booked it out the window to return it to your boss.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It had been months and still no run-ins with Wolverine. It was beginning to drive you insane; flashbacks of him pushing you up against the wall with his hand over your mouth replayed in your mind almost every chance it could. Your days were spent sketching pictures of him so you wouldn't forget his face or searching for him.

It felt sickening how much you needed to see him again. Your apartment was decorated with sketches of him. He took up every inch of space in your head. This wasn't like you. Normally, you don't entertain the men you encounter but something about the Wolverine was intoxicating. This wasn't some schoolgirl crush. This was a full-on obsession, and you knew it.

The only thing you could do was make him just as obsessed as you were; making him yours.

It took weeks but you finally managed to create your potion for the Wolverine. Now, all you had to do was find him. You asked around to see who he works for and it didn't take long until the name Charles Xavier appeared. Before you knew it, you were back in your latex apparel and standing on the roof of the mansion. The potion was strapped to your belt as you crawled down the brick walls and into his bedroom window.

Almost everyone was out on a mission that evening except for Logan and a handful of students downstairs. You knew if you came any other day, Xavier would have seen you coming and you couldn't have risked that happening.

It was late, midnight by the time he came upstairs. You sat on his bed, waiting perfectly for him. The second you heard his heavy footsteps, your heart almost pounded out of your chest at the thrill.

When the bedroom door opens you are greeted with the scene of the man of your dreams in a white tank top, blue jeans, and a beer in his hand. Instead of running like you assumed he would, Logan stands still with a smirk on his face.

"Didn't think I would see you again," Logan said. He wasn't moving as fast as you would like him to, so you used your whip to bring him closer until he's knees hit the front of the bed.

"It's simply meant to be, Wolvie."

Quickly, you pull the red potion from your belt and pop the lid open. One hand snakes its way up to his jaw, holding him still while the other moves closer to pour. He stops you by pulling off your lacey black mask, finally revealing all of your pretty face to him.

Logan knew exactly who you were. He had been looking for you too; searching every abandoned warehouse and sketchy alley in town. No one knew your name so he thought it was a lost cause and tried to move on. He should've known that you would show up at some point for him again.

Honestly, Logan thought it was cute that you brought some sort of love potion. Little did you know, you had been haunting his mind ever since that night. He wasted no time in smacking the potion out of your hands; laying you back and inching closer until his lips ghosted over your throat.

"I don't need a damn potion."

[tinkaaabutt]

Supermodel- ekko.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A fix inspired by Supermodel by our fav liar sza!

Ekko leaned against the brick wall of the bodega, his skateboard resting beside him. The low hum of the city was like a song he couldn’t get out of his head—car horns blaring, laughter spilling from a nearby hookah lounge, and the faint bass of a song blasting out of someone’s car. He pulled his hoodie tighter against the chill of the evening, but his attention wasn’t on any of it.

It was on you.

You stepped out of the corner store, all legs and confidence, carrying a bag of snacks and a look that could stop traffic. Your oversized leather jacket fell off one shoulder, showing off a fitted tank top underneath. Gold hoops glinted in your ears, catching the light, and your sneakers—freshly creased Air Forces—were spotless, as usual.

You looked like you belonged in the pages of a magazine, but the thing was, you didn’t care about being noticed. And that’s what made it impossible not to.

“Damn, you just gonna keep staring?” you called out, your voice cutting through the city noise like a melody.

Ekko smirked, pushing off the wall. “Maybe. You make it kinda hard not to.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile playing on your lips betrayed you. “Don’t start, Ekko. What’re you even doing out here? Waiting for me?”

“Who says I wasn’t?” he shot back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, brushing past him. “Well, if you’re gonna waste your night following me, at least make yourself useful.”

You didn’t wait for him to catch up, but you didn’t have to. Ekko grabbed his board and fell into step beside you, matching your pace as you strolled down the block.

“Where we headed?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Nowhere special,” you said with a shrug. “Just needed some air. You know how it is.”

Ekko nodded. He did know. Life could feel heavy sometimes, like you were carrying the weight of everyone else’s expectations. You wore yours well, though—like armor. But Ekko had seen enough to know it didn’t always feel like it fit.

“You good?” he asked after a moment.

You side-eyed him, raising a perfectly arched brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just asking,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You know, in case you needed someone to talk to or whatever.”

You laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest tighten. “You’re cute for that. But I don’t need a therapist, Ekko. I’m fine.”

He didn’t push it, but he didn’t believe you, either. Instead, he pulled a snack out of the bag you were carrying—a bag of spicy chips—and opened it without asking.

“Seriously?” you said, stopping to glare at him.

“What?” he said, popping a chip in his mouth. “You weren’t gonna share?”

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered, snatching the bag back. But your lips twitched, and Ekko knew he’d won.

The two of you wandered aimlessly, weaving through side streets and alleys lit by the warm glow of streetlights. The conversation shifted from light jokes to music recommendations, to shared memories that made both of you laugh until your stomachs hurt.

By the time you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, the city had quieted, and the air was filled with that late-night stillness that made everything feel softer.

“You ever think about how people see you?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ekko glanced at you, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like…” You hesitated, your fingers toying with the hem of your jacket. “People think I’ve got it all together, you know? Like I’m some kind of supermodel or whatever. But they don’t actually see me.”

Ekko leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. “I see you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I see you. Not just the way you walk into a room like you own it, or the way you roast me every chance you get. I see the way you care about people, even when you don’t want them

to notice. I see the way you hustle, the way you never let anyone catch you slipping. I see you.”

Your laughter faded, replaced by a soft, almost vulnerable expression. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. For once, you didn’t have a witty comeback or a sharp edge to deflect with.

“You don’t gotta do that,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Act like I’m… more than what people see.”

“You are more,” Ekko said without hesitation. His brown eyes met yours, steady and unshaken. “And if nobody else is gonna remind you of that, I will.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. The city lights reflected in your eyes, and for a moment, Ekko forgot where he was.

“You’re really good at this, huh?” you said after a while, breaking the tension with a smirk.

“Good at what?”

“Making a girl feel seen,” you teased, though your voice was softer than usual. “Careful, hero. You keep this up, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Ekko chuckled, leaning back against the bench. “Maybe I do.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting him to admit it so easily. “You don’t scare easy, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For the first time, you didn’t have a quick retort. Instead, you leaned back, the tension in your shoulders easing as you let out a quiet sigh.

“Alright, Ekko,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “You think you can handle me? Let’s see if you’re about it.”

He grinned, pulling out his phone and holding it up like a microphone. “I’m ready for the interview. First question— how does it feel to be the most smartest caring girl on this lousy ass planet?”

You burst out laughing, swatting at his arm. “Shut up!”

“Not until you answer!”

And just like that, the heaviness between you melted away. The two of you stayed in the park for hours, talking about everything and nothing, stealing chips from each other’s bag, and daring the city to try and interrupt.

Because if ekko couldn't see anything he'd always will see you.

Ahhh i love him sm👌🏾👌🏾 i wrote this one for the non gay gyals hopefully theyll enjoy it

[0deathpainting0]

u got games?

sukuna  //  choso  //  mahito 

summary: helping them out after a bad day by offering them your cozy game but they have different plans to unwind

warnings: 18+ swearing, vulgar language, teasing, oral(f+m), fingering, p in v, raw babes, cockwarming, stalker behavior (everyone is chill abt it), spanking, mahito bricked that you’ll play his lil game w him

a/n: first fic on this acct 💞 many more to come bc im rabid 🤗

w/c: 4.2k all together 

                                        ≽^•⩊•^≼

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sukuna

w/c: 1.2k - ywk hell yeah i think this dude would love cozy games and what abt it !!

He’s staring down at you as you look up at him with your hands on your hips. You’ve been trying to get Sukuna to relax but nothing has been helping. He scoffed at the bath you prepared him and looked almost more upset in the bubbles than out of them. You shove your small game console in his hands and he looks at it and then back to you. 

“I have my own games.” he tries to hand it back to you. 

“Yeah but they’re not relaxing.” you push it back against his chest. 

“It would be relaxing if my cock was being hugged by your pussy.” you roll your eyes at his words but he can see the flush they bring to your cheeks. 

“Play the game and I’ll ride you.” you step closer to him. 

“Let’s go.” he tosses your console back on the bed. 

“No.” you purse your lips. “Start playing first.” he glares at you but turns to the bed regardless. 

“You and your little fucking island game and your little fu-

“Hey,” he laughs at your tone. 

You watch as he lays back on the bed and snatches your console up. He glares over the top of it at you before you see the screen illuminate his face. When his attention is on the screen you start to walk over to the bed. His eyes glance at you as you start to take off your clothes and he goes to put the game down. 

“Kuna,” you raise an eyebrow and stop your movements. 

