#that can switch into whatever shape it wants

[bobur-the-berry-guy]

Random horny thoughts abt my fav blue lock men!

ᯓ★୭˚

•written in the trenches of the end of my period the power of sleep deprivation stress and my clit, enjoy

•made the banner myself too hihi (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

••requests are open btw

ft. Isagi, Hiori, Nanase, Bachira, Rin, Karasu, Yukimiya

Cw : 18+ obvi, afab!reader, biting, hickeys, oral (f/m receiving), fingering, jerking off, lowk sadism, rough, hand restriction, edging, overstimulation, sub/dom/switch dynamics kinda???, size difference kink, degradation and praise, being fucked in someone else's clothes, they're all kinda freaky in some way shape or form, generally just a horny post

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆.˚✮•𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂•✮˚.⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

ᯓ★୭˚ To preface this, i must say i want Isagi BAD. Anyway, everyone and their mama knows he has a thing for thighs. Yours especially. It's just the way they jiggle a bit when you walk, the way they shift when you move your hips and how they practically melt when you sit. In his eyes they're the most delicious thing he can lay his eyes upon. And the perfect earmuffs. He can spend hours between them, licking up your juices and playing you with his tongue. He keep you mostly clean, but that doesn't stop him from eating messy. By the time he's done pretty much his whole lower half of the face is soaked and dripping, sometimes he gets a but of it on his fringe too somehow. He gets off on just getting you off - the visual of you shaking and your teary face paired with your cute moans is more than enough for him.

more under the cut!

He likes it best when you're on your back or sitting on his face - he lives for the moments you squish his head with your thighs, drowing out any other sound and lowkey choking him like that. He doesn't care if he can't breathe or if it feels like he's gonna have his jaw relocated - do it! Squeeze his face, tug on his hair, put him in a headlock, squirm and trash around. To him that's only a sign he's doing his job well. And don't get me started on what a sucker he is for eye contact. When you look down at him with these wet eyes and you're doing your damnest not to roll them back in your head he might just cum in his pants.

"No, no— not yet. Let me keep going. Please."

Next morning you wake up and your legs still feel funny and you've got hickeys and little bites all over the insides of your thighs, and he's clinging onto you like a koala. Isagi really liked his meal.

He doesn't expect you to return the favour, but he won't stop you if you want to. He gets all shy and red, and he whimpers!! He's all twitchy and he can't keep his voice down, and his doing his hardest to look you in the eyes but it's so hard - he's too embarrassed about just how easily you have him like that yet he's too captivated by the sight in front of him to look away. He will hold your hair out of your face if he thinks it could be making it harder for you even in the slightest. Though he has to psychically stop himself from gripping your hair too hard or squishing your face with his thighs. Lowkey, I'd like him to squish my face with his thighs. #needthat

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓ★୭˚ I know lately everyone's been talking about the Hiori ultra-sadist thing, and you're here to listen to me talk about it too. Now, just let me speak. He's so cute and he's so gentle and careful with you outside of.. activities, but the second he's gotten you in bed it's like a switch flips. I don't think the fact that he's 6 fucking ft tall really registers until you're under him and he's caging you between him and the mattress. You've got nowhere to go and the look on his face tells you that you'll be staying there for a while.

Whatever you let him do, he will. His deal isn't pushing your bounderies but trying to see how far he can push you. And let me tell you he is skilled with his hands. He's making you almost cum over and over again until you're basically sobbing and begging him to just do it. Other thing he does every time is holding your wrists. He won't tie them, no - he wants to hold them together himself, making sure you can't touch neither him nor yourself. Might pinch your nipples if you let him. When he finally decides to let you finish he's not giving you more than a minute to catch a breath before he's sliding his dick in you. And he's not gonna go soft now either. The hand that he was getting you off with will be gripping your hips with enough force that you'll see faint bruises the next day, and when he's close to cumming himself he's gonna move it back down to play with your clit. He switches biting and sucking on your neck and kissing you until both of you need to break the kiss so you can breathe. Won't stop you if you bite him back though. With the way he's fucking you, you'd think he's on a mission to break the bed again. Your neighbours hate you.

"Ya like it that much, huh? Don't even try to keep quiet, or I'm gonna keep going till ya beg me to stop."

HIS ACCENT UGH. He won't shut up. He keeps talking and cooing even when he's pretty sure you can't even process a word anymore. It's like his goal is to fuck you senseless. It is actually

After it's over he's taking real good care of you. He's wiping you clean, bringing food n water, running a bath - the works. Whatever you say you want it's yours. What kind of a man is he if he pounds your brain out and doesn't treat you like a princess after? Though, he may press on the bruises and bites a bit to see you squirm before he gently kisses you again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓ★୭˚ Nanase is a simple man that knows what he wants - someone who can lead him. That counts in the bedroom too. Tell him what you want and you have it - he lives to make you happy. If it's your first time or you don't have an exact idea of what you want he's going gentle and sensual on you - he takes his time with everything. He's undressing you slowly, peeling each layer, kissing and caressing you all over. He holds your hand while he fingers you with the other, murmuring softly into your ear. And even when he finally slips his dick in you he still holds your hand, groaning and moaning into your mouth as he kisses you. All in all, he treats you like delicate china porcelain.

If you want him to rock your world he's more than ready. He's holding you by the hips and he's pouding into you like he hasn't touched you in a decade, leaving little crescent nail marks and biting your shoulder. He's going fast and hard, but if you want him too keep going for too long he's gonna get overstimulated himself and he's gonna be all jittery. He's real sensetive. The only thing he won't do is hitting you or degrading you - he can't bring himself to do that. Now, if you want to rock his world, he's more than happy and willing to sit back and let you do whatever you want with him. Bite him, scratch him, have fun - he likes it when you take the lead. And I'm gonna remind you he gets overstimulated easily. You could be denying his orgasm once or twice in a row an he's gonna be almost in tears, but it hurts so good. All he's gonna do is squeeze the bedsheets, or preferably, your hand and give you more room to work with. Likes it best when you're riding him and hes sitting with his back leaned to the pillows and headboard - he can feel your body pressed into his while you're boucing on him into oblivion, holding his hand and scratching him with the other while he's holding yours and squeezing your hips, foreheads pressed into each other as you try to kiss but you're both too out of it for it to be anything more that sloppy and uncoherent try that will end with a string of salive between the two of you.

"Ah— keep going— mh- ngh— just like that!"

He keeps babbling on, his accent making him sound even cuter. AGAIN THE ACCENT UGH. He begs you for something, and he's not even sure what exactly he's begging and sobbing over. He's whimpering and twitching and whining, and he's having the time of his life.

By the time you guys are done you're practically melting onto the matress, huffing and puffing and you're coming down from your high. Aftercare comes after a small window for you both to come back to your senses. You'd really need it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓ★୭˚ Bachira is a fucking pervert, and he's proud of himself for that too. He can't keep his grabby hands to himself - he's constantly holding and pinching your waist, feeling up your tits and ass, playing with the waistband of your pants. He's shameless. And that's while you're out in public too. Sometimes you'd have to drag him back home to do him so he can stop acting like that.. for today and maybe tomorrow.

You know the saying "great minds think alike"? Because, just like Isagi, this man could die suffocated between your legs and he'd die the happiest man on earth. And he's not quiet about it either. He's slurping and gasping and talking trough your juices as if he isnt tongue deep in you, bumping his nose into your clit and pinching it every now and than. He treats how many times he can many you cum like a game - the more, the higher the score. He's keeping track too. At some point he'd have to hold your legs apart so he can keep going at it, before you basically become like jelly anyway. If he decided he doesn't wanna eat you out anymore and finally wants to actually fuck you instead, he's having you in any position he can think of. And he's trying each at least twice too, just to be sure if you both really like it or if you did it correctly the first time.

"Ah— yeah, you like that! No, no, i wanna keep going—! You look so cute like that-, ngh—!

As i said, this man is NOT keeping it quiet. He doesn't see the point in it - if you're making him feel good why wouldn't he show it? Keeps the same mentality about you too. If you even try to quiet yourself down he's gonna go harder just to make you question if it's really worth trying to keep the volume down.

Next morning you wake up and see him as snug as a bug, staring at you all soft and innocent as if he didn't rearrange your guts in at least three different ways a few hours ago.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓ★୭˚ For someone as intense as Rin, you'd think he'd be rough, but in reality he's probably the most sensual and caring lover you could have. He'd be really unsure in the beginning, but it's not like he would show it anyway. He's never really been that close with anyone, definitely not nearly close or trusting enough to be so open and vulnerable. So if you've got him in bed, expect the intensity to be to the max. He's not gonna be nasty, but he's not holding himself back either.

He'd like it best when he can see your face well. None of that stuff where he can't see how glossy your eyes are or how good he's making you feel. He's already drooling from just that. He's holding your hand too. If you're under him, you're basically caged between him and the matress. One arm thrown over his neck and your legs over his waist, his face switching between being all up in ypur neck and inhaling your scent to kissing you sloppily, too pussy-drunk to really even kiss you well. You're clawing at his back from how deep he's going, and he's trying not to bust right then and there from just how good you sound moaning and whimpering in his ear. If you're on top of him, he'd have to be still at least to some extend sitting up so he can feel your torso brushing against his as you're bouncing on him. He's all about that skin to skin contact, as he is for the eye contact. He'd have to try real hard not to let his eyes roll into the back of his skull so he can still look at how good you look like that. If he notices you getting tired, he's taking the job in his own hand and will have you hold onto him and grab your hips to bounce you on his dick himself.

"Nhg— ah— yeah, just like that, keep your eyes on me— mmh!"

I don't think he'd really be loud, but he's noisy, you know? He can't keep himself silent. He's constantly letting out little sighs and groaning, along with the jolting and and the occasional trembling. And if you're treating him real good, he'd whimper too. I mean, imagine you're pretty much laying on top of him, kissing all over his face and neck, whispering softly as you're jerking him off with one hand and he's just.. whimpering. Whimperig and jolting. Join my whimpery Rin agenda.

And when you're finally done with it there's nothing on the planet that would make Rin move in the next few minutes. He's just holding you, trying to catch his breath. After that he'd have you both shower quickly, maybe grab some water and snack and back to bed you go. He's gonna be real cuddly after. He won't say much, but he'll hold you close and caress you lovingly every now and then until he falls asleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓ★୭˚ International backbender Karasu awakens something in me. Him and his bigass attitude n that bigass nose💕

He's gonna talk up a big game and that confidence is definitely rooted in something. I mean, this man is ginormous even if we're not talking about what's going on in his pants. Just seeing you looking up at him gets him going. Seeing how big he looks compared to you does something to him. All that is to say he's taking his sweet time with prepping you. You both know that if that doesn't happen and you guys just try to force his dick in with no prep, it would not be a good experience. That, and he just really likes teasing you. He'd start out with eating you out first, making sure you're nice and wet before slipping his fingers in. He's scissoring and circling against your cervix with his fingers while he switches between licking your clit and pressing his nose against it. To be honest, he doesn't even really need to use his fingers for all that long. When his hand gets tired he just eats you out until you cum against his mouth and nose.

Now, when he's finally sure he can fuck you without hurting you, he'll go slow at first. He's having you sandwiched between his body and the bed and he's slowly pumping in and out of you, making sure he's not going too fast too soon. And despite how gentle he wants to be, it's flaking off the more you moan and the more he looks at you going stupid over barely anything. And honestly, seeing how much he fills you you doesn't help him at all either. He's steadily pumping up the speed into a quick rhythm that makes your eyes roll, and along with that he keeps that same rhythm with his fingers on your clit. Only when he's just so close to cumming does the rhythm go unsteady and jerky.. but he's so cute like that it only makes it better.

"Tryin' to force it in yourself, huh? That's kinda hot. Don't ya think you'd need a little help first?"

He won't shut up. There isn't a power on this earth to make him shut up. He's gonna be talking and groaning and moaning the entire time, and honestly he wants you to be vocal too. He's got a thing for voices, so hearing you sass him back or try to babble something back through whimpers gets him going even more.

With all that energy he's got he could go a few rounds, but when it's all done he's so damn clingy. You're not going anywhere without him doting and leaning on you lovingly. After you're fresh and showered and back to bed he's acting like a koala. Head in your chest, arms around you, practically purring. And even then he's still talking. He's gonna talk, talk and talk.. talk into sleeping like a log. But just so you know, he snores a bit.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓ★୭˚ Your resident dreamboat Yukimiya is here. He's always so gentle and so sweet you can feel your teeth ache at just the sight of him. He's doting on you and always looking for a way to make you happy.. sigh, the things I'd do to that man. Anyway, regardless of just how charming he is, that doesn't mean he doesn't have his own crazy side. I mean, he is in the blue lock program after all. Have you seen anyone normal in there?

Said crazy side is his unmatched possessiveness. He won't act like some crazy jealous boyfriend but he's gonna make sure you and everyone else knows that you're with him, and he's gonna satisfy that possessive side too. He's proud to have you, so is it really so shameful to want everyone else to know that? Even with all that, he's gonna be sensual. He'll make sure you're all good and comfortable while he's balls deep in you, holding you close and breathing you in and whispering into the shell of your ear. Doesn't matter if you're under him or on top, you're chest to chest with him, clawing at his back and moaning into his ear while he's meticulously rearranging your guts. He makes sure to leave you breathless with kisses throughout the whole thing, only letting you get a few breaths in so he can leave a hickey or two somewhere.. he also has a thing for fucking you while you're wearing his clothes. If you're wearing his shirt he's tearing everything expect it right off and he's lifting it up just enough to see himself entering in and out of you. He he likes it a bit too much, but he can't help himself. He might cum a bit earlier than he'd like, but thankfully he has enough stamina for more than one round.

Also! If we're talking about the egoist bible and the canon fetishes, i wanna talk about my take on the ephemeral things. Honestly, my mind goes to a specific time of day, or specific ambience. I can see him liking to fuck you in certain light - he likes how play of light and shadow look on you. He likes it when the sun sets and the golden hour shines on you just right while he's bringing you to tears with just his fingers. He likes it when the dusk makes your bluish afterglow look even softer while you're recharging for the next round. He likes it when it's the dead of night and only the moon let's him see your gorgeous face changing expressions because of him, he likes the calm gentleness of it. He likes it right before the sun enters the horizon and it's just cool enough to keep you even closer so you can be warm while taking another orgasm out of you. I also think he's particular about the sound atmosphere - it's either a calm quiet, a playlist he's made or the sounds of the sea.

"You like that, love? Yeah, feels good— mmmh—!"

Oh he's not keeping his mouth shut. He's got a good voice and he knows it. He's murmuring right in your ear, either talking you trough it and what to do now or whimpering about how good you make him feel and how gorgeous you look fucked out like that. If he's not talking he's moaning and whimpering softly, but he's still loud enough to make you soaked with just noises.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆.˚✮•𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂•✮˚.⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

When you're all done and finished he's holding you like you're the dearest thing to walk on this earth. He's talking in your ear all soft and gooey about how gorgeous you are and good you made him feel, and after a while of holding and sweetness he's bringing you to the bathroom to freshen up before returning to the bedroom again.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ★｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+° as always, requests are open!

•made yukimiyas part just a but longer bc it was his bday recently so have a treat :P

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium Drabble - Kill or be Killed

What is this? I am working on one of my own AUs?

It isn't tha unheard of hihi.

Back to my favourite Medium and his harem of ghosts and One Fallen Angel :D

I am sure Dust won't get into too many problems.

*--------------*

His breathing is fast. Terrified that she will find him. This was all a mistake. This wasn't suposed to happen!

It was just... She had been their leader! But she had been more interested in gold than in surviving their god! She had wanted to focus on gaining more treasures over finding ways to summon the God of Destruction to them! To help them recreate the world!

Her husband... Their second in comment had offered the idea. To kill her. To refocus all their attention on their main goal to create a new world!

No on expected her to come back.

"There you are..." He feels fear grip his being as he looks up.

She is hauntingly beautiful. She is translucent and grey of colour. She stares coldly at him. Then she gains a smile "Did you think you could run?" she leans closer.

It is so cold. She had grown so much more powerful in just the short two weeks.

She continues to smile down at him from where she floats. Her deathblow, the knife stab right in the heart, still visible as she wears the cloak she wore when alive.

Her smile disappears and her eyes grow cold again "Now. It is time for you to pay. Just like him." She slowly reaches out a hand.

He knows what it does. He saw it happen to their new leader. she grabbed him and drained him of all lifeforce. Leaving on a husk which she made other eat before killing them too. Her cold rage... It used to be consuming. Now? It is calmer. As if it is the only way forwards. Like she doens't truly care.

The hand reaches closer.

He panics "We didn't want to! He... Your late-husband! He fooled us!" he is desperate.

The hand pauses for a moment.

He continues "Someone came by! told him lies! that you no longer wanted to complete our goal!" he is desperate. He wants to escape.

Her face grows harder "Who?"

"I... I..." he feels compelled to tell her. Answer her. Do whatever she wants "It was one of those exorcists!" He finds the lie to tell.

She stares at him.

His mouth feels dry "I... I could try and trick them! To get them to come back! than you can take revenge!"

She looks considered.

He needs to layer up more reasons to let them live "Once that pest is gone!! We can work on our purpose again! Summon the God of Destruction! To create the world in our, no! Your image!"

She hums as she lowers her hand "It would be... nice... the world shaped in my image. To my wishes... To gain all what i deserve... But ruling alone on the top..." her face grows harder.

He rushes to answer her "Your old husband was unable to truly see your genius! Your power! Anyone would be lucky to be by your side!" an idea "Maybe even our god? Once he is summoned he will no doubt see your radience!"

She pauses before smiling brightly "Yes. We will do that... Call everyone together. We have work to do."

Awesome! Now he just needs to find some sucker to take the fall for them and everything is back on track!

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

Dust looks through the forums looking for any intell on the cult for Nightmare's artifact. With the money from the mansion job he doesn't need to worry about rent or groceries for a while.

Nightmare leans entirely too close as he looks over his shoulder "More work?"

Dust huffs as he breaths out some smoke from the sigarette before answering Nightmare's question "No. This is info on that cult."

Nightmare raises a brow "The one you suspect having the artifact i want?"

Dust shrugs "I hope so." he types more when he goes towards the site of the cult. Scrolling through the pages to see if he sees anything that will give him a hint.

