#this is like actually oneshot length

[montydrawsstuff]

if you're still doing one shots perhaps a silly little 'first family grocery shop' with vector and the kids?

I'll try a little one!

On mobile so sorry if formatting sucks

"Ahh crud... We really are outa' food!"

Vector let the fridge door slap closed as he turned to his audience

"You'd think opening it for the third time would get us somewhere but... waddya gonna do eh?"

The crowd had little to add to the conversation, minus a few buzzy babbles from a squirming Charmy and some mutterings of "outa food outa food" from Espio.

".. I agree, boys! Looks like we're goin to.. the Grocery Store!" He announced in a sort of dramatic tone. And the crowd went mild.

"Ugh, let's just go"

He wasn't entirely sure how successful this trip would be- while Charmy was easy enough to carry in his old leather jacket (permitting he didn't worm out of it like when he left sugar from his coffee spilt on the desk) Espio was another beast entirely.

"Okay. Listen real good kid. I need you to TRY to understand." He spoke to the little lizard as clearly as his new York accent could manage as he wrapped a squirmy Charmy in a bathtowel "Please do NOT run off, hide or look for the high ground. It's a STORE. Its gonna be BRIGHT and LOUD, but I'll be there the WHOLE time, okay?"

It took a few seconds of wide eyed staring back with big confused eyes for the lizard child to simply respond with a "Hai".

Vector begged to himself that he got through to him somehow.

The walk to their destination was somewhat painless. Tho wrangling a 10 year old was easier when Vector wasn't keeping a grip on a gooey larve, who was determined to glob his way to a sudden meeting with pavement. There was a foreboding dread that came upon him entering the store, however.

"Remember boys, we're upstanding gentlemen, out for our eggs and frozen pizza. Like we agreed on."

"Pip pio!" Charmy gurgled.

"Hahaha yea, pizza! That's right!" Vector smiled back, before his eyes met others. On top of the shelf.

"WH- Espio!! How'd ya even get up there?!?"

A store employee approached to assess the situation, but wisely bailed at the sight of a croc yelling at the canned fish.

"Cmon bro, we talked about this! We're upstanding gentlemen! Get down!"

Espio merely gestured his head to straight ahead, where a somewhat rugged looking man paced the aisle beside them. He drew his kunai ready before Vector finally reached enough to snatch him off.

Espio hissed through the tins of herrings, feeling he made his point to the threat clear.

"Ugh. Enough. Now where do ya find the 50 ring mac'n'cheese round here?" Vector continued along the aisle, but the lizard did not follow. Vector was starting to wear thin at this point.

"C'mon, bud. Stick by my side."

Espio stayed put.

"C'mon kiddo. That's enough messing around."

Espio crawled under the aisle.

Vector was on the edge of his temper.

"C'mon, Espio. Don't be a little bastard."

Espio glared over his shoulder and went in further.

"... you know what? FINE! ENJOY YA NEW HOME I GUESS! I'M LEAVIN YA HERE THEN. BYE!" He shouted and stormed off to the freezer section

Vector was caught between two pizzas before realizing.. He was holding two pizzas.

...

"CHARMY?!!"

He barreled up the store, almost knocking over a stack of soup cans and narrowly avoiding several employees. They knew better than to get in the way of a rampaging crocodile.

"CHARMY? CHARMY?! AWW CRAP! AWWW CRAP!"

"Charmy right here"

Vector froze in his tracks.

"Under fish"

Vector cast his line of sight down to see Espio holding a very dusty looking grub, who was clinging on to him rather firmly.

"You... you were just getting Charmy?" Vector felt guilt settle in his stomach "I'm sorry bud. You're a good kid.."

Espio merely cocked his head to the side and raised the sleeping bug to him.

"Pio~"

Vector chuckled. "He wants you, bud. Got yourself a little bro of your own there, huh? Yknow what, you get pick of pizza this time!"

Espio stared at Charmy a moment.

"Brat"

"Hehehe, your English is getting better..."

Maybe next time... they could just get delivery...

[a-usernamelol]

Summary:

Allan Waite, a strange student from Hogwarts, finds a group of poachers trying to break in a vault and save the rest of their company from certain death. Despite his better judgment, he decides to help.

Word Count For The Nerds: 5826 words Page Count For The Nerds: 13 Pages

The sun pounded down forcefully on the dirt and grass, which only doubled the bombardment on Allan’s skin, yet years of outdoor attention and activity had made him sturdier to the sun’s constant war, but years of hoarding clothes on his person had also kept all but his face pale. He was used to it, however, and pushed forward through the blur of heat of the ground, towards some unseen goal he wasn’t even entirely sure about himself. 

Allan kept walking forward in the grassy hills that provided little cover, passing along a cliffside edge that threatened to toss him over with one step to the right. Down there, he could see a poacher camp, set right outside a cave. Cages were stacked in rows, and in one lay the key to the entrance of the cave, a large cube with a symbol on it. They seemingly had figured out it had to do with the cave in some way- or it wouldn’t have been so heavily protected. He could see the water from here- just a ways away, past the camp which was set on another cliff. Then again, this was the coast- you could see water nearly everywhere. 

He clicked his tongue to himself, making his way to his current destination- a nearby cemetery that had long since been abandoned over the course of decades, turning and walking towards a bridge built across the river he had been following for the past day to find his way. The heels of his boots met stone, found grip, and held weight with each step forward. Thankfully the bridge was still sturdy, and he soaked in the view once more, glancing over the edge towards his right once again, watching the glittering water sparkle like a thousand gemstones in the setting sun, spreading the fire towards the beaches which served as the only divider between the two. A path slowly crept away from the sands, and up towards the bridge, dividing the cliff into two.

Everything is as it should be. He thought, satisfied with the rare quiet- too quiet, really, with a poacher camp nearby. Sure enough, his quiet was disturbed as he noticed a pair of legs sticking out from behind his view of the rocks. He moved just enough to see the full form and frowned when he recognized the mask on the face of the body.

A dead poacher? That seemed odd to him- poachers, as with any group, at least to some extent, defended each other. It was rare to see one alone- let alone dead. Creeping to the side a bit more to see past the rocks, he noticed what appeared to be another corpse- although it was hard to tell, since it was tucked closer to the cliff he had just walked away from, the shadows leaving it obscure to his vision. Curious, he deviated from his mission, and quickly jogged across the bridge, back the way he came. 

He found a spot in the rocks where he could clearly see the bodies, and soon realized there was still more he had missed due to his position before. There were, in total, four poachers, two of which were dead, both laying in a similar fashion, near what looked like white symbols Allan could not quite make out, but which looked distinctly familiar. Another sat with his legs pulled up against his chest, tucked into the cliff in a way Allan could never have seen him from his position before even if he tried. He looked like he was weeping behind the mask, shivering and hugging himself, muttering half-incoherent thoughts and words.

The last poacher was groaning loudly in pain, bashing his shoulder into a metal gate tucked into the cliff, leading to a cave. He would walk a few paces back, run forward, and slam his whole body weight into the door, before doing it again after each inevitable failure. 

Allan crouched down to watch them, curiosity eating at his heart the more he watched their clearly desperate efforts. They weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, clearly, since neither of them seemed to notice him.

“I can’t hear their screams anymore.” The poacher tucked against the cliff sniffled out, saying the first genuinely understandable thing yet. The other turned and looked at him, frowning and pausing his assault on the door, before letting out a loud, exhausted sigh and slamming his shoulder into the metal again, the bars cutting into his shirt and skin, bruising him badly enough he bled under the shirt, causing it to stick and itch. He paused again to move his shirt so that it no longer itched, and Allan bit the inside of his lip.

On one hand, poachers hunted and killed defenseless beasts. On the other, these poachers in particular were clearly desperate, and it looked like the rest of their party had been trapped in the cave. Although Allan didn’t want to help them, knowing how they had hurt others while working under Rookwood, he also felt terribly sorry for them- as they clearly were trying to rescue their team- assuming there was any team left to save.

Allan got up and climbed down the cliff, jumping down and catching himself, before hopping down again onto the dirt path with a soft thump. The frightened poacher squealed in terror when he saw him and jumped up, his wand immediately at the ready. This alerted his friend mid-slam, and he too twisted around to face him, hissing a threat.

“You! You’re that damned student! You have a lot of nerve showing your face around here.” He spat. Allan didn’t flinch, only shrugged and raised his hands in hopes to show he meant no harm.

“I’m not sure you’re in a position to say that, with what looks like a good chunk of your crew dead or missing in action.” Allan then nodded to the poacher who had yelped, and noticing how badly he was shaking, he gave a friendly smile. “Sorry for the scare.”

The poacher shivered and backed up against the wall, leaving his more sound comrade to step forward, unconvinced of Allan’s attempts at peace.

“What do you want, boy?” He growled through gritted teeth, which Allan could hear through his mask.

“I want to strike a deal. You want to go find your companions. I want to see what’s in that cave. I can unlock the door, and we can split the profits. I don’t want to fight you- put the wand away, please.” Allan explained slowly, emphasizing his words so it hopefully registered.

The poachers glanced at each other, seemingly worried for another potential bloodbath. Eventually, the both yielded, and slowly put their wands away, still studying Allan’s every move warily. Allan smiled and lowered his hands, creeping forward and fixing his gloves. He took a cocky bow, trusting them to not attack him for the few seconds he wasn’t looking at them, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you kindly. I think we should get acquainted. Allan. Allan Waite. You two?” Allan raised his arms to gesture to the poachers. The terrified one shivered and remained silent, still not trusting him enough to speak. The other, however, shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, and huffed in irritation, clearly not thrilled at being on friendly terms with their number one enemy. Still, he adjusted his shoulder blades and stood up straight.

“Vincent, if you must know.” He declared proudly, “You’re not going to attack us, then?”

“Don’t be silly. You’re helpless. I have class. I want to help you.” Allan shook his head, putting his hands in his coat pockets and blowing a lock of magenta hair out of his eyes. Vincent snorted, and although Allan couldn’t tell, he could have sworn the poacher rolled his eyes. 

“Well I’m so very glad that we’re so helpless that the great Purger of Dark Wizards feels bad for us.” Vincent crossed his arms, the defensive gesture signaling to Allan that he did not trust him, and rightfully so, in Allan’s eyes. The other poacher sunk back into his crying position and began to sob. Both Allan and Vincent turned towards him and Allan frowned, furrowing his brows in genuine sympathy. He took his wand out of its sheath and slowly walked over to the gate, Vincent watching him the entire way, wary of his every move.

“What are you doing?!” He hissed the second he saw the wand, just a little bit of fear creeping up into his voice. Allan chuckled at his reaction.

“Unlocking the door, you fool. Do you want to find your friends or not?” Allan replied, snapping in a way that left little room for argument as he cast Alohomora on the lock. He walked right by a gawking Vincent, who huffed and adjusted his cat skull mask as the door swung open with an agonizingly slow creak. Allan turned to look back at the frightened poacher and smiled.

“Stay out here and guard the entrance. If anyone but us comes up, close the door immediately.” Allan ordered. The man nodded, still visibly shivering like he was experiencing his own personal earthquake. Satisfied with the nod for an answer, Allan turned to look down into the dark pit of a hallway, lit only by a few stray torches. Vincent leaned in a little next to him, looking between Allan and the hallway. 

“…It’s open.” He said after a moment, urging Allan to move already. Allan gawked himself, and rolled his eyes.

“Well- Yes I KNOW that thank you.” He started walking forward and into the stone halls. It was clearly man made- more likely one of the many treasure vaults like around the Highlands. Still, he crept down onto the rubble, quietly trying to avoid making any noise by avoiding the pebbles- An effort immediately foiled by Vincent who tripped on a stone slab, a loud Clunk ringing through the hallway. Allan winced and froze. He didn’t want to disturb whatever lay in here- lest it decided to disturb them. He looked back at Vincent with a scowl, who gave a tiny, albeit forced, smile.

“Any idea what happened here?” Allan whispered. Vincent shook his head.

“The gate locked behind them- all we heard were the shouts of a scuffle.” Vincent shifted away from the slab, careful not to touch anything else. Allan turned back around to keep moving.

“What happened to the men outside then?” Allan hissed quietly as he put his hand on the wall, feeling its rough texture. A nearby torch, sensing movement, lit itself. Allan squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. He was surprised any torches down here still worked- although he supposed it could be magic.

“Inferi out front. Lot of ‘em. Stupidly strong for a shambling mass of bones.” Vincent replied. Allan raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“…Inferi. Inferi took out three poachers? And then what? Left?” Allan replied, clearly dumbfounded by how three fully grown adults couldn’t just Confringo a bunch of Inferi. It seemed to be a poacher’s favorite spell. Vincent shrugged.

“I don’t know… They were stronger. Something was wrong. They were like- stone statues- and if you managed to get a crack open- they glowed red.”

Allan frowned at Vincent’s description. It sounded oddly similar to a particular pyramid-shaped object he knew of. Stone that glows red. Hm. 

“Any chance they attacked at night and crumbled to ash once the sun rose…?” Allan offered, throwing it out there that he might know what those things were. Or are- if there were any more. 

Vincent stopped and gawked at Allan, who continued forward. He scrunched his eyebrows and blinked, putting one hand against a stone wall as if in thought.

“How- how do you know that?” He wondered aloud, Allan just shrugged and gestured for Vincent to come along. It would be too much a hassle to explain. To a poacher no less. He didn’t exactly “help” poachers and Ashwinders often. This one just got lucky that he was curious.

The hallway opened, each wall suddenly swallowed by a larger, darker room. Allan had to blink a couple of times for his eyes to adjust- which was promptly ruined by Vincent casting Lumos. Allan sighed as he was blinded and he reached over to his left and to bat at Vincent’s wand. Allan’s hand stopped short however as the rough shapes he had started to see in the dark suddenly became clear, and he could see the limp, lifeless forms of several poachers, strewn across the floor like ragdolls with broken or even crushed limbs. He cringed enough his left arm returned to his side. He doubted any of them had very painless deaths.

That would explain the screaming dying out… He frowned. At LEAST the Killing Curse is painless. Whatever was in here certainly didn’t give any of them that mercy. Allan felt a little drool well up in his mouth and his hand almost instinctively inch closer to his wand. The pain they must have gone through… 

Allan slammed his right hand into his coat pocket and looked at Vincent who was staring in horror, even under the mask the wide eyes were visible, glittering from the light of his wand. Allan reached out again, but hesitated and sighed.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he managed to squeak out. He was one to talk, so he knew better to say more when he had a nasty reputation for taking out poachers in the Forest. Vincent nodded and approached one of the bodies, leaning down a bit to look at it and instantly recoiling at the smell of blood.

“…It’s like. It’s like the corpse of a bird that got under a carriage’s wheel.” He concluded. But human. Allan didn’t need Vincent to say it to know what he meant. 

Allan wandered into the room as well, looking at the roots coming out of the ground from trees that must be above them. He squatted down to inspect them. The soil was soft and crumbled easily to the touch. It was fresh.

“Vincent. Stay away from the dirt. And the roots.” Allan ordered with an air of urgency. Vincent seemed to clock it was important and frowned, looking over.

“Why?” An understandable query.

“I dunno. Hunch.” Allan frowned, standing up and looking around. “I just don’t like it.”

Vincent raised a suspicious eyebrow, the mask shifting up slightly on his face, conveying to Allan his doubt. Then again, Allan didn’t need to see his face to know he probably didn’t trust him. 

“…Right.” Vincent turned to move further into the room, spotting a wall to the left with loose looking bricks. Vincent wandered over, intrigued. As he did, the bricks, enchanted as they were, shot themselves back and reformed the wall, opening into a new, smaller room. Vincent jumped and scurried back in shock, unintentionally landing his heel in the crook between the floor and the root of a plant, his own momentum forcing him backward, and he fell to the ground, snapping the root with a loud “Ack!”.

Allan immediately turned around, worried as to the condition of his companion, but failed to warn the man, as a skinny, stone hand shot out of the loose dirt and grabbed his arm with painful force. Vincent, with his arm now pulled against the ground, gasped and tried to pull away to no avail.

Allan took a step forward to help Vincent, paused as he listened to the groans of other undead assailants as they pulled their bodies out of the ground. A quick glance around confirmed the worst of his fears, as at least four other ”inferi” surrounded them from all around the room. Allan realized quickly he had little time before they overwhelmed him, and he rushed over to Vincent.

Vincent gasped at the stone arm, which now slowly revealed a whole head and body. Vincent could see the “skin” of the creature wasn’t skin- but some sort of stone cracked and groaned with every swift movement. It seemed impossible to break from. It didn’t help that Allan himself looked panicked- although Vincent gathered that made sense. He was just a kid. Even if he seemed to know what was going on- he was still JUST a kid.

“Lumos!” Allan shouted, his wand giving light. He shoved it in the inferi’s face, which seemed to make it back away with a screech of agony. Vincent broke his hand away and scrambled up. The creature was completely still now that it was in the light- like some sort of… Undead statue? Now was not the time for questions.

“That’s what was outside! Merlin’s bloody cock-“ Vincent gasped as he scrambled away, taking the hint to grab his own wand and cast Lumos.

“Language.” Allan grumbled in Vincent’s vague direction, and turned around, waving the light in the direction of the other “inferi”. His aggressive motion made them swerve away the second the light moved away from them, but his wand gave a strained flicker. It was like they themselves were soaking up the light, and perhaps the very magic of his wand. 

“Alright, wiseass. How do we kill ‘em? Fire?” Vincent hissed back, waving his wand in the direction “Inferi” that had attacked him moments earlier.

“They’re stone. You can’t kill stone- let alone what’s already dead.” Allan frowned and looked back into the hallway, where the torch was still flickering with fire. He glanced at his wand, which was starting to flicker more as its unnatural light was drained- presumably by the creatures. With every spare second the light was out, they crept closer to Allan. 

He shoved his wand in his pocket and grabbed the stone arm of one of the monsters, vaulting himself over it to get out in front of them. Vincent let out a shocked gasp as Allan sprinted to the fire, only to be grabbed a moment too soon by the coat, Allan turned around and sucked in his breath. The whole room looked like a void- with the exception of Vincent’s wand. A single arm attached to a stone body reached out, gripping onto Allan’s coat.

Allan looked at Vincent, whose wand flickered slightly, causing the poacher to smack his hand in confusion. With little more consideration, Allan ripped his coat out of the grip of his assailant. He turned around with a frustrated hiss.

“Confringo!” A sizzling, swirling giant spark of fire leapt from his wand, hitting the “inferi” that had attacked him in the face. It froze, like stone, staring at him with what was left of cold, broken eyes. He didn’t have a second to think as the flame died out, and his wand sparked, indicating to him that he wasn’t getting anything out of it with these creatures around. Vincent frowned as his own wand flickered.

“Alright, smartshoes. What now? I can see those gears turning.” 

Allan stared at Vincent for a moment before something clicked, and rammed himself into the nearest “Inferi” and knocked it over. Vincent gawked.

“Are you INSANE? Do you have a DEATH WISH?” He hissed through his teeth as Allan sprinted out of the room back into the hallway. 

“Shut it, Dad.” He grumbled sarcastically as he grabbed the torch from the wall. Vincent gasped and sprinted forward, his wand going out in the same breath. Instantly, “Inferi” were on top of him with the speed of a bullet, yanking him back away from the hallway. He shouted out as he was pulled to the floor like he was nothing more than a ragdoll.

Allan stopped on his tracks as he watched Vincent get pulled into the darkness of the room. He bit his tongue to keep himself from uttering several unholy words.

He shoved the torch in the face of the first “Inferi” he could see in the dark, which let out a horrible screech of pain, as its stone skin cracked and shattered as easily as sugar glass. With one last effort, in spite of its pain, it reached its crumbling hand out and tugged on Allan’s coat, before falling to the ground in a million pieces. Allan fixed his coat and walked into the room, filling it with the natural light of the fire.

A loud roar of howls of pain pierced Allan’s ears like a spear. Each creature still as stone, but yet crumbled to the ground in an uproar of sheer agony, reaching up as they did. Vincent gawked as the magic of his wand returned to him, the light emitting from its point, and he looked at Allan in understandable confusion and relief.

“…What…?” He gasped.

“Natural light. Lethal to them.” Allan explained carefully, “That was the difference. They’re afraid of light. Fire is natural light. Unnatural things are afraid of nature because it always wins. Like… vines overtaking a brick wall.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow. He looked the kid up and down a bit, confused by how this teenager made such a conclusion like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But- the torch was enchanted. It came on on its own.” 

