#you may pet and smooch him

[weevmo]

Would Nim be alright with it if one showers him with many kisses and headpats?

Give him a moment to prepare for physical contact!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[hoshigray]

Can i request toji doing this to reader 👉👈

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: YEEEEEESSSS!!! I mean–ahem–yes, you may request this delicious prompt ٩(ˊᗜˋ )و

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (presses and swiping) - Daddy kink - missionary position - praises - unprotected sex (no release on Toji's part, tho) - pet names (baby, mama, sweet thing, sweetie) - voice kink - Toji being a teaseing bastard, lawl - implied prior masturbation.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“Haaah…Toji—Mmmm!“

“Shhh, I’m right here, sweetie…Did’ya sleep well?”

It’s not unusual for you to be asleep when Toji returns home from work, especially when he’s been away for more than three nights. 

But, fuck, when he returns home, all he can think about is having your soft frame in his starved grasp.

You lay so peacefully on his bed, your man watching the rise and fall of your figure and listening to your snore while he quietly enters the room. Once he drops his stuff down, he’ll crawl up to be atop you, emerald eyes scanning every feature of your beautiful face he wants to kiss so badly. 

And the truth is that you’re just as touch starved as he is, left here to await his return while he’s doing God-knows-what (you’re unaware of his assassin gig) and worrying about his absence. But when you awake to the smooth sensation of your lips being pressed on, you don’t scream or holler; far from that. Instead, you kiss back and open your sleepy eyes to see the grown man above you. 

“To…ji?” Your voice is strained with exhaustion yet curious. 

The dark-haired man shushes you with his lips onto yours, moaning with you while his hands spread your legs for him to lay comfortably between. “Missed ya, mama,” his gruff voice so low that your stomach immediately flips at the erotical tone. 

“I missed you, too,” you admit in between smooches, and you melt when he cups your cheeks to keep your face with his. “Missed you so…Hmmm…”

More kisses have you relax, his scarred mouth trailing down to suck on the skin of your neck to listen to more of your sweet gasps. “Yeah? My baby missed me?” You chew your lips as he whispers in your ear, and your hips instinctively move at the motion of his hand, palming the groin of your shorts. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout me while I was gone? ‘Cuz I sure was.” 

“Yesss,” your answer slurred by the lick and kiss to your helix. “Yes, I ha—Aaah!”

His hand sneaks inside the hem of your shorts, not surprised to meet your bare cunt with his fingers. Your wetness instantly coats the rough pads of his fingertips as he nestles between your labia. “Thinkin’ ‘bout me so much that y’re all wet like this?” You can practically hear the grin uplifting the scar on his lips. “Hmm? Ya miss Daddy so much that you touch y’rself while I’m gone, huh?”

Your eyes are sewn shut at the sensation of your folds being fingered, and your lips ajar once Toji inserts his middle finger. Wiggling the digit around, scratching your walls with the blunt of his fingertips, it has you wail softly. “Yessss, missed you—Oooh! S..So much, Daddy…”

“Heh, dirty lil’ thing,” Toji’s finger goes faster, and the raven-haired man enjoying your shrieks gets a little louder, and your breath halts at his ring finger teasing your entrance. “Tell Daddy how much ya missed me.”

You arch your back at the insert of the other digit; your fatigue vanishes with every graze of the two fingers. “Haaah…Miss how you kiss me—Ahh!” He toys with your clit with the brush of his thumb. “H-How good you–Mmnn!–make me feel…” He kisses your forehead; the gentleness contrasting with the salacious squelches from your shorts causes a haze.

“Yeah? Ya like when I make ya feel good?” His fingers go faster, and the presses on your clitoris go frequently. “Just like?”

“Mmnoooh,” Toji kisses you again, this time more passionately with tongue exploring your mouth; you twitch around his digits as they curl and rub. “I…Love it!”

Toji chuckles. “That’s what I wanna hear, sweet thing,” and he removes his hand from your shorts to lick your fluids clean. “‘Cuz I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout makin’ you feel good on my way here.”

He discards your bottoms to the bedroom floor seconds before he unzips his pants and brings them down with his boxer briefs. Toji has his dick free for you to marvel at, the nether limb not yet fully erected, yet the quick pulse of it has your mouth water. He slaps the tip onto your leaky chasm; the sight makes your vagina throb. So much so that you clamp tighter as he pushes the soft tip into you. “Relax fr’ me, mama,” he coaxes you through, gradually pushing every inch of him inside. “Daddy’s gotcha, ‘kay?”

You howl inaudibly, furrowed brows as the base of his cock kisses your folds. And when he grinds his pelvis down? Jesus, you grip the sheets to serve as reins; contracts around his girth are inevitable. 

“Fuck,” he curses above you. “So warm and tight like always…”

When he begins to move, it’s at a slow pace. The feeling of his dick pushing into and pulling out of you so sensually is so erotic to your senses, especially witnessing the thing burrowing inside your warmth with your own eyes. Oh, my God, you can feel it getting stiffer, making your excitement dial-up.

The member goes firmer with every stroke, and every sensation differs from the last. His shaft stands solid inch by inch, your eyes shooting up as you become fuller by the second. One pull and push has you whimper. Another push and pull, and your toes curl at the stretch of him becoming greater. Another slow push, and you're calling for him with a shaky breath as the tip of his now solid limb lightly jabs your cervix. 

And Toji adores the view under his bow, your body reacting to his erect cock scraping your insides to the point of broken cries. “How ya feelin’, baby?” His sultry voice pulls you in as he increases the speed scarcely. 

“Daahh, s-so full,” the snicker to your ear makes you clamp on him harder. “So good…Nnoohh!! Daddy, st–Ooop! D-Don’t thrust so—” 

“Hmm? What’s up?” You don’t have to open your eyelids to see that the older man above you has a mischievous look after suddenly sneaking a quick rut to your entrance. “What; don’t like it when I go like…this?” Toji’s hips go erratically, the motion making it easy to rub on your inner walls and sweet spots to the point of shrilled shrieks leaving your lips. “Or…this?” He sluggishly pulls himself back where it’s only the tip of his shaft that’s nestled inside you, only for him to snap his hips back in a rushed second. It takes a moment for you to process and let out a scream as the cockhead pokes your delicate cervix with precision. 

Your hands frantically find his shoulders to grip his shirt, “Daddyyy, please, sl–Oooh–Slow down…! If you keep goin’, I’ll cu—….Mmmm!!” Your pleas don’t stop him; they fuel him to keep pounding into you. Balls deep for him to keep probing you with hits to the narrow end again, and your legs wrap around his waist without you thinking. How could you think? Your head kept pounding along with the climb of your orgasm, trembles climbing up your spine. 

“What’re ya holdin' it fr’, huh?” All it takes is Toji to bend to your ear once more, kissing your cheek as his pelvis slams into your aching slit. “Cum, mama. Lemme know how good y’re feelin’.” 

As if on command, your climax hits you hard, like a wave crashing down on your poor form, drowning your senses with euphoria like no other. Your cunt squeezes around Toji’s girth, your nerves spiking to a sensitive high that has you winded and cold for a moment. And the man above you hisses at the flutter of your walls; his rocking cadence slows down to relish the feeling.

You wail in ecstasy; a tiny sharp gasp leaves you from the gentle kiss he places on your forehead. 

“There ya go, sweetie,” he coos with a kiss to the chin before straightening himself. You observe him remove his shirt to dump it onto the floor, and your face becomes hotter when Toji ventures down, where his face gets closer to your wet entrance. “ All wet and ready fr’ me…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫��𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[cloudyskydreams]

Hello I have a request how would all the papyrus’s react if the reader came up to them and gave them a spontaneous kiss and walked away like nothing happened like a tease

Ps love your writing keep it up with the good work 🙏🏽

Ahhh hi! Nice to see you in my inbox hehe this is a fun ask and I had some motivation before work so I thought I'd get it done! Thanks for the kind words! Hope you enjoy ::3! Just saw this said the Papyri but I went ahead and did the sans too lol.

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Undertale

Sans:

Chuckles as he watches you walk away. He doesn't do anything about it for a bit before he pulls the same thing with a little extra spice. He waits till you're doing something before coming over and pulling you close to him pressing kisses along your jawline till he kisses you on the lips and then walks away with a satisfied grin. What happens next is up to you.

Papyrus:

Blushes from the kiss and watches you walk away in shock. He thinks about it for the awhile not really realizing you're teasing him and just assuming you wanted to surprise him with a kiss before coming up with his own plan to kiss you back. He sets up an elaborate scheme that has way too many parts and it all ends with him giving you a little smooch. It's all really dramatic and a little goofy but in the end you got a kiss from your sweet datemate!

Underfell

Red:

Blushes bright red and then smirks before chasing after you. When he finally corners you he presses you up against the wall and slides a leg in between yours. "can't get away that easy sweetheart." He purrs as he leans in and kisses you passionately slipping his tongue into your mouth the first chance he gets as his hands slide down your body.