You hear him mutter under his breath as he drags his eyes back to the screen. From the corner of his eye he can see you take off your panties and he clenches his jaw. He stares at the screen in front of him as some animal is asking for something. He lifts the console when he feels the bed dip and your hands tugging at his sweatpants. 

Of course he’s already hard and waiting for you. You crawl between his thighs and wrap your fingers around him. As you start to lean down to his tip you flash your eyes up to him and find him staring at you. You glare at him and he smirks before he jerks his hips up pressing his tip against your lips. He chuckles before turning his attention back to the screen. 

He grips the console tighter when you suck his tip into your mouth. You keep your eyes focused on him and the way he’s pressing his brows together actually trying to focus on the game. When you sink lower he clears his throat and glances down at you. He narrows his eyes when you stop your movements before he flicks his eyes back to the game. 

“I thought this was supposed to be relaxing.” he groans. “This fucking bunny wont stop asking me to deliver things.” you silently chuckle at his words. 

“Well are you delivering the gifts?” you lift off and press open mouth kisses down his length. 

“Yes.” he glares down at you. “I was promised a ride, not your teasing.” you cup his balls and he tosses his head back. 

“Keep playing.” you whisper kissing up his torso. He looks down at you as you settle your thighs on either side of his and rub yourself against him. “You’re not playing.” you look up and see his dark eyes focused on you. 

“That’s cause you’re sliding all over me.” he grunts as you grab his length and tease it up and down your slit. “Fuck, just sit on it already.” he discards the console and you stop moving. 

“Kuna I-

“Please.” he cuts you off with a word you rarely hear. 

You slide his tip through your wetness a couple more times before lining him up with your core. You slowly sink down onto him and hum at the familiar stretch. You lean down against his chest and keep your movements slow as you press your lips to his chest. You scrunch your brows when you feel his hands rest on your head and then you hear the music from your game. 

“Using me as your desk?” you dig your fingers into his sides. 

“Yeah, ‘m trying to finish this quest for you.” he grunts as his hips softly jerk up into you. “Feel so fuckin good.” he grunts as you roll your hips into his. 

He lets you ride him lazily as he runs around your islands and completes different tasks. He almost forgot you were riding him for a couple minutes until he felt you squeezing around him. He looks down at you and sees your flushed cheeks and pleasure glazed eyes. He brings his attention back to the game and he smirks when you let out a soft whine. 

“Lemme finish this up real quick.” he mumbles as he follows another animal around. 

“Kuna,” you shutter not wanting to ruin his relaxing but your slow movements and the way he brushes against your bud after every roll of your hips has you on the cusp of pleasure. “Can I cum?” he lifts the console and looks down at you with raised brows. 

“Really? You’ve barely been moving.” he looks over the way you’re trembling on top of him. He takes one of his hands off the console and rests it on your back and you look up at him. “Little pussy wants to give my cock a really tight hug?” you nod quickly. “Then cum.” he watches as your face scrunches as you let out small whimpers. 

He continues to softly jerk up into you pulling whines and gasps from your lips. He brings his attention back to the game once you’ve settled. He refuses to admit that he’s thoroughly enjoying the game and once again forgets you’re sitting on his cock until you start moving your hips once more. He finishes up his current task and saves the game before tossing the console to the other side of the bed. 

He pulls you up to his lips before letting his hands slide down to your ass. You feel his knees prop up, next his fingers dig into your flesh before he starts snapping his hips up. You gasp into his mouth and he listens to the sounds that follow. After every smack of skin there’s a high pitched cry from you. You slide your head down to his neck and he groans hearing every whimper perfectly. 

“Thank you for taking care of me tonight.” he pants as he hammers into you. “Next time join me in the bath too.” his grip on you tightens when you press soft kisses against his neck. “Want you to cum for me again.” he grinds you against him after every thrust. 

“K- Kuna,” you feel your high slam through you. 

“Just like that.” he groans and with one last harsh thrust he’s filling you. “I’m staying inside, go to bed.” he grabs the blanket and pulls it over you both. You wrap your arms around him and cuddle further into him. You feel him shift and you chuckle into his neck when you hear the music from your game. “Shut up.” he jerks his hips up. 

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choso

w/c: 1.2k - still soft and emo choso but he’s like a little dom here like a pinch

Ever since Choso walked into your shared apartment you knew something was wrong. His shoulders are slumped and he has a slight pout with a faint blush to his cheeks. He slumps onto the couch and stares at the ceiling. You take a seat next to him and wait for him to turn to you. You’ve offered him tea, his favorite movie, a book but none of it seemed to help. 

“I think you should try my game.” you nod and offer him your hand. He looks at your outstretched hand and grabs it allowing you to tug him up. “And we can lay in bed and I can give you my really soft blanket.” you smile as he softly squeezes your hand. 

You walk over to the side table as he starts to change into something more comfortable. You turn on a softer setting of lights and snatch up your blanket from your chair. When you turn you find him looking at you with the same soft pout and sweatpants low on his waist. You walk over to him and his hands grab onto the shirt of his you’re wearing and pull you closer. 

“What if I wanted to wear this one?” you chuckle at his low words.

“Then you can wear it.” you nod. 

“And you won’t put another on?” he starts to lift the shirt. “I think it would make me start to feel better if you didn’t.” your eyes snap up to his catching his small smirk. 

“So you want me to be naked while you’re fully clothed?” you raise your brows. 

“Not my fault you didn’t wear anything else.” he slips the shirt over his head. 

“Get into bed.” you roll your eyes and walk to your desk to grab your small console. 

Choso watches every step you take and when you turn back towards him he scoots up the headboard. You smile feeling his eyes roam over every inch of your body. You make it to his side of the bed and offer him the console. Instead of grabbing the game he grabs your hands and helps you settle between his legs with your back against his chest. His hands land on your waist and slowly slide up towards your breasts. 

“Cho,” you warn. 

“You play. I’ll watch.” he scoots his hands back down momentarily. 

He watches as you start a new day in the game and he slowly starts to rub circles into your skin. When he rests his chin on your shoulder he watches your fingers fumble putting a soft smile on his face. You lean back into him and his hands start to inch up your sides. You knew it was coming but you can’t stop the small whimper when he engulfs your breasts.

“Choso,” he groans at your tone. 

“I’m watching.” he whispers. “Just wanna play with you.” he presses his lips to your shoulder as he softly kneads into you. 

He could sit like this for hours. Softly touching you as you start to squirm in his arms. Watching you run around your island as some ridiculously cute character in your game. Listening to the noises you can’t hold back when he rolls your nipples between his fingers. Glancing past your console he sees you squeezing your thighs together and he knows when he dips his hand between your legs he’s going to find you dripping. Deciding to find out one of his hands leaves your chest and slips between your thighs. 

“Mm,” you whine when he slides a finger up your slit. 

“Shh,” he whispers against your neck. “Keep playing.” he starts to part your legs with his. 

You’re trying your hardest to keep your focus but he swirls two fingers around your slick bud. He chuckles watching your fingers stop and start again. His other hand is still kneading against your chest and pinching your nipples. You moan loudly and almost drop the console when he dips his two fingers into you. 

“I don’t think you’ve completed a single thing since opening the game.” he hears your retort get cut short on a whine as he curls his fingers. 

“ ‘m trying.” you rock your hips on his hand. 

“To do what? Walk around the pond again?” you gasp at his mocking. “Just kidding,” he starts to move his fingers faster. “You’re doing so good. Already feeling so much better.” he brings his hand down from your chest and starts to circle your bud quickly. 

“I- Choso,” you gasp and he feels you pulse around his fingers. 

“I want you to lay on your tummy for me.” he smooths his hands up your thighs and helps you begin to move. “Gonna lift these just a little.” his fingers grab onto your hips and he pushes your legs open with one of his. “Yeah.” he nods to himself and pulls off his shirt and sweatpants. 

“Fuck Cho,” you rest your head on the bed as he sheaths himself into your aching pussy in one motion. 

“Show me what else is on your islands besides the pond.” he leans down over you and starts to rock his hips. “Feel so good.” he mumbles. 

“I think..” you trail off as he starts a steady pace. “The pond’s the best.” he watches your fingers fist into the sheets as you arch your back more. 

“Let’s see.” his voice low as he leans down grabs the console. “You haven’t shown me this.” he moves your character down a different path. 

“I’ll show you later.” your words pleasure slurred.

He tosses the console off to the side before turning your head to the side to capture your lips. His thrusts become demanding as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. His hands encase yours as he fucks you deeper into the bed. Your breaths mingle as you both simmer in the pleasure. He lifts up panting heavily before gripping your hips and pounding into you. 

“Ch- ohh, please yes,” you gasp as your pleasure slams through you. 

“Fuck.” his nails dig into your hips when you pulse around him. “Keep going.” he grunts, wrapping a hand around your front to circle your bud. “Just want you to keep cumming on me.” he pants feeling you flutter around him. 