Allan shook his head and started walking forward, looking around the room with the flame and wandering over to the wall that had moved just before the attack. “The stick would have been enchanted to LIGHT itself. The fire wouldn’t have been.”

He turned to look at Vincent, checking to see if he was following mentally. 

“Those things… They aren’t Inferi. They’re… like… Husks. Inferi have a little intelligence enough to talk and move. Those things? No. They just attack anything alive that comes near, like a golem.” Vincent said in a half panicked daze as he scrambled to his feet, dusting off the shards of stone. He felt vomit rise up in his throat when he realized that “stone” was now millions of pieces of dead bodies.

Allan laughed, and shook his head. “Oh no no no. They’re intelligent all right. Did you think it’s a spell that they only moved in the dark? No no, it’s a HUNTING tactic.” Allan smirked to himself as Vincent looked at him with horror.

“You mean… Those things… Could have… moved at any moment?” Vincent looked at the dust and shards on the ground and backed up slightly, immediately stumbling over a dead comrade, now coated in dust. He cursed loudly and looked at Allan with a new fire in his eyes, suddenly raising his wand in the boy’s face.

“Who ARE you?!” Vincent hissed angrily, as if all this was Allan’s fault.

Allan narrowed his eyes and frowned, tilting his head.

“Allan Waite. Feel free to tell your superiors that I saved your life. See how happy they’ll be then.” Allan walked towards the center of the room with a coy smirk. 

“We had a deal.” Allan tutted as he walked. Vincent’s hand quivered as he held up the wand, realizing that Allan was entirely unafraid- perhaps amused- about his threats. He pressed his lips together and put his wand in his pocket. 

“You’re a strange kid.” He decided aloud, causing Allan to snicker profusely. Allan wandered over to where Vincent first fell. 

“You’re clumsy.” He pointed out. Vincent frowned as Allan pointed out the very obvious fact. Allan moved silent as the dead of night, so of course Vincent was clumsy by his standards. 

“…Hm.” Vincent shook his head, not gracing the kid with an answer. He walked over, following Allan as he started to walk closer, the bricks moving and shifting, revealing a small closet-sized room, as dilapidated as the rest of the place. Inside was a small chest, about as big as a large suitcase. Allan narrowed his eyes and looked back at Vincent, putting a foot on the top of the chest before smirking. 

“THIS is what you fell over?” Allan chuckled. Vincent rolled his eyes at Allan’s mockery. Allan shook his head and took his foot off the chest, squatting down on the floor, and started opening it. Vincent grabbed Allan and pulled him away from it, the lid snapping shut with a loud clank. 

“What if it’s booby-trapped?” Vincent hissed. Allan rolled his eyes and brushed off his shoulders.

“Oh please. I doubt anyone who built this expected ANYONE to get past those creepy crawlies. Most don’t even know reinforced Inferi exist, let ALONE how to stop them.” Allan leaned down and lifted the chest lid anyway, causing Vincent to step back as if something would jump out.

Allan snickered as Vincent reacted, and looked down to spy their fortune. Inside was nothing but a light purple scarf, eaten partially by moths and maggots. Allan scrunched up his nose, picking up the scarf and holding it away from him like it was diseased. “...Well. This will give you lice and other pests for sure…” He said, Vincent, replying with a face similar to Allan’s own.

“...Lovely. All this, for virtually nothing. For Merlin’s sake, we can’t even split it!” Vincent huffed, before being met with the scarf being tossed at his chest. Instinctually, he reached up to catch it, immediately fumbling and nearly dropping it. “Nah. You can keep it. I’ve seen what I wanted to see. At least you’ll have something to show for your efforts.” Allan shrugged and turned to walk back into the room and from there the hallway. Vincent turned the cloth over in his hands and huffed before it registered that Allan was walking away and he whipped around to follow him, scampering behind as they crawled back into the light. “Now hold on just a minute! What am I going to tell my superiors? What am I gonna tell others?” Vincent declared worriedly as he scrambled back to Allan’s side. Allan just shrugged and tilted his head.

“What do you WANT to say?” Allan countered, turning around and raising his eyebrows curiously. There was, as there had always been, a glitter- or perhaps a shine, in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Vincent sighed and leaned back against a nearby wall. He took a moment to stare at the overgrown ceiling, before frowning and looking over at Allan.

“We should get out of this place.” He observed, not wanting to get attacked by more stone monstrosities. Allan chuckled and nodded, clapping Vincent on the shoulder as he walked by.

“Fair enough.” Allan walked down the thin hall and put the torch back on its mount, waving Vincent over. Vincent didn’t hesitate to scurry out of the dark towards Allan, clambering through the loose rubble on the ground to get away from the pit of darkness. Once they got to the gate, Vincent shoved past Allan to scramble out, running over to his partner.

Allan frowned, looking at the partner at hand, who had sat with his legs pulled against his chest against the same cliff face the vault had been carved into. He walked over and dug through his coat pockets, which were endless by design, to pull out a worn glass bottle that had a piece of cork shoved in the top to keep the precious liquid in. He held it out to the poacher gingerly.

“Hey. Drink this. No one thinks straight when dehydrated.” Allan furrowed his brows and pressed his lips together. Despite the terrified man being his enemy, he still felt… Well. Pity. They were only following orders after all, that didn’t make them the villains, just the tools. 

The frightened man snatched up the bottle, practically drinking the whole thing in one shot, before coughing.

“Water.” He observed roughly. Vincent seemed to raise an eyebrow at this, frowning. 

“Are you…” Vincent trailed off a bit, thinking before speaking. “Are you alright?” Vincent glanced at Allan for a moment, while the poacher nodded slightly, coughing again. Allan stood up, so Vincent followed. He looked at the curled up comrade with clear worry, before opening his mouth to speak to Allan, only to be cut off.

“Get that man a good meal and some safety. No one comes out the survivor of a slaughter, a survivor of mind. Not completely. Give him some time, and some compassion. You both just watched your whole team die in front of you.” Allan gestured to the man and then Vincent, giving a soft, kind smile. 

“That goes for you too.” Vincent gawked at Allan’s words and then back, before taking off his mask for air, sighing like a seal coming up for air. 

“I’ll take him back. To camp, I mean. Make sure he’s treated right. I’ll have a report to get to.” Vincent gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was face his section’s leader. Allan clicked his tongue idly. 

“Best get to it then, bud.” Allan did a sort of childish half salute and turned to walk away, but Vincent grabbed him by the shoulder with a calloused hand. Allan flinched from the grip.

“What about you? Where will you go?” Vincent bit the inside of his lip, pausing for his own thoughts again, as seemed to be a habit of his, before frowning. 

“Do you have… Anywhere to go?” Vincent finished, as if a creeping hunch had told him. Allan frowned. Maybe his demeanor had given it away. Allan had to pause and think for himself, unsure if he should give a poacher his location.

“I go wherever the birds go.” Allan decided finally, pulling out of the grip of the older man. The look on Vincent’s face gave away that his answer was unsatisfactory for the poacher, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and turned back to his partner, helping him up. Vincent shot Allan one last look of concern, before wandering up the hill between the nearby cliffs.

Allan watched them go with interest, letting them leave his sight before turning away himself. Vincent helped hold up his comrade the entire way up, knowing that he wasn’t in the right state of mind to lead himself back in one piece. 

Vincent practically had to pull the other man uphill by his shoulders, slowly making their way to their camp of origin to rest. By now, the sun was dipping below the horizon and it would be dusk by the time they would even see the lights. Vincent sighed gratefully when the orange stars popped out over the ground to greet them. Then, he noticed a silhouette he recognized, a woman in a coat and a tophat and let out a groan while he was still out of earshot. 

When the two men got close enough to see her better, he recognized the red hue of the coat and hat, as if they matched the fiery red of her constant anger. He tried to smile, but he was pretty sure his distaste snuck its way through his muscles to give his true thoughts away.

“Evening, Alicia.” He brought them both up to her and she scowled.

“Where’s the rest of your men?” She flatly replied, not even bothering to ask what happened to his companion. 

“They're dead. Inferi caught us off guard.” Alicia looked like she was going to lay into him so he quickly cut her off. 

“With all due respect, this man needs medical attention, stat.” Vincent gestured to the man beside him who seemed to choke on air and cough. Alicia raised an eyebrow and frowned, as she seemed to do constantly, and nodded, she turned to walk towards the fire to address a woman eating there.

“Get Marco. We have a man down.” Alicia said with just enough priority to get the poacher to drop her food and scramble up, rushing off into a tent, only to come back with another man only a few minutes later to take the weight off Vincent’s shoulder. 

He watched them all go, and rolled his shoulder where the other poacher had been holding onto him. He felt a pop and he grumbled in displeasure. Alicia seemed to glare at him at the mere sound, like a hawk on its prey, and he forced a smile, although still a little sore.

“Report.” She roughly growled, her eyes burning through him for answers. Vincent sighed.

“What do you want me to say? We were ambushed by some sort of magically reinforced Inferi.  Everyone but me and him perished. All we found in that damn vault was a moth eaten scarf.” Vincent signed and held up the scarf, pilling it out of his pants pocket and sighing

Alicia frowned and narrowed her eyes, as if she didn’t believe him. She probably didn’t, and Vincent knew that.

“And how did you two escape unscathed?” 

Vincent frowned and looked away from her prying eyes, glancing down the hill. He relaxed his shoulders as he basked in the view of the moonlite grass, swaying in the breeze like soft water. He saw something move and squinted, focusing his gaze under a tree where a nearly imperceptible shadow stood, so still it took him a second to register it was a person watching them from afar.

Allan. It had to be. He had to have followed them. But how? Vincent was trained to notice when people were following him, and the only things he had noticed on their journey was the spiders and occasional mongrel or wolf. He turned and looked back at Alicia, who he guessed hadn’t noticed him yet and smiled.

“I’m sorry ma’am. But that really is all there is to the story. We were defeated by mere Inferi, ma’am.” Vincent smiled under his mask as Alicia raised an eyebrow and frowned at him. After a moment she rubbed the bridge of her nose, annoyed.

“Your team must have had the brains of mooncalves, then.” She huffed and turned away, “Go sleep. We’re moving out for the forest at dawn.”

Vincent smirked and turned to look at the silhouette in the distance once more, who seemed to be creeping away from the scene, only stopping when seeing he was being directly looked at.

Vincent reached up and took off his mask, letting it hang by the strap in his hand as he pulled off the cloth over his head for air, revealing his unruly ash hair and eyes, matched by the light wrinkles of a man seen by time but not yet weakened by its flow. He gave the boy a light salute, too tired to give it proper form, keeping it for only for a moment.

He wasn’t sure how to thank him, but he’d seen people scarred by war before, and he trusted his gut. He would see this stranger again, somewhere, sometime. He knew it.

The shadow paused for a moment, before running away into the shadows, back in whatever path he had been on before the two met. Vincent watched for a moment, before, satisfied with his observations, turned towards his camp for some well deserved sleep.

END OF EXPEDITION 01

[nostalgia-tblr]

Reminding myself that I resolved not to delete any fics that have a bookmark on them😭

[kingdomoftyto]

So I had a new idea for one of those too-ambitious-to-ever-actually-write fics.

I had the thought today that Simon is the only really good father figure in the entire series. Even Jake, who tries his best, kind of sucks at being a dad, and it's only because the pups are so self-sufficient that they all turn out okay. Likewise, the writing is, imo, too forgiving to Joshua for some of the tough love crap he pulled on Finn. Obviously he's nowhere near as bad a father as Martin or Hunson, but the bar is so low it's on the ground.

So it's a shame Simon, who obviously very much wants to be a dad, and who has proven to be pretty good at it even if he's made his own share of mistakes, only returns to sanity when Finn is practically an adult. They're good friends, but the window was basically already closed on him being any kind of significant parental influence in Finn's life.

Then I thought, wait. There's no rules in fanfic. I can imagine whatever what-if scenario I want!!!!!

AU where Simon is Finn's adopted dad:

In this AU, Simon is cured (or perhaps only partially cured?) not long before Finn arrives in Ooo. The HOW may or may not be relevant to the story, but he's back to himself or at least as sane as he was when he was traveling with little Marcy.

When Margaret and Joshua find baby Finn, they do a bit of investigating and find out that there's another human who lives nearby, and they go to confront him in case he was the one who abandoned the baby. Simon is of course stricken at the accusation, but the misunderstanding is cleared up and, of course, eventually it's decided that he'll take care of Finn. (I picture the dogs being reluctant to part with him at first, but then Simon overhears that they're demon hunters and is like OH ACTUALLY I'D BE GLAD TO TAKE HIM IN, IN FACT I INSIST! I HAVE A LOVELY--and safe!--HOME HAHA... MAYBE YOU AND THE TWINS CAN VISIT HIM SOMETIMES THOUGH. WON'T THAT BE NICE)

Anyway I don't know exactly where it'd go from there but there's so much you could do with this AU

Obviously Finn and Jake are still best friends even though they're not actual brothers, because they're, like, literally canonically soulmates. And being around the dog family would be more than enough for Finn to pick up his same old reckless adventurer tendencies as before, despite Simon's best efforts to keep him out of trouble. This would be one of the biggest sources of conflict between them.

Marceline would of course be Finn's cool older sister figure. Getting Simon back early would have some serious effects on Marcy's character development, though exactly how that would play out would probably depend on the circumstances of his cure (and also how involved Bonnie is in the whole situation).

(I have a scene in my head where a really young Finn asks Simon why Marcy calls him by name instead of "Dad", and Simon needs to take a Moment to process the ensuing emotions.)

Maybe the fic could explore right after Finn is adopted, when Simon and the dogs are still trying to figure out where he came from. (They all become friends in the process, which facilitates more playdates for their kids later on.) Considering Finn appeared to be abandoned, the dogs would be fairly happy to move on and let his presumably awful birth parents just get bent and rot. Simon, although surprised other humans still exist somewhere, can't deny he feels similarly. But, the bear hat sparks something in Simon's memory, and when he brings it up to Marceline she remembers the ship she'd saved all those years ago. They make the connection and realize humans must have settled somewhere across the sea. Depending on what kind of fic you want it to be, they may or may not act on this epiphany right away.

Even if they save the islands for later, I think Simon--an anthropologist at heart--would recognize the importance of keeping something as culturally important as Finn's hat, if only to remind him of his heritage later. But even if he stored it somewhere, little toddler Finn would repeatedly dig it out of the closet and insist on wearing it, until Simon acquiesced that it was just going to be Finn's thing. Like Hambo and a security blanket all wrapped in one. With another human around to model himself on, though, I think Finn would eventually stop wearing it as an actual hat all the time and instead maybe just drape it over his shoulders like a hood or capelet.

I imagine Simon would insist on some sort of homeschooling for Finn, at least part of the time, because I just can't picture Candy Kingdom schools being up to his standards, let alone anywhere else in Ooo, lmao. Plus this way he'd be able to teach Finn about human history and culture without worrying about the truth getting mixed up or lost to time. For the most part, though, Finn would haaaaate formal education, which Simon would find baffling, as a lifelong nerd academic who surrounded himself with fellow nerds academics.

So yeah, as Finn grows and it becomes clear he's not cut out for academia like his old man, Simon has to accept that the world they live in is not the same as the one he was raised in himself, and that it might actually be prudent for Finn to learn to use a sword, if only to protect himself. He reluctantly eases up on the curfews and restrictions and gradually allows Finn more freedom to go on adventures with Jake, though he's a nervous wreck every time.

(Maybe Finn convinces him to come along sometimes to prove that it's safe, and Simon actually develops some dungeoneering skills too, in this AU? 👀 As a bonus, we get more scenes like that "I was quite the outdoorsman in my day!" moment in F&C where Simon gets to show off that he WAS a little bit of an adventurer back before the War. Optionally add Marceline on these adventures, too!)

As for The Betty Situation, it could range from "she simply died a thousand years ago and Simon has no choice but to grieve and move on for his new family's sake" to "the way he's cured in this AU plays out similarly to the episode 'Betty' except something goes wrong and now she's on Mars/trapped in a time bubble/whatever and Simon has been lowkey desperately searching for her in all his spare time when not actively taking care of Finn."

.........God.

I WISH I had the discipline to write this into a proper fic. I WISH I wasn't so chronically indecisive and that I could at least pick a direction for it to go in, lmAO. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day today, ugh, I had to at least toss it out into the ether and share the concept. Please feel free to steal any or all of it and also to send me asks rambling about this show and these characters please god I'm going to lose my mind before the finale on Thursday

[tenacious-minds]

I’m having a lot of very complicated and difficult to explain feelings about jegulus rn.

[grassbreads]

I finished the draft of my professor Xi Ping Tai Sui fic, and it is. over 8k.

[lilac-melody]

So what if, and bear with me here, what if I made a fic...an actual novel-sized fic, ft Prince Aizou and Entertainer Yujiro?

Like a prince and jester kind of thing.

Am I basing this off of the fact I’m still not over that that one director wanted Aizou to play the role of royalty while Yujiro plays as his lover- a courtesan? Yes. Yes I am.

It would be sometime after my current multichapter fic, obviously, but what say you, fandom?

[hrefna-the-raven]

Stay with me?

Masterlist - Horror masterlist - Misc.

Art the Clown x female reader

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: As his eyes fell upon your slouched figure on the red bench, rolling your eyes in boredom at whatever your friend was prattling on about, Art realised he had either made a grave mistake or stumbled upon something incredibly right.

Notes: don't worry, the toilet seat is closed, no Art "art" in this oneshot 😂

Reader: female reader, female genitals, no pronouns except you

Art continued to blink in disbelief, his body frozen mid-movement. This was not the usual scenario he found himself in, and his mind struggled to grasp the reality of being pinned down on the toilet seat of the small pizza place, with you straddling him.

It was always the same, he'd pick a girl, or two, obviously flirt with her, she'd be crept out, run, scream and then he'd butcher her, slowly, make a funny spectacle out of it and call it a day. The perfect plan for an evening's twisted entertainment. But tonight was different. As his eyes fell upon your slouched figure on the red bench, rolling your eyes in boredom at whatever your friend was prattling on about, Art realised he had either made a grave mistake or stumbled upon something incredibly right. In that very moment, when your gaze met his for the first time, an inexplicable and unfamiliar pressure gripped his chest—a warning and an irresistible urge all at once. Before he knew what happened, his body found its way to the seat on the opposite side of you and your friends. He rested his elbows on the table, placing his chin in his folded hands, while a wide smile adorned his black painted lips, revealing his decaying teeth. Little did Art know that the first flutter of butterflies had already emerged within you when you spotted him outside the quaint restaurant. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been this genuine surprise that washed over his twisted mind when he spotted your charming smile directed at him. His hands fumbled on the tiny ring on your finger, as if they couldn't believe you had actually accepted it and that, in return, you gifted him a tight warm hug.

Art's head fell back against the cold tiles, his mouth gaping in a silent moan, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling when you sunk down on him. The way your wet cunt swallowed him completely, your greedy walls clenching around his throbbing length, it would classify perfectly under "exquisitely divine" or at least whatever someone as rotten as Art might deem as such. He was a creature of many pleasures, ranging from the bloodiest to the most macabre. However, this was novel to him, prompting his mind to consider adding this sensual discovery to his usual repertoire of amusements. His gloved hands shifted to your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh, guiding your movements and urging you to quicken the pace. Art took a deep quivering breath, teetering on the precipice of that sweet release that beckoned him to surrender but instead he tried to focus on his surroundings. The soft fabric of his costume pulled around his feet brushing against his skin with each movement, the hum of the flickering light above casting dancing shadows upon the cabin walls around the two of you while the luscious melody of your moans cradled his rotten heart.

