#that seems like in character halt to me

[the80hbee]

wait. EXCUSE ME? what the everloving fuck is THIS, flanagan

(book 2, burning bridge)

what the fuck. “If I were twenty years younger..”?! 

please tell me it’s not just me.

I was in the middle of washing an hour and a half’s worth of dishes when I suddenly remembered this moment. that felt relevant, by the way. fuck if I know why

idk maybe halt’s reaction is fine?? he does preface everything with an acknowledgement of the fact that he’s Much Older than alyss? so maybe this isn’t weird? it could be normal/understandable human reaction? y’all please. check me on this. I sincerely don’t know anymore.

is this kind of weird and slightly fucked up or is it just me

[image ids: two screenshots of white on black text. the first screenshot reads:

“The Ranger nodded. ‘More than I realized,’ he said. Alyss urged her horse close behind his and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

‘That’s for Will when you see him.’ A ghost of a smile touched Halt’s face.

‘You’ll understand if I don’t pass it on in person?’ he said. Alyss smiled and leaned over to kiss him again.

‘And that’s for you, you jaded, bad-tempered old Ranger.’“

the second screenshot reads:

“A little surprised by her own impulsiveness, she urged her horse ahead of him. Halt touched one hand to his cheek and looked after the slim blond figure.

If I were twenty years younger... he began.

Then he sighed and had to be honest with himself. Make that thirty years, he thought.”

[cern1cal0]

>> I'M THINKING MIKU MIKU OO-EE-OO <?>

[offthedeeepend]

,

[maliro-t]

.

[chuluoyi]

✎ stupid liar

- gojo satoru x reader

no way. impossible. you couldn't possibly be jealous of gravure idol gojo likes so much now... or could you?

genre: jealous!reader vs slightly jealous!gojo, crack, and obviously, fluff !!

note: based on this post :))

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Look, Suguru~ Isn't she pretty?"

Your eye twitched at the sing-song voice, lips twisting into a scowl as you glanced at him from the corner of your twitching eye.

No. You don't care. Not in the slightest.

You stabbed your fork into your cheesecake with more fervor than necessary though.

"Eh?"

"Inoue Waka!" Satoru exclaimed with an enthusiasm that felt almost too bright. "This is her in her newest issue!"

‘Newest issue’ being a bikini special, with the said model lay sprawled in the most revealing piece possible. That indecent photo had also become the wallpaper and lockscreen on your boyfriend's phone, and he shamelessly showed it off with pride.

You steeled yourself. Again. No. It's not a big deal. You weren't jealous, especially not over some... heavily-altered picture of a porn actress!

"Ahh, she does look nice..."

You attacked your now-mutilated cheesecake again, feeling your mood plummet further after hearing Suguru's response. Now you were convinced, all men are dogs!

"—but not exactly my type," he added quickly, his gaze darting towards you. His interest lay more in your reaction, which was why he stirred the pot further: "Is she your type, Satoru?"

Your boyfriend, whether oblivious or intentional, erupted into giddy laughter like a kid. "Ehh... why of course!"

His enthusiastic agreement seemed to echo louder in your ears than it probably should have. The cheesecake, once a treat, now felt like lead in your mouth.

That's it. One more time and—

But then, Suguru's voice cut through your irritated thoughts again, clearly amused. "Well, but I've always thought real beauty lies not just in appearances but in strength of character. Wouldn't you agree, Satoru?"

You knew it, Suguru was indeed the best. You dared to glance up from your plate, curious about your cocky little clown’s response. But you really shouldn't, because Satoru, the absolute cretin he was—

"Why are you getting philosophical all of sudden?" he sullenly grumbled. "Important thing is if she's hot, then she is hot." You could have sworn he briefly side-eyed you before saying, "And no one is hotter than Inoue Waka."

Stupid. Idiot. Insufferable.

Standing up, your patience dissipated into thin air. Your brisk pace made Shoko, who was beside Suguru, to quirk an eyebrow. "Oh, leaving already?"

"I'm going back. Have a practice."

"Ehh? You didn't say?" only now did your shameless boyfriend turned to you fully. "It's still break time—"

"Nanami is waiting for me, goodbye."

You didn't look back even once, too annoyed to notice that Satoru was gawking at your words.

Satoru couldn't believe this. You ignored him. You actually did… in favor of Nanami!

He was starring daggers at how the two of you conversing so amiably across the hall. You were his girlfriend already, but he could barely able to make you look as sweet as you were with Nanami just now. You were always prickly with him!

Okay, but rest assured—with Suguru he may have doubts, but with Nanami, he was convinced he outshone him by a wide margin, perhaps even ten or twenty times over!

"Why are you sparring with him?" he was sulking when he caught you on the way back to the dorms after school. "Why not Haibara instead?"

You scoffed. "And why do you idolize Inoue Waka and not Yuzuki Tina?"

Oh, so that's what this is about. Suddenly, he didn't feel as miffed as a stupid grin split his face. "Ooh, you're looking into gravure idols too?"

"..."

"Heh, if you're doing it for research purpose, that's totally okay~"

"..."

"Pfft, you're so jealous it's so great to watch—"

You halted abruptly, your annoyance now at its peak. Facing your infuriating boyfriend, you leveled a piercing glare at him that caught him off-guard. "Gojo, from today onwards, we're having a ban."

"Whoa, hey—"

"—and in the meantime, you can print Inoue Waka out of your phone, hang her in your dorm and kiss your wall instead—"

"Just a minute!" Satoru interjected, eyes rounded with slight alarm. "Don't be too hasty!"

He looked at you, really looked at you, and saw that you were actually upset.

A twinge of... what is it? Some kind of guilt, he supposed, pricked his chest. He didn't like seeing you like this, especially knowing he had played a part in it. You should be smiling sweetly and catching his heart with it, not frowning like this.

"Hey," he started, his voice softening as a small, sincere smile crept onto his face. You continued to look away, a stubborn pout fixed on your lips. Darn it, how did you manage to look cute while angry too?

"Look at me, I'm all yours, okay?"

That got you to shoot him a sharp glance, and boohoo!—the ice in your heart thawed slightly as you met his smile, which soon evolved into a toothy grin.

But then, in one swift strike, he pulled his phone out and took a snap of your very-not-ready face.

"Satoru!" you screamed in panic, trying to climb over him to pluck his phone. "No! Delete that!"

"Ah ah," he crisply snickers, raising his hand with the phone high above where you couldn't reach. After pressing a few buttons, he triumphantly showed you his phone screen, now displaying your flop picture in all of its glory.

"That's seriously awful!" you grimaced, a look of horror in your face. "Satoru, for real—"

“You’re adorable,” he countered almost immediately, his smile wide and unabashed—the very winning smile that won your heart. “My girl is cute as heck and you know what the best part is? She’s mine.”

. . .

—okay, you were now positively melting. This was irritating, how can you forgive him this easily?

You huffed, raising your chin high to cover the very sizzling heat in your cheeks. "Hmph. Keep that photo then. But I'm still sparring with Nanami though."

"Mm-hmm, whatever. I hope his foul hairstyle won't affect you—"

"Don't badmouth him! Wait, don't tell me... you feel threatened by him?"

"Wha? Why would I!? I have the better face, better wallet—!"

Together, you walked back to the dorms, the evening air somehow felt lighter around you. Satoru's hand found yours along the way, and the two of you kept up a playful banter, followed by shared giggles afterwards.

. . .

What you didn't realize, however, was that there was another reason behind Satoru's happy laughter... his secret little mission had been a smashing success~

Epilogue

“I put too much faith in Y/N. I’m disappointed.”

“We are paying Gojo, damn it.”

Suguru and Shoko let out collective sighs, looking at the two of you. They witnessed your little outburst and that sealed everything.

You used to not give in to so easily. Unfortunately now, you were whipped for that idiot too, enough to get jealous over him.

As Suguru opened his wallet, a realization struck. “Shoko, now that I think about it… why am I always losing these bets?”

“You could just suck… or maybe," she glances him over before letting out a snort. "Your bangs just bring bad luck?”

[alatusprinz]

when you call him good boy .

characters: wanderer/scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, albedo, xiao

genre: smut, (warning of explicit words choice)

-

Scaramouche/Wanderer sneers at you mockingly when the words fall from your mouth. His grip on your hips tightened as he snapped his hips into your behind roughly, deliberately thrusting in so deep so your back arches with your face buried into the pillow. He hated when your needy moans were silenced when it wasn’t on his accord, making him reach out to grip onto your hair roughly to pull your body up while holding onto your neck with his other hand, forcing you to find balance in an awkward position with your knees on the mattress and back against his chest. His hips never halted one bit, still thrusting in relentlessly into your drenched walls as your mind blanked out from the dizzying stimulation. Tightening his grip on your neck, he leans into your ear, almost purring in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

"Fuck, you like that don't you? Like being used like a little dolly for me?" You whimpered weakly as your scalp slightly burned from his tight grip, your body moving to meet his slams involuntarily from the force of his each thrust. It always felt like this, almost too good, too overwhelming from the borderline ruthless way he fucked you. As your broken moans persisted and he wanted to see you break down more, let go of your hair with a satisfied smirk and instead held onto both your wrists to pull your body back to meet his hips, manhandling you and taking you as he pleased.

His grip on your wrists tightened as pulled them back to slam your ass to his hips over and over, your cunt almost sore and aching from how he used you like a toy for his pleasure.

“Yeah? Fuck, call me that again, let me know how much of a good boy I am being.” 

-

Kazuha’s gaze was always starstruck and almost drunk in love when he was staring at you as he slipped into your snug walls over and over. He was so hypnotized by you, completely allured more every second you two spent together. And he never knew he could fall even deeper until you looked at him with that sultry gaze, mouth open and making the prettiest sounds for him, and called him your good boy. Your good boy. An infatuated smile blossoming on his face, his cock pressed in deep, then he moved in a grinding motion slightly as you squirmed and mewled in pleasure. He was looking at you with heart in his eyes, completely enchanted and greedy to see more of your beauty. Nobody could ever compare or hold a candle to how beautiful you looked under him when he made love to you.

That’s right- he almost whimpers at your word as his hold on your waist tightened, immediately pressing his lips onto yours. His kiss was needy, desperate to feel you in his arms, if there was anything in this world that he couldn’t lose ever, it would undoubtedly be you. Kazuha’s heart feels like it would leap out any moment now as he rolls his hips into yours, trying his best to go sensual and slow although his patience was running thin every time your breathy moans graced his ears. His lips lowered to your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and he whispered. 

