#wait hold up am i tweaking

[withonly-sweetheart]

what if you didnt...

• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

[arolesbianism]

Mental health shit is kicking my ass but at least I have my silly guys

[mochamadeleines]

Sweethearts and Sweet Dreams <3

“Nothin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Whats behind your back then?”

You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.” (6.4k words)

tags!! - 18+ modern au! Husband! Joel Miller, Wife! Reader, you guys are happy and in love!, mutual obsession if u squint, lots of exposition im so freaking sorry, pervert Joel if u squint, praise kink joel if you squint, dumbification if you squint, written for those with daddy issues lowkeeyyyyy, written with game joel in mind but could be hbo joel no problem!, lowk i combined the two in my mind, mentions of shy old man joel, housewife! reader (by choice), unspecified age gap but reader is like. thirty? and joels Like...55??, talk about joel taking medication for his anxiety, p in v sex, dirty talk, public sex, outdoor sex, joel has a kink for dresses because i said so? service top joel if you squint, pet names, a pinch of jealousy and possessiveness for fun, playful banter, mentions of maria and tommy and their baby with a made up name Lol, mentions of ellie and sarah (rip), mentions of readers past abusive relationships, talk about joel struggling with substance abuse/addiction and being hospitalized.....Im sure u can theorize why </3, lots of lore ill get into in another fic MAYBE *smirks*, flip flop in perspective, sometimes showing what joel is thinking or what reader is thinking blah blah

authors notes!! - hi there!!! im mocha and this is my first joel fic ever + my first fic posted to tumblr!! im really nervous cuz i havent written anything in months and ive never written joel before so please let me know if you like it!! id love to write more of this au for u guys if theres a demand for it...Thank u for reading!! also barely proof read im ngl. ive been staring at this fic all day im sick of itttt. p.s i dont usually write smut i also kinda do idfk Is this bad or am i tweaking

You step out of the house, morning sun soaking into the roots of your hair and the driveway beneath your feet. Theres a package youve been waiting for. 

You cant contain your grin as you wiggle it out of the hot prison that is your mailbox.

“What the hell are you doin’ out there barefoot?” Joel chastises you from the front door, leaning his elbow on the frame. Joel, your lovely husband of two years. Been together for five. And because of how hard he works, you have the privilege of being a stay at home wife. Some people think that sort of life is stifling, but youve never felt so free. No more jobs you hate, no more financial struggles. Just you, Joel, and your cat, Cement. He likes to pretend it isnt a totally hilarious name for a pet.

You were his first relationship in almost a decade, so it was a lot of work helping him unpack his anxieties about dating, and a lot of work for you to feel safe and unafraid. Honestly? Youve been mistreated by enough men to land you in the psychward.

But Joel never yells at you, he never breaks things when hes angry or threatens to hurt you. He might raise his voice every now and again, but its never because of something you did. Sometimes the stress of life is just too much. 

He works hard, he loves his daughter- daughters- and he would do anything to keep you happy. Whatever you say goes, he says. Even now, you hardly argue. Of course you have disagreements, or off days thatd lead to one of you being especially moody, but the both of you do your best to communicate.

Behind that rough exterior, is someone who just wants to be needed. 

You first met Joel at a youth center you volunteered at, he taught guitar, you taught arts and crafts. Joel says it was your smile and sense of humor that charmed him. It was his singing and southern accent for you.

Your favorite thing about Joel is how soft he gets around you. He says its because you make it easy to be soft. 

Joel was a shy lover at first. He would get nervous just kissing you, or holding your hand. While most people become intimate very early on in their relationship, you and Joel didnt do anything sexual for the first five months of you dated. Sure, you almost did, plenty of times, but he would get so overwhelmed and cut things short. You broke two of your vibrators during this era of your relationship. Embarassing.

You remember your first time very vividly. Joel had worked back to back doubles trying to meet a deadline, and on the final day, after having barely spoken to you for almost a week, you had shown up to his house, unannounced. You were wringing water out of your jacket when he swung the door open. 

“How-” Joel blinks a few times, stepping forward to examine the rainfall. “How long you been out here?”

“Not that long,” You lie and pick up the container you brought off the porch chair. Part of you had a hard time mustering up the courage to even knock on the door. Droplets of water cascade down your chin. “Hi, sorry. I know youre tired.”

He shakes his head, voice soft and warm. “S’fine. Now c’mon, youre gonna get sick.”

Youre seated at the little dining table next to the kitchen now, trying to let the sound of the rainfall ease your nerves.

Joel was quick to grab you a towel, and does the honors of drying your face and hair with it. “Why didnt you jus’ call me? Woulda gotten out of the shower faster if i knew you were gettin’ soaked out there like this.”

“I dunno, sorry.”

“An’ whatd i tell you about apologizin’ all the time?”

“Sor- Uh. Right. Okay.” You tighten your jaw. No more.

Joel moves behind you, now squeezing water out the ends of your hair. “Whas’ that?”

“Oh!-” You peel back the lid, showing it to him. “Old fashion cake donuts are your favorite right? I remember you saying you liked eating them with your coffee in the mornings so…I made these. Youve been working a lot lately and I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Joel gingerly grasps the container from your hands, looking into it. Theyre a warm golden brown, outside evenly fried, and the sweet scent of them hits his nose right away.

“I was just gonna leave them on the doorstep and call you to tell you they were there, but I wanted to see you.”

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows the dryness in his throat. Youre too good for him. 

“Thank you very much.” He presses a kiss to your damp hair. “Now, lets get you into some dry clothes.”

Joel gives you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to keep you modest while your clothes wash and dry. 

You wait patiently on his bed for the hot chocolate he promised you before you showered. Theres nothing to watch on the tv, so you just turn it off and reach for the lamp on his nightstand instead. 

He comes in quietly, and sets the mug down beside the lamp. You finally come into focus, clear as day even under the low lighting.

“You uh.. You look nice.”

You blink. “I look nice?”

“In my shirt.”

That gets a smile out of you. 

Joel tips his head towards the mug. “S’hot so, give it a few minutes. Dont want you burnin’ your mouth.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Hes sat beside you now and the two of you sit in silence for a while. Its not awkward, just the kind of silence where both of you want to say something but just.. Cant.

Joel unravels first. “Missed you, y’know. Just been tired.”

“I know.” Your voice wobbles, and Joels jaw tightens like hearing you sound so sad stings him. “I missed you, too.” 

He slides his hand over yours, giving it a squeeze. Its okay. 

“Hey Joel...Can I stay the night?” 

“Sure. Id really like that.”

While you drink your hot chocolate, you and Joel catch up. You both talk about work, and about your new found interest in baking. Joel teases you about your lack of cooking skills, you do the same. Youre both useless. 

When its time to climb into bed, neither of you can actually fall asleep. Joel rolls onto his side, away from you and the window. You follow, curling up like a little cat against his back. The sensation is nice for the both of you.

You speak up after a little while.

“Joel?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

He scoffs, voice thick with exhaustion. “Like I'd force you to leave after you brought me such a nice present.”

You let out a little giggle, “So if i didnt, youd kick me out?”

“Id think ‘bout it.”

You gasp, gently shoving at his back. “Thats mean…!”

“S’really not.”

“Oh yeah? And what if I poisoned them?.”

“Then itd jus' be a regular day of your cookin’ then.” Joel reminds you, lighthearted. Too many times where you left the shells in your eggs or burnt toast or left the bacon on the pan for too long.

“You cant get mad at me for my dark past when you made a perfectly good sirloin taste like horse leather.”

“Ugh. Dont remind me. That was like putting a one-hundred dollar bill into a paper shredder. How do either of us stay alive again?”

“Uh. Digiorno?”

“Digiorno.”

After a few moments, Joels rolling over again, and hes guiding your head to settle against his chest. Your arms wrap around him, and his arms around you. 

“Joel,” You whisper. He hums. “Im cold.”

“S’cause youre not wearin’ any pants.”

“And whos fault is that?”

“Still yours.”

“I was left out in the rain like a sad, sopping wet cat. One that was left in a box all alone with no family…” You pretend to sniffle. “Dont you feel bad for me?”

Joel sighs, not saying anything more except making sure the part of the comforter behind your back is tucked into your side so the cold air doesnt get in. When hes done, you do a little shimmy up his body, and throw your leg over his hip. Oh no.

Hes alert now. Very alert. Be normal. Joel hesitates, licking the dryness off his lips. “Uh. Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You push your face into his throat, cat-like, before settling down again. Hes like a radiator.

Actually scratch that, he cant be normal. 

“Darlin’.” He rasps, patting your back to get your attention.

“Mm?”

“Your leg. Move it.”

A few beats pass. “Why?”

“Because…” Wow,  he didnt think hed get this far. You shift forward and Joel lets out a quiet exhale through his nose, one that couldve been masked by the rain if you werent so close.

“Are you-”

“No! No. Its- Its not what you think-” He cant see your face in the darkness but he knows you feel the semi-hard struggling through the confines of his pants. Lame.

“Joel,” You say, soft. Your hands slide up his arm to cradle his jaw. Lightning flashes into the room, giving you a glimpse of Joels tight expression. He whispers your name back, just as soft.

“This is normal.” 

Its normal, it is! Except for the fact that you guys havent had sex yet. The stress of being intimate is too much, kills his boner in a blink. The longer he waits the worse the anxiety gets.

“I-I know.”

You place a hand on his chest, feeling it pound away like crazy through all the soft muscle.  

“Youve been taking your medication, right?”

Has he?

The silence of him thinking is proof enough. “Joel-”

He sighs, rubbing his eyes through the darkness .“I know, I know. Shoot, Im sorry. I just forget sometimes.”

“Its okay.” The pad of your thumb strokes the tops of his cheek, and you press a tender kiss to his mouth to soothe him.  “...Want me to remind you?”

The softness of your lips has him a bit dazed. “Huh?”

“I said, do you want me to remind you? I can- You know, call you before you leave work. Make sure you take them.”

“You know I wake up at five-o-clock in the mornin’ , right?”

“I know.” 

In a whisper, “Okay.”

Joels rough palms trail down your back and stop at the curve of your butt, finger tips delicately tracing the skin above your shorts. You shiver.

Barely above a whisper. “We dont have to go all the way.”

He says your name again, laced with worry. He doesnt want you to feel pressured. 

You pull your leg off his hip and push yourself up, settling your hands on either side of Joels head.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes-”

“-And you cant get all in your head about it. You stay here, with me. You stay present.”

“Okay, okay.” He nods, a bit defeated. “I will stay present.”

“When you...When you say you dont wanna have sex, what is it that youre thinking exactly? I know you said you just get really nervous but I feel like youre not being totally honest.”

Joel stays quiet, idly rubbing your sides. Maybe you are a cat. Just getting to feel any part of you is soothing. “I jus’ want you to feel good. ‘Fraid ill do somethin’ you dont like.”

“You cant assume how I feel, Joel. Being intimate.. It takes time to learn what the other person likes.”

He sighs. “I know.” Youre always right.

Adding on, “Like I said, we dont have to go all the way,” You lean further back, situating yourself on his hips. He lets out a shaky breath when he feels the pressure of your ass through his sweats.

“But, I want to start somewhere. I want to feel you.” 

“Fuck- Um-” Hes shaking now, letting you grind your hips down onto him. Joel cant seem to control the way his hips instinctively push up to meet yours. Youre both becoming of a mess of little gasps and hot breaths and tiny whimpers already.

You hunch forward, guiding his hand under your your shirt- His shirt- letting him feel up the supple skin of your stomach, then the area where your ribs are, then your-

“And I want you to feel me,”

Surprisingly, you did actually go all the way that night.

Your sex life was a bit of a rocky start, but after Joel got over most of his anxiety, you learned quickly just how goddamn insatiable he was. Five years in and he still regularly makes you sore. 

There are a couple things you learned about him and his sexual interests. He loves to take you in his truck, in your kitchen, in your bathroom, on your couch. Other, riskier places. Anywhere that isnt your bed apparently, not that he isnt fucking you there either.

Joel is handsy, so handsy infact it embarasses you to no end, especially when youre infront of others. Thats usually how it starts, too. First he kisses you, then gropes your hips and your ass, and the next thing you know, youre cumming on his fingers. Then hed bend you over, or get you on your back, or make you ride him. Is it really riding if hes just slamming up into you until your brain turns into mush?

He likes that too. Making you not think.

Youd be lying if you said its only ever him. Sleepy morning handjobs before work, whining to him over the phone and touching yourself to his voice, arching your back into him while you're washing dishes, sucking him off after hours in his office.

And while most men prefer lingerie or little costumes, Joel likes dresses. Dresses that are discreet so he can take you in the backyard when he comes home early and sees you gardening. Or when youre both at a friends house and hes had a little too much to drink and finds himself alone with you. Dresses that make it easy to play his favorite game with you. I touch you, and you make sure we dont get caught by being too loud. Joel really is the worst sometimes.

Now, you only ever wear pants when its cold, or to bed or sometimes when youre lounging, like today. Youre in some shorts and a tank top. Otherwise, its dresses all year round, usually retro styles or ones meant for spring. Joels not picky though, he loves any dress on you.

Even if you wear an extremely modest, white lacey sleep dress, looking like some kind of vintage ghost, the man would still keep you up all night. And he has. He said you looked like a princess. You guess you kind of did.

The entire thing is like an unspoken arrangement between you both. He doesnt tell you to wear them, you just do.

And he works hard to spoil you, so why not buy as many cute dresses as possible? 

You got a cute dress today too, on the same day Joel has off. You think its going to be a new favorite of his.

The big polymailer stays hidden behind your back. Be casual. “Uh- Nothing!”

“Nothin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Whats behind your back then?”

You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.”

“Lemme see then. Show me your hands-”

“Hey, Mrs. Miller!”

Both you and Joel turn your heads to the voice, and only one of you has the energy to fake a a smile. Your neighbor is stopping in his driveway, having come back from a jog it looks.

“Hi, Lee.” 

Joel really, really, really doesnt like Lee. You dont like him either, but youre not one to cause problems. Lee on the other hand, is. Hes a bit younger than you, and a lot younger than Joel. Hes one of those tech dudes with a massive ego, thinks that youll be swayed by his money and his “charm” and youth as if youre some sad housewife in need of saving. Gross. 

And another thing, Lee doesnt even actually live here! Hes here ever so often to visit his dad between, you dont know, tech expos? You forget. Joel believes he started showing up more often to see you. 

Youre walking towards the porch again. Joels looking especially unhappy to see him today, knuckles pulled taut into a fist. His lips stay pressed into a thin line, careful not to let anything slip out. He usually lets you do most of the talking, as much as it pains him. 