Fingertips gently grasped his chin, guiding his head downwards to meet your gaze once more. Sinful delight danced across your face as you whispered his name in a seductive murmur. A fierce fire blazed in your eyes as they locked with his and he suddenly felt like burning away underneath your gentle touch. Art's body tensed for a moment before finally tumbling into the abyss of the pleasure you had unveiled before him. Countless images flooded his mind, filling every crevice of his thoughts as he came undone. You followed soon after, your lips crashing on his in a passionate kiss. As you pulled away, a blissful expression adorned the beauty of your face and your hazy eyes stared into his distorted soul, a firework exploded throughout Art's entire body. The others in the restaurant felt as far as the faint murmurs behind that closed door and in this moment, only you existed. You became the new center of his universe, his beloved muse whose every touch and sound granted him visions of a world painted in blood. He had to keep you, all to himself and, somehow, it felt only natural to him, as if this decision had been engraved in stone since the beginnings of Hell. Art tilted his head slightly, observing with curiosity as you climbed off him and cleaned both of you up. You took an exaggerated bow and held your hand out with a mischievous grin as if you invited him to take it and stand up. He gladly accepted, lifting himself up and kissing the back of your hand with a wide smile before pulling up his costume. He mimicked a sigh, shaking his head while a genuine happy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It became undeniable how it delighted him that you had chosen to join in the pantomime from the moment you realised he wouldn't communicate in any other way. The gleeful joy and that hint of a mischievous sparkle in your eyes proved that you were more than willing to play his fun little games with him.

Art led you to the mirror, exhaling onto it before he hastily scribbled something in the mist on its surface.

Will you come and stay with me? 🤍

You nodded and chuckled, playfully tapping his shoulder.

"Did you really believe I'd let someone as delicious as you leave again?"

He feigned a thoughtful expression before shaking his head. His fingers entwined with yours and he guided you out. Both of you walked past your friend, out of the pizza place, disappearing into the dark of the night.

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊

[moonlightndaydreams]

Little Deaths | a ghostly ot8 story

MDNI 🔞 this is an adult story!!!

La petite mort. ‘the little death' is an expression that refers to a brief loss or weakening of consciousness, and in modern usage refers specifically to a post-orgasm sensation as likened to death.

fem!reader x ghost!Skz

Your driver abandons you at a creepy mansion that turns out to be haunted by 8 cursed, horny ghosts. Their mission is your pleasure.

Word count: 6.8k

Content Warning below

CW: ot8 are ghosts, drugging/intoxication of reader, seduction?coercion?, sexual acts with ghosts, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m & f), vaginal and anal penetration, blow jobs, double pen in 2 holes, double pen one hole, restraints, rough sex, spitting, it's basically a gangbang, sub reader, there is a part where a cock alternates between readers vagina and anus - this is not recommended irl, choking, name calling, pet names. The sexual acts in this story are not meant to reflect how things work irl.

a/n: this story isn't a love story, like I often write here on this blog. It's basically self indulgent ot8 porn. It's my first oneshot that features all 8 members fully, and it was actually so hard to write. I considered posting this story on my side blog @daydreams-after-dark where I write my unhinged shit, but it took so much energy and thought, that I wanted to keep it over here with my other oneshots of similar length.

I hope you enjoy this oneshot. If you do, please let me know your favourite part, and consider a reblog. x. Sorsha.

“Ma’m, I think we need to stop the car, this weather is just making it too hard to see.” your driver called over his shoulder. The rain outside was falling harder than ever, and with it being the dead of night, and on a windy deserted road, you knew he was right. It wasn’t safe.

“But where on earth do we stop?” You replied, trying to see out of the window.

“I think I’ve taken a wrong turn.” He said in a shaky voice. “But… I think I’ve found somewhere we can pull over.”

You leaned around to look between the two front seats of the car, and could just make out the shape of a mansion ahead of you. Your driver pulled the car to a stop in front of the dwelling. “Should we go knock on the door?” You wondered, but your driver was getting out of the car and pulled out your suitcase.

“I think so. I could barely see the road.” He insisted.

You let out a big sigh and climbed out of the car. From what you could tell, the mansion was enormous, and very old. 

Stepping up to the front door you saw there was no doorbell. Just a big brass knocker. “You know,” you turn to your driver who plonked down your suitcase beside your feet. “This feels a lot like that Backstreet Boys music video. The one with a haunted mansion.” You gripped the knocker in your hand and knocked three times and waited. “You know, Backstreets Bac-“ You turned to your driver but he was running back to the car, jumping back in and driving away. The fucker! 

“Hey!” You yelled after him, but he was gone.

The big front door creaked open, capturing your attention. A young man with fluffy long blonde hair peeked his head around the door.

“Oh my goodness!” You wailed. “I…it was raining…and…well…my driver…he’s just left me here.”

The young man looked at you curiously. “Come in out of the cold.” He smiled warmly. He immediately put you at ease.

“My name’s Felix.” He said picking up your suitcase.

“Y/n.” You replied following him into the mansion. It was quite dark, but you could make out that you were in a large entry hall, with a grand staircase in the centre.

“You will need to stay the night.” he stated. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“Stay the night?” You turned to him. “But I just need to make a phone call, have someone come collect me.”

Felix shook his head. We haven’t any mobile reception, and the landline is down. Due to the storm.”

You frowned.

“Plus,” he began as he started up the stairs. “No one should be driving in this weather.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. He was right. You followed Felix up the winding staircase and along a dimly lit hall. The place was creepy. It felt deserted and cold. Such a contrast from the man leading you to your room. Felix seemed so warm, like sunshine. Why would someone like him live here?

“Here we are.” He opened a door at the end of the hall. “You will be staying here. I’ll bring you up some supper and a cup of hot…chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate.” he rambled. “Please-” he gestured for you to enter the room and placed your suitcase on the floor beside you.

“Feli-?” you turned to the blond man, but he was gone. Weird. “Felix?” you called and popped your head back out into the hallway. But he had completely disappeared. Vanished into thin air.

Despite the cold emptiness of the mansion, your room was stunning. Even if it did look like it came out of a haunted house movie. It had Victorian gothic themed decor, with a huge bed that had four thick posts, and the bedhead itself was a feature piece. It came almost up to the high ceiling. Dim lamps around the walls illuminated the room. The entire space was grand and of another time.

“I suppose I could spend the night here.” you patted the bed. The bedding seemed freshly cleaned, and you noticed there was no dust on anything. It was like whoever lived here was expecting a guest. Was Felix the only one here? You wondered as you opened your suitcase and pulled out your silk nightie. 

Your sleepwear seemed far too vulnerable and sexy for such a room and as you climbed into the giant bed, you had thoughts of some beast coming and ruining you in your sleep. Maybe you’d need to stay awake just to be safe?

Knock knock. 

You pulled your knees to your chest, and your heart began to pound. Someone’s come to rape you and murder you. Your mind had really spiraled over the past ten minutes.

“Y/n? It’s Felix. I’ve brought you some food and a a-drink.”

You scampered over to the door. “Fel-” you started. But again no one was there. How was he so quick?

On the floor at your feet was a tray with a slice of cake and a big mug of hot chocolate. You took the tray back to your bed. You were hungrier than you thought, practically inhaling the cake within a minute.

You turned your attention to the hot drink, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. It was delicious. Rich, creamy, with a hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. You took another sip, allowing the warmth to wash over you. By the time you had drunk the last of it, you were feeling floaty and fuzzy, almost like you were drunk. 

All thoughts about your safety left you as you snuggled down and fell asleep.

Your core ached as you felt your body buzz and swirl. Sensations of cool hands all over your body, caressing your legs, and your breasts, making you moan. More. You needed more. Whatever this was, you had to have more or you’d die. Your body felt hot, like it was on fire, and you needed the relief of the coolness that was caressing you. 

The sensation moved up your inner thigh, while elsewhere on your body it wrapped around your neck. More across your stomach and breasts. It reached the top of your inner thigh and, ‘oh god yes, touch me there’, slipped inside of you. You felt like you were writhing on the bed, back arching off the mattress. But then it seemed you couldn’t move at all. It was like you were being held down. You tried to cry out, the pleasure becoming unbearable, but your mouth was filled with the same coldness that was inside your pussy. Again, your body cried ‘More’. You needed more. The cool sensation then filled you deeper and deeper and stretched you open, fuller, wider than ever before. Your throat felt full too, and you were certain you were going to choke. Your dreamy vision blurred further until you were seeing white, and the tension in your body reached breaking point. A surge of cold energy filled you and your core burst with a relief like you’d never experienced in your entire life. Your walls squeezed and pulsed around the coldness inside of you.

Your eyes flung open. Your chest was heaving. Your body was hot. Your cunt still fluttering. Fuck. That was some dream. You ran your hands over your body, down between your legs. Your panties! They were gone. You sat up abruptly, your eyes darting around to locate your missing underwear. There they were, at the far corner of the bed. Torn. What the actual fuck?

“You did that to yourself, you know.” a voice said from the corner of the room.

“Huh?” your eyes shot to a man sitting in the shadows in the corner. 

“We didn’t touch you.” he added.

You were confused. “We?” you arched an eyebrow, trying to calm your racing heart.

The man disappeared, startling you, then reappeared sitting on the edge of the mattress.

You pulled your knees into your chest. “How the fuck did you do that? Who are you? What are you? How’d you just do that?” you cried shrilly.

The man smiled, his dimpled cheeks and kind eyes making him appear non-threatening. But that didn’t mean he wasn't a psycho killer. A magic psycho killer.

“Here, have another hot chocolate.” he passed you a mug.

The hot chocolate. You scowled at the man. “You drugged me!” you hissed.

The man shrugged. “It’s an ancient remedy. We needed to know if you were compatible with us.”

“Compatible? Compatible for what? What do you mean, ‘us’? You and Felix? What does this drink do?”

“Shh..babygirl. It’s okay.” he hushed you. “The drink merely relaxes you and unlocks what you crave most. I promise it wears off within twelve hours. The drink you had earlier was only one eighth the strength of this one here.” he pointed to the drink in your hands.

You brought the drink to your nose and inhaled. It smelled irresistible, and you resisted the strong compulsion to drink it down. “But why do you want me to drink more? Couldn’t you tell if I was compatible or not from…” 

“You are compatible. It was clear the moment you called for us.” He said simply.

Your eyes widened. “Called for you? But I don’t even know you.” you whispered.

“The coldness you felt.” he leaned closer. “On your body. Inside your body. That was us. You could feel us even though we hadn’t touched you.”

You held your breath.

“We could feel you too. We could feel your desire. Your warmth. You aliveness. Your tightness. It wrapped around us.”  he whispered.

You whimpered. He, they, could feel you? You bit your lip. “So why drink more?” you arched an eyebrow. “If you know I’m compatible with…whatever this is.”

“Because what I’m about to tell you might be,” he sucked in a breath. “Overwhelming.”

You locked eyes with this stranger and carefully took a big gulp of the hot chocolate. You immediately felt a sense of warmth flow through your body and pooling in your core.

“You see, y/n, we’re ghosts.”

You just stared at him. “What?” you laughed. “Just ‘cos you did some magic disappear-reappear thing before, I don’t believe in-” 

The man in front of you turned translucent. Fuck. Your mouth fell open. You could still see him, but his colours were muted, and he wasn’t….solid.

“You’re a fucking ghost?” you choked. This wasn’t happening. Surely the drink has some kind of hallucinogen?

“Y/n, allow me to introduce you to my brothers.” he gestured for you to look around the room. Gradually, seven young, translucent, men emerged from the shadows. 

“Holy shit!” you whispered and swallowed hard.

“My name is Chan.” the dimpled mad said. “And here we have Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung.” he pointed to three of the men who waved at you. ‘And over there we have Suengmin, Jeongin, Minho, and you’ve already met Felix.”

“Sorry I drugged you.” Felix blushed and lowered his gaze.

“May we come sit on the bed?” the one named Hyunjin asked. “We won’t touch you unless you ask.” he added.

Why did that something to your insides?

You nodded and the ghost men gathered around and hopped on the bed. That’s when you noticed they were all quite young and very handsome. And they were all wearing the same thing. A gold and black silk bathrobe.

The words of Chan resounded in your head. “You called to us”,  “We could feel your desire. Your warmth. You aliveness. Your tightness.” 

You pulled the blanket up higher and stared at your drink, considering whether or not to drink more if it was going to help you relax.

“W-what did you do when I called to you?” you asked in a small voice.

“We came straight away.” Another man said. Seungmin, you think.

“We watched you, kitten.” Minho smirked.

“You were so receptive.” Changbin added.

“Your body begged us to fill you, squeeze you. Fuck you.” Hyunjin said silkily.

“But you didn’t… touch me, right?” 

“No, babygirl. Like I said, your body showed us what you craved most. We didn’t touch you. I promise. But we could feel you.”

“But why do I crave you?” you were confused as to how this could even be happening.

“We think it’s part of the curse.” The chubby cheeked boy, Jisung, said. “Every so often a woman will stumble upon our mansion. We give them a drink,” he nodded to the cup in your hand, “to see if they’re compatible. Sometimes they just sleep soundly.”

“Those ones aren’t compatible.” Seungmin chimes in.

“And some, like you, are receptive.” Jisung continued.

“Compatible.” Added Minho.

You looked around the room. So you craved these… ghosts? Sexually? Was this a trick? You thought about your dream and how incredible it felt to be consumed by whatever it was that was touching you. Would it feel like that?

“What happens when you find a compatible woman?” You were almost afraid to ask.

“We have to pleasure her.” Chan said flatly.

Your eyes flicked to his.

“And what happens if you don’t?”

“We get tortured.”

Your eyes widen. “Tortured? Why? By who?”

“I think we need to tell her the whole story.” Said Jeongin.

Chan rubbed his chin. “Hmm, you’re right.” He took a moment before he spoke.

“Y/n. When we were alive we were… a harem. Or reverse harem, I suppose. We had our Mistress whom we served… sexually. She wasn’t right, in the head. She went mad. She didn’t want us to age, to get older. So she hired a witch who was meant to concoct a spell that would keep us young for eternity. The spell was not only to keep us youthful either, but also bind us,” he looked around at the other men. “To be sex slaves forever.” 

“But it went wrong.” Exclaimed Jisung. “It killed us. Now we’re young, dead, sex slaves forever.” He looked down at the bedspread.

The mood in the room suddenly dropped and you could tell all the men were in a moment of reflection.

“So,” you started slowly. “When a woman comes along who subconsciously requires your… services… then you are bound to fulfill her needs?”

They all nodded.

“Our bodies naturally respond. It’s intoxicating.” Hyunjin said softly. “All of us are aching for you.” His hand reached out and touched your arm. Cold. Cold just like the sensation in your dream.

“What if I say no? What happens?”

“We won’t touch you.” Chan states. 

“But we’d be in pain until the next compatible woman comes along.” Said Felix.

“The urge and desire won’t dissipate until we have found another compatible woman.” added Seungmin.

You considered everything they just told you. It was wild. It was far-fetched, and absolutely unbelievable. But here you were. On a bed with a room full of ghosts. Ghosts that were horny for you. You should say no. But you couldn’t. It seemed you were horny for them too.

They were alluring. Tempting. Could they make you feel the way you did in your dream? They weren’t even touching you then, supposedly, and you wondered what it’d feel like to have them really do those things to you, and more.

You took the cup to your mouth. “What happens if I drink this stronger version?” You looked at Felix.

“It will relax you. But more importantly it shows us what your body truly needs to be sated, and who want to do it to you.” Said Changbin.

“There’s no hiding if you drink that. You won’t be able to hold back.” Minho smirked.

“And everything will feel more intense.” Added Jeongin. 

“Babygirl.” Chan gripped your arm. “You need to give us your permission. Will you let us pleasure you… fuck you until you can’t take any more?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.” you whispered, and gulped the entire drink down. 

“That’s it, baby.”  Clapped Jisung.

“I knew from how hard she came earlier that she’d be up for this.” Seungmin added.

“She’s just drank the whole thing. Chan, that was full strength.” Felix was horrified.

“Means she’ll be pliable, we can do anything.” Seungmin said slyly.

“Well, anything she wants.” Corrected Changbin..

“She’ll want us to do absolutely everything. I can tell. This one’s a fucking freak.” Said Minho.

You immediately became lightheaded. And hot. So fucking hot. You threw the blanket off and started clawing at your skimpy nightie. “Hot!” you cried. “So hot.”

Ice cold hands came to your body, ripping the garment from you, leaving you naked, on fire, your skin burning. “Please!” you cried, searching for the cool relief of those hands.

A hand wrapped around your leg, dragging you into the middle of the mattress. More hands started to explore your body. Firm, freezing, so relieving against your scorching skin. 

You opened your eyes to find that all eight ghosts were surrounding you on the bed. But they weren’t translucent anymore. They appeared as real as living men. “Touch me.” you sobbed as your eyes darted around to each of them.

“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Whispered Jisung.

You didn’t know whose hands were who’s, but there were so many on your body. So cooling to the skin. A hand cupped a breast, while another pinched your other nipple. Your legs were spread wide and a frozen cold tongue pressed against your pussy. 

“Fuck!” you cried out and looked down to find Jisung sucking on your clit. “Fuck! Feels so good.” you panted.

“How does she taste, brother?” someone asked. 

“Like pussy.” he groaned. “I fucking missed this taste.”

While your eyes had rolled back into your head from the intensity of what was happening, you felt your arms being pulled above your head, and soft velvet ropes were tied around your wrists. You looked up behind you to see Minho tying the other ends of the ropes to the headposts. “Kitten likes to be tied up.” he winked at you.

Meanwhile, Jisung had peeled himself away from between your legs and Hyunjin was kneeling between them, gazing at your pussy. Just the way he was looking at you and licking his lips made your cunt gush. He noticed and swiped his finger over your dripping arousal, then took his finger to his lips. He proceeded to wink at you, slip off his robe. With the most deranged look you’d ever seen on a man, he lifted your hips to line your entrance up with his cock, and slammed you onto him. His cock felt like a hard block of ice. Thick, hard, rigid. But so relieving inside your searing heat.

He was so strong, he wasn’t even thrusting. He was simply making you fuck him. The binds on your arms were pulled taut every time you were fully impaled on him.

“So pliable.” Jeongin said as he leaned down to suck one of your nipples. 

“Like a fucking ragdoll.’ Seungmin mused. “Look how her eyes roll back every time he fucks into her.”

It was so hard to focus on where everyone was and what they were doing. All you knew is that you needed them to touch you. You needed Hyunjin to keep doing whatever he was doing. He felt so long, so deep, and after a while the sharp coldness eased off and his cock started to feel more warm. More alive. You weren’t sure whether your body was warming him up, or if he was cooling you down.

Your core tightened, your orgasm was approaching fast. As if on cue, a finger landed on your clit, and rubbed hard, rough circles on it.

“Please…please…I’m gonna…I…I…so close..” you cried and babbled. 

Hyunjin thrust you onto you harder, digging his fingers into your flesh, and the fingers on your clit became more forceful.

“It’s okay, Hyunin’s gonna make you cum.” Chan cooed.

A sudden powerful surge of cold energy exploded inside your cunt, causing your walls to automatically contract around it. “Holy fucking shit!” you panted. “I’m…fuck!!!” your walls clenched tighter than they ever had before, and you were coming so hard you thought your body had split apart. It felt as though your entire pelvic region was pulsing around Hyunjin’s cock. It lasted so long, maybe an entire minute, and by the time you came down, you were sobbing. Hyunjin leaned over and took you in a deep kiss before slipping out.

“No! No!” you cried out. You were too empty now. Your body relaxed into the bed when a few sets of lips soothed you through kisses to your body. “More.” you whispered softly.

“Shh. You’re gonna be plenty filled tonight, baby.” Jisung whispered in your ear, before he hooked his hands under your arms and dragged you so your head hung off the edge of the mattress. He opened his robe to reveal his delicious cock, and you immediately opened your mouth for him. He smirked as he pushed his cock into your warm, wet mouth. He too was was ice cold, but you noticed he began to warm up quickly. 

“Baby likes to choke on big cocks, huh?” he snarled. “I never expected such a perfect little lady to turn up on our doorstep tonight.” he pushed himself all the way into the back of your throat. You couldn’t breathe. But you didn’t care. Right now being filled with cock was more important to your survival than air. 

“Fuck. You can see it pressing into her throat.” Jeongin hissed. He was setting himself up to fuck you now. 

“If you put your hand on her neck, you can feel it.” Jisung said excitedly.

Jeongin reached up and pressed his hand to your neck, squeezing your throat and making Jisung feel so much bigger. He pulled out to let you catch your breath, and then he was stretching your throat out again.

Jeongin twisted your lower half so you were on your side from your waist down. He straddled your bottom leg, pinning it into position, whilst lifting your upper leg to rest on his shoulder. He pressed his hips, pushing his cock into you, and immediately started fucking you fast. He was hitting you so deep that you were certain he was pushing your cervix deeper and deeper into your body, and the way Jisung seemed to be pushing deeper and deeper into your throat, you thought they would eventually meet up in the middle.