“All yours my love, all yours… Your good boy, yours…” 

-

A soft moan leaves Albedo’s mouth in pleasant surprise at the praise he hears from you. His inquisitive gaze never leaves your face, in fact his sight never seemed to focus on anything else other than your pretty expressions when he made love to you. The way your eyes fluttered shut when his tip brushes over your sensitive spot (one he knows all too well by now), the differences in your moans when he grinds into you, slowly pushes as deep as he can to drag upon your tender spot, or when he sometimes indulge his greed and slams into you harder and faster as your nails scratched into his back- all of your precious reactions are recorded in his mind like a rewound tape. 

You called him good boy- his pupils dilated visibly if you had half the mind to notice, and suddenly he was all the more determined to please you more. His mouth latched onto your nipple, one hand gripping onto your waist as he rutted inside your warm walls, pleasured groans leaving his lips while he sucked on harder. You swore sight blurred as his other hand was suddenly rubbing over your clit, circling and flicking the way he knew you moaned the prettiest for him. He knew your body better than you did by now, Albedo took silent pride in that fact. And he intended on being a good boy for you every day and night, whenever you desire him.  

- Xiao almost gets too pleasure-driven from the moment your lips are on his more sensually, from the second your touches turn suggestive. His eyes are always clouded over with lust, desire and admiration towards you, he is hardly even lucid when he finally pushes into your eager walls, he can never control himself fully once he had a taste of you- all that mattered to him was you, your moans, and your face twisting in pleasure. That’s why when you first called him your good boy, he didn’t even hear it. His one hand was pressing yours to the mattress, fingers entwined as he rammed inside needily, it felt so good, he wanted to be buried inside your snug walls forever- this insatiable lust transfers over to his actions because as much as he tries, he can’t seem to be too gentle and from the way you moan sharply each time he slams in and his cock rubs against your insides just right, Xiao couldn’t find it in him to slow down anyways.

His fingers laced with yours on one hand, indirectly holding you down in place with how with each thrust made your linked hands sink down onto the sheets, and his other holding onto your hip so tight it felt like it would bruise,. You muttered out a weak “good boy” once more- this time he heard it all too well. He groaned in pleasure at your words, at your beauty or your tight cunt he couldn’t tell, all he knew was he had to give you more, make you take more of him. His lips are on your neck and his sharp teeth sank down on the side, his lustful panting and deep moans ringing in your ear. Your wince of pain was drowned out in the high-pitched whiny moan when his claws unintentionally dug onto your hips as he forced your walls to take all of him, slamming his hips to yours desperately like he would die if he didn’t engrave the feeling of your warmth around him inside his mind. Your sweet moans always made his heart flutter, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he bit down harder on your neck, rutting into you as though to remind you that you’re all his, and he’d be your ‘good boy’ always and forever.

[peachessndreamss]

Weirwood Tree

Summery : While in labour with their second child, Cregan and his wife take s short walk to the Weirwood tree to help get things moving.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Pregnancy and childbirth (nothing explicit)

Word count : 3k

A/N : Turns out you never shake being a Stark girl, Ily Cregan so much.

“I’m sorry t’say it, my lady, but your labours have slowed up,” the midwife said softly as she drew the sheets back over Lady Starks bent knees before dipping her hands in a bowl of water. 

“Slowed up?” Lady Stark repeated incredulously, dropping her head back on the feather pillow, “but it's been hours already,” she added, tears burning her eyes. 

The second child of Lord Cregan stark and his lady wife was in no rush to make their way into the world. Despite the frequency and strength of her earlier pains once the midwife and maester had been sent for, everything seemed to have come to an uncomfortable halt.  

The midwife had brought her ancient grandmother along with her, known through Winterfell and the winter town as Auld Joan, she had been a midwife in her own time and had delivered Cregan's father and uncle. She was mostly blind and deaf now but still attended births but spent most of the time sitting as close to a heat source as possible and dispensing wisdom if necessary. She was currently sitting in a chair next to the roaring fire, her ancient hands clasped on her lap, knuckles bulging out of shape and fingers curled like claws. 

“I know it's been a while,” the midwife said soothingly, placing a warm hand on Lady Stark's knee, “but sometimes it's just like this,”. 

“The last one wasn't like this,” Lady Stark grumbled, her mood darkening as she tried to shift around into a more comfortable position. 

“You mustn't compare one with another,” the midwife soothed before touching a cold cloth to the lady's forehead. 

“A walk will geyit moving ,” the old woman wheezed from her seat by the fire, “no’ this lying about,”. 

The maester, who had been mostly disinterested in proceedings up until this point shot the old woman a dark look, he was standing in the far corner of the room, a leather case of vicious metal tools clutched jealously to his chest. His grey robes matched his grey and sickly looking skin. He wasn't particularly interested in births or deaths or the everyday ailments of life and resented being summoned to the birthing room of any woman. 

“This position is agreed upon as being the correct way for labouring mothers,” he said coldly in a clipped southern accent. 

“Agreed by men who know nothing about it,” the crone grumbled. 

“What does she mean?” Lady Stark asked the midwife who was now gently feeling the swell of the lady's belly. 

“Baby's not quite in righ’ place, that's why things have slowed,” she explained as she pressed on the left side of the belly, Lady Stark winced, “but grandmother thinks a little walk might get things moving again,”. 

The midwife glanced over at her grandmother who had closed her eyes and was now looking peaceful in the flickering light of the fire, she looked back at her lady and dabbed the cloth over her cheeks before putting it back beside the bowl of cold water. 

“What do you think?”Lady Stark asked. 

She shrugged, making a point not to look towards the maester before replying. 

“It helped me with mine, and it wouldn't do you any harm,”. 

The maester opened his mouth to disagree and lady stark held up her hand to silence him. 

“Just walking through the keep, out into the godswood for the fresh air should do it,” the midwife continued. 

The lady nodded and lifted herself up onto her elbows, she addressed the maester, privately enjoying ordering the sour faced man about. 

“Lord Cregan is outside the door, fetch him in,” she said. 

Cregan Stark had paced the halls outside of his wife's rooms since he'd been asked to leave them several hours before. While he wasn't accustomed to being removed from parts of his own castle he respected that father's, even lords, were not expected to be present at the births of their children,so he was surprised to hear the door opening when he was fairly certain nothing much had happened yet. 

“My Lord?” The voice of the maester echoed off the walls as the lord strode into view, “your wife would like to see you,”. 

He nodded, his face stern as he stepped past the man and into the warm, dark room. 

“Seven Hells,” he murmured as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, instantly feeling the heat of the room rolling over him like a wave, sweat breaking out on his forehead and upper lip. 

As he looked around the room he was surprised to see the midwife helping his wife into her fur boots, a long, heavy cloak already covering her shoulders. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She turned her flushed face to him and smiled. 

“Yes, we're going for a walk,”. 

Cregan’s brows rose but he nodded without further comment, knowing better than to ask questions.  He watched nervously as the midwife helped his wife to her feet, ready to spring forward at any moment if it looked like Lady Stark might lose her balance. 

Once he was happy she was safely on her feet, Cregan stepped towards them, offering his arm to his wife, who took a small step and linked her arm through his. 

“Twice around the godswood’ll do it,” Auld Joan spoke from the chair, she opened one ancient eye that could just be seen through the folds of skin that made up her face. 

“Or as far as you need’t,” the midwife added, her eyes flicking towards the maester. 

From the darkest corner of the room the maester muttered under his breath “foolishness” but no one else could hear him or pay him a moment's more attention. 

As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell stepped out of the stifling room and into the cooler corridor of the keep they both gave a sigh of relief. As they walked they instinctively drew closer to one another. Finding comfort and strength in each other's presence. 

“This is an unexpected pleasure,” Cregan said as they stepped through the door of the keep and into the much colder air of the inner bailey. The ground was a mess of mud, straw, snow and grey brown slush that cracked and crunched under their boots. 

“Yes,” she agreed, her hand tightening on his arm as her foot slipped a little on a patch of hidden ice, “Auld Joan felt this would be the best way to get things moving again,”. 

Cregan nodded, “She's seen a fair few babes born in her time, she knows what she's talking about,” he paused and took a deep breath of cold air, “I think she might have even delivered my grandfather,”. 

“Surely not!” She exclaimed, looking up at her husband's handsome profile, “that would make her more than a hundred years old,”. 

“I've heard of stranger things in these parts,” Cregan said with a shrug. 

They walked quietly together, moving slowly and carefully through the slush.

“Not as easy as last time then?” He asked as they made their way past the archery butts where the young men of the household were practising and past the stables with their snorting horses and young boys shovelling straw. 

“No, this one seems to have an obstinate Stark streak in them already,” she replied with a soft laugh that sounded like music to Cregan's ears. 

“I seem to recall your own family are known for their stubbornness so I won't be taking all the responsibility for that,”. 

“Pigheadedness, I believe my father called it,” she replied with a laugh, Cregan gave his own snort of laughter. 

“Your father certainly has a way with words,” he agreed. Recalling a few choice phrases her father had used for him during their courtship. 

As the pair crossed into the godswood the sounds of the keep and the town beyond the walls seemed to fade away and they became the only two people in the world. The ground was covered in a dusting of snow which had frozen overnight and now crunched under foot. From the dark canopy of the trees small birds sang between themselves and bounced from branch to branch, leaves rusting and falling to the ground in their wake. 

“Aly is worried we won't have enough time for her when the baby arrives,” Lady Stark said as they passed under the first dark boughs, “she kept asking me if we were going to send her away when I was putting her to bed last night,”. 

“She's a sensitive soul,” Cregan replied with a soft laugh, his mind wandering to the little girl who was at that moment playing in the same nursery he played in as a child, waiting for his own younger sibling to be born. 

“I dread the day we do need to send her away,” she lamented, drawing her body even closer to his in the cold air. Her free hand resting low on the swell of her belly. 

“We've many years before that day, my love,” he soothed, “and perhaps many more babes to fill our home,”. 

Lady Stark laughed softly, feeling the dull ache of her labours growing in strength as they followed the well known path through the trees.

“You are insatiable, always wanting more,” she said softly and Cregan laughed. 

They had been married 6 years and now were as comfortable with one another as any married couple could expect to be. Having been friends before they’re union had made things easier but the months after Cregan’s return from war had tested them to their limits. The time spent apart had been long and difficult for the both of them, when Cregan had left he was already old beyond his years but on his return he was darker and colder than the longest winter night. He’d forgotten laughter, softness and gentleness and his first few months back in Winterfell had been fraught as the two learned to live with one another again and find their way back to the happiness they’d briefly shared before the dragons tore the realm apart. 

The followed a well trodden path through the woods, her arm wrapped tightly through his and his hand resting over hers, warm and solid. As they walked, Cregan listened to her breathing, noticing every change to her breath and hitch in her voice. He was ready to take her in his arms at any moment to rush her back to the midwife if was necessary. 