Joels really not a fan of the way Lees eyes take a trip up your bare legs. Little shit.

“Out with no shoes again, Mrs. Miller?”

“You know me, Im uh- Im weird.”

“The weird ones do it best.” He smiles, all teeth. It gives you the creeps. His attention is on Joel now. Its like watching a puppy try to one up a wolf. “Right, Joel?”

“Uh huh.” Whatever that means.

“Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, Mrs. Miller.” Lee crosses into your driveway and you glance briefly at Joel, as if to make sure he isnt going to start growling at the other to stay away. Youre clutching the package to your chest now. 

“Have you ever been to a support group for uh- you know, the spouses of addicts?  I have a friend from work and shes really struggling.” 

Lees tone is sugary sweet, but the fake kind you put in diet soda except that stuff is way better. Joel sighs from the door. You stand there, dumbfounded on the porch steps because what the fuck is he going on about. 

You clear your throat, keeping your voice firm. “No. Ive never needed to.”  

Joels voice cuts in like a knife. “Been clean for almost twenty years now.”

“Yeah but, you know,” He shrugs, squinting a bit under the morning sun. “Relapses happen.”

Joel and Lee are at a stand still, and the moment Joel lets the arm leaning on the frame drop to his side, you know youre in for a lot of trouble. You move quickly towards the door. “We have to get ready for a- uh- a thing? but Im sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Im doing my best to support her.” And before he turns away, he just has to be slimy to you. “If you need someone to talk to, Im here for you.”

“No, that really wont be necess-”

Joels slinging a strong arm around you to yank you back inside before shutting the door. 

“Motherfucker,” He hisses to himself, stomping through the walkway and into the kitchen.

“How-” You rub your eyes, letting them adjust to the light inside of the house. You put the package down onto the bar counter that opens up the kitchen and follow Joel to the fridge. “How does he know?? I thought-”

“Been living in this house for decades now,” His expression is tight, brows knitted together while he chugs a bottle of water. “People talk. ‘Specially if I'm being rolled into an ambulance on more than one occasion.” Joel frowns. “Fuck- I shoulda punched him in the fuckin’ face- Do you see how hard he tries so hard to flirt with you infront’a me?”

“I know, love. I was there.” You take the bottle from his hand and set it to the side, then wrap your arms around him. “Try not to let it get to you okay?”

Joel sighs into your hair, giving your body a squeeze. “I know, I know, but jus’ hearin’ him tryin’ta use my baggage to make a pass at you…S’fuckin’ evil.”

“I agree, but I dont want his blood on the driveway.”

“So get it on his driveway instead, got it.”

You giggle and tip your head up to kiss him. The tension eases from Joels shoulders, and he cups your cheeks, letting his worries melt away into your mouth. When the pads of his fingers start to slide under your tank top, youre leaning back. Youll be here for a while if this goes any further.

Joel mindlessly chases your lips, looking a bit pouty now that its over.

“Im gonna start getting ready for the barbecue, okay?”

“This early?”

“I like being punctual.” 

“My brother wont give a damn if were late.” He noses your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there. Your knees are beginning to feel weak. The bastard is trying to distract you.

“But I do. The farmers market opened today, and I promised Maria I'd get her fresh strawberries before we got there, remember?”

“Alright, alright.” He grumbles into your shoulder.

Joel lets you go, watching you round the bar counter to get your package and disappear upstairs.

-

Ever since you came down to a freshly showered Joel, and got into the car with the gift bags you prepared for Maria and Tommy, Hes been staring at you. One wrong move and the drools gonna start pouring out of his mouth.

Your hair is in its relatively natural state, freshly washed and shiny from the oil you put in it. You put on some light makeup, and went a bit heavy handed on the blush to look sunkissed, and topped it off with a flavored lip gloss Joel especially enjoys. 

Now, the dress. Its a pink floral mid-length dress, with a low cut sweetheart neckline and a corset style backing to cinch your waist and push out your chest. The material is thick and pretty, and there are two other layers under the skirt to keep its shape. You have on a pair of little pink pumps with little bows to match. 

The drive to the farmers market is fairly peaceful, the windows are half down and theres music playing at low volume on the radio. You and Joel have different tastes in music, but one genre you can always agree on is alternative rock. 

The weathers beautiful, sun high in the sky, and its not too hot or humid. The day really is perfect. Youre gonna soak up some sun when youre at the barbecue. Hopefully, they made lemonade again too.

Joel has been mostly quiet throughout your shopping. While it would worry some, youve been with him long enough to know that he just has a lot on his mind. What hes thinking about? Maybe youll learn when you make it back home at the end of the day.

You gasp, strolling through the grass to a stand with a mountain of apples. Granny smith, Macintosh, Pink Ladys, Honeycrisp, the works. He grunts, trying to keep the things that are already in your basket steady. You came for strawberries and are going to leave with much more than that.

Joel nudges you softly. “Remember, this is quality stuff, meaning itll go bad faster. Dont get too much.”

“Okay, got it.” You beam, and then begin inspecting the Pink Lady apples first, trying to find the ones with the best color.  He keeps the basket within reach so you can drop your picks in.

"These were Sarahs favorites."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, it was funny 'cause we started arguin' over these or Red Delicious. I think Red Delicious is better."

"Thats so cute! Hmm. Should we get one for her? A Pink Lady?"

"Uh," He thinks on it for a moment, unsure, but the smile on your face helps him make a decision. "Sure, why not."

You drop two perfect Pink Ladys into the basket, moving onto the next pile.

“Hey, Joel.” You grin, holding out a wrinkled granny smith apple. “This one looks like you”

“Ha ha.” He deadpans, and grabs it from you to put back. In turn, hes reaching for the runt of the pile. A pathetically small one sitting near the bottom. “Now this one looks like you.”

“Does not!”

“Does too.” 

The next stand has golden kiwis, and youre practically dragging Joel forward to try them. You ask for one, and the man at the stand slices it into halves, giving you a plastic spoon to go with. 

You let Joel smell it first. “S’good.”

“Lets see if it tastes good.”

You sink your spoon into it, humming when you see how soft and easy it is to scoop out. In your mouth it goes!

Its tastes sweet, a bit mango-y and fucking delicious. You bounce in place, spoon feeding Joel next. “Oh yeah,” He smiles, smacking his lips a bit to really let the taste settle on his tongue. “Were takin’ some of these.”

You take one, then two, then three and four then five and as you reach for the sixth one, Joels stopping you with a gentle hand. 

“Darlin’.” 

“Right.” 

For the next few stands its just you and Joel trying various kinds of fruit. Starfruit, blueberries, some mangos, and then youre going back to the truck.

“I think my favorites were the mangos and golden kiwis. I hope Maria and Tommy have enough space in their fridge for all of this.”

“They moved into a bigger house, I reckon their fridge s’probably bigger, too.”

“What time is it?” 

You let go of Joels arm so he can switch the basket from one hand to the other. 

“‘Bout…” Hes squinting at his watch. “12:34 in the afternoon.”

“Oh! Guess we got the shopping done sooner than I expected. Hmm. Should we stop somewhere in the mean time?-" You snap your finger when you remember something. "They opened up this cafe that has cats in it! We can drink coffee and play with them for bit! The next fourty-five minutes will go by super fast."

“Youre gonna make Cement jealous.”

You bat your hand dismissively. “Hes not gonna caaare.” 

“Oh yes he will. And remind me again why we named our cat Cement?

“Uh, we were both drunk and had gotten him the day before without a name picked out?”

“A whole year later and we still kept it. Worst pet owners ever.” Joel chuckles, opening the passenger door for you like he always does. 

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

The giant basket of fruit goes into the back seat next to the gift bags before Joel slots himself into the drivers seat. 

You fumble with the radio a bit, trying to see what else is on but ultimately landing back on your preferred station. Theyve been playing a lot of Linkin Park recently. Hell yeah. Joel buckles himself in at last, and pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Marias gonna teach me how to make baked chicken,” You hum, gazing outside the window.

“You sure youre not jus’ unteachable?”

“Ha ha,” You lightly shove his shoulder, making him smile. “I thought you loved the meat sauce pasta I learned how to make.”

He settles into his seat more comfortably at the stop light, elbow rested on the window. “Got me with that one. Think I like ground turkey over beef, though.”

“Yeah? Me too. The beef tastes better but the turkey is lighter. Stops me from feeling all sick.”

“Agreed.”

Youre looking out the windshield now. Where did all the buildings go? Youre out of the city. 

“Uh, Joel?”

“Mm?”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere to kill time.”

“Yeah but where?”

“Youll see.” 

Your brows pinch together. “I see a whole lot of nothing except for trees."

“Almost there.”

Joel makes a hasty left turn onto some campgrounds. Your stomach starts to twist into excited knots. Is he gonna show you a baby deer or something? Bunnies? He used to be a park ranger for this area, and would tell you stories about all sorts of baby animals hed run into.

The car comes to a stop, and he turns the engine off. Silence.

“So…Were out in the woods to kill time?”

“Mhm.” Joel unbuckles his seat belt and twists into the back to grab the spare jacket he usually keeps there, then gets out of the truck and comes around the back to open the door for you. 

He holds your hand to help you get down from the passenger side, and as soon as both of your shoes hit the ground Joel is on you. 

You dont know where your hands should go, youve kissed Joel a thousand times and yet you still get so flustered when he catches you by surprise. You keep your hands on his shoulders for now, letting him press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“This is new right? The dress?” He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze through the fabric. “Thought you looked so pretty when you came down stairs in it.” 

Your heads spinning. Something about your dress? 

“Woulda been okay if you let me have you earlier.” He pulls away, examining your flushed face cradled by his hand. Every part of you just fits so well in his palms. “Then I thought, why not have you now? We got time to spare.”

“Joel- We- Someone could see us-” You sputter, and Joels already shaking his head with a knowing smirk. He pulls you around to the bed of the truck, popping it open, only pausing to spread open the jacket he grabbed, just having just thrown it in there when he came around to get you.

“No ones gonna come lookin’ for us.” He turns you around, pushing you down onto your front. “As long as youre quiet.” 

Fuck. You really hate this game. At least, you like to tell yourself that.

Blood rushes to your ears while Joels rough palms lift up the skirt of your dress, exposing your ass and thighs to the cool air. He whistles from behind you. 

“Red lace panties?” His fingers dont shy away from tracing along the fabric covering your cunt. “This new too?”

You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at his face. “Uh.. Surprise?”

Joels smiling now, fingers dipping under the lace. “Thas' awfully sweet of you.”

His touch slips and slides around your growing wetness, then trails down to your clit. Your voice wobbles a bit and fuck- fuck hes going too fast. “Joel- Ah-” You whimper and try to push yourself up to look at him but his hand is steady on your spine, keeping you down. 

Smug, “Go on, sweetheart. Keep sayin’ my name. Jus’ like that.”

A whine escapes you when he pulls away, “Nooo.” You push your ass back, as if to entice him. You succeed, because hes skipped his usual routine of fucking you with his hands and is now unbuckling his belt.

Joel rolls you onto your back, and peels your underwear all the way off, bunching it up and shoving it into his back pocket. Your face burns just watching him.

“Think i'll hold onto these for a lil’ while.”

His hands push the back of your knees towards your chest, exposing your heat. Youll never get used to the way he just seems so interested just watching your cunt squeeze around nothing. 

“Thats-” You swallow, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "Joel.”

“Relax." He coos, "Seen it a thousand times already, and ill be seein' it a thousand more. Get used to it, honey.”

Your attention flickers down to where his dick is about to meet your entrance. Joels nudging you down onto your back again and pulling the top of your dress down to expose your chest. Its when youre distracted that he actually moves to push himself in.

Both of you groan together, and Joel could never get bored of fucking you, not when your cunt just pulses around him everytime hes inside you.

Joel wastes no time fucking you once he eases all the way inside. Youre trying your best to keep quiet. Shit is no easy task. Its like Joel is trying to get you guys arrested.

He props himself up with a hand near your head, and lets the other keep one of your legs pinned open. The moans start to claw out of your throat. “Joel- Joel-” 

“Shh. Thas’ enough.” He growls through his teeth, fucking you harder. “Youre gonna- Gh- Get us caught-”

Something rustles between the trees, making you both freeze. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching Joel straighten up to look around.

After a few seconds of squinting, Joel can see a few foxes moving about through the trees. Thank fuck. His shoulders visibly relax.

Hushed, “E-Everything okay?”

“Yeah, jus’ some animals.” 

And like that, hes back to it. His dick is going to make your eyes permanently stay rolled into your head. 

Joel is always just so handsome when hes pounding into you. His forehead gets shiny with sweat, and his jaw is tight from clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet so he can focus on your moans. His face is noticeably redder against his usual farmers tan too. Really, hes just so attractive.

A flurry of yes and harder and fuck spills out of your mouth and into your palms. Not too loud, you try to remind yourself.

“Joel- S’too much-”

“Nah, thas’ not it.” He huffs, humorous. “You can take it. Y'always do. In fact, you love gettin’ your cunt bullied by me, aint that right?” As if to get his point across, he thrust in all the way to the hilt, making you keen. You forgot how to breathe, lungs drawing tight in your chest.

"Fuck," You manage to squeeze out.

Your palms push weakly at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. His head drops to the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.

“You good?” He checks in, breath hot on your skin. As if your crying isnt enough.

“So g-good, Joel- Fuck- Youre so good.” 

With a little nod, Joels pushing himself up, switching to slow and deep strokes, really digging himself into you, and trying to find that spot he likes to call home.

He massages your chest, then squeezes your sides and your hips and finally, his thumb finds your clit. Immediately, you jolt. 

“Oh fuck-” 

“Quiet.” And he says it to keep the charade going, even though his favorite thing is hearing your sobs.

His thumb rubbing incessantly against your that sweet little nub of yours. You choke, and Joels chuckling, watching the way you squirm, body not knowing whether it should lean into his touch because its too good or away because its too much.

It starts with this firey feeling under the pad of his thumb, then deep inside your stuffed cunt. Youre going to cum. 

Your hands fly to your mouth again, and you get all wide eyed from the sensation. Its cute. Your muscles pull taut, legs locking around Joels hips. Youre wailing into your palm when it happens.

“Good girl,” His voice soothes you through it. “Very good.”

He pets away the fly aways sticking to your sweaty face when its over. Your eyes drop shut while you catch your breath. 

Joels moving again now. He rolls his hips a few times, and thumb is building the foundation of another orgasm in you. Youre shaking badly.

Your words slur too, “Cant- Too soon- Joel- Joel-”

“Another one.” Joel says firmly, but breathless. 