You can’t form any words but plenty of noises spill from your lips. Choso isn’t far behind you with all the panting and whines he breathes out. You’re so warm and so wet, hugging him so perfectly. You let out a small cry as pleasure tears through your body followed by him filling you with his warmth. He’s still softly jerking his hips making you both whine and tremble. 

“I don’t wanna pull out.” he mumbles into your neck. 

“Don’t.” you shake your head, relishing in his closeness. 

“We’re gonna flip you.” you sigh at the thought of moving around that much. 

“Just pull out real quick.” you wiggle your hips. 

“No, I got it.” you groan as he starts to maneuver you around. You’re both a mess of limbs for a minute but it wasn’t that hard surprisingly. “We did it.” he rests his hands on your back. 

“Mm,” you hum, letting your mind drift to sleep. 

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mahito

w/c: 1.8k - makes me sad that i can’t find any semi chill mahito fics like babes i get it, it’s him but like 🙄

You have to be the best human he’s ever encountered. The reason he started to care even a fraction of what human emotions were and what they meant. He planned on walking in the house and whining about his day but he spotted you through the window and a smile etched its way onto his face. He watched your eyes dart around the room and check your phone. Your small shorts rose up even further and your tank top doing nothing to cover you just made him want to watch you even more. 

He was supposed to be home ten minutes ago and you grab your phone to see if he messaged you. You look at the blank screen and toss it on the couch before grabbing your game console. You lean back into the couch and lose yourself to your game for a little while. A shiver trails down your spine and you look up from your screen but nothing is out of place. 

He knows if he told you he had a bad day you would dote on him but he wants to fix his bad day in a different way. He walks around the house looking at you from different angles and you snap your head up once more. He watches a small flush bloom across your chest and rise up to your cheeks. He stands in the same spot waiting to see if you’ll spot him but to no avail you look back at your game. 

You turn your attention back to your screen but you start to curl into yourself at the feeling of being watched. You squint your eyes and look out the windows knowing if you look hard enough you’ll be able to spot him. You groan when you can’t and just as you’re about to look back down at the screen you see his pale hair in the moonlight. He laughs wildly when your brows furrow and you huff, snatching up your phone. 

you: enough. get inside. 

mahito: im just playing a game. just like you’re playing your game. 

you: come play your game inside.

mahito: will you play along?

you: you’re a freak

mahito: so yes? 👉🏻👈🏻 

you: yes

You turn to look outside but he’s already gone from his spot. Your heart starts to thunder when there’s a tapping on the window pane but you find it empty. Your fingers grip onto your game console wishing he would just come inside already. There’s a loud thud from upstairs and you jump on the couch. You quickly put the game away and start to rise from the couch when you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs. You run into the kitchen and try to calm your breathing and relax the smile on your face. 

“Where’d you run off to?” he chuckles walking into the kitchen as you slip out into the hall. “Think I can’t hear how loud your heart is beating?” he grins and runs to the other side of the hall. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to run upstairs when there’s an intruder?” he catches a glimpse of your hair as you try to quietly climb the steps. 

You run up the stairs and dart down the hall hearing him laugh wildly behind you. He hears a door slam and grins preparing to play this out longer. He pushes each door open down the hall calling out your name in a sweet voice. He pushes open your bedroom door and hears your soft gasp. You’re just making this too fun by leaving your feet sticking out from under the bed. 

Each heavy footfall is making your adrenaline skyrocket. His boots stop directly in front of you and you press your hand over your mouth. You don’t know what he’s waiting for but with each passing second you feel like your heart is going to explode. You hear him doing something but can’t figure out what it is since he refuses to move. 

Mahito can practically taste your adrenaline in the air and it’s spurring him on. He stretches the upper half of his body and twists over the bed to slowly creep under it with you. Once his head makes it under the bed he almost ruins his fun by laughing at the way you’re staring at his boots. He continues to press forward and when he’s next to you he stares waiting for you to realize. Just as he reaches out for you he sees your spine straighten and your turn to him with genuine terror. 

“What’s wrong?” he tilts his head and fuck the scream you let out makes him even harder. 

You start to scramble out as he laughs before returning back to his normal form. By the time he’s righted himself you’re just getting to your feet and he grips onto your arm. You look up at him with round eyes and flushed cheeks and he grabs your cheeks tilting you further up. You're trembling as he leans down towards your lips before he turns to lick up the side of your face. 

“Take off your clothes.” he whispers in your ear and grins at your whine. He removes his hands from you and steps back to watch you take off your shorts and tank top. He steps closer and turns you around pressing your back against his chest. “Think I couldn’t see the wet patch on your shorts?” he chuckles, letting one of his hands slip between your thighs. 

“Please,” you jerk in his grasp when he slides a finger up your slit. 

“And you say I’m the freak.” he chuckles lowly. “Pussys fuckin crying for this.” he removes his hands once more to push you face first on the bed. “Ass up.” his palm lands on your ass with a loud smack before it lands again on your leaking center. 

You look over your shoulder with pink cheeks as he starts to undress. You shift your hips and he smacks your ass with a chuckle. He starts to fist his cock as he stares at your pussy propped up for him. He lets out a low groan as you place your hands behind your back for him. His eyes snap to yours as he steps closer and pushes inside of you in one motion relishing in the way your eyes squeeze shut at his stretch. One of his hands grips harshly on your hip while the other presses your wrists into your lower back. 

“Sucking me right in.” he pants as he starts to pound into you. 

His fingers dig into your flesh and you bury your head into the bed. He feels the way you’re squeezing him and starts to move faster. He loves to feel you pulse around him and that’s exactly what he’s chasing. His palm lands on your ass again watching the flesh redden as you clench around him and how his cock comes out more coated with every stroke. 

“Turn your head to the side. Wanna hear how much you like being used.” his palm lands down harshly on your ass and you gasp. 

“Mah-“ his name is lost as he spanks you particularly hard. “Please, please more,” he barks out a laugh as you push your hips back into him. 

Your toes curl as he hammers into you, sending your pleasure rushing towards you. He lets go of your wrists but you’re too caught up to realize. You hear mumbles from him of being a ‘good girl’ before his hand grips onto your other hip and he steals the air from your lungs at his ruthless speed. You can’t push your high off any longer and fall apart beneath him. 

“That’s it.” he falters, feeling your wetness, your warmth, leak out of you. He presses himself over the top of you feeling your body tremble and hum with pleasure. “Feels so fuckin good.” he’s stil slowly sliding in and out of you. “Wanna see your face when I ruin you.” he mumbles. 

You groan as he pulls out of you quickly. He watches your pussy leak and flutter around nothing, making his cock ache even more. His cock is glistening from your shared juices and he wants to plunge back into you but you still haven’t moved. He grabs your ankle and flips you, taking in your heaving chest and flushed cheeks. 

“Wanna kiss you.” you reach up to him but he bats your hand away. He grabs each of your legs and lifts them up to his shoulders before slamming back into you. “Hito, I-

“Feel fuckin perfect.” he watches your face scrunch as he pounds into you holding onto your legs. 

He leans down listening to your noises getting louder. You feel the stretch in your legs as he bends you and your breath catches. You feel every inch of his cock sliding in and out of your crying pussy. He can hear your heart beating so rapidly and he so badly wants to feel it beat through your chest. He extends one of his hands to press to the center of your chest and groans at the muscle pumping blood throughout your body. 

“Fuckin lucky I like you.” he pants, snapping his hips faster. “Wanna crack you open and watch your heart beat.” his words are starting to get slurred. “Maybe take- Maybe take it out and hold it.” you know he probably would and it sends your pleasure skyrocketing. 

You cum around him hard, mumbling his name and thanks. He snaps his hips faster before you hear his small giggle followed by him filling you. He removes his hand from your chest and spreads your legs to watch as his cock continues to slide in and out becoming more creamy with cum. He pulls out and lets go of your legs, enjoying as they limply fall back to the bed. 

He tugs you up the bed by your pillows and settles onto his side. You turn your head to the side and find him already looking at you. He leans over and presses his lips to yours. He doesn’t mind the act, he likes the noises you make when you get worked up but he’d rather just be inside you. Sometimes he’ll get bored and just elongate his tongue and shove it down your throat.

“Mahito.” you choke and lean back. “Supposed to be sweet to me after you fuck me like that.” you push his chest back. 

“I am.” he grins. “You asked for a kiss.” he leans in again. 

“A kiss.” you peck his lips. “Not to be choked.” 

“But you like that too.” he chuckles when your cheeks flush. “Had a bad day.” you watch his face soften ever so slightly before he rests his head over your heart. 