Edge:

Stunned for a second before smirking and grabbing you by the hips to pull you back into his chest. "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING PET." He'd say with a husky voice in your ear as his hands firmly hold you against him and he pressed himself into you. He bites down gently where your shoulder meets your neck and then releases you. "KEEP BEING A TEASE AND I'LL HAVE TO PUNISH YOU." He says lovingly and then walks away with a smirk.

Underswap

Blue:

He leans into the kiss as you pull away and looks at you with a small pout before smirking as you walk away. It's so on. The rest of the day is full of Blue teasing you. "Accidentally" rubbing up against you or whispering naughty things in your ear while you're doing something. You may have won the first battle but that's because he let you, now he's determined to win the war and he won't stop until you're begging him to go further.

Stretch:

He blushes from the surprise kiss but returns it quickly and tries to wrap his hands around your waist but you're already backing away. "aww honey don't be a tease." He says as you walk off with a satisfied smirk. He waits a bit before enacting his revenge, which is him pulling you onto the couch into his lap and refusing to let you go as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

Horrortale:

Axe:

He stiffens up when you kiss him out of no where his thoughts short circuiting. He blushes a nice deep blue and simply watches you walk away his eyelight expanded to fill his socket. He stands there for a bit before continuing on with what he was doing. He'll probably forget it happened so it's easy to get him again and again and see his adorable reaction.

Willow:

He smiles at the kiss also doesn't really realize you're teasing him. "Thank You Dear I Love You" he calls out softly as he watches you walk away. He thinks about the kiss all day until he works up the courage to find you and kiss you back. He'll walk up shyly and try to figure out how he wants to do this as with his bad back he could bend over but it would hurt. So he picks you up underneath your armpits gently and presses a kiss to your lips softly. Then he sets you down turns a bright orange and makes a smooth escape.

[dragon-ascent]

More propeller Chonkli thoughts so...

Imagine giving your chonky little lover tons of affection: the usual smooching, snuggling, squishing, petting, and scritching. His tail naturally goes haywire, wagging without rest.

Except it gets faster and faster and before you know it, Chonkli's lifted himself off your lap and is hovering in the air. At first this makes you giggle, and you're cooing about how adorable and silly he is.

But this makes him even more excited, and weeeee! His propeller-tail goes brrrr and he's floating higher and higher. Now you're panicky.

"Eek!" You reach out to him, leaping and waving your arms in futility. "Come back, darling!"

But off he goes into the sky like a balloon mistakenly released, propelled by his tail. His tongue is out in a blissful blep as he journeys ever upward. Who knows, perhaps he may land on the moon.

[shotmrmiller]

I know I had already popped up earlier, but the last focus was about the PetAU, and it do be givin' me thoughts, though...

Just Mr Simon 'I'm never fuckin' jealous' 'Ghost' Riley finding a nice, pretty thing that he's been dating for a about, say.. a year and some months. He has Riley, sweet pup that he is, and he would have dropped you if Riley didn't like you. Thank the Gods that Riley found you acceptable, and you accepted the pooch back! Hurrah!

Yet.. a problem at the same time. Your attention was on the dog, telling the dog 'good boy', smooching the dogs face, giving the dog attention, attention, attention.. He wasn't fuckin' jealous.. So what is the reason why you come back home, having dropped Riley off at a few-day long doggy daycare at Simon's request, and find him on his knees, naked, wearing nothing but dog ears, a collar and- holy shit, was that a tail plug??

"Go on then, love. Tell me I'm a good boy."

this is so so tasty.

You've never mentioned it to Simon because you didn't want to scare him away with the fact that you liked to pet play, as both a pet and a handler.

But here he was, giving himself to you on a glistening silver platter, and there was no way you were going to pass this up.

He's your good boy, now— so you told him as such.

"You are just so precious." You crouched in front of his kneeled form and cupped his large face in your dainty hands. "Aren't you the most handsome pup ever? Hm?"

Simon's face flushes with the praise you shower him with— you can feel his skin warm under your touch— but you can't even control it now. The words spill from your mouth like water out of a faucet.

"Such a big, strong boy. You look like a wrestler, but I bet all the money in the world that you're a nuzzler. Just a soft, kind dog that wants love and attention, yeah?"

You're babbling at this point, but Simon is glowing under your admiration, and he looks so good on all fours. With a gentle, "Stay," you start to trail your fingers from his furry ears down— his spine arching under your touch and back muscles rippling under his skin— until you reach his thick tail.

"If this was real, I've no doubt it would be wagging, smacking me in the face. Isn't that right, handsome?"

Coiling the tip of his tail around two fingers, you give it a slight pull, and soothe him with a palm of your hand on his arsecheek when he hisses at the sensation.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know. You look so good in this; I simply couldn't resist. Now sit for me, pup."

Simon sits back on his folded legs, hands resting in between his thick thighs, and you chuckle when you notice his erection at full mast, tip slick as it leaks precum.

"Want me to help you with that?"

He only stares at you, half-lidded eyes dark, swirling with lust.

"Speak."

Simon barks once.

"Good boy, handsome."

He can't stop the whine that slithers out from behind his clenched teeth when you wrap your hand around his fat, heavy cock and give him a squeeze.

Shushing him, you give him a few painfully slow pumps— skin bunching up on the upstroke— and press your thumb lightly on his slit.

"Your knees may be padded, but mine aren't," you hinted.

Getting up with a slight groan, a rub to your achy knees, and with one scrape of your nails on his head, you command him.

"Heel."

As you make your way towards the bedroom, the sound of his collar tinkling with each movement he makes sends a jolt to your throbbing core— arousal already dampening your knickers.

Simon barking is sending me into a tizzy i don't think you understand

[thesirencult]

PAC READING : WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?

1---2

3---4

PILE 1

The Tower, The Fool

This is someone you would never expect to have feelings for you. You view them as distant, private an cold towards you and others. There is something magnetic to them and, at times, they let their cold façade go. Then, you get to experience a different side of them. They may have played with children in front of you or taken care of an elderly person, assisting them to cross the street. This person loves animals and has a soft spot for them. This reminds me of a strong, tall man who build a sanctuary for chihuahuas after his wife left him. Now he takes care of them and encourages other men to break the stereotype and adopt a smaller dog.

So, this person could also be tall and either lanky or lean-muscular. Others see them as intimidating and may try to avoid them in social situations (like coworkers not inviting them out for a drink after work).

I don't think they'll express themselves. They feel very ashamed of their feelings for you and believe that you see them as "not good enough". This has nothing to do with the way you treat them and has everything to do about their own perception of themselves.

They are very innocent at heart and get hurt when people exclude them. This tells me that you must have treated them like your "chihuahua". You are the one who encourages them and offers help or a few kind words. They love your kind and sweet nature but it's hard for them to show their true emotions. You will notice them get shy and anxious around you, like a little kid. Give them a chance by letting them get closer to you.

PILE 2

Judgement, The Magician, 5 Of Wands

This person is very fair and just. They will love every single inch of you and they won't shy away from telling you that. You see yourself as "not being good enough" and the person who has a crush on you will pick up on how you feel immediately. They will try to get you to see your beauty and will get sad when you talk bad about yourself. They just don't understand how someone as perfect and beautiful as you doesn't realise their own strength and beauty.

This person is a master manifestor. They just know how to alchemize energy and change their physical reality. They will see that you have this ability too and they will admire how you are trying to forge your own path. They have probably manifested you into their lives and they'll idolize you a lot.

If there is an age gap (5+), this person will try to hold back and act as a mentor towards you but, they are very competitive with others and possessive. Their feelings will shine through when they sense someone else trying to get with you. You'll notice their absurd behaviour, call them out and they will just kiss you.

"I'll show you why I'm acting this way." And then smooch 💋.

PILE 3

Queen Of Cups, 7 Of Pentacles, 5 Of Pentacles

Okey-dokey! My sweet Pile 3, if you are not into girls or feminines, I would advise you to choose another pile. Otherwise, if you choose to stay, this energy could resonate with your personal journey towards love and abundance.

I'm seeing a very sweet soul waiting for you. This energy is very light and free-flowing. You may not have met this person yet, because of divine timing. I'm getting that when you meet them it will be "love at first sight". You'll catch them doing something random, like picking up a dumbbell at the gym or petting a dog, or even voting (?).

This "exchange" from afar will drive you crazy cause you will know nothing about this person and you'll think you will never see them again. I see that fate has other plans for you.

This feminine is your future spouse and she is very into personal development at the moment. They will be preoccupied with finances and they are trying to clear up "abundance blocks".

At first, they will seem reserved and preoccupied with other things. You'll exchange a few looks and sparks will be flying, so this is a case of a reciprocated crush.

They are quite happy with being by themselves and working on their coins and foundations for their future. I bet you'll hear them talk about that and you'll think "Baby don't worry, I'm your future 💋."