He notices a help wanted message on it.

Dust raises a brow as he reads the message...

It is a request for an exorcist to get rit of a powerful spirit.

Dust snorts as he leans on his hand. He switches back to the forum and posts a message. Others quickly react about the cultist being idiots and no one being dumb enough to fall for the obvious trap.

Dust however... is interested.

He had been looking for a way to get into the cult base to search... Maybe he can...

Ash studies the screen himself "The cult really thinks you guys are stupid? Who would willingly go near the cult when the cult has been the reason many of you are out of work or worse even dead?"

Nightmare hums "How so?"

Dust answers as he studies the text the cult posted "The cult is trying to do soemthing. We aren't quite sure but it involves taking the jobs we normally do. To get to the spirits and stuff before we can. It means we are strugglign and take difficult and dangerous jobs. All to just get by. The problem is, it means many of us will try the jobs that are harder and more dangerous as those are all that are left... Even if we know we aren't quite equipt to handle those. Meaning many of us died in those jobs."

Nightmare frowns as he stares at the screen "Which is why you are warning your fellow exorcists?"

Dust nods "Exactly. worse is that they will post fake jobs and... well... many mediums have disappeared." It doesn't take a genius to see what is happening... Dust just doens't understand why.

Nightmare frowns "That is rather... unwelcome." he waves a hand out.

Dust nods as he sends a message to gain more information on the job.

Nightmare looks intriged "Why send them a message?"

Dust waits fro a reply as he smokes his sig "I need a way into their base. May as well try this way." Worst case he just makes abreak for it.

He gets a message back with more details. It is a storage unit downtown of the capital. It is most likely a streng Spectre. Mmh. He isn't a fan of that as those are dangerous but he should be fine.

Dust gets up as he stretches. Cross looks up from where he is doing his own workouts in his body "We going?"

Dust nods as he walks around him to get to his couch and searches it for his bag and anything else to take "We are." Cross nods as he gets up and quickly goes to the bathroom to wash up, they have to shimmy past each other with the small amount of space.

Ngihtmare sits on the table with his legs crossed as he leans back "You really need a bigger place."

Dust raises a brow as he continues to pack "With what money? This place is great as I don't even need to pay rent each month. Just enough to keep the landlord happy." the spidermonster who owns the building is so chill. Just never hurt a spider and pay rent once in a while and the other is happy "The only reason I got time to look for your thing is because i don't need to work 24/7 to pay for rent." even if his place is cheap he doesn't get paid a lot. His work just doesn't pay much and his income is irregular.

Dust tries to convince them to remain back and here as he went to work but they refuse to stay back. They get into the van and set off.

-----------

Dust gets to the warehouse and frowns at it. It feels... strange? It doesn't feel like the area of a normal spectre... He never felt anything like this before. It is... heavy? There is a ringing in his ears.

Ash looks uncomfortable himself "It feels like we are being hunted... Dust maybe this isn't a good idea. We should go."

Nightmare looks curiously at the building himself "There... is a lot of fear around the building. but the building itself is mostly empty... there is one large source however... an echo." he looks amused "Your spirit is in there alright."

Ash shoots him the stink eye as he crosses his arms and mutters about him having been able to do that.

Dust frowns as he gets out of the van. Only for all the spirits and Cross and Nightmare to follow him out. Dust studies the building wiht a frown.

If it isn't a spectre... will the things he prepared and brought along even work? Woudl it even be useful? A wraith needs different items and stuff. That is why it is important to know which spirit you are dealing with!

Dust looks at Ash "It doesn't feel like a spectre." Ash looks worried himself.

"I know... but i don't... I don't know what it does feel like..." Ash looks deeply bothered.

Dust returns to his van and searches his things. He isn't sure what he will need. He will just prepare for both a Poltergeist, Spectre and Wraith. Just to make sure he is covered. phantoms and shades are weak and he doens't need specific for those to deal with them.

This is not a weak spirit... it sets his instincts on edge.

Killer frowns from where he is floating near him "Lets just go home! These people don't deserve help anyway!" he grins and bats his eyelashes.. or well he would if he had those.

Dust shoots him a blank look "Chances to get into the cult are hard to find."

Killer pouts and shoots aglare at Nightmare "Well!! Maybe a certain someone can actually just tell us where it is!"

Nightmare looks amused "Oh it is alright. We can just not go near the spirit as we search."

Dust nods as he starts walking towards the building. Horror looks at him worried "Are you sure this is okay?"

Dust frowns as he shakes his head "I am not..." Horror looks worried "But it will have to be."

Horror continues to look worried at him "Just run if things get hard... none of us want to see you hurt..."

It is gentle and Dust can't help but smile a little "Thanks..." He continues walking. Cross by his side looking anxious as Nightmare just looks around curiously.

They find a man in a dark cloak. Black in colour with red, blue and yellow lines and patterns. There is probably somekind of system or meaning behind it but Dust would need more time to study it to figure soemthing out.

THe man, wearing a hood and Dust can't se his face. dust is annoyed for a moment before remembering he does the exact same with his own hood... so that is how it feels for others.

They stare at one another. The man coughs "Euh... you are the person who send us a message?"

Dust nods "Yes." he didn't send them his name. Best not to give the cult his name or direct email adress. Just because he is willingly walking into a trap now doesn't mean he wants it to happen more often.

The cloaked person nods "Okay... well... the spirit is in the building. She is smart and fast... near the very center."

Dust frowns. That is oddly specific. Why isn't the spirit trying to leave. mmh. "anchor?"

the person just stares at him "What?"

Dust makes it a bit clearer "What and where is the anchor?"

The person stares "Oh... euh... I don't think she has one?"

That implies it is a spirit whoes anchor are her own emotions. So maybe it is a Wraith or a Spectre after all?

Dust nods as he glances at the building "Specific target?"

The person shakes their head "Not since she killed her husband."

Oh that is some divorce bullshit. Who knew that also happened in the cult.

Dust nods as he goes towards the building "I will take a look." Cross nad Ngihtamre follow him.

The person yells out "Wait!"

Their group pauses and stares back. The person looks nervous "I... euh... i believe... it is best to only go in alone?"

Cross immediantly glares as he stands closer to him. looking guarded. Nightmare looks amsued as he crosses his arms.

The person stutters "It is just! Safer! You are less likely to be noticed!"

Dust tilts his skull "Will be noticed anyway." he turns abck to the building and walks inside, Nightmare nad Cross nearby.

They don't go towards the center. they immediantlly start looking for the storage rooms. They need to find the artifact. Then Nightmare will be repaid!

They search but can't find any trace. Curious. There are still things all around the buidlign but nothing really worthwhile. Strange.

Killer huffs "For a cult they only got junk. Hey H! Was that the same in yours?"

Horror is frowning himself "... They moved the valuables." he looks abck at Dust "They had time."

Dust nods as he rubs his arms to try and warm himself up. Fuck it is cold in this place.

Killer frowns as he floats abit further away to study some stuff.

A cold shiver going up his spine is the only warning he gets before a hand grabs his leg and pulls him through the floor. He hears the others yell his name but he is seperated from them in seconds.

He hits the floor hard and groans as his everything feels wrong after being intangible for a moment.

"Well if it isn't the little rat. You thought you could use other mortals to hide yourself from me?"

The voice is even colder than the freezing room. He groans as he looks over and freezes.

Shit...

The spirit, the BANSHEE stares down at him. unfeeling and uncaring. Unamused "You thoguth that by tricking them into killing me you could be safe? That we would not exterminate your filthy kind and call our god to join us!"

Dust feels his throat close more and more "Euh... I am not sure what you mean? I didn't trick..."

The spirit glares "you dare lie to me!! They told me already! that you came by and lied to my husband! Made him doubt be and my rule!! You will now pay for this!" and she screams.

Dust uses his magic to activate his shielding charm. he still gets thrown through the wall. Landing still hurts as as his shield shatters. The charm gains a crack.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Dust doesn't wait as he pushes himself upright and start running. He eneds to get out. Needs to leave this building-

He needs to find the others!! They need to get out! They aren't strong enough and the banshee can steal their life force!

The hand on his leg had pulled on his own magic. Dust is just fucking lucky he is used to spirits trying to steal his lifeforce and has build up a natural resistance to it.

Another loud scream and Dust groans as his skull hurts. Another wall gets shattered not far behind him.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN?! I WILL FIND YOU AND END YOU!"

People saying that banshees don't feel affected by mortals are fucking liars!! She sounds very affected!

He turns another corner and he wants to cry in relieve. Stairs! Going up! He rushes upstairs quickly. He gets one floor up when she appears on the stairs going further up. Dust dashes through the door unto the other floor. She screams again and the whole floor shifts slightly as new cracks appear. He needs to dive into another pathway that he hadn't wanted to use originally.

More screaming as the cold air follows him. He finds another dead end. He has to break or run into a wall as he stands there panting. He turns around and sees her grownign near.

Oh this is going to suck.

He takes a deep breath as he activates his half broken charm. It just needs to survive one hit. She gets ready to scream and Dust starts running again. This time straight at her and jumps through her.

He for a moment feels her pain, both the old physical one and the mental one. It hurts but he is out and through in just a moment. the charm snaps as it just barely managed to protect him form the freezing energy. It is still very cold as he forces his hurting limbs to move.

He gets back to the staircase and rushes upstairs. It hurts to move his bdoy and by the end he manages to get upstairs but everything hurts. He almost trips over his own feet but hands catch him.

Cross looks worried at him "Dust! Are you okay? Shit you are freezign?!" he lifts him up and puts his own large white jacket around his shoudlers.

Dust shivers "Ban... Ban...Banshee... Needs... We need to..." he shivers... it is so cold.

Ngihtmare frowns as he glances down "A banshee is very dangerous... We need to leave..."

The other spirits look confused while Ash looks horrified and terrified "Oh no..."

A loud giggle "Hiding again?" she floats slowly up through the floor and the cold gets so much worse. even Cross starts to shiver and he isn't even sensitive to ghost auras.

She opens her mouth but Killer growls "You bitch!! Get the fuck away from my Dusty!!" he glares. his eyes black and the goop starts to drip faster and faster.

The banshee stares and laughs "Such hubris. You think you lowly spirit are able to withstand me? Bow." she glares at Killer.

Killer just floats right before him. Unmoving and glaring.

Dust shudders "le-leave..."

Ash nods "We need to go. Banshees are known to steal life force to grow stronger. Specifically spirit lifeforce!"

She looks amused as she nears them.

Then Killer is on her. His sockets are black and the goop drip is worse than even before it covers his full lower face and keeps flowing. The banshee screams but Killer ust holds on tighter to her. Not moved from his position as he keeps clawing at her.

She tries to use her magic. To either freeze him? To stela his life force?

She grabs the red target.

But... her magic doens't take affect.

A new emotions on her face.

Fear.

She stammers "You... you are..."

Killer laughs manically as he holds up a hand. a knife materialises in his hand. He grins widely as he shows off the glowing red blade "Now... Stay. Still." and he stabs downwards.

She screams but then she goes still. She starts to shake and shimmer and...

Killer's mouth just rips open as he bites down. The banshee grows weaker and weaker and before he knows it... she is gone. Nothing left of her.

Killer's red target flashes grey and blue for a moment before it regains the red colour. the red looks brighter and stronger than before.

Killer stares at where she was. He sockets still blank and no emotion on his face.

Then he turns and stares at them for a moment. There is nothing there.

Killer then stares at him and gasps "Dusty!!" and he rushes over. Killer obviously want sto hold him but can't as he pouts at Cross "Cross!! Let me hold him!"

Cross stammers as he searches for his voice "I... i euh... I still got dips?"

Killer pouts but nods "Fine... but you better carry him out!" he hovers nearby as he mentions how Dust needs to be careful! and no more cult stuff! it is too dangerous!!

Dust is in shcok.

killer jsut fought a banshee. It wasn't even a fight. Killer was uncontested...

How many fihgts had he won before Dust even met him?

How strong is Killer?

And why... why is his soul pulsing faster? Why did he feel warm when he saw Killer fight?

Nightmare himself is even shooting him a curious look as he looks between him and Killer.

Cross nods as he puts an arm around his shoulder and one by his legs and he is suddenly carried?!

It is as if he weights nothing?!

He feels embarrassed but also... something else?! it kinda feels like embarrassed but slightly different...

What is wrong with him?

[kismetmoon]

whenever i listen to my embarrassingly gigantic playlist filled with just completely random songs that i like and have been thrown in there, it likes to play ‘Taurnado’ from Centaur World every time without missing a beat

and every time i hear it i immediately think about how the Nightmare Realm might just be built on top of Bill’s home dimension with all of the burnt second dimensional corpses

and what if they could manifest themselves (via ‘left-over’ Nightmare Realm madness magic whatever) into a giant ghost or spirit type creature (akin to the Taurnado) - all working together as one giant organism - to just fuck with Bill for killing them. roaming around the waste of a dimension or appearing during storms (if they even have those there) or just randomly to scare the shit outta ppl

[Plain text ID: two digital drawings of an original Gravity Falls / Flatland crossover character named The Mosaic.

In the first photo, The Mosaic is depicted in it’s ‘line form’. It is a humanoid creature made up from various, small, monochrome shapes and lines and has a large glowing red eye for a head with a point on top and no pupil. It is holding out two of it’s hands to each side, while it's legs hang down loosely as though suspended in the air. A small depiction of Bill Cipher, a yellow triangle with a black top hat, and Kryptos, a teal rhombus, can be seen above The Mosaic’s right hand. The background is a very dark grey with a white circle that contains a light grey hexagon, a dark grey upside down triangle and an even darker grey line behind The Mosaic.

In the second photo, The Mosaic is depicted in one of it’s various ‘shape forms’ - as an isosceles triangle creature with limbs and a large centre yellow glowing eye made from smaller and monochrome shapes and lines. They are holding one arm slightly raised and a tiny depiction of Bill Cipher can be seen between their loosely pinched claws. The background is dark grey with lighter grey swirling patterns.

End ID.]

[strawb3rryhachi]

inspired by this

“c’mon Sy, you can give me one more can’t you?” You tease, unable to hide the sadistic little smile edging it’s way past the corners of your lips, staring in awe at the way his red, angry tip spit out precum as you stroked him.

It had been hours. Hours of you milking him for all he was worth, wanting to see how many times you could bring him over the overstimulated edge before he was shooting blanks. He was nothing but pants and plea’s. His cum drunk mind going between begging for more and begging you to stop your devilish movements.

“C-can’t kitten, d-don’t think I have any left.” He stuttered, carmine eyes practically heart shaped as he looked at you.

Sylus, ever the eloquent man, had been reduced to nothing more than a sex drunk fiend, watching as you use the remnants of cum from the last however many orgasms to stroke him, the white, sticky honey squelching between your fingers as he begged and moaned.

“Just one more Sy,” You whispered against the shell of his ear, a whimper escaping him as the sensation sent goosebumps cascading over his whole body, “Please. For me?”

And it was horribly unfair, wholly inhumane to ask him for anything when you looked so pretty and perfect, Sylus swore he’d died and gone to heaven with his last orgasm, he was sure you were an angel, he could practically see the golden little halo around your head. How could he say no?

“One more, anything for you, sweetie.” He babbled, finding a second wind as your lips trailed down the side of his neck in sloppy, wet kisses, bucking his hips to meet your strokes half way, ever the good listener.

He was hot to the touch, so fucked out that he could feel that warm coiling in his stomach pulling taut every time you squeezed your warm, cum covered palm around him.

“Baby.” He whined in your ear, your hand focusing on his over sensitive tip. His head lolled back, silver hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he expressed soft little mewls from the confines of his throat.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of superiority as you realized you were the only person who could and would ever see Sylus this way. The only person who could bring the big, bad leader of Onychinus to his fucking knees, begging you to do whatever you wanted to him.

A sick sense of pride twisted inside you as you dipped down again, licking a stripe down the shell of his ear, nibbling on the lobe before getting as close as you could.

“Now cum.” Just those two seductive little words falling from your lips had him seeing stars, tears of overstimulated pleasure making their way down his perfect face all while holding eye contact (when he could keep them open). The look of surprise on his face when only two small rivulets shoot their way out of his pretty pink tip and oozes down your knuckles, his body wracking and bucking with all he had left.

You smile, kissing his cheek, “So five back to back is your limit, huh?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

sorry i just think Sylus would be a switch but mostly your submissive bf who lets you do anything and everything you want to him <3

[mrchoppedslefthand]

Homicipher Random Headcanons/Scenarios [NSFW]

Edit:11/07/2024

I desperately needed to post the random head canons and scenarios of our husbands that my brain kept cooking up (+ some from discord friends), so the list is not organized. Also, since we shape shift, I'm going to assume we can choose whenever we have a cock or pussy (because I want to be fucked and do the fucking) Anyways...enjoy the food thought.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped Mr. Silvair, Mr. Hood, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Warnings: mentions of NSFW, mentions of some canon-typical violence, implications of dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, implied cuckold

Mr. Crawling

He can be submissive top. Constantly asking you if you love him during intimacy. He would ask if you enjoy playing with him as you pound yourself onto him. He would be a moaning mess and probably wouldn't know what to do about it as he clumsily places his hands around your waist.

He would definitely eat you out without you asking once intimacy had been initiated.

Afraid of hurting you, he wouldn't be too rough, instead he would be more tender and gentler when it comes to intimacy.

He definitely would love it when you play with his hair, allowing you to braid it or do whatever as long it doesn't involve cutting his precious hair.

He actually gets jealous easily, but he doesn't verbalize it, instead he shows it through his actions.

He is better with his hands, than his cock. So sometimes you prefer that over his cock. His cock is more on the average/smaller side and it's cute.

He definitely has a praise kink.

Mr. Chopped

He lacks a body, so to make up for it he is extremely expressive and open with his feelings. Which makes him a little fun to bully, to see all those cute expressions he could make.

He probably would be very good with his mouth and tongue, let him be your personal rose toy/fleshlight if you will. He can't fight back and have no choice but to whimper about it.

Imagine getting sick and fainting with him nearby, he can't move or do anything but helplessly cry for you to wake up and starts crying out help for Mr. Silvair to come help him and you.