Youre gasping, not sure where to focus your eyes. The trees around you look like theyre spinning. Your attention is back on Joel, whos looking rather satisfied watching you squirm and cry. If thats how wants to play, then fine.

Your hands slide up Joels biceps, and rests on the nap of his neck to bring him down. “Juh-Joel,” You pant, cradling his face with both hands. “Youre so good- The best-”

Oh, Joel likes that one, you can tell by the way he looks away briefly. Shyness. Excitement runs up your spine. Joel loves being told hes doing well. 

“You are- Nghh-” You swallow the drool in your mouth, trying to get the words out clearly. “The best husband I could ever ask for.”

Joel wheezes, head dropping into the curve of your shoulder. “Please.”

“S’true,” You nod rapidly, fingers curling into his hair. “Youre so good to me and-and youre mine and- Joel-  Im yours.”

“Jesus-” He groans, soaking up the feeling of you pressing kisses to his face and up his jaw. 

“Hhah-  No one else can have me, okay? No one- Not even-”

The name doesnt even come out of your mouth before Joels coming to a stop to slip his arms all the way around your middle. With the new leverage he has on your body, hes drilling his way into you. You fucking squeal, rules now long forgotten. Youre a useless ragdoll in his arms and he wouldnt have it any other way.

Your lips are shiny with spit and left over lip gloss, and he can still taste the mintiness in his tongue. Every now and again your eyes drop shut, but his dick just punches into your guts a little harder. Look at me. 

Your brain is mush, just the way he likes it, and youre perfectly pliant in his arms, babbling over how good you feel. Hes kisses along the valley of your breasts now, stopping to suck the flesh of your nipples.

Youre just so pretty. Even when you have bedhead, or youre snotty from a cold, or youre all dirty from working in the garden  youre still so pretty. Including now, all sweaty with you lipgloss all smudged and your mascara starting to run. Youre perfect. 

Joel grunts loud, jaw clenched tight as he gets lost in the feeling of your insides. His perfect little wife.

When he cums, hes doubling over with a loud grunt, getting a few last thrusts in before his spent floods your cunt.

Youre blinking away your tears, now watching the clouds inch along the sky. It really is a beautiful day. You pet Joels sweaty hair, and kiss the side of his temple. Your core throbs faintly. Jesus, he did a number on you.

“Love,” You say softly, patting his back.

“Mm?”

“Get up.” Another pat. “Youre squishing me.” 

Joel backs off to buckle himself up, but you stay seated to catch your breath and adjust your dress. At least it didnt get ripped during all the… Commotion. Not like last time.

“I need my underwear back.”

“Nope,”

“Joel.”

He kisses the center of your forehead and helps you down from the bed and into the passenger seat instead.  “Told you i'm keepin’ ‘em.”

You sputter, “I cant go to barbecue commando!”

“Sure you can.” He pops open the glove compartment and gets out some tissues, hand snaking under your dress again to clean you. You sigh softly at the sensation.

“Youre the worst.”

“I am indeed the worst.” Joel pulls the seatbelt over your chest and clicks it in. “You can tell me all about it on the way to Tommys.” 

[strangeshoepatrolbandit-alt]

Breeding.

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB!Reader, Fem!Reader, PinV, breeding kink, lactation kink, they briefly call each other "Mommy" and "Daddy".

A short story.

Please be aware of the content you consume.

𐙚

Anakin hates kids.

Well... he doesn't hate them, but he surely doesn't like them.

They're snotty, nasty. They talk to much and ask too many stupid questions.

To be honest, he doesn't even really want them. He's a Jedi. He's supposed to be celibate. But he also just doesn't see a life where he's holding and raising a child on his own. The world is too big and scary for that. He'd surely burst a blood vessel due to nerves or just from holding a hand that's sticky with an unknown substance.

But when he's buried deep inside you, the dull tip of his cock hitting your cervix- the entrance to your womb, he can't deny that he is just a man.

He pictures how you'd look with a belly swollen from the life put inside of you. He's the one who got to fuck his cum up into you.

Your stomach wouldn't be the only thing swelling, your breasts would too. You’d produce milk to be able to feed the combination of the both of you. He fantasizes about putting his lips on your sensitive nipples and sucking the milk out for himself, swallowing the food your body created for nurturing and feeding.

You. He'd be drinking a piece of you.

While he has you in the mating press- ironically, he finds himself caressing your stomach with his real hand.

"Gonna make you a mommy." He manages to tell you, rambling. "I can't wait to see your bump. To see how my children look like inside of you." His lips begin to trail down the side of your neck.

His thrusts have you squirming underneath him, panting even though you're not doing any of the work. "Make me a mommy, Anakin. Make me a mommy, and I'll make you a daddy."

"I'm ready to become one..." Anakin presses another kiss to your neck, before moving back up towards your mouth again.

"You want me to put a lot of babies in you...? Make you my pregnant beauty? Yeah?" He moves his hands around your body, caressing your stomach yet again as he does so. "To see what we make?" He kisses you again, biting your lower lip.

"Do you want my babies...? To feel them moving inside of you? To see what they look like after spending so much time in you? To see what you look like with a belly full of my children?" He mumbles against your lips.

"Yes!" You yell, wanting to feel him fill you with the warmth of his cum. Wanting to bear his child(ren). "Oh- yes!"

A smile grows on Anakin's face as he buries his face into your neck yet again, putting his tongue flat against your skin so that he can taste your sweat, his stomach tensing due to his approaching climax.

"We'll get you a nice and full belly soon..."

Hello! I am still knee-deep in writers block, but I felt bad about my absence. I tweaked something that's been in my drafts for a while. I hope it is satisfactory!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 4

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Yes, please, he should be waiting,” you confirm and hang up the phone.  

You’re still in a daze. You barely remember getting to your desk or dialing the call. You’re functioning on habit alone as your mind reels. 

“Ahem,” the throat clear makes you wince and you look up at Loki as he looms on the other side of your monitor. 

You sit up straight and fix the screen, adjusting it so you can see. He tuts and grabs it again, stopping you from sinking into your work. That’s how you deal with things. You just ignore them. 

“What?” You look at him. 

“What?” He echoes.  

“Why are you still here? You have the...” you can’t even say it. You’re married. Somehow.  

“I’ve every right to stay close to my wife.” 

“Ooh, don’t say that,” you shake your head. 

“Pardon?” His brows tweak. 

“Don’t say it out loud. That word. Wife--” You suck in air and hold it in your chest. You shudder as you let it out slowly. 

“You should be flattered. I am a god. You are... minuscule, even for a Midgardian,” he slithers. 

“So why did you do that?” Your voice peaks. 

He snickers. “Well, let’s not get off to such a rough start. There are things still to tend to. As I have it, your marital traditions require a band?” 

He leans in to look over the monitor as your fingers flutter nervously by your keyboard. You follow his gaze and find a large green emerald mounted on a golden band. Where the heck did that come from? You raise your hand and try to wrench it off. It’s stuck! 

“It cannot be undone as easily that,” he taunts. “So, in my research, you are not so dissimilar to Asgardians in the way of marriage, however, I don’t think you’d be fond of a blood sacrifice so I’ll spare you that.” He laughs as you blanch at him. You’re annoyed at how amused he is. “Though the matter of consummation...” 

“Alright, no,” you stand and wave your hands. “No, no. I’m working. I’m busy.” Your voice is brittle and salty in your throat. You sweep around the desk and shoo him, “you need to go, alright? I have work to do and this is insane. So please, leave.” 

He catches you by the wrists as he faces you. You gulp at the iron in his grip. You tug but he doesn’t even flinch. You stare at his pale fingers. He feels like ice. 

“Loki, sir, later when I’m done we can discuss--” 

“I preferred when you called me a prince. Yes. Proper titles. ‘My Prince,’" he sneers. 

You sniff and squirm against his grasp, “my prince, please, will you go? I can’t handle this right now.” 

His lip curls as his green eyes blaze down at you. Is he angry? Entertained? Annoyed? 

“You needn’t be so scandalized. I am perfectly attractive. I am an exceptional choice in mate. By any standard in this universe, I am coveted. Don’t pretend that heart isn’t skipping a beat at my very touch,” he drawls. 

“Yes, it’s a condition. I’ve had it checked. They said it’s nothing to worry about,” you babble dumbly. You know he doesn’t mean that but you really can’t deal with his true implication. 

“We have to seal this union or I have no case for my residence--” 

“Got it. I get it. I understand,” you ramble. “But right now is not the time for that--” 

“There’s an office right there--” 

“Not now,” you repeat. “Loki,” you rip your hands free as his hold on you slackens. “I need to finish my work here and to be honest, I could use a little time to process this.” You turn away and stride back around the desk to face him from the other side. “I should have everything wrapped up at six and then we can figure things out.” 

You sit but your chair is higher than you expect. You blink and he’s gone. No, he’s below you. You writhe in his lap as he wraps an arm around your middle. You push on his elbow and squeal. 

“What are you doing?” You whine and kick your legs. 

“Well, darling, you sat in my lap. It’s rather forward of you,” he laughs. 

“Stop, stop!” You shove his arm helplessly. “I’m begging you to just--” 

“Oh, I knew you would beg--” 

“Enough!” You yell and stomp his foot. You get free and throw yourself off of him. You hit the desk and spin in the small space between you. You puff out as your adrenaline pumps behind your ears.  

You put your hands out, speechless. You can’t think. It’s all a scramble. You clap your palms together and twine your fingers. Then you cup your hands and cover your mouth. 

“Darling, you are dramatic,” he muses. 

You finally untangle your fingers and throw up your arms. You shake your head and turn to storm off. You don’t look back. You are going to hide in the bathroom until the world doesn’t feel so shaky. 

[shootingstarwritings]

Body Surfing Lesson

“’Body surfing,’ is an important skill to learn as fledgling body possessors,” Gerald spoke to the hidden camera, putting on his teacher persona as best he could considering the ciscumstances. “Normally, it takes a lot of mana for us to take over other people, but the body surfing technique involves taking over multiple people over the course of a single day, using their own mana as a sort of ‘surfboard,’ to ride the waves of mana that flow inside of us all.” He inwardly cringed as he spoke, his current body very clearly unfitting for his lesson.

Gerald had no idea who had come up with such awful terminology, but it was far too late to change that. The small yet tight-knit community the possessors in the area had formed needed to have a sense of unity. Too much innocent blood had been shed for shame to hold Gerald back. ‘Far too many of you have been lost for me to get cold feet now,’ he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation for the future viewers.

“I’ve already spent quite a lot of my own mana to possess this young man,” Gerald forced his host to say. What was his name again…? He focused, face visibly tightening before his eyes widened in realization. “Jerry! Huh, it’s so close to my name.” He winced and made a mental note to himself to delete that part of the video. “It was difficult, y’know,” he said, pacing around in Jerry’s underwear with very little shame. He couldn’t help but strut, already enjoying the tight muscle in this youthful form. “I had to float into his cute little butt to take him over.”

Gerald grinned and slapped Jerry’s butt, enjoying the slight jiggling. He thought back earlier today as he launched into a story of how he had taken Jerry over for his class.

Gerald’s misty form had crawled through the apartment building’s pipes, searching for a nice and hot host that would catch people’s eyes while he tried to educate them. Then, he found Jerry exiting the shower and clad in just a pair of new-age briefs. Gerald stared at it in confusion, unsure if this is really what the young ones were really wearing. ‘Am I getting old?’ Gerald had briefly mused before launching himself towards Jerry’s ass.

“AH! Woah, ahhh…!” Jerry collapsed on his stomach, ass facing the ceiling as Gerald’s essence took him over. “Ah, pl-please… help…!” gasped Jerry, his hips thrusting on their own as he lost consciousness.

“Mmm, nice…” Gerald muttered as he sat up. He rubbed his stomach and then his bare, youthful legs. “It’s been a while since I was someone so young. And so hairless,” he chuckled.

“And that’s what happened,” he finished for his class. “It was lucky that this young man enjoys filming so much. Now I’ve got a nice and high-quality camera for this lesson rather than some janky phone.” It truly had been serendipity for him. Gerald giggled as he sat cross-legged in front of the camera, enjoying just how his borrowed form felt so exposed and yet so confident in his near-nudity. “So, I’ve got a dilemma. I want to move on and yet I’m pretty much exhausted my mana supplies—the essence of the soul. Say I even got into the trouble and I have to evacuate for whatever reason. What could I do in this situation?”

Gerald waited a quick second before continuing, “If you don’t know, that’s fine. This technique’s quite advanced. Not even some of our more veteran community members have even mastered it. Yours truly, however,” Gerald paused to place a hand on his chest, making sure to lightly tweak a nipple, “is well-versed enough in the arts to enlighten you.”

It wasn’t a secret nor difficult to figure out the theoretical part, but it was a challenge to divert the flow of energy instead of letting it be lost to entropy. It was similar to having a rush of anger and trying to convert the energy of that anger to something productive. In other words, it was turning anger to passion, turning sadness to compassion, and turning joy to kindness. The emotion behind it was just as important, if not more so, than the actual intention. 

‘Easier said than done,’ Gerald thought. ‘Honestly, I’d have to do a one-on-one with all of these new possessors for them to even get proficient at it. However, just imparting the knowledge would be enough… for now, at least.’

“Now, I have invited my host’s friend to come over soon. Before he arrives, I’m going to start masturbating my host’s body and preparing my mana.” One of the ways that mana flowed was through bodily fluids, with semen being one of the most potent ones. The emotions surrounding a climax allows a large flow of magic to surge through and even be present in the semen that one shoots at that moment of peak pleasure. “I won’t use my own mana,” summarized Gerald, “but instead use this young man’s mana from his own climax to possess his friend, Mike.”

Gerald was about to continue, but bit his lower lip as he heard the faintest knock from the front door. Then, Mike’s voice called out to be let in.

Grinning, Gerald placed a finger to his lips and winked at the camera. “Let the show begin.” It wasn’t difficult to begin jacking off in this youth’s body. Even stroke felt like a lightning strike and even gasp was just fuel to Gerald’s fiery lust--now reborn in this young vessel… for the time.

“C-C’mon in,” Gerald forced Jerry to say. He had left the apartment’s front door unlocked on purpose. With any luck, Mike would get curious and explore the lustful noises straight to Jerry’s room. “Door’s unlocked.” Everything was falling into place. Gerald had seen a few pictures of Mike. He was a cute ginger with a good body that used to play hockey in high school. Though his sports days were behind him, Mike still regularly went to the gym to keep a nice form. “Mmm…!” The thought of taking over another young hunk, one with fiery curly hair that was so much like his own during his teenage years, almost made Gerald cum on the spot.