Slowly you'll start talking and I hope you make the next step otherwise they'll never ever let you in.

But, after you get closer to them, you'll realize that they are a very deep and wise person and not just sunny all the time. Actually you'll think of them as darker and lunar. You will love their passion and mysterious disposition. Be their fearless protector and their rock to climb up to and watch the sunrise.

PILE 4

The Hierophant, 9 Of Cups, Queen Of Pentacles

Right now you are going through a "level up" phase. I don't even know why you are waisting your time here. Lol. You are quite independent, fierce and unstoppable. You are also trying to manifest someone like you.

The person who will soon come towards and confess their crush on you is not someone overly "hard". They are quite dreamy and soft. They like ice-cream and long walks. They will take you on romantic dates and worry that you don't like the scenery because you are not talking that much.

This person sees you as a boos b*tch. They admire you and have put you in a pedestal. I'm hearing "Let me service you Queen.". They like "ice-cream" ! Oh my! This person really wants you and they would jump through hoops to get to you.

They'll pass all your tests with flying colours and you will keep wondering how they are such a good match for you. Let them feel like you are in control and they'll submit to you.

[hanalulugguk]

Choso headcannons #2

the reaction to my last choso drabble was instantaneous, super pleased a lot of u liked it. here's another, steamier, version. not sure if there will be a third, i don't like to force anything out, but if u have something in mind lmk, it could spurr something on me <3

Warnings: heavy petting/ grinding

Thinking of newly human choso

Newly human choso who doesn't like his morning coffee bitter, so he asks you to pretty please add condensed milk into his since you think 3 spoonfuls of sugar is too risky.

Newly human choso who likes the calmness of mornings with you, he may not be a morning person but he always gets up with you. spending his morning in harmony with you, handing each other the toothpaste and taking turns drying your face after washing it and sharing skincare.

Newly human choso who helps you brush your hair in the morning, returning your detangling his hair after his nightly endeavors, fighting his imaginary demons in his sleep, since he doesn't tie his hair before bed. yet he always has good healthy hair *sigh* men.

Newly human choso who enjoys when you massage his neck and shoulders as he lays his head on your lap, face smooched against your thighs.

Newly human choso who peppers kisses onto your exposed thighs whilst you read.

Newly human choso who doesn't understand the concept of personal belongings. using your stuff and forcing you to use his whenever the opportunity presents itself. always laying out his shirts and shorts for you to wear after a shower. thank the lord that, even though he doesn't agree, he lays out your own underwear for you instead of his after you scolded him last time.

Newly human choso who takes everything too literal, not understanding sarcasm enough to keep up with you. you asked him to stop running his fingers through your hair as you try to get work done because it's distracting you, he just thought you'd like it as much as he does. but then you turn to him with a pout and furrowed brows as you ask him to continue.

Newly human choso who presses kisses to your neck as you two lay in bed late at night, his kisses growing more sensual each time.

Newly human choso who sighs into your neck as you scratch his head, face still pressed into your neck, growing more vocal and frugal in his ministrations the more time passes.

Newly human choso who grinds lightly against your thigh, wrapping his legs around your own, his arms tightening around you, letting out a strained 'more' for you to trail your fingers to his nape as you press a kiss to his temple.

Newly human choso who finds himself freezing in his spot whenever feverish kisses and roaming hands become too much for him, overwhelming him beyond belief as he finds it difficult to voice how he feels.

Newly human choso who grabs your wrists in both of his, removing your hands of his back as he rests his head on your shoulders, willing his breathing to slow down, your hands tightly grasped in his with his eyes tightly shut.

Newly human choso who's so so easy to read. by the third time he's pressed your chest to his to strain your movements as you're propped up on his lap once a particularly heated make out session becomes too much for him, so you try to ease him into it.

Newly human choso who leans back where he sat on the couch, as you roam your hands lightly on his exposed shoulders, his hair now damp and no longer dripping from his shower. your lip grazing his temple as his breathing slows, eyes closed enjoying your touch.

Newly human choso who loosens his grip around you, lost in the way your fingers trail over his arms, nails gliding from his wrists to his shoulder blades. allowing you leverage to lean into his neck, pressing featherlight kisses to his skin. trailing from below his ear to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. leaning his head back to expose more of his neck for you.

Newly human choso who's surprised at the groan that manages to escape him at the initial grind of your hips against his. your kisses continuing, lips occasionally suctioning at a spot on his neck.

Newly human choso who tries to stop you again once it gets too much for him. grabbing your hip with his dominant hand to try and stop your movements but you wrap your fingers between his, keeping your intertwined hands between the two of you as you maintain a slow back and forth, pressing into him enough to pull a moan out of him.

Newly human choso who lifts his head up, burrows furrowed as he looks down at where you remain pressing your lips to his neck, 'wha-' he's cut off by another moan as you press down a little harder against the growing bulge in his shorts. 'shh... does it feel good?' you ask trailing kisses to the shell of his ear.

Newly human choso who's breathing has grown heavier, giving you a very confused 'yes', 'it's alright, hmm?' and it's the reassurance he needs to not stop you anymore.

Newly human choso who lets you continue grinding down against him, pace increasing as does his breathing and the desperate whimpers he lets out. not knowing that you're keeping quiet to hear him, lost in the feeling.

Newly human choso who doesn't register that he's pushing his hips up in need to press up against you. gripping your thigh with his free hand, overwhelmed, not knowing whether to enjoy the feeling of your lips against his skin, unwavering, or the way you're rubbing against each other.

Newly human choso who whines as your teeth graze his sensitive neck whilst he cums for the first time. his first orgasm reeling him to where he doesn't register the death grip he has on your thigh as he presses his face into the side of your head. his breath hitching in his throat as you grind your hips against his one last time, pressing one last kiss to his neck.

Newly human choso who comes down from his high with your fingers treading through his mostly dried locks, his face pressed into your neck as he inhales your scent.

Newly human choso who sees the red imprint his grip on your thigh has caused, apologizing profusely as you reassure him that you aren't bothered by it.

Newly human choso who, regardless of your dismissiveness to his worries, lays you down as he lay between your legs, pressing gentle kisses to the red mark he caused.

don't ask me what colour anything was. might write choso eating 🐱 for the first time, but might delve into other characters first though. lmk if you have anyone in mind you'd like me to write for (don't ask for mahito or i will block u)

taglist (open/ send an ask to be added)

if u enjoyed this, consider liking/reblogging to support <3

divider credits @fairytopea

[officialdaydreamer00]

Oh requests!

May I request tweels who are utterly whipped for their s/o? Just utter simps, someone save them. I've always felt like the Leech family would have Addams family vibes, and these two would be a pair of Gomez'

Remember take it easy and don't burn out! ❤

QUINN PLEASE THIS IS AN AMAZING HC I LOVE IT

reader is not yuu, reader is gender neutral

the passionate simp.

my personal favourite headcanon being merpeople only pick one significant other in their life. seems like you're the lucky one to be chosen by him.

will bite you out of love, most likely targets your neck or your arms, sometimes your shoulders.

isn't afraid of PDA, will kiss you in front of a crowd if he can. but he's willing to wait until you are alone.

LOVES cuddles. he likes seeing you so warm and snuggly in his arms, the perfect time to attack you with smoochies.

NOSE NUZZLES. intimate, he loves it, even more so when he gets to see your reddened face.

the ultimate bodyguard. always count on floyd to have his arm on you all the time. he ain't gonna have you stolen from him that easily.

heart eyes and dopey grins, he's whipped.

the absolute simp.

man's gomez addams reincarnated and no one can tell me otherwise.

handsome, gentlemanly, passionate, loyal, completely fucking unhinged. HE'S AN ENTIRE PACKAGE, HONEY.

when he falls for you, darling, he falls hard. you're not gonna get him out of the hole he dug for you.

will kiss you every time he sees you, even if he just saw you like 10 minutes ago, he's just gonna go "oh well" and smooches you anyways.

"Look at them. I will die for them. I will kill for them. Either way, what bliss."

PET NAMES. OH MY GODS. he will call you all sorts of nicknames, either good old-fashioned or oddly cute, for he intends to fluster you until you short circuit.

heart eyes stares and silly smiles, he's so smitten man.

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @siren-serenity @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb @moonlit-midnight @hisui-dreamer @xen-blank @taruruchi @cheezy-moon @minimallyminnie @axvwriter @krenenbaker @cave-of-jade @mermaidfanficlibrary @cookiesandbiscuits @jaylleoo14

reblogs are very appreciated!!