Maybe one day, for a day of tricks and pranks. Mr. Stitch will allow Mr. Chopped a day in his body, so they swap places, stitching Mr. Chopped in place of Mr. Stitch's head. It had been a very long time since Mr. Chopped felt sensations beyond his head, so he happens to be very sensitive and clumsy with his hands. Everywhere you touch overwhelms him, he melts and becomes a moaning mess, but Mr. Chopped isn't the only one feeling all these sensations. Mr. Stitch can still feel it too. He is intrigued by today's type of play.

He definitely would be more on the whiny and needy side when it comes to pleasure, he lacks a body, but he can still feel lust. He can't do anything about it, which makes him extremely needy and extra pouty.

Mr. Silvair

Definitely would have had intimacy with other ghosts/humans before to research the body and performance during mid transformation if it differed.

Imagine one day he finds a mysterious liquid that fell from the 'other world' and feeds it to you, himself and the other ghosts in your crew. Only to find out it was an aphrodisiac. It was the first time he felt such a strong sensation of lust. At first, he mistakes this strong desire to be violence, so he starts to self-inflict wounds onto himself. You attempt to stop him, but soon find yourself to be underneath him as he bites into your neck, drawing blood. Surprised at seeing the often-composed man, turning into a ravage beast. You somehow manage to find something to tie him up and have your way with him.

He probably likes overstimulation on you...but also himself. He would love to research on how much his body can go and handle.

He would actually be a switch, for research purposes. To take and give he'd do anything for research. It had been long long ago since his body used to be human, and he often forgets about his own experiences if he doesn't write them down, but no worries, he has you by his side now to keep remembering.

Mr. Hood

He is quiet but speaks whenever he finds it suited for. But if you need him, he would be happy to talk with you.

He is a bit insecure about his body, he doesn't have arms or hands or even legs, he is an entity of nothing. The clothes are what shape his form, and well maybe he not entirely a entity of nothing. You had a glimpse before, a small glimpse and sensation of a squishy and somewhat slimy part that had belonged to him. You never mentioned though, but if it was you'd love him still anyways.

He realized that some words had been a bit harder for you to keep in mind and remember and so he thought of a special way to get you learning. Learning with what humans call pleasure. He fucks you and asks you what certain things are, and if you get it wrong, he denies you from coming. You have become determined to learn your words properly even more so now. Because if you remember you get rewarded with the most absolute fulfilling fuck of your life.

Since most of his body is invisible or nothing. If you mouth fucked him you would be able to see that real good, it is strangely erotic watching your cock move inside his mouth.

Mr. Gap

When you're sleeping, sometimes he might just cuddle against your leg or lower half. He loves the feeling of warmth, compared to his hollow darkness.

He definitely seems like the type of person to eat you out while you're asleep. Playing around and waiting for you to wake up to watch your reaction. Of course, he would only do this though if he knew you'd allow it. He values consent.

Imagine taking your backpack to school and you have to take out a pencil for a test. When you open your backpack, you realize it is just an empty void and hear a voice asking for your heart in exchange for the pencil. Yeah... you accepted your fate. You just failed your exam...

When you become a moaning mess under him, he can't understand but he knows that from your sweet voice, and moans, that it's a good thing. He knows to keep continuing.

One day Mr. Gap gathers his usual newspapers that fall from the rubble or somehow manages to grab one from the human realm. He notices a magazine that discusses about marriage and giving rings on the fourth finger. Intrigued about this idea, he asks you for your all four of your fingers, but you misunderstand and refuse to give him your fingers. He's sad but soon you later find out that he was asking for your hand in marriage, literally but also figuratively.

Mr. Machete

We would wonder aimlessly for an eternity together searching for his/your home. But eventually our subconscious would recognize each other as home instead.

He would definitely mock and laugh at how fast you would falter/melt under his touch. Calling you "weak" for coming so fast but would give kisses here and there after the mocking.

He'd probably be into throat fucking and laugh at you looking pathetic, he loves reactions that aren't boring, so seeing you choke on his cock seems like a great idea.

He definitely would come inside most of the time.

When he fucks you, his cock would probably bulge out a little from your stomach, fascinated by it he'd roughly press his hand down near that area.

He is our beefy dumb macho, perfect.

If you mouth/fucked him he would tell you he feels nothing, but his eyes would already be red and tearing. He's a pathetic coward.

Mr. Scarletella

He belongs to you, and you belong to him, together forever, in a hellish world. He loves the destruction you bring into his life and does the same for you.

Oh boy, he would absolutely devour you, his queen, in pleasure. Fuck you stupid to the point you're just a blabbering mess, hands on waist, and long fingers in your mouth, as he pounds deeply into you.

He seems like the type of guy to fuck you during your period.

Definitely gets jealous easily and he makes it know when he gets that way.

Imagine your fucked/fucking another ghost and you hear static within the distance, the sound slowly starts to come closer and closer until you hear the static in the room. Your crimson servant arrives and witnesses your fantastic display of intimacy. Jealous, he kills them and becomes extra possessive and quite terrifying, but you love it so much. How he seems so lost and pathetic without you.

You don't know his name, but neither does he know yours. Despite this disconnect, you still manage to give him some sort of other named to be called. It's connected to your name, but he knows it's not all of it, he can't fully whisk you away, but he's okay with that. You are still bound to him for an eternity anyway.

If Mr. Scarletella went back to the human world with you instead, he would appear to be the one most suited for fitting in. Just slack some foundation on his face, make him wear gloves and he would blend in quite well. Well...except for his odd habit of asking every stranger for their name and laughing and giggling crazily each time.

He would have a praise and degradation kink, he's not a whore. He's YOUR whore. He likes being YOURS.

[skyeisabarnes]

Soldat

She and The Winter Soldier are each other's only solace on the H.Y.D.R.A base.

The Winter Soldier X Reader

Bucky Barnes X Reader

"I need to know, kid-"

The snarl that left her lips was animalistic. "Don't call me that," she said, her voice low enough to be a growl.

A sigh left Steve's lips as he stared at her. But his blue eyes weren't intimidating, not in the slightest.

Not compared with what she was used to.

He held up a picture. "Do you know this man?"

It wasn't a clear picture, not in the slightest. Nearly impossible to make out who the picture was of. But she knew. Of course she knew who he was. He was the most terrifying man she had ever met.

"Have you got a date with death, Captain America?" She mused, tugging at her binds. "Because that's all you'll get by seeking him out."

A single flame appeared on her fingertips. She held it against the rope around her wrist.

Steve let his head fall, shoulders slumping forward slightly. "Why are you doing this, kid? Why do you want to work for H.Y.D.R.A?

She clenched her jaw. "I told you, Captain, don't call me kid." She smirked at him as her flame singed at the rope. "I've fucked men older than you."

Pink dusted his cheeks as he turned away from her.

"And," she continued, "for the record, I don't want to work for H.Y.D.R.A. Just like your friend, I don't have a choice."

Her words weren't supposed to be comforting, but warm blossomed in Steve's chest. Of course Bucky wasn't doing this out of choice. Somehow, he was being forced.

The rope fell away from her wrists, but she stayed still.

"He will come for me."

"The Winter Soldier," Steve said and she nodded, confirming it.

But then Steve crouched in front of her, his arms resting on his legs. "Good."

Her fist connected with his face. Not yet surrounded by fire, that would come if he didn't let her go. "Trust me, Captain, I'm saving you!" She yelled as he stumbled away from her, giving her room to stand up. "The Soldier won't hold back when it comes to me."

It wasn't supposed to be a brag, but it was. When you have Earth's most dangerous assassin at your beck and call, it's kind of hard not to brag.

Each step left marks in the floor, soot in the shape of her boot. "If it wasn't for him, I'd thank you for getting me out, Captain." She said it with such sincerity, Steve could only stare. "But I can't leave him there."

Her fists were on fire as she walked away from him. Captain America should have been putting up more of a fight, but he let her go, watched her walk away from him.

At the sounds of screams from outside of whatever building she was in, she broke into a run. Through the empty halls of the building and through the doors, out into the light of midday.

Whatever plan Captain America had, it was a bad one.

He stalked towards her, killing everything in his path. The mask and goggles covered his face, but she knew it was him. She would always know it was him.

"Soldat."

His movements were slow, purposeful as he moved towards her. He said nothing as he became hurried, almost desperate.

This wasn't the first time she had been his mission. She had never been afraid of him, of the danger he possessed.

He held his gun in his metal hand,his other arm stretched out towards her. He spoke in Russian as he took her hand and pulled her into his side.

"I'm okay," she said back to him, switching to Russian. "I'm safe, Soldat."

He was silent as he took her away, his hold on her tight. She wrapped her arms around him as he took her away on his bike. Her arms were tight around him, face pressed against his muscled back.

All the while, she had no idea she was being tracked.

***

He held her tight as H.Y.D.R.A tried to pull them apart. But The Winter Soldier wasn't going to let her go.

"Soldat," she whispered, thumb moving over his cheek. "I'm okay. You can let me go."

A grunt left his lips, but he made no move to release her. But then they started to say those fucking words. "Longing."

"No!" She cried. She searched his blue eyes, tried to work out who he was. The Soldier, or the man he used to be.

"Rusted."

"Soldat." His hand came to rest on top of hers, his other arm still holding her tight.

"Furnace."

He drew in a sharp breath, but he didn't let go of her. He wouldn't let go of her, until his mind wasn't his own.

When they finished those damned words, The Winter Soldier released her. He was still reluctant, moving slowly and unwillingly.

But, as soon as he let her go, they grabbed her, took her away from him. Unlike the Soldier, she wasn't brainwashed. She didn't need reconditioning.

She struggled as they took her away from The Soldier. But she would find her way back to him, she always did. The last time H.Y.D.R.A tried to keep them apart, The Winter Soldier slaughtered everybody in his way to get to her.

"Kidnapped by Captain America," said her handler, her researcher as he stalked towards her, notebook open. "I thought you were trained better than that."

She stared at him, resisting a scowl. "Father," she said and held her chin up. "I don't understand why I am here."

Her father released a chuckle. "We need to understand how, Darling. How did a highly skilled killer get kidnapped by Captain America."

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her boots. "He caught me by surprise," she mumbled and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"How?"

"James."

She stopped in her tracks upon hearing his name, her mission forgotten. She knew that name. James. Her Soldier.

"You know James."

Her hands shook at her sides, ready to swing. "No," she managed to spit. But her voice was strained, as if it hurt to say.

But really, she didn't know a James. She knew The Winter Soldier, not the man he was before. The man he was before wasn't hers to know.

"Sorry about this, kid."

"I'm not a-"

But something hit the back of her head, and she crumpled to the floor.

"I don't know," she answered, her voice shaking. "I wasn't concentrating."

He wrote something down.

"It won't happen again."

"It won't happen again, what?"

"It won't happen again, sir."

They dragged her away after that, dragged her back to her soldat. But they didn't have to drag her, she went willingly. All she wanted was to get back to him. Her steps were hurried, her guards holding her back.

As soon as she was in the cell, she was upon him. "Soldat," she whispered as she stood before where he sat on the bed.

His legs were already parted, but he gave her enough room to climb between them. His hands settled on the backs of her thighs as he stared up at her.

Again, she couldn't tell who she was looking at. The Winter Soldier, or James.

Her hands settled in his shoulders. "Soldat," she whispered again. "James."

"I know that name," he whispered.

"It's yours, according to the man that kidnapped me."

A sigh left his lips. His hands moved up, settling on her waist. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, blinking when she pushed his hair out of his face.

She shook her head. "No, but he wanted to get to you," she answered and kissed him. It was only quick, testing what James would let her do.

He kissed her back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What if I could get you out of here?" He whispered, his flesh hand moving up her back. "Would you want to come with me?"

This was all she had ever known. But she hated it. There had to be better for her out there, better with him. With James, with her Soldier. She would take him any way she could get him. As James. As the soldier. As Bucky.

She nodded her head as she climbed into his lap. "In a heartbeat," she whispered as she laid her head against his shoulder.

His hand closed around something around her back. He tugged it from her shirt and held it in his palm. "I think I've found us a way out, sweetheart."

She was so damn scared, but she had him by her side. Her James. Her Soldier.

[luna-azzurra]

Writing a Morally gray character

Think about their backstory, what shaped them into who they are? What do they believe in? And, most importantly, what pushes them to get out of bed every morning and keep going? These characters aren’t simple good or bad. They’re caught in the middle, in that murky, complicated space between black and white. That’s where they get interesting because they’re constantly wrestling with themselves, trying to figure out the right choice, or if the “right” choice even exists for them.

You need to show this internal battle. Imagine your character being torn between what they believe is morally right and what they actually want. This is where the real drama comes in, it’s like watching them juggle their principles with their desires in real-time. They’ll mess up, and they’ll make decisions that are sometimes questionable, but that’s what makes them human and relatable. One way to really highlight their complexity is by putting them in situations where there’s no clear answer. You know, those moments in life where everything’s kind of a mess, and you’re stuck trying to figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do? Your character should face situations like that. These gray areas create tension because readers won’t know which direction the character will go, and honestly, your character might not know either.

And don’t forget, growth is a huge part of writing a morally gray character. People aren’t static, they change based on what happens to them, and your character should too. Maybe they start off with a strong sense of morality but, over time, that starts to shift. Or maybe they start with shaky ethics and slowly become a better person as they learn from their mistakes. Growth can also go the other way, they could spiral downward, giving in to darker impulses. Either way, they need to evolve, just like people do in real life. That’s what keeps the story fresh and unpredictable. The last thing you want is a character that stays the same the whole way through.

Also, please, no stereotypes. A morally gray character doesn’t have to be a brooding anti-hero with a tragic past (unless that’s your vibe, but even then, switch it up). Give them quirks that make them unique. Maybe they have unexpected motivations, like they’re doing something shady for a cause they genuinely believe in, or they’ve got a weird sense of humor that throws people off. Whatever it is, make sure they feel like an individual, not just a copy-paste character we’ve all seen a million times.

Even when your character makes decisions that aren’t exactly clean-cut or heroic, the reader still needs to understand why. Show their vulnerabilities, why they doubt themselves, why they hesitate, and why they ultimately make the choices they do. It’s all about making them relatable, even when they’re walking that fine line between right and wrong. People might not always agree with them, but they should at least be able to see where they’re coming from.

And remember, every choice your character makes should have consequences. They don’t exist in a bubble. Their decisions should ripple out and affect not only them but the people around them. Maybe they make a selfish decision, and it ends up hurting someone they care about, or they try to do the right thing, and it blows up in their face. One last thing, just because your character lives in that gray area doesn’t mean they don’t have any sense of right or wrong. They might have their own personal code they follow, even if it doesn’t line up with society’s morals. Maybe they justify their actions in a way that makes sense to them, even if other people wouldn’t agree. It’s all about exploring that space where they’re not totally good, but not totally bad either. That’s where things get really interesting.

Think about where your character is going. Is their journey going to push them to become a better version of themselves? Will they fall back into old patterns and never really change? Or will they stay stuck in that moral gray zone, constantly torn between doing what’s right and doing what feels right for them?

[mercvry-glow]

Stubborn love

parings. jack abbot x reader

summary. you take your son to pitt-fest, expecting to have a day filled with love and quality time. little do you know the universe has other plans for you instead.

warnings. gun violence, mass shooting, pitt-fest, hospital setting, reader and her son get shot, reader and jack are parents of a twelve year old boy, implied age gap (jack late 40s, reader mid/late 30s), medical inaccuracies, established relationship, hurt/comfort, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I just keep outdoing myself guys, idk what to do with all this power I have. I'm trying a new thing out when it comes to scene switches so hopefully this isn't choppy and I hope you love this as much as I do! This was a request for the very special @pear-1206! as always I hope you enjoy and any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 7,200+

It was supposed to be a fun day for you and Owen—a little mother/son bonding time while Jack finally got some much-needed rest after a long string of night shifts. The plan was simple: spend the day at the festival, just you and your boy, then meet up with Jack later for a nice dinner.

You and Jack had talked it over, and now that Owen was twelve, you both agreed it was fine for him to go. Especially since you’d heard Robby and Jake would be there—it felt safe. Familiar.

“You brushed your teeth, right, baby?” you called from the kitchen, glancing toward the living room where Owen sat, controller in hand, eyes locked on the TV.

“Yeah, Mom!” he shouted back, not even turning around. He was clearly deep into whatever video game world he’d dropped into, and since he wasn’t in school today you allowed it. 

You shook your head with a small smile, humming along to whatever song the  Alexa was streaming. Duke, your rambunctious Boxer puppy—and one of Owen’s birthday gifts from last year—was currently attacking the already-worn kitchen rug like it had personally offended him. You nudged him with your foot as you rinsed a coffee mug.

“Leave it, bubba,” you muttered playfully. Duke gave a happy little bark and pounced again.

Just then, you heard the soft click of the front door, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots being kicked off and dropped in the entryway. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Jack.

“Hey,” came his gravelly voice, low and tired, but warm. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, running a hand through his messy, silver curls, still in his black scrubs. His badge clipped to his pants and his stethoscope hung loose around his neck.

“And the graveyard king returns,” you said, drying your hands on a towel. “How bad?”

He groaned, stepping into the kitchen and leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Three codes. One stabbing… Had a vet come in,’” He said softly. “Didn’t make it.”

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist as he melted into you for just a moment. “I’m sorry baby, how about you go shower? We’ll be out of your hair soon, and you can get some much needed sleep.”

Jack leaned down again, this time kissing the side of your neck before pulling back. “You sure you don’t want to join me? I’m pretty sure the kid is glued to the TV.”

“Nope,” you said, gently pushing him toward the stairs. “You need sleep, and Owen has been dying to leave early and he definetly doesn’t get that from me.”

“Speaking of,” Jack called over his shoulder as he walked away, “Owen! Brush your teeth!”

“I did!” came the indignant reply, followed by the telltale sound of the controller hitting the floor as Owen finally got up.

Jack glanced back at you with a tired smirk. “Just making sure.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the dishes, smiling to yourself as Jack stalked off to go see his son. 

It was shaping up to be a good day.

You had no idea how fast everything would change.

-- 

When you had officially gotten to Pitt-Fest a few hours later the air was warm, with a gentle spring breeze brushing your skin as you and Owen made your way from the parked car toward the heart of the festival. The streets were already buzzing with music, food truck smells, and early crowds. You smiled to yourself—this was going to be a good day. 