“ ‘s okay. I’m here.” you whisper before tangling your fingers in his hair. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

                                     masterlist

i fkn adored writing these 🤗🤭

[wetpussyju1ce]

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Raymond Smith x fem!reader

+18. mdni

note: quite obviously inspired by the movie of the same title from 2005. Ray and reader r married and secretly assassins behind each others back, until one day their real identities get exposed n they have to work through what it means for their marriage and relationship.

the whole street knew them as the cute couple that everyone wanted to hang out with during bbq parties, or when football was on and someone invited everyone to come and watch the game in their house. Ray was a gentleman through and through, always prepared, polite and reliable, whereas his other half was the more spontaneous one. She's easily the life of the party, sweet, friendly and warm.

and when they were together they were a sight to behold, Ray was one handsome fucker, slicked back soft hair and a thick beard, broad shoulders and kind yet intense eyes. His other half was simply gorgeous, brimming with youthful mirth, the one that somehow all young children gravitate to, always ready to play with them or offer snacks. 

Ray worked as an accountant in the city while his wife was a freelance artist as a cover, but both were actually assassins. She ran her own small business and even got to open a few galleries to show off her art, she was doing well, they were doing well. 

until one day they both ended up going after the same target, raymond was settled on top of a building, ready to put a hole in the target's skull until an ice cream van barrelled down the street, hitting the target's car and Raymond cursed. It all happened so fast, a hand poking out of the window of the van holding a gun, and Raymond didn't think, pulling the trigger, missing and nicking the person's hand, making them pull their hand back and shoot with the other, straight at him, almost taking out his left ear. How that person was able to see him from that far, and barely miss, was beyond him.

the next day over dinner, Raymond noticed his wife's bandaged finger, he froze and watched her happily chew the pasta he made and enjoy his homemade garlic bread.

“Love?” He said and she hummed, lifting her head to look at him, mouth full of pasta. 

“What happened to your finger?”

She froze and he saw something flash behind her eyes, she quickly chewed and swallowed her mouthful, “Hot glue gun got me,”

“Hm,” He slowly stood up and made his way around their dinner table, standing over her and reaching to hold her hand when she snatched it away, “It's still sensitive.”

“I just want to see how bad is it,” Ray said, tone neutral and stable.

“It's not too bad, I already cleaned it well and wrapped it pretty tight, I can't open the bandage to show you,” She explained, clutching her finger with her hand, and looking at him with her big Bambi eyes. He observed her carefully, about how open and honest she sounded and looked. There's no reason for Ray not to believe her. But then he had a gnawing feeling in his guts, and he learned a long time ago to never ignore it. 

So he smiled, “Dessert?”

She lit up, “Yes, please!”

He'll have to investigate later because he really wants to trust his wife, but he knows from experience not to ignore his gut feeling if he wants to keep on breathing. So for now, he'll serve his lovely wife dessert, clean the table and make love to her that same evening, like he always does. 

. 

. 

. 

“Where were you?”

Ray was greeted at 4 in the morning in his home by his wife standing in the kitchen, wearing his t-shirt and her undies, looking delicious as ever. if it was any other time Ray would already be balls deep inside his wife's perfect cunt, but it wasn't one of those times. 

instead he slammed his duffel down on the counter, in the middle of their kitchen, he opened the bag and took out a brick of clay, the type you can get from art stores, from the same brand that his wife likes the most. he then took his butterfly knife out of his pocket and easily sliced the thing open, and instead of bits of clay falling apart, a neatly wrapped pack of bullets fell with a clank. 

“Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is this?” Ray said, inhaling sharply and pointing at the bullets and the rest in the duffel bag with his knife. 

His wife didn't move, her arms crossed over her chest and looking at the bullet pack, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his and he frowned, moving a step back when he was met with icyness. 

She unfolded her arms and let them hang at her sides, licking her lower lip as Ray watched, knife in hand and heart hammering in his chest. 

“A regular civilian is not capable of finding that out,” She said and Ray’s fingers started itching, he was hot all over under his clothes and he was so close to doing something he's never done to the love of his life, to his wife, ever. 

“A regular civilian also can't own devices that can't be traced, or work in a company that doesn't fucking exist,” She spat, her previously warm eyes emitting nothing but danger, and all bells in Ray's mind rang loud and clear; he needed to kill her before she kills him.

It all happened so fast, her snatching one of Ray's fancy butcher knives that are magnetised to the wall and dodging Ray throwing the duffel bag at her. Knives sliced the air between them and Ray charged at his wife with everything he got, not holding back, twirling his knife quickly and fast in his fingers, from one hand to the other as he slowly walked her further inside the house, his wife walking backwards, knife in hand and a wild look in her eyes.

She grinned sharp and predatory, “No wonder you're so good with your fingers,”

Ray couldn't hold back his laugh, “What can I say, I'm a natural.”

“How did you figure it out?” She asked, the back of her knees hitting the sofa. 

“Be honest, how did you hurt your finger?” Ray asked. 

“Gunshot,” She answered and Ray didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned. 

“Sorry, babe. Didn't mean to nick you.” He said and watched as her eyes darkened, “You dickhead! Why did you shoot me?! I was after a fucking terrorist!” She shouted, almost giving him a new haircut as he dodged the knife, Ray knocked her off her feet, she fell with a grunt. “It's just protocol, eliminating anyone who gets between me and the target,” 

Ray was about to grab her when she wormed herself away at a fast speed, pushed her body up with ease and balled her fists in front of her, jumping on their glass coffee table, “What sort of fucking company do you work for? I could've been a civilian!”

“Listen– get your feet off the coffee table!” Ray warned. 

“Fuck the coffee table, it's ugly anyway!” She spat and slapped the knife off his hand quickly, and as soon as he lost his knife he jumped her, her own butcher knife flying in the air and landing buried in the sofa. 

Ray fought to hold her still but she was strong and squirmy, hitting him with her elbow on his side, a gasp was punched out of him and he decided then to not hold back, Ray gathered her in his arms and threw her across the room, breaking the window and bringing down the blinds.

When she got her footing back, she glared at him with the power of fifty suns, “I can't believe you hit your wife, Ray.”

“Last time I checked my wife wasn't an assassin,” Ray said, throwing his coat on the sofa and unbuttoning the first 4 fout buttons of his shirt, then rolled the sleeves watching his pretty wife wrap a ripped piece of fabric around both of her wrists, “Your hypocrite, you're an assassin too! And your name is probably not even Raymond Smith either!”

She grabbed Ray's favourite potted plant and threw it at his head, as he dodged the hit, he found himself embraced by his wife, her legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You know that won't work-” His voice quickly got cut off when she squeezed his neck with the remainings of the blinds, the white fabric pulling tight at his thick neck as he clawed at her to let go.

“Did you even love me? In those 5 years of marriage, was anything real?” She asked, squeezing harder until Ray slammed them both down on the ground, bruising her back, she screamed and he took that second to get her hands off him, finally gulping oxygen into his lungs, “Yes! Yes, I fucking did!”

“Then why didn't you tell me?! Why did you hide??” She shouted, eyes brimming with tears at being slammed down on her back, but also at the anger at being lied to. 

“To protect you, that's why! I can't tell my bride I was a killer, what sort of girl would marry a man like that?!” Raymond said, hovering above her, hair dishevelled and eyes wild. 

She then started giggling, giggling for the love of God. “Ray, my love, the light of my life,” She said, holding his face in her hands, Ray feeling his chest burn at the overwhelming emotions he was feeling, “You told me you were an accountant and I married you. If a girl is willing to marry an accountant, she'll marry an assassin,”

Ray didn't mean to laugh, his eyes burning with unshed tears as she brought his face lower and kissed him gently on the lips, and for a moment everything was okay. 

That's when she decided to grab him and flip them around, squeezing his head between her thighs and pulling at his arm, hard. 

“Even though I really did love you. Don't even think I'll let you go, now. I'm not a civilian, baby, and you'll do well to remember that.” She threatened and Ray grinned, he won't have her any other way. 

He brought his free arm up and squeezed at her naked thigh, “Are we fighting or fucking? I'm getting mixed signals here.”

“Oh, can it, Mr Smith,” She squeezed his head tighter, cutting off his oxygen as he gasped and relaxed her hold, just to give him a taste of what's to come if he tries to run away. 

Their short moment of peace was erupted with a rain of bullets. Raymond both threw them on the ground, under the range of the gunfire. 

“What the fuck!” She cursed and when the gunfire finally stopped, Raymond dragged her up the stairs and the gunfire resumed as they tried not to get hit, “Meet me in my studio, okay?” She said and Ray nodded, turning to get to their bedroom, to probably, well, most definitely get a gun. She was about to turn around when he grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her hard, when he pulled away she grinned, her cheeks warming up.

“Go on, then.” He smirked, patting her cheek and sneaking to their bedroom as she made her way to the studio, quickly grabbing every hidden weapon in the room and shoving it all in a backpack, she opened the window and hopped on her desk, and looked outside, immediately spotting guys from her organisation, and others most definitely from Ray's firm. And, they definitely weren't here for tea. 

