#y/n also is crazy

[emonaculate]

Neva Play

☀ AU: Modern!AU

☀ Genre: Modern!Street racing

☀ Rating: 16+ (This oneshot contains sexual content, read at your own risk

☀ Pairing: Street racer! Gojo x Street racer! Black! reader; motherly!Y/n x Yuji (PLATONIC)

☀ Warnings include: Profanity, Implied sexual content, slightly out of character gojo, Y/n is a mean bitch, illegal racing, Gojo is crazy, Y/n is crazy, yall I told yall i like toxic, evading the police (obey traffic laws yall), dom!Gojo, bratty!sub!y/n, slapping (receiving), WAS NOT PROOF READ

☀ Author's Note: Another little teaser before I start my offical Gojo series that is gonna take up my time. This one-shot was inspired by the fast and furious franchise and Neva Play by Meg the Stallion. I tried to do a good job of describing Y/n's y2k inspired outfits but I wanted to focus more on the racing instead. If this does well, I'll make a part ii strictly for smut. I really enjoy seeing how many people enjoy my content and I'm thinking of splitting my works so those who like the sfw content can enjoy one half, while my dirtier (degenerates like me) can enjoy the freakier parts as well.

The roar of engines pierced the night as neon lights flickered to life, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the slick pavement. Crowds gathered along the narrow streets of Tokyo, their excitement palpable, each heartbeat synced with the thrum of racing cars. A sleek, midnight-blue coupe shot past, its headlights cutting through the darkness like a comet, leaving a trail of shimmering reflections in its wake.

As the cars lined up at the starting line, their polished surfaces gleamed under the vibrant glow of overhead signs, creating a breathtaking tapestry of chrome and color. The scent of high-octane fuel mixed with the salty breeze from the bay, electrifying the air. Every eye was fixed on the asphalt, where the promise of speed and danger danced tantalizingly close.

The crowd erupted as the signal changed; engines roared to life, tires screeched, and the world blurred into a rush of lights and motion. It was more than a race—it was a symphony of power and precision, set against the backdrop of Tokyo’s breathtaking skyline, a neon dream that pulsed with life and adrenaline.

Y/n rolled down her window, the cool night air flooding in as she parked alongside the row of gleaming cars. Her gaze fell on Yuji Itadori, the newcomer she had taken under her wing. His excitement was palpable, a wide grin spreading across his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet. She couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of him; the kid had a spark that was hard to resist.

“Ready to show them what you’ve got, Yuji?” she called out, her voice laced with playful confidence. His eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously, a mix of nerves and exhilaration.

Yuji had been drawn to her after his older brother, Choso, introduced him to the world of street racing. Watching Y/n tear through the streets with a skill that left everyone else in awe had ignited a fire in him. From that moment, he was a kid on a mission, practically begging her to teach him the ins and outs of racing. Y/n, always a sucker for determination and charm, agreed to mentor him, ensuring it was a safe and fun experience.

Tonight’s race was meant to be light-hearted—just a chance for Yuji to feel the rush without the pressure. Y/n had mapped out the course, ensuring it was straightforward but filled with little challenges to push him just enough. She could see the other racers gathering, their cars idling, the vibrant lights reflecting off their polished surfaces.

“Remember, it’s all about feeling the car and finding your rhythm,” she advised, leaning slightly out of the window. “Trust your instincts, and have fun out there.”

With a final encouraging nod, Y/n settled back in her seat, watching as Yuji climbed into his own car, an eager look of determination replacing his earlier nervousness. As the signal to start flashed ahead, Y/n’s heart raced with anticipation. She knew this moment would be crucial for him. The thrill of the race was about to unfold, and she couldn’t wait to see Yuji embrace it all.

"I thought I recognized that green vomit mess of a car," Gojo Satoru's voice rang out, dripping with playful arrogance. Y/n’s light smile vanished as she turned to face him, her expression hardening. There he was—Tokyo's reigning king of the streets, striding toward her with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

His custom-built matte black Nissan GT-R gleamed under the neon lights, a striking contrast to her vibrant green ride. The way the neon blue accents wrapped around the curves of his car only amplified its aggressive elegance. It was like he had teleported to the finish line every time they raced, always just ahead, as if he was toying with her.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n snapped, hopping out of her car to face the towering figure of Gojo Satoru. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, frustration boiling in her chest. Yuji, sitting behind his wheel, looked between them, bewildered by the sudden tension.

This race was supposed to be for beginners like Yuji and older timers looking for a thrill, not a playground for Tokyo's street king. If Satoru was here, trouble wasn’t far behind, and Y/n had promised Choso that she’d keep Yuji safe. The thought of Gojo ruining everything again sent a surge of anger through her.

“Wow, haven’t seen you in what felt like forever, and here you are being mean as usual,” Gojo replied, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I heard there was a race today and I was looking forward to seeing the newcomers and what they’re capable of. I want to see who could possibly replace me. I’m getting old, you know, Y/n.”

“That's bullshit, you overgrown chive built bitch! You don’t plan on letting anyone replace you. You’re just here to irritate me,” Y/n declared, jabbing her manicured French tip nail into Gojo’s chest. She ignored the firmness beneath her finger, focusing instead on the fire burning in her chest.

With her plump lips pressed together in a determined glare, she shot him a harsh look. Gojo, however, merely met her gaze with that infuriatingly demeaning smirk of his. Before she could retort, he grabbed her wrist tightly, leaning in so his face was just inches from hers.

“S'not my fault you look so cute when you’re angry. You make it too easy,” he murmured, his deep, raspy voice sending a shiver down her spine. The closeness was electric, and for a moment, she lost her train of thought, acutely aware of how vulnerable this moment made her feel.

The closeness between them heightened Y/n’s awareness of her outfit. She wore a black and green under-boob crop top, featuring a striking cobra design that hugged her curves, paired with a low-waisted black mini skirt that hung dangerously off her hips showing of the straps of the red thong she wore. The Chloe Maxime platform sandals on her feet, though stylish and secure, did little to bridge the height gap between her and Gojo.

As she stood there, their proximity felt charged, and she couldn’t help but notice how her outfit accentuated every movement. The night air was thick with tension, and despite her irritation, a part of her was acutely aware of how he looked at her, that teasing glint in his sapphire eyes only adding to the heat of the moment.

“Focus, Y/n,” she reminded herself, shaking off the distracting thoughts. She was here to race and mentor Yuji, not get sidetracked by Gojo’s infuriating charm. But the way he leaned in, that playful smirk still lingering, made it all the more challenging. She needed to stay sharp tonight, for herself and for Yuji, and she wouldn’t let anything—especially not Gojo—get in the way of that.

“Y'know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were afraid of racing me, like you know you’d lose… again.” Gojo mused, a playful glint in his sapphire eyes as he watched Y/n’s expression shift. She could feel her eye twitch in irritation, the bait of his taunt hard to ignore.

Despite the annoyance simmering within her, Y/n kept surprisingly calm as she snatched her hand away from his grasp, the spot still tingling from his touch. She turned on her heel and stalked back to her car, determined to shake off the tension and refocus.

“I bet your student is as sorry as you…” Gojo called out loudly, his voice ringing through the crowd, clearly intended for everyone to hear.

Y/n glanced back just in time to see Yuji’s face furrow in confusion, a hint of hurt crossing his features. Her heart sank at the sight. She hadn’t wanted Gojo’s taunts to spill over and affect Yuji. He was here to have fun, to find his own confidence, not to be caught in their rivalry.

“Don’t listen to him, Yuji!” Y/n shouted, her voice firm, wanting to shield him from Gojo’s barbs. “You’ve got this!”

But as she settled into her car, a rush of determination surged within her. She wouldn’t let Gojo’s taunts get to her. Not now. Tonight was about proving herself—not just to him, but to everyone watching. She revved the engine, the powerful sound cutting through the tension in the air, ready to turn that energy into something fierce.

Y/n's car had been her constant companion since day one, modified after nearly every race, evolving alongside her from a punk teen eager to prove herself to a mature racer brimming with wisdom. The 1994 neon green Mazda RX-7 roared to life, its engine practically purring as Y/n teased the gas pedal, her eyes focused on her friend, Yuki Tsukumo, striding confidently to the starting line.

The vibrant glow of the streetlights bounced off the car’s slick surface, making it look even more striking. This was her pride and joy, a reflection of her journey and determination. Every dent, every scratch told a story—a battle fought, a lesson learned.

As Yuki approached, she raised a hand to rally the racers, her voice cutting through the excitement of the crowd. Y/n felt a rush of adrenaline as she prepared for the race ahead. She knew tonight was about more than just winning; it was about showing everyone—especially the newcomers—that she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Listen up, losers! You guys know the rules, no bumping. No dirty tricks. And try not to get caught by the police. I want a clean race, that means you Jogo and Mahito. I know how you guys like to get down, that shit isn't gonna cut it tonight we got kids out here racing too."

Mahito and Jogo were here too? Shit. Y/n felt a wave of concern wash over her. Maybe Yuji wasn’t ready for this kind of competition. But no, she quickly reminded herself; the boy had been working his ass off for months. She just had to trust him. After all, she was racing too, and she would make sure nothing happened to him.

The atmosphere was charged, excitement crackling in the air like electricity. She took a deep breath, shaking off any lingering doubts. This was her moment, and she was ready to defend not just her own reputation but also Yuji’s.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she felt the cool metal of her eyebrow piercing catch the light from her dashboard, reflecting the vibrant hues of neon that surrounded her. With her heart pounding, she placed her hand firmly on the stick shift, the familiar sensation grounding her as she listened carefully to Yuki.

“Let’s do this,” she murmured to herself, the engine humming beneath her as the countdown began.

Ready… set… GO!” Yuki shouted, her voice slicing through the tension in the air.

Y/n slammed her foot down on the gas, the RX-7 lunging forward with explosive power. The engine roared even louder than before, vibrating with adrenaline as the neon green car shot ahead, slicing through the night like a comet. The familiar rush filled her veins, the thrill of speed and competition igniting her spirit.

As she navigated the first turn, she kept her focus sharp, eyes scanning the road ahead. The streetlights blurred into streaks of color, but she felt every curve, every shift in momentum. Behind her, she knew Mahito and Jogo were hot on her tail, and she could almost hear their taunts echoing in her mind.

But tonight, she was racing for more than just herself. She was racing for Yuji, for every kid out there dreaming of making their mark. She’d make sure they all had a fair shot, no matter what tricks the pair tried to pull.

“Come on, Yuji!” she whispered under her breath, willing him to keep up as she pushed her limits. The streets of Tokyo were alive, and so was she—this was where she belonged.

Y/n watched as the yellow Camaro, piloted by Yuji, whipped past her, drifting effortlessly around the corner in a way that felt almost like slow motion. Her heart swelled with pride, and a wide smile broke across her face.