“Hurry up…!” Gerald hissed. Just how much more did his thick cock need to finally cum. It was such a tease--to be on the verge of cumming but not getting there quite yet. “You stupid fucking himbo, fucking cum already!” Although he was on the verge of running out of time, Gerald couldn’t help but find the verbal abuse arousing as well. “Cum for me, boy. Lemme feel that stallion cock of yours burst all over your hairless, himbo body…”

“Jerry? That you? What’re you doing…?” Gerald could hear Mike’s approaching footfalls, and that only made the whole situation more erotic. Before losing his body, Mike would see his best friend cum all over himself like a shameless exhibitionist. And then, Gerald would do the same thing to Mike. Forget the class or keeping the peace, Gerald could only think of hopping between men and turning each of them into cum-obsessed cocksuckers.

“Hrrngh! Oh god…!” 

Yes… it was approaching. All Gerald needed to really turn this body on as he cranked the cock was a bit of foreplay. His core was beginning to tense, and he could feel himself rush past the point of no return.

Right at the precise moment, the door opened. “Jerry, what the fuck?!” Mike cried out as he saw his best friend beating his meat without a lick of shame.

Grining, Gerald forced Jerry to shout, “I’m fucking cumming…!” as torrents of cum shot high into the air in Mike’s direction.

‘Now, give me your body, boy.’

Riding that climatic wave, Gerald used the large pool mana that Jerry’s young body was shooting to propel his soul forward. Even though all of his own energy was spent, he felt rejuvenated, as though he was 20 years younger, as Jerry came. However, just like a normal wave crashing into the sea, it would not last forever. The energy could not be stored, only spent in that very moment; but that small burst in power was all Gerald needed as he dove into Mike’s body.

“Oomph!” Mike huffed as the force of Gerald diving into his body was enough to knock him off balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground, body convulsing as an invisible, unknowable force began to take him over. “Wh-What the fuck…?!” was all he could say as a cold and numb sensation spread from the tips of his fingers and toes into his core. “H-Help… ohh… please don’t…” Mike reached a trembling arm towards the doorknob, his fingers twitching as they tried to find anything to grab onto.

By the time Mike’s fingers gripped the brass knob, Gerald was already in control. “Mmm… delicious.” Something that Gerald noticed from certain bodies was that they somehow had some kind of spiritual ‘flavor.’ Mike reminded him of strawberries in a shortcake somehow. He licked his lips and chuckled at the light bristle of Mike’s bushy and manly beard. “Trying to be a real man, boy?”

Gerald forced Mike to sit up and then lie on his stomach. “Just a young man trying to be a big boy,” he chuckled as he positioned Mike’s ass high in the air, wiggling his hips the whole time. “But then a real man like Gerald took over my body. All with my best friend’s spunk as a springboard. God, what kinda friend--what kinda man--am I for letting that happen?”

A horrible idea suddenly crossed Gerald’s mind. Crawling back into Jerry’s room, Gerald opened Mike’s mouth and began to suck the remaining cum off of Jerry’s still twitching cock. “God, Mike, you’re so virile. I’m so glad you’re this cumslut’s friend,” said Gerald. Then he realized that he was still supposed to be explaining a lesson. 

Grabbing the camera, Gerald focused it on Mike’s face and began to speak. “Well, did you see that? I was all out of mana, but masturbating with a man’s other body, I was able to use his energy to possess this hunk of meat.” To illustrate his point, Gerald stripped most of Mike’s clothes until he was down to his boxer briefs. “See? And--” he stopped as he heard the front door open.

“Jerry? You home? What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?”

Jerry’s father. A tall and broad-shouldered man that, from what Gerald could tell from Jerry’s memory, wasn’t particularly fond of Mike due to his… ‘lifestyle.’ Was it due to something repressed? Mike certainly seemed to think so, but Gerald couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Taking a look around and seeing the scene before him, Gerald began to internally panic--twisting Mike’s generally nonchalant expression into a stressed grimace.

‘Shit. His son’s unconscious, covered in cum,  and his best friend’s stripped down to his underwear.  If I saw this scene I’d think Mike was trying to date-rape my son! Don’t think I’ll be able to simply laugh off this little excursion. But… the only way to get out of this would be…’

Gerald had never attempted a double possession, with or without an explosive orgasm catapult. Was it a good thing that the camera was still recording? He wasn’t sure anymore. To be frank, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Loud, boisterous footfalls continued to ring in his ears.

Even in times of danger, Gerald knew he could rely on his libido to get him out. Throwing Mike’s underwear away, no longer caring about maintaining any sense of professionalism, Gerald got to work. Using what was left of Jerry’s cum as makeshift lube, he began to explore Mike’s tasty body with horned-up haste.

“The hell’s that, Jerry? Got a girl over?” Jerry’s father called out again. Gerald couldn’t help but giggle in-betweens his moans. If only he knew.

Mike’s gruff voice contrasted so wonderfully with his high-pitched and needy groans. His back arched and his toes curled as Gerald continued to beat his dick. The other hand freely explored the nice pelt of orange hair that coated Mike’s body.

‘What I wouldn’t give to just have a day with this guy,’ thought Gerald. A few tweeks of the nipples and he could already feel an orgasm building up. Just a few more minute and vigorous strokes and he’d be home free. “C’mon, cum for me…! Just a bit more.”

Jerry’s door flew open for the second time that day, and this time Jerry’s father roared in horror at the scene before him. “MIKE! What the fuck are you doing?! Jerry?!”

‘An audience,’ Gerald thought, smirking at the older man. ‘And not a bad looker either.’

“Hey, daddy-o,” Gerald forced Mike to say. He thrust into his grip, gyrating his hips as though to show off what his body could do to Jerry’s father. “Like the show? Have a seat, I can do so much for you if you want. I don’t mind some audience participation.” To emphasize his own point, Gerald raised a hand with a bit of pre-cum and slowly licked it off--savoring the sweet flavor.

Jerry’s father, mouth slightly agape and expression somewhere between horror and arousal, just stared at Gerald abusing Mike’s body. “Y-You’re sick,” he finally said, eyes glued to Mike’s swinging cock as it twitched. “What did you do to Jerry…?”

“Same thing I’m gonna do to you, daddy!” Gerald cried out in glee as Mike’s abused cock shot the first few rounds of semen. He bit his bottom lip, moans just barely muffled, as Mike’s hips naturally thrust with each shot. As the orgasm reached its end, Mike’s body began to tremble and grow limp as Gerald shot himself out. He rushed through the air and quickly dove right into Jerry’s father through his large chest.

“Hurugh! Ohh, what the fuck…?!” Unlike Mike, Jerry’s father remained standing even after Gerald dive bombed into his chest. However, despite his stronger will, he was unable to stop the tidal wave that crashed over his body. His broad arms gripped the door frame for support as his knees bent from the pressure. 

The invasive presence washed over him, filling him up slowly. It wasn’t unlike the first time his ex-wife had pegged him. The fear that came from being filled for the first time was matched only by the pleasure that followed. Just the thought of that night made his cargo shorts tighten. He knew that he should’ve been afraid and even outraged, but his body betrayed him in favor of the invasive presence. “M-More, please fuck me more…!” he whispered as his grip on the door frame tightened. Sweat dripped from his body as his soul let the tides carry him to a blissful and erotic rest.

“And that class,” Gerald forced his host to say, “is how you use your host to your advantage. Now, this is a more advanced technique, so don’t worry if you find it tricky at first.” Bill, Jerry’s father, was far more comfortable to Gerald than Jerry or Mike. The beefy look and authoritative voice also helped Gerald really get into the persona of a professor. It was like putting on a custom before getting into character. “But, as you can see from my improvised lesson plan, it’s possible to even chain multiple possessions in just one day! Really beats having to wait for the refractory period to end, huh?” He chuckled in Bill’s deep baritone, hands on his stomach as he felt Bill’s stolen body jiggle and quake with life. This was more like it.

And with the lesson done, Gerald now had plenty of time on his own to get familiar with Bill. Maybe Jerry and Mike would like to get involved as well…

[ruruvxz]

hello! new reader here. i think hanni would write romantic love songs!

“My Dearest Clementine”

Hanni Pham x fem!reader

↳ synopsis: You and your overachieving (ex)girlfriend broke up, but little did you know, she still hasn't gotten over her little clementine. And what's better than food to get into a woman's heart? A good serenade.

↳ cw: foul mouth reader, reader once again is lowkey so mean, breakup, established relationship, comfort, fluff

↳ word count: 2.1k

a/n: omg my first ever anon, im tweaking out, but i agree she definitely would make/cover love songs about reader. and she’d put her whole heart into the performances too… she’s such a cutie pie nfgagggghhhhhh fun fact this was originally a jihyo fic but then i thought really hard, and decided on not making it about her. oh and this is song is clementine by grant perez heheheheh

Skimming through the channels, you really couldn't help but be so agitated by everyone broadcasting this god-awful music show. "God, do these people only watch one thing, and why does it have to be music shows of all things?" You huffed to yourself, whilst aggressively mashing the poor remote. To be honest you'd be the first one to admit that you did enjoy all the award shows and music festivals. Hell, you've even been to your fair share, but do all these channels have to screen the same thing?

It's been the same MAMA award show on almost every channel, even networks that talked about important news, couldn't help but talk about it. Almost as if there wasn't anything else of importance to speak about, making your blood boil even more at the thought.

However, your visceral hatred for music programs wasn't always like this, well, not before at least. You used to adore watching the latest performances, always admiring the work put into performing on stage. It came to the point where you'd buy tickets for venues near your apartment. Despite not always recognizing everyone performing, you'd always sit through every performance, all the while waiting for that one special person to take the stage. Embarrassingly your true intentions were to go watch your then-girlfriend, Hanni, and cheer her on from the sidelines.

That was before, and now, the one who you called your one true love, had just recently shattered your heart into pieces because of work.

All the memories of her loving presence came back flooding into your mind, like how she'd escape practice using Minji's help just to find herself wrapped around your arms. Everything was just too much, the fact she would leave you to save face just enraged you further. "Argh! I am not about to reopen old wounds! Leave me alone you— minx!" You yelled at the screen, before throwing profanity after profanity, like some madwoman trying to stop the voices in her head. At this point, your neighbors were on the verge of sending a wellness check to the apartment.

Your rage was at a tipping point when you saw her gorgeous face popping up on the screen. You held up the remote, ready to shatter the poor television by projectile throwing the remote at the screen. It wasn't until your phone started vibrating erratically that snapped you out of your female rage. Holding your hand out and snatching the phone from the coffee table, you put the speaker to your ear.

"Yeah? Who is this?" You asked curiously, taking a mental note of how the caller's number looked eerily familiar, summing it up to being a coworker.

"Hey, I know we aren't close, but my friend needs a favor." The woman on the other side spoke with a soft and soothing voice, it sounded familiar, though the loud sounds of chanting made it hard to decipher who was on the other end. Thinking for a moment, you took your gaze out from the phone and to the television screen, biting your teeth as you saw New Jeans without Hanni nor Danielle. Sighing in relief you didn't have to see your stunningly aggravating ex-girlfriend.

Still reminiscing about all the times she's carefully and delicately peeled various fruits for you to eat without you even asking. You started to drift off thinking of ways to get her back, before snapping out of your pitiful daydreams, just to respond to the woman on the phone. "Uhm, not to sound round or anything, but who is this? I mean I'd love to do you a favor but—" You rightfully questioned, since this was just such a perplexing thing to ask someone, especially since you had no memory of them.

"Listen I’m…a friend of a friend...?" She spoke unsurely.

"Look, I'm really busy at the moment, I've got a maximum of 30 seconds before the next song starts..." The woman spoke, while you sat there still trying to puzzle together who she was. "It's just, my friend REALLY—" she exasperated the 'really' as much as her voice could. "Wants you to watch the MAMA performance today."

"What... I'm sorry, with all due respect, that's such an odd demand. I must emphasize that I don't know you, and you're not making the effort to state who you are." You commanded at the mic before the call closed, the woman on the other end not wanting to argue with you.

Before you could interrogate me further, the speakers connected to the television erupted loudly with my nose, the screams and praises abundantly clear. And of all the songs it could blast powerfully loud, it was "How Sweet" by NewJeans, but all that you could notice was Danielle throwing the phone to one of the staff before her muscle memory pushed through. (And that Hanni, who was previously sitting perfectly fine with the other members wasn't going to perform the song with them.)

As quickly as you comprehend the song was playing, you put down the volume to a bearable state. Admittedly you still felt a bit creeped out by that call, but then again compared to the phone calls and letters you received from crazed lovers, it wasn't the worst thing you've gotten.

Suddenly a sinister realization hit you, other than working, you didn't do much during your day off, only thing mildly interesting happening today on my day off was this fuck ass show. And if that caller's so-called "friend" wanted you to watch the performances, you'd do just that. So that's how you decided that you'd spend your precious time letting out your toxic rage on these performances in the comfort of your own home.

The time flew so quickly, and most if not all the artists were so enjoyable, but then, the performance you had dreaded the most was about to happen. However, a part of you was quite ecstatic to watch that dreadfully alluring woman fail miserably on stage. (But be honest, Hanni never does, she always looks perfect doing what she loves, not the mention how elegant she sounds when she sings.)

"God Hanni, even till this day you're insufferable. Fuck." You screeched, as the painfully beautiful memories of her flooded your brain, while all you could do was continue to shove chips into my mouth, eating them up with a bittersweet rage. But with your prior knowledge, before the performance started, the artists were given about a 10-minute break to get all the equipment and stage ready. So you were left with your heart racing inside your chest.

After a dreadful wait, you watched as the dim lights began to slowly light the stage with a warm spotlight, and the LED backboard displayed a beautiful orange orchard. It took you aback since Hanni’s most recent solo tracks never mentioned anything about flowers or fruits. You hated to admit that no matter what you still supported her career to the bitter end of your relationship, so every little detail about her was engraved into your mind. But oh hell, if it's a mess up, even better for you right?

"Ah, hello everybody. I hope you've been enjoying the performances today. Everyone is so good!—" Hanni spoke, the crowd roared at her words, and the camera flashed to her coworkers smiling proudly at her words.

"I understand everyone wants my more recent solo songs, but I wanted to showcase a new song. I made it about someone close to me." She continued, while even more mental anguish bubbled up inside your head by how she spoke so softly about the song, and how you assumed she moved on so quickly.

"I hope you all will enjoy this performance." That was the last thing she said before the backtrack began to play. It was a gentle stroke of a guitar before the other members of the band continued to play to the rhythm. The song continued as you leaned closer into the TV, using your remote to turn up the music playing from the speakers.

“Color it gray...” She sang, your heart thumping out of your chest, your mind drifting to the moments leading to your eventual fallout.