Your hands were guided to wrap around two rock hard, ice cold cocks. You had no clue who they belonged to. You didn’t care. All these ghost men were fuckable. You wanted to touch and feel every single one of them.

“Grrr…I’m fucking coming.” cried Jeongin. 

“Let’s cum in her at the same time.” Said Jisung.

Then you felt it. The same as with Hyunjin. The cold surge of energy, filling you up from both ends. Your back arched off the bed as you came again. Your hands squeezed around the cocks you were holding. Cries and hisses rang out around the room at the sight before them.

“Good girl. So fucking good.” Purred Jisung as he eased his cock from your mouth. 

“Noooo!” You cried. He leaned down and kissed you. Baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good later. I already know what you’re gonna want me to do.” He winked.

Jeongin was gone too. The dicks in your hands also gone, and you whimpered at so much loss. You didn’t have time to cry for too long when you were suddenly dragged by your feet further onto the bed and flung into your stomach. “You’re such a filthy little slut, pup.” Seungmin laid against you, whispering nasty words in your ear. He’d grasped your arms, holding them both behind your back with one hand. Your hair was plastered on your cheek, and he spat on it before pushing your face against the mattress below.

“Please-” you choked. 

“Oh, my slutty little pup. I know exactly what you want. But I wanna hear you say it for the whole class to hear.”

How does he know? You wondered to yourself in your delirious state. Seungmin pressed the length of his hardness against your ass. 

“Please…fill my ass.” You sobbed. A collective hum spread around the room at your admission.

“That’s right.” Seungmin pressed his tip against your rim. You still weren’t used to how cold their cocks were to begin with. “Such a slut wanting me to put it in without loosening you up first.” He spat on the side of your face again, his saliva sticking in your hair. You needed him to hurry. You needed him to fill you. You were so fucking empty. 

Seungmin’s cock breached your rim as he pressed his body further on top of you. The stretch felt overwhelmingly satisfying, while the coolness of his cock soothed the sting. The feeling of being trapped beneath him, arms held tight behind you, the feeling of helplessness intensified your need for him to penetrate you.

Finally, his hips met the curve of your ass cheeks. “Such a tight little hole. He grunted as he started to grind against you. “Not sure how tight it’ll be by morning.” He whispered low in your ear. He started with a slow, steady pace, allowing your body to warm his cock. “Harder…harder.” You mumbled into the mattress. 

Seungmin growled and fucked into you, pressing your face further into the mattress. It felt like he was fucking you forever, yet not long enough. You were mumbling and dribbling all over the bed. Then, the familiar feeling of what seemed to be their orgasms, filled you once again, making you come hard. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you were already desperate to have someone fill it again. 

It was as though Minho read your mind, and as soon as Seungmin dislodged himself from your ass, he was dragging you to the otherside of the bed. He stood on the floor and pressed your legs up into a mating press position and drank you in with hungry eyes. “I love watching my cock sink into a pussy.” He said. “Watch with me.”

You looked down just in time to see his cock push inside of you. “Kittie’s hungry.” He smirked as you sucked in his entire cock, and glanced up at you. “Does it feel good?” He asked.

You nodded fervently. “Yes! So good.” You squeaked. He cocked an eyebrow. “What about your ass?” He pulled out of your cunt and pushed fully into into your ass.

“Fuck! So deep. So fucking deep.” You cried. This position allowed Minho to reach the deepest part of you. He fit your cunt so well, but, oh fuck, he felt incredible in your ass too. You wanted him to fuck both hol-

“You really are filthy.” Minho said disbelief. He pulled out of your ass and plunged back into your pussy.

You knew, you really knew, that this wasn’t a good idea, but you wanted him to do it so fucking bad. And he knew! He knew what you wanted. They all seemed to know. You didn’t have to say a word and they knew all the filthy things you craved.

You glanced around you to see some of the others had gathered around to watch Minho fuck your pussy, then your ass, then back to your pussy, while he held you still on the bed.

“Look how her holes stay open waiting for him to put it back in again.” Felix said mesmerised.

Despite your delirium, you had an idea. You wanted someone to finger fuck you when Minho was in your ass. He pulled out of your cunt once more and as he pushed back into your now gaping asshole, Changbin slipped two fingers into your pussy. 

“That’s it, Bunny. Binnie’s fingers stretch you good don’t they?” He purred.

Your hands flailed around looking for cocks to jerk off, relieved to find Felix and Jeongin in your hands. “My mouth! Need someone in my mouth.” You whimpered.

“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Cooed Jisung again. “Chan, you should fill her mouth. She’s begging you.”

“Yeah Channie, you haven’t felt her. She’s fucking incredible.” Seungmin encouraged. 

Yes. You wanted Chan in your mouth. “Please.” You were crying because you wanted it so bad. Chan straddled your chest and pressed the tip of his cock against your lip. “Open wide, babygirl. Daddy needs to make you choke.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he pushed his cock into your mouth. “That’s it. Suck on it.” He pushed deeper.

Minho picked up his pace, slamming into your ass at an alarming pace, and Changbin was digging into your g-spot aggressively. You were feeling so used, but at the same time so special.

“Changbin’s got four fingers in you, baby. You should see your pretty little holes.” Jisung panted as he fucked into his own hand. 

Chan gripped your hair and started to fuck your throat at the same rhythm as Minho was fucking your ass. You didn’t know why taking their cocks down your throat was so incredibly arousing, but it was. You couldn’t get enough. It was almost like you didn’t need to breathe when they were in your mouth, and you wondered if it was some weird ghost magic.

You were pinned down and held still as they forced another orgasm out of you. How much more could your body take? You hadn’t even fucked all of them yet. You started to feel drowsy and your eyes fluttered closed. Chan withdrew his cock from your mouth, and some saliva dribbled down your chin. 

“Babygirl.” He stroked your cheek. “Are you okay? You need to wake up for us. You still need more to be sated.”

Minho and Changbin pulled out of you too and came up to check on you. 

“We can’t keep doing this if you’re asleep, pretty lady.” Felix stroked your hair and gazed down at you. 

You opened your eyes and grinned with a fucked out expression. “Why am I empty?” You whispered.

“Atta girl.” Chan slapped your face, pulling you out of your sleepy moment, and just like that you were ready for more.

“Come ride me, bunny.” Changbin coaxed you over by gripping his cock and pumping it a few times. You licked your lips and crawled towards him, and a few hard slaps landed on your ass as you did so.

Changbin had a thick cock. Maybe the thickest you’d ever seen. You threw a leg over him and reached down to line his cock up with your entrance. You both sighed in relief as you slid effortlessly onto his thickness and immediately began to roll your hips. “Fuck, yeah, bunny. Still so tight, even after we’ve fucked you open.”

You grinned down at him as you found a rhythm with him rolling his hips up into you in the most delicious way. “Kiss me.” he sighed, and pulled you down on top of him and captured you in a deep kiss. You melted against him, as he cupped your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. You panted into Chanbgin’s mouth. “You want Felix at the same time?” he whispered. You nodded.

Like clockwork, you felt the mattress dip behind you. “It’s okay, love. Lixi’s gonna help keep you feeling full.” he positioned himself behind you and lined himself up with your ass. 

Although your ass had been stretched by two cocks already, Felix was met with some resistance due to Changbin already filling you up so good. But Felix persevered, pressing and pushing until he was fully seated inside of you.

A few of the other men gasped at the sight of seeing you filled like this. 

“Felix,” said Changbin. “You know what she wants us to do. Are you ready to give it to her?” Felix grabbed hold of your hips, pressing his fingers into you hard, and began to fuck you with hard, sharp thrusts. He snapped his hips quickly, forcing you to cry out in choked sobs. At the same time, Changbin gently rolled his hips up into you. The difference in technique and pace was driving you insane. The feeling of both your holes stretched like this was overwhelming. They were going to break you into pieces. You were sure of it. You were crying and sobbing, eventually collapsing onto Changbin and letting them fuck you dumb. Drool was dribbling out of your mouth onto Changbin’s shoulder, and you felt like you were losing your sense of consciousness.

“P-please…please…ruin me…fuck me…feels s’good…so deep… full.” You babbled.

“She’s so dumb from cock. Look at her. Eyes unfocused. Drooling.” Minho observed. 

“Her cunt is gushing around Binnie too. You all know what she wants next, don’t you?” Jisung winked at Chan. 

“C’mon fellas. Fuck her harder. She’ll fall asleep if you’re too gentle.” Minho snickered.

Both Changbin and Felix doubled down, both finding a matching rhythm, and slamming into your holes. Even though you knew what to expect from theirs orgasms, it still hit you hard, taking you over the edge with them. The three of you were a trembling mess by the time they pulled out of you.

“Pup, show us your pretty used holes.” Seungmin requested. You happily obliged by leaning your head into the bed, ass in the air, and spreading your cheeks with your shaky hands. 

Whines, whimpers, sighs, and mumbled “fucks” filled the room as they all gazed hungrily at your sloppy, used holes. “Fuck, I wish I could ejaculate. I’d cum all over that ass.” sighed Hyunjin.

“I’d fucking cum in there and watch it ooze out.” added Minho.

“Babygirl.” Chan had laid himself on his back, leaning against the pillows. “My turn to feel your pussy. I’m out of patience.” 

You sauntered over to him, and kissed him. “Turn around, babygirl. Show ‘em how you ride reverse.” You straddled him, reverse cowgirl, and swallowed up his cock whole. Chan’s cock was ice cold like the rest of the men, but he was much, much bigger. He stretched you out like you were made for him. “That’s it. There you go. There you go.” he cooed once you planted your feet into the mattress and used your legs as leverage to bounce yourself up and down his length. 

All eyes were on your hole swallowing Chan’s cock, and then sliding up to reveal just how wet and slippery you were. Hyunjin was lying on his stomach watching everything curiously. A few of the others were pumping their still hard cocks. You even noticed a couple of the men were translucent again.

You eyes landed on the one man you hadn’t fucked yet. Jisung. He looked at your pussy desperately, like he was in pain. He needed you. He looked up, locking eyes with you, and in an instant, he crawled over to you. “Hey baby. You ready for me?” he grinned.

“I am.” you whimpered.

“Okay, lean back on me…that’s it.” instructed Chan. “Let’s push your legs up. Good girl. That’s it. Make room for Jisung.”

Jisung kneeled in front of you and rubbed his cock against your clit. “Please.” you plead. You watched as Jisung pushed against your entrance, beside Chan, and when the tip slipped in you cried out. “Fuck.” you squeaked. “It’s so…fuck…the stretch…it’s” your hands gripped onto Jisung’s arms to hold yourself in place as Jisung pushed further into your cunt. 

Jisung’s cock was cold, where Chan’s had warmed up and the difference in temperature allowed you to feel the two distinct penises that were inside you.

“I’m gonna push all the way in now, baby.” Jisung pushed his hips hard, and with your pussy so wet, it gave way just enough for the rest to slip in.

“Fuck, it’s so tight.” Jisung’s eyes squeezed closed. 

“Full…S’full.” You groaned.

“Stuffed full of cock.” Seungmin admired.

The other men had gathered around and watched in awe as they watched your pussy being fucked by two cocks at once. Chan continued to hold your legs up out of the way while he fucked you from below. Han leaned over you as he snapped his hips as vigorously as your cunt would allow.

‘’Open.” demanded jisung. You opened your mouth for him and he spat into it before crashing his mouth onto yours. Apparently ghosts don’t ejaculate, but oddly enough they have saliva. 

“This what you wanted, babygirl?” Chan nibbled your neck. You answered with a whimper. 

“You love being stretched like this. Filled so deep with cock?” Jisung said, panting. “You don’t have to say anything. We already know. We know how after this you want us to all take turns double penetrating you.”

You moaned in agreement.

“One in the pussy…one in the ass. Or two in your tight cunt like right now.” Jisung pressed his mouth against your ear. “Maybe even two in the ass?” he whispered. “Maybe we should get everyone to pair up ready?” 

You yelped, and clenched tighter around the two men.

“She likes that idea.” Chan chuckled.

“Well it’s her idea, remember? We’re the sex slaves.” Jisung grunted as he pushed in as deep as possible.

“Good thing our erections last so long. Our pretty Babygirl is so needy. Lucky we're here to take care of her.”

Your body felt floppy, like they could bend you and stretch you however they wanted, and your body would accommodate. All of your attention was focused on the sensation in your core. You felt so full. Their cocks reaching deep inside you. What state would it be in when they’re finished? You didn’t care because after this you wanted them to do it all again. 

Jisung changed his angle to concentrate on your g-spot, causing your body to start shaking. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. You were a helpless, sobbing mess, needing to come, but not wanting to yet.

Minho and Felix moved closer, one on either side of you, and took hold of your trembling legs, freeing up Chan’s hands.

Subconsciously, your hands found their cocks and you started to jerk them off.

“You gonna come with us, babygirl? I can feel you’re so close.” Chan encouraged as he wrapped a hand around your neck to choke you.

Jisung sat back on his knees and began to rub your clit as he and Chan continued to abuse your pussy with hard, relentless thrusts.

You threw your head back, wanting to cry out, but with Chan’s hand squeezing you, it turned into a gurgling sound. Hands groped at your tits, most likely Minho and Felix while they held your legs. You felt the tip of a cock on your cheek, and Chan turned your head so you could open up for Changbin.

You couldn’t hold on any longer. 

“That’s it, babygirl… let go.” Chan whispered.

“Come for us.” Hyunjin said. Words of encouragement resonated around the room.

The tension inside you snapped, setting off your orgasm. Your cunt clamped down, causing Chan and Jisung to come too, moaning and cursing under their breaths. The force of both of their cold energies extended your orgasm, thrusting you into a new realm of pleasure. It had you pulsing, squeezing, shaking, and then squirting all over their cocks.

“Fuck, she squirted so much! Like a fucking faucet.” Someone growled. 

Changbin came in your mouth, and with Chan still choking you, it heightened the feeling of your orgasm and you squirted a second time. 

“Good fucking girl.” Purred Chan as he continued to roll his hips into you.

“She’s the most compatible we’ve ever seen.” Noted Jeongin.

“We’re gonna pull out now, baby.” Jisung stroked your cheek. You grasped his arm and shook your head.

“No! Need more!” You sobbed.

“I thought she was meant to be satisfied by now.” Said Hyunjin, confused.

“It’s like the more we give her, the more she needs.” Observed Felix.

“We have to keep going until she’s satisfied.” Confirmed Minho.

“What a fucking shame.” Sneered Seungmin as he approached the bed and pulled Jisung out of your cunt and lined himself up.

A/n: I have similarly unhinged oneshots and drabbles that you may enjoy on my side blog @daydreams-after-dark .

General Taglist is open for both blogs.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @chansbabyg @kangnina @vanillacupcakefrosting @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @newhope8 @jehhskz @weareapackofstrays @bethanysnow @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows

Again, my tag links have been messing up. 😫😫

[pressureplus]

Not sure if you have done it or if anyone have already requested it.. but I do like to see a headcanons (NSFW?) on the ovipositor of Sebastian. Like if reader finally agrees to let him pregnant them with his eggs. Kinda stuff like how would it feel like during/after breeding? does it will hurt? How long long does it take? How those eggs/babies develop? And how does the giving birth would be and feel like? Anything like that.

Btw, I love your headcanons and oneshots! <3

So glad you asked! I've been dealing with pain lately so Ive needed consistent care. As per usual we are writing, this one just happened to be finished first. Also, thank you for the compliment <3

♡Sebastian Solace Ovipositor Headcannons♡

Warnings: Describing this Non-Erotically, Implied Sex, Oviposition/Ovipositor, AFAB and AMAB Cannons (God Im Sorry), Pregnancy/Birth Vaguely Mentioned, M!Preg Mentioned

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

Starting off strong, the moment you agree to have that mans babies he is all over you

Excited, yes, and at the mention of his Ovipositor being put to use he’ll be a little shy but happy to oblige! How can he not be? The idea of having a family almost makes him feel…normal. Happy and normal.

As his tendril is always sheathed, it stays very slick, which makes insertion easier. Despite his absurdly large length (he is well over twice your size) he doesn't need to be all the way inside your body to use said Ovipositor

During the process of actually putting those eggs in your body, it feels…odd. The best way I can describe this is like swallowing those Boba Pearls in drinks? But like…obviously not with your mouth

Doesn't hurt! The eggs arent too large, about an inch in length and diameter, but still not painful! You’d think they would be, right?

This is due to both the slightly muscle relaxant features of said slick, and the flexible nature of his eggs

Despite their size they can easily compress to be smaller if pressure is applied…too much pressure will pop them and make them no longer viable but yes they can get a bit smaller

They're like little jelly balls with a turquoise color

After the fact, you'll really just feel oddly full for the next day or two. These things are decently sticky and almost parasitic in nature so those that are going to continue to develop will be burying themselves into your body

Not a painful process either, by the way

Those that don't end up attaching to anything are not particularly viable as they can't take any of your DNA to make anything. So those really just have to be removed. This can be done decently easily with some pressure applied to your stomach and a bit of pushing

Produces 6-12 eggs on average, but may produce more or less, so you never really know how many actually stuck

The way these eggs develop is rather unnatural to say the least.

If you're AFAB then they'll attempt to fill your uterus much like a normal baby would. They also take as much ‘code’ from your DNA as possible, feeding off your blood for minerals similar to how Anglerfish pairs function

If you're AMAB things get a bit..sticky for you. They'll hollow out their own space inside you, kind of like a very small faux womb. This is NOT painful, but does leave a sort of dull ache like you've just worked out for a while. This small little wound will close behind the eggs as well so they won't be disturbed. They feed off you the same way as they do for those who are AFAB

This pregnancy can last anywhere from 6-9 months depending on how large the batch of eggs is. They do technically ‘share’ their meals so they'll all be ready to hatch at the same time. Think of it like an evolutionary trait for a better chance at survival.

Doesn't entirely feel like pregnancy, you'll feel weaker, bloaty, and maybe a bit sick mostly due to lower mineral/vitamin counts. But as long as you take some kind of supplements or eat healthy you'll be fine

You don't get particularly round or anything either, just a small bump that could easily be passed off as weight gain

On the Plus side for the AFABS, your body does not continue to have its menstrual cycle during these months. They release their own chemicals into your body/bloodstream for a better latch and less chances to be ‘rejected’

As for having these babies? There's conractions/cramping for sure and a bit of blood from where those eggs detach. I wouldn't call them particularly bad contractions, as they're slower and a lot less painful than normal child birth

The body doesn't have to prep as much since they're not normal sized human babies.

If you're AFAB, they'll come out the natural way. If you're AMAB, you're going to need surgery

Surgery is of course an option for both if preferred.

They pop their eggs and are ready to go the second they break, now for the most part the body can just absorb the nutrients in these empty ‘shells’ but they can also be removed. It won't cause additional harm either way

These babies aren't very big when they're taken out

In fact, they're all about palms sized. They're warm to the touch, covered in a bit of blood and whatever liquid is inside those eggs, so they're a bit sticky. But just fine to wipe clean

They’ll be oddly…blue and pale for the first while as they learn to breathe oxygen with their very small lungs. Don't worry, they'll figure it out. They look almost like normal babies aside from this, well, not including those that look more like Sebastian

They’ll develop faster than normal babies as well. Some may even be born with sharp teeth, others will get their set within the first two months.

They're already up and ready to go in about a year or less, as if they're made for survival like wild animals. However this will come at a cost. Your sanity mostly when your 1 year old is chewing through the casings of wires and chair legs.

By the time they're around 5-6 they'll be just a little smaller than the size of a normal human child.

As teenagers getting their growth spurts? Many of your children may end up BIGGER than average humans!

Overall your children will be different, as was the process of having them, but they're still perfectly healthy

[janiehellion]

Breaking Through

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl’s reckless behavior on a supply run nearly gets him killed, pushing you to remind him how to stay humble. Little did you know, his attitude was hiding something much deeper that only you could break through.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MOMMY KINK / SMUT / BODY WORSHIP / ORAL SEX / EDGING / TEASING / HURT / COMFORT / AFTERCARE / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.799

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: LATE S5 & EARLY S6

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @mayday2007

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I truly hope I did your request justice! I also hope that the length of it is okay and that it met your expectations. And thank you so much for your patience!