Owen was practically skipping beside you, eyes wide as he took everything in. “Mom, look! They’ve already got the funnel cake truck open! Please, please can we get one now?”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Owen, it’s barely even lunchtime. Don’t you want to save that for later?”

He gave you that crooked, charming grin—so much like Jack’s—and you sighed with a smile. “Alright. One. And we’re splitting it.”

Within minutes, you were both sharing a messy, powdered sugar-coated funnel cake, your fingers sticky as you wandered past booths and rides. It felt good to unplug, to just be with your son. The chaos of life, Jack’s odd shifts, and your own never-ending schedule faded into the background.

“Hey—Jake!” Owen suddenly shouted, tugging your hand as he spotted someone up ahead. “C’mon, Mom!”

You glanced up, surprised to see Jake—The son of one of Robby’s exs, and a boy you had watched grow up—waving from a grassy patch near the basketball shoot-out game. For a moment, your eyes scanned the area, expecting to see Michael with him, like he said he’d be. Instead, you were greeted with the sight of someone else entirely: a nice looking young woman in a cropped denim jacket and oversized sunglasses, sipping something pink out of a mason jar.

Jake ran up to Owen, already mid-hug and mid-laugh, the two boys catching up like no time had passed.

“Hey Mrs. A!” Jake said brightly, a little too loud over the music. “Didn’t know you guys were coming!”

You blinked, confused, a light smile on your face as you gave the young man a hug. “I thought Robby was bringing you?”

“Oh—no,” he said, waving a hand. “He’s working today, I guess. We didn’t want the passes to go to waste, so he just said I could bring someone.”

“Jeez, he didn’t mention that when we talked yesterday.” you put a hand on your hip, thinking of all the ways you could scold the older man—maybe have Jack do it for you, he was “scarier” anyway. 

Still, everyone looked happy. Owen clearly had his attention on the two older kids, laughing and as he tried to convince both Jake and Leah to come with him to the makeshift basketball court. 

So you stayed chill. 

“Well, I’m glad you guys are having fun,” you said, easing into a comfortable flow of watching Owen and chatting with Jake and Leah. “Well that’s too bad he couldn’t come, Owen was looking forward to seeing Mikey.”

“Totally, but you know how it is with him.” Jake said, glancing down at his phone before wandering off a few feet to take a picture of Owen and Leah playing.

You exhaled slowly, watching Owen light up when he made a shot, Jake clapping and ruffling his hair as his girlfriend cheered. 

It wasn’t quite what you’d planned—but as long as Owen was smiling, you could roll with it. “Do you guys need any more money?” 

Jake wandered over again, glancing up from his phone as he slipped it into his pocket. “Nah, we’re good. I’ve got some cash and Leah’s got that apple pay.” He grinned, nudging her playfully. “She’ll sell her soul for a blue slushie.”

Leah rolled her eyes but smiled. “Facts, but we’re all good for now, promise Mrs. A.”

You nodded, still watching Owen line up another shot with intense focus, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth like he always did when he was concentrating. You’d seen that same expression on Jack’s face a hundred times.

“He’s getting good,” Jake said with a little pride in his voice. “Kid’s got an arm.”

“He’s been practicing,” you said with a smile. “Jack set up one of those hoops in the driveway. He won’t admit it, but they have this little competition going.” 

You laughed softly, relaxing just a little as the chatter and music of the festival surrounded you. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy floated on the breeze. For a moment, it felt simple again. Safe. Happy.

“I’m glad you guys came,” you added, genuine this time. “Owen would’ve been bummed if he hadn’t seen you guys.”

“Anytime,” Jake said. “Seriously. He’s like my little brother.”

Leah smiled, looping her arm through Jake’s. “He’s really the cutest.”

You watched as Owen ran off again, clutching a neon green basketball he’d just won, Jake breaking away from you and Leah to jog after him with mock dramatics.

“Dude, wait up! You're not even giving me a chance to shoot!”

Leah laughed and gave you a quick smile. “We talked about going over to bumper cars, would it be cool if we took Owen?”

You hesitated just a beat, glancing toward the vendor booths where more families were starting to trickle in. But Jake was a good kid. He always had been. And even if Leah was still new to you, she seemed to genuinely care about Owen’s safety.

You gave a small nod. “Just stay close, okay? And if you guys need anything at all—call me. I’ll be right here,”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said with a salute, already herding Owen and Jake in the other direction.

As soon as they disappeared into the crowd, you sank back down onto a nearby bench and pulled out your phone.

 Two texts from Jack:

Tryin for another hour of sleep. 

Love you.

 And a photo from earlier that morning in the living room—Owen holding Duke and grinning like a maniac.

You smiled, heart tugging, and quickly switched out and tapped on Robby’s contact. It only rang twice before he picked up.

“What’s up,?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me, Michael”

A pause. “Uh oh. What’d I do?”

“You bailed, Robby,” you said, but your voice was more amused than angry. “I told Owen you were coming. I told him he’d see his Unlce Mikey. You could’ve given me a heads up that Jake was showing up with his girlfriend instead.”

“Okay, first of all,” Robby said, unapologetic and teasingly, “I did mention I was thinking of coming in this week.”

“Yeah, but I assumed you wouldn’t, like you always do.”

He sighed. “I know, I know. I was gonna come for a few hours, but then the damn place turned into a warzone. Got six traumas in two hours and some poor intern—don’t even ask.”

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “Ugh, you men and your ER.”

“Right?” he said brightly. “Anyway, Jake really wanted to go, and he asked if he could bring Leah. I figured he’d be safer with you somewhere nearby.”

You narrowed your eyes, even though he couldn’t see you. “You pawned him off on me.”

“Nooo,” he said, clearly grinning. “I strategically aligned him with a responsible adult.”

“I’m not his mommy, Michael.”

“You might as well be his aunt, considering how much that kid loves you and Jack.”

You shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “You owe me.”

“Fine, fine,” he said with exaggerated suffering. “Family dinner’s on me next week, and I’ll buy Owen whatever overpriced plush nightmare he begs you for today. Deal?”

“Deal,” you said. “But I’m serious, next time give me a little warning before I walk into the teenage boyfriend-girlfriend babysitting arrangement.”

“Noted,” he said. “I gotta go—sounds like someone just puked on my staff, again.”

You snorted. “Good luck with that.”

He hung up, and you slid your phone into your pocket, glancing off in the direction Owen, Jake and Leah had gone. You could hear laughing—real laughing and it felt good.

You stood, brushing your hands on your jeans deciding it was time to go find the kids. You followed the path toward the bumper cars, weaving through groups of kids in matching school T-shirts and moms balancing drinks and phones. The sun was climbing higher now, casting a golden glaze over the whole venue, and the noise level had kicked up—music from the small stage nearby, the low grind of ride mechanics, children shouting and laughing, a vendor calling out about fresh churros.

It should’ve felt cheerful. Safe.

But there was a pulse in your chest that hadn’t been there earlier. Not panic. Not dread. Just… something. Like when a summer sky shifts ever so slightly and you know a storm’s coming, even if no one else has noticed yet.

You shook it off.

The bumper cars were up ahead, and you spotted Owen immediately—slightly crooked in the seat, steering like a maniac, laughter spilling out of him. Jake was driving the opposite direction, aiming like he was on a mission, while Leah leaned over the edge of the railing with her phone, filming it all and giggling.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and waved when Owen spotted you.

“Mom! Did you see that one? I spun Jake out!”

You grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “I saw, Baby!”

Leah smiled and came over to stand beside you. “He’s really good behind the wheel.”

“Just like his dad,” you said with a soft laugh, eyes still locked on the ride.

But then something flickered at the edge of your awareness—a man a few yards back, pacing near the ticket booth. Alone. Hood up despite the warmer weather. Not totally weird, but it pinged something instinctual.

You looked away, telling yourself not to start imagining things. 

You were in mom mode. 

You were overthinking.

Still, your gaze kept drifting back. The guy had stopped pacing now and was just standing there, hands shoved deep in his sweatshirt pockets.

You reached for your phone again, just a quick glance. Nothing more from Jack.

Beside you, Leah nudged your arm. “You okay?”

You blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, just… watching.”

“Totally get that. I get nervous watching people get on roller coasters. Like I know they’re strapped in, but what if—”

She cut herself off and shook her head. “Sorry. That probably didn’t help.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “I just… like to keep an eye on things.”

The ride ended, and Owen came barreling out of the gate, freckled cheeks flushed. “Can we do the tilt-a-whirl next?”

“Let me guess,” you said, ruffling his hair. “Jake and Leah want to do it?”

“Uh-huh!” he laughed.

“Alrighty, but I’m gonna join you this time. I can’t let you three have all the fun, right?” You squeezed Owen’s shoulder gently. 

You glanced back in that direction they had walked and spotted them about twenty feet ahead, Jake with his arm draped lazily over Leah’s shoulder, the two of them laughing about something on her phone.

As you took Owen’s hand in yours, you looked back toward the ticket booth.

The man was gone.

You scanned the area, telling yourself it was nothing. Maybe he left. Maybe he was just waiting for someone. Maybe he was never looking at anyone in particular.

But your skin was prickling now.

The crowd was growing thicker. The music seemed louder, a little too chaotic. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay grounded.

No sirens. No screams. No reason to panic.

But still—you reached into your bag and made sure your phone and wallet were exactly where you left them.

--

A bit later, You were leaned against the wooden railing near the edge of the food truck circle, letting the scent of fried dough and grilled sausage fill your nose while you scrolled through the pictures in your phone.

Owen’s smile was huge in every shot—hoisting the giant stuffed dinosaur he had choosen over his head, standing triumphantly on a painted podium outside a carnival game, laughing mid-spin in a blur of motion next to Jake and Leah.

Your heart squeezed, warmth blooming beneath your ribs. It hadn’t been the day you’d expected, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe this was even better.

You chose your favorite one—Jake had crouched behind Owen with a goofy flex, and Leah was pretending to kiss Owen’s cheek while he squirmed away, red-faced and thrilled—and attached it to a new message.

We’re having the best time. Gonna let them do one or two more rides, before we head to the restaurant ❤️

You hit send, then slid your phone back into your bag and looked up—just in time to see Owen dart off toward Jake and Leah, who were lining up for the swings just outside of the food trucks.

You followed slowly, keeping them in sight but giving them space. The wind picked up slightly, carrying voices, music, and the metallic squeak of carnival rides. You rubbed your arms—goosebumps, despite the warm day.

Something felt off again.

You couldn’t place it. Not yet.

It wasn’t a sound or a flash—just that shift in the air, like the pressure had changed, like someone had cracked a door you hadn’t noticed before.

Then came the first pop.

You paused.

One loud crack, sharp and clean, like someone popping a balloon too close to your ear. Heads turned. A few kids were startled.

Another pop. Then two more.

Your eyes narrowed. Not fireworks. Not part of the festival.

The music from the central stage screeched to a halt.

Then the screams started. One. Then several. People began moving—first walking quickly, then running.

Gunshots.

Your throat closed around your breath. You turned wildly—where were they? Where was Owen?

“Baby?!” you shouted, pushing forward, weaving between bodies, looking everywhere. “Owen!”

Then—blessedly—you saw him. Near the swings, crouched low behind a bench, Jake in front of him like a human shield, Leah’s arm around both of them.

You sprinted. Didn’t think. Just moved.

When Owen spotted you, his face crumpled. “Mom!”

You dropped to your knees, pulled him into you with a force that knocked the air out of both your lungs.

“Stay with me,” you whispered, kissing his temple. “Don’t let go of my hand.”

Jake’s voice was shaking. “We need to get out of here.”

You nodded fast. “This way!”

And as the shots rang out again—closer, louder—you ran.

You didn’t look back.

You clutched Owen to your side, your arm curled tight around his head, forcing him to duck as you moved. Jake was behind you, shouting something to Leah—but the noise was too loud. Screams. Sirens now, maybe? No—just more shots, ricocheting in the air like firecrackers set loose in hell.

People were stampeding. You could barely think, barely see. Your only goal was to get to the back of the lot—to the edge near the petting zoo where the fence dipped and the parking field beyond opened up.

You turned a sharp corner, skidding in the dirt. “Almost there,” you panted. “Just hold on—”

A deafening crack shattered the words in your throat. You didn’t have time to scream.

Leah gasped behind you—then collapsed, dropping like a ragdoll with cut strings. You barely saw her hit the pavement, but Jake screamed.

“Leah!”

You turned just in time to see blood—too much—pooling around her chest. Her hand twitched, trying to reach for Jake.

“No, no, no,” he was shouting, dropping to his knees, trying to cover the wound, but it was—It was her chest.

She was probably already gone.

You wanted to go to them. You tried. But then Owen let out a shriek—piercing and ragged—and your body jerked like you’d been electrocuted.

You looked down.

Blood. Owen’s blood.

“Baby—”

His leg gave out and he crumpled. You dropped with him, hands flying to his side where the crimson stain was already spreading through his little T-shirt. Not the leg. Higher. Too high.

“No, no, no—look at me, look at me,” you begged, pressing your hands to the wound. “Stay with me, I’ve got you, it’s okay—”

Another shot. You flinched violently, instinctively curling over him as a sharp, white-hot pain tore through your side. It took your breath. Took your words. You tried to move and screamed instead.

Jake’s voice broke through—panicked, breathless. “Go! Take him—GO! I’ve got Leah—he’s still shooting—GO!”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. But you pulled Owen’s body into your arms anyway, teeth gritted against the blinding pain, and ran.

You didn’t see where Jake went. You didn’t know where the gunman was. You only knew you had to move.

People ran in every direction—ducking, diving, falling. You stumbled into someone, nearly lost your grip on Owen, then shoved forward again. The access road was ahead. So close.

Owen was crying weakly, clutching your shirt.

“Stay with me,” you rasped, your vision blurring. “We’re almost there. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

And then—

A fence. An open gap. You fell through it. Literally fell—knees buckling, your body slamming into the grass, but you kept him with you.

Dirt. Blood. Sirens now, real ones, screaming somewhere far too far away.

Owen wasn’t screaming anymore.

He was too quiet.

And Jack still didn’t know.

And you couldn’t feel your legs. Couldn’t feel much of anything but the sticky warmth of Owen’s blood on your hands, your shirt, your arms.

Your side throbbed violently, each breath more shallow than the last, but you didn’t let go of him—not even for a second. You cradled his face, kept pressing your trembling fingers to the side of his neck, checking—still there. Weak. Faint. But there.

“Owen, baby,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Come on. Open your eyes for me.”

His lashes fluttered. A faint sound, maybe a whimper, left his lips.

You dragged yourself upright, blinking through sweat and tears. The access road stretched out behind the fence, gravel and dust dancing in the air from the chaos erupting just beyond it. You could still hear screams. Distant shouts. Faint sirens that weren’t close enough. 

Not fast enough.

“Stay awake,” you begged, your forehead pressing to his. “You can’t go to sleep, okay? You keep your eyes on me. Dad’s waiting for us. You’re gonna tell him about the dinosaur, remember?”

Owen whimpered again, a soft, slurred, “It hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know. But we’re gonna fix it. I promise—just—just keep talking to me, okay? Tell me your favorite ride. The best one today.”

His lips moved, barely audible. “The swings.”

You nodded, choking out a broken laugh. “Yeah? You were so cool. I saw you.”

A car engine revved.

You blinked.

A dark SUV skidded into view down the gravel path, braking hard just a few feet from you. The passenger door flew open.

Two strangers—one man, one woman—rushed out, eyes wide at the sight of you on the ground, covered in blood.

“Oh my god, Travis—” the woman gasped. “He’s a kid—he’s just a kid!”

“Help us,” you rasped, trying to lift Owen toward them. “Please—we need help..”

“We got you—we got you, hang on,” the man, Travis, said, already crouching to help lift Owen gently from your arms while the woman scrambled for the first aid kit in the back seat.

“No ambulances are getting through,” she muttered, already pressing gauze to Owen’s wound. “Too many people. We’ll get there faster.”

You tried to push yourself up, but your body screamed. Your side. Your leg. It was all catching up to you now.

“I can’t—” you whispered, dizzy. “I have to go with him—I can’t let him go alone—please.”

The woman looked up, eyes soft and certain. “You’re coming. I promise.”

Together, they got you both into the back of the SUV—Owen laid gently across your lap, your hand never leaving his.

The car peeled out, gravel flying behind it.

You looked down at your son. His hazel eyes were barely open, face paling. “Hey,” you whispered. “Stay with me. Almost there. You’re so brave, baby”

The gauze soaked through. Blood was on your arms, your stomach, your thighs—his blood—and the sticky warmth of it made you tremble.

His breath hitched. Too shallow. Too fast.

"You're okay, baby," you murmured, voice thick, trying to stay calm as your own side throbbed with a pain so sharp you could hardly breathe. “You're gonna be okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Owen whimpered faintly, the sound barely there. You ran your fingers through his curls, kissed his forehead, even though your vision was dimming at the edges.

“You're doing so good,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his. “You’re the bravest kid I know. Just stay with me a little longer, okay?”

The woman in the front passenger seat turned back to check on you. Her hands were still red from pressing on Owen's wound before the drive. “We’re almost there,”

“PTMC?” you croaked, not even caring how broken your voice sounded.

She nodded. "Yeah. That’s where we’re going."

You exhaled, one tiny shred of relief carving through the pain. Jack has to be there. Robby’s there.

If anyone could save him—it was them.

You gripped Owen tighter, your injured side screaming in protest. You didn’t care. You’d hold him together if you had to.

“I’m sorry,” the woman, who you still didn’t know the name of, said quietly, her eyes flicking to yours. “About the girl—your friend. The one who got hit before you ran. We saw her.”

You swallowed hard. Leah’s face flashed in your mind. Jake’s scream. The sound of her body hitting the ground.

“She was only seventeen,” you rasped, barely above a whisper.

No one said anything for a moment. The only sound was the roar of the engine and the panicked rise of sirens all around the city.

You felt the car lurch forward again as the driver turned onto the highway. You leaned back just a little, blinking up at the ceiling as your arms trembled beneath Owen’s weight.

"You're almost there," you whispered again, not sure who you were saying it for—Owen, or yourself.

And just like that—over the next rise—the skyline broke open.

PTMC loomed in the distance, lit up like a beacon. Like hope.

You closed your eyes for half a second, just to breathe, and then nothing. 