“Go, Yuji!” she cheered loudly, her voice cutting through the roar of engines and the thrill of the race. She followed closely behind, eager to support him but also keen to keep the competition alive. Sure, she intended to let him win, but there was no way in hell she’d make it that easy.

As she pushed the RX-7 to match his speed, Y/n felt the rush of adrenaline spike. She maneuvered with precision, feeling the connection between her and the car, ready to challenge him just enough to keep him on his toes. The neon lights blurred past, and the cheers from the crowd fueled her determination.

“Show me what you’ve got!” she called out, leaning into the turn as they raced side by side. This was more than just a race; it was a chance for Yuji to prove himself, and she was excited to be a part of his journey.

Y/n's maternal pride was cut short as she saw Mahito’s gray Hellcat bear down on Yuji’s Camaro, the aggressive growl of the engine filling the air. No way, Mahito was going to play dirty right from the start. Her heart raced as she watched the scene unfold, a mix of anger and concern bubbling inside her.

“Yuji, watch out!” she shouted, but the words barely escaped her lips before the moment escalated. Mahito swerved dangerously close, clearly intending to intimidate. Was the kid already trying to blow his pistons using the nitrous this early?

Yuji slammed on his brakes, skidding out of the way just in time as Mahito zoomed past with a wicked smirk, reveling in his reckless maneuver. Y/n’s instincts kicked in, and she quickly calculated her next move.

“Not on my watch!” she growled, determination flooding her veins. She accelerated, the RX-7 roaring as she aimed to get between Yuji and Mahito. This race was about more than just speed; it was about protecting the ones she cared for. She wouldn’t let Mahito ruin this moment for Yuji. With a fierce focus, she prepared to confront the reckless driver head-on.

Y/n pressed harder on the gas, feeling the power of her RX-7 surge as she maneuvered to cut Mahito off. Playing dirty was frowned upon in racing, but Mahito was a different breed; he thrived on chaos, and she knew the only way to get her message across was to confront him directly.

With a swift turn of the wheel, she flipped her car to face the oncoming Mahito, the neon green paint gleaming defiantly in the night. Her heart raced as she sped toward him, a fierce determination in her eyes. Mahito, clearly too excited by the challenge, seemed eager to engage in this dangerous game of chicken.

“Not this time!” she shouted, adrenaline coursing through her veins as the distance between them shrank. The crowd's cheers faded into a low roar, her focus sharpening on Mahito's hellcat. She wouldn’t let him intimidate Yuji or ruin this race.

As they hurtled toward each other, Y/n’s instincts kicked in. She could see Mahito’s smirk, and in that moment, she was ready to show him that she wasn’t just another racer to be toyed with. This was her territory, and she’d fight tooth and nail to protect it. The clash was inevitable, but she was determined to come out on top.

Just when it looked like the tips of their cars were about to connect in a metal kiss, Y/n shifted her gear into a mean reverse and swerved out of the way. Mahito’s confidence turned to panic as he scrambled to catch his bearings, but it was too late. With a sickening crunch, the reckless scarred man crashed into Jogo, who had been lurking to set a trap of his own.

Y/n couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she watched the chaos unfold. The two men stepped out of their cars, anger flashing in their eyes as they began to argue over the damage. Mahito waved his arms animatedly, clearly furious at the unexpected turn of events, while Jogo inspected his vehicle with an incredulous look.

“Nice teamwork, virgins!” Y/n called out, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. She could hardly contain her amusement as she watched them bicker like children caught in a scuffle. This was the chaos she had been hoping to avoid, but it was also a reminder that she could stand up to them when it mattered most.

Feeling a surge of pride for Yuji, who was still safely behind her, she took a moment to revel in the situation. She had sent a message, and as Mahito and Jogo continued to argue, she knew she’d successfully protected Yuji while keeping the race alive.

As if on cue, more racers zipped by, Yuji leading the pack with enthusiasm. Y/n couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride, but that mood quickly soured as she spotted the familiar blur of blue and black zooming past.

“Damn it,” she cursed under her breath. Everyone knew tonight was supposed to be Yuji’s moment, but would Satoru respect that?

With a surge of determination, Y/n slammed down on the gas, navigating through shortcuts with precision to catch up to Satoru. As she pulled up alongside him, she rolled her window down, adrenaline pumping.

“How may I help you, pretty?” Gojo called out, that infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face as his white hair whipped wildly in the wind.

“This race is for Yuji to win—cut it out!” Y/n shot back, her voice firm, but she could feel her heart racing from the close proximity.

“Yeah, I thought about it,” he replied with a teasing lilt, amusement dancing in his sapphire eyes. “But I figured, nah. Why give the kid an easy win when he could really earn it, y’know?”

Her frustration bubbled over, but Y/n wasn’t about to back down. “You’re impossible!” she yelled, her determination igniting even further. She needed to protect Yuji’s chance to shine, and if that meant going head-to-head with Gojo, so be it. With a quick glance back at her friend, she steeled herself for the fight ahead. This race was far from over, and she wasn’t about to let Satoru take away Yuji’s moment.

That was the only reason Y/n decided to race the king of the streets—no other reason.

Small beads of sweat formed on Y/n’s forehead as she opted to keep pace alongside Satoru, both of them locked in a fierce duel on the asphalt. They zipped past the competition, including Yuji, who seemed to be gaining ground as well. It felt like they were evenly matched, their cars roaring in harmony as they pushed each other to the limits.

As Y/n zoomed ahead, she couldn’t help but wonder why Satoru hadn’t unleashed his nitrous to pull ahead. It dawned on her with a jolt: Satoru wanted her to slow down and fall behind him—to admit defeat.

“No way,” she muttered to herself, gripping the wheel tighter. With a determined surge, she pushed her RX-7 harder, the engine responding with a satisfying growl. The beaming lights of the oncoming cars reflected off her windshield, but she stayed focused, refusing to let his mind games shake her resolve.

“You think I’ll just give up?” she shouted into the wind, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Satoru might be the king of the streets, but tonight, she was here to prove herself—and she wouldn’t back down without a fight.

“What's your next move, pretty?” Gojo called out, a teasing edge in his voice as he tried to shake her resolve.

Y/n remained silent, focusing instead on the honking of an oncoming truck, warning her to move. Gritting her teeth, she locked in harder than ever before, swerving between the incoming cars like a knife cutting through butter. The roar of the engines and the chaos around her only fueled her determination, but it felt as if she could hear Gojo’s mocking laughter echoing in her mind.

Navigating carefully, she calculated her next move. Just when the moment felt right, she jerked the wheel hard, launching her RX-7 over the divider and landing perfectly in front of Satoru. The thrill of the maneuver sent a rush of adrenaline through her, and she shot off ahead of him, her heart racing with triumph.

“Get fucked, furby!” she shouted back, a grin spreading across her face as she put distance between them. She wasn’t just racing against him; she was racing for herself and for Yuji.

Gojo watched the blur of neon green and black slip beyond his vision, a wild grin spreading across his face. The spark for racing he had been chasing ignited all at once. This was what he craved—the thrill, the challenge, and the undeniable excitement that Y/n brought to the track.

She was a wild card, unpredictable, and it drove him crazy in the best way. Most racers would have slowed down after that maneuver, conceding their position, but not Y/n. She pushed forward with fierce determination, refusing to back down.

That only made him want her more. He wasn’t just racing against her; he was racing for her attention. He would not let her slip away this time. The night was still young, and he was more than ready to turn up the heat, both on the track and off. With a burst of speed, he took off after her, the challenge firmly set in his mind. Tonight was about to get a lot more interesting.

Y/n’s victory triumph was cut short as the unmistakable wail of police sirens pierced the air. Glancing at her rear-view mirror, she spotted those flashing lights, and her heart sank. Quickly, she pressed a button to cover her license plate, her instincts kicking in. Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and dialed Yuji’s number.

“Y/n, this is so much fun—”

“Yuji, baby, that’s nice, but I need you to go to the nest now,” she cut him off, her tone firm.

Silence followed. Yuji understood the urgency behind her words; if she was using their code-word, it meant trouble was brewing. He went quiet, sensing the tension in her voice, and she could almost picture him nodding, ready to follow her instructions.

“Get there fast. I’ll be right behind you, okay?” she added, trying to reassure him as she focused on the road ahead, her heart racing not just from the thrill of the race, but from the looming danger of being caught. The night was turning chaotic, and she needed to keep her mentee safe.

"Be safe, okay." He replied, before ending the call himself.

Y/n’s heart tugged in a maternal way as pride swelled within her. Yuji had done so well in his first race; she was certain he would have won even without her help. The thought of him thriving on the track made her chest swell with affection. He was like a little brother to her, and the idea of nurturing that bond was almost enough to make her contemplate settling down and having her own kids someday. But the reality hit her—she wasn’t ready for that yet.

Who would she even settle down with? Certainly not Choso. Mixing business with pleasure was a recipe for disaster in her mind. The thought of being with the stoic man, then having a falling out, sent a shiver down her spine. What if he decided to sabotage her? Like cutting the breaks to her car? She couldn’t bear to think of it—she had already experienced that betrayal once, and it was a lesson she never wanted to repeat.

Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she focused back on the road, determined to keep Yuji safe and secure. He was her priority, and for now, that was enough. The future could wait.

Y/n’s heart raced as she gripped the wheel, adrenaline coursing through her veins. The flashing lights of the police cars reflected in her mirrors, turning the dark street into a surreal light show. She took a deep breath, focusing on the road ahead, her mind sharp and clear despite the chaos.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she gauged the distance between herself and the pursuing officers. They were close, but she had an advantage: her car was lighter, more agile. Y/n pressed down on the gas, the engine roaring in response as she navigated through the winding streets of Tokyo. The neon lights blurred past her, a colorful backdrop to her escape.

She spotted a narrow alleyway up ahead, just wide enough for her RX-7. It was a risk, but it was the perfect opportunity to lose the cops. With a determined flick of the steering wheel, she veered into the alley, her tires squealing against the pavement. The sound echoed off the walls, but she didn’t look back.

As she zipped through the alley, she dodged trash cans and obstacles with precision, her instincts guiding her. The sirens faded slightly behind her, the officers unable to follow through the tight turns. Y/n's heart pounded with a mix of fear and exhilaration; this was what she lived for.

Emerging from the alley, she found herself on a quieter street. The lights were dimmer here, but she could see a glimmer of hope ahead.

Y/n felt a surge of relief as the sirens faded into the distance. The adrenaline rush of narrowly escaping the police made her heart race, but she knew she couldn’t let her guard down just yet. The neon lights of Tokyo still flashed by as she navigated the quieter streets, her mind racing with thoughts of Yuji’s safety.

Just as she began to relax, a familiar blur of black and blue shot into her peripheral vision. Y/n’s heart sank as she recognized Gojo’s custom GT-R pulling alongside her. He had been tailing her this whole time?