She quickly loaded her gun and waited on her desk for Ray, the wind making her shiver under her t-shirt and undies. She was totally barefoot too, but she'll worry about that later. 

“Mr. & Mrs. Smith! Come out whenever you are! You know the rules! No banging the competition!” A voice called out and she cursed under her breath, then gunshots resumed, in that moment Ray walked inside the studio, greeted by her gunpoint, “Let's go,” He placed her pair of Uggs in her lap and nodded at the window facing their garage. 

“That's what took you so long? My fucking shoes?“ She said, quickly slipping them on and hopping out of the window, walking slowly on the roof to then jump down behind the house. “You're not walking barefoot in the streets, it's really unsanitary.” Raymond said, disgusted. 

They sneaked inside the garage, getting inside the car, Ray in the driver's seat and her in the passenger's, with the two bags of weapons and other stuff by her feet as the garage door opened up automatically, catching the attention of the other assassins, “Put your seatbelt on,” Ray said, absolutely running over anyone jumping in front of their Mercedes as she shot them out of her window, Ray driving furiously down their street. 

“You got me shoes but didn't think to get me trousers?” She said, pointing at her lap, she was still wearing underwear.

“You look great, don't worry.” He shrugged as she glared at him, “My ass is freezing, just so you know.”

“I'll warm it up for you later.” Ray said, smoothly driving down the empty road, looking at the rear mirror every minute or so, making sure they were not being chased.

I really wanted to write something for like secret spy AU or something. but didn't know how to do it. only that I wanted it to be funny n sexy in a way. so I luckily remembered that Mr and Mrs Smith 2005 was still in my watchlist. so I watched the movie and immediately wrote this after finishing the movie. and I used Ray Smith cuz his name is ALREADY smith and I'm in love w him so yeah 😍😩

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

10. Always worth your time 💌

If arrogance is a cloak, he wears it proudly

A golden smile with silver teeth approaches you. His ginger hair falls smoothly in elegant curls, draping near the white headphones over his neck. His red top contrasts the blue hues of his eyes, followed by an expensive car that pops out in the background.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was made with money.

“Heard you need a ride?” His teasing tone continues.

You grin, “I recall, saying no?”

He shrugs, before grabbing your bag from your shoulder, and walking to the passenger seat, holding the door open for you, “And I recall not responding, so where are we going?”

“Supposedly at my student’s house for a tutoring session, but her mother cancelled.”

He gasps sarcastically, “Then I get to have you all to myself today?”

“By whose words?”

“Mine.”

“It better be worth my time.”

He winks, “I’m always worth your time.”

—

If spontaneous is a person, you’ve met him.

“You broke the damn machine!” You whisper-yell to the ginger in front of you whose jaw almost reaches the floor as he looks from left to right, checking for prying eyes.

He sighs in disappointment while sliding the palm of his hand on the window of the claw machine, observing how the plush toy drops back to its friends, “I wanted the duck.”

“You can’t have everything in life.”

“Yes I can.”

You shake your head, “It won’t even scan your card. I think that’s a sign that we need to leave. Besides, these games are a scam.”

“99% of gamblers quit before they win,” He scans his arcade card once again. It’s like arguing with a brick wall. Miraculously, the once “broken” machine finally activates.

You raise a brow, “Embarrassing yourself again?”

He rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms before circling his right shoulder back and forth, “Watch.”

His gaze focuses on the yellow duck, carefully aligning the metal claw before squinting and pacing around the machine, looking through each window from every angle.

You pinch the bridge of your nose while trying to stifle a laughter.

Then, he presses the button.

Two pairs of eyes follow the claw machine descend, grabbing the toy. It feels like at any moment the metal grip will slip, but it doesn’t.

Because the duck drops in the prize hole.

Childe falls to his knees before thanking the gods above, whispering sweet nothings in the air repeatedly.

Strangers ranging from kids to teens pass by with knitted brows, deciphering the scene in front of them. It takes you courage not to walk away and pretend you never met the ginger.

Thankfully, he stands up and hands you the duck.

“Didn’t you want this?” You ask.

“I did. I wanted it for you.”

“Oh, I—“

“There’s a photo booth over there. We should take a picture,” He points to the silver booth across the arcade before slipping his fingers between your own and dragging you towards his desired destination.

He continues talking, but every word becomes a void. Your thoughts are frozen. Eyes trained on one thing: his soft hands holding yours as his thumb gently circle your skin while he remains unaware.

“Are you feeling well?” He tilts his head, scanning your face for signs of discomfort.

You don’t even notice you’re inside the booth, “Of course! Let’s start.”

He nods, “Alright, what pose should we do?

You scan the tiny space until you spot a box underneath the bench, “Wait! They have props.”

You snatch a Minnie Mouse headband, adjusting it on your head, while he leisurely grabs the Matching Mickey Mouse version.

“Does it have to be the mouse?”

You chuckle, “Scared to relive the past?”

“Shut up.”

The screen starts counting down as you adjust inside the camera’s frame. Childe follows suit before placing his right arm around your shoulder, featuring a genuine grin.

“We should do a couples pose.”

You elbow his stomach, “You wish.”

Four more pictures were taken until the booth starts printing each one in a row.

“Should we grab lunch?” You ask, realizing the time after opening your phone for the first time since arriving.

“Yeah…” He leads the both of you towards the exit. The photo strips on his hands as he scans them individually.

In the first picture you’re wearing the matching Mickey Mouse headpieces.

In the second frame, he makes a giant heart with his left arm, expecting you to finish it. Instead, you do a thumbs up, grinning at him while he smiles tenderly back.

In the third photo your backs are against one another while making gun poses like Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’re wearing black glasses with a serious expression and he is laughing with messy hair covering one eye.

In the fourth picture, he’s on his knees once again—both hands up in the air as you strangle him on the neck.

In the last picture, he’s wearing a fox hat while you’re wearing a bunny head piece, referencing Jude Hopps and Nick Wilde. His right arm is resting on the top of your head, smirking as you pout, looking up at him.

“Is it that special?”

He hums, eyes still glued on the photos, admiring your beauty, “Very.”

If attraction is a season, now he knows why leaves fall in autumn.

NOTES:

i’m back lol i hope all of you are doing well 😍

i failed my calc test, my grade went from a 96 to an 88, i’m TWEAKING but it’s okay IM COOKED (the asian in me wasn’t working today bruh) i was born a writer not a mathematician. but i’ll bring it up trust

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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[tayraedoll]

My Compliments to the Chef

Part 2 of the series- You go on your date; Alastor gives you some unusual cooking lessons and the ovens aren't the only things getting hot.

Part 1

TW: Self-consciousness, mild sexual situations, sensory deprivation, flashbacks, hurt/comfort, swearing

You stared down at the dress on your bed. It had been neatly laid out when you returned to your room the night before with a message scrawled in the most elegant handwriting you had ever seen:

Don't be late Darling - A

The dress was gorgeous- all black with a halter top, knee-length pleated skirt, and a thin belt around the middle. The fabric felt sturdy, no doubt it was expensive. He even gifted you a pair of black stilettos to pair with it.

You bit your lip nervously, of course you were nervous about going on a date with Alastor, but what caused your heart rate to spike at the moment was the thought of wearing this dress. It was definitely considered modest-to Alastor's taste- but the halter top would show the entirety of your arms...there was no way to hide the scars that littered your skin. Could you wear a jacket? Would that be considered rude?

You sighed, if you didn't get changed soon then you would be late...and you did not want to find out what Alastor would do if you kept him waiting after he explicitly told you to be on time. You paired the dress with simple silver hoop earrings and a bracelet and dabbed on dark merlot-red lipstick. Overall you looked good...if you could ignore your arms. You swiftly left the bathroom, not wanting to look in the mirror more than necessary. Snatching a small clutch you made your way to the lobby.

You caught sight of Alastor as you descended the stairs- he had traded his normal red pinstriped suit for a black one with coattails. He wore a bright red bow tie and he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail that exposed his undercut. You were so preoccupied with ogling at him that you missed a step and had to catch yourself on the railing to save yourself from an embarrassing fall the rest of the way down the staircase.

When you safely reach the ground level Alastor turns with a cheerful grin and confidently strides up to you, "You look absolutely ravishing Darling!" His hand reached for yours and gently brought it to his lips. "Give us a twirl!", he raised your hand above your head and you slowly rotated on the toe of one heel for him, a happy smile curling across your own face at his antics. "Tu es magnifique."

You blush at the barrage of compliments and nervously cough,"Shall we go then?", you start towards the door only for for the demon deer to wrap an arm around your waist.

"Nuh-uh-uh! Not that way My Dear! I would not subject you to walking in those shoes all the way across the Pride Ring. No, we shall be traveling in style!", he adjusted his bow tie and puffed out his chest. He pulled you flush against him and leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Hold on tight Darling."