--

The SUV barreled into the PTMC ambulance bay, tires screeching against the pavement. Dr. John Shen was already there, clipboard abandoned, gloves snapped on ready to assess the new victims. The back door of the SUV flew open before the car had even stopped moving. 

A man leapt out, shouting, “Two gunshot victims—one kid, one adult!”

Shen was moving before the words finished. He ducked his head in, already scanning.

A boy—maybe eleven or twelve—was sprawled across a woman’s lap, his small frame slick with blood. His face was gray, eyes barely open, breath shallow. The woman underneath him was slumped, her arm still draped protectively around him. Blood covered her side and leg, a wound visible just below her ribs.

“Red tag!” Shen barked, pointing to the boy. “GSW to the abdomen—fading fast. Let’s move!”

Nurses swooped in. One of them reached to lift the boy, but Shen stopped them.

“Neck check first—don’t move him if there’s spine trauma!”

“Clear,” another nurse confirmed. “He’s bleeding bad—BP’s crashing.”

“Start a line in the bay. Tell everyone we’re coming in hot!”

Shen leaned in as the boy was gently transferred to a gurney. The boy groaned, a high, weak sound—and Shen breathed a sigh of relief. Still responsive. Barely.

Then he turned to you.

You were unconscious now, skin dull and damp. Pulse fluttered beneath his fingers—weak but steady. He checked your airway. No sign of obstruction, but there was clearly pain before you went under. Shen noticed the streaks of red down your arms—defensive wounds. 

Clearly you protected him.

“Pink tag,” Shen said quickly. “Delayed but stable for now. Get her to Zone C—secondary triage. Start fluids and monitor LOC.”

One of the ER nurses glanced, “She doesn’t have an ID yet—came in under civilian transport.”

Shen nodded. “She’s the kid’s mother. Keep them in proximity—she’ll want eyes on him as soon as she’s conscious.”

He turned back to the gurney now flying down the hallway.

“Who’s taking him?” he asked.

A voice answered just ahead: “Me.”

Robby was already pulling on gloves as he met the team halfway to the trauma bay. His face went sharp the second he saw the boy, expression turning from clinical to personal in a flash.

“That’s Owen,” he said, voice low. “That’s Jack’s kid, is his mom with him?”

Shen’s eyes didn’t widen, but something about him froze for half a beat.“We’re rolling her in next, you’d better work fast,” he said, already moving to the next case rolling in.

Robby swallowed hard, glancing toward the second gurney now being wheeled away. His stomach twisted.

Robby shoved the bay doors open with his shoulder just as the gurney was wheeled in. Owen was barely conscious, his head lolled to the side, skin pallid and clammy. The heart monitor was already hooked up and showed a weak but present rhythm.

"Vitals?" Robby asked sharply, already snapping on a gown and grabbing the ultrasound probe.

"BP is 78 over 44 and falling. He's tachy—160s. Resps shallow, sat's at 90 on non-rebreather. GSW to lower left quadrant, exit wound in the back. Looks like bowel involvement, maybe nicked the iliac."

Robby exhaled tightly. 

Stay focused. 

Just stay focused.

"Owen?" he called gently, kneeling beside the bed as they worked. "Hey, bud. It’s Mikey. I’m right here with you, okay?"

Owen’s eyelids fluttered. His lips moved like he wanted to speak, but only a soft noise came out. Robby gripped his hand.

"You don't have to talk. Just stay awake for me. You’re doing so good."

"Two large bores in," one of the nurses confirmed. “Hanging fluids now.”

“Get type and cross, send for four units of O-neg and get trauma surgery on standby,” Robby ordered. “I want FAST up now—we’re wasting time.”

Robby moved quickly, scanning the belly.

“Free fluid,” he muttered. “Left side. That’s blood. We’ve got internal bleeding—he’s not waiting.”

“He needs the OR now,” one of the trauma residents said.

“No,” Robby snapped. “Not until he’s stable enough to make it there. Get Jack. Tell him—tell him it’s Owen.”

Everyone paused for just half a second.

“Do not stop working,” Robby barked, pushing the urgency into motion again.

He leaned over Owen, brushing damp curls away from his forehead. "You're strong, kiddo. You got that from both your parents. You're gonna pull through this, but you gotta stay with me, okay? Just a little longer."

Another nurse leaned in with a pressure dressing. Robby applied it himself, firm and fast. The bleeding had slowed a little, but it was coming from deeper in the gut. He knew what this looked like. And he knew it could turn fast.

The OR doors were already being prepped upstairs for him.

Robby’s hands didn’t shake—but his jaw was clenched so tight it hurt. He couldn’t let his mind drift, to what he saw when they pulled Owen out of that SUV. He didn’t know how bad your injuries were. He didn’t know if you were even awake yet.

But right now?

He had one job. 

And that was to keep Owen alive.

--

The ER was fucking chaos. Codes left and right, everything in a constant movement, and the relentless hum of machines from all over. Jack was no stranger to this—he was in the pink zone, handling the more critical victims of the shooting. But despite his calm, practiced demeanor, his mind was anything but at ease.

He had been pulled in for the shooting response, already working through the wreckage, when he heard the news. You and Owen had been caught in the crossfire, though hopefully safe.

His stomach dropped at the thought.

Keep it together. They’ll be fine, he told himself. 

But nothing about today felt fine.

His gloves were soaked in blood as he continued to check vitals, giving orders, and directing the chaos around him. His pulse was still high, but it wasn’t just from the workload—it was the fear gnawing at the back of his mind. 

Where were you?

"Dr. Abbot, you’ve got a new Jane Doe over here," a nurse called out, snapping him from his thoughts.

He turned quickly, heart skipping in his chest. “What’s her status?”

"She’s stable, for now. GSW to the abdomen. Blood loss is moderate, went clean through. Civillians brought her in from the scene."

Without waiting, Jack followed the nurse toward the trauma bay. His mind raced, jumping to every conclusion. 

Could it be you?

When they arrived at the bed he saw you —his wife, unconscious, blood staining your clothes and skin. Quiet and umoving, but the machines around you were steady. 

His breath hitched.

“Get a line in, start fluids,” Jack barked, moving swiftly into action. His hands trembled as he checked your vitals, his mind moving a mile a minute.

Breathing was shallow, but there was still a pulse. The blood was too much. Too much to be a coincidence.

A nurse rushed past, checking on the other patients in the area, but Jack couldn’t tear his eyes from your figure. He reached out, brushing his fingers gently over your arm. It was warm, but the color drained from his face as he saw the blood pooling on the sheets.

“Vitals?” Jack demanded.

“Stable for now. She’s unconscious, but her body’s holding up,” the nurse answered quickly.

“Stay with her,” Jack ordered, his voice low and tight with barely-contained panic. “I need to know the moment her condition changes.”

He pulled back, trying to get his bearings, but the weight of the situation was suffocating. He couldn’t focus on anything else but you and he still had a job to do.

As he moved to step away, another nurse caught his attention, speaking in quick bursts. “Dr. Abbot, we’ve got another one going up to surgery—this one’s a kid, Dr. Robby said he came in with this Jane Doe.”

The word kid stopped Jack in his tracks.

His heart leaped in his chest, and his pulse roared in his ears. He took off without thinking, his legs moving as fast as they could. 

Owen.

He rounded the corner to another trauma bay, hoping, praying it wasn’t too late. The sight of the gurney brought him to a halt.

They were already wheeling Owen inside, the boy unconscious, his body pale and covered in blood. A small part of Jack’s mind screamed to reach out, to grab him, but the doctors and nurses were already in motion, preparing to take him up to surgery.

He stepped forward, but Robby was already there, directing the team.

“Owen’s been hit pretty bad,” Robby said, his voice tight with concern. “We’ve got him stable for now, but it’s touch and go and we need to get him upstairs, Brother.”

Jack didn’t even get a chance to ask more. He could only stand there for a moment, his mind spinning, before he was called back to the pink zone.

His wife—his wife was still lying unconscious just down the hall. Owen was going into surgery, fighting for his life. And he was supposed to be the one in control. But right now, he was helpless, and he had to keep working. “Fuck this…” 

“I know- I know this is horrible timing, but we still have people to help… They’re in good hands, you know that.” Robby placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, hoping it gave him some sembelence of comfort. 

“If something happens to either of them…” 

“I know…” 

-- 

The world felt hazy, like you were waking from a dream—or maybe a nightmare. Your body ached, and your head throbbed with the sharp sting of exhaustion. You blinked your eyes open slowly, the sterile white lights above you blinding at first. The beeping of a nearby monitor and the faint scent of antiseptic filled your senses, grounding you back into reality.

You tried to move, but your limbs felt heavy, as if they didn’t belong to you. Then you remembered—the shooting. The panic surged back in waves. The flashes of gunfire, Owen, Jake, Leah…

“Owen..?” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper as you turned your head toward the sound of the soft shuffle of footsteps.

Jack was sitting next to you, his hand wrapped around yours. His face was drawn, hazel eyes dark with exhaustion but filled with an intense, unwavering focus. He hadn’t left your side.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, leaning forward. His voice was rough, as if he’d been speaking to you in his sleep. “Hey, you’re awake. Thank God.”

You blinked, trying to focus, trying to piece everything together. “Owen... where is he?” Your voice shook, panic still clawing at your chest.

“He’s upstairs,” Jack said, brushing your hair back from your face gently. “He’s in recovery, he’s going to be okay.”

You exhaled shakily, trying to absorb his words. 

Owen’s okay. 

He was alive. 

You felt a strange weight lift from your chest at the thought, but it didn’t stop the rush of emotions from flooding through you.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “How... how bad was it?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, the corner of his lip pulling into a tight, controlled line. “You’re both lucky,” he said, squeezing your hand, his voice quiet. “You both took a bullet, but it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. Just some stitches, a lot of blood loss. You’re going to be fine. You’re tough.”

You closed your eyes, relief and exhaustion mixing together. Your body felt weak, but hearing Jack’s voice, feeling his presence, calmed the swirling storm in your chest.

“I don’t remember... I don’t remember much after we uh- we got in the car.” you said, frowning. The last clear memory you had was trying to get Owen to safety. 

Then... everything blurred together.

“Hey,” Jack’s voice softened as he leaned closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles gently. “You did everything you could. You kept him awake. You got him here.” He paused, his voice breaking just slightly. “You saved him.”

You blinked, the words sinking in. You had kept him conscious. You had gotten him to PTMC. It was all coming back in pieces. You wanted to apologize for not being able to do more, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing.

“Are Leah and Jake okay?” you asked after a moment, though you already feared the answer.

Jack’s expression darkened, and his grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Leah didn’t make it,” he said quietly, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “Jake is with his mom now though,” 

You felt your heart ache at the thought. Leah had been so full of life, so young. And now, she was gone.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t help it.

Jack was quiet for a moment, rubbing gently over your hand in comforting circles, offering his own type of peace. “I know. I know, baby,” he said softly. “But we’re here. We’re here, and we’re gonna make it through.”

The words didn’t erase the grief, but they gave you a small thread of hope to cling to.

You turned your head, your eyes searching for Jack’s, and found them filled with that same unwavering strength that had always been there. The strength you needed.

“How’s he doing?” you asked softly, still wanting to know about Owen, even as your body begged for rest.

“He’s alright” Jack repeated, nodding slowly. “They’re keeping an eye on him, but the doctors are sure he’s going to pull through. Kids are strong, and he’s just like his mom.”

You smiled weakly, your heart swelling with love for your son and husband. For a moment, the exhaustion and the fear melted away, and all you could focus on was the fact that you had made it—together.

“You need to rest,” Jack said gently, his voice low as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see if we can move you up to his room too…”

You nodded, your eyelids heavy. You let the warmth of Jack’s presence settle over you, a comfort you hadn’t realized you’d been craving so desperately.

“Love you,” you murmured, barely conscious as sleep began to pull you under.

“I love you, too,” Jack whispered back, his voice soft but steady.

And with that, you finally let yourself drift off, knowing Owen was safe and that they would be there when you woke up again.

--

Sometime later the hum of monitors and soft beeping were steady and low, like the pulse of the room itself. You sat upright in the wheelchair Jack had brought you in, a hospital blanket draped over your lap, your fingers laced with his. Just sitting here beside Owen was enough to crack you wide open inside—every breath a small miracle.

Owen was awake.

Groggy and a little pale, his eyelids fluttered half-shut as he blinked up at the ceiling, shifting weakly against his pillow. His little hand rested beside him, wrapped in a peds-sized blood pressure cuff, wires trailing from his chest to the monitor, a nasal cannula nestled beneath his nose.

Your heart squeezed at the sight of him. He looked so small. So young. But he was awake—and alive.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, brushing your fingers gently over the back of his hand.

His eyes fluttered open a bit more at your voice, and he turned his head slowly toward you. “Mom?”

You choked on the word before it could leave your throat. You smiled instead, nodding quickly, leaning as close as your body would allow. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Owen blinked slowly, his eyes finding Jack beside you. “Dad’s here, too?”

Jack stood from where he’d been crouched at your side, wiping at his eyes quickly as he walked over to the other side of the bed. “Hey, buddy,” he said, voice rough as he leaned down and kissed the top of Owen’s head. “Of course I’m here,”

Owen gave the smallest smile, tired and lopsided. “You came.”

Jack huffed a short, shaky breath and laughed gently through it. “Of course I came, I work here, dork.”

You looked between the two of them, your eyes misting over again. You reached out and touched Owen’s arm gently, your hand trembling with relief. “You scared me,” you said quietly. “You really scared me.”

“Scared me too,” Owen mumbled, his voice raspy. “But… I think I’m okay.”

“You are,” Jack said, looking at you. “The surgery went well. Robby’s keeping a close eye on you too.”

You nodded, your body still aching, your side wrapped and sore, but none of that mattered now.

Owen blinked slowly, brows furrowing as memories tried to catch up with him. “Where’s Jake? And Leah?”

You and Jack exchanged a glance—one of those heavy, silent ones you’d both learned to read over the years.

“Jake’s okay,” Jack said gently, sitting back down beside the bed, resting his hand on Owen’s foot through the blanket. “He’s gonna be just fine.”

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat. “Leah…” You paused, blinking hard. “Leah didn’t make it, sweetheart.”

Owen stared at you, his lip trembling just slightly before he turned his face toward the ceiling again, eyes glistening. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

You reached for his hand again, and he held onto you tighter this time.

Jack stayed sitting next to you while on the bed, his hands settling on your shoulders as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You closed your eyes and let it settle in—the three of you in this small space, this quiet moment of stillness after the storm.

“We’re okay,” Jack murmured against your skin. “We’re okay now.”

You nodded, eyes fixed on your son, who was already starting to drift off again under the pain meds. The road ahead would be long—grief, recovery, healing—but right here, right now, you had each other.

mercvry-glow 2025

[mywritersmind]

THE BOOTH - LN4

summary : The booth. A notorious club in the heart of london, where y/n and lando met again after two years of silence.

listen up : fewtrell!reader. She sits in his lap. no smut, just hot and suggestive. creepy guy in the beginning! Prob my fav short i’ve written omg

word count : 1732

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“No.” I giggle out of uncomfortableness at the man getting closer to me.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” the man reeks of alcohol and has fucked up teeth. I’ve seen enough. I pull down the bottom of my mini dress as I stand.

“No.” I repeat, pushing past him. The club is crowded and sticky, I see my friends but a hand around my wrist pulls me back.

“Really? Too good for me?” He scoffs in my face but the next thing I know he’s being pushed away from me.

“She is.” The voice comes from the man in front of me, the guy who pushed this dickhead away. “Piss off. She’s with me.”

The guy seems intimidated enough because he gives me a dirty look and leaves. “Thank y-” I pause when the man turns around.

I pause because the man is my childhood crush, brothers best friend, and fucking formula one driver.

“Lando?” I’m genuinely shocked that the britt I haven’t seen in two years is standing in front of me.

“Y/n!?” He looks me up and down, his mouth open, “Fuck… You look good.” I could say the same for him, in a navy button down, jeans, and his jewelry adorning his hands. He’s ridiculously hot.

I laugh, “Careful Lan, my brother could be lurking.” I switch my weight onto one leg as he smirks.

Max loves Lando. Max loves me.

Therefore, Max HATED the thought of us even speaking. We were all friends in childhood but our teens hit and suddenly I was completely off limits. I’m pretty sure he noticed how much I asked about Lando and swore that he would kill both of us if anything happened.

Someone walks behind him, causing him to get closer, his hand brushing against my hip, “Don’t scare me, yeah?”

I bite my lip at the thought, we start walking across the room, Lando’s hand firmly on me now as he ‘guides’ me. “Don’t worry. Idiots in Monaco… which means we have free rein.”

I see his jaw clench, his drink slide onto his lips again, “I’d like to keep my friendship.”

“I’d like to lose my panties.” I’m quick to reply, messing with Lando used to be my favorite thing.

You see, Lando is Max’s best friend. He feels bad lying and this would definitely be considered a betrayal of trust.

But for me… Max is my brother. I can lie and do whatever I want with no remorse. Lando is something I could do easily and as much as it would make me happy to piss off my brother, Norris has always been that one guy in the back of my mind.

“Christ Y/n. Missed your remarks.” We make it to the wall, it’s a bit quieter over here.

“You mean you missed my flirting?” I look up at him, he just bites his lip, hiding his smile.

“I missed you.” He surprises me with this.

“I missed you too.” I push my hand through my hair, “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Really good.” He smiles big and I know it’s because of his racing.

“Watched your win in Zandvoort.” I sigh, “Simply lovely was brutal.” He rolls his eyes, laughing and leaning his head back on the wall.

“Not you too!”

“It was hilarious! I liked it!” I hit his arm and the way he looks at me… it’s like every emotion that I've tucked away and only opened up in the darkness of my bedroom after midnight, comes out then. “I like this too.”

My hand goes to the back of his neck, playing with his curls that shape his baby mullet.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes cut into me, his voice weak.

“What?” I say innocently.

“You always do this.”

“Do what, Norris?” Lando never was that much taller than me, but something about the two passed years has changed that.

His tongue runs over his teeth, he’s about to say something but two guys appear next to us, “Mate! We’ve been looking for you!” Another British man speaks, Alex Albon to be exact.

“Found a friend?” Carlos sainz eyes me, dressed in all black.