They turned a corner in the path and were now on course to the weirwood tree, its ancient face seemed to watch their approach and its blood red leaves reflected in the black water at its roots. 

Suddenly Lady Stark stopped, her free hand going to her belly with a sharp intake of breath, she groaned, her teeth biting into her top lip as a strong contraction wracked her body. Cregan tightened his hold on her, fear gripping at his heart and twisting his stomach. 

After a few seconds of pain her face relaxed and her eyes opened, her cheeks were flushed with colour and despite the cold there was sweat at her hair line. 

“I think this might be working,” she said with a small smile, “or perhaps the baby can feel the tree,” she added, glancing toward the weirwood. 

“A good Stark then,” Cregan replied, forcing a lightness in his voice he didn’t feel. 

She stepped toward the tree and he followed her closely, never letting her more than an arm's reach from him. Once close enough she placed her hands on the tree, feeling the rough bark rasp against her skin. 

“Do you think the old kings of the north were born under this tree?” she asked, turning her face up as a shaft of wintery sunlight broke through the dense leaf cover, “snow and leaves for their midwife?”.

Cregan raised his eyebrow in thought for a moment before replying. 

“They were certainly conceived under it,” he smiled.   

“Yes, I remember the stories,” she agreed, turning to look at her husband and seeing the playful glimmer in his eyes. 

During the long months of the war she’d found comfort in the thousands of books in the Winterfell library, starting with the histories of the North going all the way back to the first men and how those ancient kings of the North did everything important in their lives in sight of a weirwood tree, they were born, married, made oaths and died as close to the trees as they possibly could. The histories had included stories of rituals the ancient peoples had contrived to conceive their children under the boughs of the weirwood trees, they believed these children would have the gifts of prophecy or live impossibly long lives because the powers of the tree flowed through them. 

“Perhaps, when you’re healed, we should try it ourselves,” Cregan teased. 

“When this one is delivered I’ll let you know if you’ll be welcome in my bed again,” she replied with a sly smile, before adding “my lord,”. 

Cregan gave a bark-like laugh, stepping closer to her and slipping his arm over her lower back and around her waist. She turned to face him, moving her hands from the ancient and cold bark of the tree to the living warmth of his shoulders, she studied his features before taking a deep breath and letting her forehead press against his. Another contraction wracked her body, she groaned and gripped tightly at the fur and wool of his cloak, taking strength from his body into her own. 

“I think we need to go back,” she said softly, their foreheads still pressed together. 

“I think so,” he agreed without hesitation.

Keeping his arm wrapped around her waist the two of them turned, she leaned heavily on Cregan as they completed the loop around the godswood and headed back through the castle courtyard. The space now almost completely empty as most of the household had been summoned for the midday meal. 

The progress was slow but they soon made it back to Lady Stark’s chambers, the room was cooler now, the windows had been thrown open but the coverings drawn across them to keep the room dark. The two women were sitting by the fire, talking quietly while the maester was still standing in the corner of the room, glaring. 

The midwife jumped to her feet and took Lady Stark’s arm, allowing her to slip from Cregan’s hold and move toward the bed. 

“How are you feeling my lady?” the midwife asked softly. 

“It helped, the pains are coming much more quickly now,” the lady replied. 

“Baby will be here soon,” the midwife agreed, “perhaps before the noon meal is over,”

Lady Stark glanced over her shoulder at her husband pausing by the door. His broad shoulders blocked out almost all of the hallway behind him.

“I want you to stay,” she said softly as she was helped back onto the bed. 

He smiled but shook his head. 

“This is not my place” he said softly, as he felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat and in his eyes as he fought the sudden overwhelm of emotions. 

“Thank you, my lord,” the old crone said from her seat, “we’ll take care of them,”.

Cregan nodded, knowing well enough when he was being asked to leave, he gave his wife a final look before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself and resuming his pacing. He wondered if his own father had paced nervously or if he had taken to the woods to hunt until the deed was over with and the child was cleaned and neatly wrapped in a blanket. He couldn’t imagine being any further than the castle gate while Lady Stark laboured. 

As the midwife predicted the midday meal hadn’t finished before there was the high pitched, squalling cry of a newborn that caused Cregan to stop in his tracks and lean heavily against the wall of the hallway, his hand clutching at his heart that was beating fast enough to burst. 

The door to the chambers opened and the midwife stepped out, a smile on her face as she saw her lord in a moment of unguarded emotion. 

 “A son, my lord, hale and hearty and with plenty to say for himself,” she said, the sounds of the crying child still coming clearly from the room behind her. 

“God's be praised,” Cregan said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“Come meet him,”. 

Cregan felt his knees turn to water when he stepped into Lady Stark's rooms, the sight of his beloved wife cradling a squalling newborn was a joy that pierced his heart like an arrow. 

“Your son, my lord” she said with a tired smile, turning the bundle just enough for Cregan to be able to see the child's face. 

He stooped and took the child, cradling him close to his chest, for a few seconds the child stopped wailing, his blue eyes opening wide and taking in his first sight of his father. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, Cregan's own eyes filling with tears. One hot tear was about to track down Cregan's face when the baby in his arms screwed his eyes shut, opened his mouth and started to howl, his cries even more desperate than before. 

Lady Stark laughed from her seat on the bed, holding her arms out to take the child back. 

“Give him back, you're upsetting our son,” she said, grinning at Cregan who jealously clung onto the child, rocking him gently and trying to sooth the screaming babe. 

“Sorry my boy,” Cregan said softly, “but you'll just have to get used to me,”.

[kateschi]

by god, don't leave me

synopsis: in a heart-wrenching moment of despair, katsuki races through a hospital to find you, only to confront the devastating reality.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: have you noticed how much I love "where is my wife?" angst + major character death btw!!

katsuki’s heart pounds in his chest like it’s ready to explode. his legs push him forward, carrying him through the sterile, cold hallways of the hospital, each step echoing off the walls in a frantic, relentless rhythm.

“where is she?” his voice breaks through the silence, barely held together by a thread. “where is my wife?!”

the nurse at the counter starts to respond, her eyes filled with the kind of pity he can’t bear to see. his face contorts in desperation, and he doesn’t wait for her to explain.

he’s moving, his boots slamming against the floor, refusing to believe—refusing to even consider—that he might be too late.

another doctor, another nurse tries to intercept him, but he’s beyond hearing them. he pushes past, breaking into a sprint, his breath coming in gasps, wild and desperate.

when he reaches your room, it’s as if time stops.

there’s a stillness in the air that hits him like a punch to the gut. he stands there, gripping the doorframe, refusing to believe what he sees.

you’re lying in the bed, so quiet, so still. too still.

he stumbles to a halt, the sight of you stealing the last shred of breath he had left. you're lying there so still, too still.

the life that always seemed to burst out of you—the laughter, the warmth, the damn light—it’s all gone. all that’s left is your body, and that makes him furious, desperate, helpless.

“hey.” his voice trembles as he reaches for you, his hand hovering over your cheek before he finally touches it, cupping your face with fingers that shake uncontrollably.

the warmth he’s looking for isn’t there, the color gone from your skin. “come on,” he whispers, his voice barely a breath as his thumb traces your cheek. “come on, y/n, wake up.”

but you don’t respond.

he bites his lip hard, tasting blood, willing the agony to stop because he can’t let you go.

he’s gripping your shoulders now, his fingers sinking into you like he could hold you here, force you back to life by sheer will alone.

“you… you promised,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “you said we’d grow old together, remember? that we’d be those old, grumpy people who couldn’t stand anyone but each other.”

but there’s no answer, no gentle squeeze of his hand, no reassuring smile. just silence. he presses his lips to your forehead, his hands still cupping your face as if he can anchor you, hold you here with him just a little longer.

“you lied to me,” he murmurs, his voice trembling, harsh, as though he can will you back by sheer desperation. “you said you’d stay with me—no matter what. no matter what.”

katsuki's hands go slack, slipping from your face to the edge of the bed, where his knuckles press white into the mattress.

he stares, his mind refusing to process, searching for any sign that this is all some horrible, twisted joke.

for one unbearable, suspended moment, he almost expects you to stir, to open your eyes with that look that says he’s an idiot for worrying so much.

but there’s nothing. just the faint beep of machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the steady ache that presses harder and harder against his ribs, hollowing him out with each passing second.

his fingers curl against the sheets as a tremor runs through him, his breath hitching violently. memories flood in unbidden—moments he thought he’d have time to revisit someday.

how you’d laugh and shake your head when he’d scowl over some trivial thing. how you’d tuck yourself into his side on quiet mornings, your hand pressed against his chest, the sound of your breathing steady against his heartbeat.

katsuki feels his throat tighten as he leans down, forehead pressing against the coolness of your hand.

"we had a whole life planned out," he whispers, voice breaking.

“remember? we’d find that crappy house by the beach, fix it up, make it ours. you were gonna paint the walls bright colors, and I was gonna complain and pretend I hated it."

he lets out a jagged breath, eyes clenching shut as his shoulders shake, the reality tearing through him in waves.

this wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. there was supposed to be more—more days, more late nights, more everything.

“I don’t…” he struggles, voice barely more than a broken rasp, “I don’t want to do this without you.” the words slip out, hollow, stripped of all the fire he’s ever had, leaving nothing but the raw ache underneath.

he presses his face into the crook of your neck, searching for any hint of the warmth that was once there, anything to hold onto, but it’s gone.

and it hits him, like the ground crumbling from under his feet, that you’re really not coming back.

the weight of all he’s lost crashes into him. he thinks of the arguments that meant nothing now, all the times he’d leave you with a brusque goodbye, figuring he’d make it up to you later.

how you’d roll your eyes at his stubborn pride, laughing at how he’d scowl at affection in public yet draw you close the moment he thought no one was watching.

he’d do anything to take it all back, just to hold you again, to let you know he’d trade every bit of strength, every scrap of pride if it meant you’d be here, laughing at him, calling him out on his nonsense.

he doesn’t notice the tears streaking down his face as he stares at you, the silence so absolute it feels like it’s burying him.

the room feels colder now, like the world has shifted on its axis, taking you with it.

for a moment, he wonders if he can even go back to the life you both shared; if he can return to the apartment filled with pieces of you in every room, every corner.

katsuki’s shoulders sag under the crushing weight of it all, fingers curling around the edge of the bed as he takes a shuddering breath. he wants to scream, rage, curse the universe for being so damn unfair.

but all he can manage is a broken whisper. “I should have told you more… should have said it every day. you’d have laughed at me, said I was going—soft.”

he gathers you closer, pressing your body against his own as he begins to sway, rocking gently back and forth as though he can somehow soothe the emptiness inside him.

his chest shakes, the first tears slipping down silently, but then they come harder, a ragged sob tearing from his throat as he buries his face in your neck.