You gasp as your vision suddenly went black and your feet were no longer on solid ground. Your grip on Alastor's coat was iron-clad as you reacted to the sudden weightlessness of your body. Then, just as soon as it began it was over, but instead of being in the hotel lobby you found yourself on the sidewalk outside a beautiful white-brick building. You were so busy taking in your new surroundings you didn't notice that you never let go of Alastor until he chuckled at you, "Oh! Sorry!", you jumped away from him and hid your blush by smoothing your dress down.

Alastor approached the little mouse demon hostess, she looked up at the much taller demon with a friendly smile, "Good evening Mr. Alastor sir! We have your table ready!" She hopped off her stool, barely coming up to The Radio Demon's knees, to lead the way to your dinner table.

The inside of the restaurant was just as stunning as the outside. It was all polished birch wood with black and gold accents and was dimly lit except for a small stage with a live pianist playing a relaxing tune. The chairs were dark with gold cushions, the tables adorned with white tablecloths, gold napkins, and black roses served as the centerpieces.

The hostess deftly placed the menus on the table and filled the water glasses, "Your server will be right with you!" Alastor held your chair out and motioned for you to take a seat before pushing it in.

"Oh Al, this place is breathtaking!", you take one last awed look around before unfolding your menu.

"Hmm yes, this place is certainly a bit of a hidden gem. There are certain types that won't give it a fair chance due to the staff actually."

"What do you mean?", you give him a perplexed look.

Just then, another cheerful mouse demoness approached your table, but she was significantly taller than the hostess. No, not a mouse...a rat. "Ah Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!", she chirped. "And who is it you've brought with you? She sounds lovely!", the rat turned to you then, her eyes were completely white and foggy as if she had milk on her lenses. It took you a second to understand- she was completely blind.

"Tilly, my dear friend! This is Y/N, she is a chef as well and I thought I'd bring her here tonight to experience all La Rodere has to offer", Alastor smiled kindly between you and Tilly despite her not being able to see it. "I'll just have my usual Tilly, if you don't mind. Although, perhaps a bottle of champagne instead of whiskey tonight."

"Of course! And what can I get you Sweetheart?", she faced you expectantly.

You quickly glance at the menu again,"Could I get the Poulet a la Moutard Francaise please?"

"Yes ma'am! It's a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I do hope you enjoy yourself this evening!", with that Tilly scampered off to fetch the champagne and turn in your order.

"You have impeccable taste My Dear", Alastor eyed you slyly.

"I take it that is your usual order?", you smiled over your glass of water at him.

"Correct! Now come along, or we will miss the show!", he grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the swinging doors that hid the kitchen from the dining area.

"Alastor! I don't think they would want us back there!", you admonished the chaotic demon.

"Nonsense! I join the kitchen all the time Darling! HAHAHA", he laughed at your bewildered face. "I assure you, you are in for quite a treat."

Upon entering the kitchen you were met with a small kitchen that was neatly kept. The smells of all the French cuisine hit your nose warmly causing you to take a deep breath in. Cozy- that was how you would describe this kitchen. There were three other rat demons similar to Tilly working at the space's center. Two more with the milky eyes and one with jet black eyes.

"Y/N, meet Tilly's siblings- Lilly, Billie, and Stew. They will be preparing our meals tonight!", Alastor introduced you, though none of the three chefs reacted to your presence at all. There was something that just seemed...off, but you couldn't decide what it was.

Just then, Tilly came in and joined her siblings at the center of the kitchen. A copy of the restaurants menu was laid out on the counter, she skimmed over the menu with with her fingers until she found the dish that you and Alastor chose. The rat with the beady, black eyes glanced at the item Tilly pointed to and began preparing the chicken and the mustard sauce. Once you began to get your first whiffs of the food, the third rat started blending various spices together, not using any measuring tools at all and continuously taking large sniffs at the mixture.

"What's happening Al?"

"You may be familiar with the three blind mice, but what about the four rats with only one sense each?", Alastor chuckled at you.

"One sense? What do you mean?", you ask as the rodent with the spices let out a hum of approval and mixed the blend into the dish. The beady-eyed rat then placed it in the oven to finish cooking.

"Tilly is the only one that can hear, hence the reason she takes the orders. Her sister Lilly is the only one that can see, so she begins the dish preparations and does the plating. Billie, being both blind and deaf, has a peculiar sense of smell. She does all the spice blends and knows when the dish is ready to plate and serve", Alastor explained as you watched on completely mesmerized. Just like he said, Billie clasped Lilly on the arm, which Lilly responded to by immediately pulling the food out not even bothering to temp it.

"So what does Stew do?", you nod to the last rat in the group.

"Oh, Stew has the most important job of all! Not a dish goes out that he does not taste test first!"

Lilly placed a spoon in the mustard sauce and lifted it to Stew's lips; he paused momentarily as the sauce caressed his taste buds. He reached out and felt around various spices with different tops in front of him until he found the salt which he sprinkled over the top of the dish before nodding his approval. Lilly divided the food between two plates and handed them to Tilly.

"Your dinner is ready!", she cheerfully called to the two of you. Alastor placed your arm through his and led you back to your table where your champagne was already waiting. He once again pulled your chair out for you and tucked you under the table before taking his seat.

The food was positively divine, possibly the best you had ever eaten. You chewed slowly, savoring each bite; thinking of how each individual leaned into their strengths to pull the meal together flawlessly.

"Penny for your thoughts my Dear?", Alastor broke you from your reverie.

You smirked back at him, "Are my thoughts worth so little?" Your smile softens as he laughs, but then you frown. "I feel sorry for them...I can't imagine only having one sense. Not only in everyday life but in the kitchen especially; part of what makes being a chef so fun is getting to use all the senses to create a masterpiece."

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose, but they all get to enjoy it in their own way. The unique artistry of their preparations is a large part of why I am so fond of this place."

You reached a hand out to his slowly, allowing him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn't as your fingers tentatively caressed the back of his hand, "Thank you for bringing me here, I feel honored that you have entrusted me with one of your secret indulgences."

His other hand came up to run his claws over your hand, you flinch back slightly when they run over the exposed, red skin of your arm. It did not hurt, but you were afraid it would repulse him. You bring your hand back to yourself and shift uncomfortably for a second, skin tingling slightly. You don't notice the crimson eyes studying your reaction.

"There's a reason I brought you here specifically, your training begins tomorrow."

Your head snaps back up to him,"What training?"

You stand there in the kitchen nervously, wondering what Alastor was going to have you make. The prospect of cooking for The Radio Demon thrilled you, there was so much that you could learn from someone with his experience. But the anxiety gnawed at you, he made it clear he was not a fan of your cooking, what were you supposed to make to impress him?

"Ah good evening My Dear!", speak of the demon himself..."What are we making today?"

Oh? He was planning on cooking WITH you?! This was an unexpected but exciting turn of events; there were so many advanced dishes he could help you with!

"OOO maybe a turducken?! I have always wanted to try making one! We could start with- OW!!", Alastor had flicked you right between the eyes rather hard, your hand flying up to rub the sore spot on your forehead.

"No, we are not teaming up to make some ridiculous frankendish monstrosity. We are here so that you can learn how to speak through your dishes. Put yourself on a plate! Now, what is something you enjoy cooking? What's a dish that you enjoy eating? Not for how pretty it is or how well you have mastered it, but something that you feel genuine emotion for? Preferably something simple."

You frowned at him, a dish you were emotional about? You had to think, most dishes that evoked any emotion in you conjured negative feelings due to failing at them. You highly doubted that's what he had in mind. After a moment, an idea finally popped into your head, "What about tuna melts? I used to make them all the time when I was in culinary school, they were fast and easy to make between classes."

"Excellent! Tell me, what are the ingredients?"

As you listed your ingredients off they suddenly appeared on the table one-by-one. After all ingredients were gathered you set out to start your prep when Alastor grabbed your arm, "Not so fast Dear, there is one more thing I did not tell you." With a snap of his fingers, your vision was suddenly non-existent. You gabbed onto the counter to ground yourself as your world suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Alastor! What the fuck are you doing?! I can't cook if I can't see!"

"Oh, but you can Darling! You just witnessed two blind rats cook yesterday!"

"Lilly did the cooking and she had sight!"

"Well, then it is a good thing I am here! I shall be your eyes today", he leaned in close, his chest just centimeters from your back. An expected shiver traveled up your spine as if his static was prickling directly at your skin. "You worry too much about aesthetic perfection, hone in on your other senses for a bit. Learn to let go."

You bit your lip in contemplation, "You won't let me hurt myself right?"

You felt more than heard his low chuckle vibrate across your shoulders, giving you another involuntary shiver. His fingers trailed down your sleeve-covered arms to where your hands still gripped the counter, "I promise no blood will be spilled this day."