“Until I forget you

Like I never met you” The memory of her pleading you to forget about whatever connection you both shared because she didn’t want to drag your career down. Her tears still linger in your mind.

“My dearest, my dearest Clementine” She continued, looking back at the first time she ever spoke so dearly about you, using ‘Clementine’ as a term of endearment because you both cringed at the thought of calling each other ‘baby’ or anything of that sort.

“Color it gray

Until I forget you

Like I never met you”

“My dearest Clementine”

“Throw it away

But close enough to you” Her voice strained by her sorrow.

“Cause although I hate you

I will still fall in love, my Clementine”

“Every time, always”

“No matter how hard I try”

“My Clementine, every time”

You're always on my mind” She ended, fixing her gaze to the camera, looking longingly, as if she was looking at something— no someone through the screen.

You watched in disbelief as she closed up her performance, and walked off the stage, still wearing the matching dragonfruit and orange necklace you bought together. It was a few minutes sitting in utter bewilderment before getting a call on your cellphone. All you could do is weakly pick it up, while still being in complete shock at what you just watched, and without checking the contact you forced yourself to speak up, "Uh..." with a very long pause, you resumed "Hello."

"Clementine!" The voice on the other line spoke loudly, there was no other person who called me that sickening nickname other than the one and only Hanni Pham.

"I thought I blocked you!" You shouted defensively at your phone trying to get this woman to hang up.

"Yeah! But you never blocked Danielle since she never really messaged you, haha!"

"Just leave me alone you freak!" You argued loudly, "I'm hanging up on you Han—" Before you could press, block caller, you heard her scream from the other side.

"No wait!"

"You saw my performance right?"

"Uhm... I wouldn't say I didn't." You awkwardly admitted, still trying to avoid answering her questions.

You sat in awkward silence for a while before she spoke again, "Please, I know you— we weren't the most mature people, but please give me one more chance. I know I shouldn't be asking you on the phone…” You hear a faint sigh before Hanni carries on with her whole speech. “but I don't know any other way to contact you without you running in the opposite direction."

Rolling your eyes behind the phone, you took in a deep breath and analyzed the situation before making a very calm, calculated response. "No! Die in a ditch, Hanni! You dumped me! Then made a song with my nickname and aired it out to everyone!"

"No! No! No wait! Please! Clementine! That's the only way to get through to you! Please Y/N, I wouldn't be begging like this for anyone else."

"Ugh... fine! We'll talk about this later once you're done with work alright? Besides you shouldn't be stressed during award shows, it shows."

"Really?!" She questioned, a bit shocked that you would even give her the time of day.

"Yeah, whatever, don't overwork yourself."

"Thank you so much, I promise I won't, thanks for caring so much, even with everything I’ve done."

"Yeah yeah, you know my place, I'll cook something up, and bring you comfortable clothes, because I'm going to give you a piece of my mind."

"I should've expected that, don't worry, we'll talk, I promise, I’ll listen to whatever you have to say— and I promise I won’t make any more stupid decisions."

"Sure."

"I never break my promises clementine."

"Just— go back to work, Hanni! You're pissing me off, your sweet talk won't work on me this time, I'm gonna beat your ass no matter what."

"It was worth the try." She laughed before hanging up the phone, you swore you were gonna kill her when she came back home. But for now, you forced yourself off the couch and prepared everything for her arrival, after all, she never broke her promises.

[fairyhaos]

❖ let's get you to bed // kwon hoshi

requested by @phenomenalgirl9 : So its been really rainy in my city and I've been having a really huge work load cause we have a project closing soon. Can you write something with (all that and) Ramyeon + spam + kimchi + KWON HOSHI.

hoshi x gn!reader, 1.5k+ words

tags: dancer!hoshi again not rlly relevant to plot, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: food, reader is sick, pet names (baby)

notes: kinda incorporated a req into this sick fic that i wanted to write hehe. might also write another sick fic depending on if i have time,,,,

It’s a Friday. Soonyoung gets home when it’s well past 10 in the evening, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Neither is it totally out of the ordinary for you to be waiting on the couch, the TV set to a volume so low that there’s no way that you’re actually listening to it.

It’s not normal for him to be upset by that, though.

“Baby.”

You looked up at his voice, and you don’t even seem to notice the heavy disappointment in his words as you rub your eyes, voice all croaky as you smile. “Hey, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung frowns, taking off his shoes and dropping his bag by his bedroom door, before padding across the apartment and into the living room. “You’re sick.”

You nod, sniffing, before reaching over to the tissue box balanced on the arm of the couch. “I am.” A loud blow of your nose emphasises your point. 

Sighing, Soonyoung shakes his head. He crosses the living room, turning on the lights and turning off the TV. You hiss at the sudden brightness, holding your head, and he walks over to poke your forehead lightly, leaning down to look you right in the eye, his face set in an unhappy pout.

“You should’ve been resting, then,” he says, pouting even more. He holds a hand over your forehead, eyes softening when you lean into his hand. “Look at you, you’re burning up again.”

Outside, the wind howls harder, and the rain batters against the windows. It’s been thunderstorming for a good two weeks now, and you’ve managed to avoid getting sick for all that time. But, just yesterday, you’d caught the dreaded illness that had been going around, leaving you bedridden and incapable of going to work for two days straight.

Soonyoung is a big believer of rest being one of the best medicines for colds, so as he tweaks your nose disapprovingly while you try to explain that you stayed up to greet him, you know that he’s disappointed in your behaviour.

“Baby,” he says sadly, “you’re really sick. Your nose is all bunged up, and you have a really bad fever. Don’t you think you should’ve stayed in bed?”

Your face falls, sad that you’ve made Soonyoung sad, and your boyfriend smooths back your hair consolingly. You know that he’s scolding you like this because he cares about your health, but you still really wanted to see him.

“Wanted to see you before the day ended,” you admit, and he coos softly, fingers brushing over the top of your head before he stands up. “I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he says, all gooey soft, and no matter the situation, hearing and seeing your boyfriend becoming so devastatingly soft just for you always makes you flush. “But we gotta get you back to bed, baby. Come on. Up you get. Have you had any medicine yet?”

Soonyoung straightens, standing up properly, and you look up at him for a moment before giving him your biggest, wet puppy eyes, holding your arms out wide.

“Carry me?” you ask, and Soonyoung blinks down at you for a long moment.

But almost instantly, his face is breaking into a fond smile, lips curling upwards as he leans forward again so you can wrap your arms around his neck, humming happily when he lifts you with ease, carrying you back to your room.

Perks of having a dancer boyfriend: he can carry you when you’re sick.

He settles you under your covers, stroking the hair out of your face, lips twitching upwards as you sniff loudly to try and unblock your nose. 

“Cute,” he murmurs as he sits on your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and oddly, that small detail is infinitely reassuring to you. You want to laugh at how ridiculous it is that he finds you sniffling wetly to be something cute, too. but your head hurts too much to do so, and you feel really dizzy. Goodness, maybe you are really sick.

“Baby,” you mumble, and he hums to show he’s listening. “Baby, ‘m tired.”

Soonyoung laughs at that, nudging the side of his finger against your cheek affectionately. “I can imagine. Don’t go to sleep yet, though. You need to have some meds.”

He stands up, then, and a cold sense of panic washes over you, grabbing onto his hand before he can go too far.

“Don’t go,” you say to him, fingers enclosing around his cool wrist. Your own skin is crawling with an uncomfortable heat, and Soonyoung’s hand is a blessed relief. “Please, don’t go.”

Soonyoung looks pained, and he slides his hand down in your hold to intertwine your fingers. He kisses your knuckles, soft, and you almost think he’s going to stay before he releases your hand. “I need to get your medicine,” he says gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

You whine, disappointed, before your breath catches on a particularly nasty cough that dissolves into several more, leaving you gasping. Soonyoung’s hand is instantly on your back, rubbing circles, and his voice is quiet and concerned as he speaks again.

“See? You stay here, and I’ll get you something to ease your pain. Okay?”

Reluctantly, you nod, sinking back into the pillows as Soonyoung’s fingers brush over your forehead once more before he exits your room.

—

It takes half an hour for Soonyoung to come back.

You don’t notice, too preoccupied with how hard your head is pounding and how your tongue feels like it’s swelled up and is taking up far too much space inside your mouth. Nothing feels like it fits right.

Your nose is running really badly, too, and you don’t have any tissues in your room.

By the time Soonyoung comes back, you’re focused more on the box of tissues he has balanced on a tray, rather than the other things that are gently steaming alongside it.

He sets the tissues on the bedside table and you grab one immediately, wiping your nose and blowing loudly with an almost comical ‘honk’. Soonyoung chuckles, sitting down on your bed again and placing the tray on your knees.

“Here,” he says, drawing your attention to what else is on the tray, and you blink in surprise.

There’s a bowl of cup noodles in your lap, the steam wafting from the noodles and if your nose wasn’t so blocked, you know that is would have smelled incredible. You smile, touched, before Soonyoung leans over and turns on your bedside lamp and you gasp.

There are chunks of spam in the noodles, which is utterly delightful because he knows how much you love spam, but also…

“This is from my beloved kimchi stash,” Soonyoung informs you when you look up at him to see if you’re seeing this correctly. “The one that my mother made. Since my baby is so sick,” he says, pinching your cheek fondly, “I thought I really should give some to you.”

“Aw, thank you so much,” you say with a smile, and your voice comes out unexpectedly croaky, making Soonyoung chuckle. He pinches your cheek again, adoring.

“Go on. Eat up.”

You can’t really eat much, taking small bites of the noodles, because as much as you want to simply devour the cheap carbs and artificial flavourings, your head is still, admittedly, spinning a little too much. Soonyoung brings a glass of water to your lips just as your swallowing your fifth mouthful, gentle and attentive.

He makes you take some pills then, too, and you try and finish off your meal. But it’s late, and the meds are making you feel drowsy, so you’re only halfway through when your eyes begin to droop.

“Hey, hey, careful,” Soonyoung laughs softly, fingers tilting your head upwards when it lolls dangerously, chopsticks full of kimchi hanging limp in your fingers. “Okay. Let’s get you to sleep, baby.”

He removes the tray from your lap, making soft noises back at you when you whine at the loss of your ramyeon and kimchi. 

“I’ll give it to you again tomorrow,” he promises, and you feel placated at that.

You’re horribly uncoordinated, due to your sickness and your sleepiness, and you hum appreciatively as Soonyoung takes one of the tissues and wipes down your mouth, before taking another tissue and blowing your nose for you too.

It’s a sweet gesture, albeit a little clumsy, and it has you smiling drowsily up at him.

“I love you,” you murmur as he tucks you in, his fingers tracing gentle patterns across your cheek. “Love you, Soonyoungie.”

“I love you too,” Soonyoung whispers back, and the sound of his voice is so soft. “My Y/N.”

Soonyoung is a gentle person at heart, full of precious love and the desire to love and be loved delicately. And it’s during moments like this that you can see that shining through.

Your eyes slip closed—warm, content, loved—and Soonyoung presses a feather-light kiss to your head just before you fall away to dreamland.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

[sanguineterrain]

Hii I am more of a silent reader but really want to start making requests but if you don't like this request you totally don't have to do it. All so if this is too long sorry.

So maybe a Jason prompt with "why not them why me" like they have been spending more time with the Bat boys, making Jason jealous. They confesses they did it to be liked by her boyfriend's family.

Hey anon! Thanks for the request. I tweaked it a little, but it's got the same theme you requested. Hope you like!

jason todd x gn!reader. jealous/sad jason, happy ending, proposal, established relationship. he's the goodest boy. ft the batbros.

****

It's close to nine PM when Dick finally drops you off home.

You turn to Damian first and hold out your hand, expecting him to give you his usual handshake goodbye.

Instead, Damian pats your shoulder and gives you a nod. You blink, startled.

"Today was enjoyable," he says, holding the book about saltwater creatures that he got from the zoo. "I will inform Todd that he has chosen well."

In Damian speak, you may as well have gotten a hug and a blessing.

"Oh," you say, trying not to tear up. "Thank you, Damian. I had a good time, too. Thank you both for spending the day with me."

"This was a test," Damian says, and Dick rolls his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Dami, stop calling it a test. It wasn't a test."

"Richard, I don't know why you insist on lying. They obviously have figured out that it was a test. In any case, they've passed, so it doesn't matter."

You hide a smile as Dick gives up and gets out of the car. He opens your door.

"I'll see you later, Damian," you say. "Good luck with your science test."

"I do not need luck," Damian replies. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye."

You follow Dick into your apartment building. You're happy; last week, you spent the day with Tim and Cassandra. The week before that, you officially met Bruce and Alfred.

Dick and Damian were the last "test," and the ones you were most nervous about. From what Jason's told you about his family, Dick and Damian, while total opposites in temperament, are extremely shrewd in their judgments of character, and not easy to please. For all that Dick is friendly and warm, you know he's studying your every move to ensure that you're a good match for his little brother. Not that you blame them; you're sure that being children of a billionaire has resulted in some awful dates.

Today was your fourth outing with Dick, and your second with Damian. At first, Damian seemed totally closed off to you, which you understood. You're his brother's partner; what twelve year old gives a shit about that?

But you feel you've made good progress today. You feel like the Wayne's really like you, and don't just tolerate you because they have to.

"Please don't listen to him," Dick says while you wait for the elevator. "Damian thinks every social interaction is a test. We're working on it."

"It's okay," you say, because it is. "I get it. I'm glad I passed."

Dick shakes his head. "It was never a matter of passing. We thought you were great the first time Jason introduced you to us."

"Dick..." You melt at that, both out of relief and fondness. Dick is probably your favorite one of Jason's brothers, after Damian, of course. He's the most sympathetic to your attempts at connecting with the family and the one who's the gentlest with you.

He smiles, all sunshine, and you're abruptly glad that Jason has a family like this one.

"Are you gonna ask him this week?" Dick asks.

You bite your lip, unable to hide your smile. "I think so. What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect. He doesn't like all that fuss. And you'll be letting him know that you want to marry just him. Not when you're dressed up, on a date, but all of him."

"I do," you say, voice thick. "I do want that, D."

He nods, eyes soft. "I know. I'll see you next week," he says. "Don't worry about the dinner, okay? You're practically family now. And I expect to see a ring!"

He pulls you into a quick hug, and you sag in relief. You did well. It's been confirmed.

"Thank you," you say softly.

The elevator doors open. Dick lets you go, and you wait for the doors to close before you go to your apartment.

"You're out late."

You jump, almost dropping your bag of zoo souvenirs. Jason is leaning against the couch, arms folded. You laugh a little, holding your chest.