“I love you…” the words escape in a cracked whisper, his breath hitching as he clings to you, his grip tightening, desperate.

“I love you… I love you…” he murmurs, his voice breaking more with each word.

his tears fall faster, his breath coming in shuddering gasps, as if the weight of those words—the words he can never say to you again—is too much to bear.

“I love you,” he chokes out, each syllable fractured, his body trembling as he holds you closer, his tears soaking your shoulder.

his heart shatters all over again with every whispered confession, until he’s clutching you so tightly it hurts, his sobs growing louder, rawer, until he’s left gasping, brokenly repeating, “I love you—I love you, y/n—so much.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[wild-jackalope]

summary :: the times things went wrong during sex! Featuring my favs; Gojo, Choso, Yuji, Megumi and Toge.

warning :: sex, awkward sex (it happens), safe sex!

note :: all characters are of age!

Satoru (the sound)

The two of you had been going for some time, your third round of the night. Satoru had done a particularly good job in making you utterly wet, which was now the cause of your chest threatening to burst with laughter.

Whenever Satoru buried himself deep in you, it caused an odd kind of squelching noise. You placed your hand over your mouth, giggling against it.

Satoru had come to a gradual halt, noticing your puffs weren’t the moaning kind. “You’re laughing?” He asked in a tone that conveyed he was judging your juvenile sense of humour.

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood. Please continue.” It’d only taken a moment of silence before you laughed again, now joined by Satoru.

“Jeez, you’re stupid.”

Choso (too long)

It had been around 20 minutes, Choso was still panting against your neck with his dick buried deep inside you, rutting against your insides.

You’d already reached your climax 10 minutes ago, so now his dick felt like it was giving you an inside gut punch.

“Choso, you close?” You huffed, clawing at his back.

“Almost there, my love.”

You whined, staring up at the ceiling and debating how much longer you could keep up. You’d already tried clenching around him, but hadn’t seemed to help and making out only made him slow down to appreciate your kisses.

You tapped on his shoulder, sighing gratefully when he slowed to a stop.

“Can we take a break? I’m feeling a little raw.”

His eyes seemed to widen with the realisation and he slipped out of you. “I’m so sorry for not noticing.”

“No no, it’s fine baby just give me a little bit and I’ll be okay.”

Yuji (no protection)

You’d been making out for at least an hour, with Yuji’s body pushing you into his mattress and his hands cupping your rounded curves.

He’d barely even broken from your lips to pull out his desk drawer and feel around for a condom. However his hand failed to brush against any wrappers.

“Fuck, I forgot to buy my condoms.”

“Are you serious?”

The two of you were well horny by now, each reeling from the effects of arousal.

Yuji eyed you carefully, face flushed and expression needy. You leaned back into the bed defensively.

“We’re not doing it raw.” You stated. He exhaled sharply.

“I know, I know. Damn.”

Megumi (came quickly)

You straddled him, sliding carefully onto his cock before relaxing at his base. This was a position neither of you had tried before, both your excitement was palpable from the way his dick twitched and how your pussy gushed.

He breathed sharply, fingers digging into your thighs holding you still. He needed to pace himself, otherwise this would be over too soon.

Playfully, you clenched your walls around him.

“Shit.”

His hips bucked into you, humping out his orgasm. You felt warm cum pool into the condom, causing you to shiver. “Already?” You asked.

He only responded by palming his face, covering his embarrassment from you.

“You must really like me topping you.” You grinned, kissing the hand that covered his face.

“Shut up.”

Toge (poor communication)

“You want…”

“Bonito flakes.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, face red and utterly flustered. “Crap. This is really hard. I can’t tell what you want me to do.”

He wanted you to relax and not overthink things.

“I don’t know where I can touch you. Do you even want me to touch you? Do you even want to have sex?” You asked, fretting that you had gotten the wrong idea.

Toge rolled his eyes. One would think him making out with you until your lips were red raw and touching every sensitive part of your body was a good indicator that yes, he did want to have sex. “Salmon.”

His answer only further worried you. So instead of attempting to talk, Toge took your hand and placed it on his crotch, letting you feel how hard he’d gotten.

You flushed.

“Right, I think I understand now..”

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan Cheater

(Fifth official post)

(Character’s name-Isaiah)

Yan Cheater who shameless cheats on you, the whole town knows, and then smirks when you berate him for his promiscuous ways.

Yan Cheater who always manages to keep you with him, usually by threats of blackmail or begging. 

Yan Cheater who, despite his hedonistic faults, doesn’t want to leave you. He still loves you, but sometimes you bore him.

Yan Cheater who become panicky when you start to ignore, then he starts to throw a fit when you give him the cold shoulder.

Yan Cheater who temporarily halts his promiscuous actions to try and woo you again. He doesn’t want to loose you, he loves, really he does! (He doesn’t, but he’s too much of a coward to leave you)

“Please baby, don’t leave me! I swear I’ll never do that again!” He begs, desperate to bring you back into his arms. He reaches for you, his arms open and attempts to embrace you. 

Unfortunately for him, his actions are undesired and therefore you slapped him, then told him to screw off and then  you kicked him out of your house.

Yan Cheater is absolutely devastated when you kick him out, this is a bad sign, what if you leave him? His mood isn’t even lifted when that annoying neighbor he hooked up with invites him over. (He rejects her invitation politely, then decides to just wait on the porch until you let him back in or give him his clothes)

Sadly, he doesn’t get invited back into your house, nope, instead you toss his clothes out and then you hand him a sleeping bag. You locked him out, he can’t understand it and he has no idea how to repair this relationship.

Yan Cheater who mourns your break up, even after weeks have passed. He doesn’t understand what happened, he thought for sure that you would’ve stayed with him. (He knew all your secrets after all) But you didn’t care of he told the world about your crimes (not that there were any serious ones going on). In fact you only seemed to encourage him to inform the whole world of what you’ve done.

Yan Cheater who still hasn’t gotten over you, you and him were dating for so long and he just can’t fathom the idea of being separated from you.

Yan Cheater who snaps when he sees you flirting with your best friend, he decides then and there that he will get you back, and nothing will ever separate the two of you again.

Hence he kidnapped you, locked you in his basement (don’t  worry it’s fully furnished) executed your best friend, blocked all other contacts on your phone and then began his to try, and salvage your relationship. 

It doesn’t work, but he has all the time in the world to try and it’s not like you’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Yan Cheater who swears to be true to you and to stay with you for all eternity. 

(Short post today, but enjoy it anyways and feel free to comment)

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess - Teaser

Full story out now! ♡

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Angst, some fluff, a bit of smut (no actual sex scenes of the sorts but they’re very sexual towards each other)

Synopsis: If ATZ, the biggest and baddest mafia in town, were asked what their prized possession is, they wouldn’t say what you think. It isn’t the money, the cars, the jewels, the priceless paintings or anything of the sorts. As cheesy and unexpected as it sounds, they would answer each other. Now while on surface that is true, the reality of it is their most prized possession, their true treasure, the one they don’t even dare let people know they have in true fear of it getting taken away, is you. Their Princess. So what would happen when one night, you don’t come home?

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, implied sexual activity, death/murder (not of the major characters), alcohol consumption, MxM of course. So because of all of this please ⚠️MNDI⚠️ if I missed anything please let me know! (Will most likely add more when the full story is out).

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie (if you wanna be tagged when this fic releases or if any of you want to be taken off the Taglist please let me know!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“My loves, have any of you seen or heard from Princess?”

Silence.

Nothing but silence as all discussions of work seems to halt after hearing Yeosangs question.

“Is.. she not home yet?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“Well.. I can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone…”

“What?!” Wooyoung exclaimed as he quickly pulled out his phone and called her number.

Yunho took a glance to the clock on the wall and saw how late it was.

“It’s past her curfew. She knows she’s supposed to be home by now.”

“Forget that! She knows to always answer us. And she’s literally not answering us!” Wooyoung groans after the call goes unanswered.

“She’s just supposed to go shopping again!” Jongho exclaims.

Suddenly they hear the front door open.

Believing its you, they all quickly rush down. However what they find are only your body guards, bloodied and bruised.

You?

Nowhere in sight.

At the sight of their bosses, your guards quickly got on their hands in knees. A position that screams begging for forgiveness.

“S-sirs! We’re sorry! So terribly sorry!! One second we were watching over her then the next we go-“

BANG

Hongjoong had no need for useless explanations or excuses.

His Princess was taken.

All he needs now is her back.

Mingi takes the gun from Hongjoongs hand and steps forward.

He kneels in front of one of the other guards and grabs him by the hair, positioning the gun under his chin.

“Where?”

“D-downtown! The alley near her favorite Chanel store!”

BANG

Jongho then takes the gun and aims it at the last guard.

“SIR! Please no forgive me!! I will find her! I will-“

BANG

Protecting you and making sure you come home safe was these guards only job. And yet they have failed.

Now they’ve lost you and to them there is no greater sin.

As Yunho is cleaning the blood off of Mingi’s face, Seonghwa turns to the maids and the henchmen stationed in the room. Clearly terrified as they’ve never seen their bosses so angry.

“Clean this up. We want this place spotless. Not a single trace of these sinners left behind. And get everyone to work. Find her. Check every corner. Turn every stone. Use any informant we have. Use any methods you can think of. Do what you must! And Find. Her. Now.”

With that they all scrambled and quickly got to work.

Your husbands then left the room. Rage and determination emanating from their very being.

They will find you.

And those that took you will pay.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

At another mansion on the other side of the outskirts of town, much smaller than the one he calls home, San is residing. He’s currently on an undercover mission to get information they need to get rid of this nuisance of a mafia.

Once they got wind of how the head of the mafia likes collecting and having ‘toys’ around no matter the gender they knew one of them had to play the part.

After careful consideration and discussion they agreed upon San.

So currently he’s in the living room in nothing but a fur coat and his boxers, as how the man requests all his toys to dress, with said man and the rest of his toys. He’s just drinking his whiskey as the man plays, wishing he was back home.

Suddenly the door was slammed opened and a girl was thrown to the ground.

“Sir, we’ve retrieved what you’ve asked for!”

One of the henchmen announced loudly.

San acted uninterested and nonchalant until he glanced at and unfortunately recognized the poor girl on the ground.

..Princess..?

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2024

[i-starcreamed]

Hi I heard you make transformers one oneshot umm I hope you won't mind, this actually a D-16 oneshot " what if his s/o get shoted instead of Orion" or " D - 16 meeting s/o for the first time"

D-16 / MEGATRON X READER

I combined both requests :3

cybertronian!reader SPOILERS FOR TF ONE Puree angst, character death, sadness :(

You were also a miner, like Orion and D-16. You met in a similar way they did.