“Fancy seeing you again, pretty,” he called out, his voice teasing and smooth, cutting through the hum of her engine.

“Don’t you have a race to win?” she shot back, trying to keep her tone serious despite the flutter in her stomach.

“Winning is overrated,” he replied, smirking as he adjusted his grip on the wheel, leaning casually against the door. “Besides, I heard you needed a little help. Looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle, huh?”

Y/n shot him a glare, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t need your help, Satoru. I can handle myself just fine.”

“Oh, I know you can,” he replied, his sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief. “But I thought you might want some company while you’re escaping the fuzz. It can get a little lonely out here.”

Y/n’s heart raced not just from the adrenaline of the chase, but also from the confrontation with Gojo. His presence was both infuriating and oddly exhilarating.

“I’d rather gargle on my own blood than need you for company,” she spat, irritation bubbling to the surface as she remembered how his taunts had always pushed her buttons.

“Just as cruel as ever, Black Mamba,” Gojo replied, shaking his head in amusement as he adjusted his shades, his playful demeanor unwavering.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t such a distraction,” she shot back, feeling the tension in the air thickening. Despite her annoyance, a part of her relished their banter.

“Distraction? I prefer to think of it as motivation,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “Besides, it’s not my fault you’re so easy to rile up.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “You think you can keep up with me, huh?”

“Oh, I know I can,” he replied, his tone dripping with confidence. “Just try not to crash into anything while you’re at it.”

Before she could respond, the sound of sirens grew closer, pulling her back into the reality of the situation. “Focus, Satoru! We’ve got company!”

“Right,” he said, suddenly serious, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the road ahead. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

With a determined flick of the wrist, he pressed down on the gas, his GT-R surging ahead. Y/n quickly followed suit, her RX-7 roaring to life as they raced side by side, weaving through the streets. The thrill of the chase ignited something within her—a blend of rivalry and camaraderie that made her pulse quicken.

As they barreled down the street, Gojo occasionally glanced over, his playful smile never fading. “You know, for someone who claims they don’t need my help, you sure seem to enjoy the chase.”

“Just stay out of my way, Satoru,” Y/n replied, though the lightness in her voice betrayed her. “And let me handle my own escape.”

“Whatever you say, pretty,” he teased, his laughter mixing with the roar of their engines as they pushed forward, determined to outrun the night and whatever came next.

As Y/n and Gojo raced through the streets of Tokyo, the thrill of the chase enveloped them like a high-octane rush. The sirens blared in the distance, a constant reminder that they were on borrowed time. Y/n’s RX-7 glided through the tight corners with precision, the engine growling in protest as she pushed it to the limit.

“Left!” Gojo shouted, pointing as they approached a sharp turn. Without hesitation, Y/n yanked the wheel, the car drifting smoothly around the corner as she expertly navigated the winding road. The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, casting vibrant reflections against the glossy paint of her car.

“Nice move!” Gojo called out, his voice laced with admiration as he followed closely behind, his GT-R nearly kissing the rear bumper of her car. “But can you handle this?”

He hit the nitrous, the burst of speed sending him shooting past her for a brief moment. Y/n smirked, her competitive spirit igniting. “Oh, is that all you’ve got?”

With a fierce determination, she hit her own nitrous, the RX-7 launching forward with an exhilarating jolt. The two cars raced neck and neck, the wind whipping through their hair as they both laughed, adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Suddenly, a police cruiser appeared at the end of the block, lights flashing, blocking their escape route. Y/n’s heart dropped, but she quickly regained her composure. “We need to split up!”

“Agreed,” Gojo said, his expression turning serious again. “Follow my lead.”

He swerved sharply to the right, leading them into a narrow alleyway. Y/n followed, her instincts kicking in as she expertly maneuvered through the tight space. The sounds of the city faded into the background, replaced by the echo of their engines reverberating off the walls.

As they emerged from the alley, they found themselves on a quieter street, the police sirens fading behind them, once more. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “That was too close.”

“Just another day in Tokyo,” Gojo said with a wink, the tension of the chase giving way to the thrill of victory. “You handled that like a pro, Y/n.”

"That's because I am, fuckwad. I need to get back to Yuji anyways, make sure he's safe." She huffed, stepping out of the car to peek outside of the alley to ensure that the coast was in fact clear.

Gojo stepped outside of the car as well walking towards the unsuspecting woman; grabbing her and moving her quickly against the brick wall of the small alley way.

"I'm not gonna let you keep talking to me like that, Mamba. You know better." His tone was serious as his glasses slide down revealing the cold demeaning look in his blue eyes.

Y/n looked into his eyes almost challenging Gojo to make a move, as if she thought he did have the balls to do whatever he was threatening her with. The defiance aura dripped off the smaller woman in waves; she had been racing for years and not one man who tried to "tame" or "break" her could. And she certainly worried about the loud mouth who seemed to be over compensating for something.

"Get off of me, Satoru. If you know what's good for you." Y/n warned, lowly.

Satoru smirked as his hand trailed from her shoulder up to her hair to grab a fistful of her onyx locks tightly, a beautiful contrast against his pale hands. He gave a warning tug to her hair watching her eyes narrow even harder at him.

"Or what?" He challenged back.

Y/n opened her mouth to speak but fell silent at the sound of her phone ringing, no doubt Yuji. It was like the sound of her phone broke the pair out of whatever moment was happenening; Gojo let go of her and stepped back with the usual calm and cool aura around him once more as he walked back to his car before calling back to the woman.

"Hosting a party, you should pull up. You know where." He mused as he hopped into his car speeding off before giving her a chance to respond.

Y/n watched as Gojo sped off, the taillights of his GT-R disappearing into the night. Her heart raced—not just from the thrill of the chase, but from the tension that had crackled between them moments before. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she fished her phone out of her pocket.

“Y/n!” Yuji’s voice came through, laced with excitement and a hint of worry. “Where are you? I saw the police lights!”

“I’m fine, Yuji. Just had a little detour,” she replied, her heart softening at the thought of the young racer waiting for her. “Are you safe? Did you make it back to the nest?”

“Yeah, I’m here! But I’m worried about you. What about Satoru? Is he with you?”

“Yeah, he is,” she said, glancing back down the street where Gojo had vanished. “But you don’t need to worry about him. Just stay put and I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay! I’ll be waiting!” Yuji hung up, and Y/n took a deep breath, refocusing her thoughts.

She slid back into her car, revving the engine. Heading back to her shop to meet Yuji. Y/n parked her RX-7 and hopped out, a smile creeping onto her face as she approached Yuji and Choso. The sight of the two brought a warmth to her chest. Yuji was animated, his hands flying as he recounted the race, while Choso listened patiently, a slight grin on his lips.

“Look who’s back!” Choso called out, his deep voice cutting through Yuji’s chatter. “Our fearless leader returns.”

“Hey, Cho! You’re not letting him get away with too much, are you?” Y/n teased, walking up to them.

Yuji turned, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. “Y/n! You missed it! I almost beat Megumi!”

Another newcomer who was being trained by his father, a known legend in the game. Toji didn't really race anymore opting to make up the time he missed raising his son and being there when the teen needed him most.

“Almost?” she said, feigning disappointment. “I expected you to leave him in the dust!”

“Next time, for sure!” Yuji beamed, his confidence shining through.

Choso chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s been talking about nothing but racing since he got here. I think you’ve got him hooked.”

“Good! He’s got the talent for it,” Y/n replied, pride swelling in her chest. “Just needs to keep working hard.”

“Speaking of hard work, what happened out there?” Choso asked, his expression turning serious. “I saw the police lights.”

“Just a little excitement,” Y/n shrugged, trying to downplay it. “But I handled it.”

“Of course you did,” Choso said, his tone sarcastic but reassuring. “You always do.”

Yuji leaned in, curiosity bubbling over. “Did Gojo help you? I saw him racing earlier.”

Y/n hesitated, the memory of their encounter fresh in her mind. “Let’s just say we had a… moment. But it’s fine. I took care of myself.”

“Sounds like there’s more to that story,” Choso noted, raising an eyebrow, showing off a piercing that mirrored the one that Y/n had in her own eyebrow.

“Not tonight,” Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “I've got somewhere to be tonight, so lets wrap up early. ”

Yuji pouted slightly, seeming upset that his night of thrill was over already. Y/n hated disappointing the teen but he had school and she was not in the mood to hear Choso chump her out because the boy missed first period again because he over slept.

"Y/n's right. It's a school night, kid. Let's go." Choso nodded in approve as he ushered Yuji to the simple looking crimson mustang.

Yuji huffed, crossing his arms but eventually relented. “Fine, but next time we’re racing until dawn!”

“Deal,” Y/n said with a wink, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve got to keep your energy up for those early mornings, though.”

As Yuji climbed into the Mustang, Choso turned to Y/n, his expression more serious. “You sure you’re okay? About everything tonight?”

Y/n nodded, forcing a smile. “I can handle it. Just need some space to think.”

Choso studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright, but if you need anything—”

“I know, I know,” she interrupted, holding up her hand playfully. “Call the stoic handyman for backup.”

Choso chuckled softly. “You’re lucky I can take a joke.”

“Lucky indeed,” she replied, her tone lightening. As the Mustang’s engine roared to life, Yuji gave her a thumbs up, and she returned it with a grin.

“Get some rest, both of you!” Y/n called as they pulled away. Watching them go, she felt a mix of pride and protectiveness swell within her. Yuji was destined for greatness, and she would do everything in her power to ensure he stayed on the right path.

As the taillights disappeared into the night, Y/n turned back to her RX-7, the adrenaline from earlier still buzzing in her veins. She knew she had to clear her head and refocus. Tonight’s chaos with Gojo lingered in her thoughts, a mix of annoyance and excitement swirling together.

Y/n stepped out of her car, the thumping bass of the music resonating through her bones. She took a moment to soak in the vibrant atmosphere, the bright strobe lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the gathering. Laughter and cheers echoed from the balcony above, where a crowd was enjoying the party’s electric energy.

As she adjusted her sheer crop top, the fabric fluttered slightly in the cool night air, emphasizing her butterfly tattoos' delicate design as it peeked from beneath the sleeve. The baggy cargo pants hung low on her hips, giving her a relaxed but stylish edge. With the way the pants hung low on her hips it gave a great teasing show of the tattoo that was on her lower back. With every step towards the entrance, she felt the eyes of the partygoers on her, a mix of recognition and curiosity.

“Y/n! You made it!” A voice called out, cutting through the crowd. It was Shoko, one of the other racers, waving her over with a drink in hand.

Y/n smiled and made her way through the throng of bodies, weaving past clusters of people chatting and dancing. The vibrant energy of the party wrapped around her, making her momentarily forget the chaos of the earlier night.