I smile at the drivers, Lando eyes Carlos. “Max’s sister. Y/n.” They both nod and look much too interested in how Lando says it, “Y/n… this is Alex and Carlos.”

“Pleasure.” I smile wide. I am an F1 fan, it’s a bit weird seeing Lando on the grid but I’ll sit and watch with Max almost every weekend that we’re together.

“Pleasures all ours! I’ve always wanted to meet Lando’s childhood crush!” Lando hits Carlos, making him grab his stomach, “Worth it!” The Spanish man chokes out.

Lando scratches the back of his neck, not looking at me. “Are you here with anyone?” Alex asks me, I knew he would be nice.

“Yeah! I’m not sure where they are but…”

“That’s okay. You have us now!” Alex and I end up getting a drink, Lando stays back with Carlos who’s definitely teasing him.

I get a vodka lemonade and four shots. Alex and I are already best friends and laughing so hard that Carlos and Lando won’t stop asking us what’s so funny.

They don’t know that I showed Alex a photo of Lando and I as smurfs when we were five.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDO NORRIS

Describing Y/n is something i’ve done many times. To friends, for context in stories, but if i’d really describe her… I don’t think I would have an ending point.

She’s got long blonde hair. She cut it all off when she was fifteen and I almost fainted when I didn’t recognize her. She loved it.

She’s confident, you can see it in her walk. Her hips sway and the click of her heels is something I'll never forget.

When she talks to you, all attention is on you, her eyes are hazel, appearing brown in the dark but if you get close enough… you’ll see the green.

She never quite had an awkward stage, always been beautiful, probably always will be. I haven’t seen her in years yet she acts like I talked to her yesterday.

Y/n sucks on a lime after her shot, smiling and clapping her hands together, “God, I feel like i’m in highschool!”

I obviously didn’t go to school with her. She’s a year younger and Max would non stop complain about her. She was more popular than him, going out, and was basically friends with everyone.

I remind myself again that Max is the reason why my arm is around the couch and not her waist.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/N

“Norris!” I stand, holding out my hand, “Picture time.” I smile as he stands with me.

“What?” Carlos asks.

“Called the booth for a reason, Sainz!” I grin at the boys, gripping Lando’s hand tight and maneuvering us through the crowd.

There’s one photo booth in the back corner of the club. It’s notorious for famous photos and making everyone look good.

I look back at the boys who all look confused. All except Lando.

We came to the booth when Lando was in town from F2, we were 17 and 18. Max had gone off with some girl and we found ourselves in this exact booth.

We swore never to talk about it.

But I’m all for repeating history.

“Fewtrell…” He warns in my ear as we walk to the starred booth.

I glance back, dragging out his name, “Norris.”

He gets in first, unlike us as teens, only one person can fit. I smile and watch Lando’s face drop, I sit down on his lap, “Playing with fire here, love.” he says in my ear.

“I don’t mind getting burned.” He slips two coins in, his hand moving to my waist and holding me steady.

We smile first.

SNAP

I move a bit and give him bunny ears.

SNAP

Lando clears his throat, gripping my skin tighter as he looks at me. I move again, my skirt riding up a bit. “Trying to kill me?”

I smile and kiss his cheek, feeling something hard against me.

SNAP

“Of course.” I look at him, “The memories in here… You remember?”

“I’d be an idiot to forget.”

His hand moves down my hip, closer to my thigh. I look at him again as the photo booth starts up for the second time, “I shouldn’t.” He whispers, my face centimeters from his. I hear the whistles outside.

I shift once more, turning more to him. He groans, his head falling backwards and his eyes closing, “Give me a good reason.”

SNAP

He opens his eyes, meeting mine. I know I've got him. My hand rests on his neck, my rings pressing against his skin. He mumbles something but it’s too loud, “Speak up, Norris.”

“Never spoken.” His eyes flick to my lips, trying to get me to promise this is a secret.

“Never ever.” He leans in closer.

SNAP

“Come on rule breaker… I believe in you.” I whisper in his ear and it breaks him. I’m pulling his head closer to me, his lips on mine, a relief like no other.

He grabs ass, pulling me closer in the tiny space. I slip my tongue in his mouth, whimpering a bit. He bites my lip. I’m melting into him. It’s hot and needy but so much more than I could have ever wanted.

SNAP

Kissing Lando at Seventeen was scandalous and drunken. Kissing Lando at Twenty Three flat out sexy.

“Need you…” He whispers into the kiss which makes me almost come undone right then and there.

Someone bangs on the booth, “Alright Lovebirds!” Lando laughs but I'm the one to pull away.

“I can’t leave this booth.” He says quickly, his face red and sweaty.

“You’ll be fine-” I understand what he’s talking about when I go to leave and something brushes against my leg, “Oh.”

He looks away from me, blushing.

I smile, proud of myself for the boner and his pink cheeks, “Aw come on! I’ll cover you.” I wink and he rolls his eyes, He walks out behind me, his arms firmly on my waist again.

The two drivers grin at us, “You covering a boner?” Carlos starts but gets punched for the second time tonight by Lando. He holds his stomach again, “Still worth it!”

[mymoongirlreadings]

HOW YOUR BIRTH CHART SHAPES YOUR LOOKS 🪞

Check your Rising Sign | Planets in your 12th, 1st & 2nd houses | Planets aspecting your Ascendant, Midheaven & Sun ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Sun ☀️ - A super bright star in the room, although sometimes intimidating, their beauty is exciting. They get attention even if they don’t try; there’s magnetism, charisma, or sexual, youthful energy in their aura. Their Sun appearance expresses itself as a natural warmth, radiance, shine, & glow from within. Naturally glamorous, these natives can look expensive. These natives even have it when they are sad, and when this person is sad, I find it's super noticeable compared to their naturally shiny appearance. I believe their inner light & beauty is infectious. Sun-beauty natives are known for their glowy skin and beautiful Lion's mane hair, which can appear curly, voluptuous, shiny, or just frame them. Fantastic smiles paired with eyes that light up & influence. People feel lucky or honored to engage with you.

The Moon 🌙 - Can put you in your feelings just by looking at them; this is such a muse placement because of their subconscious affect. These natives look like they subtly illuminate a room, just like the Moon. These natives look pretty to touch because of their luminous skin & subtle glow. These natives can feel so satisfying to touch due to their soft hair, skin, and lips. They can switch from a “day to night” or “sweet to sultry” look just like the light & dark sides of the Moon. Mesmerizing in appearance, especially through the eyes, the eyes can tell a thousand words/feelings. There's a depth to their appearance, and they can default to using specific parts of their face that match their mood. Subtle smirks, glances & facial expressions can all be captivating & can entrance others.

Mercury 🎭 - A lot of their beauty is captured through their mischievous & animated facial expressions. Intricate, tiny & more detailed features within the face. You can notice more hidden gem features about them beyond first glance. Tends to be one of the placements that gravitates or looks great wearing their natural hair, embracing their natural features and with little-to-no makeup. They can often have a slimmer build/fast metabolism and be shorter in stature. These people’s hands can tend to be a very attractive quality about them. These people can send a message about how they are feeling or what they truly want to say through their appearance & self-expression.

Venus 🌸 - Very easy on the eyes to look at due to their facial symmetry & aesthetically pleasing facial features, which blend together seamlessly. Eyebrows, which shape the face and give the face a beautiful frame, paired with a beautiful, pouty lip shape. They are also known for their voluptuous body features, like a great chest or bum, for both men & women. Their natural gazes when they look at you or something, as well as how gracefully they move & interact with the world, can be very endearing to admire and take in. Men can have broad shoulders & strong backs. Women can have a sensual relationship with their bodies, making them entrancing when they engage with their bodies. A natural beauty.

Mars ❤️‍🔥 - Exudes a sexual energy through a raw & intimidating gaze with a strong & prominent face card. There can be a sharpness & deliberateness with their facial expressions, eyes, grin, eyebrows, jawline & eye contact. Since this planet rules over war, action & sex appeal, these people can ensue feelings of chaos, sexual attraction, and like we want to give them attention. These people are known for their fantastic facial frames & figures. They know how to move their bodies and can easily execute their objective outcome with whatever they desire. Can have a chiseled body and can have accentuated sexual body parts. Can serve piercing looks without trying.

Jupiter ✨ - Jupiter's beauty radiates, takes up the room, is the big idea, and has a powerful & influential presence in a room. They can really pull off "bigger is better" with their appearance, whether it be hair, makeup, tattoos, fashion, or bold looks; these natives can really pull off "extra." Can have wider facial features or bigger features like big eyes, big teeth, or a big smile. Jupiter can be curvy, and it can be seen in their voluminous hair, prominent breasts/chest, and arched back paired with nice hips. They can be tall & have a curvy body type or have a generally strong build. Can be continually "expanding" upon their fashion or appearance in this lifetime.

Saturn 🪐 - Can appear "put together", classy & timeless effortlessly. One of their most prominent features is the bone structure of their body & face. They can have prominent teeth, and although they can naturally default to a more stoic gaze, they have the most amazing smile. These people have a tendency to look well-structured, sound & strong even if they appear slimmer/smaller. They can have "sultry" features that can give them a darker aura or appearance, such as dark or penetrating eyes or eyebrows close to the eyes. These timeless beauties age backwards & like fine wine as they find themselves more & discover more of their self-identity.

Uranus 👽 - A one-of-a-kind beauty, no one else can completely replicate them. They tend to differ from most people you see every day. It can be difficult for others to pinpoint their ethnicity or race. You can find features on them that you normally do not see paired together. These natives can quantum leap in terms of their physical appearance, looking vastly different every few years or so. They can also pull off their own innovative visions for reinventing themselves through their appearance. Can pull off different looks & is very versatile with their features and style. They can also feel better when they are more mobile & flexible, a physical connection to their freeing & changeable energetic nature.

Neptune 🔱 - Has a mesmerizing, dreamy, and motion-picture movie look, aura and voice to them. Dreamy eyes that tell stories—these people easily become fantasies in people’s minds & memories. Different people can see the Neptune native through the lens of their own specific fantasy. Neptune is extremely powerful to have looks-wise because Neptune is the higher octave of Venus; it’s 5D beauty that picks up on video or in motion well and not just pictures. Excellent, purposefully captivating others energy if they wanted to energetically due to one of their gifts being the higher beauty, energetic mirror. The type of beauty that is felt & you contemplate taking your eyes off of them due to the subconscious energy.

Pluto 🥀 - A magnetic, seductive, piercing & extremely powerful beauty. A beauty that feels illegal to look at & experience up close. A beauty that is forbidden fruit to those who get them for themselves and stir feelings of jealousy in others who envy the power they feel from looking at them. The eyes are as intense as midnight. The type of beauty that is hard to take your eyes off due to the subconscious energetic effect. Exuding sexuality and passion through their calculated gazes. Their facial expressions & their body movements are in powerful harmony. Looks extremely good in black and a baddie, “bad boy” type of look. Easily inspires feelings of fear, confidence, and desire all at the same time.

[jinxvex]

omg haiii :3 #1 i just found your account and i love your works! the way you write is just… mwahmwahmwah. besides that! i’d love it if u could do a jinx x reader where reader is lowkey oblivious but jinx is super obvious with how much she wants to fuck… and when she finally gets to hit she degrades and dumbifies reader… orrrr am i just thirsty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

♱ fantasy. ♱

oh girl this is sexy trust, WE IS THIRSTY TEW!! also thank you, you’re so sweet!! i’m glad you enjoy my works :))

syp. the first time jinx set her glowy shimmer-charged eyes on you, she knew she had to have you—and she always gets what she wants. no matter that you were friends and you were oblivious to her constantly undressing you with her eyes, fighting her urges to completely ruin, defile, and destroy you. you’d come to realize soon enough.

cw: nsfw content!!, dom!jinx plotting on that p***y (lol), sub!reader (i'm a switch!jinx truther but let me cook...), a lot of degrading + dumbification, cursing, dirty talk, some praise, teasing, mocking, she forces you to take it!!, mentions of oral/fingering/gun-play, strap-on sex, hair-pulling, pet names (toots, hon, babe, baby, bunny, etc?), possessiveness, nastiness galore (lord forgive me!), reader’s past sex life is purposefully written to be vague, + prob more

wc: 4.2k!!

jinx’s fantasies involving you started a month ago when she was off roaming the rowdy streets of the undercity for a market sale. well, before it. she had begrudgingly taken up silco’s orders to keep tabs on the shipment coming in and out before the market opened to the public. for what? ‘who freakin’ knows?!’ she thought.

in retrospect, jinx was never an overly sexual person. she understood what it was, why people participated in it, and her own sexual preferences but she’d never devoted much time to finding someone to fuck or to fuck her for that matter. she's fucked before, but that was it. plunging her long, slender fingers into her own cunt while reading a racy scene in a shitty romance novel was enough to get her rocks off. she figured something was missing but she brushed it off.

her mind was… elsewhere most of the time.

(a month ago...)

lost in her thoughts, per usual, jinx doesn’t see you standing in all your beautiful glory. she walks right past you, eyes darting along everything she can see to accurately take in the information silco wants her to report back to him. she's still preoccupied with the inner workings of her mind and not too much with the zaunite public.

well, that's bound to change one way or another.

suddenly, she's stopping dead in her tracks. something's changed. the air feels charged, full of opportunity and something else. curly lines, shapes, and colorful graphics fill her vision—overwhelming but she feels as though she can really see clearly for the first time.

her nostrils catch a whiff of something… sweet. inviting. like freshly baked cookies although it's almost incomparable to how truly delectable the scent is. she's taken by surprise at the smell of something so good, good enough to eat, to devour. she’s never smelt anything or anyone so delicious. it intrigued her beyond belief, she knew that whatever it was, she was going to have that thing.

that’s when in her own self-induced frenzy she'd caused by frantically turning and thrashing around to look for where the smell led her, she sees you for the first time. as radiant as ever.

everything's in slow motion.

you're leaning up against a metal post and speaking to a market vendor, your voice as sweet as ever chatting to them about ‘who the fuck cares’. your smile is the brightest she’d ever seen living in a place full of drug addicts, violence, and poverty like you’ve never been subjected to zaun in your entire life.

she watches as you flip your hair to one side, hips swaying and fingers twiddling against your satchel. she watches you so intently, that she can see your eyes blinking slowly, she can count your individual eyelashes and remember the number for the rest of her life.

to say the least, jinx is enamored by the sight of you, let alone your smell. images of how good you'd look naked, and what your skin would feel like against hers cloud her vision, creating the perfect first impression of you in her mind. she looks further at you, specifically your ass and the jeans hugging it perfectly as well as the curve of your hips. the veins in your neck travel further down beneath your shirt and she can't help but wonder what your chest would look like.

bare.

before this moment, she'd never thought of somebody in such a vulgar light; it put her in a state of shock. she let her mind wander even farther off into jinx-landia and she imagines what it would feel like to slide her fingers into your pussy and press the pads of them onto your g-spot. she wants to know what it feels like to feel you get wetter and wetter and what it feels like to make out with your pussy—to push your own juices into your mouth and kiss you dumb. she thinks about testing how deep your cunt could get—how pretty your ass would look riding a cock, tits bouncing in the air.

controlling herself was something jinx always had problems with, so she isn't surprised when she is unable to stop herself from approaching you. her feet seem to be dragging themselves towards you like some sort of magnetic force.

“hiya, toots,” spills from her lips before she can even stop and think about what she's doing.

you pause your conversation with whomever you're speaking to, looking over in her direction to find her staring intently at you. confused and a little petrified, you stand up straighter, as you aren't expecting silco’s adoptive daughter to be staring you down at the beginning of some random ass tuesday morning.

“uhm, hey,” you respond, sounding more like a question rather than a greeting in return.

‘this is gonna be so much fun,’ jinx’s eyes light up and she lets her lips curl up in a friendly smirk, running through ways in her mind how exactly she’d ruin your body, mark you up, and claim you for herself.

because no matter what, nobody else is ever getting a piece of you now that she's sought you out.

no fuckin’ way.

…

somewhere in the present, there’s an idea—a certain narrative established between you and jinx.

you’re friends. good ones.

you don't know what else would explain the obvious liking jinx has taken to you. what else would explain the way she’s always touching you, looking after you, and asking you personal questions? questions so personal they have your eyes widening and gripping the edges of your clothes.

"have you ever, y'know, done it before? had sex?"

"what sorta stuff you into? like, sex stuff."

"you ever touch yourself? what feels the best? just trying to see if i could learn somethin' interesting for myself."

you never answer, often opting to lower your head in silence. how could you? it was wildly inappropriate and quite frankly, jinx made you shy. maybe it's because she's so pretty, and bold, and has a waist so small and touchable that you just want to-

no! 'why does she care so much?' you ask yourself frequently. no friend has ever been so crass...

duh! she gives a shit because she wants to fuck your brains out 'n then maybe cuddle you a bit! but you don't know that...

jinx follows you around too, insisting you need protecting since "you're too pretty 'n perfect" to not have protection.

one day, she started walking you to your god-awful job and never stopped. her excuse was, "can't have anyone takin' advantage of ya so early in the morning, princess. janna knows they'd try with a face 'n a body like that...whew", she whistled to herself.

needless to say, she kept your life interesting. she always seems to find you, no matter where you are. like she can sense your presence anywhere. you figure she doesn't have many people to talk to, everyone's scared of her being silco's daughter and all. but, you don't have anyone either; no parents or friends. no girlfriend.

well that makes two of you. sort of.

you both are currently smushed together on her sofa in her hideout making bracelets—snacks, craft supplies, and sleepover galore surrounding you. earlier on in the day, jinx had swung by your apartment (how she found out where you lived, you had no clue) and invited you over for a sleepover for the first time. you were surprised she was trusting you enough to let you see where she retreats at night and where she spends most of her time eating, sleeping, plotting; scheming.

she has a knack for making you feel special; like it’s just you two in the world and nothing else matters.

she makes you feel alive.

you’re shaken out of your thoughts by a grinning jinx. yes, physically shaken. both of her palms are placed on your shoulders, gripping them tight and looking into your eyes almost as a way to silently ask if you’re having as much fun as her. heat transfers from her usually cold hands to your skin which has you internally reeling. you’re wearing a tank top, comfortable enough with her to show a little something extra, “whatcha thinkin’ about, hon?”

you smile back at her, “nothing.”

you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your chest for a split second but you ignore it. her eyes move quick due to the shimmer, ‘you’re seeing shit, girl’ claims the angel on your shoulder.