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You leaned against the porch, one of the few spots in Alexandria that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. It all felt too damn clean sometimes, too fake even. Here, it was easy to forget how the world had gone to shit, but... Daryl? He never let himself forget. He was walking around by the gate, looking like an animal waiting for a fight, and you knew why...

Rick and a few others were getting ready for a run—another trip outside the safe walls to scavenge for supplies. But more than that, it was an excuse for Daryl to escape the suffocation of Alexandria. He’d rather be out there with the walkers than in here, playing pretend.

"Daryl," you called out, and he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing like he was already preparing for a lecture from you.

"What?" He grunted, sounding as defensive as ever. He was always on alert these days, and it was only getting worse since you arrived in Alexandria.

"Listen," you started, stepping down from the porch and running toward him as he prepared to leave. "I know you hate this place, and I understand; I really do, but you need to keep your head on straight out there. You’re not just out there for yourself. You’ve got Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with you today. You fuck anything up; they could get hurt too. Please, just be careful."

He looked away, scuffing his boot against the ground like a stubborn child who didn’t want to hear what you were saying. "Ain’t no damn kid. Can handle myself," he growled back at you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. "You might be able to handle yourself, sure, and we all know that you are more than capable of doing that, but that doesn’t mean you can act reckless. You need to listen to Rick, do what he says, and stop acting like a damn brat. You keep pulling this shit, and one of these days, it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Literally."

Daryl clenched his jaw and scoffed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually argue with you. But then he just shook his head. "Yer done now?"

"No, Daryl, I’m not done," you snapped back, feeling your frustration grow and almost boil over. "I’m tired of watching you do this bullshit, okay? We’re all trying to make this work, and you’re out there acting like you’ve got a death wish. We’ve lost too many people already, and I’m not about to lose you or anyone else because you couldn’t keep your damn self in check."

For a second, you saw something like vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked away again, like he was trying to block out your words, not wanting to listen to you.

"Just... think about what I said, okay?" You said, the tone in your voice softening slightly. You didn’t want to push him too hard, but you couldn’t just let this slide again all the time. "I’m not trying to piss you off, Daryl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. We all need you to come back. I... I need you to come back."

He didn’t say anything; he just gave you a nod before finally turning away. But as you watched him walk toward Rick, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen on this run.

Rick was already waiting by the gate, his hands on his hips as he looked around Alexandria. He seemed to be tired, but when he saw you approaching as well, he gave you a small smile.

"Did you talk to him?" Rick asked, his voice whispering, so only you could hear.

"Yeah," you replied, glancing over at Daryl, who was busy playing around with his knife. "But you know how he is. Stubborn as hell."

Rick laughed a little, but there was no real humor in it. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth? Don’t worry, I'll keep an eye on him while we’re out there, alright? If he does something stupid..."

"You'll make sure he doesn’t," you interrupted, not needing him to finish the sentence.

"Alright. Got it. We’ll be back before you know it," Rick said, louder now and turning to the gate as it opened, and Glenn arrived with the car. "We’re heading out. Stay close, keep quiet, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. We get what we need, and we get back. That's it."

You watched as Daryl took his crossbow and walked with Rick and the others over to the truck. You were worried, sure, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This was Daryl Dixon, after all. He was tough, he was resourceful, and he’d been through far worse than this. But still, there was that uncomfortable feeling in the back of your mind, the one that told you things weren’t going to go smoothly today.

Rick took Daryl aside in the meantime. "Listen, Daryl. We stick to the plan, and we get back without any extra bullshit. You got that?"

Daryl glared at Rick but didn’t say anything. You knew that look; it was the one that said he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

With that, Rick and the others—Glenn and Michonne, in this case—headed out, leaving you in Alexandria with the rest of the group.

You turned away, heading back to the house, but your thoughts were still with Daryl. You just hoped he’d listen to you for once, or rather, Rick. Because if he didn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive him—or yourself—if something went wrong.

The truck stopped at the side of a parking lot some time later. Abandoned cars were standing around all over the place, with their windows shattered and rotting corpses still sitting in some of them. It was a graveyard. Rick turned off the engine and looked over to the building, his face already showing that things were about to get rough.

"This place is full of walkers," Rick mumbled, looking around the area. "Okay… We get in, we get out. No fucking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, even Daryl, though the look in his eyes told a different story. Alexandria was killing him slowly, suffocating him with its safety and daily routine, and one could see he was just waiting to break free, to remind himself what it felt like to be out there again, in the real world, and not living in an illusion.

"Stick together," Rick continued, his eyes narrowing at Daryl like he could read his mind. "We’re hitting that grocery store, grabbing what we can, and getting the hell out. Nothing else, no bullshit."

Daryl grunted in response, his hand tightening around his crossbow. He wasn’t making any promises; that was clear enough, but at least he wasn’t outright showing it. That would have to be good enough. The four of them got out of the truck, their weapons ready, and slowly made their way toward the store. It looked like it had been raided a few times already, but Rick had heard from Aaron that a shipment had been left behind in the storage rooms—lots of canned food, water, and even medicine inside the small pharmacy of the store, locked up in the back, just waiting to be taken. Easy, if they played it safe.

Of course, playing it safe had not been Daryl’s way of doing it lately, not when his blood was boiling, and especially not since the prison, Terminus, and the other hell everyone went through. And especially not ever since Alexandria.

They went through the side entrance, which was once for the people that had worked there, the glass doors hanging off their hinges, and one could easily guess how most of the walkers got into the store in the first place, apart from those walkers that’ve died inside while scavenging. The inside of the store was pure chaos, with broken shelves, rotten food, and other empty products all across the floor. They moved quietly as Rick led the way, his Colt Python out and ready as always, Glenn close behind with his knife drawn, and Michonne with her sword, while Daryl was at the end, pointing his crossbow around as well. They soon made it to the back of the store, where the stockroom doors were, without drawing any attention so far.

"Alright," Rick whispered, motioning for the others to cover him. "Glenn and I will try to open the door. Michonne, watch our backs. Daryl, you—"

But before Rick could finish, Daryl was already moving. He didn’t like waiting, didn’t like standing around while others decided what to do, or having to wait for a plan. Without a word, he went off to the right, disappearing down one of the side aisles, his crossbow at the ready.

"Daryl!" Rick hissed, but there was no stopping him.

"Shit," Glenn grumbled in a bit of annoyance and panic, his eyes looking at Rick. "Where the hell is he going? What is he doing?"

Rick shook his head in frustration. "Just... just stay here," he ordered before walking after Daryl, cursing to himself with every step.

Daryl moved fast, his crossbow raised as he approached the loading dock at the back of the store from another side. He could hear the sounds of walkers moving behind the metal door, but this was exactly what he was looking for. He shoved the door open with a grunt, with the door making a noise that could be heard all throughout the whole store.

The walkers inside turned at the sound, and they immediately moved forward, their arms outstretched.

"C’mon, ya ugly bastards," Daryl mumbled, the first bolt killing the nearest walker in an instant. The walker fell to the ground, but the others kept coming.

He reloaded quickly, but just as he was about to fire again, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off balance. He hadn’t noticed the few other walkers, hidden in an open employee restroom nearby, their fingers grabbing his vest with their teeth only inches away from his face.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled, kicking the walker in front of him back and grabbing his knife. But he soon stumbled, falling down to the floor with the two of them on top of him. The impact knocked the knife from his hands, letting it slide across the floor, just out of reach, as he struggled to push the walkers off.

Then, just as the walkers’ teeth were about to bite into his flesh, several gunshots could be heard. Daryl gasped for breath, shoving the dead off him as he got to his feet, his heart racing while he looked over at Rick standing in the doorway with his Colt Python.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rick said, lowering the gun. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

Daryl wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Rick but not saying a single word. He didn’t need to—he knew he’d fucked up, and Rick certainly knew it too.

But Rick didn’t wait for an explanation. "We need to hurry. Get your damn ass back to the truck. Now!"

For now, Daryl didn’t argue. He grabbed his crossbow and knife, putting it over his shoulder as he moved past Rick and over to Glenn and Michonne. He could feel Rick’s eyes on his back, judging him, and it took everything in him not to lash out. But he knew Rick was right. He’d been reckless, and it had nearly cost him his life. Not only that, but the supply run failed with the other walkers in the front of the store now moving toward the storage room.

Once outside, Daryl couldn’t ignore the thought that he’d fucked up more than just the run. He’d broken the trust, not just with Rick but with you. And he knew he’d have to face the consequences when he got back.

The sun was starting to set when you saw Rick and the others coming through the gate. You’d been waiting, walking around Alexandria, trying to distract yourself. But the deal had been clear—Rick would bring Daryl back in one piece and tell you every detail. But the moment you caught sight of Rick, you knew something had gone wrong. It was written all over his face, as was the fact that they had no supplies with them.

"Rick," you called out, running over to him.

He looked up at you, nodding and narrowing his eyes. You hated that look. It meant bad news, and you were tired of bad news.

"What happened?" You demanded as he walked next to you. "Where’s Daryl?"

"He’s fine," Rick said, holding up a hand to calm you down, though it didn’t do shit for your nerves. "I don't know where he is right now. Jumped right out of the truck. Physically, he’s okay. But, hell, it was close. Too close. Again."

Your stomach dropped at his words. This was getting out of hand. "What do you mean, 'close'?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment. "We were in that store Aaron told us about, wanting to get the supplies. Daryl decided to go off on his own, like he always does lately. Didn’t wait for us as a backup, just did his own thing. Not even telling us that there was an easier way and that he has seen it. Next thing I know, he’s nearly got two walkers biting into his damn neck."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "I told him—hell, we both told him so many times—not to pull that lone wolf bullshit anymore! And he still did it? I can’t fucking believe it!"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Same old Daryl, too stubborn for his own good. I got there in time, but if I hadn’t... well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm the rage inside you. But it was hard—damn hard—when you pictured Daryl almost getting himself killed because he couldn’t follow simple instructions. "What the hell is wrong with him, Rick? Why does he keep doing this shit? Is Alexandria that bad for him? I mean, yeah, we all aren’t used to this... illusion, but hell, we’re at least trying to make the best of it! All of us!"

Rick sighed, leaning against the porch railing once you both arrived at the house. "I don’t think it’s only about Alexandria, not entirely. But yeah, it’s too controlled, too... fake. So he goes out there, trying to prove he’s still... still who he was out there. But it’s not like none of us tries the exact same thing. We all do. Or did."

You shook your head in frustration. "I get it; I do. But we can’t keep going on like this. He’s going to get himself killed—or worse, get someone else hurt. I’m fucking done sitting around, hoping he’ll pull his head out of his damn ass!"

Rick looked at you with a small smile. "By now I was thinking the same thing on the way back. We’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he isn’t listening. He’s too stubborn."

"That’s it," you finally said. "I’m handling this. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll finally listen to me. But one way or another, this shit stops today, I swear."

Rick’s eyebrows moved up in surprise before he nodded slowly. "You sure? I don’t think you should push him into a corner."

You smirked, but it was more due to annoyance than amusement. "Oh, I’m sure. He’s going to learn today that there’s more than one way to get his damn ass in line. Trust me, Rick. Otherwise… Otherwise, I just don’t know what to do anymore."

Rick laughed a little and shook his head. "Alright then. Just don’t go too hard on him. And you must remember that it takes time. With… all of this."

You waved him off, already halfway down the steps of the porch. "He’ll be fine, Rick."

As you headed toward the garage, where you knew Daryl was probably working on his bike, your mind was already racing with what you were going to say. This wasn’t just about Daryl acting like a reckless asshole—this was about keeping him and the others alive, keeping him from throwing away everything you’d fought so hard for in this new world, with the rest of the group.

The moment you stepped into the garage, he barely looked your way, too focused on tightening a bolt that didn’t even need any more tightening. But you weren’t about to let him ignore you, not after what Rick had told you.

"Daryl," you started, but he only grunted in response, and that was about it—just a damn grunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to reply with words. And it pissed you off how he could be so nonchalant after nearly getting himself killed.

"Look at me," you snapped, stepping closer to him. "I said... Look at me, Dixon."

He paused, his hand stilling on the wrench, before finally looking into your eyes with a scoff.

"You think you can just go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want? Well, guess what, Daryl? You almost got your damn throat ripped out today. And for what? Because you couldn’t listen? Because you’re too stubborn to accept that you’re part of a community now, and not some lone wolf out there in the woods with a group he helps out every now and then?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ain’t like that," he mumbled, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit!" You shot back, stepping even closer until you were right in his face, close enough to see the way his eyes widened slightly. "It’s exactly like that, and you know it. And for what? To prove something? To whom? You ain’t gotta prove anything to me, Daryl. And certainly not our group. But you do owe it to us to stop acting like a fucking idiot!"

He turned away from you, but you weren’t done yet. "This isn’t just about you anymore, Dixon. Every time you pull this shit, you put everyone at risk. Everyone! You get bit, we lose a member of this group. A member of our damn family! You die, and we all suffer! Do you even get that? Or are you that stuck with your own damn head up your ass that you can’t see that?"

"Ain’t need ya shittin’ on me," he growled, his voice quiet, but you caught something like guilt in it. "Can handle my ass."

"Clearly," you snapped at him with sarcasm. "Because you handled yourself so well today that Rick had to pull your ass out of a walker’s mouth. Real smooth, Daryl! Real fucking smooth!"

He flinched at that, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face you. "Ain’t like I needed any damn help."

You didn’t back down, though. You were way past that. "And that’s the problem, Daryl. You think that you don’t need anyone. But guess what? You do. You need us, and we need you. So stop acting like an asshole and start thinking about what you’re doing to everyone else."

For a second, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure something out. "Why ya care s’ much?" He finally asked.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Because I give a shit, you damn idiot. Because I... care about you more than anyone else here even knows, and I’m not about to watch you throw your life away over some macho bullshit, or whatever you’re trying to act like. You think I want to lose you? You think any of us do?"

He stared at you. "Ain’t tryna make shit harder," he muttered, looking down at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "Jus’... can’t stand it ‘ere sometimes. Ain’t me ‘round ‘ere."

"Who you are isn’t some reckless idiot who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. Who you are is someone who’s saved more lives than you can count, someone who’s part of a family now. And yeah, maybe it’s different here and maybe it’s hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to check out whenever you feel like it, as if this community is a fucking hotel!"

He didn’t say anything; he just kept looking at you with those blue, searching eyes, like he was waiting for you to give him something—some kind of direction.

You took a deep breath. "Daryl, you need to stop this shit. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. And if you won’t listen to Rick, then you’ll damn well listen to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering. "Got it."

"Good," you said. "Because this stops now. You’re done running off, done putting yourself at risk for no damn reason. From now on, you listen, just like before. We’re all a big team, Daryl, and we still are despite everything. Understand?"

"Yeah… Do ya still lo—" He started but stopped himself from speaking any further. "Are ya mad?"

"What? No, I’m not mad," you answered, stepping back to leave, wanting to give him some space. "But I’m hurt and disappointed."

Daryl sat there for a long time after you left. He gritted his teeth, and his fists were clenched, but it wasn’t anger. It was guilt. Shame even. All he knew was that he’d fucked up.

"Stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair while he could still hear your voice in his head. "Fuckin’ piece o' shit. Can’t even keep yer damn head straight."

He felt like a fool, like a stubborn kid who’d just been put in his place. But it wasn’t just the anger that stuck with him—it was the look in your eyes, the pain and fear of what could’ve happened to him.

"Gotta make this right," he grumbled, now walking around the garage. "Ain’t gonna let her think I’m some reckless asshole who don’t care ‘bout nothin’." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s right… Been actin’ like a damn idiot. But… shit, need t’ prove I ain’t just some fuckup."

He knew you’d left him alone on purpose, letting him think about it, just like you’ve done several times before. But this time, he wasn’t going to sit here and wait for you to come back. He had a plan—a rather half-baked plan, but it was all he had. He needed to show you how much you meant to him and how much he needed you.

"Fuck, she’s gonna kill me," he sighed, shaking his head as he made his way out of the garage. And he knew exactly where and in what house he was going to find you.

You were already half asleep, lying on the floor on a mattress, when you felt someone being there—before you even opened your eyes. It was Daryl, of course, kneeling over you as he carefully pulled the sheets back.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?" You mumbled, still groggy. "Leave me alone."

He didn’t answer right away; he just pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another, moving down your arm, his lips barely touching your skin. It was slow on purpose, like he was trying to worship every inch of you to make up for all the stupid shit he’d done. And it was working, even if it pissed you off that he thought he could just... seduce his way out of this.

"Daryl," you warned, but your voice was weak due to the way his strong, big hands were now sliding down your sides to your waist.

"‘M sorry," he whispered, before he kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "Fucked it up, I know that. But need ya to know... I ain’t a fool. I need ya, more than ya fuckin’ know."

You wanted to stay mad, to shove him away from you and tell him to get his shit together, but his touch—God, it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was taking away your anger with every kiss and every touch of his hands. And when he put his head lower, kissing along your ribs after he pulled up your shirt, you felt almost frustrated.

"Daryl," you breathed out as a warning again, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hands further up your shirt, pulling it over your head as he kissed down your ribs, his fingers grabbing your body like he was trying to show you that he was still alive.

"Need ya," he mumbled against your skin, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Need ya t’ know I ain’t takin’ this for granted."

"Daryl, stop…" You started, but your words were cut off by a gasp as he found that spot just above your waist, his lips kissing you harder, and his teeth softly biting your skin. You felt a shiver run through you, and hell, you hated how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him to keep going.

"I’ll stop if ya want me to, I swear," he whispered, but he didn’t stop, not really. His hands slid down, undoing your pants and wanting to slide them down, which made you stop breathing for a moment.

You were looking at him, your eyes narrowing. "You think you can just—" You started, but then he shut you up—kissing you hard and long, cutting off your words. And fuck, if it didn’t make your whole body shiver with need.

"Can’t help it," he muttered against your lips, his voice a little shaky, like he was losing control. "Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, ‘bout how much I need ya."

"You think this makes up for what you did? For your reckless behavior?" You asked, shaking your head slightly.

"Nah," he admitted. "Gotta show ya somehow. Gotta show ya how much I fuckin’ care."

You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from your pants, even though you were already aching for him. "You don’t get to touch me like that," you said. "Not until I say so."

He swallowed hard, his breath stopping as he nodded, his eyes wide. "Please," he whispered, looking up at you and waiting for permission.

"Please what?" You demanded, tightening your grip on his wrists. "You think you can just come in here and expect me to forgive you? After everything?"

"Nah," he stammered, his eyes looking down to the floor again. "But… I need ya. I need ya t’ see that I can make it right."

"You wanna make it right, Daryl?" You asked again. "Then you’re gonna do exactly what I say, like I said."

"Yeah," he answered, his body almost trembling with the need to make you forgive him. "I’ll do whatever ya want."

You let go of his wrists, letting them fall back to his sides. "Take off your clothes," you ordered, the tone in your voice leaving no room for argument.

He hesitated for just a second, but then he started to stand up and get out of his clothes, his hands shaking as he got out of his shirt, then his pants, and the rest, until he was standing there, naked and vulnerable before you.

"Now get back on your knees," you demanded, watching as his eyes widened.

He dropped to his knees, waiting for your next command. And fuck, if that didn’t send a rush of power straight through you.

You stood over him, your hand reaching out to grab his hair, pulling his head back so he was forced to look up at you. "Look at me."

And he did. He slowly looked up in shame.

"You don’t get to play the lone wolf out there," you continued, stepping closer, your hand grabbing his chin, moving his head up further. "Not anymore. You almost got yourself killed."

"I know," he muttered. "‘M sorry..."

He wanted—no, he needed—to show you how he felt about his mistakes, and he was ready to do it on his knees if that’s what you demanded.

You let go of him, letting him fall forward, as you lay back down onto the mattress. "Show me," you simply said.

And he did—God, he did... He kissed every inch of you, his lips moving lower, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you might disappear, and he held onto you like you were the only person able to keep him safe.

He didn’t need to be told twice—he knew what he had to do to make things right.

You leaned back on the mattress, spreading your legs just enough to invite him closer, and watched his hands shake a little as they slid up your thighs.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. He was trying to be tough, but you could see through it. The man was already lost in you, in the need to make you feel good to make up for his earlier bullshit.

No, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; the way he now nearly ripped off the rest of your clothes was almost urgent.

"Goddamn," he whispered, his eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of you. "So fuckin’ beautiful."