You grunted, your limbs aching from pushing around the minecart around all day. It was filled with raw energon rock at this point, so it was a lot heavier. Last night, you hadn’t recharged well, and now you felt like you were running on your last drop of consciousness... Your optics widened when you unexpectedly bumped into something in front of you, sending your minecart toppling over and spilling its contents.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—“ You hissed, watching all the progress of the day come crashing down onto the floor. You pursed your mouth in frustration; this really sucked.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let me help you out, here.” A calm voice came from in front of you, prompting you to avert your optics toward the bot you had bumped into. You paused--hmmm, he was a handsome bot. You eyed his armor for a moment before realizing you were staring.

“Sorry! Uh, I’d appreciate that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You muttered, kneeling down to pick up your rocks, him beside you. He let out a small spurt of a gruff chuckle.

“No worries. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here. I’m D-16.” He introduced himself, you still remember the way he smiled at you. You nervously smiled back

“I’m Y/N. I was actually uh...promoted just recently. I’ve never mined energon before. It’s harder than I thought.”

“Oh, well, it gets easier. You get better at it too.” He said, tossing the last bit of rock back into your cart and helping you turn it upright.

“So where were you headed off to?” He asked, walking beside you now.

You took a deep breath. “To the trains? I was told to report to Elita-1 afterward.”

“Psh, really? That’s a coincidence, so am I.” He said lightly, grinning at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

It started as a friendship—you, Orion and D-16. You were a little trio. Despite this, Orion always noticed the particular… attention you paid specifically to D. When the three of you joked around, you would always look toward him to watch his reaction—or rather, his smile. You became bashful when he helped you with something, he, in turn, softened up around you. It didn’t take long for Orion to see right through you—meanwhile, D remained completely oblivious!! History says you were just friends

Eventually, you two started dating! You made a sweet couple, with Orion constantly third-wheeling. You can imagine everything you went through after kind of illegally participating in the race, getting thrown to Level 50 as a punishment, and uncovering the location of the Primes.

You watched as your lover changed, and it pained you. You saw his anger slowly shift and shift, first towards his best friend, then at everyone else. You watched as he became feverishly focused on killing Sentinel.

“D, don’t!”

Your yell went silent as you ran in front of sentinel, the blast from D’s cannon hitting you instead of him. The impact blasted through your chest, ripping through armor, your casing, and your wiring—until it struck your spark. This was the turning point when D-16 became.. Megatron. His optics widened, he stopped seeing red for a split second.

He watch as your body fell, the whole world seemed to come to a halt.

“Y/N!” He yelled and dived after your body, momentarily forgetting about his anger. Before you could fall into the depths of Iacon, he caught your arm. He didn’t waste a second as he desperately tried to pull you up. You had no strength left to help yourself--your body hung limp.

“Why! Why did you do that!?” He yelled at you, his voice shaking. As you slipped between consciousness, you realized you’d never heard your lover so emotional. Not like this.

“You can’t go, you can’t, you can’t you can’t—“

“D…”

Your arm started slipping from his digits. “I’m so sorry…you have to.. stop this. Please,” you whispered out, the light in your optics flickering.

Megatron stared at you, partly in disbelief at you and himself. “I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this, I-I promise,” He hissed, his servo desperately holding on. You knew you didn’t have much time left.

“D, please don’t this. I love you. I always will. No matter what I’ll always remember you as my D-16.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, roaring in anguish as your body slipped from his grip. He watched as you descended into the depths of your planet. You were going to become a part of Cybertron again, just as they all started out as. He’s so sorry.

He’s sorry he’s not the D-16 you knew.

Despite this loss, he still became Megatron. Afterall, he had nothing to lose now.

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐤

Paring: Mentor!Lilia Calderu x Reader

Summary: With volatile and unpredictable magic you never know what can happen.

A/N: Still grasping how to write Lilia, so I hope it’s in character!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

I hope you guys like it, let me know!!

Warning: Accidental magic, magic cock, blow jobs, vaginal sex, creampie, large dick.

Word count: 3.7k

Date: Nov 09, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

Tag list: @yourbasicqueerie @mgruiz @yippie-kai-gay @confuseuniverse @aggieharkness @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @walkethisway @honkhonktheslutshere @ratsnestinmyhair @audreylise @kenzie-floops @pattiluponespopcornmaker @moonlightprincess696 @trindad2k @etherynn @astrxinze

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The kettle makes a hissing sound, the boiling herbs fill the room with a sweet scent and the morning sun shines into the stove. The gray haired witch hums a tune under her breath and walks around the room, collecting more ingredients for the tea. She feels freshness in the air, an inkling that something good is about to happen. 

Sundays are always calm, she closes up the shop for the day and entertains her apprentice. You’ve been working under Lilia’s guidance for a month, being the only witch in your family meant that no one could teach you. You were lucky enough to stumble upon her one day when browsing on your computer. 

You aren’t a divination witch, you still don’t know what your deal is, but your magic is volatile and unpredictable. Lilia teaches you with the best of her abilities, and that is more than you could ask for, you look up to her and dream of reaching her level of wisdom. 

As you enter the shop, you hear her moving around in the back. Walking into the room, you halt when the tarot reader stops in her tracks. Her entire body freezes and she lets out an unrestrained moan in the middle of the kitchen. 

Pursing your lips, you wait for her ‘episode’ to end.

“Hi.” You let out timidly, standing by the bead curtain. 

She turns around, wide eyed and arms raised in the air. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned. 

She waves you off with a flick of her hands, facing the stove once again. Her visions always seem to sour her mood and leave you anxious, more times than not, she doesn’t know what they mean.

Passing the strap of your bag over your head, you place it on the squared table before heading to the counter. Resting your hip against it, you observe Lilia grab the kettle with a towel clad hand. 

“Do you want some tea, doll?” She pours it in two mugs before waiting for an answer, you nod either way. 

She passes you the ceramic cup and you rapidly grab into the handle when it burns you. The aroma hits your nose and you groan. Lilia always makes the best beverages and this time you smell a blend of lavender, lemongrass, and a few other herbs you couldn’t quite identify. The taste is as divine as the scent. 

“How have you been this week?” She leans next to you. 

“I’ve been fine.” You tell her uncertainty and amends. “There have been a few accidents…nothing I couldn’t handle, though.” 

She hums into the mug as she takes a sip. 

“And those ‘accidents’ were?” She probes.

Swallowing the liquid, you hide your face behind the cup.

“Okay. Let's start then. The sooner you can control your magic the better.” She walks past you, her robe fluttering behind her. 

Leaving the empty cup in the sink, you follow her to the middle of the room. 

“Did you practice what I told you?” She asks patiently. 

“Hum…” You hesitate. “I did.”

“And?” All her weight shifts to one leg as she places a hand on her waist.

“Well, it worked!” You exclaim, trying to lay her off. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “To a certain extent…”

“Okay.” She takes a breath in and straightens her spine, arms at her side. “Show me.” 

Transfiguration. 

You’ve moved beyond learning how to change the corporeal form of an object, and have now evolved to modifying the physical appearance of yourself and others. What she’s teaching is pretty basic, but for someone who didn’t know she was a witch for most of her life, it’s hard to grasp, especially with a temperamental magic like yours.

Closing your eyes and concentrating, you feel goosebumps rise up on your skin as your magic flows through you. When your powers are under control, they feel like a waterfall being released, spreading over your body and consuming you. Outbursts were a very different story.

Opening your eyes, you see your mentor gently smiling at you. 

“Good, that’s good.” She praises, and you break into a huge grin. 

Receiving her approval is something that always warms your insides. 

Grabbing your hairs ends, you observe the change in color. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was enough for you to see your improvement. You turn the purple strands back to their natural color. 

“Great. My turn.” She says encouragingly. 

Pressing your tongue against your lips, you grimace at her.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“You have to learn.” She tells you firmly before adding. “As a witch, you must know how to defend yourself.”

You blink at her. 

“Relax, baby. Anything you throw at me I can reverse.” 

Your brain short circuits at the pet name.

That was probably your downfall. Lilia always tells you true witchcraft takes time and concentration, especially for beginners. 

Her expectant face makes you close your eyes, and let the magic flow through you again, but this time it's different. Your head thinks of nothing else besides Lilia’s voice and how she called you, you can’t focus on your intention and you feel the spell going wrong before it’s completely finished. In an attempt to join your jumbled thoughts and the power running over your skin, you imagine Lilia with longer fingers. 

It doesn't seem to work because in a few seconds you hear a screech.

“Divine Mother.” 

Peaking through one eye, you first glance at her face, her reaction making you expect a major change in her appearance. She looks the same, her hair still tied up, her nose doesn’t look bigger like some sort of wicked witch and her eyes remain the same color, the only thing you notice is her shock. 

Her arms are raised breast level and that’s the next thing you look at. Expecting sausage like fingers, you’re surprised when you’re met with her usual handful of rings. 

“What?” You frown. 

Your gaze drifts over her figure and that’s when you notice the bulge in her skirt. 

Squinting, you almost crouch down to get a closer look. The thing is huge, cylindrical and pressing forward, clearly constricted by something. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what’s in front of you and you stare long enough for Lilia to clear her throat. You glance up and it dawns on you. Oh, god. 

“What were you thinking about when you did the spell?” You gape like a fish out of water.

Was she honestly continuing the lesson as if this wasn’t happening?

“Well, I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that.” You gesticulate widely, a blush rising in your cheeks. 

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sways. The movement makes her skirt brush against the hard on and you gulp when your vision is automatically drawn to it.

“Concentrate.” She tells you firmly and you meet her eyes, pursing your lips.

“Why are you losing? That’s a simple transfiguration spell, you can undo it. You just told me that!” 

“No, it isn’t.” She speaks calmly, noticing she’s making you anxious. “This is a magical penis, a much more advanced incantation. You shouldn’t be able to do this at this stage.”

“Okay…?”

“There’s no way I can make this go away.” She speaks to you like someone does to a child. 

“What?” You ask, agitated. 

“Advanced magic, harder to undo.” She tells you simply. “There’s only two ways to get rid of it. The caster has to be the one to take it away.”

“Well, let's do it. It’s not that difficult, right? I’ve already put it there.” You respond with renewed energy, waving at her crotch.

This is not going to be a bigger problem than it should. 

“No, it’s not easy. You did this by accident.” Your sight strays to it again and it looks like it’s staring right back at you. “You need to focus this time, so you can do it consciously.” 

You hum absently before closing your eyes. The problem is: the image of that monster is buried in your brain. You focus on it, but the only thing that crosses your mind is its size, what it would be like to have it throbbing in your hands, pounding into you...

“Stop, stop, stop.” Lilia huffs in front of you, turning around and sitting on the armchair.