As she approached Shoko, she noticed Gojo mingling nearby, his signature white hair catching the light as he laughed at something a friend said. He looked effortlessly charming, and despite her annoyance earlier, Y/n felt a familiar flutter in her stomach.

“Thought you’d bail on us after that wild night,” Shoko teased, handing Y/n a drink.

“Not a chance,” Y/n replied, taking a sip. “Besides, I wanted to see how the ‘king of the streets’ celebrates his victories.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, glancing over at Gojo. “He’s definitely the life of the party. Just try not to get pulled into his orbit too much.”

Y/n laughed, glancing back at Gojo, who had caught her eye and flashed that signature smirk. “No promises.”

"God, you two need to just fuck and get it out of your system." Shoko groaned in annoyance.

Y/n let the music wash over her, liquid courage no doubt, the bass vibrating through her body as she moved. She rolled her hips and twirled, losing herself in the energy of the crowd. Laughter and cheers echoed around her, and for a moment, all the stress of the night faded away.

She danced with strangers, each one a fleeting connection in this electric atmosphere. The strobe lights flickered, casting playful shadows that enhanced her movements. With every beat, she felt freer, more alive.

As she spun, she caught sight of Gojo leaning against the bar, a confident smirk on his face. His eyes locked onto hers, and the connection sparked something deeper. Y/n couldn’t help but return his smile, her heart racing as she danced closer to him.

“Having fun?” Gojo shouted over the music, leaning in slightly.

"I was until I saw you!” Y/n shot back, her playful tone matching his. The heat of the moment electrified the air around them, and she couldn’t resist the pull.

With a flick of her wrist, she gestured for him to join her, her body moving in rhythm as she danced with wild abandon. The drink still in her hand, she offered it to the man. But, Satoru shook his head and pushed the cup back in her direction.

“Don’t drink,” Gojo confessed, watching her with a keen eye. The vibrant green glitter of her eyeshadow shimmered under the strobe lights, creating a stunning contrast against her deep skin. He couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly she owned the room.

"You serious? I feel like you're fucking with me." Y/n questioned, leaning again the bar closer to the man to hear him better.

"As a heart attack. Don't like how that shit makes me feel. But I can make you a mean Shirley Temple."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a scowl forming on her pretty face. “What, are you my babysitter now?”

“Just looking out for you,” he replied, his smirk growing wider. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your edge on the dance floor. Besides, you look too good tonight to be anything less than sharp.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but the compliment made her heart race. “Oh please, I can handle myself just fine.”

“Sure you can,” he said, stepping closer, the heat between them palpable. “But let’s keep you at your best, yeah? How about I get you that Shirley Temple; my offer still stands.”

Y/n paused, the offer hanging in the air. “You think you can handle that?”

“Please,” he said, his tone mockingly confident. “I’m the king of the streets. I can handle anything.”

Y/n leaned against the bar, watching Gojo as he expertly mixed the drink, his movements smooth and practiced. The way he concentrated, his brows slightly furrowed, made her heart flutter. She couldn’t help but admire how he could switch from cocky racer to serious bartender in a heartbeat.

As he poured the bright red mixture into a glass, he glanced over his shoulder, catching her gaze. “You’re still watching, huh? Can’t blame you—I am pretty captivating.”

“Or maybe I’m just waiting for that Shirley Temple,” she retorted, a smirk playing on her lips.

He laughed, shaking his head as he finished garnishing the drink with a cherry. “Here you go, one non-alcoholic Shirley Temple, just for you.”

“Looks almost too good to drink,” she noted, taking the glass from him and savoring the fruity aroma.

“Almost,” he echoed, leaning against the bar beside her, his casual posture radiating confidence. “But you should definitely drink it. You’ll need the juice to sober up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully but took a sip, letting the sweet flavor burst on her tongue. “Not bad, Gojo. Maybe you have more skills than just racing.”

He grinned, leaning in a bit closer, the heat between them intensifying. “Told you I’m full of surprises. Now, how about we hit the floor before I change my mind and start showing off my driving skills instead?”

“Lead the way, king,” she replied, raising her glass in a mock toast before following him back into the crowd, excitement bubbling inside her.

As they stepped onto the dance floor, the vibrant lights pulsed to the rhythm of the music, casting colorful shadows across the crowd. Y/n felt the bass thump in her chest, and the energy of the party enveloped her like a warm embrace.

Gojo moved in close, his presence radiating confidence as he found a spot where they could groove together. Y/n could feel the heat radiating off him, a stark contrast to the coolness of the drink she held. The music shifted to a catchy beat, and she lost herself in the rhythm, letting her body sway and roll to the sound.

Gojo matched her energy, moving with a fluid grace that made it hard for her to look away. He mirrored her movements, his smile playful and infectious. With each twist and turn, their bodies nearly brushed against each other, the proximity sending electric sparks through the air.

“See? Told you I could handle myself on the dance floor,” he called out over the music, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Maybe you can keep up after all,” Y/n shot back, a laugh escaping her lips as she spun away, letting the beat guide her. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her confidence.

With a quick glance back, she caught him watching her intently, a smirk playing on his lips. Emboldened, she danced closer, teasingly challenging him to match her moves. The two of them swayed and spun, the energy between them crackling as the music pumped through the crowd.

“Is this your secret weapon? Distracting everyone with your moves?” Gojo leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as they danced in sync.

“Maybe,” she replied, her heart racing. “But I think you’re the one with the secret moves.”

With a mischievous glint in his eye, he took her hand, leading her into a quick spin before pulling her back close. The world around them faded, the music becoming a backdrop to their playful banter and chemistry. Y/n felt alive, caught up in the moment, dancing like no one was watching.

As the song reached a crescendo, Gojo leaned down, his face inches from hers. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“And you’re not too shabby yourself, king,” she shot back, her heart racing not just from the dance but from the undeniable connection sparking between them.

Y/n wasn't sure how dancing with Gojo lead her into a room where her neck was being viciously devoured by the large white haired man who held his equally large palm over her mouth silencing any noises that could possibly escape the woman.

"You think I forgot about that little show you put on earlier? So big and bad, but now you're acting like a bitch in heat."

Gojo voiced against her neck, making to leave bruises that no one could deny. Y/n's head felt dizzy from the switch in personality from the man. One moment, he was kind and sobering her up and now he was rutting his knee against her clothed cunt and whispering degrading phrases into her ear as he branded her for all to see later.

"I'm talking to you, Mamba. Don't tell me your rude ass cant address me?" He mocked, stopping his assault to slap the woman gently.

Y/n felt a sting in her right cheek as she looked at the man, lost for words. She really didn't know what she started and just how badly she fucked with the wrong man. The crude manner in how she spoke to him but was kind to everyone else, the teasing during dancing on the floor while making eye contact, and of course the worst of all grinding on him just to get him hard before sauntering off as if she was going to leave him to take care of his own problem.

The woman had no idea she got under Satoru's skin just as much as he got under hers.

"I don't speak bitch," Y/n smirked, finally giving a response watching as the cool resolve Satoru usually had seem to crack. "Sorry."

Satoru looked at the woman; Y/n was pressed against the sink counter of one of his many bathrooms with no escape in sight for her and she was still talking. Maybe she got off to this? Maybe this is what she really wanted; a man to break that bitchy attitude in half and rearrange her guts.

"Nah," Gojo started as he wrapped his hand that was decorated with shiny silver rings. "I'm sorry for how sore you're about to be."

His words hung in the air as a promise as he connected his lips with hers in a fiery, hungry kiss. The pair eagered to explore one another.

.

.

.

.

Part II??

[sukunasweetheart]

You make it a habit to just kind of touch sukunas body absentmindedly while you think about everyday things in bed, or on the couch while hes next to you, tracing his tattoos or just smoothing your hand up and down his back-- its lead you spiralling down into a trap as he now becomes the sassiest man ever if you stop touching him.

Just thinking about how he would be sprawled out stomach first on the bed, face turned the other way, seemingly asleep- but the twist is that the moment your hand stops moving, he quickly turns back at you 0.001 seconds after with the 😐 face and asks "why'd you stop."

He'd never verbally request you to rub his back or stomach, or to play with his hair, because he has his sense of pride (stubborn old man.) but if hes lying on your lap or next to you in bed a little too close or when he gives you a certain look, its kind of an invitation for you to start doing your thing 😇 hes so adorable

Its surprising how obsessed he becomes with physical touch when sukuna is attached...

He gets more and more awfully spoiled because you enable him! Soon he will have you brushing your fingers through his hair for hours on end or have you massaging his hands and fingers for no good reason at all. Real princess treatment 👍 (he is always touch starved)

[kiruamon]

Lifting exercises with Sun?

I heard people headcanon that the DCA might be actually not as heavy as the other animatronics so... have Sun silently staring at you in awe while you pick him up to see if rumors are true.

[bilolli]

I did it

and yes, Eclipse has 6 pair of arms.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

proper thank you

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only!, stepbro!rafe, sending nudes, stepcest, kinda dumb/baby reader???

“carry me up to bed rafey?” you coo at your step brother, fluttering your lashes as your pout turns into a giggle when he sighs, unable to resist your pleading face.

“you're the most annoying little sis ever.” rafe says, calling you the nickname just to tease you as he leans down, scooping you into his arms. he carries you like you weigh nothing, so easily slotting into the good older stepbrother role when your parents married, despite him being only a few months older than you.

“thank you rafey.” you say sweetly as he walks you up the stairs, your arms holding him around the shoulders, head leaned against his broad chest.

“yeah, you gotta give me a better thank you than that.” rafe rolls his eyes as he carries you into your bedroom. only once the door is closed do you press a wet kiss to his cheek as a proper thank you.

rafe plops you down on the bed unceremoniously. “there ya go.” he waves as he walks away, knowing it's not actually goodnight as you let out a whine.

“tuck me in?”

rafe hides his smirk before turning around, putting on his slightly annoyed act like he always does when you ask him.

rafe pulls the fluffy blanket out from under you. it's slightly weighted so it naturally tucks around your body anyways as rafe covers you, but his hands still move slowly, feeling your body as he pushes in the blanket until you're stuck tight underneath it.

“anything else? want me to tell you a bedtime story?” rafe says it as a joke, but with the way your eyes light up, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, recounting three little pigs from memory the best he can.

“alright, you gotta get to bed now.” rafe glances at the clock on your nightstand as the hour hand ticks closer to midnight. “goodnight.”