His hands were trembling as he reached for your bra, fumbling with it before finally getting it off. He slid it off your shoulders, throwing it over to your pants on the floor, his eyes never leaving your breasts.

Daryl’s mouth went dry as he leaned in, his lips stopping just above one nipple. "Can’t believe yer lettin’ me touch ya like this," he whispered, more to himself than to you. Then he closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue moving over it, making you gasp.

He sucked and licked, using his teeth just a little, sliding them lightly against it, while his other hand was pinching and rolling the other.

"Fuck, Daryl," you groaned, your hands moving through his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts like they were the most important things in the world. "Don’t stop."

He growled against your skin and kept going; he kept sucking, licking, and teasing until your nipples were swollen and hard, sensitive to every little touch.

He soon pulled back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple before it broke, and he greedily licked over it once more. His eyes were full with need, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you, like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

"You’re going to be a good boy and keep worshipping me?" You asked, your voice teasing and commanding him at the same time.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please… Need t’…"

"Then do it," you ordered, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, moving along your hips before coming to a stop between your legs. His fingers brushed against your pussy, finding you already wet and wanting, and he let out a growl.

He started slowly, almost with hesitation, like he was worshipping at some holy altar. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, soft at first, but when you grabbed his hair again, he got the message. His mouth found your pussy the moment he ripped off your panties, and it was as if a switch flipped.

Daryl buried his face between your legs, his tongue working desperately, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let out a moan, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding him but also keeping him under your control.

"Fuck, Daryl," you breathed out. "Just like that."

And he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was focused on you—on the taste of you, the way you trembled when he hit just the right spot. He was completely at your mercy, with the need to prove himself to make you proud.

You could feel him moan against you and how he was getting lost in it, in you. You knew he was desperate for more, desperate for any sign that he was doing good and that you’d forgive him. But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Not yet, at least.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get him away from you, and he looked up at you, his lips wet and parted, already missing the taste of you. "Please," he growled out, and you could see the need to do more, to have more of you.

"You keep listening to me. You understand?" You asked, caressing his head gently.

"Yeah," he stammered and nodded in return.

You pushed his head back down, with his tongue slipping inside your pussy almost immediately, like he was trying to eat out every bit of forgiveness he could get.

And fuck, did it feel good. The way he was eating out your pussy, every little move of his tongue, the way he sucked on your clit just hard enough to make you see stars—it was like he was made for this, made to worship you.

"Fuck, don’… don’ make me stop," he growled out in between. He was trembling now, hands still gripping your hips tightly, his eyes wide with something that seemed close to panic, like he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

But you leaned down, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You want to make this right? You wait until I’m ready."

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, his eyes pleading without a word and barely holding it together. He was ready to do anything you asked, to wait as long as you wanted him to, just for a chance to taste you again.

"Good boy," you moaned, suddenly pulling him up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. He kissed you like he was starved for it, holding on for dear life.

And you could feel how hard he was—the desperate twitching of his already leaking cock against your thigh—but you weren’t done teasing him yet. "You’re doing so good, Daryl. Go on now."

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"What did you just call me?" You asked in shock and froze.

Daryl’s eyes widened in shock and panic. "Didn’t mean t’ say that," he said, his voice trembling. "I jus’—"

"Say it again," you commanded, cutting him off. "Say it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking around as if searching for an escape, but he knew he couldn’t hide from you. "Yes, mommy," he whispered quietly, a shiver running through him as he said the word again.

But you didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to the floor. "Good boy," you simply answered. "Go on…"

He didn’t hesitate, his hands following the curves of your body again, his lips following close behind. He kissed down your neck, in between your breasts, along your stomach as he moved lower, his hands soon enough sliding up your thighs and over your pussy.

"Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening as he realized just how ready you were for him. "Yer so fuckin’ wet."

He didn’t say anything else, too focused on what he was doing. His fingers moved through your wet folds, teasing you until you were trembling with need, and he circled your clit with his thumb slowly on purpose, watching your face for every little reaction.

And one moan—that was all he needed. He leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue sliding over your clit, licking and sucking it gently all over. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry, and took his time.

"Fuck, Daryl," you moaned, your fingers gripping his hair, holding him in place as he devoured you. "That’s it… don’t stop."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kept going, kept licking, sucking, and teasing until you were right on the edge and close to coming.

The control he was giving you made you feel powerful, and hell, if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

"Please, mommy," he begged. "Lemme make ya cum now."

"Keep going," you commanded, feeling yourself getting closer due to his words. "Don’t stop. Oh, fuck…"

He obeyed, and when you finally came, you gasped and moaned, your body arching and trembling under the force of it. But as soon as you began to come down from your orgasm, you noticed how he started to get more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips harder. He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours as he moved back up.

"Wanna fuck ya," he growled almost primal, grabbing his cock and pushing it against your pussy.

But you shoved him back. "Not so fast," you said. "You’re going to do it my way."

He looked at you with frustration and desperation. "But… I need ya," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "Please!"

You didn’t give in. Instead, you watched as he tried to hold himself back. "If you want more, you’re going to have to do it my way, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Yeah, ‘kay," he murmured and nodded, his voice trembling.

"Not yet," you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft. The hardness of his cock was pulsing against your hand, and you enjoyed the power it gave you. "You’re going to wait a little longer."

Daryl’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tried to control himself. "Please," he begged, his voice raw and desperate. "Need it."

You only smiled, slowly stroking him, your movements maddeningly slow. "You want more?" You teased, leaning closer to him. "You want me to keep going? To make you cum already as well?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! Please, mommy. Can’t take it no more!"

You took your time, each move up and down his shaft, making him moan and writhe.

"Fuck, don’ stop," he groaned. "Please, I can’t—"

"Hush now," you interrupted, squeezing his cock. "You’re going to wait until I say so. If you want to be a good boy, you’ll follow my instructions."

Daryl’s cock was coated in his pre-cum and throbbing in your hand, and every time you squeezed just a little harder, he would shiver, his voice breaking into pleas and whimpers.

"Please… ‘M so close," he whimpered. "Can’t hold back much longer."

You looked down at him, smirking, and then you jerked him faster and harder, bringing him right to the edge. His body was tense and almost painfully trying to hold off his orgasm.

"Daryl," you said softly, your hand driving him mad. "I want you to beg for it. Just a little bit more."

His pleas turned into desperate murmurs as he struggled with himself. "Please… Need t’… Jus’ let me... Oh fuck!"

With a final pump, you brought him right to the very edge again, feeling his cock throbbing against your palm. Then, just when you could see he was about to break, you pulled back, stopping altogether.

Daryl let out a whimper, his eyes desperate. "Fuck, please… Need it."

You leaned in close, kissing his neck. "Not yet. I want you to really feel it, to know how much you need me."

"Please," he begged again. "Please..."

"Tell me how much you need it," you smiled at him.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Need it so bad, mommy, please... Need t’ cum for ya. Need ya..."

You gave him one final, hard stroke, and then you stopped again, making him groan and tremble over you, the muscles in his arms tensing up painfully hard. "Good boy," you whispered, finally giving him permission to slide into your pussy, just not all the way.

"No further," you said. "Just the tip. Hold it back."

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets next to you on the mattress. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Lemme fuck ya..."

You ignored his pleas, your hand still pumping up and down his shaft. "Say it," you commanded. "Say you’re my good boy, Daryl."

"‘M yer good boy," he mumbled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Finally, when you could see the look on his face—the way he was practically begging to come—you leaned in. "You want it now?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, mommy..."

His cock was pulsing, the tip pressing into you just enough to make him groan but not enough to give him what he wanted.

You watched as a sudden tear rolled down his cheek—a single, small, and tiny drop. The sight of it—so rare for someone like Daryl—made you widen your eyes. You could see the complete surrender—the way he was completely at your mercy.

Without warning, you pushed against him, taking him all the way in, and made him cry out, his body shuddering as he filled you up and feeling your pussy stretch around his cock. The look of shock and ecstasy on his face was too much, even for you. His eyes widened, his lips parting slightly, and his cock was pulsing inside you, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck! Fuck…"

And the moment you took him in fully, he came hard inside of you with a loud groan, his body trying to push in as deep as possible as he reached his orgasm, while you held him close, feeling the last of his cum filling you up as he finished.

You soon lay there, your body still tingling, but Daryl, on the other hand, was a mess after he quickly pulled out of you. Now his walls were coming back up, and he was doing his best to act like he didn’t need a damn thing from you.

He was trying to play it cool, turning his face away, still shaking a little bit. "Jus’… gotta go," he mumbled, trying to shove you away. "Don’ need ya all up in m’ shit now."

"Oh, come on. You can’t be serious," you smirked, running a finger teasingly down his chest.

He glared at you, trying to push you away once more. "‘M fine. Jus’ leave me ‘lone," he grumbled.

"Look at you, all tough and cold again. But you were begging for it only a minute ago." You let your hand move over his skin, feeling his muscles twitch. "And now you’re just going to be an ass about it? Not a chance."

He froze as you touched him. "Shut up," he snapped. "Don’t need yer damn pity."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in close. "Pity? This isn’t pity, Daryl."

He tried to pull away again, but you held him close, your hands moving up to his chin. You tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

"Seriously?" You said with a smile. "You’re going to act like a brat now? After everything?" You moved closer, teasing him with a kiss on his lips.

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second, and you felt him shudder under your touch. "Fuck off," he muttered, but it was sounding rather weak, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You laughed, cupping his chin more firmly. "Make me. Or... maybe you really are just a brat who needs to be put in his place all over again."

He shivered as he fought with himself. "No… Don’ need this," he mumbled, but it was clear he was losing the battle against himself. His voice was getting quieter, and he knew that he was failing miserably.

Then, you finally met his lips with yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss, with you wanting to give him reassurance. He moaned against them, the sound full of desperation.

When you pulled back, you saw how his eyes were wide, and he suddenly nuzzled up against you, his face buried in your neck, his body trembling as if he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his defenses.

"‘M so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his voice breaking. "Didn’ mean t’... I jus’—"

You ran your fingers through his hair, cuddling him closer as he clung to you. "Quiet," you whispered, putting your lips against his forehead. "It’s okay."

He wrapped his arms around you, his grip a little rough as if he was afraid you might slip away. "I fucked up," he said. "Almos’ got m’self killed an’ hurt ya. ‘M so damn sorry."

You held him close, his body pressed against yours. "I know," you said softly. "But you’re still alive, Daryl."

But the moment of calm was ruined when Daryl’s body tensed up again, with him starting to sob violently.

"Shit," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "‘M such a fuckin’ asshole. Messed everythin’ up. Could’ve died an’—"

You shushed him, holding him even tighter, pressing kisses to his temples. You didn’t say much, letting your actions speak louder than any words even could.

He kept mumbling apologies, his sobs so intense that they shook his whole body. "Ain’t good ‘nough. ‘M worthless. Jus’ a useless piece o’ shit," he sobbed further, his voice cracking.

You gently cupped his face again, lifting it so you could look into his wet eyes. Slowly, you wiped the tears away with your thumbs, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been rolling down.

"Hush," you whispered softly. "You’re not a useless piece of shit. You’re not worthless. You made a mistake, but you’re here, and you’re alive. That’s what matters."

He needed to hear that you weren’t disappointed and that you still loved him despite everything.

Daryl looked up at you, his eyes all red and swollen, but his sobbing began to calm down. And as he finally started to relax, his grip on you softened, but he didn’t let go. He was still clinging to you, needing you to remind him that he was loved and that he was enough.

"Thanks," he whispered quietly. "For… everythin’."

You smiled to yourself, playing with his hair. "Anytime," you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the top of his head.

You didn’t need to say anything more; your arms around him were enough to help him find his way back to feeling okay. The walls he’d built were finally down, and for now, he was just Daryl—raw and in need of someone to help him piece himself back together.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[soapssuds]

Can you write a oneshot or drabble where reader gives Capitano a diamond encrusted cock ring as a joke, but he actually decides to use it 🫣. Ur smutty fics are fucking gold btw <3

+18, smut, mdni, etc

sorry for the wait 💞 thank you for requesting and liking my stuff!!

It was when you were summoned to Capitano's office that you thought that maybe, just maybe, you took your joke too far. Despite being in a healthy relationship with the Captain, you always had a tendency to mess around with him (mainly because you knew he wouldn't do any harm to you). When with the Captain, you felt like you could be yourself.

Though maybe giving him a pretty cock ring was a bit too far especially considering that it did cost a bit much out of your pocket due to the diamonds that were carefully encrusted into it.

Nervously wiping your sweaty hands off your pants, you were about to announce yourself from outside his office door, but was quickly silenced when you heard him moan.

Opening the door in a haste, you were instantly frozen still. Your eyes befallen upon a shirtless Capitano. His chest heaving up and down, his pants and underwear pulled slightly down for his cock to spring free and there, jeweled around his hefty length was the cock ring you gifted him as a joke.

"Shut the door, and come here."

Too dazed at the sight before you, you mindlessly listened to him, and even went an order more and locked the door before going to him.

"On your knees."

Again, you listened to him even going so far as shifting in-between his legs, getting comfortable as you rested your cheek against his thigh. Your focus on his leaking cock rather than on his face.

"You need to learn what a real joke is, until then, open your mouth. I need to discipline that brattiness out of you."

[thenickgirl]

LIGHT SHOWER

bf!nick x male!reader

summary: in which reader and nick have a little fun in the shower

type: oneshot ✩ genre: smut ✩ pov: 2nd person ✩ word count: 1.5k

warnings: halfway proofread, use of y/n, use of pet names, swearing, rimming, fingering, oral and anal sex, choking, overstimulation, some degradation if you squint, bottom!nick x top!reader

a/n: good evening whores (affectionate)! it’s been ages since my last fic, and i am so sorry for that. my health wasn’t up to par so my motivation plummeted, but i’m better and i’m ready to start back writing again. idk if this will hit like my first fic, but i hope you like it. happy reading! ✩

“I missed you so much.” You mumble as you hug your boyfriend’s waist tightly, your head buried in his neck. Nick had just arrived back home from visiting his family in Boston for almost a month. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” He teases, wrapping his arms around your neck. “Never leave me for that long again,” you pout. “Oh you big baby,” Nick laughs before gasping as you lift him up by his thighs, and he instantly secures himself by hooking his legs around your waist.

“Y/n, if you drop me, motherfucker-“

“When have I ever dropped you, my love?” you cut him off as you walk towards the stairs, carrying him up to your shared bedroom. You gently place the brunette down on the bed, hovering over him as you kiss his lips softly. “I definitely missed that,” Nick blushes, pecking your lips again before pushing you off of him and sitting up.

“So how was the flight from Boston?” you ask as you sit up next to him. “Fucking awful, so many things happened. First, I need a long hot shower,” he says standing up, and walking towards the dresser drawer to get a night shirt and boxers. “Mind if I join you, baby?” you ask, raising your eyebrow playfully. Nick whips his head around to look at you, biting his lip, “I would love that actually.”

—

“Thank you for washing my hair, I knew having a tall boyfriend would come in handy one day.” He chuckles as you wash the conditioner from his hair. “I knew you were taking advantage of me,” you utter, pretending to be hurt. “Oh shut up,” he hits you playfully before wrapping his arms around your neck, pulling you close. “I really missed you,” he whispers against your lips. “Yeah?” you smile, your arms snaking around his waist.

“Mhm,” Nick hums before connecting your lips in a heated kiss.

Your mouths move together hungrily as your hands trail down to his bare ass, squeezing roughly and he gasps, giving you access to slide your tongue into his mouth, causing him to moan. After a few minutes, the brunette pulls away, his soft lips trail down to your neck, sucking and biting at your skin, and you tilt your head giving him more access. He leaves marks on your neck, and you bite your lip at the feeling. He continues to move further down, kissing along your chest, his tongue drawing circles around your nipples.

“Fuck Nick..,” you whisper breathlessly. He kisses his way down your stomach as he gets on his knees, his large hands on your thighs as his icy blue eyes stare into yours. Without breaking eye contact, he grabs your semi hard cock in his hand, stroking you slowly.

You groan at the feeling, locking eyes with the brunette on his knees for you. Nick sticks his tongue out, licking around your tip painfully slow. “Don’t fucking tease,” you growl and he smirks, before wrapping his plump lips around you. His warm tongue swirls around your length as he sucks on your tip. He takes you into his mouth, bobbing his head back and forth, and your eyes roll back. Continuing his movements, he takes more of you into his mouth, and your hand finds its way into his hair. You pull on his strands, bucking your hips into his mouth. He moans when he feels your tip hitting the back of his throat.

“Shit baby, you look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” you praise him, pushing his head down further and he gags around you.

You grab his face pulling him up before kissing him roughly. You push him up against the cold shower wall, and he moans in your mouth. You pull away from the kiss, his bottom lip between your teeth until it snaps back into place. “Turn around, let me see that cute little ass of yours,” you demand, smirking. Nick grins before turning around, bending over slightly, his ass brushing against your cock.

“Always a fucking tease,” you say slapping his ass and he yelps.

Lowering down to your knees, you spread his cheeks before circling your tongue around his hole. Nick bites his lip, whimpering softly. You kiss and lick at his entrance, before sliding your tongue inside. “Mm fuck yes,” he moans out. Nick bends over more, pushing his ass against your face as your tongue laps at his hole over and over. You smack his ass cheek as you continue eating him out.

After a few minutes you pull away, carefully sliding two fingers inside of him. He groans as your fingers pump in and out. Your fingers move faster inside of him, curling and brushing against his sweet spot. “Oh my goddd, fuck, I need you please,” he begs desperately. You spread your fingers, scissoring them to open him up more. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you senseless, pretty boy?” you tease as you pull your fingers away, standing up and pressing your leaking cock against him. “Yes please, I want it so bad,” Nick pleads, wanting nothing more than you deep inside of him.

Stroking yourself slowly, you take your length and line it up with his hole before carefully sliding into him. You let out a deep groan, it had been so long since you felt him around you. “So fucking tight baby,” you whisper as you begin thrusting into him. Nick moans, and the sound alone could make you cum right then and there. Grabbing his hips, you pick up the pace, your bodies moving perfectly together. “Fuck y/n, mmph feels so good,” your boyfriend’s moans and whimpers bounce around the shower walls.

“Yeah, you like getting fucked like this, don’t you? My pretty little slut,” you growl in his ear and he only whimpers in response.

“I asked you a question,” you growl, grabbing him by his throat from behind, as you fuck up into him deeper. “Yes yes fuck, I love it, I love your cock so much,” he cries out, his eyes rolling back as you hit his prostate repeatedly. “Good boy, such a good little slut for me,” you praise as you continue fucking him senseless.

“Right there, right there. Please don’t stop, I'm so close,” the brunette moans your name over and over. You take his length in your hand and start stroking him slowly. “Oh ohh god, I’m cumming” he groans as his cum hits the glass shower wall. Your hand continues to move on his length, milking every drop, and his body shudders. “S-so sensitive, please I can't,” he whines.

Pulling out of him, you turn him around to face you and you lift him up and against the wall by his thighs. “Be a good boy and give me one more, yeah?” you say, lining yourself with his hole again and he nods in response. You press your lips against his hungrily as you slide into him again, your mouths moving together sloppily. Nick moans into your mouth as you slam into him, your large hands gripping his thighs roughly. You break the kiss to nip at his neck, leaving marks for you to fight about later. “Y/n…” he says breathlessly as you fuck him slow and deep, his legs wrap around your waist drawing you closer.

“I know baby, I know,” you moan softly, moving faster as his back arches.

“Ohh oh fuck, I’m gonna cum again. Please don’t stop,” he pants as he strokes his length, feeling the knot in his stomach about to come undone. “Shit baby, make a mess all over me,” you groan, hitting his sweet spot again and again as you feel your own high approaching. He cums over you both as you cum inside of him. You hold each other as you both come down from your high.

“I really really fucking missed that,” Nick says, and you both chuckle. You set him back on his feet, placing your hands on his waist when he stumbles a bit. Taking the soap and your respective wash cloths, you clean each other up, stopping periodically to share kisses. After you are both clean and ready to get out, you dry off and head to your bedroom to get dressed into something comfortable.

Nick sighs as he lays back on the bed. “I think you wore me out,” he says, and you chuckle as you plop down next to him. “Well let’s just order food, and then you can tell me all about your crazy airport stories,” you suggest, grabbing your phone. “Yes, I’m starving, but god please no In n Out,” he lets out a disgusted groan. “Whatever you want, pretty.” you chuckle.