“What, what is it?” You follow her and stand by her side, she rests her forehead on her propped hand, eyes closed.

“You made it bigger.” She tells you pointedly. 

The penis really does seem magic, it hypnotizes you and you can’t take your eyes off it. Whenever you notice Lilia isn’t looking, you glance down, partially seeing the bulge covered by her dress and robe. 

Wetting your lips, you ask. “Well, what is the other way?” 

“Huh?” She’s clearly lost in thoughts. 

Moving to perch in front of her, you focus on her face. 

“You said there are two ways to get rid of it. We tried the first one, what is the second?” 

She presses her lips and you wait. 

“It needs…release.”

“Oh.” You slowly back away towards the door. “I’ll leave and you can…y’know?” You finish by making a lewd motion. 

She narrows her eyes, you stop dead in your treks. A small breeze fills the room as you linger, sensing there’s something more.

“It needs to be sheathed.” She pauses. “Climax inside something.”

You take a deep breath before asking. “Is there…Is there someone who can help you?” 

God, you didn’t know anything about her personal life. Meeting every sunday meant you’ve only seen each other about four times, and there couldn’t be a worse situation to ask her that. 

“No.” She tells you and, by the way she answers, you refrain from making any more questions. 

The morning sun shines over the room, in the distance you hear cars passing by on the street and the silence hangs as you stare at each other. 

You are embarrassed to admit, but it doesn’t take long for you to reach a decision. As much as you try to fool yourself by claiming that you wanted to help because you were the one who put her in this situation, you know it’s bullshit. Lilia has you on her hands, you’ve been attracted to her from the start and there weren't enough words to describe what she does to you. 

Watching as she looks up, praying to her goddess, you move. She brings her head down to follow you with her eyes as you kneel in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” She asks you seriously. 

“I’m helping you.” You respond, lightly placing your hands on her calves. 

Her palm rests on your cheek and you lean into it. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

“I want to do it. It's my fault you’re like this.” Seeing the hesitation in her face, you grab her wrist. “Please, let me.” 

She stares you down and gives you a tight smile. 

“I- Are you sure?” 

You nod more excitedly than you should, the eagerness accidently showing on your face. 

She doesn’t say anything else, so you take it as a ‘yes’. Her body is leaning forward, her elbows resting on the arms of the reclining chair and you feel how tense she is. The bulge is right in your face and with trembling hands you roll up her skirt. 

The gasp that leaves you is involuntary. Butchin her dress at the waist, you take a moment to look at it. It’s mostly constricted by her underwear, but you can clearly see how big it is. You take a deep breath before pulling her panties down.

You stare open mouthed. The length is as white as her skin, the head is a light pink and a few gray hairs dust her balls. It weirdly matches her and stands proudly in front of you. The hard on seems painful. 

A monster indeed.

“This looks uncomfortable.” You mumble, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“It is.” A constrained chuckle follows the statement. 

Biting your lips, you wonder how to approach this. You’ve never been a blowjob type of girl, when you used to date men you always avoided as much as you could, and even when you did it, it wasn’t enjoyable. This feels different, though. Your underwear is already wet just by thinking about it. 

Your mentor clears her throat and you peer up at her. 

“You don’t have to do this.” Her hand runs through your hair. 

“Lilia, relax.” You tell her forcefully and grab her thighs. 

One of your hands circles it and her hips buckle, palms fly back to the armchair and nails bite into the fabric as you slowly start to move. By the way it looks, it won’t take long for her to come and a feeling of disappointment dawns on you. It makes sense for a magical penis to be ready for action, but you wish you could take your time with it.

Running your thumb from the base all the way to the head, you collect the pre-cum in there before pushing it back and making the same path with your tongue. Lilia groans and you feel her tension melting a notch. You replace your fingers with your mouth, licking the bead before swallowing it whole. 

It doesn’t take a genius to notice that this thing isn’t going down your throat without choking you, so you focus on what you can do. Taking as much as you can, you make up for the rest with an unclosed fist, using just the right amount of pressure so as to not hurt her. 

Sucking tentatively, you hear a moan and look up. Lilia’s eyes are close, mouth open as her chest rises rhythmically with her anticipated breath. Her fingers are white from the grip, and you realize she’s holding herself back from grabbing your head and forcing you down. 

You groan over the cock and bob around it, your palm going to her balls and massaging them. Eyes fixated, you watch her every reaction as she stiffens under you. 

You feel your arousal beneath your own skirt, it clings to your core and you refrain from using your free hand to touch yourself, compensating by placing your heel under you and matching the movement of your hips with the one of your head. 

Taking a moment to breathe, you feel hands sweeping through your bangs. Glancing up, your eyes meet your mentor’s and you blush when she grabs your hair like a ponytail, taking it out of your face. 

“You’re doing great, doll.” Her voice is husky, you squirm against your feet. 

God, this is not helping. 

You swallow at the praise and focus on your job. Still looking into her eyes, you descend and take it as much as it goes, swirling your tongue around it and bouncing as fast as you can. She tugs your hair harder and you whine against her skin, the vibration making her tear her eyes away as she throws her head back, letting out unrestrained moans as slurping sounds leave your mouth. 

Grinding your hips against your heel, you feel yourself getting wetter by the second and curse for having to take care of it alone. Her groin starts to move in its own accord, she doesn’t even seem to notice as her crotch drives up and harder into your mouth, you swallow and swallow against her, focusing on your breath and controlling the rhythm. She isn’t forcing your head, just holding it and that’s fine, it’s hot that she doesn’t want to hurt you.

Drool starts to drip down your chin and you moan louder against her, feeling the erratic movement against your clit picking up speed alongside your head. You close your eyes and take in both sensations. After all, it isn’t everyday that you get to suck your mentor’s dick. 

You force your head back and inhale deeply, the faster the movement, the harder it is to breathe. Your hand continues the work and the other one joins in, circling her head and pressing it. 

Pushing her cock closer to her skirt, you go down to her balls, sucking one into your mouth and sooner than you expected, her whole body tightens. She lets out a loud moan and her nails sink into your scalp, you quickly try to catch her climax in your mouth before it’s too late. 

An inch away, you feel a sticky consistency gushing onto your face, landing inside your mouth all the way up to your forehead. 

You grimace and lick your lips, tasting the saltiness of her cum. 

Passing your finger over your eyelids, you sculpt most of the liquid and open them when you hear a ‘thud’ above you. Lilia banging her head against the armchair. 

“Goddammit.” Her chest rises and falls with her erratic breath, there’s a red hue on her cheeks. 

“Sorry.” You mumble.

“It’s not your fault. I should have warned you.” She looks down and shock flashes across her face. 

You must be quite an image with cum stuck in your hair and dripping down your face. She stares at you for a long time and you squirm, taking your heel out from under you before anything else happens. 

“We can try something else.” You whisper. 

“No, love. You’ve already helped more than you should. I don't want to force you a second time.” She runs her thumb over your cheek, vaguely attempting to tidy you up. 

“You didn’t force me, and I’ve told you before that I don’t mind.” Emphasizing your statement, you grab her wrist and bring her finger to your mouth, sucking, licking and moaning around it. 

Her pupils blow hide and she turns serious, following your movement as you stand up in front of her, lifting your short skirt and straddling her lap. 

She stares at you, eyes slightly wide and lips parted. The erection stands between you, a magic cock apparently only goes down once it services its purpose. Your wet underwear touches her thighs and a beat passes before you gather enough courage to lean forward. 

Grabbing her neck, you give her time to pull away. Surprising you, she grabs your wrists and pulls you forward, crashing your mouths together. Moaning, you let her tongue guide the rhythm, she makes slow movements, exploring your mouth like she wants to taste as much as she can. The kiss is languid and teasing, she takes her sweet time and you begin to rub your soaked core against her legs.

Separating, you watch as she licks her lips, looking at you like she wants to eat you alive. You brush your underwear against her cock and she groans, grabbing your waist. You’re so painfully turned on that you don’t even wait for her to say anything before you reach down and push your panties aside. 

Rubbing against the hard cock, you try coating it with as much of your wetness as you can. It’s been a while since you had anything this big inside you, if ever. It looks a lot bigger than the ones you’ve seen, your hand hadn’t closed around it before. 

It’s going to be a stretch. 

You take a deep breath before raising up on your knees, you brush the head against your entrance and Lilia’s grip hardens. Sinking down on the tip, you pause, licking your lips before continuing. You take it half way in before stopping. This shit wasn’t only wide, its length was something you had never seen before.

Noticing your struggle, the gray haired witch leans forward, attacking your neck and sliding your shirt straps down. Her hands run from your waist to your breast, her fingers pinch your nipples and you moan, feeling wetness stick to your thigh before your core swallows more of her skin. 

Slowly sitting, you feel your center stretching before your ass finally meets her balls. You halt, adjusting to the sting. Lilia’s work on your tits helps. Your spine is slightly curved as she grips your ribs and her mouth bites and sucks your chest. You feel hickeys forming in your neck and you can bet she did it on purpose, you’d have to walk around with those purple marks for about a week. 

She runs her tongue over your nipple while her hand massages your other breast. You begin to slowly grind your hips in circles motion, a vibration reverberating through your chest as she moans. 

Accepting the pain as pleasure, you lift yourself once and then lower. Your mentor stops her work and bites into your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly as she helps you with your movement. 

You’re so desperate that you can’t even tease her, after trying once, you continue, picking up speed with Lilia’s assistance. You’re both so aroused you can feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Throwing your head back, you moan without restrain, mirroring your mentor’s groans against your neck. Her arm circles your hip and she slams into you, meeting you halfway. 

Her cock is so big, you can feel it beating against your cervix and hitting all the right places as it fills you up. Her free hand goes down and finds your clit easily, rubbing in circular motions. You let out a cry and your movements become erratic, determinedly chasing your release as your walls grip her. 

She’s clearly holding back and when your movements become sloppy as your body goes rigid, she lets go. You both come together, ragged breaths mingling and sweat clinging to your foreheads. 

You feel her cum filling you up, the hot liquid doesn’t seem to stop and you kiss her once more as she spurts inside you. This time the kiss is faster, harder as you pull her hair and whine against her when she grabs your ass and accidentally rubs your clit against her skin. 

The cum starts to run down your thighs and wet the fabrics between you, her cock still throbs inside and you feel her balls shrinking in size. There’s an absurd amount of fluid and you groan against the kiss, the cum making you excited once again. 

Pulling back, you focus on the feeling of her cock decreasing inside you as it disappears, you instantly miss the feeling of fullness. 

Kissing her for a third time, you calmly run your tongue against hers as you replay all this morning's events. Thanking your magic for the mishap, your eyes widen when you remember something important. You pull back.

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you frown at her and whisper. 