[thirstyforlulu]

alucard hiding the children in his hair or coat!!!!!!! and the children turning into little bats!!!!!!!💘💞

Alucard would do that way too often

When the kids are little, they can’t handle being out in the sun like he can, so he has them either hide in his hair or coat when they need to go out

As they get older, they get to were they can tolerate it, and it makes Alucard sad that they don’t need him any more

His hair can be almost sentient at times so he can pet his children even while they’re curled up

He is so careful when they’re in his hair or coat

He protects them

If he has the kids, he may even flee from a battle to make sure they aren’t injured on accident

But as soon as the kids are in a safe place it’s game on

If you’re a vampire too, the invitation is open to you as well

You can join the babies in his hair and snuggle up

He may pull you out frequently though and give you some tiny smooches

[misc-obeyme]

the brothers have mysteriously turned into cats and the only cure is a true love's kiss from our dear MC! how would that go??

Oh anon, I may have gotten carried away with this one...

I looooooved this request! I'm totally a cat person, so it was fun to imagine how the boys would be as cats. I really enjoyed writing this, so it did end up kind of long! I will absolutely do the side characters if requested, too. :)

Thank you for the request!

Brothers turn into cats and need a true love's kiss from GN!MC.

Warnings: None! This is all pretty fluffy... in multiple ways loooool

Lucifer

You go into his office to talk to him about something and at first you think the room is empty. But then you see the tip of a fluffy black tail over the top of his desk. You walk around it to find him sitting there - the floofiest black cat you've ever seen. You recognize him from his ruby red eyes and the unamused expression. Even in cat form, his displeasure is evident. Someone is going to be answering for this later.

He will allow you to pick him up, but if anyone else tries it, he will bite and hiss at them. He will make an exception for Diavolo and, to everyone's surprise, Simeon. Everybody else only wishes they could get close enough to touch that luxurious shiny black fur. Doesn't want to leave your lap. Doesn't meow, doesn't purr, only sits quietly with an ominous aura.

You have to figure out how this even happened to begin with before you can fix it. Turns out it was the result of a curse as implemented by the Anti-Lucifer League. It takes some cajoling, but eventually Satan and Belphie tell you where they found the curse. They don't actually know how to break it, but you do a little research of your own and end up finding what you need.

Take him into his office so you can be alone with him. His pride will suffer horribly if you break the curse in front of everyone. You tell him what you're doing before you press your lips to the soft spot between his ears. Instantly returns to his usual form, wrapping his arms around you as he does. True love's kiss, was it, MC? You had better kiss him properly now that he's back to normal.

Mammon

You wake up to find a purring cat curled up on your chest in a little ball, fast asleep. He's pure white and absolutely adorable. You prod him awake and he lifts his head, opening his eyes to look at you. And that's when you know it's Mammon. You can't mistake those bright blue and gold eyes. He blinks at you in confusion before letting out a yowl.

Okay, okay, you have to calm him down! He's freaking out as he was obviously not expecting to wake up as a little cat this morning. His loud meowing summons everyone in the house. He scrambles away from them, perching himself on your shoulder. Won't budge from this spot, meowing softly into your ear the whole time. Starts purring if you pet him, but in a grudging sort of way.

You find a broken potion bottle on the floor in the foyer. You find out later that he won it off of someone in a card game, but dropped it in the dark when he was sneaking back into the house and got it all over himself. With a little help from Solomon, you figure out how to reverse the potion's effect.

He's been hiding under your bed while you were trying to figure out what happened. You coax him out, pick him up, and give his furry little cheek a smooch. When he's himself again, he's so happy and grateful, he flings his arms around you and presses you to his chest. The Great Mammon is back! How'd ya do that, MC? The minute you tell him it needed true love's kiss, he blushes profusely, but he's too happy to let you go.

Leviathan

You head to Levi’s room, prepared to play some video games, but the demon isn't there. You do find a cat with purplish black fur staring with fascination at Henry’s tank. He isn’t pawing at it, just watching with his orange eyes as the fish swims back and forth. At first you don’t recognize him, but then you see he’s sitting inside the ring of his signature headphones. There’s no question that this is Levi.

Meows loudly at you when he realizes you’re there. If you try to take him out of the room, he will squirm out of your arms and hide in his tub. Won’t leave the tub unless you’re the only one there. If any of his brothers come into the room, he’ll hiss at them from inside the tub. You’ll have to shoo everyone away to finally get him to come out. Will allow you to pet him for a bit. Buts his little head into your hand and purrs.

Jumps up onto his desk and paws at a video game case urgently. When you just look at him in confusion, he knocks the case off the desk. You finally get the hint and pick it up. Turns out this is a cursed video game. Starting it up was what turned Levi into a cat to begin with. You’ll have to play the game to figure out what you need to do to save him.

When you finally win the game and the credits start to roll, you find out that true love’s kiss is the only thing that will turn him back to normal. He meows lowly and plaintively. He clearly thinks he’s doomed to stay a cat forever. Press a sweet little kiss to his pink nose and watch him change back. Takes him a minute to realize what happened. Starts blushing like crazy. You saved him, MC! He never doubted you, of course! Please give him a hug, he is very distressed from this experience.

Satan

You’re in the library looking for Satan when you see a cat sitting on a book, tail swishing in irritation. The cat has short blonde fur and when he turns to look at you, bright green eyes. You sigh. If Lucifer finds out that Satan tried to bring home a stray, there will likely be a fight about it. You pick the cat up and it instantly starts purring, settling contentedly in your arms. You look at the book he was sitting on and that’s when it clicks.

You don’t have to search for what happened - this book is clearly the culprit. However, the book does not inform you about what you have to do to change him back. So you take the book and find Solomon because he’s the only one who will probably be able to help that Satan won’t hiss or scratch at. Even then, he only tolerates the sorcerer. Anyone who gets too close gets bitten except for you. You have to spend all your time holding and petting him to keep him distracted.

Terrorizes everyone. Let him go for two seconds and he’s knocking over everything, meowing loudly, and zooming around the room. If he’s anywhere near Lucifer, he will deliberately roll around on him just to get his black clothes full of light cat hair. Will roll over like he wants belly rubs then bite anyone who actually tries to pet him.

Finally you find out that it’s true love’s kiss that can save him. The second you hear it, you grab him and cover his fuzzy face with little kisses. He returns to normal while you’re doing this. Once you stop, he looks at you with wistful eyes. He’s certainly grateful to you for restoring him to normal, MC. But what an amazing experience to be in the form of a cat! He’s actually a little sad that he’s no longer a cat, so you’ll have to cheer him up.

Asmodeus

You’re relaxing in your own room when you are accosted by a fluffy pink ball of fur. There’s a cat now purring and kneading at your belly. He looks absolutely thrilled to be there. You look a little closer and see that somehow he has painted claws. The pink and green combo tip you off to the fact that this cat is actually Asmo. He’s got amazing long pink fur and the cutest little kitty face you could have ever imagined. You can’t help but start baby talking at him about how cute he is. He clearly loves the attention, purring happily and butting his head into your hand.

He’s precious and he knows it. Will absolutely rub himself all over everyone’s legs. Will jump into any lap that presents itself. Continual purring. Wants love and attention from everyone. Rolls over for belly rubs and actually allows his belly to be rubbed. When he’s not demanding everyone’s attention, he’s cleaning his fur carefully. Meticulous about where he goes - refuses to go outside at all. Will meow sadly if you even suggest it. You know he’s afraid he’s going to get his beautiful fur dirty out there.

You have to do a little detective work to figure out what happened. You’re searching Asmo’s room and bathroom for some sign of how he ended up this way, but you find nothing. At some point, Mammon notices that beneath all that thick fur, Asmo is wearing a really fancy collar. It looks more like a necklace… a cursed necklace. Of course. Now you have to do some research to figure out how to break the curse. You recruit all of the brothers to help you. It takes some time but in the end you figure it out together

The instant he hears that it’s true love’s kiss that will save him, Asmo jumps into your lap and looks up at you expectantly. You take a picture of him first just because he’s so cute as a cat. Then you kiss the top of his head. He turns back into his normal self, still sitting on your lap. He drapes his arms on your shoulders and leans in close, a sweet smile on his face. Oh, MC, he’s so overjoyed that your kiss broke the curse! He’s so happy, he just can’t stop himself from kissing you again. And again. And again.

Beelzebub

You hear a clatter in the kitchen, so you go to investigate. There you find a huge orange cat in the pantry surrounded by half open cans of something called broiled deathfish. It’s clear from the way the cans look that this cat cut them open with his claws. You’re in shock for a moment until you take in the purple-pink eyes and what is clearly Beel’s necklace. He looks up at you with fish bits on his whiskers.

You think about picking him up, but you can’t lift him for long. So instead you shoo him out of the kitchen. He just does whatever you tell him to for the most part. But if he even sees food of any kind, he’ll do whatever it takes to get to it. You’re constantly trying to get him off of tables and counters. He gets away with a lot though because he’s so cute. He’s an absolute unit and it’s adorable. Will let anyone pet him. Purrs happily. Gets the need to zoom around rather frequently before starting to look for food again.