"Jay, you scared me! Jeez."

You go to him and lean in for a kiss. He dodges you, slipping away to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

You blink owlishly, trying to process what just happened.

"Um," you begin. "Is everything okay?"

"So where was it this time?" Jason asks. "Escape room? Art museum? Some other place you can't be seen with me?"

"Jason, what are you talking about?"

He finally looks at you. His gaze is intense, lethal. It makes you take a step back. He turns away.

"Where'd you go today? And be honest."

"We went to the zoo, and then we went to dinner. Me, Dick, and Damian. Jay, what's this about?"

Jason looks up. His gaze is no longer lethal; now it's just melancholy.

"Are you with me to get to them?" he asks.

"Get to who?"

"The Bats. Gotham's finest. Bruce Wayne's rag-tag group of orphans he can't stop collecting."

"Are you asking me if I'm in this relationship to get to your family?" you ask, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking if you like my media-trained, not-undead family who you can actually spend time with publicly. I'm asking if you like my Boy Wonder brother, who'd probably show you a better time than I can."

"Jason Wayne, I have never cheated on you or thought about cheating on you. With Dick or anyone else," you say firmly. "Now, what's this about?"

Jason's face falls.

"You're right," he says quietly. "That was stupid 'f me to say. I know you're faithful, baby."

He won't look you in the eye now. It is reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship when Jason would retreat whenever you argued. It wasn't until you confronted him about it that you learned that he thought every argument was your last and that you'd break up with him the next day.

"Jay," you say, getting closer. "Something's obviously bothering you. Talk to me, please."

He stays quiet. You get close enough to touch him, but you don't, in case he's not ready to be touched yet.

"Why me?" he rasps.

"Why you what?"

He takes a sharp breath. "Why not them? Why me? Why d'you bother with me?"

"Jay, baby, where's this coming from? I don't bother with you, I love you. I am in a relationship with you because I want to be."

"You've hung out with them this whole month," he mumbles. "And I know we can't go out anytime 'cause I'm technically dead, but I just—I mean, we could work something out if you really wanna go. I wanna do that stuff with you too."

"Jason, no, no," you say, and reach for him. This time, he lets you pull him into a hug, and you kiss his chin. He makes a soft sound in his throat.

"Oh, honey, is that what this is about? You think I'm replacing you?"

"'S happened before," he mumbles, and you screw your face up so you won't cry at that.

"Jason, I—" You take a deep breath and release him until you're holding his hands. "Fuck me, I guess there's no time like the present."

Jason squints. "What're you—"

"I met them to ask for their blessing," you say before you can lose your nerve. "I hung out with them because I wanted to make sure they'd like me, and I should've told you, but I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"Keep what a surprise? Sweetheart, what's—"

You let go of Jason's hands and get down on one knee. Jason's eyes go wide.

"Holy fuck," he says, and you laugh wetly.

"Jaybird, we've been together for a long time, and I'm positive that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I hung out with your family this month so I could be sure that we'd get along. Because I know they're important to you, even if you have your rough patches."

"Holy fuck," Jason says again, eyes glassy.

You smile and pull out the black velvet box with the ring that Alfred had helped you choose.

"Jason Wayne, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you—mmph!"

Jason is on you in an instant, and the box tumbles from your hand. He presses you to the floor and kisses you hard, his hands squeezing your waist.

"Jay, this part is supposed to come after we get married, not before," you say when he finally lets you break for air.

"What can I say? Commitment gets me hot."

You wrap your arms around his neck, comfortable under him. Jason kisses you again, softer and sweeter.

"So is that a yes?" you ask.

"It's an emphatic yes, oui, si, ja, da..."

"Okay, I get it, Bruce put you in private school," you say, rolling your eyes. Jason pinches your hip and you squeal.

He rolls you over so you're atop him.

"I'm sorry I said those things," he says. "I didn't—I know you wouldn't do that. I was just upset, but I shouldn't have accused you out of anger."

"I forgive you," you say and kiss his temple. "It's not the last fight we'll have, and if I was afraid of a few arguments, I wouldn't ask you to marry me, Jay. Thank you for communicating."

"Fuck, I love ya," he whispers, and hugs you tighter.

"Ditto!" you say, and he snorts.

"So my entire family knows I'm getting married then, huh?"

"What? No. I only told Dick."

Jason laughs. "Yeah. Everybody definitely knows."

"Jay, I didn't mean..."

"Aw, baby, no, it's okay. I never thought I'd actually make it this far, so it's really okay." He kisses your nose when you start to frown. "And I'm the first Wayne to get married for real. Suck it, B!"

"Please don't put that in your vows, Jay."

Jason grins so hard, his cheeks puff out.

"No promises, fiance."

[pursuitseternal]

Ok, ok, this is totally self indulgent.. but, could you maybe do a petite/curvy f! Reader and Astarion appreciating her in the most NSFW way? Ty!

Oh sweet Anon… Here you go, darling:

“I can be quick…”

CW: quick, rough sex, body worship, breast play, tittyfucking, more NSFW, just a hint of praise and dirty talk with your Vampire Rogue

Rogue Astarion x curvy female reader | Explicit | 1.3K of worship sex

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“Tch,” Astarion sucks his teeth at you, that sweet little smirk as you trudge up the path. It’s been a long day of walking, and the height of the mountain is wearing on you. “Want me to carry you?” he offers, a teasing lilt in his silken voice.

“Don’t make offers you don’t intend to keep,” you huff, wiping the sweat off your brow. “Being cradled in your powerful arms sounds much nicer that hiking any longer you know…”

Before you even finish your words, he’s grabbed you by your middle and heaved you over his shoulder. “Come now, darling,” he giggles at you over his shoulder, “you know I’m good for any excuse to hold your warm, supple flesh against me…” He climbs as you sway, his hands slowly, distinctively, sliding up the soft buckskin of your breeches, exploring higher up your thighs.

Sometimes, you forget just how strong he is, your well-fed vampire rogue. How he can crush your enemies with a single arm, or evicerate them without blinking. Carrying you doesn’t even bring a sweat to his brow. No, he’s striding even faster… swaying and whistling as he’s gaining on the rest of your party, who are nearly half a mile ahead.

But then, he curves off the path. A small grassy grove. The true destination for his haste. “You know, I am rather self indulgent, and I just don’t think I’ll make up the mountain without a little… respite. And besides, the way your breasts keep swinging over my shoulder, well…”

He sets you down on the mossy ground, slowly, he crawls on top of you, so much taller, leaner, wiry and demanding as he presses his weight into your frame. You feel it then, as he presses his hips hard between your thighs. “You’ve made me so hard for you, darling, and I think one favor deserves another, don’t you?”

“That’s your idea of respite, is it?” you giggle, his hands tracing up and down the curves of your body, clawing into the top of your breeches already shimmying them down your hips.

“Seems only fair. Besides, we’re so far behind already, I’m sure they won’t even notice. And… I can be quick,” he growls above you, “after holding you so close already, I doubt I could last long even if I wanted to…” he runs his tongue up the side of your neck, lips caressing your ear as he rasps, “which I don’t at any rate.”

He exhales heavily, his hand tugging the last of your buckskin breeches to your ankles. “Gods, you smell beyond enticing, darling, but first, I’ll need you completely bared for me to properly worship every inch of your feminine figure.”

Your fingers already tug at the laces of your tunic, hoping he isn’t in so much a hurry that he tears it to shreds. But by the lustful glow in his crimson eyes, the way he’s licking his lips and nearly snarling his fangs at you, you’re not sure how much longer he will wait.

He leans off you, pulling his own shirt off, unlacing his own breeches just enough to let that protruding length spring free. Gods, you’re glad you’ve made quick work of your own clothing, craving that wiry muscle and hard body of his crushing you. The instant your breasts are freed, he bears down on you, lips and tongue feasting on their fullness. Teasing your nipple until it aches from being drawn to straining hardness. His hand massages the other, his cold, strong fingers tweaking that nipple to equally exhilarating pain.

You gasp, arching under his body, kicking off the rest of your boots, your breeches, aching to wrap your thighs around him completely. He just laughs, low and deep in his chuckle, letting the reverberations tickle your breast as he switches to suck on the other. “So eager, so impatient, I suppose I am too, eager to give every one of your sweet curves a good fuck,” he growls into the pillow flesh beneath his mouth.

“Then do it,” you moan, mewling as he takes your hands from the grass to have you press the fullness of your breasts together. You laugh, aching and uneasy, as he shifts above you. Hand on his cock, he pushes it into your ample bosom, that seeping head brushing against your lips. Gods, he’s so big, so naughty, and you lick him as he thrusts again, his groan as you sweep your tongue over that bitter cum makes you giggle.

“You filthy, brilliant darling,” he growls, thrusting all the way until his balls smack into your breasts. Making that length push far into your mouth. You suck, hard, making your lips pop as he withdraws only to thrust harder and faster. He groans with each shove into you, as if he’s been envisioning this for hours. You catch him in your mouth each time, little sucks and swirls of your tongue stoking him into a frenzy. You can feel it by how his cock twitches, how it thickens as he grows closer to coming, at how he just can’t slow himself. So you suck him hard and long each time.

“Gods, I’ll come if you keep that up…” he groans. And, with a mischievous laugh, you let your teeth drag softly all along him as he shoves through your bosom.

He snarls, clambering off you, pulling you by your hands to roll with him into the grass until he’s laid flat on his back. He clutches you to his chest, letting you sprawl and straddle on top of him, hands and fingers and nails clawing into the crests of your hips. “Fuck me, little darling,” he groans, taking his cock in one hand, the other runs two long fingers into the heated slick that pools between your thighs.

You sink onto that long, cool shaft, letting your whole body accept him until he fills you to bursting. You can feel him, already so close, hands running up and down, worshiping the curve of your hips, the crest of your belly, before he slinks a single finger into your folds. Catching your clit just right. His eyes watch where you join, licking his lips at the sight of how he spears into you. And he returns the ardor with the circling sweeps of his finger. You tremble, you shake.

Gods, all this because he carried you, because he couldn’t get close enough to you until he was buried so deep, there was no more room for him. You splay your hands on his chest, riding him, wriggling as he keeps that finger crooked just right to pleasure you. He’s insistent, chasing his climax with every clench of his body, every scrape of his fingers on your skin. Your hips buck unsteady, riding how he thrusts up into your tight channel with each sink and slap of your thighs on his.

His hand grips hard into you, forcing you to ride faster, his voice a snarling groan as he pushes hard into you. You slam hard on his cock, crying as you come too, the pulsing of his head against the end of your channel making you shake. Making you collapse against his chest. Making you pant against the cool, hard caress of his skin on your hot and flushing cheek.

Both of you pant, catching your breath, as he places a kiss against the top of your head. He chuckles, “Are you still going to need me to carry you, darling?”

You lift your head, throwing him a sated, but lustful smirk, “Most definitely, my rogue. Most definitely.”

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💌always happy to have the requests ❤️

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can you do Embry X reader where reader and the other imprints go out for a girls night but forget to tell the shifters about it so they start freaking out and calling/searching for them and everything but then the girls get back to Emily's drunk at five in the morning. You can choose how the boys react when they get back

Embrys POV:

I open our bedroom door, panicking. "Babe?!" I call out again. I can't smell or hear her. She's not here.

Sam comes up behind me and sighs, "she's not here, is she?" He's talking about Emily. But now, I don't know where my love is. "Y/n's not here either. Shit." I leave the room with Sam following behind me. Jared is standing at the door with his phone up to his ear. "Guys, Kim isn't answering me." I turn to Sam, who has a face that I have never seen on him. He's Alpha and always confident and strong. This is new to me.

"She has to be with Emily and Y/n." He pushes past us and starts jogging to the woods. Paul comes out from the bushes tweaking out. "Rachel.." Sam grabs his shoulder, and we all follow him to the woods.

Your POV:

No phones. Just you girls. No vampires. No fighting. Just you girls.

You relax in the chair at the bar. You sigh in content as the buzz hits you. Out of habit, you reach into your purse, searching for your phone. "Oh, yeah." You giggle, rememberingyou girls put them in Emily's kitchen. "Thank you, Emily, for planning this." Kim giggles, her straw making that loud sound as she sucks down the few drops out of her margarita. Emily finishes her beer and places the empty can on the table.

"Cigarette break?" You ask the girls. Rachel stands up quick. "Me." You get up as well and walk outside the glass doors. It is dark outside, and the only light is from the blue/green streetlight and the LED's from the bar. Behind the building is the highway of Forks. The cars are a bit loud. Pedestrians walk all around buildings. You are in awe of this feeling.

Rachel slides down the brick wall onto her bottom. You sit next to her and pull out your cigarettes. "Have you heard from Jake since he got back from his honeymoon?" You light yours up and then hand her the lighter. She takes a second to respond. "Nope! But that's okay. He's always been a damn simp. Of course, he'd shut everyone out, but Renesmee." She giggles. You laugh and puff on your cigarette.

Embry's pov:

The wind is howling through my ears as I quicken my speed. I'm terrified. I am going to go FERAL.

'It's okay. We will find them.' I hear Quil say to us. 'Shut up, Quil. Faster!' Sam urges.

Our eyes scan all around the trees that surround us. There's no sign! 'What if they got kidnapped?' Jared's stupid ass. I get angry and turn around on him, nipping at his ugly ass wolf leg. Paul pushes me off. 'FOCUS!'

Your POV:

"UGH! This is so fun!" Kim gushes. "We should probably head out. It's four in the morning." Emily giggles. Shit! "Yeah, yeah, we should." You slur. The drunkeness has got you.

Emily calls an Uber, and you guys get in.

Embry's pov:

We all sit together in the woods, trying to come up with a plan.

"I mean, do you think it has to do with vampires?" Jared asks. "Not sure. It's a high chance." Sam responds. I keep my eyes on my feet. A million of my thoughts are trampling me.

Your pov:

4:30.

You two stumble out of the Uber and into Emily's house. You girls take your phone off of the kitchen counter and turn them on. "I can't wait to tell Sam about all the fun we had!" Emily slurs and laughs. She falls into you. You laugh and hold her steady. "I'm agreed." You respond. Kim looks at you funny, "bitch, you mean 'I agree'?" Everyone bursts into heavy and loud laughter.

"What. The. Fuck." You all stop and turn to see angry Embry, Paul, Jared, and Quil. "Hey!" Emily waves. "Why so mad?" Kim walks up to Jared and pulls him into a hug.