“Should we have used a condom?” 

Her mouth drops open. 

[aritsukemo]

There goes my baaaabyyyy | Multiple Characters

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, and Sae Itoshi

Summary: After seeing an abundance of tiktoks about the Usher trend, you decide to try it out on your unsuspecting boyfriend after a while of not seeing him

Warnings: This is the author's attempt at being funny so crack ahead. I apologize in advance.

A/N: Idk what came over me today, but I decided to waste my time writing this anyways after getting inspired by this amazing slideshow on tiktok talking about how each Haikyuu character would react to you doing the Usher trend. This is also my first time writing for Sae ( and I also know virtually nothing about him as I've only seen season 1 of Blue Lock ) so I'm sorry if he's ooc. I just realllyyy wanted to add him as I've been thirsting over edits of him ( and Reo ) for the past day or so.

A sigh of relief escapes through the chapped lips of the soon-to-be world cup competitor Isagi Yoichi. After hard fought battles during the preliminaries and all the stress and trials that come with it, it was finally the time for Isagi to return to his safe haven. He was hesitant for a time as he was still riding the adrenaline rush and wanted to stay back and train with some of the others, but since Bachira was returning to Japan to visit his mom and celebrate with her, it reminded him that he also had someone to return home to; you.

And so, after the longest thirteen hour flight of his life, he was now walking, suitcase in hand, alongside his best friend as the two of them exited the baggage claim and was nearing the lounge where you were allegedly waiting for him.

It had been so long since he's seen you, touched you—held you.. He finds himself wondering, how much has changed? Has your laugh changed at all? Have you switched up your sense of style? Maybe your hair? Do you still taste like the honeyed, buttered pancakes you used to make him every morning? Is your smile still so wide that it creases your cheeks and makes them pudge out more? Do your eyes still gaze at him as if he was made out of gold like they used to?

As he dwells on his thoughts, the yearning for you seeps in more and more like oil filling up a tank. It's heavy and it's only when he's just about to succumb to the weight of it all that he realizes just how much he's truly missed you.

And it seems that he wasn't alone in this feeling.

As he stepped into the lounge, he's met with his first and only warning. A warning that came in the familiar tune of the audio of a certain tiktok you had sent him a week prior before you came sliding his way on your knees. Your voice raised to match the exact pitch of the audio as you sung the infamous lyrics until you came to an abrupt halt when you collided with his stomach, nearly knocking him over with the force you hit him with.

And the only thing he could fathom to do was to stare like a deer in headlights and say, "Uh...what in the world?!"

Bachira couldn't possibly hope to contain his laughter any longer after that.

After seconds of Bachira's wheezing and airless chuckles, it was only when he was beginning to grip his stomach from the pain of his amusement that Isagi finally realized what just happened. And when he did, his entire face flushed a cherry red.

"What- Why are you doing this right now of all time?" He asked, semi-shouting as he grabbed the upper part of your arms—which were wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you, baby~!" You said in a sing-songy voice. And, as you looked up at him with your eyes shining with the familiar gleam he knew just as that same trophy-awarding smile stretched across your face, he found himself faltering for a moment. His shoulders slumping as he began mumbling shyly..

"I- I.. I missed you too.. But please, get up! People are starting to give us weird looks.."

Three months. That's how long it's been since you've last seen him.

Well, that's technically not true. If you wanted to be less dramatic, you could admit that you saw your boyfriend just last week on tv doing his signature dribbling moves and if you wanted to really be frank, you had seen his gorgeous face up close just the other day when he facetimed you and informed you that he'll be home that following afternoon. You could also make it sound much less extreme by simply confessing that you had regularly spoke to Bachira throughout these three months via text and that he'd facetime you at least one a week.

But you didn't want to count any of that.

I mean, sure you got to see him, but you didn't really get to see him. You weren't able to kiss his cheek whenever they perked up and flushed pink. You couldn't run your fingers through his layered hair and watch the satisfying transition of his brown strands turn yellow between your fingertips. You weren't able to hold his chin and watch in awe and fondness as he laughed toothily like a baby kitten..

You haven't seen him, not in all his glory which, to you, was like not seeing him at all. That said, three months of that torture was unbearable.

But all of that pain was forgotten in a matter of seconds at the odd sound of drums playing in the distance.

You didn't have any time to react to—or rather, process—what was happening or prepare yourself before Bachira got a running start towards you and soon dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way up to you with the biggest smile on his face—all while Usher's voice boomed behind him from his back pocket.

You had no choice but to accept fate and allow the love of your life to crash into you and completely knock you to the ground.

As the biting cold of the airport's tiles crept up your skin and all the air was just about knocked from your lungs from unexpectedly hitting the flat surface, Bachira stared down at you from above, cheeks dusted pink which made him look like an excited little kid.

"Hey, babe! It's been so long!" He chirped before coming down to press all his weight onto you as he caged your torso with his arms, his face immediately nearing yours to press a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

If it had been any other situation that he had done this in, you'd probably be annoyed from the embarrassment of having basically half the airport staring at the two of you like you were a bunch of buffoons or, at the very least, the fact that his team was laughing up a storm in the background...but having been as starved of him as you were, all you could do was laugh while relishing in the feeling of his warmth consuming every part of your body as he leaned down again to plant a feverish kiss to your lips.

Feet tapped against the small tile floors of the elevator, thumping against the marble in a rhythm that embodied the very dread of its owner.

After months of dreading this day, Sae had, once again, stepped foot in Japan; a notion he refused to even utter aloud from just how much he despised it.

For a man with such negative opinions about his homeland, his reasons for coming back were quite frivolous in comparison. Though if asked, he lie and say that his passport expired—which wasn't wrong—but deep down he knew the real reason for his return; his partner who he was too prideful to call the love of his life.

It had took some time, and for a while, Sae was forced to come back here every other year or so in secret to visit them per their request, but at last, they had decided that so much time waiting for his semi-yearly visits were too much for their poor heart and that they were ready to take the next step and leave with him to Spain.

Sae had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, but he was more than glad—overjoyed, even—when you told him of your decision over the phone as he himself was starting to grow restless without you by his side at times.

He had already went through the process of renewing his passport so all that was left was to pick you up and drive to the airport—well, get driven to the airport—where he could finally leave this horrendous country, this time with you snuggled up by his side.

But he should've known that you wouldn't have let things be so simple.

As the doors to the elevator opened and allowed him to, at last, step foot into your lavish home, the symphony of his demise began to rang throughout it and bounce of the walls. Sae paused, face contorting into one of visible perplexment before his eyes widened at the sight of you sliding on your knees towards him, mouth opened as you sang to the beat of the music blasting throughout your home.

Your performance was short, glorious, and came to an end when your face was buried into the smooth fabric of your boyfriend's clothing and you smoothly wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's waist.

And it was only a full minute after such an amazing performance that it finally dawned on him what you were doing. And to that, he simply sighs disappointedly.

"I've changed my mind. You're not going anywhere with me," He said, and despite the blunt tone he douses his words in, it does little to your dazzling smile as you knew full well his words held little weight to them. You find yourself playing into your own bullshit anyways, though, as you begun to whine out in a high pitch you just knew he couldn't stand.

"Aww, but why? All I did was greet my pookie--" "Finish that sentence and I will actually leave you in Japan for another ten years."

You promptly shut your mouth after that, much to Sae's relief.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[yandere-sins]

Ever so often I go back to play some DoL and in my new run I got a bit more interested in our lovely school bully, so I looked them up and spoilered myself found some things out that inspired me to write about them ♥

Isn't it so cute when the bully starts to care a bit more about their victims than they should?

Characters: Male!Whitney (Degrees of Lewdity) x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con, Public Sex, Derogatory Nicknames, Creampie, Fear of Pregnancy, Humiliation, Non-Consensual Picture Taking) Bullying, Posessiveness, Mental Struggles, Threats

Sobbing, you clung to him as his cock pounded into you. Merciless and without much thought to your obvious state of distress, Whitney abused your hole, grunting as he caved it out even though you had pleaded with him not to. Not like he had ever listened to you before, but you wondered if there was ever a "too much" in his books, your hopes silently shattering as you bit back a moan from escaping.

Giggles and mean comments rained down on you from the sidelines, phone shutters going off, the sound deliberately turned on so you would hear it. The embarrassment was like a cloud of heat, cooking you from the inside out and blurring your judgment. You wanted to struggle, but every bit of movement would make your body more visible, even though you wanted to hide it away more than anything. Your legs were held apart by the ankles, giving you very little support as Whitney pushed into you recklessly, but they kept you in place enough that his cock wouldn't slip out.

All while the onlookers took videos from below.

You knew better than to make more of a fool out of yourself than you already were to these bullies. They wouldn't listen to your pleas, and your screams fell on deaf ears around the almost empty school. Although you could try fighting, who were you kidding? Whitney wasn't known to be a weakling. It wasn't the first time you had to deal with him and the humiliation, but no amount of repetition made the crime less severe.

Letting out a loud sniffle, you buried your face in his chest, his grunts breaking for one push, and you felt one of his arms snake around your back as he grew even more eager. It was no embrace that could comfort you, but at least he didn't force you to face the cameras and make your expression a public amusement and the next best blackmail material.

"Hey, Whitney! Stop hoggin' them! We all want some of the fun!" some student called out, gripping your bully by the shoulder. With surprising ferocity, Whitney twisted his body around, slapping the hand away while pulling you tighter against his body.

"Fuck off!" he hissed as the student tumbled and crashed into the tables. "Y'all can get lost, you're not getting your dicks wet today!"

His movements halted while he was occupied with the groans and shouts of his peers, needing to keep them in check as they crowded close, calling him 'unfair' and a killjoy. He bit back just as aggressively, and more embarrassment flared up inside you as people got closer.

Scared, you clung to him, fingers buried in the shirt on his back, and with your legs being released, you clasped them tightly around his hips. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and Whitney hissed, the voices of the other students briefly stopping before they rose up in laughter.

"Seems like our good pal got hitched!"

"Pussy-drunk bastard!"

"Man, this is no fun. Let's go somewhere else."

Sighs turned into small talk, into discussions about where to have dinner, until all your bullies had crowded out of the room, leaving only you and Whitney behind. It was fascinating how quickly they could change their interest, how little all of this truly meant to them while the trauma clung heavily to you.

"Urgh," Whitney groaned, leaning forward until your back hit the top of the table. "Why are you sticking so close to me? Stop being a fucking leech."

"S-Sorry..."

Within seconds, Whitney had snapped his hips back against yours, burying his cock deep inside, and you grunted in response, covering your mouth to hold back the moans.

"You're really getting on my nerves—stop that!"