You find the source of this problem fast. It’s written all over one of the empty cans of deathfish. Literally. The can explicitly states that anyone who eats it will be turned into a cat. Apparently it was for some kind of promotion that was meant to be temporary, but it didn’t work as intended. Fortunately, the company issued a statement about it, explaining the solution for this exact scenario.

You have to get down on the floor to kiss him properly. He turns back to normal, sitting cross legged in front of you. Reaches out and pulls you into his lap so he can hug you. Thank you, MC. You took such good care of him while he was a cat. And you saved him with true love’s kiss. It means so much to him, he just wants to hold you for a bit. Until his stomach growls again. Make sure you get rid of any remaining problematic deathfish cans.

Belphegor

Nobody has seen Belphie all day so you go looking for him. You don’t find him, but you do find a little black and white cat fast asleep in the laundry pile. You’re confused at first. You know about the no cats rule that Lucifer has in place. You pick up the cat who wakes up enough to look at you sleepily. The way his fur flops into one of his purple and pink eyes and the half asleep expression causes you to realize that you have found Belphie after all.

The most complacent of cats. Snoozing all the time. Will purr if you pet him, even if he's sleeping. Will make little half mewling noises in his sleep while his little paws twitch. Will let anyone pick him up. Doesn't fight, but doesn't cuddle, either. Just flops around like he's completely boneless. Prefers to be near you, though and will protest if anyone tries to take him into a different room from you. And if anyone tries to actively keep him awake, he will get annoyed enough to scratch at them.

You have no idea how this happened. Can't figure out how he turned into a cat for the life of you. You search all over the house in an attempt to figure it out, but nothing presents itself. You'll find out later that Belphie also has no idea what happened. He probably got into something cursed while he was asleep. It will forever remain a mystery. So you simply set about trying all the well known counter curses.

You're sitting on his bed when you finally kiss his little paws and he turns back into himself, half draped across you and blinking a little. He's still partly asleep. What happened, MC? He was having such a weird dream. You explain everything and tell him about true love's kiss being the thing that brought him back to normal. He snuggles into your shoulder. He didn't really care too much about being a cat, since he was asleep most of the time anyway. But he's happy that you saved him. Kisses your cheek before starting to fall asleep again.

masterlist | part 2 with the side characters | Thank you for reading!

[dollyxd]

Hihi!! Saw you right for my favorite drunk cat so id thought I should send a request your way!

Husk x Reader (established romantic relationship) where reader is super clingy and affectionate with husk :3 add whatever you like, just want it to be super cute n fluffy ^_^

HUSK X CLINGY!READER

HEADCANNONS

A/N; We love the drunk cat. I'd be more than happy to write about him!

Romantic or platonic: Romantic

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, alcohol, fluff, even more fluff... did I mention fluff? Established reactionship

Word count: 280

One shot or headcannons: headcannons

Now, this man is touched starved, and he hasn't really noticed it (or if he did, he didn't really care)

Now, when you come along and start touching him (patting him on the shoulder, grabbing his hand, hugging him, trying to pet his ears and fur), but ones you guys are together, oh boy, that's when he starts actually caring.

At first, he was very, ehh... about it, but once you guys were together, oh boy, he looked FORWARD TO IT!

Now he's not the one to do all the sappy, clingy stuff back all the time, but he still does it on occasion!(rarely)

The most physical touch he would give back is hand holding and a hand around your should or waist, and ofc smooching ya.

If you're the one to cuddle a lot, you guys will only have to do that in private! If someone saw him being all vulnerable, he would never hear the end of it.

He will also most definitely let you hide behind him when you're scared. You may not realize it at first, but he spreads his wings a little bit wider to protect/hide you.

He would also allow you behind the bar along side with him! And if you're the kind to be quiet and don't want to socialize, he will make a spot for you behind the bar to where you can hide away, but still be with him.

If you two are ever alone inside one of your guy's rooms, and you pet/scratch behind his ears? He is over the MOON. Just don't say anything whenever you hear him start the purr ;)

"Cant keep your hands off me, can ya, doll?"

[merakiui]

[viii.] ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳᵉᵈ

serial killer!jade leech x female!reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, descriptions of murder/death, violence, strangulation chapter vii│chapter viii (you are here)│chapter ix

Today’s Thought - As biology would have it, the moray eel is cowardly by nature. Somehow this facet doesn’t apply to a certain someone. What he lacks in cowardice, he makes up for in cruelty.

The three days that follow the first feel like a blurred eternity, and you only know it’s been three because Jade’s explained your daily horoscope thrice now. The first: Do your best and your days will be fortuitous. You’re walking the path to success. The second: You may feel gloomy with the shifting skies. Rainfall may evoke sadness, but the secrets you hide from that important someone will seem even sadder. And the third (today’s prediction): There’s a chance you might find luck in uncertain situations.

These horoscopes might have provided you with a shred of relief if it weren’t for the fact that your slumber has been mostly dreamless ever since that last obscure nightmare, and so you don’t have anything to compare them to. No jellyfish. No strangers sitting at dinner tables. No blue hues for you to contemplate.

You’ve read through A Hiker’s Guide twice in the span of forty-eight hours, committing fungi facts to memory as if they’ll serve any purpose while you remain shackled in captivity. But it keeps you occupied and smothers any morbid thoughts threatening to spill into your skull. Which is what you really need right now—the sweet sense of comfort and contentment.

Jade upheld his end of your bargain yesterday when he poked his head inside the bathroom, presenting the white suit coat Azul had worn the night he faux-proposed. You kept your complaints to yourself, silently scorning him while he draped it across your shoulders. It’s an expensive brand sewn from luxurious fabrics you’d never be able to afford no matter how many extra shifts you pick up at The Devil’s Delight.

Out of habit, you’re attempting to calculate how many times you’d need to sleep with Azul in hopes of convincing him to buy you an outfit of equal grandeur. Your logic tells you multiple times for every pretty button and precise stitch, but your heart tells you it would only take a simple question and a sincere smooch to string him along. He opens his wallet for you as easily as you open your legs for him. 

But that’s just part of the agreement, you remind yourself, petting the silky sleeve like it’s a cat. Stop thinking about him. Focus on other things.

You lift your gaze towards the door.

I wonder what Riddle’s up to. We were supposed to meet up on Saturday. He’s probably angry I couldn’t make it. Or maybe he’s worried I’m not showing up to work. Shaking your head, you scoff bitterly. No, he’s not worried. He’s Riddle. He never worries about distractions like me. He has everything laid out so perfectly. You toy with one of the exquisite cuffs on the jacket, twisting it between your fingers. I guess when you’re that meticulous you never have to worry about anything because, no matter what happens, you’re following a familiar schedule. So even if things don’t go to plan, you can just move to the next item on your list.

You slouch against the wall and sigh.

Maybe it’s better to live repetitive days. It’s boring, but it’s safe.

Before you can start weighing the positives and negatives to that thought, a noise from below resounds. You scramble away from the sink, mindful of your bandaged ankle, and force yourself flat like a pancake, your ear pressed against the tiles. The air is still, your breath is hitched, and then there are footsteps. Four in total. You assume he’s taking off his shoes because there’s a disconcerting quiet that follows. Seconds later, you strain to hear the door as it shuts and locks with a click. 

And then there is more silence. 

Something’s not right, you think, chewing your lip. Anxiety bubbles in your blood, volcanically volatile. He’s not coming upstairs.

You push yourself up onto your arms and retreat to the space between the bathtub and sink.

He always comes upstairs to check on me when he gets home. Right away. So why isn’t he? What’s going on? You shake your head and dig your nails into your arms. Don’t panic. Maybe he’s preparing another meal? But he usually eats before work. At least, that’s what he’s done with me ever since the first day. Maybe he didn’t have work. Maybe he went out to do something. But what? Cover his tracks? Kill someone? Make sure there are no witnesses from that night? Kill someone? Your grip on Azul’s jacket tightens. Relax. Take a breath and think about it logically. He can’t do anything rash. Not when he’s just kidnapped me. Someone must have made a missing report by now, so he has to be careful.

Your eyes slide about the room, inspecting the framed sketches once more. What if it’s the afternoon? He could make up any time he wants and I’d have no choice but to believe him. He could’ve gone out for lunch, or he met up with Azul for the daily walks we usually do. Right. Azul. He has to know something’s up. He has to… Wait.

The realization is glacial, stabbing through your skull mercilessly: He won’t suspect anything because disappearing like this is a routine he’s all too familiar with. In his eyes, I’m just—

Footsteps on the stairs shake you from your theorizing, and you brace yourself for the sight of him. You hope to shrink yourself to a size so small and imperceivable that no one, not even the most keen, cutthroat killer, could find you. You succeed in huddling in on yourself, a ball of tightened nerves just waiting to unfurl at the slightest hint of danger. Sweat beads on your brow and slithers down your spine. The hair on your body stands on end, as if expecting the swift strike of a terrifying tragedy.

Something’s not right.