You walk up to Embry. He grabs your arm and pulls you outside. "Hey! What's going on?" You ask. "Where the hell were you?" He growls. You've never seen him so mad at you. You were super confused. "Babe, it was girls' night. Emily planned it. Remember?" You softly hold his face and look into his eyes with softness to calm him down. "Nobody said a word. We were all looking for you girls. All night!" He pulls your hands off of his face. "But I thought..." He walks back inside, not letting you finish your sentence. You follow him and see Emily crying and Sam holding her. Paul is holding onto Rachel. Kim is crying into Jared. "I'm so sorry! I forgot to tell you guys! It's all my fault." Emily drunkenly cries.

Lunch time:

You woke up late due to being up all freaking night. You make Embry's lunch. You feel so guilty about what happened. He was distant in bed, just stayed on his side and went to sleep.

You set the plate down on the table, and his loud footsteps come up behind you. You turn to see the love of your life. He's shirtless, his hair is a bit messy, and he's Yawning. "Good morning, baby." You wrap your arms around his neck.

His warm arms wrap around you. His face nuzzles into your neck. "I'm so sorry." You whisper. He strokes your hair and shushes you. "It's okay. Just don't do that again, please." He says. You pull away from him and pull his neck down. You kiss him softly. He kisses back and puts his hands on your waist. "Can I make it up to you?" You mumble sensually. Your hand makes its way to the waistband of his underwear. He chuckles and then presses his body against yours. "Only if you want to." He responds.

Yup.

[aspiringsophrosyne]

What’s this season’s theme? They weren’t subtle about it. When the group asks her about Dohla, Allura almost literally turns to the camera and says: “Let’s just say being in dangerous situations with someone you’re close to can lead to friction.”

The show’s CRew drew considerable attention to this idea through Kima and Allura’s old friend, flashbacks to their adventuring days, Zerxus’ telling of the fall of Avalir, Scanlan’s failure to be fully present for either his daughter or Vox Machina, and the group splintering. On paper, this idea is fine, but in practice, its implementation is flawed.

Because what comes of all this setup? Scanlan steps away for Kaylie; what are the repercussions of that? While Keyleth and the twins break off from the rest, are they gone long? Does this season have a capstone with a potency similar to Bard’s Lament?

(For the record, I am neutral on having Bard’s Lament in Season 3, but excluding that eliminates one hefty bit of dramatic payoff. )

What’s interesting in hindsight is the unintentional, surprisingly substantial, and consistent theme that emerges. One that isn’t the Breaking of the Fellowship.

The twins exact their revenge on Thordak. Keyleth gets revenge on Raishan after Raishan gets hers on first the Ashari, then Thordak when he doesn’t provide her with her cure. Last season, Kaylie sought revenge but rejected it in the end, and now the Shorthalts are uncertain of where they stand. Percy wants to abandon vengeance, but Ripley forces his hand. After her fatal confrontation with Percy, the twins avenge him.

Noticing a pattern?

The script tells us this season’s heart is internal strife, but the action repeatedly shows us a revenge tale. With a strong through-line, marked thematic consistency, and multiple clear payoffs. Ironically, these elements develop organically, akin to mushrooms in the dark, shielded from the narrative heavy-handedness the spotlight would impose upon them.

With only a few tweaks, they could’ve had this plot laced up tighter than a 19th-century corset. Let the twins learn the identity of their mother’s murderer earlier, and let them get the last strikes on him. Give us the group HDYWTDT on Ripley. Let the anger Keyleth feels at Raishan initially block her from passing her earth trial—setting her up as a parallel to Percy; they both let go and walk out of this season alive—and you’ve cooked a full-course meal.

Instead of a retread, frame this story as an extension and escalation of the Briarwood arc—which established how self-destructive the old eye-for-an-eye can be—but this time for the villains: Thordak must be thwarted, and Ripley’s and Raishan’s respective revenge quests draw Vox Machina’s ire and ensure their downfall.

Because sometimes, one person’s vengeance is another person’s karma.

And if desired, you could build upon this idea even further in future seasons when the enemies waiting in the wings move to center stage. Some of them might be interested in payback.

The fact this secondary focus emerges so well and so naturally proves that this show's material is good enough that it doesn’t need bells and whistles or excessive exposition to establish and justify itself. Less-to-no spoon-feeding, keeping and bolstering what was great about the source material, and leaning into this revenge theme would’ve given us not just a much sounder narrative thread this season but a subtler and uncontrived one. And it wouldn’t have needed any extra time. It might’ve needed less if Ripley wasn't around as long.

This season didn't need an underdeveloped central theme that couldn't hold together for lack of payoff shoe-horned into it. It's a worse version of a problem season 2 had, where the idea of VM learning to not run from their problems made little sense in context and didn't really go anywhere for anyone except Scanlan.

All in all, it might be better to prioritize capturing what was great about the source material before adding to the story. Otherwise, you run the risk of throwing something in the stew that clashes with its other ingredients, and there'll be significant potential and several opportunities that could end up going to waste.

[starlightkun]

⏯ teaser word count: 839 | full fic: 9.5k ⏯ genre: fluff, established relationship, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, sequel to filler episodes, reader isn’t completely boring anymore! yay!, she’s still figuring it out a little bit but it’s not a full-fledged quarter life crisis anymore, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ warnings: the usual cursing, and reader gets creeped on briefly in a scene but gets out of there very quickly, and that’s really it! if i missed any please let me know ⏯ extra info: this is the sequel to filler episodes, it cannot be read as a standalone! ⏯ estimated release: saturday, august 3, 2024 3:00 p.m. eastern time

At the end of the show, you were sat at the band’s merch table. In addition to being the de facto tour manager and photographer/videographer, you also usually managed the merch table for Roses for Eyes. The headliner had plenty of crew to spare to work it, but you wanted to help however you could, and this was honestly one of your favorite parts. Various members usually came to hang out by the merch table and meet and talk with the concert goers, and you loved hearing all the praise that was showered on the guys. Almost nobody had heard of them before coming to the concerts, but it made your chest puff up with pride at how many people stayed just to tell the guys how much they loved their set.

Roses for Eyes didn’t have a lot of merch. In fact, they had exactly one kind of t-shirt, and CDs of their one and only semi-professionally recorded EP for sale. Which made your job easier, you just had to either hand them a CD, or ask their size in shirt.

“Oh my god, you’re here too!” Your next customers were the women who you had spent almost the whole concert with, their eyes sparkling with recognition and delight at you.

“Yes, I am!” You laughed as one reached out to fix your hair. “I’m everywhere, I swear. What can I get you guys?”

They each got a shirt, and a couple got CDs too. As you ran their cards and accepted their cash, they raved to you about the show.

“You know, I’d never heard of them before this, but they were so good!”

“That’s what everyone says,” you replied with a grin.

“I loved the first song they played, that was like—” She started mimicking the melody, and you recognized it immediately.

“Ah, ‘Lonely as Mars’!” You perked up. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“What’s your favorite song then?”

“Oh, I can’t say.” You grinned. “It’s not released yet…”

They all laughed and giggled at this. One peeked at the track list of the CD she had just bought from you again before looking up at you. “Guess we’ll have to wait until it’s released then, huh?”

“Yes, yes, please keep an eye out!” You couldn’t help it, you were proud of your boyfriend and the rest of your friends.

“Alright, beautiful, we’ll stop holding up your line.” One of them chuckled, giving your cheek a final tweak before the four of them moved over to the short line to chat with the band.

You couldn’t pause on that moment for too long, as more patrons came up to your table.

Once people had finally started trickling out of the venue, and you had no line left in front of either your merch table or to meet the band, you were unsurprised when Sungchan pulled up an extra folding chair next to you.

“You know,” he let out a sigh, scooting right up next to you until your legs were pressed together. “I think we need to completely deck you out in Roses for Eyes merch from head to toe.”

“One, you guys don’t even have that much merch. Two, I think all that would accomplish would be making me looking like a crazed fan.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I am your biggest fan,” you acquiesced with a giggle at how serious he looked, squeezing his leg. “But we need security to let me in, you know.”

“What about a shirt with my face on it?”

“I think that’d be even worse.”

“It can say ‘CREW’ on the back or something.”

You laughed again. “I did tell that guy I was working, you know. Which did nothing.”

“I know, baby, I’m not mad at you.” Sungchan put an arm around the back of your chair, leaning in closer to inform you, “I was up on stage wishing I could’ve been kicking his face instead of the bass drum.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t hop off stage just to beat up somebody in the crowd.” You whispered back. “Even if it would’ve been deserved.”

“God, I don’t know if I can take another month of hearing you get hit on from right next to me.” He was presumably referencing times like now, with you at the merch table and him nearby talking to patrons.

“You think I like hearing people compliment your tattoos as an excuse to feel up your arms?”

“I don’t let them!” He protested. “And sometimes they do actually like my tattoos!”

“I know, Sungchan,” you snickered. “It’s hard being the hottest couple ever, isn’t it?”

“God truly gives his toughest battles to his sexiest soldiers,” Sungchan joked back, letting his arm drop down to your waist.

“Hey, on the bright side, tomorrow is the Venue:Hell show,” you reminded him. “I’ll have Jeno and Jaemin and my other two much less sturdy friends there. Not to mention Anton, Sohee, and Seunghan.”

He didn’t seem much happier about this, letting out a little grumble, “Mmm, alright.”

⤷ masterlist

[sky-kiss]

A/N: Apparently, there's been a lot of soft!Raphael lately. Allow me to rectify that. Ascended Fiend!Raphael and Haarlep hunt you in the dark. Hiding sin under the gif.

Fiend!R x GN!Reader, H x GN!Reader: Full Dark, No Stars 18 +

The world is absolute blackness. 

Not grayscale, not outlines, just shadow, magically dense. You hold your hand in front of your face; the heat is there, your other senses struggling to compensate for the sudden lack of vision, but everything else is gone. You're left to swallow, arms held before you, fumbling in the dark. 

Something shifts on your right. Only one footstep, as if they want you to hear. Infernal heat registers at your back, hands carding over your hips. Then it's gone. You're left rounding on nothing, breathing hard. 

Time lost so much of its meaning in the dark. You could have been minutes or hours. You know that your feet are sore. There's a dull ache in your feet from padding across the flagstones, an ache in your right arm after Haarlep wrenched you too harshly to the side. And the burn everywhere else from Raphael's insistent touch. 

They're hunting you. 

You shiver, scanning the blackness as if it will help. Both devils are unnaturally quiet. The ascended fiend's prodigious size does not slow it down. It moves with liquid grace, sinuous, on all fours rather than its typical upright posture. The sight makes something clench in your belly, fear finding its mate in arousal. It's Raphael stripped down to his basest essence, feral, infernal, and hungering. 

"Tsk-tsk, little mouse," Haarlep calls. They're somewhere on your left, closer than you'd expect. Something passes in front of you, and you stumble. A hand fists in your hair, yanking to keep you upright. Pain blossoms across your scalp, muted when they tip your head back. You open your mouth to respond, and the fiend takes full advantage, tongue pushing into your mouth. They nip your chin, chuckling, and then push you away. "You're slow, far too slow for a mouse. I'm disappointed." 

You keep very silent, very still, trying to orient yourself. 

Haarleep behind you, tail curling around your thigh. The tip strokes between your legs, pressing, prodding. Their voice dips to little more than a growl. "But, ah, I suppose you have other problems? And sweet Haarlep is the least of them." They jerk you back against their chest, arms a vice across your torso. Haarlep's nose tweaks against your cheek, the caress gentle. It contrasts the rasp of their voice, the erection digging insistently against your ass. "I am not in the habit of being ignored, pet. Just this once…I shall permit it." He groans, rutting against you. "Alas, our time is short. The Master comes. And he is so…" licking your cheek, licking into your mouth again. The sweetness of their saliva overcomes your better senses. "...hungry."

You feel Raphael's heat, a portent of things to come. He could be anywhere in the dark, but he's near, crouched low. You imagine him slinking through the darkness, tail cutting slow arches through the air, claws digging at the stone. 

Haarlep hums, giving you a playful pat on the stomach. "Be good for him, yes? He's waited so patiently. And we both know…the fiend has so little patience."

Their weight is gone again. You take three steps forward; the heat steadily mounts. Raphael howls in the dark. Close, how the hells can he be so close? You haven't heard a damn thing. 

And then there's teeth at your shoulder. Hot breath on your neck. A long tongue teasing the column of your throat. You inhale a stuttering breath, careful to stay very still. The fiend growls, pleased with itself as it scents the air. His senses are much sharper. Raphael hears the thundering of blood in your veins, your heartbeat. Smells your arousal. 

You muster up whatever courage you have left to run. 

You don't make it far. Not even a step. Raphael shrieks, the sound higher than you would have expected, clearly delighted. A hand curls around your midsection, stopping you cold. The claws bite against your skin but don't cut. Even in this form, he knows not to break you. He'll only bend. You squirm as it drags you nearer, bracketing you as it lays you on the cold stone. Its tongue is back on your skin, dragging down your stomach to your sex. 

It borders on too hot, but the wet heat and the pressure are too good to ignore. Raphael laps at you, tip prodding at your hole, pressing, pressure, until it can finally push inside. You're left to pant, thrashing under the weight of its hand as it settles over your chest, caging you.

The hunt is over. Raphael intends to feast.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Aeternum

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: your life with Lloyd is a lot of work. Or rather, he is.

This is one of my birthday drabbles. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A birthday drabble for Carpe Noctem 

You stare at the small screen of the smart device. The smell of cinnamon fills the kitchen as you stand in wait of the baking desserts. You lean in to get a better view of the news segment. Your ears tweak at the reporter’s words. 

‘The sole survivor remains in the ICU with severe burns but healthcare personnel see a full recovery. As for those who passed, the survivor’s parents, they have been interred in the local cemetery and the service brought out hundred.’ 

They show images of the funeral; flowers, solemn faces, the front of a church.  

“Why are you watching that shit?” Lloyd, as always, knows when to barge in. 

“Alexa, stop playing,” you command the device and the screen returns to rest, showing the time and weather. “Just the news.” 

“I told you not to worry about that idiot.” He grunts as you face him. He tries to cross his arms then puts them straight, shaking out his left. He’s slick with sweat and his workout gear clings to his muscles. “I fucked up. Thought I killed him but the damn cockroach managed to drag himself out. What a pussy. Can’t even save his own parents.” 

“Lloyd. You--” 

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, mimi, your soft heart.” He leers at you and winks. “Softer body.” He sticks his tongue out and wince. He bends his elbow and rubs it. 

“What wrong with your arm?” You sigh. 

“Nothing. Old college injury. You know I was varsity, right? Coulda gone national but I made more money... doing something else.” 

“Right,” you sniff and go to the oven. You peer through the lit window at the spiral cookies. 

“What’s the point of me putting in all this work in the gym when you’re just fattening me up?” He scoffs. 