“I’m so happy to be back,” he hums, rolling on to his side to wrap his arms around you. You smile sweetly, kissing the top of his head.

“Me too”

────

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: i tried to format it a little better so it looks more like a fic. thanks to my pookie for the help with that. i’m so excited to get back to writing. your feedback is more than welcome, but always remember that i like to fight, so keep it cute. love ya! ☺️

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @sturnioloslvtt @nickssidewitch @nicksbestie @sturniolossss @imsosillygoofylol @moonk1ss3d @soursturniolo @savvyratatouille @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo @dumbf2ck@peiivnao @angelcake-222 @hoeforchrizz @lelesturniolo @conspiracy-ash @maliaforstvrns @eli-sturniolo @a13ssandr4 @nicksgirlfriend @asherrisrandom

[pitchsidestories]

all's well that ends well II Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2010

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy the full length oneshot to the snippet we posted last week. 🫶🏻

“You!”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly at the end of the question.

You didn’t care.

There was no way, she was actually here. You had heard the rumours but hadn’t believed any of it. And now she was actually here, right in front of your eyes, on the Chelsea training grounds.

She actually did it.

You watched her through narrowed eyes, subconsciously clenching your jaw.

She smiled brightly at you: “Yes, me. Good morning to you too, pretty girl.“

There it was, that typical smug smile. Lucy Bronze, just like you wanted to forget her.

“Don’t call me that.“, you warned her.

Bad enough that she was here, you didn’t need her stupid remarks.

She remained unbothered, teasing you some more: “Oh, someone woke up in a bad mood.“

“No, only still stuck in a nightmare called Lucy Bronze.“, you replied, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her in the blue Chelsea training shirt.

From the look on her face she clearly interpreted it as you checking her out.

You cringed.

“A nightmare, huh?”, she repeated with a grin.

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid self-assured smile off her face.

“Dressed in Chelsea colours. Why did you come back? And of all clubs you had to choose mine?!”

You half-expected her to crack another joke but instead, her face turned serious.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t come here for you. I came for what the club had to offer.“

“In other words, Barca didn’t want you anymore.“, you taunted her.

You watched, waiting to see her face fall but it never did. She just cocked her head and replied: “Cold. But essentially yes, they didn’t guarantee me a spot in the starting squad so I left.“

Before you could stop yourself, you released a humourless laugh.

Following Lucys confused look, you explained: “You always leave when it gets uncomfortable. See you on the pitch.“

You turned around and took exactly two steps towards the football pitch before you heard Lucy catching up to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you really think that you don’t know me well enough.“, she asked, her voice finally conveying some anger.

“Oh, I do know you.“, you shrugged and left her standing on the sideline of the pitch, joining your teammates for the warm-up.

To your surprise, she jogged up next to you, clearly not done with the conversation yet. “Sure. Of course you know me better than I know myself. You’ve always been such a know-it-all.“

You huffed in offence but before you could protest, she increased her pace and left your side.

In her place, Sam Kerr appeared with a curious look on her face: “Wait, you and Bronzey got history?”

“Yes, it was a long time ago though and I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”, you revealed reluctantly.

“Aw man, I love a good break up story.”, the Australian forward replied pouting.

“I know you do Sammy, but you won’t hear that one.”, you told her.

“I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”, she declared confidently.

“Don’t you dare asking Lucy about us.”, you warned your teammate.

“I’m sure she’ll tell me.”, Sam responded winking.

Much to her actual surprise the English defender did open up towards her, once it was just the two of them in an empty room.

“Our story is quick to tell we were together for quite a while, I went to another club, so we tried to do long distance, yet it didn’t work out.”

“And she thinks it’s your fault?”, Sam questioned.

“Obviously and she’s talking about comfortable all she has ever known is English football.”, the older woman shrugged.

The forward took a moment to think about what she just said before humming. “Oh, this is going to be a very interesting season.”

“Admittedly, I did a few things wrong in the past and there isn’t much I regret but these I do.” Memories of the moment Lucy regretted the most passed behind her inner eye.

“That’s too much information. I didn’t come for a deep dive.”, Sam intervened chuckling.

“Come on girls, don’t dally.”, Millie who stood in the doorframe called for them.

“She thinks she has something to say around here now that she has an honours doctorate.”, the forward rolled her eyes playfully.

“We’re ready, Doctor Bright.”, the dark-haired defender reassured the blonde with a teasing grin on her lips.

“Good to hear, Doctor Bronze.”, Millie answered happily.

A few days had passed since your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. During and post training you tried your best to ignore her. You were about to leave the Chelsea grounds, but a familiar voice held you back.

“Can we talk?”

“Now?”, you wanted to know.

“Yes.”, Lucy nodded.

“Fine, but be quick, I don’t have much time.”, you stated in an icy tone crossing your arms impatiently.

“Then you’ve to make some time.”, she emphasized.

“What do you want to talk about?”, you asked short-temperedly.

“About us. This is getting ridiculous. How’re we supposed to play together when you ignore me all the time?”, the defender countered eagerly awaiting your response.

The late afternoon light enhanced her tan, and her green eyes were glowing. You couldn’t help to admire the woman in front of you, but when you remembered what happened between you two and acid formed in your mouth, so you spat out words as cruel as the taste of that. Sentences you knew would hurt her.

“You’re less quick and sharp nowadays. Also how am I supposed to trust you on and off the pitch?”

Lucy blinked at you. Her face frozen, not slightest slip. Shaking her head, she replied: “You really have a way of making someone feel welcome here.“

“I’m normally more welcoming to our new signings… making sure they settle well into London…“

You stopped yourself from continuing and bit your lip. Why did you now feel the need to prove to her that your were actually good person?

“But not to me, I got it.“, she said, almost reading your exact next thought. She should know that you didn’t welcome her here.

“You’re a whole different story.“, you said plainly.

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of her arms crossed in front of herself. The little hairs stood up, small bumps forming around them. She had goosebumps.

“You’ll need a jacket. The evenings can already get cold.“, you advised her, trying to let no empathy seep through.

At once, you felt glad that you remembered to wear a long-sleeved shirt to training. You absentmindedly pulled the sleeves over your hands.

Your ex just rolled her eyes: “You act like I’ve never been to England.“

“You’re freezing. I can see that from here.“

“Yeah, this is obviously not Barcelona. But I’m not new here.“, she replied with clear annoyance.

You refused to let her have the point. “True but you never played in London though.“

“No, I didn’t.“

“See.“

It was petty but you won. You turned to walk away from her like you had done so many times in the past few days but again she wouldn’t let you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in one swift movement.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here.“

You sighed in frustration: “I won’t ignore you in training anymore. Happy?”

“No.“

“There’s more?”, you frowned at her.

“Of course, it’s not done with that.“

Eyebrows raised, you waited for an explanation: “So?”

“We should talk about us too. And what happened.“, she suggested.

Your heart stopped for a second, your lungs felt deprived of air and you couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a second. There was no way you would bring that break up back again. You both knew how it had ended.

“Another time, okay?”

“Y/n…“

You forced yourself to a half-smile: “See you tomorrow.“

You found yourself in the starting line-up for the next friendly at Stamford Bridge. You would be playing on the right wing, in front of Lucy. And despite all your doubts, the game went well.

More than well, to be honest. It was like you had never been apart. Lucys typical runs forward gave you the opportunity to move towards the centre and position yourself in the penalty areas. One of her crosses was so precise that you only had to tilt your head to put the ball into the net.

“Amazing game, girls. The season is off to a great start.“, Millie cheered as she high-fived you way too hard.

“Yeah, thanks for the assist, Luce.“

“You’re welcome. I still know your movements on the pitch.”, Lucy waved it off while the look on her face was melancholic. There was a hint of fondness in her voice too.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about your playing style.”, you bit your lip guiltily.

“I know.”, the defender sounded almost amused.

“Good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry.”, the older woman added quickly.

“Bye Luce.”

“See you, y/n.”, Lucy watched you go with a sad smile.

“Lucy? You two are so weird.”, Millie tapped on the dark-haired defender’s shoulder.

Irritated she turned around to face her team’s captain. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you finally talk about it?”, the blonde asked frustrated.

“I try to, but she always runs away.”, the older player explained annoyed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out for you.”, Millie promised.

And the Chelsea captain stayed true to her words.

It was the next day when you found yourself locked in a room with your ex-girlfriend.

“Sam, Erin, that’s not funny, let us out!”, you commanded, hammering your hands against the door. You felt like a mouse stuck in a trap.

“Do you hear anything, Erin?”, you heard the Australian ask the Scottish midfielder. The reply wasn’t audible to your ears because Lucy had started to speak.

“They’ll open the door again once we talked about us.”

“That’s so childish of them. To talk about us? That’s history.”, you grumbled.

“Of course. It’s obviously not history for you if you keep pouting about it.”, the defender observed

“I’m not pouting, I’m so over you at this point.”, you corrected her.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”, your former lover sounded unconvinced.

“You really broke my heart back then.”, you confessed quietly, your voice full of the sadness and hurt from days in the past when the breakup was still fresh like a open wound you thought would never heal.

“I didn’t do anything.”, she remarked calmly.  

“Yes, you did you left.”, you disagreed fiercely.

“I left because I had to. After you assured me, long distance would work.”, Lucy defended herself.

A grieving smirk appeared on your face, you remembered your old self, what a fool she has been. “I thought it would, but it didn’t that happens.”

“Yes, it happens. So, stop blaming me for leaving it was a mutual decision.”

“It wasn’t your fault- Cam we leave now?”, you directed the question towards the people who kept you in that room.

“Nope, you know what we want to hear.”, Sam declared grinning.

“Lucy, what does she want from us?”, you wanted to know.

“I’ve no idea., she admitted before continuing, we won’t get back together, Sam. That won’t work.”

“Exactly.”, you added quickly.

“That’s not what we want. Keep talking and you’ll see.”, the forward insisted.

“What if we begin again? Like we just met for the first time.”, Lucy suggested.

“Wait, what?”, you frowned.

“We can start over.”, she offered in a hopeful tone.

“You mean as in strangers who get to know each other?”

“Maybe.” , she nodded knowing fully well you’d never be a stranger to her.

“And we don’t know where this leads to?”, you felt your heart flutter against your chest, the door was open again and you both stepped into the unknowing. The past was the past the future was uncertain, all you could influence was the present.

All's well that ends well. Yet this was only the beginning and the closing of one chapter of your relationship.

[sunflowerwinds]

kiss it better [h.c]

summary: after receiving one too many hits in the fight club, hazel tends to your cuts. you test to see if kissing a cut really makes it heal faster.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, slight violence and blood, hazel being a little cocky flirt, making out, extremely light choking if you squint, reader is smitten.

word count: 1.5K

a/n: based on this request, i wrote a little oneshot for you guys. i’m obsessed with this. also thank you guys for over 100 followers and for all the support and kind words. i hope you all enjoy <3

When you heard about this women empowering fight club, you didn’t expect to actually get beat up. Hazel had approached you in the hallway randomly asking if you wanted to join. Having the most insanely massive crush on Hazel, you agreed like a pathetic idiot. You thought it was going to be practicing on some dummies or punching bags. Not actually throwing punches, kicking and wrestling your friends and peers.

It was the third day and you and Sylvie were in the circle. You had already fought against Isabel and PJ and that had gotten some pretty good punches to your stomach and jaw. You were nervous beyond belief as Sylvie scared you in some ways but all the girls were encouraging the both of you to just take a swing. You shake your hands out and crack your neck as you prepare for anything.

If it was Hazel, at least you could have her hands on you. Sure, it might be a slap or punch but it’ll be from her and not Sylvie.

“C’mon guys. Someone has to punch first,” you heard PJ shout.

Sucking in a long breath and clenching your fist, not wanting to stretch out the tension for much longer. You swung at Sylvies cheek. The contact burned throughout your knuckles all the way to your elbow, muttering curses to yourself. Sylvie held her cheek where you punched, everyone gasping at the sudden blow.

You freeze, waiting for some sort of rebuttal. Sylvie then quickly bops her fist three times to your bottom lip and then the apple of your left cheek. You jerk back at the punches that were thrown. The entire group cheers with a mixture of ‘oohs’ at you tripping over your own shoe-laces, falling to the ground.

You scrunch up your face to in some way ease the pain that was flooding from cheek to cheek. You feel someone kneel down next to you and you look up to see Hazel checking on you.

You raise a hand to feel over your bottom lip to see the deep crimson dripping down the length of your features. Suddenly, everyone was clamoring around your laid out body.

“Shit, are you okay?” Hazel was the first to ask.

You nod and glance at the way she was merely inches from your face. You tense up and sit up slowly, everyone backing up from you except for Hazel.

“God, Sylvie, it was light punching today.” PJ sighed, rubbing at her temple. “You almost knocked her fucking teeth out.”

“Shit, I-I’m sorry. Light punching,” she slowly nodded, glancing over at you. “Got it.”

“I’m alright, guys. Don’t worry about it,” you nod but as soon as you stand up on your feet, your head begins to throb.

Hazel seemed to notice your discomfort and placed a hand on your clothed shoulder.

“I’ll take her to the restroom to, uh, get cleaned up. Someone else go.” Hazel motioned towards the group with her black spiral notebook before jerking her head towards the bathroom.

PJ and Josie seemed to glance at each other knowingly before shouting for someone else to fight against Sylvie. You followed Hazel to the girls locker room in the gym, rolling your bloody lip into your mouth. The metallic taste made you wince.

For a moment, you felt Hazel’s palm on your lower back as she led you to the sink. She grabbed a small hand towel and ran it under the tap. You could hear the echoing of everyone’s shoes squeaking and bodies hitting the ground.

“Hazel, you don’t have to do this. I can clean up this on my own,” you protest but in reality, you knew the second she put her hands on your face, you would flush an embarrassingly deep red.

“I know but I don’t know, you had already taken some blows from fucking Brittany and Josie so I wanted to help.” Hazel confessed, lifting her head up from the running water. “To make sure you’re okay.”

She cares about me? You didn’t even think that Hazel saw you as a friend, let alone someone she cared about. You had only spoken very few words outside of the club in the one shared class.

“I’m a big girl, you know? I just got thrown off guard. Sylvie wasn’t joking with those punches.” You force out a nervous chuckle, fiddling with your bitten nails.

“Still, I wanna help you.” She emphasized, clutching onto the damp towel to ring a majority of the water out. “Can you sit on that bench, please?”

You looked down to attempt to hide your blush. You push your body off the wall to walk over to the red bench, sitting down as you were told. You were thanking all the Gods above that Hazel could not see you shamelessly checking her out from behind. How was her even back profile hot?

You hear her turn off the tap, removing your stare from her beck side and glancing down at your shoes. You feel her hand grab the underside of your jaw, her thumb accidentally pressing into the bruise that was forming from Josie’s swing. You wince and she whispers a soft ‘sorry’, readjusting her hold.

She began to dab the towel onto your puffy and bleeding lip, her face centimeters from yours now. Your eyes stared at the furrow in between her brows as she focused on not pressing too harshly onto the open wound.

“Are you, like, my nurse now?” You break the silence, your words forming a lisp as she was pressing onto your lip.

Hazel cracked a small grin, eyes locking with yours. She shrugged her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath.

“I do have experience of tending to wounds when I would get my ass kicked when I sparred,” Hazel released your face, the now bloodied-towel in her other hand.

“Ah, okay, gotcha,” you nod, reaching a hand up to touch your lip but Hazel was quick to snatch your wrist.

“Don’t touch it. You haven’t washed your hands.” Hazel lightly chuckled.

You blushed, embarrassment flooding through your veins.

“You can’t risk that pretty lip of yours to get even more fucked up with an infection,” Hazel continued to dab at the area for a couple more seconds.

Your eyes widened at what she had just said, trying to keep your cool. Your hand gripped onto the bench, your knuckles turning white. She just said it so nonchalantly. It caught you off guard.

“You think my lips are pretty?” You whisper, your eyes flickering from each of her pretty eyes.

Hazel set the towel on the bench, looking at you with a small smile.

“Yeah,” she nodded as she sat down next to you now, your shoulders brushing. “I think everything about you is pretty.”

Your hands are twiddling with each other as you take in the compliment. You hadn’t said anything yet as you didn’t know what to say to her. Compliments didn’t come your way as often as you desired so when that rare occasion came around, it made you awkward beyond belief.

Hazel whispers your name to get your attention and you lift your head up, turning your neck to face her. In the blink of an eye, her hands are cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a delicate kiss. You gasp but move your lips against hers, a hand holding at her elbow.

You pulled back to whisper, “I thought I wasn’t supposed to touch my cut.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Hazel hummed, her thumb brushing against your cheek the forming bruise from where Sylvie had punched you.

“No,” you press your lips back onto yours, eager and inhaling at the feeling of her hand cupping your neck.

You let out the faintest of sounds as she squeezed lightly. Your hands caress at her arms as she continues to just rest her hand at your navel. The soft sounds of your panting and your lips connecting and disconnecting every once in a while was all your thoughts were filled with. Hazel smiles onto your lips before slipping her tongue past your bottom lip, a slightly metallic undertone from your cut lip.

“Wow,” you jumped away from Hazel’s lips at the sound of PJ’s voice.

Embarrassment floods through your system as the entire group was standing there in the locker room, a variation of reactions on everyone’s faces. Hazel wipes at her own lips, seeing a hint of red on her fingertips. She smiled to herself and looked up at everyone else.

“If you guys wanted to tongue fuck each other, you should’ve told us,” Josie stated with a grimace.

You groaned and rested your head on Hazel’s shoulder. “Alright, leave. We’ll be there in a second,” you tell everyone who scurried out of the locker room.

“Did you wanna… make-out some more or?” Hazel offered with a cheeky grin.

You chuckle and place a kiss on her cheek. “Take me out on a date and then we can.”

“We can do that.” Hazel nodded, her tongue prodding into her cheek.

Maybe you should get beat up more often.

taglist: @matchamilkislover @curiousshifter101 @imjustapearl @seethesin <33

[chuuyascumsock]

I am NOT a Sadist (I am) || Minors DNI

Summary; Sorry, not sorry. I love when there’s hurt feelings with emotional make-up sex :)

Tags; Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Female reader, Angst, Mentions Of Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I Totally Projected My Poor Communication Skills Onto The MC, Also Self Sabotaging, But She Gets Better I Swear, I Project A Lot Actually Lmao, Sounds Kind Of Like An Unhealthy Relationship At First But They Fix It, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, They Do Hurt Each Other’s Feelings A Little, Obviously There’s Crying, Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet Girl, etc.), Mention Of Phone Sex, Handjob, Fingering, Emotional Sex, Make-Up Sex, Creampie, Lowkey Breeding Kink If You Squint, Actually Pretty Vanilla For Once, Pussy Is Chuuya’s Therapy, Classic Missionary, Missionary Accomplished, Why Does No One Talk About Chuuya Going On His Overseas Trips And Leaving His S/O For Months At A Time, I Feel Like It’s Such A Good Angst Idea, My Longest Oneshot Yet Btw At A 5k Wordcount.

The honeymoon phase of your relationship with Chuuya ended quicker than you had anticipated. It felt like a slap in the face in all honesty, unexpecting of what you were really getting into as a normal civilian. Being married to an executive of the port mafia had its many upsides, yet no one really seemed to talk about the downsides and struggles of the mental toll that weighed on your conscience that came with the title as Chuuya’s wife. 

Chuuya had always been there when you needed him, and you were grateful that even with his rough exterior and conflict with opening up emotionally he could empathize with your varying issues and emotional outbursts. You tried not to be emotionally high maintenance for the sake of Chuuya already having so much on his plate, and things had seemed to be going well for the time being. 

Until he went away for his first overseas trip during your marriage. 

It was normal for Chuuya to take overseas trips while you were dating, some lasting a few days to a few weeks at most and during those times you often texted him throughout the day about how much you missed him before calling later on when he was lying exhausted in a hotel room to talk about how both of your days had gone. Of course, it had often led to phone sex, ending with the camera angled against a pillow while your fingers worked in and out of your neglected, needy pussy– your face buried into his pillow and smothering your senses with what was left of his presence in your apartment. And Chuuya would stroke his throbbing length at the sight with languid motions, thumb swiping over his leaking tip as he murmured through the speaker about how he wished he could be there to feel you split open on his cock and fill you up with his cum. And every time he came back from his trips, your relationship seemingly grew stronger from the distance, spending all his free time with you whenever he got the chance. 