“goodnight rafey.” you smile softly before letting out a yawn. “ill give you a proper thank you soon.”

rafe isn't sure what you mean until he makes it back to his room, scrolling aimlessly through his phone until a text message appears from you.

he clicks it to open up the image, his eyes widening and dick swelling as he sees you in a silky nightgown, the swell of your breasts clearly visible, nipples poking through the fabric. he recognizes the nightgown from a few days ago, but you clearly got further undressed.

rafes eyes bulge as the next image loads, the same pose, now sans nightgown, tits bare and thighs clenched together to make a delicious looking v that rafe wants to dive into.

a proper thank you ;) reads your text, along with one last image, this time with your legs spread, smile on your face as your cunt is on clear display. you took the marker tool to add to your lower stomach “property of big brother.”

rafe is in your room untucking you from your bed before the clock reaches midnight.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

manmade monsters Sun/Moon au. bc i have no self control lol

i also mentally call it the 'why are there giant robot monsters in my shed' au lol

idk what else to say so uh. enjoy

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

OCT. 17 — KINKTOBER ‘23

KNIFE & GUN PLAY WITH JASON TODD

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, blood, gun play isn't gorey, penetrative sex, cum play for a second, possessive jason, reader calls jason daddy once, (if i missed any pls message me!)

jason hesitated only slightly when you had mentioned having rougher sex. took a beat to read your face one night after dinner when the topic was somehow brought up, a tilt of his head and arch of his brow following.

it wasn’t like the two of you were purely vanilla when it came to your bedroom tendencies. you started by asking jason to choke you, your hand placing overtop of his to press harder—clearly nervous of his strength and your limits. then, jason tested out slapping… and with the way your pussy clenched around him, it was safe to say there was a green light in front of that too.

but… when you were playing with the switchblade that the man kept in his pocket when you had run the blade over your fingers gently, and the words, "i wouldn’t be upset if you used this in bed," fell from your tongue, jason could only smirk to himself.

"want me to put a lil’ tattoo on you princess?" he asks, holding his hand out in asking for the blade, to which you hand to him. you nod with a grin, lifting up the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. the soft flesh of your upper thigh being exposed, your fingers running over the skin. "right here," you say, the skin right under the hem of your panties being traced with your fingertip.

you look from the skin between your hip and thigh to jason who’s sat in front of you, his eyes darkening as he looks at your skin. the hand that’s not holding the blade grabs the soft flesh, squeezing it and giving it a little tap.

"'jason’s'… how does that sound?" green eyes meet yours, his demeanor changing to one of those that says he's ready to pounce on you at any given second. "mhm, mark me up. wouldn’t be your first time," you nod with a laugh, pulling up your top to show one of your boobs, a dark purple love mark sucked into the skin from two days prior.

jason tilts his head in thought, questioning if he should hold out on telling you his desire that followed yours. the desire that has just reached the front of his mind, a thought that only a questionable vigilante who's killed hundreds would have. his eyes trailed over your body as he does so, to which you scrunch your eyebrows. "yes?" he holds a momentary finger up at you as he silently walks away, making his way into your bedroom without a word.

a few minutes go by, your attention is turned to the television until the man walks back into the room. nothing has changed about him, besides the fact that he’s holding a hand behind his back. one end of jason’s lips is tugged upwards despite the nervousness to reveal the idea he was keeping away from you.

he takes a seat, sweatshirt bunching up around his hips as he brings his arm forward. now your eyes widen—excited and nervous yourself. the hesitation is understandable, as any other sane person would most likely make a run for it.

the shiny, clean metal was one you’d only seen when jason had come home from being the red hood. when he had come off of patrol and you were in the rarity of being awake at the late hour of the night, watching him strip himself of his vigilante clothing and tools. the tools he had hidden in the back of your shared closet, several locks attached as a safety measure.

the mechanism that your boyfriend had used hundreds of times—either to take a life or to severely hurt another. now, holding it in front of you, his eyes never leaving your face.

"why not both?" he asks, turning the gun to show you that the safety is on, continuing to open the slots where bullets would be found and showing that it was clear of any possibilities of harm.

while jason was around guns and every possibility of weaponry on a daily basis, you weren’t. but, you weren’t opposed to the idea, and the way your heart rate quickened and your underwear started to get wet was proof of that.

with wide eyes you nod and stand up to take jason’s hand, leading you to the room that you were normal to experimenting in.

you both were quick to strip yourselves of clothes, your mind occupied with ways that you could make use of the gun, finally landing on the one thing that you know jason would like.

on a carpet in front of your bed, you fall to your knees on the ground below you, hands sitting pretty and expectantly on your thighs. wide eyes watch your boyfriend smirk at the way you’re ready for him, finding his space in front of you, standing tall and proud with the gun still in his hand.

if jason hadn’t cleaned his guns religiously, you wouldn’t dare to put the one in his hand anywhere near you—god knows what would lie on the surface of it. but, jason took care of them as if they were his prized possession, the same way he took care of you.

so, he places the gun in front of him, right where his cock would usually fall if you were to suck him off. instead of him, though, your tongue slips between your lips to find the tip of the gun, letting it lay flat against the underside of the cool metal while his cock stands proudly behind it.

his eyes stay pointed downwards, watching the way you wrap your lips around the cold metal. while his face doesn't read anything but focus, his internals are going off the charts. his cock hard as a rock while his heart beats faster and faster in anticipation. anticipation of watching you suck his gun, and his cock, and fucking you with pretty metal touching your throat and scarlet running down your thigh from his idea of a tattoo.

while your soft lips left a salivated mess on the tip of jason's pistol, you decided to bring a hand to his member. thumb running over the tip, pleased to feel his pre and following suit in running down his length, beginning to slowly jerk him off. a soft smile tugging your lips when you watch his breath hitch in his throat from the contact.

like a flick of a light switch, jason's throwing the weapon to your bed with a shake of his head. helping you stand up with a hand holding your throat, forcing a choked whine to leave you because of the strength of your boyfriend. your eyes go wide when he leans down to face you, grip still holding the soft skin that coats your neck.

"i'm gonna give it all to you tonight, sweetheart. don't worry about that pretty head of yours, okay?" he questions, throwing you on the bed and finally releasing you, allowing you space and time to catch your breath while jason takes his time crawling between your legs that you oh-so gladly spread for him.

it should be a crime to be as wet as you are due to the minimal contact your boyfriends had with you. hardly laying more than a hand on you and dripping onto the bed without care, eyes meeting his dark ones and watching as he grabs the gun once more.

only this time, his confidence is at a high. all hints of hesitation leaving his body and the action of rubbing the opening of the gun between your folds is done selfishly. of course, he knows it feels good with the symphony of whines and moans you sing for him, but he can't help but to indulge in the sight alone. dark eyes watching the way your cunt flutters, begging to be penetrated rather than teased with the metal.

jason's hungry for everything you give to him.

"such a slut," he begins, locking eyes with you once more, "all wet from a fuckin' gun?" you babble something that sounds like a confirmation, and it makes jason scoff, halting his movements just where you need him; tip of his gun pressed and paused at your entrance. "beg for it."

your cheeks flush, turn red at the demand he makes. but, it's dumb to deny it. dumb to act like you won't fuck the killing machine that was just pressed to the puffy lips of your mouth.

"fuck me with it, please," you say lightly, knowing it's not enough, but wanting to push jason further. after all, he said he'd give it all to you tonight, so you'll make him prove it.

his voice grows deeper, louder and he nudges your clit that begging for attention with the metal, allowing weight to fall on it which makes you squirm under his harsh gaze. "fuckin' pathetic... fuck you with what?"

your eyes roll back, hips rolling forward in attempt to move the dead weight that is the gun and gain some stimulation. but, it's to no avail. your eyes grow wide, swollen lips closing before opening once more. "please daddy, wan' you to fuck me with your gun. gonna feel so good, please please please," you press, and jason eats it entirely. angry red cock spilling with precum, milky streak falling against one of his veins.

"mhm, princess," he says, moving the gun downwards and pressing it to your entrance once more, slowly, eyeing the way your hole swallows the metal that pushes inwards until it can't anymore. the sweet moan is something he appreciates, though he knows the size is only a fraction of his cock that you're used to. but, the coolness of it does enough to feel foreign and good.

with a cocky smirk on his lips, he begins fucking you with the weapon. pulling it in and out of you slowly, but increasing in speed with each thrust he delivers; a big hand holding it with his index and middle finger holding the trigger subconsciously. aiming straight towards your cervix, which he'll touch soon enough.

and he fucks you well. fucks you with an arm that has pretty scars and newer cuts littering the skin. veins starting on the top of his hand and trailing to his forearm pumping blood that's evident in the way his cock is begging for attention. but he wants you to cum once on the gun. make a mess out of it in a way that's unlike anything he's ever experienced.

and once you're arching your back against blankets, moaning his name out in a near yell, and attempting to move a hand between your legs to get him to stop fucking you, stimulation too much, he finally gets what he wants.

jason's perverted thoughts cloud his head when he's slow to pull the gun out of you. looking at the metal that's covered in your milky essence. slow enough that there's a string of wetness that connects you to the weapon, and he could cum from that alone.

but the real finale is when he realizes that your cum is filling the barrel of the gun, filling the once-empty space with yourself. he brings it to your lower tummy, spilling the mess all over you in a manner that's filled with pure filth. proceeding to throw the gun to the side, acknowledging the fact that it's served its purpose for tonight. the pain of his hard-on is finally coming to his attention, and he needs to stuff his pussy.

"how'd that feel, gem?" he questions, moving against covers and watching your half-lidded eyes. both hands pull your thighs up so he can push them back, tip teasing your swollen entrance. "g-good," you whimper, and jason would be lying if he paid any attention to your response. your convulsing pussy is the only thing that has his attention right now, the way you're attempting to suck him whole.

and without warning, he's pushing his entire length between your legs, filling you whole and halting his movements once he's completely surrounded by your soft walls. groaning at the sensation of you clenching around him, but resisting moving his hips the way he wants to.

one hand remains gripping the fat of your thigh while the other grabs the switchblade lying on the mattress beside your pretty figure. flicking it open with his fingers, somehow making it look like an art while he's in the process of doing so. your attention follows it, almost forgetting that you're being stuffed full of jason's cock without movement. unwillingly cockwarming the man.

"remind me, baby. where'd you want my name?" jason's eyes move to meet yours, and without fail, a whimper slips past your lips and he feels the tightness that's close to making him hammer himself into you. but he has the patience and self-control that you don't.

his palm meets yours halfway, letting go of your thigh and letting his hand fall overtop of yours, smoothing over the top of your thigh. in the space that's dangerously next to where he's laid out inside of you, and it makes him more hungry for you if that was possible.

he's transferring his blade to the hand that's closer to the skin where you want it, tracing only enough for your skin to become a shade lighter under the pressure. once again looking up at you, he takes note of the way your lips fall open while anticipation grows in your eyes. it makes him smile wildly, a reminder that you want this. that you're the one who asked for it.