Tearing your hand away, Whitney pinned it to the table, leaving you defenseless. His other hand gripped the edge of the wood, giving him the leverage to pound into you, spreading your walls far apart while messing with your insides.

"Why..." you mumbled, breathless. "Why did you stop them?"

"The fuck kinda question is that? You want them to fuck you? I can call them back if that's—"

"N-No! Please don't..."

His lips curled into a mean grin as he stared down at you, eyes moving from yours to your lips, to your breasts jiggling beneath. "You owe me now, big time," he grinned, and you felt a knot form in your stomach.

Reaching down, Whitney gripped one of your thighs, lifting it higher for better access before his pace quickened. "You're so fucking done," he grunted. "I'll make your life hell, and you'll love every second of it. That'll teach you not to question me."

"S-Sorry! I just wanted to know!"

Months of bullying had worn down your defenses, and you should have known better. But Whitney had never been one to show you any mercy before, so curiosity had gotten the better of you. And like an idiot, you had fallen into his trap again.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt another knot form in your stomach, this one much more frightening than the one before. You didn't want to come from this, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making you come. Still, every time he pushed into you, you felt closer to that edge, toes curling. At the same time, you listened to the embarrassing sound of your pussy squelching. Whitney, too, sounded close, not afraid to let out his voice as he dug inside, fulfilling his desires primarily.

In the truest sense of the word, you two crashed hard as Whitney leaned down, lips smashing into yours as both moans collided pitifully. His hips still jerked a few times, and you gasped as you felt the hot mess he spilled inside you, fearing the worst. You absolutely couldn't get pregnant by him—what kind of sick nightmare would that have been?—but even as you tried to push him away, ramming your knees into his chest, he wouldn't budge. Usually, things ended after humiliating you, but with no one around, apparently, Whitney didn't think it was necessary to sully your face or body, leaving his cum inside you without a second thought.

"N-No!" you mewled into his savage kiss, but Whitney only grinned, rocking the table until it tilted back, forcing you to wrap your legs around his and your arms around his neck to not slip off the surface and hurt yourself. Though with this, escaping was pretty much impossible, and despite your panic, your body filled up nicely with his cum, taking every spurt he gave.

"Fuckin' hell," Whitney complained when he finally released you from the kiss, setting down the table and wiping his mouth. He looked down at you with the same condescending gaze as usual, and you wondered how pitiful you must have looked in those dark eyes of his. "You need to take classes on how to kiss, you fucking suck."

"S-Sorry," you sobbed, feeling the deliberate slow pull of Whitney as he freed his cock from your pussy, popping it out after wiping it thoroughly against your walls. Giving your left thigh a slap, he let them both drop uncaringly as he stepped back, moving his cock back into his pants and underwear and zipping it up.

"Get dressed, slut," he ordered, nodding his head in the direction of your discarded panties and skirt, and you slowly got up from your position, waddling over to your clothes with shaking knees. It didn't take a moment longer than you had pulled them up when you felt Whitney's warmth at your back, his hands snaking around your body and towards the zipper of your skirt. You held your breath as you listened to the sound of him zipping you up, giving you back some line of defense now with your clothes on.

"Just so we're clear, you're not just anyone's little plaything. Those buffoons don't get to enjoy you unless I give them permission. And today..."

You looked up at him as his hand fell to your throat, squeezing it in an attention-demanding grip. Whitney's dilated pupils searched for your gaze, locking onto it with a ferocity that made your legs quiver, a small whimper escaping you as he tightened his grip around your throat threateningly.

"Today, I really didn't feel like sharing."

Lowering his mouth to yours, Whitney nipped your lower lip with his teeth, prompting yours to part so he could stick his tongue inside. For someone who claimed he didn't enjoy your amateur kissing, you two stayed like this for a while, breaths heating up between you as the intensity rose. His eyes never strayed from you, capturing them, forcing you to look at him, and making sure your thoughts wouldn't stray from what he was doing. Whitney wanted these moments to be burned into your soul, the utmost cruelty he could muster, always making you remember the things he did to you.

With his hand positioned as it was, you didn't dare challenge him to squeeze harder, allowing him to ravage your mouth, his other hand falling on top of your skirt, cramming it up to grab your asscheek hard. The sudden pain of his palm hitting your skin made you jolt, and you whimpered into the kiss, Whitney finally pulling away. You felt your underwear damping as fluids leaked from your pussy, wetness coating your inner thighs as you were reminded of Whitney's claim on you.

"Seriously, get good," he mumbled as he pushed you aside, wiping his mouth from the excess drool you two had produced. "Next time, you'll need that sucky mouth of yours."

Passing you by, he smacked your rear once more, laughing as you jumped and hit another desk's edge, more pain flashing through you. However, when you finally got a grip on yourself, you looked up to catch him still watching you from the doorframe, almost as if he was waiting to see if you were okay.

More cum mixed with your juices ran down your legs as you squatted down, picking up your bag and books the bullies had thrown around. "I don't get it," you mumbled quietly, still feeling his gaze at your back.

"Speak up if you got something to say, clown."

Shaking your head, you walked after Whitney, who only huffed at your refusal, walking five steps ahead of you as you two made your way out of school. Something about his behavior was strange, and you had difficulty pinpointing it. But where he usually didn't seem to care about you, he stuck unnecessarily close to you that day.

"Ugh! Finally!" you heard a girl yell once you two reached the school gate. You looked up to see Whitney's clique waiting for him. He split from you and walked to them while you hurriedly marched in the other direction, as far away as possible.

"What is it with them?! Do you like that slut?!" the girl asked, the insults hurled directly at you even though her question was as ridiculous as the whole bullying.

"No," Whitney firmly denied, and for some reason, it made the knot in your stomach twist. You knew that, but it made the situation almost worse.

"But they're mine, so fuck off."

"What!" the girl screeched, and you halted in your tracks, slowly turning around to look at Whitney's back. He kept walking, unbothered by his friend's reaction. The others started to cheer and mock him, but he simply kept walking, his head slowly turning around after a few more steps.

Your eyes met.

You couldn't read his lips well from the side, but his smirk and the gleam in your eyes made you assume a thousand words he could have mimed at that moment.

Only one stuck.

Mine.

[scirelistener]

POMEGRANATES

idia shroud x gn! reader

sypnosis : hades had persephone, idia has you.

It felt a tad bit ironic, if you were being honest. Staring at the carmine shine of the pomegranates given as a welcoming snack by the housewarden of Ignihyde, you couldn’t help but think of the tales of a certain King of the Underworld.

Though the sources varied on the reason why Persephone ended up in the Underworld (some daring to say Persephone was willing to go and was not abducted), it was ultimately this fruit, the pomegranate, that made her return to the dark and gloomy realm of Hades. While the Earth above froze with Demeter’s wrath, the king would reunit with his queen for a short period of 6 months.

Playing with the pomegranate seed, you wondered if Idia, himself, knew the irony of serving these. He who was leader to the very dormitory based on the King of the Underworld.

“.. The pomegranate isn’t laced with poison, y’know.” Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt as you turned to see Idia staring at you with what seemed to be puzzlement in his gaze. “Your HP is gonna be fine.”

You plopped the seed into your mouth before laying yourself down onto his bed, the softness of his blankets swallowing you whole. “I was just thinking how ironic it was that you’re serving me pomegranates.”

Idia stared at you for another moment, this time in bewilderment before realizing the myth that you were correlating the pomegranates with and turning away with a scoff. “That myth? The pomegranates in the tales are special. The ones I gave you are completely normal.” He said begrudgingly.

Noticing the tone, you flipped over to your stomach. Whilst silently admiring his fiery hair which glowed a serene blue with further help from his computer screen, you asked tentatively, “How do you feel about the tales?”

You internally winced as you watched as his fingers come to a halt as so did the clicking sounds of his keyboard and mouse. You were about to dismiss the question when the housewarden answered with a tone which you could not decipher.

“I wouldn’t go so far like he did. It’s similar to imprisonment, no? For the Queen, it must’ve felt like a player being tied to a checkpoint.” His tone resembled resentment. The glow of the computer screen gave notice to his face which scrunched up in a manner that screamed annoyance.

Then a sigh left from his lips before his fingers started clicking on his keyboard again. “But there’s no point of having my opinion on the tale. Doesn’t change the fact that the family’s still stuck with the damn curse.” Idia continued to game, this time with an expression that seemed more sullen than usual.

Sensing a change in his mood, you frowned at yourself for asking that question before your eyes trailed back to the pomegranate. As you reached for more, your mouth moved on its on,

“I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you.”

The words slipped out of your mouth too naturally for your own good. With a realization that slammed into your brain like a hammer of immense power, the pomegranate seeds slipped out of your fingers and your hand went loose; your eyes widened and your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment.

Dread plunged into your mind and painted your head white as you awaited for the housewarden’s reaction.

“…Huh?” Idia’s voice cracked in the middle of his outburst. You carefully turned your head towards him just to see the tip of his fiery hair burning a delicate shad of pink. The housewarden had a hand covering half his face while the other clutched onto his chest, his slender fingers wrinkling that iconic hoodie of his.

“I-, I meant-”

“You can’t just s-say something like that!” Idia stammered, his fingers crawling up to grip on his hair like his life depended on it. You internally winced at how tightly he was gripping it and was about to say something when he started blabbering, “What, you think you’re some sort of main character of an otome game!? Just because I feel the same, doesn’t mean you get to say those things out loud! You won’t gain any extra relationship levels with me just by saying that; all you’re giving me is a heart attack! I swear-”

As you were about to blubber out another apology in hopes of easing the poor guy’s ramble, you froze when you heard his words that indicated reciprocation.

"Wait. What do you mean you feel the same?"

“-Plus you wouldn’t even- huh?” Idia froze just like you did, eyes now back on you. Visible confusion spread over his face before his cheeks lit up a dark red. The pink that was only present near the tip of his hair now slowly unfurled into the never ending bluish fire.

Idia backed up against the chair, his body impossibly close to the backrest, as you stood up and slowly walked over to him with a giddy smile along with a blush that was a bit milder than is but still present.

Idia barely managed to muffle down his anxiety as you stopped right in front of him before leaning down.

“Idia, say that again? Please?”

How could he refuse you? You who looked down at him with eyes shining with expectation and joy of him mistakenly blabbering out his desires.

Though his hand ultimately crawled up his face once more to cover his red face, his words were head clearly.

“I-I wouldn’t mind being with you either.”

He hoped you didn’t notice how he took out a word in that sentence and how it might’ve possibly changed the meaning.

a/n : sorry for very shitty fic, i’ve been too idia-invested! also does anyone know epic the musical and has anyone listened to the vengeance saga cause sheeeeeesh the showdown between odysseus and poseidon had me shivering in my boots!!

and of course, please help those in needs by checking out the donation links on the master list post!