“You don’t have to eat the cookies.” You glance at the time on the small screen above the stove. 

“I have a nose and a stomach. I can’t resist.” He shuffles around the kitchen and surprises you as he comes up behind you. “Just like I can’t resist you.” 

“The cookies are for the shelter.” You stiffen as he wraps his arms around you and pulls your ass against him. “I told you several times not to touch.” 

“Mimi, you’re spending all my money.” 

You huff and look around at the spacious kitchen; stacked ovens, a hug marble island, a fridge with a glass door, a whole other fridge for just wine, and every single appliance you might need but have yet to use. You grab his wrists as he squeezes your hips. 

“I think you have more than enough. What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Have some wine, put on a thong, hop on my dick,” he purrs and rocks you with him, locking his hold on you. “You got your choice. The hot tub, the pool, sauna, hell, sit out in the sun and read one of your Austen joints. Want me to dress up like Darcy? Bit of role play?” 

“Stop,” you push on his arms and writhe. 

“What’s a matter, mimi? You weren’t so shy last night. Or yesterday afternoon. Or after lunch. Or in the morning.” 

You sneer and tear his hands away from your hips. You turn to him and poke his shoulder. He groans and rubs it. 

“Ow, you know that’s still healing.” 

“I told you to go to a real doctor,” you snip. 

“Mimi, they don’t touch me like you do.” He furls his fingers and his throat bobs. He runs his thumbs along his shorts and tugs. “Damn, just the thought—how about a cool down? I just chugged a protein shake, I gotta get it out.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He tilts his head. “Mommy, please.” 

“No, especially if you’re going to pull that.”  

You spin as the timer dings and you grab the oven mitts. You shut off the buzzer and take out the cookies. You put the pan on the counter to cool and hang the mitts again. 

“Mimi...” Lloyd drawls out as he closes in. 

You evade him. Keeping a step ahead as you scurry along the island. He pursues and you turn to face him as you round the corner. 

“I said no. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Why? Because that limp dick is in the hospital--” 

“Stop.” You whine and backpedal away from him as his advance continues. “Lloyd, I’m telling you to stop. I have to make a trip downtown to deliver the cookies--” 

“Really? You do? Because you don’t leave without me. Remember? Those are the rules.” He gets closer and closer.  

You peer around as you feel blindly and walk back on your heels. You pass through the doorway into the front room. You barely dodge the sofa and the little round table next to it. 

“Lloyd.” 

“Mimi.” 

“Leave me alone. I’m telling you.” 

“Keep telling me. It's making me hard.” He snickers. 

You veer through the next doorway and stumble as he lunges. He pulls back and laughs again. He’s taunting you. 

“Oh, I like this game, Mimi.” 

“I’m not playing,” you reach to grab the banister as you step towards the stairs. 

He takes a deep breath and stops. “Neither am I.” 

His smirk sends a chill through you. You freeze at the bottom step and gulp. You look up then back at him. In an instant, you’re barreling up, desperate to get to the top. As your feet slap on the stairs, his treads trail you up calmly. 

Shit. This is the last thing you need. No matter what or when, you always manage to provoke him. Every breath, every blink, every word only entices him. It’s tiring. Without a job, without your friends, it feels like your nothing more than toy. Any search for a different purpose just amuses him. 

You race down the hall. You have to make a quick decision. You burst into the bathroom and spin to swing the door shut. It bounces back as Lloyd shoves his sneaker between it and the frame. He shoves in after you with a taunting grin. 

You stagger back and search for any form of defence. You know it’s pointless. There’s no escape, no fight to be had, but you just want him to let you think for two minutes without mentioning his dick. You grab the bottle of hair spray and aim it at him. You push down and he coughs, waving his hand through the cloud of stickiness. 

He swats the aerosol from your hand and grabs your other arm. You whimper as he wrenches you toward him. He turns and pens you in against the floating counter. He tuts down at you as you push on his stomach. 

“Oh, mimi,” his eyes flick above you. “That’s a great fucking idea.” He grips your shoulder and twists you around to face the counter. “I’d love to watch.” 

He keeps you trapped as you slap a hand on the marble and try to shove him away with the other. He stretches the elastic of his shorts and they fall to his feet. You wriggle as he wraps his arm around you and leans you against the counter. 

His other hand snakes under your skirt. One of the many pieces stocked in your closet. None of them fit right. They all flutter a bit too high on your thigh. 

“Lloyd,” you beg. “Later. Not—now.” 

“Too fucking late. My dick hurts.” 

“Stop!” You throw and elbow back into his ribs. He grunts and nuzzles your hair. 

“Don’t mess around.” He warns. 

He kicks your feet apart and peels your panties down your thighs. The strip of lace strains around your legs. He bends you further as he feels around. He brings his tip down to your cunt and prods you, tapping, and rubbing. 

“Mm, I feel you shaking for me, Mommy.” 

“Please--” you gasp. 

“You don’t gotta beg,” he boats. 

“Urgh, get—off!” You bend your arm awkwardly and once more poke at his shoulder. He exclaims but persists.  

He lines up as he bares his teeth, hooking his jaw over your shoulder. The anger pulses in his forehead as he glares at your reflection. He snaps his hips and impales you with a growl. You cry out and brace the counter as your legs buckle. 

“Ow!” You plead with him in the mirror. Eyes misty, eyes pouting. 

His lips curve deeper as he thrusts, jerking your hip bones into the marble. His hand crawls up to your chest and he squeezes your chest with a snarl. He tilts his head and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He ruts as his eyes blaze back at you from the glass. 

His hand snakes down your stomach and delves beneath your skirt. You hide beneath your eyelids as he finds your clit. He flicks over your hood and you spasm. You mewl as he does it again and again. Worse than his strength is his talent at toying with you. Even as you resist, he finds your weak spot and needles away at it. 

“Mmm,” he purrs as he unlatches his teeth and kisses up your neck. 

His mustache tickles as he pounds against your ass, fingers sliding around your slickness, breath fogging around your chest. Your thighs quiver and your feet arch. You bend forward a little more and he hits just the right spot. 

You cum in a ripple of pathetic moans. You’re breathless and weak. You slump onto your elbow and he growls as you open to him completely.  

He frames your hips and pumps into you until his motion turns erratic. He groans and grunts, digging his nails through the fabric as he pulls out. He cums down your thigh as you hang off the counter.

He lets out a gurgle and snaps his knuckles against your ass. He moves rigidly as he turns and leans his bare ass on the marble beside you. He rubs your back as you gulp and catch your breath.

You stand up but he stops you from grabbing a tissue to wipe up. He’s shameless as his shorts still cling around one ankle. 

“Hey, baby cakes, get my shorts for me? Think I pulled something.” 

You scowl at him as he emphatically clutches his side. You sniff and wave him off. You grab a washcloth and wet it under the faucet. You wipe yourself off and toss the balled fabric into the sink. 

“Pull your own shorts up,” you sneer. 

“I mean it, Mimi, my back’s all sorts of locked up. You got me all bound up.” He gives a pathetic whimper. “Please, take care of me like you always do.” 

You shake your head and squat down to grab the shimmering puddle of shorts. This is ridiculous. He lifts his feet to hook it through and as you tug them up his legs, an odd weight hangs in the flimsy fabric. His dick twitches just as you cover it up and let the elastic snap him meanly. 

“You feel that, Mimi,” he catches your hand and pulls it back to him. You try to shake him off but can’t. “Am I happy to see you or is that a ring in my pocket?” He brushes your palm over his dick and to his pocket. The shape you felt is sharper than you expect. You look up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to get on one knee.” 

He guides your hand to the top of his pocket and lets go. Your heart thumps as you reach inside and pull out the heart-shaped box. The lid opens like wings from the middle. You reveal the sapphire trimmed diamond inside. Each stone bigger than the next. 

You gape at the sparkling cluster. Lloyd chuckles and strokes your cheek. He cups your chin and raises it. As you look at him, he smirks again. 

“You take care of me, I take care of you,” he traces his thumb along your lip. “Speaking of, I’m fucking serious about my back. Can I get some help?” 

[tinydefector]

Reader with a disability- like a lost limb or two. And their cypertronian friendo’s make them new limbs?

I’d personally like to see it with the Decepticon‘s. But I’ll take anyone.

Upgrades

Tarantulas x reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.3k

Used the wheel spinner to pick a character for this one, and you got tarantulas, and he was actually a lot of fun to write. Based him quite a bit of the earthspark Tarantulas.

___________

They sit off to the side as Tarantulas works. Not being able to do much else other than wait for him to finish his work. The scarring on their leg aches and it makes them twitchy for sitting so long with nothing to do. "How much longer?" They ask softly trying not to scratch the area

He glances over at the human, a soft click comes from his mandibles. "Patience, my friend. These things cannot be rushed." He turns back to his workbench, carefully assembling components of the new prosthetic he was working on. "I assure you, the end result will be well worth the wait." 

 

They continued to sit there for a moment but eventually decided they were sick of just sitting. using the equipment beside themself they pull themself to stand, keeping a hand on it while hopping closer trying not to fall over. Tarantulas' optics briefly flicker towards them as they uncomfortably hop closer, clearly struggling without the support of their prosthetic. He pauses in his work, claws delicately holding a small metallic component mid-assembly. 

"I would not recommend straining yourself in such a manner," he says evenly. "The device will be completed as efficiently as I am able. injuring yourself will only hinder the process. One of his claws came out to steady them. He clicks the part into place with meticulous care, then glances back at the human.

"I'm bored sitting here Tarantulas" they admit while moving closer using his arm as a guide closer. "Can you put something on for me to watch or something, I can't handle just sitting here in silence, please I'd even suffer listening to the music you like so much" they hand brushes against his plating as they stand against his frame, pressing their head against the spider furr of his plating.

Tarantulas lets out an exasperated hiss as the human presses against him, interrupting his concentration. Still, he suppresses the urge to shove them away, he rumbles softly reminding himself they were a touchy one, it was only them and not someone else touching him. 

"Very well," he grumbles, reaching a clawed hand to tap at a nearby console. "I shall provide some 'entertainment' to distract that feeble organic processor of yours." The screens in his lab flicker to life, he types away for a moment with his other talons and brings up some mind numbing videos. He bristles again when their hand runs over the furr before he settles again. "Try not to leak your oils and fluids on my exoskeleton," he snarks slightly but settles into the light touch. He lifts them up, settling them between his shoulder plate and helm, talons subtly guiding them until they had sat comfortably. " now you're just being a dick" they state with amusement while snuggling against him. 

He turns back to the delicate work with a few small clicks. Tarantulas narrows his optics at the human's crass words, but otherwise does not acknowledge their playful jab. His thoughts are focused solely on completing the task at hand. With meticulous precision, he settles back into work, a talon coming up to check on them occasionally to check if they had fallen asleep. They'd make a small noise but other than that they were content watching the videos. 

Tarantulas soldiers the final connections, tweaking the calibration. "It is done," Tarantulas announces, and they peek up to look at the finished prosthetic. "Your patience has paid off. Shall we test its capabilities?" He holds up the brand new leg for them to look at for a moment. With care he helps them off his shoulder, setting them down gently. Once they are seated, he works quickly; multiple talons move with skill to fit the prosthetic into place, ensuring the connections are seamless. 

"How does it feel?" he asks while making sure to attach it the right way, checking to make sure the pins didn't pinch on the attachment, as he watches their reaction he's already working on another design in his processor. "Walk with it. Carefully." He steps back, folding all his arms but one as he watches for any sign of instability.

He olds one out for them to use encase they needed it, but For now, he watches. As they stand up and put pressure on it, it feels different to the other prosthetic. The first few steps are wobbly with Tarantulas guiding them with a servo to make sure they don't trip. "Feels weird, lighter than the last one.Tarantulas watches closely as the human takes their first tentative steps with the new prosthetic. His optics brighten with fascination at seeing his engineering in action. “What did you change?". It wasn't as heavy as the last prosthetic he had made for them. 

"I utilised a lighter alloy in its construction to reduce overall mass, while integrating cybertronian servo-motors to enable more natural movement. They should also allow for greater precision and control compared to your previous prosthesis," Tarantulas explains, a hint of pride creeping into his voice despite himself.  

"In time, it should function almost similarly to your original organic limb, perhaps even surpassing it in strength and capabilities. I can continuously refine the design as needed." He gestures to his workbench, laden with tools and components. "For now, simply continue acclimating yourself to it." His optics gleam with anticipation. It was something almost simplistic but they needed it.

 They continue walking around on it testing the feeling of the new prosthetic, after they sit down and watch the way the hinges bend with each time they straighten and bend their leg. "Still don't know how you do it Tulas, you would be an awesome prosthetic manufacturer you know" they shoot him a delighted smile. Tarantulas lets out an amused huff at the human's praise. 

"An 'awesome prosthetic manufacturer'? Hardly a fitting aspiration for one such as myself." He turns back to tidy up his workstation, sorting tools and components with methodical efficiency. "I engineer these enhancements purely as scientific curiosities, and for the opportunities they provide in helping you."  Picking up a small welding tool, he regards it thoughtfully as he continues. "But I admit, it is gratifying to see my creations appreciated."  

“Got a soft spot for me Tula?” they tease at him. Tarantulas sets down the tool and moves closer to the human, gently flicking them with one of his talons.  "But thank you, I know it probably doesn't mean much to you due to being Cybernetic, but this means alot to me to be able to walk, and you're making it easier with the knee bending." It's a sincere thank you. They look over at the other prosthetic. "Do you know why this one broke?" 

Tarantulas picks up the damaged prosthetic leg, turning it over in his claws as he examines it closely. "Inferior craftsmanship," he hisses in disdain. "Not unexpected from those human manufacturers. They lack true vision." He traces a talon along a cracked seam in the prosthetic's casing. "Substandard materials and shoddy construction. I could improve upon this base design in recharge."

Setting the leg down, Tarantulas turns his optics to the human. "Do not trouble yourself with their inept handiwork any longer. You shall walk solely on my creations from now on." 

They laugh at his crase words shaking their head in amusement, it was nice to see him enjoying working on something that to him was so basic yet to them was a life altering thing. They smile back at him as they disconnect the prosthetic, placing it in their lap to look it over. "It's pretty, didn't take you as an artist type Tula" they hum in amusement while admiring the patterns etched onto the fake leg.

Tarantulas tilts his head quizzically at the human's comment about his artistic sensibilities. "Artistry? Hmpf. I merely adorn my creations to...satisfy your simple organic aesthetic preferences." He steps closer and runs a talon along the etched patterns in the prosthetic's casing. "But I admit, an elegant design does complement the engineering within."  

________

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