Your breath hitched slightly as he dislodged your fingers from the counter, as your posture straightened you back became flush with his chest. Was he always this much taller than you? It felt like he was towering over you, his breath caressing your scalp and blowing your hair slightly. He leaned impossibly closer to you, "Now, walk me through how to make this dish."

His hands guided yours through cutting your french loaves. You focused intently on your sense of smell, trying to gauge when just the right amount of garlic was added to your butter when it became fragrant. It was hard to concentrate on the food though, with Alastor's cologne filling your nostrils with every inhale. You felt the demon flinch back slightly when you opened the cans of tuna.

"You sustained yourself by consuming cat food?", he asked incredulously.

"Hey! It's actually really good! Besides, you don't get to complain when you are a broke college student. These cans were less than a dollar each!", you laugh, reminiscing about your college days scraping together pennies just to fill your fridge.

"Hmm, perhaps you should have contemplated eating your teachers instead. The ones you didn't care for anyways."

He helped you mix and spread the tuna across the bread loaves, topping them with cheddar slices before popping them in the oven. Even when you weren't using your hands his touch lingered, as if he didn't want to let you go.

You pulled the melts out of the oven when you heard the cheese bubbling, the bread gave a satisfying crunch when you cut the sandwiches in half. Your first bite transported you back to culinary school, you could picture yourself scarfing your sandwich down before your next class began. A mixture of anxiety, determination, and exhaustion consumed you, an emotional cocktail that you were intimately familiar with during that time in your life.

"Hm! I suppose the cat food is edible", Alastor snarked from behind you as he ate his own sandwich. "It reminds me of a seafood dish we ate mixed with peas during The Great Depression, however, this is more elevated. I can imagine you struggling to get by financially and turning to this dish to satiate your hunger. I can finally taste you in this meal...good job Y/N."

You smiled at the long-awaited compliment, with another snap of his fingers your sight was restored. Sadly, that meant that Alastor stepped away from you and you lamented the loss of contact.

"Now, just two more senses to vanquish! Make sure to think of two more meals that hold a special place in your heart. Good work today my dear!", a surprised yelp ripped out your throat as his cane gently smacked your ass on his way to the door. Did he seriously just-?! But before you could confront him about it he was gone, leaving nothing but a manic chuckle behind.

The next evening you waited for the deer demon impatiently, your thumb tapping against the the opposite bicep. What was that yesterday? The memory of how close Alastor was to you played over and over in your mind. How the heat of his chest seeped into the flesh of your back, how his claws tingled as they traced down your arms. But mostly you thought of how his hands felt holding yours; how the muscles and tendons flexed as he moved you around...how the strength of them left little doubt about what others things he could make you do with so little resistance...

"My, my- someone's a bit jittery today!"

Alastor's voice made you jump, your mind scrambling to abandon the train of thought you were on.

"A-Alastor! Hi! Er-yes, just excited for our next lesson is all!", you laugh nervously. "Today I was thinking of making salmon and risotto bowls. It was what I cooked to win that scholarship to culinary school."

"Excellent choice My Dear! I must say I quite like your affinity for seafood. Now, lets begin", he snapped and your world, once again, fell dark.

"Uh Alastor? Weren't you supposed to take a different sense away? I worked blindly yesterday already!"

"Hmm yes you did, but you will find that I did take another sense away. As for your sight well...", he leaned in close, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear "...perhaps I just like you this way."

You exhale shakily, the air around you feeling thick, the tension weighing on your shoulders. You took a few deep breaths to calm your heart rate; as if sensing your distress, Alastor straightened up to put some distance between you but maintained the looming presence behind you as he took your hands and helped you through making your dish. You leaned in to smell the fish to check the seasoning when you realized you couldn't smell a thing. You were completely dependent on your hearing alone to cook. Your mind raced as you struggled to figure out a plan of action to continue.

Alastor leaned into you once again, whispering into your ear "Surrender completely, my dear listener, let the food sing you a melody. And trust me as your host of this experience, I promise I won't steer you wrong." He gently carded a claw through your hair, pulling a stand back behind your ear and leaving goosebumps along the flesh of your scalp and causing the little hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

You lean back against him, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest ground you as you match your breathing to his. As you concentrate on inhaling, the sounds of the kitchen begin to register. You could hear the risotto gently bubbling in the pan, the popping getting closer together as the liquid reduced- telling you it was time to add a bit more stock.

"Help me add more stock to the rice and test the heat of the pan", your voice was barely above a whisper. The demon behind you responded immediately, hands gently holding your wrists leading you through the motions. The water evaporated from the pan immediately, the sharp sizzle telling you it was time to add the oil and fish.

True to his word, Alastor kept hold of you through the whole process, as soon as you told him what you needed to do based on what you heard he immediately complied. You moved through the kitchen together locked in a strange dance; the food cooking, your small whispers, and his radio static the only sounds in the small space.

You choked on your first bite, your mind immediately going back to 18-year-old you. You remembered exactly how you felt when you were announced the winner of that scholarship, the day your entire life turned around...right before it all went up in flames. You weren't even aware of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you suddenly regained vision and Alastor was right in front of you. His hands tenderly held your face as he gently used his thumbs to wipe away your tears. He stared down at you intently but with a tenderness in his eyes you had never seen before. The next thing you knew you had your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as you sobbed into his coat. Years of trauma and repressed emotions finally letting loose, you sobbed until you had nothing else left in you. All the while Alastor just held you, never saying a word and never casting any judgement.

When your tears dried and your sobs completely quieted, The Radio Demon pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted your head back to look at him, "Our final lesson is tomorrow. Think of one more meal Mon Cher."

Your hands kept running through your hair, you almost felt sick with anxiety about today's lesson. When was the last time you cried? Probably when Grandma died, and even then you hid away in the bathroom, cleaning your face at the vanity before exiting so you could be the strong, older sister that your siblings needed. And then you just fell to pieces in front of Alastor, full-on ugly cried into The Radio Demon's coat! Your face flushed in embarrassment, you'd have to apologize to him.

Time kept ticking...he always arrived right on time, but today he was officially late. Great, your emotional outburst scared him off. Your hands fisted in your hair as you clenched your teeth to swallow the frustrated growl that threatened to rip out of your throat.

Just as you were about to run out of the kitchen (again) the Overlord finally walked through the door, he was practically running at the pace he moved at. He looked a bit disheveled himself, like he was in a hurry. He's probably in a hurry to get this over with and get away from you. You shook your head, you didn't want to entertain that thought. You opened your mouth to apologize for your breakdown but he beat you to it "What is the meal today?"

"Ummm...lamb chops with garlic smashed potatoes. It was Grandma's favorite, she normally paired it with Merlot. Look Al, I'm really sorry-", you were suddenly cut off when Alastor gripped your biceps, his hold was firm but not painful. His eyes held the same intensity they did the other day.

"Do you trust me?", his eyes bored into yours, reading every micro-expression your face made as you thought of the answer.

"With my life", you murmured softly, feeling the tears spring into your eyes again. His hand came up to cup your face once more.

"Good, please remember that I will never put you in harms way. Just...trust me", you heard his fingers snap and your world entered the now-familiar darkness. It was different this time though, you stood frozen for a few seconds before you realized what was off. Your hearing also left with your vision, this is how it felt to be Billie and Stew- deaf and blind.

Alastor? Your own voice did not register in your ears; there was no way to know if you had said his name out loud at all. The only thing your ears picked up was the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins. You heard your heart rate spike as panic started to creep into your mind. Alastor!

You felt the comforting pressure of hands on your shoulders, you were so used to these hands being on you now that you were sure you'd recognize his touch in a line-up at this point. He gently pushed you down to take a seat which confused you- weren't you supposed to be cooking?

Then you felt something touch your lips, you flinched back, causing liquid to spill down your chin from the whatever it was. Long, clawed fingers gripped your jaw to force you to stay still as the liquid met your lips once more. Red wine...Merlot, just like Grandma taught you to pair with red meat. Realization finally dawned on you, your sensory assignment today was taste...and you weren't cooking but being FED.

A claw gently dipped your bottom lip, a thumb brushing over your tongue to coat it in the spice mix for the lamb. You stopped breathing completely, your mind short-circuiting at the thought of Alastor sticking his thumb into your mouth. In an act of bravery you slowly slid your tongue over the digit letting out a hum of approval at the spices that coated your palate.

A glass was slowly transferred into your hand, the Merlot serving to keep your mind occupied as he cooked. You took the time to pick each component of the wine apart- cherry, chocolate, and plum notes. A hint of blackberry and tobacco in the aroma.