The knob turns. There he stands in the sliver of space between door and bedroom, backdropped by dim lamplight. He’s dressed plainly in a black hoodie and sweatpants of the same color. It’s arguably the most casual you’ve ever seen him look. And in his arms, held bridal style and slumped like a boneless fish, is a woman. 

Your gaze is drawn to the way her shirt stretches tautly over her abdomen—over the rounded dome that is her stomach—and dread crystallizes your blood. Suppressing a shiver, you meet his stare. A smile slowly crawls onto his lips, and then he steps deeper into the bathroom, pulling the shower curtain aside and lowering the woman into the tub. Tape is plastered to her mouth, and her wrists and legs are bound with expert knots. Just looking at her and the state she’s in makes you sick with discomfort.

“Who… W-Who the hell is that?”

“A roommate,” he replies, all too smooth. “It’s only temporary, so you needn’t get so territorial.”

There’s no way. He’s actually planning to… 

Bile rises in your throat, and before you can stop yourself you’re leaning over the toilet to retch. Saliva dribbles down your chin, landing in the bowl below in a downpour of gross, acidic rain. A petrifying tremor shudders through your body, and you steady yourself against the toilet, coughing until tears gather in your vision and your throat aches. You smack your hand against the handle to flush the physical manifestations of your horror away. Down it goes, never to be seen again.

“Your little parasite doesn’t seem very fond of her,” Jade remarks, standing over you like a patient reaper of death. “There can only be room for one, no?”

You crane your neck to peer at him. “F-Fuck you.”

He smiles thinly, his eyes creasing with manufactured mirth. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Coincidence, my ass.” With a dark scowl, you wipe the spit from your mouth with a shaky hand. You drag yourself away from the toilet, tasting residual vomit on your tongue. “You can’t hurt her. She… She’s pregnant, Jade. There’s no way you can—”

“She isn’t you. If I recall, I only agreed to keep you alive.” Jade slips his gloves off, drapes them in the basin, and then lathers his hands with soap. His movements are mechanically meticulous, as if these motions have been preprogrammed. Even the way he dries his hands is unnatural. Too prim. Too perfect. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s nothing like you.”

“Why? Because she didn’t kick your ass when you showed up to kidnap her?”

Jade exhales an amused breath. “Of course not.” His eyes frost over when he turns his stare on you. “She never got the chance. Besides, if my ass had been sufficiently kicked, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I hope you choke on a fingerbone.”

“That would be most unfortunate. I’ll be sure to eat carefully.”

Peering at himself in the mirror, he smooths his hair down. You didn’t realize it was tousled to begin with. Now that you’re looking, his entire person seems…messy. Even that stray strand falls on the wrong side.

He definitely didn’t go to work, you conclude, studying his features from behind. He’s too casual. It’s hard to imagine Jade in anything other than uniforms. Did he go out with that lady? Maybe not. He seems like the type to dress nicely for dates. So a sweatshirt and sweatpants… They’re both easy to move around in, and he’s wearing dark colors to blend into the night. Did he grab her when she was least expecting it? He said she wasn’t given a chance to fight back, so a struggle was nonexistent. 

You shake your head, unsatisfied with your deduction. I’m missing something. His appearance is messy, but he’s always so clean. So why is he messy? This isn’t making sense.

“How’d you find her? You must’ve planned this in advance.”

“I assure you I’m not seeing other women behind your back.”

“Like hell I’m jealous, you creep.”

He chuckles and leans against the sink, his arms folding easily. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” “Magicians and murderers are two different things.”

“Aren’t they skilled in making things vanish? Both captivate their respective audiences as well.”

“Do you not see how vastly different the two are?” Groaning, you rest your head against the wall. “Did you seduce her?”

“Someone’s curious.”

“What’s her name? Do you even know where she’s from or what she’s been through? You’re taking an entire life away, Jade.”

“Two, actually.”

“That’s even worse! Do you hear yourself right now? You’re insane!”

“Has it ever occurred to you that your morals might not have any influence on what I do?”

He’s doing this on purpose. He could’ve brought anyone home, but it just had to be a pregnant lady.

“You’re sick.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“No sane, healthy person would do this.”

Jade feigns a sad pout and wipes nonexistent tears from his eyes. “To hear you say such things… My heart breaks.”

I hope someone chops you up, you lunatic! Then you can know what it’s like!

“So what’s the plan? She’s stuck here like me?”

“Not for long.”

“You’re really going to kill her?”

“Is that not obvious?”

You glance at the tub. I have to do something. But what? You look around the bathroom, eyeing the frames, the sink, the toilet, the walk-in shower, the tiled floor… Can I kill him? Shatter one of the pictures, grab the biggest shard of glass, and then—

Jade bends down to your height. “You needn’t look so pensive. There’s nothing you can do, and if you try anything I’ll be sure to slaughter you in the most gruesome way at the end of these nine months.” He smiles like it’s not the most sinister threat. “And I’ll watch you bleed out slowly while I cut your skin away in delicate slivers. So if you value a quick, painless death, do yourself a favor and keep your hands to yourself.”

You drag your legs into your chest. You sick freak. His eyes crawl down your face to observe your bandaged ankle. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“That should be enough of a reminder.”

“I’m not stupid. I’m not going to do anything. I can’t.”

I want to, though. I have to.

But there’s the shackle and the chain, restricting your movement and trapping you in the bathroom. There’s also the very heartless serial killer, who values your life as much as one does a meal. Voraciously. That’s as far as his sympathy extends. He doesn’t care about you or your nonexistent baby. You’re not even a person.

To him, you’re just supermarket meat plucked from the street. The most dangerous game he’s ever hunted.

“Good to know.” Pleased with your submission, he rises to his usual height and makes for the door. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Allow me to retrieve some painkillers.”

“If it puts me to sleep—”

“Rest assured. I have no intention of doing that. Too much and you may never wake again. That, and I’d prefer a meal without unnecessary baggage.”

“Then don’t drug me if you want fresh, healthy meat.”

He says nothing, merely smiling in reply, and departs through his bedroom. You listen to his retreating steps and then, after determining he’s made it downstairs, you drag yourself over to the tub. You yank the tarp-turned-curtain aside and peer down at her.

“Excuse me?” You reach in to nudge her arm. “Miss, are you awake? Please wake up.”

She doesn’t stir. Your gaze sweeps over her face. She doesn’t look bruised or battered. In fact, she’s in much nicer shape than you were when Jade took you.

It couldn’t have been a date or any sort of formal event. Not by chance either… So what is it? What am I not seeing?

You stare at her bump and frown. I’m pretending to be in her position, but she’s actually pregnant. If anyone deserves to get out of this alive, it’s her and her baby.

You shake that thought out of your head next, replacing it with something detached. You have to be logical. In tragic situations, it’s everyone for themself. What if your roles were swapped? Would she feel the same? You’d hope so, but maybe she’d be just like you—someone who’d do anything to survive, even if that was at the cost of another’s sacrifice. It’s not fair, but there’s nothing you can do. She’s doomed.

“Fuck,” you mutter, curling your fingers around the lip of the tub.

I can’t watch an innocent woman die. I have to do something.

Footsteps draw near. You scramble to your corner. Jade returns with two tablets and a glass of water. You down the painkillers in one gulp.

If it knocks me out, at least I won’t have to see anything.

You rest your forehead against your knees. “I wish Azul was here.”

Why am I saying that? Do I really want him here? Maybe Cater would be better. Or Riddle. Anyone but Azul.

“My apologies. The withdrawal must make you feel immensely itchy.” He peers at the tub. You realize you forgot to pull the tarp back to its original place. “Consider this the beginning of your detox.”

“You’re selfish, you know that? I have my entire life ahead of me. I have—” you rub the cold sapphire set into the ring on your finger— “I had a wedding to look forward to. Someone I was going to marry. A baby! And you…” Before you can stop yourself, the tears are falling. Weeks of pent-up emotions overflow. You wipe hopelessly at your face, feeling pathetic for crying in front of him when he could care less, but the rivers continue running. “Y-You fucking took that away from me! And I can’t—it’s all so you can feed yourself.”

You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and weep like a child. The voice in your head soothes you: You have time. You can still get out of this.

When you pull your arms away, you find Jade gazing at you. “If I’m as selfish as you say, what does that make you?” He pulls his sweatshirt up and over his head, and then you see it. The dress shirt.

A pit opens in your stomach. You feel sickness scraping at your throat again, and the sensation persists when he shucks his sweats next.

All this time, he was in formal attire…

“I have no interest in your affair with Azul. Rather, I find the entire thing quite circular. You were loosely attached once, but now you’re engaged. And then what? Are you going to run away when he does something unfavorable? You have the makings of a most atrocious bride.” Casually, as if this is a conversation held over afternoon tea, Jade folds the clothes and sets them on the towel rack. “I suppose that is just the nature of love. You return like the leashed pet you are and you let him love you because you are just as foolishly fond.”