"'s gonna hurt," you whimper, and jason shakes his head, setting the blade on your thigh while his big hand takes your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks. "you can handle it, baby. c'mon, where'd my strong girl go?" a smile pulls your lips upwards. "it'll feel just like that tattoo you wanted, it's like a trial before the real thing." he leans towards you, holding back a groan from the way he pushes himself deeper inside your cunt to do so, giving you a sloppy and messy open-mouthed kiss.

then he's pulling back, blade in hand once more, and beginning to get to work. the whimpers are a symphony to his ears as he presses the sharp tip against your soft skin, cutting his name so pretty in your flesh. his eyes watch the way the deep red liquid peeks through the cracks, beginning to drip down the side of your skin. the hand that's not cutting his name into you is squeezing and rubbing the skin of your stomach soothingly.

his hips moving in small circles, enough to give the both of you something, but not enough to make him mess up his painting.

"so fucking pretty, honey," jason says as soon as he's finished, throwing the bloodied blade on the floor to clean up later. but his eyes are unable to see his finished work of art, and jason isn't one to waste.

pulling out of you with a moan, he leans down to the expanse of your thigh, licking over the blood with his tongue flat. he doesn't take note of how you sit up, your eyes widening at the stinging but warm sensation. you watch the way scarlet red coats his tongue, finding its way to the corners of his lips while he sits back up on his knees.

jason's cock stands tall as he uses his thumb to collect the blood from his lips, dark eyes watching yours as he sucks on his own digit. longer than needed, but he can see you like it; whether it be your fluttering cunt or your eyebrows that furrow. he laughs, knowing he's completed what had to be done in order for you to fully be his property.

because now jason's pretty slut girlfriend can't show her cunt to any other man without reading jason's name right beside it.

🏷️: @harleycao, @idyllcy, @hails227, @aviixol, @hopeannalea, @hearttjason, @roysjason, @blursotongz, @zaxlarza, @wartofart, @loviie-stuff, @nmw-am, @nightjarwings

[r0tting-rat]

"Little pest."

Hi Magpie!!! Gift :> Just a lil thing for a very talented someone with an incredible au. Yeah I'm a huge simp for their alien boys what about it /silly

Pairing: Alien King!Eclipse (by @sleepymagpie-draws) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: None, maybe just a bit ooc (sorry mags) Words: 4000+ Summary: You're bored and can't sleep. Thank god you have someone to annoy to pass the time <3 Heavily inspired by this ask/art!!! Literally died when I saw it he's so beautiful. Additional tags: TouchSTARVED reader. Starved as hell. Also fluff fluff fluff so much fluff. Magpie I love him can you tell. (Reminder everyone that the reader has techincally been kidnapped, but they're pretty chill about it dw)

Who said being kidnapped by aliens is a terrifying and horrible experience? It has already been months since Sun literally grabbed you and brought you with him, and you have yet to be put on a vivisectionist's table. In fact, all you have known since then are silky sheets, soft pillows, ornate plates of fresh fruits you have never seen before, and heavy pieces of jewelry that hang down your neck and rest fresh against your sternum. You live better than you used to back on Earth, spoiled rotten by three royals every single day of your dull life, sleeping in a bed three times the size of a human one, and with countless workers ready to be summoned at your every call. Although, you have to admit that you much prefer the attention of your “captors” compared to the one of their servants, feeling like their soft touches work like a relaxing balm on your mood. 

The one of the three brothers you see less is Eclipse, and even if you can bet your money on the fact that he must be constantly busy due to his duties as a king, you can’t help but wish you could spend more time with him, craving the way he gently scratches the top of your head with his claws whenever he manages to stop by and pay you a visit.

Rolling around in the soft sheets of the bed you are resting on, looking up at the dull ceiling, you feel like a pampered and neglected pet at the same time, left to the care of strangers who refuse to speak more than quick sentences to you, covered by precious gifts from head to toe and fed with silver spoons while also being locked alone in your quarters for hours without end. 

You complain, of course. To Sun, Moon, and anyone who’s willing to swing by and listen, really. You grumble and whine; you roll on your bed and do your best attempt at puppy eyes, but all the brothers do is laugh and caress your cheeks. There are rules—they say—rules that can’t be broken, and each time they remind you, you roll your eyes. They promised you books and games to pass the time, but as you wait for the shipment from Earth to arrive, you are left with nothing. You don’t understand the language of the heavy volumes collecting dust in the bookshelves of your room, and something tells you you wouldn’t enjoy reading them even if you did.

The part of the brothers’ visits you hate the most is when you see them stand up and prepare to leave, because you know that the very moment the door closes behind them, it locks, leaving you stuck in your room for hours. There’s no real keyhole in your door, so you can only guess how it works, but from what you have gathered so far, it seems like it’s semi-automatic but opens only when you’re coming in from the outside. Listening to Sun and Moon made you realize another thing as well: their rooms seem to be close to yours—maybe even adjacent—and the thought infuriates you. So close, and yet so far! Why do they so rarely visit you if they are so close by? Do they have other places to rest? Do they sleep at all? Are the bedrooms just for show? Drowning in questions, you decide that it’s time to break some rules, and when Eclipse finally stops by to visit you after dinner, you come up with a plan. 

The alien is so tall the tip of his crown brushes over the canopy of your bed as he leans over your draped form on the bed. He rests one of his hands on top of your head, brushing your hair back, and you look up at him with a pout.

“Finally decided to pay attention to me?” you say, swatting his hand away and sitting up. You know you’re being a brat, but if they so desire to treat you as a glorified pet, then you might as well show them the reality of owning one. From under his crown, which you consider more like a helmet or mask, you hear the disappointed clicking of his mandibles that translates through your magnetic ring with a soft cooing sound.

“Oh, my pet, are you feeling neglected?” he asks, coming back to gently run his claws through your hair. He loves to do it, and you love allowing him.

“I’m bored, Eclipse.” You have no qualms about calling him by his real name, ignoring any honorific everyone around keeps suggesting to you. “I’m bored, and it’s been almost a week since your last visit.”

You shift back on the bed a little so it doesn’t seem done on purpose, and you watch as the terrifyingly huge alien climbs on the disarranged covers to follow you. He never fully enters your personal space, always keeping enough room between the two of you to keep things “formal,” in a way, but you also noticed how he likes to have you at arm’s length. Every time you are in the same room as Eclipse, one of his four arms is always touching you, resting on your head or shoulder, tilting your chin up, sometimes even running his claws from the base of your spine to the nape of your neck just to see you shiver and glare at him.

“My apologies,” he says, and his words sound sincere, “I promise the shipment will arrive shortly; you’ll have your books in no time.”

“It’s not the books that I want, though,” you reply, leaning closer, and that causes Eclipse to slightly move back, like he’s scared you might end up too close to his face. “You kidnapped me, dragged me here, then proceeded to simply ignore me.”

You weren’t being ignored, of course. You were just acting dramatic so as to get what you wanted.

“I’m sure I do not need to remind you who of the three of us is the one at fault for your presence here. As I told you already, I’m afraid I cannot bring you with me while I work, pet,” Eclipse sighs, “After we expanded on your little planet, both Sun and Moon’s responsibilities and tasks have doubled as well. It has to be said, your fellow humans are quite rowdy.”

You turn your head away, pretending to look saddened by the news—nothing you hadn’t expected, of course, but still.

“Also, the thought of you roaming these halls alone makes us all uneasy,” he adds, “You could get lost, or someone could see you and be scared to the point of calling the guards on you. That’s why we must lock your door, my pet, to keep you safe.”

“Not because you think I might run away?” you question, eyebrows rising up with skepticism, and Eclipse purrs with amusement.

“Run off? And where to, silly?” he laughs, “You wouldn't even know how to leave this place, let alone return to your home planet.”

He’s right; running from them would have been stupid. Plus, you don’t really want to escape—not when you have two princes and a king spoiling you like that—you just need to leave that damned room for at least five minutes so as to not go mad! Is it too much to ask not to be subjected to psychological torture?

“Are you returning tomorrow morning?” you ask, hopeful, and Eclipse shakes his head. You groan, now seriously disappointed, and try not to lean too much into the touch of his hand caressing your cheek. The contact burns, like living embers, and you have to stifle a second groan. It’s been so long since you had some form of physical contact with a human, and something tells you it’s starting to take a toll on you, making you more compliant and demanding of attention. It could be due to the unfamiliar setting, which you simply can’t grow accustomed to despite how much you walk the perimeter of your large room, or the complete absence of familiar faces, but the cause of it doesn’t matter. All you know is that you need to be hugged, to be cuddled, to be held, and to be caressed. You’re touch starved, so hungry for it you could just throw yourself at Eclipse and cling on his neck until he relents and decides to sleep there with you or bring you to his room—either way, you’d get a full night of cuddles; too bad common decency stops you from hugging a king like a koala. 

“I have an important meeting in the morning, so I’m afraid not. I’m sure Sun and Moon might be able to clear their schedules in the afternoon, though, so don’t fret.”

His words are apologetic, but you feel as if they were said with the sole purpose of bringing you harm because they do nothing but hurt you. 

Eclipse leaves after a while of chatting, bringing all the warmth of the room with him, and you watch him from your spot on the edge of the bed as he walks towards the door. You’re on your back, head hanging down the bed, staring blankly at the heels of the king and mentally preparing your next move. You act fast. The door opens, Eclipse slips away, and right before it closes, you throw a pillow in the gap of the threshold. The noise of the pillow falling is soft and muffled, and Eclipse doesn’t seem to notice that the door hasn’t closed completely behind him; instead, he simply walks away in the white corridor outside your room, and you stare at your successful attempt with surprise. You actually did it! The door is still open, blocked by the red pillow, and you finally have access to the rest of the rooms. 

Carefully standing up from your bed, like afraid someone from outside could hear you, you make your way towards the exit and peek out, hoping not to be met with Eclipse’s disappointed masked face. When your eyes travel the length of the long corridor extending before you like a white snake, you find no sign of any alien, and a smile splits on your lips from ear to ear.

The idea of immediately beginning to explore is alluring, but you know better than to leave when it’s still so early. You must wait some time until you’re sure Eclipse must have already retreated to his room for the night, and then enact the second phase of your plan.

Once you’re finally sure enough time has passed since the king has wished you goodnight, you finally push fully open the door of your room, looking around once more to make sure the coast is clear. After that, you put the pillow back to stop the door just in case it couldn’t be opened from outside like you thought, and walk in the direction you’re almost sure Eclipse has taken. During your short trip, you notice the complete lack of furniture or wall decorations in the halls, mumbling to yourself about “rich people’s lack of taste,” occasionally finding a door and trying to open it with no success, and you’re just about to give up when you finally place your open palm against one tall frame and see it move at your gentle touch. 