Even though you were temporarily blind and deaf, you sensed when he returned to you; it was as if his static aura seeped into your skin, alerting your body to his presence even when there was no way of noticing his approach. A hand cupped your jaw and pushed on your cheeks, gently prying your mouth open. The lamb was warm, definitely medium rare based on the texture, the musky taste of the lamb paired perfectly with the garlic, salt, and pepper seasonings it was coated in. The potatoes were crispy with a warm butter flavor, sour cream and cheese used to top them. The meal felt like home- familiar and warm; memories of cooking with Grandma flashed in your head. You felt the smile that split your face, your chest vibrated with laughter that you couldn't hear.

A hand gripped yours and pulled gently, you carefully stood up and let him lead you a short distance before pulling you down again...this time onto his lap. Your heart skipped a beat, you were sitting on The Radio Demon's lap...how? why?...what was happening?

You felt your eyes dance around frantically, trying to find him in the dark, asking for him to restore your sight so you could gauge his reactions and body language to try to make some sense of what he was thinking. Then you felt them, a barely-there brush of lips against yours but definitely lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. As quickly as they appeared they were gone; your hands traveled up along his jacket and shirt buttons before coming to a rest on his collarbones.

Suddenly, his fingers tangled into your hair and pulled your head back so that he could meet your lips more head-on. Alastor sealed this kiss with more force, holding your head so that you couldn't put any space between you two. You melted into him, parting your lips to give him access when you were caught by surprise; instead of his tongue entering your mouth a warm, full-bodied liquid tasting of cherry and chocolate poured from his mouth into yours- the Merlot. He had taken a sip of the wine and was pouring it directly into you. Your throat vibrated in a moan, his tongue quickly sweeping into your mouth once you swallowed the wine he fed you. Never had a wine tasted so good as when it came from Alastor's lips.

This dance continued a few more times, each kiss becoming more frantic and desperate with teeth gnashing together and tongues exploring every crevice of the other's mouth. You moved so you were straddling his hips, hands holding onto his lapels so he couldn't disappear on you.

The sensation of weightlessness whirled around you- his shadow magic you quickly realized. When you were grounded again your sight and hearing were restored but you didn't recognize your surroundings. You found yourself in a room of different red tones, with a large fireplace and armchairs in front of it and a desk off to the side. Beyond the typical room furnishings was a forest, the whole scene looked peculiar and distorted. How fitting for his room to resemble himself so much. You turned back to the demon whose room your inexplicably found yourself in...and he was looking back at you like you were the first meal he's seen in weeks.

Part 3 coming soon...there will be smut.

@voxslays

@ladyadrasteia666

@angeldustharmony

@milkissesx

[a-leg-without-fear]

You Can Sleep Here Tonight🪻

my baby.... i love van helsing SO MUCH!!!! this movie is honestly top 10 for me

Ship: Gabriel Van Helsing x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: violence, use of acid, monsters, stabbing, blood, bit of flirting

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Black quills soared over Gabriel's head as he barely dodged the onslaught. Barb after barb whistling through the air just past his left shoulder. A rough grunt coughed up his throat as he stood from the cobblestones.

He was met by the long arc of claws slashing at his chest. Arms with three, long talons hooked at the ends whirled at Gabriel. The hunter backed away on light feet. Snarls from his foe echoed around the brick alley Van Helsing had found himself in.

Lean muscles along his thigh stretched when he planted a strong kick to the chupacabra's abdomen. Its reptilian skin offered little to no rebound, its hide as thick as tanned leather. Large, black, soulless eyes reflected Gabriel's harrowed expression back at him. Three elongated teeth dripped slobber onto his boot.

A slash at Gabriel's foot made him pull away. He made a mental note to thoroughly scrub his boots later. The brick wall dug into the material of his coat as he backed up from the chupacabra. His mind raced with thousands of ways to advance this fight, to come out victorious.

The chupacabra crouching in preparation to charge dashed any swirling thoughts from Gabriel's mind. He watched, anticipation burning under his skin, as the creature readied itself to launch. One moment, two, then it leaped.

Gabriel rolled out of the path of the monster. Stones scraped along the leathers he'd adorned himself with. His head snapped up, long hair falling away from his face in strands of chestnut, as he watched the chupacabra. The creature collided with the bricks in a loud thud. Barely audible crunches crackling along the strong bones running through its body.

It fell to the ground in a heap of leathery skin and black quills. Van Helsing scrambled to his feet, gloved hands digging into his coat pockets. He backed a healthy distance away.

Finally. His fist produced a glass vial from one of his lapel pockets. Palm sized, glass clouded, filled with a viscous grey liquid. The cork plugged into the neck was primed to pop off with the slightest touch.

"Look out!" Gabriel heard you shout from the mouth of the alley. He looked up just in time to see the chupacabra reorient itself towards him, fangs dripping onto the stones. Its claws dug deep gouges into the ground as it galloped towards the hunter on all fours.

Van Helsing reared back, vial grasped in his large hand, before he flung it at the monster. The glass sailed through the air in a short arc, moonlight glinting off the projectile.

Glass shattered against the chupacabra's broad chest. The impact was immediately met with a sickening sizzle as the liquid burned into the creature's hide. Smoke poured from the rapidly growing hole in its thick skin. Yellow, stringy flesh emerged from beneath the leathery hide.

The monster howled as it collapsed to the ground. Ear-piercing shrieks and loud bellows shot from its toothy maw. Its clawed appendages thrashed around in agony.

"The stake! Now!" Gabriel exclaimed in your direction. Silver flashed as you scooped the stake off the ground, the metal rod clutched in your shaking hands.

He snatched it out of the air after you lobbed it in Gabriel's general direction. The hunter approached the monster, looming over the flailing beast like a jagged mountain over a desolate valley.

Flesh squelched when the stake was jabbed into the chupacabra's chest. One last shriek erupted from the creature's mouth, the silver finding its mark in the monster's heart, before it went deathly still. Its hide continued to hiss in the quiet, night air.

For the first time since the fight had started, Gabriel allowed himself to breathe. Acrid smoke rising from the chupacabra's body burrowed into his sinuses. He winced, standing from the creature's body and pulling his mask down before the smell got a foothold in the fabric.

"Th-Thank you," you stammered from across the alley. The hem of your dress was in tatters, thanks to the now dead creature at Van Helsing's feet, and a slash through the bodice left bits of your chest exposed. Trembling arms clutched at the torn fabric to keep it in place.

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked, stepping around the carcass in your direction. His drying boots clipped along the cobblestones. He stopped short of where the alley ended and you stood, just beyond the entrance. Passing coaches and glowing streetlamps painted the world behind you in picturesque strokes.

"I'm fine, thanks to you. What was that thing?" you questioned. The tremor had abandoned your voice, leaving a strong timbre in its place. You peered over Gabriel's shoulder at the still-smoking body.

The hunter smirked, stepping back on his heel, "A chupacabra. Unfortunately common in these parts," he began. He pivoted to face the creature in question. He felt your stare as he walked back to his quarry, "Got reports of drained livestock and missing children in this area. So, the Church sent me to handle it. This was the last one in the nest I found a few days ago. Managed to slip away before I could kill it."

You watched with wide eyes as Van Helsing yanked the stake from the chupacabra's disintegrating body, "You do this often?"

"More often than I'd like," he replied easily. Liquid flesh sloughed off the silver when he shook the stake. Splashes of off-yellow covered the stones in a disgusting splotch of sizzling meat. The hunter remained unphased by the abhorrent display.

"What was in that vial you threw?" you asked, continuing your interrogation. Gabriel sighed as he stood, turning back around to face you.

"A mixture of boiled chupacabra quills and holy water. Only that combination is enough to burn away its thick hide. Then, one quick stab with some silver, and it's dead. Satisfied?" he explained with annoyance dripping from his tone.

You blew a sigh at a strand of hair covering your face, "I suppose I am, Mr.Monster-Hunter. You got a name?"

"Van Helsing," Gabriel answered. He tucked the stake back amongst the copious pockets lining the inside of his coat. The silver slid into place along three other stakes of similar size.

"Well, Van Helsing. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

His hazel eyes widened as they met yours, "What?"

"Seeings as you just saved my life, I figure that I at least owe you a meal and a comfortable bed," you explained, shrugging.

"That's really not necessary," Gabriel said with a grunt, trying to brush past you. A push of your hand on his chest kept him in place.

"I owe you my life. Please, let me at least try to return the favor?" you pleaded. He couldn't help but feel entranced at your kind expression. Wide eyes glistening in the moonlight, plump lips beckoning him closer, soft hand pressed against the skin above his heart.

The hunter let a genuine smile tug at his lips. What harm could come from a meal? He hadn't eaten anything hot in several days. Just foraged roots and berries he'd managed to find as he tracked the chupacabras. He deserved a break, a reward for his service to the Church.

"Alright," he relented, voice barely louder than a murmur. A grin wisped across your face like a summer breeze.

"Perfect! Follow me, Mr.Van Helsing."

i want to kiss his silly face and tell him i love him

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