That’s not true. You’re wrong. I don’t love him. I’ve never loved him.

“Ah, but this is just mere speculation based on what I’ve witnessed.”

“Stalker.”

“Not quite. Do you know how many times I’ve helped you—drunk, dazed, vulnerable you—and you never thought otherwise? I put you to bed. I did your laundry. I stayed by your side and cooked breakfast in the wake of your hangover. For so many years, I’ve beheld the (Name) who thinks she’s loved by all because she doesn’t love herself enough.” At your horrified expression, he laughs. “You like to babble when you’re inebriated. It’s very entertaining… What was it you told me a few months ago? That you’re a nothing human with an empty, ugly heart who isn’t worthy of Azul’s boundless generosity. That you pawn it for lust disguised as love because you can’t afford the real thing. That you—”

He sidesteps the glass you throw at him. It hits the floor and shatters with a splash. Glass shards slide across slick tiles. He watches you silently, his countenance unreadable.

“Shut up!” Odium darkens your face. You inhale a ragged breath, collecting what’s left of your tattered ego, and add in a shaky voice, “You don’t know me. You’ve never known me.”

“Perhaps not.” Jade leans down to smile at you. He’s close, but he doesn’t touch you. You challenge him with a mean scowl. “But I will soon.”

Before you can question that, a soft groan interrupts your discussion. Your head snaps over in the direction of the tub. Jade does much the same, only he moves slower. There’s a pregnant pause, tension crackling in the air, and then there’s movement. The woman struggles in the bath, her screams muffled against the tape. You wince, understanding her horror.

I know what that’s like.

Jade helps her sit up. She resists, shaking her head desperately and shrinking away from his hands as if they’re something monstrous. They are, technically. Her eyes meet yours then. Even though it’s a wordless exchange, everything you need to know shines on her tear-stained face. Her brows are pinched together in stressed disbelief. She’s trembling.

“If you promise to be quiet, I’ll remove the tape.”

Upon hearing that familiar phrase, you shudder. It seems to have the same effect on the woman. She looks at him and whimpers.

“P-Please listen to him,” you speak up, nodding encouragingly. “Don’t fight. It’ll make it worse.”

She spots your bandaged ankle and gazes at Jade with new terror shining in her brown eyes. They’re very pretty. Big and beautiful, almost like marbles. To think the last things she’ll ever see with such doll-like eyes are a hungry monster and a hapless captive.

Jade peels the tape off slowly and, unlike you, she keeps her mouth shut. A wise decision. You don’t want to think about what he might do to keep her quiet.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jade sets the sliver of tape aside. “Now then, I believe introductions are in order.”

“I… I don’t understand,” she whispers, pressing herself against a corner of the tub. “Why am I here? You told me you’d take me to a doctor. Y-You said you’d help me—”

“He’s a liar.” You fold your arms over your chest and huff. The woman’s expression falls. “It’s not your fault. I thought he was good, too.”

“So then—I’m just—why am I here? W-Why are you here?”

Jade steps in front of you to block your view of the distraught woman. “(Name) is my housemate—”

“Not by choice.”

“Still a housemate nonetheless,” he continues. “You’re here because I’m in need of a meal.”

“You’re…hungry? Is that… You’re serious? Is that really what this is about?” She shifts awkwardly in her restraints. You feel bad for her, even more so when you catch the hope bleeding into her voice. “Then, if that’s the case, I’ll cook something for you and you can let me go!”

Jade shakes his head.

You peer past his legs at her. “He’s going to kill and eat you.”

He frowns at you. “And I was intending to bask in the suspense…”

“You’re the worst. Genuinely.”

“I don’t understand… You’re…” She looks between you and Jade. Her eyes gloss over with fresh tears. “You’re going to kill me…”

“Indeed. Ah, but don’t look so disheartened. So long as you continue being good, I’ll grant you a painless death.”

“N-No way… I… I don’t wanna die. Please. M-My baby—I can’t—”

She breaks off with a choked sob. You watch her crumble without a word. It hurts to see her shoulders shake with every rattling inhale. It hurts even more knowing you’re just as stuck but temporarily spared. You glance at Jade to gauge his reaction. Like always, it’s impossible to read him. He’s always been like that, even before you found yourself trapped here. Smiling so sweetly, as if he isn’t a murderer, he would speak to you like a normal person, tease you like a friend, care for you when Azul couldn’t. You were so certain he was your friend—not just by way of association through Azul either.

He hid it—this massive, life-altering skeleton—like an expert. How did you miss it? What did you fail to catch?

Nothing. Because he never gave any indication of what was locked up behind unassuming closet doors.

Now you know better. So does this woman.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise I won’t, so please let me go. Please, sir. My baby…”

Jade remains unfazed. “(Name) already tried those lines. Care to guess how well they worked?”

Landed me nine months on death row. 

She hangs her head in defeat. “I can’t believe it… I’m actually… This is it.”

You rest your head against the wall and sigh. Jade stares a moment longer before striding to the door.

“I’ll give you time to get acquainted.”

With that, he shuts the door. It’s very obviously a test. He’s probably waiting on the other side, listening in to learn what sort of incriminating information you might share. Not that it matters if she hears it. She’ll take all of this new knowledge to the grave or, in more literal terms, Jade’s stomach.

“I’m sorry you’re caught up in this,” you murmur, tracing invisible circles into the floor. “What’s your name?”

“M-Marisa.”

You glance at her. “It’s beautiful just like you.”

“Oh. Well, t-thank you.” She offers you a shy smile. “My mother named me after the sea. It was her favorite place to visit whenever she needed inspiration. She was an artist, and the sea was her biggest muse.”

“That’s sweet. I wish I knew the lore behind my name.”

“It’s still pretty without the backstory.”

“I guess so.”

I never really put much thought into my name. Does it matter if it’s pretty or ugly?

“Actually… It’s kinda ironic. I don’t like the sea. It scares me, so I stay away from it.”

“The sea itself or what’s in it?”

“Both?” She attempts an awkward shrug. “There are scarier things out there, but there’s something unsettling about the ocean. Maybe I’m silly for thinking that.”

“You’re not. It’s normal to be scared of things we don’t understand.” Like right now. But you keep that part to yourself. “I can’t relate. I love the sea. The lost history, the creatures, the mysteries… It’s all so fascinating.”

“Really? You’re braver than I am!”

“I’m just way too passionate. That’s all.”

Am I? I said I’d be a marine biologist and that’s what I’ve been studying all this time. But…

Marisa sighs. “You’re lucky. I’ve always wanted to find something I could be passionate about.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something one day.” And then you pause. “Or… Um.”

She pastes another hollow smile on her face. “I thought I could be passionate about school, but I couldn’t do it. I dropped out and tried a few jobs. Everyone told me it’d be easier to get married instead of running around like a headless chicken, but that didn’t feel right. I thought I’d be passionate about things like motherhood and babies, but I dunno. I’m already so far along, but I haven’t felt anything yet. No excitement or anxiety. Just emptiness. And I know that’s a terrible thing to feel and think—we’re supposed to love the things we create! I don’t even think I truly love my boyfriend. I’m horrible—I know!”

“You’re not horrible. The truth is—” You stop yourself before the words can slip out. I don’t love Azul. I’m not even pregnant. “I don’t know if you’ll ever figure any of that out, but I know you’re a good person. You obviously care about these things. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so worried.”

Marisa sniffles. “Thanks…”

“I can help you find your passion. There’s so much to do in the city. I’m sure something will catch your interest. Oh! Have you ever been to Siren’s Heartache? It’s a karaoke place. My friend and I used to go all the time.”

“I’ve been there once!”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? My friend would order the craziest stuff off their menu. He hates sweets, but he’d get all kinds of sugary drinks and snacks for the hell of it. Said it didn’t matter because it’d look cute on camera, so no one needed to know if he enjoyed it.”

“He did it for the pictures? That’s it?”

“Yep! He loves photography. He’ll do anything to make sure he gets the best angles and lighting.”

“Wow… I don’t think I could be that dedicated.”

“No? Then what about schedules? My other friend used to be on these super rigid schedules. I’m sure he’s still on them now, but back then it was really suffocating. He’s always been so organized, though. It’s impressive.”

“Isn’t that too restrictive? Doesn’t he have any time for fun?”

“Would that be better? A free life filled with ups and downs or a rigid life you can plan around?”

“Both sound just as bad.”

“Isn’t that just life?”

She breathes a sardonic laugh. “From a pessimist’s perspective, sure.”

“What kind of life would you want?”

“Is it bad to say I want something easy?”

“No fair. You totally stole my answer!”

“Then maybe we’re both bad.”

“Yeah…” You stretch your legs out and flex your toes on your good foot. If that’s bad, then I’m the worst. “I guess we are.”

She giggles. “You’re supposed to disagree!”

“Oh, oops. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I don’t think it’s so bad to want an easy life. If it were up to me, I’d want it to be like one giant tea party. That way everyone can come together for tea and tiny cakes.”