You stare in disbelief at the room opening before you, large and barren at the same time, trying to understand who the place belongs to while lingering on the door sill. In the darkness you see thousands of books neatly arranged on tall bookshelves, with their colorful and ornate hard covers staring at you as if they’re aware you’re a stranger, and as you enter you notice many have a broken spine. Those books, you realize, have been well loved by someone, or maybe simply re-read dozens of times out of need. It doesn’t matter to you, because what you’re most interested in is the second door in a corner of the room, likely leading to the actual bedchambers. It seems like the initial area has been arranged to be used as an office, separated from the personal spaces, but if that isn’t the truth, then you might have simply stepped into a random library and made a fool of yourself in front of the books. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, and the monkey part of your brain keeps screaming that there’s someone watching you, but the deeper you go in the quarters, the more you keep telling yourself that it’s just your imagination. Your bare feet leave a slight trail on the carpet in the middle of the room as you walk towards the second door. 

As expected, the second room is more similar to a bedroom, although it doesn’t seem to gain any form of personality compared to the office you just left, almost as if the owner of the room doesn’t spend too much time in it. It wouldn’t fit Sun to sleep into such a sterile and dark ambience, and you feel like Moon would also take some more care into creating a welcoming area for himself, so that leaves out only one of the three brothers. 

The size of the bed confirms your theory: you have ended up exactly in Eclipse’s room, and you’re face to face with his sleeping form. Or, at least you guess it must be him, considering how dark it is in that corner. The only source of light in the room is a large window kept almost entirely shut, not allowing a ray of starlight to enter, so you really can’t be sure of anything.

The canopy bed in front of you is enormous, of a deep burgundy color, and see-through curtains drape over it to hide the figure in the middle. As you study the fabrics with the tips of your fingers, testing the softness, you find yourself enamored by it, beginning to press your open palms in the covers and then your face. You breathe in the scent, delicate while also heavy in your nostrils, and recognize the amazing aroma Eclipse brings with him everywhere he goes. You have no idea if it’s his favorite perfume or simply his natural scent; all you know is that it reminds you of the time you fell asleep on the king’s cape while he stopped for a visit, and the morning after, you found it still draped over you like a heavy cloak.

With your face in the covers, you simply close your eyes and let the memory play in your mind, affection blooming in your chest and throat like a warm flower, not noticing the dark frame towering over you from behind. Eclipse, from the height of his 8 ft, looks down at you like you’re nothing but a silly rabbit caught in a trap, about to be served for dinner to a horde of hungry guests. 

“What exactly are you doing here, little pest?” he asks, and his deep growl makes you jump in the spot. When you turn around, your heart is racing, your eyes are wide open, and you feel more like prey than ever before in your life. As soon as you realize that Eclipse isn’t wearing his crown, you suddenly feel your blood pumping in your throat, and your cheeks grow warm at the sight of the red marks around his eyes and the dark color of his face sweetly mixing together, hypnotizing you for a second. All you can think of in that little head of yours is that the male should take off the helm more often so as to let his beautiful eyes see the light of day. 

It isn’t the first time you saw him without the headpiece; sometimes he takes it off after he comes back from a long meeting with his advisors, and the sight always strikes you like lightning.

Eclipse—it has to be said—is beautiful. Not only for the eyes, which are of a wonderful milky color that makes you feel as if they’re cursing you with some kind of magic, but also for his soft features, unfortunately hidden for most of the time. Did his citizens even know their king looked like that? Heavens, you suddenly remember why you’re so happy that you’ve been kidnapped.

Eclipse is wearing something similar to a robe that wraps around his torso while leaving his chest open, with long sleeves covering his four large arms, and everything is kept into place by a tie in the front. He must have been on his way to go to bed before you interrupted him.

“It is only polite to answer when a royal addresses you,” the alien angruily reminds you, and you suddenly realize you haven’t said a thing since he entered. 

“I just… I wanted, I was…” None of your sentences are making sense, so you swallow the lump in your throat and force your mind to clear itself of all the other distracting thoughts. “I just wanted to spend time with you, Eclipse.”

That sentence paired with some well-played puppy eyes is enough to make the alien sigh and relent, annoyed, probably too tired to argue with you after a long day of work.

“I don’t know how you left your room, but that’s unimportant now. You should return, it’s late,” he says, and you pout.

“Why can’t I sleep here?” you ask, and Eclipse looks down at you like you have grown a second head. 

“I have a meeting tomorrow morning. Have you forgotten?” he sounds incredulous, “I’ll wake up early.”

You shrug after fake-pondering for a second. You had already made your decision. 

“I don’t mind,” you reply with a small smile, “I sleep for the most part of the day anyway, so I’m well rested.”

Eclipse’s eyes turn into slits as he stares down at you, one pair of arms crossed over his chest and the other pair of fists on his hips. You can’t help but admire the dip of his collarbones as the fabric of his robe reveals more of him.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” he sighs, and your smile widens as you see his resolve start to break. You shake your head, and Eclipse finally relents. “Fine, get on the bed already.”

With a smug expression, you jump on the soft covers, happy with your little win, and you watch from behind the see-through curtain the king as he walks back in his personal library and returns, a moment later, with a book in his hand. You turn around, curious, and realize that the frame you thought belonged to Eclipse was actually just a bunch of pillows stuffed under the covers. Had he put them there because he had heard you come in? That would explain why he was ready to jump on you the very moment you turned your back.

The king motions you to get under the covers, then parts the curtains to slip in himself. Your eyes don’t miss the way his tense frame relaxes once his body finally rests on the mattress, as if the dark red sheets weren’t made of fabric but rippling water of a warm spring. One of his hands wraps around you, caressing your back, and you take it as a sign you can scoot closer and lay your cheek on his chest. The contact is pleasant, sending a nice buzzing of emotions down your spine, and you find yourself leaning onto him more and more every second, warm face resting on a cold and hard exoskeleton with a sigh. His main pair of arms opens the book on a page in the middle, and, with his back against the headboard, he begins reading a book with pages covered in mysterious letters and signs.

You can’t help your curiosity, and the words slip out of your mouth even before you can stop them. You don’t want to bother him, but you crave to hear him talk to you some more. 

“What are you reading?” you ask, and Eclipse begins to smile.

“Fiction. After so many hours spent on documents, I need something to distract my mind.”

“I didn’t take you for the type,” you murmur, and your sentence makes him laugh.

“You just don’t know me enough, pet,” he almost purrs, and once again your face heats up. How can he say that as if it was nothing? You do want to know him more—in fact, you want to know everything about Eclipse. You want to know his favorite books, his favorite scents, what he does in the morning after waking up, and what he likes to eat. You want to ask about his childhood, you want to spend time with him and his brothers, you want to learn more about their culture and more about them as well. You want to be able to spend every second with the three of them, but you can’t, so you cherish the moment you have with Eclipse before you eventually fall asleep.

“That’s something we can always change,” you say, nuzzling closer to him and closing your eyes for a moment. You’re so close you can hear the pumping of his heart under his exoskeleton, and the sound of it is almost lulling you to sleep. “What’s the story about?”

“Ah, just a tale about two lovers,” he explains, “It’s tragic, but I can’t fall asleep without reading at least a chapter.”

“I hope it’s not too tragic,” you murmur, “It’d be sad if one died.”

“I must agree with you here,” Eclipse hugs you even closer. “They’re made for each other. If one were to pass away, I have no idea what the other would do.”

You feel cradled by the gentleness in his words, the emotion that you so rarely hear in them, like a hand caressing your cheek and tilting your face up. When you do open your eyes, you find Eclipse fondly looking down at you with a small smile.

“Keep going,” you mutter, fighting with your own heavy eyelids as you speak, “I wanna know about them…”

“Sleep, my dear pet,” Eclipse whispers instead, bending down to kiss the top of your head, “I’ll tell you more tomorrow.”

You don’t want tomorrow to come, you know you wouldn’t stand to see him wearing his crown and leave for the day. The thought is so painful you curl up into a ball and groan, and you stop only when a pair of strong arms hold you close to a hard chest, and you realize that Eclipse has fully slipped under the cover and is now gently hugging you, one hand on the nape of your neck, another burying its fingers in your hair, and the last two resting on your hips. Another kiss is placed on your forehead, and you swear you might just start boiling on the spot.

“What about your book?” you ask with a tired and groggy voice, wrapping yourself around Eclipse some more, like you’re afraid someone might come in and untangle you from him. 

“It’ll wait,” the king answers. 

“But you said you can’t sleep without reading…” Your eyes are closed again, and this time you feel like they might not open until morning.

“This can work as well.” 

You finally fall asleep cradled and hugged by Eclipse’s arms, uncaring of his hard shell being so different from any kind of fur or skin humans might find more comfortable, and when you do manage to sleep into your own world, you do it with a smile on your lips. You’re no longer afraid of turning around right after waking up and finding the bed empty and cold, not anymore, not when Eclipse is making up for all the lack of affection you had to endure. 

Next time, you’ll try to see if you can rope Sun and Moon into it too. It’d be nice to have a sleepover all together.

[judasgot-it]

i would like to request what hunting dogs would do when their s/o has insomnia, a lot of hugs and kisses please🥰

Sorry for the inactivity, I apologize everytime and I feel horrible about it :,(

I have horrible insomnia right now (I can't sleep well no matter what I try, it's hopeless) so I'm 100% using this to cope a bit. Also sorry about how messy reader is in Tecchou's part, I just love messy crying. I'm so weak for it.

Scenario: They help you fall asleep (Jouno, Tecchou)

Jouno

893 words

Jouno couldn't tell the time.

Whatever time it was, his body didn't care - it was screaming at him to go back to bed, making his bones feel sluggish with their weight.

Unfortunately, his ears kept pestering him, since no matter how quiet you tried to be, he could still hear you in the kitchen. Doing what? Jesus Christ, who knew.

Whatever it was, it was too damn loud.

It felt nearly impossible for Jouno to make his body move, but by some feat, he managed. He found his feet both on the ground, walking towards the bedroom, out the too-long hallway, and into the kitchen to see what in god's name you could think was worth losing sleep over.

By his guess, it was most probably around 2 in the morning. How horrible.

"Hi."

There was a loud clatter as he heard you drop the dishes in the sneak rather unquietly. Also, you screamed, but that was to be expected.

"Oh my god!"

Is there a God at this forsaken time of night?

Jouno sighed as he leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes out of habit.

"Yeah. I'm right here."

He gave you a moment to collect yourself, your heartbeat still skyrocketing through the roof. He yawned, nearly deafened by the sound of his jaw pulling at his muscles.

"So."

As patient as he could, he waited. There was noise on your end - a clattering of dishes, and he was sure you threw a towel somewhere, but that was of lesser importance.

"So. Jouno."

"Yeah?"

You patted your bare thighs, popping your lips together. Nervous.

"Why are you up?"

You tried to play your words off with a giggle. He knew he probably looked the least bit pleased, but nothing was going to convince him to go easy on you right now.

"Y/n. You know why I'm up. I'm the one asking the questions here, if I recall."

"Oh, right. Because you're 'the greatest hunting dog' and all, right?"