“hmm, you’re lying.”

“am not!” you counter.

“are too,” she doubles back.

“whatever.” you finalize, emphasizing the ‘ever’. you’re not interested in arguing with her any further or giving her the satisfaction of proving her right.

you focus on the friendship bracelet you’re creating for her, determined to make it as pretty as you can for her. you want her to wear it—like it. love it, even. it fills you with a sick satisfaction knowing that soon you’d be wearing each other's creations, way more than it would if you just saw her as a friend. you see her pause her movements out of the corner of your eye but you keep going.

the faint sound of her own bracelet dropping to the couch cushion causes your head to rise up, looking at her in slight confusion. you’re not shocked to realize that she’s already looking at you.

“’m bored,” jinx replies blankly, pouting cutely.

“and grass is green. what else is new? you’re always bored, girl,” you playfully nudge her arm.

“well… grass has more of a grey hue down here so-“

the funny but slightly depressing joke nearly flew over your head but the knowing smirk on her face clued you in on her shenanigans.

you gasp in disbelief and nudge her arm a little harder now, fighting to stifle your laugh under your breath, “ha ha. very funny.”

“yeah, toots. i’m extremely hilarious,” she holds her head up high and crosses her arms above her chest.

she pauses, “let’s play somethin’.

she faces you fully now, right knee switching from resting next to your left to mirroring both of your knees, parallel to you. she scoots closer, and by now you know her calculating personality. you know that whatever she’s up to, has to be mischievous.

“ever hear of truth or dare?”

you roll your eyes, “of course i have!”

“then, you know the rules… right?”

“yes, jinx. i know how to play,” you rebuttal.

maybe you should’ve known her attention span wouldn’t last long while bracelet making. even if the speaker blared her favorite music at her gadget station, filling the space with a comfortable ambiance.

she smiles widely, “then let’s fuckin’ play!

“it’ll be so. much. fun,” she gets closer to your face with each word to emphasize her point, biting her lip and giving you intense eye contact. sexually charged eye contact. but again, you don't realize.

“fine. fine! but you’re going first. you're better at this sorta thing.”

she leans back to give you more space, just enough space to where it's socially acceptable to still be incredibly close to your friend. she's clapping her manicured hands together as her smile grows bigger and her shoulders tense with excitement.

"truth or dare?!" she asks in a televised over-dramatic fashion.

"truth."

'too easy' she thought. although, 'this is good,' her thoughts linger further. she figures she should start you off easy.

jinx has now stopped her clapping to put a finger on her chin in a thinking motion, obviously pretending to conjure up an interesting question that she's probably already picked out in her head.

"hmm...have you ever had a boyfriend?" she asks confidently, putting emphasis on the 'boy' part of "boyfriend" in a mocking manner; like how a sibling or family member would tease you about a crush.

your eyes widen, already caught off-guard by her first question.

"uhm... no. i-i don't really like boys like that."

she licks her lower lip and smiles once again, unbeknownst to you because you've just confirmed that she actually has a chance to win you over. although, she had her suspicions when she first met you.

"ever had a girlfriend?" she questions further, a serious, eerie edge to her voice appearing at the thought of you ever even romantically touching another girl. hell, in any way, shape, or form.

blinking rapidly, you shut her down quickly, "what, no! never really got the… chance to."

initially, you were going to tease her by mentioning that she was only allowed to ask one question but, you couldn't help but shake the feeling that she wasn't going down without an answer from you.

"awesome, good to know! your turn."

"okay. truth or da-"

"dare," she cuts you off delightedly.

you file through your mind to give her something entertaining to do but you find absolutely nothing, your mind blank like always the very moment you get around her. jinx makes you feel like you don't have to live your life thinking so hard. it's peaceful.

"damn, you are bad at this game," she snorts.

"hey, i can't help it. you've gotta help me here."

she raises a brow, "i mean, you could ask me t'do basically anything. y'know i'd do it," she slowly cocks her head to the side, still gazing deep into your irises. her braids follow the movement of her head.

"make it nasty."

"what the hell am i supposed to do? tell you to take off your clothes?!"

she doesn't waver, "yeah. yeah, that's a good one. do it."

you gulp, throat now dryer than ever and your fingers hurt from tightly grasping the fabric of your sleep shorts, 'here goes nothing.'

"u-uh... i dare you to t-take off your shirt," you order weakly.

jinx doesn't even let you finish your sentence before she's crossing her arms in front of her to tug the tiny, thin tank top off of her body, you follow her hands and you watch her chuck it on the floor carelessly. you look back up at her only to realize that,

she isn’t fucking wearing a bra.

you gasp in shock and secret arousal, eyes darting to the spot below you as you avoid looking at her soft, perky chest any longer, not wanting to over-step or make her uncomfortable.

"hey, you're startin' to hurt my feelings, babe. gave you that idea for a reason. makes shit more... interesting."

you look up to meet her eyes and for the nth time, you see her staring right back at you, gaze charged with something more than usual. you may have been oblivious, but you weren't dumb, something was definitely going on here. something that friends shouldn't do alone.

but you can't stop. it's turning you on.

the game continues on for many rounds after that, you and jinx switching back and forth from truth and dare, learning more and more about each other as time passes by. you start to get the hang of her outlandish questions, answering them shyly but not as reluctant as before. something you'd never get used to was the hypnotizing way her tits bounced with each slight movement, entrancing you. you learn that she's had sex once before and that she likes rope play and getting her hair pulled.

she also mentions other personal traits of hers that make your head spin, "y'know when i get wet, i get reeeally wet. like water wet."

needless to say, you know more than you should. she seemed to not mind telling you these things either, almost excited to clue you in.

"truth or dare, baby?"

"truth," you choose once more, the pet name affecting your better judgment and the seductive tinge to her voice causing the wetness already present in your underwear to leak through to your shorts.

jinx doesn't attempt to pretend to think of a question, "tell me, toots. what turns you on? what gets ya goin'?"

"what do you mean? like some sort of a kink?"

"yeah, like a kink."

embarrassment falls over your face like a dam breaking. you have to lie. this was getting too up close and personal for your own good and the only thing that could save what's left of your dignity is a lie.

"i-i don't know..."

so much for a lie.

her unhappiness with your answer is expressed when you see her narrowing her eyes at you. she leans in close, nose brushing yours and you can feel her warm breath on your face, "i know you're lying," she says real sing-songy-like. she's teasing you, and enjoying it.

her slender finger points in your face, “no fair! showed you my tits, toots! play by the rules."

"okay! okay! god, this is so fucking embarrassing-"

"c'mon..," she urges you on, eager to learn more about your sexual side and what takes you cream. she desired to know what made your pussy wet before she stuffed you full. but again, you don't know that.

"i-um. i read something onc-,”

she cuts you off once again, “don’t got all day!”

you sigh, “okay! i like getting called names. mean ones,” you blurt out quickly—sick of her antics.

“and i think i like it…rougher?”

her seemingly continuous stare falters for a split second before a bubbly laugh escapes her throat, smiling bigger and better than she has all day.

“oh, yeah? you like it… rough? you like getting treated like you’re nothin’?” she laughs out incredulously and somehow she’s gotten closer to you, lips almost close enough to graze yours.

“jinx… i- what are you-“

“what if we… played somethin’ else? somethin’ a little more worth our while.”

she figures, ‘ay, i’ve waited long enough…i need her'.

“like what?” you inquire even though you're no longer oblivious, catching on to what she means by “somethin’ else.” you feign innocence.

you feel a calculating hand travel up your leg, they’re slightly sweaty and cold which makes a shiver crawl down your spine. your chest visibly quickens, eyebrows furrowing, and eyes glossy with desire. jinx, still maintaining eye contact with you, remains calm although internally jumping for joy as she's finally got you where she wanted you the moment she laid eyes on you.

"how wet are ya right now, toots? you look like you're 'bout to cream your fuckin' pants!"

you audibly gasp, and she continues,

"i bet you're just drippin' down there... this whole time i've been sittin' here thinkin' you're being tortured answering all my questions, but, the entire time you've been gettin' off to it, haven't ya?!"

a single tear gathers in your eye out of complete and utter embarrassment. despite that, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fucking love it.

her hand stops at the edge of your top, fiddling softly with it, "you can tell me to stop, baby! but, i have a feeling you don't want that," she whispers against your lips. you feel her tug the bottom of your tank top tighter, balling it in her clammy fist.

"dont! d-dont stop."

and just like that, a switch flips in her head. she's grabbing the back of your neck and smushing her lips against yours, capturing them in a searing kiss that has your lips aching. as soon as you feel her tongue attempt to break into your mouth, you let her in.

you initially jump in surprise but quickly sink into the kiss once you get used to the overwhelming contrast between her cold hands clutching your waist and her warm lips pressed on your lips. soon, she's basically drooling into your mouth, tongue trailing over every detail of the inside of your mouth as if she's trying to memorize the space. it's disgusting, really. but, it makes your cunt sloppy.

jinx breaks the kiss to pull your top over your head. she throws it on top of hers. the same one she abandoned long ago at the start of the game. it creates a small heap on the floor of her cozy abode.

"fuckin' whore," she laughs.

you moan, biting your lip softly as a seductive tactic to keep her kissing you.

"wooow!!" she drags out humorously, pressing her hand against your throat and tightening slowly with each word that comes out of her mouth, "you really are a slut. you like when i'm mean, slut?"

you nod, words seemingly impossible to form at this point.

she tightens her hold on you, bringing your neck closer so her mouth resides next to your ear, "if you don't speak up, i'm gonna make it hurt. 's gonna hurt so bad, bunny. gonna torture you. ‘n i know it’s our first time and all! don’t wanna have to scare ya just yet!"

unable to stop rambling, she continues, "hmm... maybe i'll shove the biggest fucking cock i have into your tight cunt... no prep! betcha you'd take it so well. hell, you'd probably like it! you're nasty like that."

"maybe i'll stuff my gun in there...with the bullets inside."

"please, jinx. fuck me.”

she just smiles, “i thought you’d never ask.”

…

you swear you see your life flash before your eyes because of how hard jinx is pounding your poor, abused cunt into the couch cushion. she has you face down—ass up with your hands held together behind your back by her own hands. your face rests on the couch arm, halfway visible to her so she can marvel at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and crossing achingly.

her own eyes roll at the sight of you in such a lewd state, “fuck, toots! you’re takin’ this cock so good. suckin’ me in your pussy like a good little cockslut. mmph. jus' swallowing it whole, fuck!!"

her pace is fast but calculated; and planned. as always. she’s roughly rolling her hips into yours to produce the addictive whore-ish moans to spill from your mouth. she’s also focused on watching her cock disappear in you, your cunt swallowing her cock like it was supposed to be there. the open space is filled with creamy cunt sounds and skin-slapping noises.

“holy fuckin’ shit, hear that? ya hear that pussy creaming ‘round my dick? she’s talkin’ to me, baby!”

you speak, remembering her resentment towards you not responding to her, “y-yes! i-i do, jinxie.”

“yeah?! you think she’s tryin’ to tell me how much she loves me? how much she loves when i split her open on my dick?” she reaches below your stomach to slap at your clit right where the balls on the faux cock meet your skin and you shudder in pleasure.

“fucking love your dick, ‘s so good, s-shit!”

it’s like her mouth won’t stop. she’s relentless—bullying you with her words as well as her cock. jinx pulls you up by your hair so your upper body mirrors hers. she slows her pace to thrust deeper and harder in you, damn near knocking the wind out of you. that causes to you choke on your breath, and your mouth is open as far as it can go.

“h-hah! aww… ‘s just sooo good, isn’t it?"

"see what happens when you’re good for me? good lil’ whores get good dick, ‘n i love givin’ it to ya, hon.”

you’re uncontrollably moaning, voice echoing loudly as you beg her for more—to wreck you.

“more! m-more please!”

“more?!“ she removes her hand from your head to dig her nails into your hips so she can get deeper, so she can open you up.

“you. want. fuckin’. more?!” she slams into your pussy with each word.

your pussy is drooling with your arousal and the shared sweat between you and jinx. you can feel it squelching down your legs with every thrust and throaty laugh she lets out at your pathetic form.

“god, you should see yourself. such’a perfect slut.”

with every word you feel your pussy quiver, getting closer and closer to cumming around her cock. when you curl your toes and inch off of her to prevent yourself from orgasming a whopping 3 minutes in she’s not having it, quickening her pace but keeping her almost-painful thrusts deep.

“nope! gonna take it all. ya asked for it, toots! you begged me to stick my dick in you. so take all of it.”

“b-but ‘m gonna cum! don't wanna yet! oh my god, p-please!!” you beg her for the slightest bit of mercy.

uncaring, she leans down next to the side of your head, lowering her voice, “you’re gonna fuckin’ cum, ‘n you’re gonna cum telling me whose pussy this is. who’s is it, babe?”

“who’s feedin’ this cunt good dick?!”

“you, you! only you.”

“yeah, ‘s me. cum, toots. soak me—get me wet.”

and that was it, “fuck! ‘m cumming!”

you release a soul-crushing moan and triggered by your sudden high, you grip the edges of the couch arm and fuck your ass back on her to deepen her thrusts if that’s even possible. wetness squirts from your cunt and everywhere around you, soaking the entire space below you including jinx’s lower half. the last thing you remember before you pass the fuck out is the hazy, content look on her face and incoherent mumbles that probably consisted of,

“that was way better than a fuckin’ fantasy.”

…

PLEASE TAKE THIS FOOD WHILE I WORK ON MY SEV REQS!!🙏🏽🫣...

[ddejavvu]

no cause now I'm thinking about Garcia freaking out when Spencer comes to work with a smartphone and asking him what made him finally get one after years of her asking him too and Spence just going bright red and stammering trying to think of a reason that isn't related to your nudes 🤭

part 1

--

Spencer's text tone is what gives him away, because he's not interested enough in the device to use it for anything other than necessity. But the familiar whistle has everyone digging in their pockets until they see Spencer reaching into his own bag.

"Reid, I don't think it's your landline," Prentiss snickers, checking her own phone to find a blank screen.

"I got a new phone yesterday." Spencer grumbles, "And I keep forgetting to ask Y/N how to turn the sounds off."

Penelope blinks at Spencer owlishly as he retracts a brand new, shiny iPhone from his messenger bag, default background shining especially bright against the dark wood table. She'll tell him later that it's the switch on the left side, but now she gawps, "Spencer, you got a new phone?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" He already looks mildly annoyed at the teasing, probably because he'd stubbornly stuck to his outdated mobile for so long that his pride has an iPhone-shaped bruise.

"What made you make the change?" Hotch asks, voice gentler but curious all the same.

"Yeah, I've been begging you for, like, years, Reid." Garcia frowns, "Texting me isn't really texting me if I can't send you gifs from the gif keyboard."

"She favors the one of the dancing baby," Rossi drawls, "But I'm sure that's not what Dr. Reid felt compelled to upgrade for."

The notification that's displayed across his screen is a message from you, but that's predictable because he'd adamantly refused to get notifications from anything but text messages and calls. He's still partial to his newspapers, and he won't fill an online grocery cart if he can help it.

'Y/N: Attachment: 1 image'

There's not much he can see from the little thumbnail to the right of the notification, but- it's enough. It's the color of your skin, mostly the color of your skin, with splashes of red in between. He knows he can't open it now, and he wishes he had just a little more experience with situations like this so that he could maintain some composure.

"Uhm," He starts, cheeks most likely bright pink, "I don't know, I just- I just thought it was time, probably. Y/N says she didn't like that my messages were green."

"Oh, it's Y/N," Morgan croons, and JJ consoles Garcia with a sympathetic smile and a pat to the arm.

"Well-! And, and it's good for the GPS, but I do still prefer paper maps," Spencer rambles, "And it's- it's nice to see how many literary-themed emailing lists there are."

"Emailing lists," Morgan scoffs, "Pretty boy, you're signing up for spam. But whatever text has got you blushing there isn't about Shakespeare. Just let me know when you need a lesson in taking your own pictures, m'kay? She doesn't want weird angles or bad lighting, trust me."

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ leaning on you ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

read other parts first!!! : part 1 — part 2

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you somehow managed to cross the line with your bunny, can it be pleasurable for the both of you?

tags: 「NSFW! 18+ only! smut | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | hybrid wanting to mate | needy!lee know makes a return | humping/thighjob | nipple play | unprotected sex (i dont condone!) | anal | orgasms for both^^ | cuddles are here i promise | reader has no gender」

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hello! i severely apologize to all of you who have been waiting for this part to come out :( ive been struggling to find time to continue to write, and the motivation with it... but here it is! seriously... i can't explain how much i appreciate all of the love you guys have given to my stories♡ im so happy you guys love bunny lee know so much! i also wanted to keep this as neutral as possible regarding the reader (hence the anal) but you can switch it out in your imagination! (i wanted to have all readers to be able to enjoy!) also this is my first smut story being uploaded... i hope you guys have a good read><!!!~

(special shoutout to @omgsecretsecret for helping me edit this part♡)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"so do bunnies like you experience everything a human should?"

you didn't know why your mind was drifting towards this direction. for as long as you had minho in your house, you were sure your relationship would be 100% platonic. he was adorable as hell, eased your mind whenever any worries came to you, and was always there by your side. did that give you clearance to make a move on him? you didn't want to ruin the perfect relationship you two had, but you have needs, and you were wondering if he had the ability to share those same needs.

minho paused for a moment, sitting oddly still while you sat above him. you were sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with his hair while he sat on the floor with his head leaning against the mattress. his head was almost at a distance where you could press your thighs against each side of his face, but you resisted enough so the lingering thoughts of teasing him went away.

he turned around briefly to face you, "what do you mean by 'everything'?"

your face began to flush after you realized how insensitive your question could've been.