And then Mori sent him away on a half year mission to Europe and everything seemed to go to shit. 

It was different when you had been dating as it was for a few days to some weeks at most, but a six-month excursion made your throat clench and your heart ache with saudade. You tried to keep a positive mindset, yet it was harder as each day had passed and Chuuya grew too tired from the days’ events to even call anymore. Messages on his side grew shorter and dull by the end of the third month, only sending a small good morning and good night text with the occasional ‘I love you’.  

Instead of bringing it up or attempting to fix it, you felt a sense of hopelessness and withdrew from him as well, not wanting to burden him with your spamming messages or feelings that could hinder him while dealing with an important mission. You spent the next three months stewing in a depressive state, loneliness eating away at you as you went day to day going to your job and coming back to an empty apartment. You stopped going out with your friends, stopped bothering to take care of yourself– completely ruining your sleeping and eating schedule in the process– leaving you with dark bags under your eyes and slightly paler looking complexion. You had grown so comfortable in Chuuya’s love and had no idea how to handle the situation you were in, fearing of saying something that would upset him. 

When Chuuya had come back, he hadn’t noticed the change in your behavior– too tired himself to see the toll his absence had taken on you. But to you, your straining relationship was apparent, and it only fueled your depression as Chuuya spent less time with you when he got back home than he used to when you were dating. He was either working on other missions given by Mori within the area or spent his free time sleeping. You barely felt as if you were married anymore, your relationship seeming more like roommates who rarely ever interacted every passing day.  

Your deteriorating mental health was beginning to wear your mind and patience thin, leading to a series of outbursts and fights between the two of you. You’d snap at him with an antagonizing start, and he’d finish with a frustrating end, either leaving to cool off or going to sleep on the couch. You could tell it was getting to him because he confronted you one day after he had mentioned that Mori was thinking about sending him on another grueling months-long overseas mission in America and you gave him the cold shoulder, closing yourself off from him. 

“What the hell has been your problem lately, huh? You’ve been acting shitty for the last few weeks and it’s really starting to get on my nerves,” He gripes, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he leans against the kitchen counter. 

“I don’t have a problem, you’re the one starting things,” You tiredly glare at the words in your novel, wanting to read and forget everything falling apart around you, but it’s hard when Chuuya persists.  

Chuuya scoffs, “Bullshit, you have this nasty attitude and it's been bothering the hell out of me– so what the hell is your problem?” He repeats, his eyes burning holes into the side of your apathetic expression from across the room.  

“Good thing you won’t have to deal with it for long, huh?” You respond flatly, avoiding his question once again. You and Chuuya have always had an issue with things like this due to him being blunt when he was upset about something while you tended to dance around it and drawl the problem on longer than it had to be than if you were to talk about your problems from the start. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” His jaw sets, teeth clenching behind his scowl, “You know it annoys the hell out of me when you say cryptic shit like that— answer my question.” Chuuya’s temper was something no one enjoyed testing and you once feared setting him off, but now you couldn’t find it in you to care whether he blew up on you or not. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your next mission?” You’re metaphorically poking more than just a bear at this point; this is an entire fucking lion you’re sticking your hand into the mouth of– waiting for it to rip you apart. 

Chuuya’s steps are heavy as he approaches you with a stern glare, “I’m not leaving until you tell me, I’m tired of these games, [name].”  

His words make you snort bitterly as you mock, “Yeah, okay– like you’re not just Mori’s lapdog– at his every beck and call.” You know he’d leave the minute Mori sent a text or called asking where he was. 

Chuuya’s face contorts in mild surprise and slight hurt at your words, not expecting you to stoop so low as to refer to him as a lapdog for Mori. “I really don’t know why the fuck you’re acting like this, but it’s seriously pissin’ me off. Can you just tell me what I supposedly did wrong to make you treat me like this? Because last time I checked, I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” His statement was ironic in the sense that him not doing anything was the problem.  

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale in spiteful amusement, though nothing was amusing about it, because you knew you were going to regret everything you said after the fight was over.  

“Of course, you didn’t,” There’s clear sarcasm in your tone, your hands now messing with the pages of your novel mindlessly. 

“Why won’t you just talk to me!? I can’t read your mind– how can I fix a problem when you won’t tell me what I did wrong?” He starts to raise his voice in frustration. You can see his fists clenching from the corners of your eyes. 

You only remove yourself further emotionally by shutting down completely. It was common for you to go completely non-verbal in any argument, the stress of the conflict physically affecting you in ways that kept you from speaking– like your throat tightening and tongue growing heavy in your mouth. This was another issue between you and Chuuya as he was the type to raise his voice whilst arguing to make himself and his feelings known, the complete opposite of yourself. 

An inkling of doubt buries in your chest as you begin to think that maybe you’re not as compatible with Chuuya as you thought you were. 

Chuuya notices your silence and he feels his impatience growing, his foot starting to tap against the floor with agitation as his hands fall to rest on his hips, “God dammit, [name], can you just tell me? I’m not in the mood to play detective and try to figure out why you’re playing your fucking games, I have shit to do.” 

You find it in you to respond, though it’s weak and filled with animosity, “You always have shit to do.” 

An exasperated sigh leaves Chuuya as he stands in front of you, “Is that what this is about? Because I have work? A job? Believe it or not, the mafia isn’t as lenient as to give me a day off, sweetheart,” He says sarcastically, throwing his hands up for emphasis. “Sorry that I have to serve an organization that will literally have my head if god forbid, I even thought about leaving!” 

“You don’t even spend time with me anymore when you do have time off,” You rasp, your eyes set on the crumbling pages underneath your fingertips. 

“I’m exhausted because I’m constantly working my ass off! Sorry that I can’t do fuck whatever and whenever like you can! Unlike you, I actually work for the things I want instead of sitting around and waiting for it to just fall into my lap!” Your brows furrow at his words, knowing it’s utter bullshit. But it still gets under your skin. 

You could easily quit your job and live off of the makings of what Chuuya has— he’s even offered the idea before— but you wanted to keep a sense of independence and to continue to be productive instead of a burden that burns cash. Your conclusion is that it was to get back at your lapdog comment. 

“And you know what? You have nothing to fuckin’ complain about because you get everything you want. Are you just bored? Is that why you’re starting shit? Or is it those friends of yours filling your head with bullshit?” He leans over to your eye level, his hands resting above his knees for support with a firm stare into the side of your face as you refuse to make eye contact with him. 

You were over this. All of it. You were tired of the tension, the fighting, feeling the way you were.  

Which led the next words to slip out from your mouth without a second thought, “I want a break.” 

Chuuya’s scowl quickly shifted to a look of pure bewilderment, to immense hurt and slight panic, then to anger, “A break? You can’t just take a break whenever something doesn’t go your way, that’s not how this works.” 

“I don’t care, I want a break,” It’s getting difficult to talk again as you feel your eyes begin to water. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” He demands, almost hesitantly. 

It takes minutes for you to finally look into his piercing gray eyes without crying and repeat your words, “I want a break.” 

His body straightens and he brings a hand to rub at his eyes, his other hand on his hip. He seems disappointed and a whole lot of other emotions, but mostly frustrated at this whole ordeal. There’s a deafening silence before he drags his hand down his face and lets it fall to his side, “You want a break? Fine, I’ll tell Mori I’m going on the mission then and be gone by tomorrow morning— you’ll get your break.” He then storms off to finish getting ready for work, leaving you to sit alone on the couch, regretting everything that just happened. 

And even when you still have the chance to stop him from walking out the door and just talk to him, you don’t. Instead, you stare down at the ring on your finger numbly, listening to his heavy footfalls as they move towards the front door and then the slamming that follows when he leaves. 

You soon break down crying after, feeling as if you’ve lost everything. You know you could easily fix it with a simple text of wanting to talk things out, but the self-sabotaging nature in you refused to move a muscle. You cry for hours until your body grows exhausted, and you fall asleep on the couch in a tangled mess of some throw blankets and decorative pillows. 

Hours later, Chuuya enters your shared apartment quietly, taking his hat off as he runs a hand through his hair. He’s tired just as much as you are with how things are going in your relationship, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and trying so desperately to figure out how to fix it, but he can’t when you won’t tell him what the problem is. He knows you struggle deep down with telling others about how you feel, and it makes him feel hopeless at times when you won’t even tell him how you feel. 

His eyes trail over the living room before they fall on you and the blankets your body is buried under, your sleeping face peeking through. Chuuya takes light steps over to the couch before crouching in front of you and taking off one of his gloves, his hand slowly reaching out to move a few baby hairs away from your face. His eyes soften when he rubs away the tear stains on your cheeks with his thumb.  

There’s a small ache in his chest from the events and words exchanged earlier, feeling a growing tightness in his throat. He didn’t mean it when he said those things and he knows you didn’t mean what you said. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt any less.  

He begins to feel guilt weighing on his consciousness. He replays all your expressions and words in his mind and starts to think about your reaction to the whole reason the fight started in the first place. It takes a few moments of him silently sitting next to the couch and caressing your face mindlessly until he finally realizes what’s been wrong the whole time. 

When you wake up hours later, you’re no longer on the couch, but placed comfortably in your bed. You rub the crust from your eyes and feel a heavy weight in your chest like a bag of stones when the spot next to you is void of Chuuya. ‘He actually left,’ You thought, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself— even if you had hoped that he would stay. Now fully awake, you slip out of bed sluggishly and shuffle out your bedroom. 

A faint voice from the living room catches your attention and you notice that it’s the TV. There’s a small spark of hope that flickers in your stomach as you slowly creep into the living room. Relief settles in your heart to see the back of Chuuya’s head peeking from the couch. You make your way around the couch timidly until you’re in Chuuya’s sights. He stares tiredly at the TV before he sees you move into his view from the corner of his eye and looks over to you. 

“I… thought you were going to go on the mission…” You whisper, anxiously twisting and fidgeting with the end of your oversized shirt that slightly hangs off your shoulders. 

“I had Mori get someone else to do it,” Chuuya responds quietly, his eyes traveling your figure from top to bottom before propping an arm on the backrest of the couch as a silent invitation for you to sit next to him. 

As soon as you sit next to him, his arm shifts until his callous hand rests on the nape of your neck, rubbing at your skin in a soothing manner. He pulls you into his side after a few moments and turns his face slightly to press a soft kiss against your hairline.  

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” He starts off, sincere in each word as he continues, “Why didn’t you say anything?” It sounds almost rhetorical because you know he knows why on a surface level, but he doesn’t know why.  

You’re silent for a bit before hesitantly answering, “I didn’t want to stress you out by making you feel like you had to constantly tend to me.” 

“You’re my wife, not a burden. No matter how stressed out I am, I don’t want you to ever think that you can’t come to me with your feelings or just to bother me. I know I was gone for a long time, and I shouldn’t’ve become as distant as I had, but–” He sighs out in exasperation, “–Baby, you’ve gotta communicate with me. I don’t wanna fight like this and worry about our marriage. I want us to work out– I need us to work out because…” Chuuya trails off before moving his body to turn towards you and tilt your chin up with his other hand to look you in the eyes. 

“I need you, [name]. You’re my person. Okay?”  

Your chest throbs and aches at his words as his slate gray eyes flicker over your face and then meet your now watering eyes, “You’re my person too, Chuuya. I’m sorry…” You croak out through quivering lips and break down into tears, leaning forward to bury your face into his chest. “M’sorry– didn’t mean anything I said last night– won’t do it again,” You stumble over your words through muffled sobs.  

Chuuya moves his hand from your chin to hold the back of your head, pressing you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head, “I know you didn’t, sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said either. You know I love you, right?” 

You nod, your small sobs and hiccups muted by his loose tank top as you hug your arms around his torso to pull him to you as close as possible, “I love you too…” 

He pulls you back reluctantly from your embrace and cups your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “I promise that I’ll make an effort to be a better husband, I don’t want you to feel like that ever again. I shouldn’t have neglected you like that and made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. That’s the last thing that I want.” 

“I’m gonna do better too, promise,” You sniffle, trying to hold back from anymore tears falling down your face, “Wanna be better for you.” 

“I wanna be better for you too, doll,” He murmurs before his face grows closer to yours to place a soft, innocent kiss against your lips. 

Your hands come to clasp over his own that cup your face and your eyes lull into his fond gaze, “I missed you,” You whisper with longing. 

“I missed you too, baby. It killed me not being able to wake up next to you every morning n’see your pretty face,” He exhales gently, kissing you again. 

Your heart stutters at his words and you reciprocate the kiss, refusing to pull away as quickly as before. When your lashes flutter open, you lean your face into his touch, “I need you, Chuuya,” And it’s clear to him that it wasn’t meant in just an innocent manner.  

“Yeah? Missed me that much, sweet girl?” His nose nudges against yours affectionately before capturing your lips into a sensual kiss. Feeling his lips smother against yours and the ring on his finger to remind you of his undying love and devotion to you only encourages the simmering heat in your chest and lower stomach. And when he mumbles a muffled, “C’mere,” against your lips, you’re quick to climb into his lap and thread a hand into his ginger hair. He hums in amusement at your eagerness and moves his lips to trail pecks along your jaw and down your throat, “Always were so needy f’me and I fuckin’ love it– love everything about you, doll.” He groans under his breath, hands heavily groping at any part of your plush body to keep you against him. 

“Only for you, it’s always been you,” You breathe out with a shaky exhale and Chuuya is unable to hide the small whimper that escapes the back of his throat. 

“Fuck, it’s always been you too, doll. I love you so much it hurts,” He pulls you back down into a desperate and hungry open-mouthed kiss, his tongue seeking out until his muscle is entangling with yours.  

Your face flushes with warmth as you mold your lips against his feverishly, head tilting to deepen the kiss until you’re both panting for air into each other’s mouths, “Please…” You plead, squirming in his lap. 

“I know, babydoll, I feel it too,” Chuuya groans quietly, feeling your thinly clothed pussy skim over the bulge in his gym shorts. “Wanna take this slow though, need to feel all of you, okay?” His hands cup the bottom of your thighs as he moves off the couch to stand up, your lips not parting for even a second as he makes his way to your bedroom and over to the bed. When his shins bump against the bottom frame of the bed, he leans over to lay you down on the mattress gently, lips leaving yours to move back down the expanse of your neck. You shiver, fingers messily tangling into his locks of hair whilst your other hand finds its way in between your bodies to run your hand over his erection. “F-Fuck,” Chuuya breathes out against the skin of your throat, hips jerking forward into your touch. “God, it’s been so long, I almost came,” He admits with embarrassment before latching onto a small patch of your skin to suckle at, pressing kisses to the spot occasionally. 

“Baby, please— wanna touch you so bad,” Was all you had to whine before he slips his baggy gym shorts off to reveal his stiff, throbbing cock. Your hand wraps around him, thumb pressing to his leaking slit to swipe at the precum dribbling out to spread it along his length with a few pumps of your hand. There’s a quiet “schlick” each time your wrist flicks to draw your hand back up to his angry mushroom tip before moving back down to the base of his shaft. 

Chuuya is unashamed when he lets out airy moans against your neck that’s now littered with his love marks, “Shit, you’re s’fuckin’ good, baby— just like that.” His right hand finds its way under your large shirt to grab at your underwear and pull at it until it tears off you. 

“Chuuya,” You whine in complaint, watching him toss the now torn fabric onto the floor, “I liked those.” 

“S’okay, I’ll get you more, sweetheart, promise,” His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he slips his middle and ring finger through your folds to spread your glistening sex open. “Look at how fucking wet you are, you like jerkin’ me off that much, pretty girl?” He groans, eyes glued to your hole clenching around nothing. 

You bury your face into the crook of his neck timidly as your hand pumping around his cock falters slightly from the way he talks, “C-Chuuya…” 

Chuuya chuckles before softly moaning into the side of your head, face nuzzling affectionately into your hair, “C’mon, doll, don’t be shy, look at how your sweet little cunt takes my fingers.” 

Flustered, you peek from his neck to watch his digits dip into your arousal, dragging them up to circle over your clit a few times and then slipping down to sink into your pulsing walls. Whilst his fingers weren’t considered long, they have you twitching from pleasure with how thick they are. “Feels good,” You slur out as your hand squeezes around the base of his cock. 

“Yeah? You love it when I stretch this pussy out with my fat fingers, huh?” He sucks in a short breath as he tries not to come right then and there in your hand as he fingers his digits in and out of your squelching pussy. “My sweet girl likes having her hole stuffed by her husband, hm,” His fingers work faster in and out of your cunt as he angles his thumb to draw rough circles into your needy clit.  

Your grip and stroking around his length only continues to falter as your thighs spasm softly, “M’gonna come— fuck— Chuu, noo, no, no…” You squirm, your other hand tugs his hair. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” Chuuya’s fingers slow to a stop, causing you to whimper from the ebbing buildup of your orgasm. He’s the same as you when he feels your hand come to a stop around his shaft. 

“Wanna come on your cock,” You mumble into him, “Want you to fill me up with your cum.” 

Chuuya feels his heart thrum in his throat wildly as he hears you speak before making quick work of your shirt and his tank top until you're both as bare as you were when you were brought into the world. ��Yeah? Need me to fill your cute pussy up until my cum is spilling outta ya?” He hovers over you between your spread thighs as he hooks your legs over his hips.  

“Just wanna feel you close to me,” You admit with a sweet and quiet voice, your legs drawing him in until his throbbing cock is rubbing between your pussy lips with his tip nudging at your puffy clit. 

His eyes widen barely before softening, his movements becoming less erratic and eager as he leans down to place a gentle kiss against your lips. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll, m’gonna take care of ya like I always do.” He whispers, his right hand moving to guide the tip of his cock against the entrance of your core. Much like his fingers, his thick length bullies into your warm pussy slowly, stretching and splitting you open on his cock. “Fuuuuck, baby, you take me so well. Can’t get enough of seeing you stretch open on me.” 

Your legs tighten around him as you feel his hips press against yours until his balls are flush with your ass, “You’re s’big— it hurts every time, but it hurts good,” A small whimper leaves you as your hands grip at the bedsheets. 

When Chuuya pulls away, he watches his cock twitch from the loss of warmth your tight hole provided before seeing it stretch you back open to fill you. “God, I’ll never get over you,” He hisses through his teeth, pistoning his cock in and out of you at an agonizing pace, “Your pussy was made for me.” 

Chuuya’s gaze isn’t on where your bodies connect for long before he’s back to hovering over you, pinning your hands above your head. They’re placed palm up on top of one another before being locked in place with his left hand interlocking your fingers. The action makes your heart tighten with affection as well as your fingers when you squeeze his hand. The subtle noise of metal clinking from your wedding bands only makes your heart swell with pure unadulterated love for him further. Your eyes start to water again from the overwhelming emotions and love you feel for him. 

He squeezes your hand back in comfort, eyes studying your teary face, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that, doll?” He says out of nowhere, “M’so lucky to have you.” 

You clench around him as you stare back through blurry eyes back into his focused ones, moaning from the way his tip kisses at your g-spot with each thrust. “Mm— Lucky to have you too— you’re so good to me, Chuu,” You mewl out, feeling your stomach twist and coil with intensity.  

“Want you to come for me, please, baby— wanna make you come,” Chuuya’s words grow more pitchy and airier as he reaches his right hand down to rub at your throbbing clit with vigor. 

“A-Ah, fuck—“ Your body arches, hips erratically bucking into his, “C-Coming..! Shit, s’too much.” You sob, tears slipping down your temples and into the mattress. Your cries are soon silenced by Chuuya’s lips swallowing your noises in a passionate, yet sloppy kiss. You muffle incoherently against his lips, but he knows it’s a repeated line of I love you’s as your nails dig into the back of his hand and you cream around his length.  

As your walls spasm around his twitching cock, a guttural groan leaves his throat and he spills his hot, viscous cum deep into your starving pussy until it’s leaking out of your tight hole and down his balls. “Atta girl…” He murmurs through pants, kissing your sweaty forehead lovingly. 

“I love you,” You repeat gently one last time as you both relish in the softness of your afterglow. 

“I love you too,” Chuuya sighs with a ghost of a smile on his face as he admires you underneath him, hand coming down from your hands to wipe away your stray tears, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere, doll? Cause I’ve still got years of loving you left to go.”