Jouno sighed, covering his eyes. He took a deep breath in, holding it in. It was calming, feeling his lungs slowly fill with air. His head cleared, helping him realize that the headache he had was I'm part due to the tension he was keeping in his body. In that time, he heard your heart beat skyrocket, your breath slowing as you stared.

He tried not to smile as he let go of his breath slowly. If Jouno wasn't exhausted he would have teased you about it.

"'Don't do this to me. It's 2 in the morning, go to bed."

Your laughter was a nice noise to hear. Just not now. God, not now. His body was dragging him to the ground and your laughter was reminding him that he was standing, awake - as if he were in hell.

Your laughter shouldn't be in a place as torturous as this. Like the hell between staying awake and crawling back to bed, because someone thought baking at two in rhe morning was a good idea.

"Sorry princess, but I need to put these brownies in the fridge. I'm trying out this recipe I saw online and I think-"

You didn't get to finish that sentence, as you were instead kidnapped in Jouno's arms. The man didn't care to hear the end of it - he only wanted it to end.

"No." He sighed, pressing his cold nose against your neck. "You're insane, honestly."

He muffled his words into your shirt collar, still restraining you as you struggled against his hold. There was no point, as no matter what way you fought, you couldn't fight against a super-enhanced human - even a tired one.

"This is so ..."

You paused for a bit, looking for the right words. Your brain was tired, although it hadn't registered to you just yet. Your heart still beat fast enough for you to convince yourself that you were awake, even if your eyes and mind were exhausted.

"So ...fun police of you."

The words that came out of your mouth came out sloppy at best, but they got a lame chuckle out of Jouno.

With care, he took you back to the bedroom - dropping you onto the bed like a pile of unfolded laundry. You practically laid there as if you were dead anyway.

"I have no problem arresting and cuffing you to bed if it means sleep is involved."

You giggled, as much as your tired brain could push from your throat. The bed shifted as Jouno dropped himself on the mattress, pulling up the still warm blanket over the two of you.

"What if that meant something else was involved too?"

Jouno groaned, turning back towards you. He could imagine the stupid smile on your face right now.

"Y/n."

"Yeah?"

Jouno took his hand and slowly, carefully, dragged it across your face. He felt as your eyebrows pinched in confusion, and your eyelids fluttered before he finally set his fingertips on your lips.

"Shush."

He felt you nod against his hand, before finally relaxing. Tiredly, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair as he slowly pressed his lips against your forehead.

"Goodnight, sleepyhead."

Jouno felt a smile pull on his face at those words. Like an idiot, he let you roam your hands around his body - when really he should have smothered you to death.

Tecchou

739 words

Waking up before you were supposed to was like a coin toss - depending on the mood it's either a great early start, or the worst feeling in the world. Sometimes the body had gotten it's full rest, or it was forced awake by something talked about in horror stories.

Tecchou decided he was indeed not well rested, and that waking up at what could well be 2 in the morning was equivalent to a horror story. Why would he want to wake up to one of the worst sounds a man could hear - his own partner, crying?

Maybe if he was Jouno, but he didn't want to think about that.

He sat up, listening as he tried to decipher what you were doing.

You were rather quiet, trying your hardest to hide your cries behind your blanket (gross, but he appreciated the effort). Opening his eyes, he glanced over to see that you were enraptured by some sort of video on your phone, the blue light illuminating your face (and probably burning your retinas, from Tecchou's guess).

He shuffled closer, trying to peak at the screen while not disturbing you. Whatever you were staring at on your phone had distracted you well enough to not even notice his presence, was slightly concerning to Tecchou - you were very spatially aware.

Shaking your shoulder, he winced when you screamed - right in his ear, with snot blowing right across his face. He elected to not react to it, considering how red your eyes looked.

"Tecchou!"

"Yea. I'm here." He replied while casually wiping off his face with the blanket he was once sleeping peacefully under.

He stared at you, his amber eyes glowing from your phone screen. You looked back, trying to readjust to the sudden change in brightness.

"M'sorry, did I wake you?" You had finally shut off you phone, resting it on your chest - giving yourself a good chance to see his full face.

"Why are you crying, babe?"

His hand roamed around your stomach, softly pulling at the fabric around it. It made you shiver as you felt his legs press against yours, warming you underneath the sheets.

"Oh...um..." You tore your gaze away from his, staring straight at the ceiling. You fidgeted with your phone, trying to stop your trembling lip.

Carefully, Tecchou reached over and wiped away your spilled-over tears, thumbing your cheek as if your skin were made of glass. He pulled you closer, resting your head against his chest, trying to calm you. Adversely, this had the opposite effect, making you start to cry even more onto his naked skin.

There were muffled stupid and sorry between your sobs, although he elected to ignore them for now. Instead, he waited as your body was racked with tears, shaking and holding onto Tecchou as if he were a lifeline.

"Hey, babe?" Calmly rubbing your shoulder, Tecchou waited as you wiped your snot and tears along your sleeve, sniffing as loud as an American bullfrog.

"Can I ask what upset you so much?"

You lightly smacked his shoulder, still hiding yourself within his warmth.

"You already did, ass."

"Right."

He went back to holding you, waiting for your reply. Eventually, when he thought you would have maybe decided to fall back asleep again instead, with the room still cast in pitch-black shadows, you decided to reply -

"I failed my exam."

Silently, Tecchou nodded.

There wasn't anything he could say to make you feel better, at no words that he knew to say. It was easier to simply pull you closer, to make you feel better through his hold than to say anything more.

"It's fine, you should try and sleep. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning."

Carefully, he pulled your phone from your hand, sliding it onto the bedside table, hoping to stop you from looking at your failure once again.

You didn't need to be reminded of it anymore, not when he could distract you right now.

As gently as a man like Tecchou could, he took to scratching at the soft skin at the back of your neck, gently tapping his rough fingernails along your spine. He smiled as felt you begin to relax, breathing out a sigh as his fingertips brushed alongside your bare shoulder blades.

He watched as you relaxed into his form, waiting until you started to breathe slower so he could allow himself to fully fall asleep once again.

Sorry about the months-long break, I didn't mean to abandon Tecchou. Also btw IRLs of mine know about this account so if I start sounding even weirder on here it's because I stopped caring about my employment opportunities

[super-marvel-dc]

Jason and Y/N have a total of 14 kids that Y/N adopted off the street (don't worry Y/N will probably find more to take in...). Jason and Y/N ended up having to buy a huge house with lots of bedrooms and a hundred acres of land in case someone *cough* Y/N *cough* decides to take in more kids, then they'll have to add on. At least there's plenty of room! There's plenty of trees and a big pond where the Todds spend their weekends together having a picnic as a big, dysfunctional, happy family. They also own three dogs, three cats, horses (again, thanks to Y/N because Jason is a sucker for them and them only. Whatever Y/N wants Y/N gets), chickens, cows, ducks, fish, koi fish in the pond, and two donkeys named Donkey and Dragon all thanks to one of their daughters who is obsessed with watching Shrek. Like so obsessed she dressed up as Fiona for five Halloweens straight and had multiple Shrek themed birthdays... Don't even think about washing her donkey plushie when she's awake of she will scream... It freaked out Jason for a while. Shopping? Oh, well, that's something itself. Thought it was hard shopping with Jason? Think again. It's much worse with Jason plus 14 kids and they all want McDonald's on the way home. Before you go asking how the Todds get to the store with 14 kids in a normal truck/car, they don't, they drive a school bus Y/N "found" one day while out and about. They still have their sports bikes and vehicles they love so much, but when it's family shopping day it's the bus. Dinner? Everyone is helping out one way or another. It's so chaotic, but Jason and Y/N wouldn't have it any other way. Everyone at their kids school knows not to mess with them because they have crazy—but awesome—parents. Alex is the only one that is deaf so he is homeschooled, and everyone learned sign language just for him. The first time everyone signed the whole happy birthday song he had tears in his eyes and the biggest smile on his face. Not picking favorites or anything but he's definitely a Y/N's little boy. Monday night is movie night and they have to keep track on who's turn it is to pick out a movie or world war III breaks out, and it ain't pretty. Jason stopped buying nice vases after those few times they didn't keep track... Sunday is date night for Jason and Y/N, and nothing will interfere with it because Jason will throw a fit (unless it was an emergency). No doubt you'll find Maggie cuddled between her parents when it's thundering outside, her little Robin teddy bear held tightly in her arms as she snores peacefully. Snow days are perfect, everyone outside playing in the snow (playing a game of snowball fights that tend to get out of hand) and drinking hot chocolate afterwards, wrapped up in blankets while sitting around the fireplace. Jason scolding his kids after they snuck a raccoon in the house without his permission all while Y/N grins sheepishly at Jason as they hold the hands of twins who both have matching smiles on their little faces, both missing a front tooth, and Jason sighing, shaking his head with a small smile on his lips thinking to himself how he got so lucky to have Y/N and his big family he wouldn't give up for the world.

Please, do not steal my work

[ispyspookymansion]

meeting tumblr mutuals is the fanfiction of social interactions

[kiruamon]

Grey World AU - Visit from the Moon 3

Aaaand the ninth part of this AU. Things are slowly calming down...

Finally done it. A week later than I thought. But with this we have finished Moon's "little visit".:D

[bilolli]

Hi @spadillelicious , yesterday I read your fic and I'm normal about it. Take a messy fanart.

[doll3tt33]

heyy! love ur bots lol. could you make a tate langdon bot. any scenario :)

Dry Bones ⋅˚₊𐙚

Idk if you guys ever heard of the paranormal game dry bones, but I just got the inspiration from my dumbass playing ritual games with my friends when I was younger.

The greeting message:

And sorry for taking awhile! I was pretty burned out yesterday. Tate is more of a complex boy, so I was taking the time to make my bot as in-character as possible! I wrote his backstory and all the important deets in his definition, so it should work fine! <33

Also, again with the long ass greeting. I can’t control myself ever since c.ai gave me the freedom to write more for the introduction 💀

[hunterbunter3000]

loving that Sweetheart white era i bet the hair was an accident and the boys has never seen her l i v i d

RIGHT??? like she was gonna kill someone fr fr

Sweetheart: THE BOX SAID BLONDE NOT FUCKING STORM WHITE

Oh, she was mad.

Yelling at everyone, giving everyone death glares

And then Graves said something about it and she threw him in the trash (LITERALLY-- PICKED HIM UP AND PUT HIM IN A TRASH BIN)

But Price said it looked good on her anyway and gave her a Lil wink

She was like "Teehee 🤭 Thank yeewww" and that calmed her down 💀 AND THE GUYS WERE ALL HUDDLED IN A CORNER BEING SCARED AND THEN SHES ALL FLOWERS AND HEART THE SECOND SHE HEARS A COMPLIMENT ABOUT IT

LIKE???

Sweetheart is... something else man 💀💀

[aelyosos]

this has been the weirdest week for me