"not to pry or anything but... aren't bunnies known for... having a high sex drive?" you spat out quickly before your confidence faded away.

his eyes widened, this is the first time youve seen him this shocked at your words. he was too shocked to even reply to you, not that he had anything ready in his mind. you could feel his presence tense up and you wanted to steer clear of whatever dirty path your mind seemed to wander on. he didn't say anything and just turned back around, finally leaning into your thigh. he wrapped one arm around your leg, feeling your cool skin calming down his burning face. having him so close to you when you wanted to run away in shame felt strange. you were always used to being close to minho, but the sudden affection, especially after that moment, was out of place. your leg started to warm up because of his face. starting to relax a bit, you realized that it wasn't the right time to head across that line.

you smiled and started to play with his hair again, looping each little section around your finger into curls. they eventually sprung back to its natural shape once you let go. minho loved this time with you, when all you did was leave your worries for that day and focused on him. it was his favorite thing to do while being with you. he still carried the thought in his mind, 'maybe something would happen during my need for mating'. only time could tell the new moments you two would experience together.

during the late night, you and minho were cuddling in bed. it wasn't strange for the both of you anymore. you knew that minho felt more comfortable knowing that you kept him safe. cuddling with him was the least you could do to comfort him.

this night felt different though. the question you asked earlier felt like a reach into unwanted territories. you wanted him to expand on his feelings, but at the end of the day he was a shy bunny who got flustered easier than you thought.

unsure of your next thoughts, you closed your eyes and tried your best to go to sleep as soon as you could. feeling rustling from behind you, minho's presence inched closer to you. the movement didn't stop, you could feel him shaking now. was it too cold in the room? you stayed as still as possible, trying to make out the noise coming from him. he was whimpering softly, almost like he needed something desperately.

"m-minho?"

you turned around to face him, tears were welling up in his eyes. he was clearly distraught about something but you had no clue what happened. your heart sank, was it because of the invasive conversation from earlier?

he sniffed softly, trying to make out words but ultimately getting choked up.

"i... i need..."

his eyes glanced down to the bottom half of his body. tentatively scanning his body as to what he was trying to point out, the last and most obvious thing you noticed was a slight twitch coming from his crotch, the cloth sticking up as well.

'fuck... is this really happening?' you thought to yourself. you managed to repress and bury all the inappropriate thoughts you had about minho, but he was about to fuel it once again. his face was as pink as ever, in desperate need for your warm touch.

"is this what i think it is?"

"mating tendencies... yeah... i-ive never experienced it while being human, i dont know if it will feel the same. but i r-really need..."

he was huffing between words, stuttering as well.

"let me think for a second."

you turned facing away from him. rubbing your thighs together, trying to hold back the good aching feeling rising within, you couldn't help but panic for a second. would you help him out because he's in pain and needs to relieve himself? how would this moment affect your relationship moving forward? would it be a normal occurrence, or only during his need to mate? would it be better to just ignore it and try hold on to whatever you two had going on when you first met?

your rushing thoughts were interrupted by something warm, sticky, and hard. something poking at your thighs, trying to squeeze itself in between.

you couldn't help but let out a small yelp. that feeling began to rise in you. there was no way things were going back to how they used to be. the movement kept progressing, you glanced down in front of yourself to find the head of minho's cock against your thighs. you wanted nothing more than to take him, take his body, and pleasure the both of you were bound to have.

"minho please.." you reached down towards his cock, ready to progress. he misunderstood and took it as you wanting to stop. he pulled away, hesitantly, already missing the softness of your thighs.

"mm sorry... i j-just need.."

"hey," you turned around slightly to grab his face. you flashed him a small grin, making sure he didn't feel guilty for acting this way around you. "it's okay."

a tear started to stream down one side of his face. your reassurance made him slide himself back in between your thighs. you wondered how it was possible for it to feel so good on your bare skin. you had shorts on but it all of a sudden became more hot under the blankets. your thighs were coated in a thin layer of his precum. he gripped onto your body for a better stroke pattern.

sweet little moans erupted from behind you. minho was the one engulfing your body with his tall stature against you. however, you felt like you were in charge at the moment. letting your sweet bunny try and cum from your body was more than enough for you to start to get horny yourself.

slipping a hand under your shirt, you began to play with your nipples slowly. you shut your eyes and leaned more into minho's chest, hoping that he wouldn't catch you in the act. sweet little huffs turned into loud groans, he was in a trance and he hadn't even started to properly explore your body. he had ultimately noticed you leaning more into him, even arching your back. he wanted you to feel comfortable and not worry as much about trying to relieve yourself on your own. although you were the one trying to help him, he wanted to be the one to help you with your release too.

"let me.. please?" he said while placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to take your place on your chest. you moved your hand down in defeat, it was impossible to say no to him. his hands felt warm on your bare skin. swirling his fingers around you and occasionally pulling, your nipples hardened more and more. your breath started to get unsteady as you wanted more. shivers ran throughout your whole body.

gently breaking the contact of his cock and your thighs, you turned your whole body around to face him. you locked eyes with him and all the guilt and doubts you had in your mind about you two went away. his cock began to twitch at the loss of warmth. you suddenly placed your hand on him, slowly stroking and gliding on him, your hand becoming a sticky mess. he let out a strong huff and tilted his head back. you both were seeing stars. minho was unable to fathom that you were finally touching him, taking in all the strength to not cum right then and there. you were also shocked at how good you felt. seeing his reaction made you more comfortable and ready to move further.

grabbing your face with both hands, he placed a passionate, wet kiss on your lips. his tongue was determined and he kept moving his mouth in ways that sent you to heaven. pulling away to see your reaction, he smiled, "im still all yours, remember?" his voice just became more sexy to you than ever. you quickly locked lips with him again, smiling through it all. his lips were soft and plump from all the action, he bit the bottom of your lip to signal he needed some air. both of you sharing the same blushing expression.

he tried to drag your body back around but ultimately needed assistance. helping him out, you turned around immediately. sticking your ass out on his bare cock, you moved your hips up and down. minho was at his breaking point. he nudged his mouth near your ear, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down. "please? let me put it in... i need to feel you.." his breath was hot and low on your ear. you were surprised you hadn't melted into a puddle yet.

you didn't say anything. you were too drunk off of the bliss feeling lingering throughout your whole body. you placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your hip. he took that as a sign to start.

not a second to waste, he lodged his entire length into your ass, letting out a deep moan into your ear. you arched your back more and almost choked up on the intense yelp you let out. he filled you up so good, it barely hurt from all the precum he was dripping with. he also took his time on the first stroke, pulling out his length so you knew how its absence would feel. you squeezed his hand, wanting more.

he slowly stroked back in, his high coming back harder this time. you felt like your heart was going to explode. his slow rhythm became more loud and sloppy, the wetness spreading throughout your bodies. syncing your moans with each pump, you instinctively rolled your tongue to hang out and pant more. you wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible.

the pace began to increase, and minho wasn't holding back on his moans. this whole time he was in his human form, but this much work was bound to make him change. you didn't notice at first, but his bunny ears appeared and drooped down, gently caressing your face. being in his hybrid form made him more bunny like, it made him go faster. the rhythm was so irresistible, it was fast but gentle, hitting you in all the right places. you felt yourself being filled with more fluid, gliding himself became easier than before.

he held onto your body even closer and tighter. minho started to felt bad about involving you in this situation, but you did want to be closer to him in this way. he wanted to make sure you felt satisfied, so he held himself back and focused the pleasure going to you. the final stretch of your rising heat and the steady rhythm snapped you out of your trance.

"s-slower, please minh-ho," you whined out. you couldn't tell, but he began to smirk at the way his name sounded in that tone. it drove him crazy, the fact that he was actually making you a complete mess. you wanted to savor this addictive feeling, but the slower strokes made your body greedy.

it all came rushing in at once, you let out one last yelp as you rode through your high. minho helped you by holding on to your shaking body.

the sight of your worn body filled himself with so much pride, he was shocked that he hadn't came yet. "did that feel good?" his voice was low and velvety in your ears again.

"y-yes," you managed to whisper out. still sensitive, you could feel him twitching around your walls, which made you choke slightly between breaths. he was trying his best not to move too much, but his body wasn't on his side.

you wanted to help him, but first you needed to recover. he moved his head to your neck, slowly sucking and kissing around to make sure you were okay. his sweet behavior was very calming, especially after the first orgasm you experienced with him.

"dont you want to cum too?" your question snapped him back to the situation at hand.

"can i?"

you nodded lazily, about to doze off at any minute. however, minho was quick to return to his rough pace, making your eyes steady again. he buried his head back onto you, acting like the shy bunny you knew too. the deeper and harder he pumped, he suddenly whispered a quick 'fuck' under his breath, pulling out of you. he grabbed his dick and painted your ass with his warm, thick cum.

it was beautiful, seeing how happy he was to finally get his first orgasm as a human. he pressed his body up against you, getting all the cum and sweat on his body as well. he didn't mind it though, he was too tired to clean up.

he looked drained, you noticed the beads of sweat all over his face and body. he was glistening with a new aura, and he looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. he still managed to give you a crooked smile, letting you know it was a good experience. you started to get flustered, even though you two just experienced the most intimate action ever.

you changed your position, letting your face sit on his chest. you buried and hid your red face from him. he gently reached up to pet your head, soothing you to sleep.

waking up to minho distanced away, you couldn't help but pull him back into a cuddle. he had quickly turned back into his bunny form to recharge from the actions that took place last night. he didn't flinch at all from the movement, he just slowed his breathing down as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. you couldn't help but feel a little sorry about the sacrifice he took today. you pet his body slowly, kissing his head gently. you wanted to apologize for the state he was in now, but he was the one who made sure that it was okay to go through with in the first place.

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial @brainrotahahaha @kim-hao-han @b0os-jellfyfish @l33felix @wirwirfr @skzmylove75 @katsukis1wife @zyoopioo @katsukisloveinterest

© nmn-yty ★ 7.15.2024

[miyaz6ki]

kinich aggressively kissing you to the point you cant breathe. I can js imagine him holding your head against his and groaning while kissing you and then liQBQQHQJQKADFJTB AAAHAHEBWBS KINICH BRAINROT IS REAL

LIKE HE'LL TAKE BREATHS EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE BUT HE WONT STOP AND HE'LL BE LIKE

"I love your lips s'much."

SCREAMAIJNHHSGAGSBDB

──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა kiss 'till we're naked !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. wherein kinich can't stop looking at your lips, why not give him a taste?

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. new layout ++ cute request!! i'll write more tonight, for now enjoy kinich crumbszzz, day 1 of kinktober :3

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, making out/kissing, switch!kinich kind of (leaning more onto sub, I received the asks wherein they ask for sub!kinich soo), switch!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, riding (kinich receiving)

no one would've expected to see renowned hunter- kinich, pinning his long-time childhood crush friend to the couch. a hand to cup your cheek, this tasted better than victory.

a charged silence was shared between you both, you certainly did love your childhood best friend, platonically and romantically. he maintained eye contact with you, you were somewhat spread out in front of him.

"may i kiss you, pretty?" he pleaded, maintaining a stare that told you everything you needed to know. he wanted you so bad, he needed you. he gulped, getting closer to your face.

you could feel a rush of heat flush to your lips- by the time you realized, you had already closed your eyes as he leaned in. it felt like the world stopped for a moment, his warm breath could be felt over your nape.

but finally- their lips touch. a kiss wasn't just something you reciprocated with your mouth. no, to kinich; it was his whole body reacting to how you felt against his lips.

in no way shape or form was the first long passionate kiss you both shared perfect, but it was damn near close. he pulled away, a smile dancing across his face. he's still in shock, but that is not to say he didn't enjoy it.

his hand held your face carefully, inspecting it before going in for a shy peck on your lips. that was at first, but progressively he started to ask for more each time.

you both shared a small, quick, yet passionate kiss for a sudden moment. it was just like any other evening looking up through the roof of your shared home- the sky was just an ocean of stars. as they stared back into the scene before them. "..can i have one more?"

and something around five... six... seven kisses later, you already went this far, might as well continue from there. he slowly took his gloves off, running the pads of his rough palms across your body.

you could feel every grunt, and groan he let out against your lips. pulling away for a moment just to breathe, and get right back into it. . his warm touch making sure to explore as much as he could (and only the areas you were comfortable with)

kinich starts off by placing kisses down on your body- you couldn't help but giggle, a hand in his hair as he continued. "kin.. that tickles." he placed one more kiss, trailing back up from your stomach to your lips. "for the times you took care of me when I was sick back then."

another peck. "for the time you dragged me to your home so I could eat with you and your parents back when we were younger.."

"and.." one last soft peck he places, his lips aren't chapped anymore. the saliva made the texture of his mouth was a lot softer than before, at least that's what you noticed.

"for making me feel at home." -he continued. archons was he so in love with you.

you smirk as you decide to pull him in by his collar, a blush running up his neck, to his ears. heavily breathing after the bold move you just made. you couldn't help but hold his face closer. flipping your position over; positioning him under you.

you straddled yourself atop his hips, feeling him through your clothed cunt. the intoxicating sense of whatever kinich had in mind wasn't something you'd think he'd plan, but you won't complain of course.

aligning the head of his cock into your oh-so-sweet hole, he couldn't help but groan. "haah- s- s'good pretty.." you couldn't help but arch your own back, you already felt dizzy and it was 'just the tip'.

you started to sink down slowly onto his shaft. fuck it felt so good, his headwear over his eyes, he could feel the way your velvety walls clenched around the base of his dick.

his hands kneaded your waist, the more you whimpered, each time that he hit your center of pleasure. only getting more turned on how each time you roughly slapped yourself down onto him made such loud noises, it probably could echo out the window nearby.

plop plop plop! "ssshit baby, slow down, 'm not going anywhere.." his breath hitched for a moment as you rolled your heavenly hips against his.

"k- kiinnnn ahh fffuckk!" you shuddered from the way his cock hit your g-spot so well. " 'm also close, pretty, shiitt waitt.." feeling his length literally throb inside you.

kinich loved the way his cock split you wide open, your thighs trembling even with the first thrust when you sank down onto him. ohhh he felt himself getting even closer.

"mmf fffuck- keep talking to me, baby." the lusty tone in your voice made him even harder against your sweet little cunt. he wanted to hear everything- from how his cock made you feel better than any other guy has. they didn't deserve you anyway. to how it feels getting such lengthy girth inside you.

you suddenly gasp as your orgasm came almost as a surprise, kinich slamming you down harshly onto his hips, his head threw back, and your eyes rolled back. "ahhn- fffuck c- cumming-!"

kinich who felt his orgasm come faster as well, hearing the way you moaned out to him, telling him how he was so good for you, you creamed on his cock. he felt his load shoot up inside you. leaning closer to your chest.

"..can i kiss you?"

"again?"

"please?"

dunno about this, it seems pretty okay ish I didn't mean to make it smut at first tho LOL

[ferrarifinnick]

SWITCHING POSITIONS! | THE HUNGER GAMES HEADCANONS

going feral thinking about thg men and their fav positions to put you in. this was so much fun to write and sooo hot 🫢🫢 also this is a lil bit longer than my other thg headcanons. are we loving longer or shorter headcanons pls lmk?? anyway, enjoy <3

includes: gale, finnick, peeta

warnings: sub/dom, switch, p in v, manhandling, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum, creampie.

gale has an insatiable need to overpower you. he likes his body to be on top of yours, pinning you down and threatening to crush you if he ever decides to stop supporting his own weight. he’ll lift your legs over his shoulders in missionary then lean down to kiss you, just so you feel his weight pressing you into the mattress. but he doesn’t just want to weigh you down. no, he wants you to feel powerless. expect him to manhandle you. he’ll toss you around, lifting and bending you into whatever shape or over any surface he desires. and resisting is futile, so if you do, don’t be surprised when he takes hold of your chin and forces you to look up at his disappointed face. “thought you knew better,” is all he’ll say, before he’s lifting you into his big arms and bouncing you up and down on him.

it’ll be too slow, slow enough for you to whine at the punishment, and that pathetic cry is almost enough to bring him to his knees. almost. instead, he’ll say, “oh, so now it’s too slow for you?” with feigned shock. then he’ll shrug and say, “don’t be sorry for what comes next.” cue him pinning you to the mattress, face in the blankets as he rams in and out of your pussy from behind. when you’re crying out at your second orgasm, he’ll say “no tears! you asked for this.”

he comes alive in missionary, standing up cowgirl, and PRONE-BONE (hands on your back, full weight crushing you into the mattress).

when it comes to sex, finnick has very few reservations. despite his sexual past, he will turn very little down for you because for once he feels safety in his sexual explorations. the only nonnegotiable for him is being able to see your face at all times. it grounds him, and more importantly, it encourages him to enjoy sex. like gale, he likes showing off his strength by lifting you up and down on his cock. but finnick is a switch, and he loves the feeling of falling out of power just as much as he loves the feeling of getting it. so when you push him down on the bed (or sand, boat deck, or shower floor), he’ll put up no fight as you climb on top of him and take charge. expect strong eye contact, but don’t blink here or you’ll miss that smirk stretching into a grin. the only time it will disappear is when he’s about to cum. eyes rolled back, throaty moans spilling through his open mouth, and don’t be afraid when he pinches your hips and fucks his own up into you. he just really likes getting deep inside you when he cums.

shines best in standing cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary (he likes watching your face when he first pushes himself inside you).

peeta isn’t fussy. as long as you’re the one who’s over or under him, he’ll be up for anything you want. but being underneath you is his favourite, especially when you get a little bossy and tut at him for trying to push up into you, or when you peel and throw his hands away when he cups your tits without your go ahead. it drives him crazy to be so powerless, and he appreciates every second that he gets to watch you bounce or squat on him, because he knows just how lucky he is that this is his view. but sometimes you go too far. sometimes you pin his hands down for too long, or he’s had enough of your tuttings and teasings. sometimes he thinks you forget that he lets you be in control.

you might miss the dark shift in his eyes when he’s decided you’ve gone too far, but you’ll know it when he has your face pressed into the mattress, strong arms caging you beneath him as he grunts out “think you can tell me off, huh?” between powerful thrusts. “no, peeta,” you’ll cry out, but he’ll ignore you. he’ll keep going, thighs slapping heavily against the backs of your own. “peeta!–” you’ll beg, but this time he’ll tut at you and slide his hand over your mouth. “shh, i didn’t say you could talk, did i,” he’ll say, and when you silently shake your head, he’ll grin and affectionately say “ah, there’s my good girl.”

routinely finds himself in under you in cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, but comes alive in DOGGY!!

sorry but peeta’s makes me GIDDY hehe. please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging. love <3

[luxcuriousao3]

Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his arse as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Ты сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that belonged in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

-

less angsty ending