“And you wouldn’t have to work, so who cares if you’re rich or poor!”

“Exactly! There aren’t any expectations. You can be good or bad. Empty like me or passionate like you. It’s all just conversation at the end of the day.” She gazes at you, and her features relax into a real smile. “I wish we could’ve met sooner. You seem like a fun friend.”

Am I really? I feel like I’ve been nothing but trouble for Riddle and Azul. Even Cater…

You hum your acknowledgement before nodding towards her belly. “Have you thought of any names?”

“Nothing yet. I’m not very creative and I don’t want anything basic either. Something memorable would suffice.”

“Like your name.”

“Right! Only nothing connected to the sea.” Marisa chuckles sheepishly. “It wouldn’t mean anything to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything significant. As long as it comes from the heart and you like it, it should be fine. At least, I think that’s how it works.”

“I have no idea. This is my first time.”

You nod. Somehow it feels like I’m indirectly lying to her…

“You’ll find a name that sticks one day. When you do, let’s get together and celebrate.”

“At the Siren’s Heartache?”

“Wherever you’d like.”

She gasps. “How about a tearoom? There’s this really cute one just outside the city. I go there all the time. The owners are the nicest people I’ve ever met! If we go, we can have our own tea party. You can bring your friend who likes photography. I’m sure he’ll get lots of pretty pictures.”

That’s impossible. We both know there’s no chance of—

“Marisa!” She startles at the urgency in your tone. You look and sound as if you’ve just cracked a cold case. “That’s it!”

“What is?”

“Your passion! Tea parties!”

“I always thought that was more of a hobby…”

“You can be passionate about hobbies. I’ve never gone to a tea party myself and I don’t know what that involves aside from drinking tea and eating snacks, but it sounds like a good time.”

“Oh, it’s the best time! I love dressing up for it, too. On nights when I knew I’d be going the next day, I arranged my outfit in advance. What jewelry I’d wear, what makeup I’d put on, what purse I’d bring… I could spend hours trying on my clothes and picking different pieces. And their afternoon tea sets—they’re everything! You have to try it if you go! I love their egg sandwiches. Well, everything they serve is delicious.”

Your lips quirk up in a playful grin. “See? You’re not empty.”

Stunned, Marisa sits there in the bath. “You’re right,” she mumbles. “I never realized it, but I love tea parties. I love talking with people over food and drinks. I guess it came so easy to me and I did it so often that I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Maybe we can add ‘socialization’ to the list of passions?”

She laughs, her hair bouncing with the movement. It comes right from her chest—authentic amusement—and it’s a musical sound. You wish there was another way. Jade may have shown you mercy, but you’re certain it won’t be the same for her. Even with these unlucky odds, you’re determined to try. It’s the only thing you can do. Try and hope that something goes well.

You gesture for Marisa to turn around. She almost questions you, but you hold your index up to shush her. She stares at you, her lips pressed in a tight line, and nods her understanding. As quietly as she can, she shuffles in the tub until her back is facing you. 

“Hey, what’s this tearoom called again?” you ask as you reach for the biggest glass shard.

“It’s called Portobello.”

“Like the mushroom?”

“Mhm! It’s forest-themed. They’re famous for their chaga tea.”

“Huh…”

Of course it’s mushrooms. You glance at the door. Do you hear that, you freak? Sounds like the perfect place for a mushroom fanatic like yourself.

“Do you like mushrooms?”

“They’re okay. I don’t eat them often. I have so many other foods I prefer…” You trail off as you saw through thick rope with the jagged glass. “Actually, there was this one time I got fried chicken from the city. I was stupid drunk and nothing was open, so my fiancé took me to a convenience store. It was cheap, but it was so yummy! I guess everything is when you’re that gone… Anyway, he was so mortified when I woke up the next morning wanting more. That was the only thing I remembered from that night.”

“Why was he so embarrassed? I think convenience store food is great!”

“Right? You understand it.” You sigh and shake your head, recalling that memory with startling clarity. “Azul is… It’s hard to explain.”

“But you’re engaged?”

“I’m crazy, aren’t I? Marrying a man who gets flustered over fried chicken from the convenience store. He ate it in a fancy suit, too. What a weirdo.”

“He sounds funny.”

“The funniest. It was our first year together as…contractual obligations. He was so determined to make a good impression that he banned junk food from his life. We broke that dumb rule that night. I think that was the first time I saw the real him. He’s cute when he blushes.”

“Contractual obligations? Why not partners?”

You cough awkwardly. “J-Just an inside joke. He’s a businessman.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” She flexes her fingers just as you manage to cut through the first knot. “That’s sweet.”

“What?”

“You and him.”

“What about us?” Your hand hesitates, gripping the shard with new force. Any tighter and you might slice your palm open.

“You must’ve been so hungry, and he went out of his way to make sure you were fed even if it meant breaking his rule.”

“That was just—he hates having to owe people stuff. He was just repaying a favor.”

“My mother used to tell me a good man will visit for your best, but a great man will stay for your worst and everything in between.”

“I…guess.”

No way Azul likes me at my worst.

You shut your mouth and resume your previous motions. With her hands now freed, you lean over the tub to work on the rope binding her ankles.

“What about your boyfriend? You said you’re not sure if you love him?”

“I don’t know what I want. We’re happy being together without any rings or ceremonies, but I feel like that’s not enough. I feel like I’m not enough.”

“Maybe you should take your mother’s advice.”

“I will when you do.”

“H-Hey!”

She giggles. “I’m kidding. I think… I’m glad you have someone who cares. It’s no fun being alone all the time. Sometimes it’s good to share your peace with others, even if that’s getting fried chicken from the convenience store with a weird guy on a chaotic night.”

You laugh, but it comes out choked.

Yeah, Azul’s weird.

And then the first tear lands on her foot. It isn’t long before more rush forth, blurring your vision. You manage to cut her free from the rope just before it becomes impossible to see clearly. When you meet her stare next, she smiles. It’s strained with sorrow.

Why are you crying? She’s just a stranger.

You throw your arms around her and sob quietly into her shoulder. She runs her hand along your back. It’s meant to soothe, but all it does is remind you of the limited time you have with her.

I’m crying because she’s a stranger. Because she’s someone I’ll never be able to know more than this.

“Escape,” you whisper as you pull away, pressing the shard into her hand. “And when you do, wait for me and we’ll have our giant tea party.”

She nods, her eyes shimmering with sadness. “You can count on it.”

When Jade returns, syringe in hand, it’s to a room of suffocating silence. You’ve no idea what its liquid contents are, but it can’t be very pleasant or safe. Regardless, you don’t intend to find out. He steps through the door, looks squarely at you, and smiles. Your skin crawls.

Calm down. It’ll be okay.

“You took your time.”

“Did I? My apologies if I kept you waiting.”

“Have you ever had mushroom tea before?”

He pauses. “Mushroom tea?”

So he wasn’t listening in. Either that, or he’s just hesitating for effect.

“I’ve never had it before, but I’d assume someone with your palate would’ve tried it.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Is there a reason for this assumption?”

“You like mushrooms. Sounds like something that’d be right up your alley.”

“You would be correct.” Jade taps the needle, eyeing the liquid within the plastic cylinder. “I’ve had it before, yes.”

“Was it good?”

“Quite.”

His gaze drifts towards the empty tub and you panic. “W-Will you bring some for me to try?”

He blinks at you. An amused smile pulls his lips apart.

You can’t stop the scowl that forms on your face. “I can’t control what the baby wants.”

Just a little longer… Keep your eyes on me.

“I’d love nothing more for you to try it.”

“But?”

“But there isn’t nearly enough credible information detailing whether chaga is safe to consume while pregnant. It would be very unfortunate if you injured your parasite on account of my negligence.”

“Someone did their research.”

“Indeed.”

“So what’s a good substitute? I want mushroom tea.”

“Pouting about it won’t fix anything.” He reaches to pull the curtain away, and you lurch forwards. The chain rattles. You pause with outstretched arms. Jade watches you with a frown. “Is something the matter?”

You lower your arms. “No… N-No, sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just…hungry.”

“As am I, so if you could stop stalling for her sake I would appreciate it.”

A bone-chilling cold blankets the bathroom.

Your laugh comes out brittle. “Who’s stalling?”

It happens so fast you wish it was slow motion. Maybe then your reaction time would’ve been better. Marisa springs out from behind the door just as Jade turns to view her. She shoves him with as much strength as she can muster, swiping at him with the glass shard. Somehow she manages to drive it into his arm. Taken by surprise, he grunts and shakes her off. The syringe clatters to the floor and you dive to snatch it before he can. With Jade temporarily thrown off, Marisa flees from the room as quickly as she can. You look on with wide eyes, the syringe clutched in a tight fist.

She’s doing it… She’s actually escaping!

Jade curls his fingers around the glass lodged in his skin and rips it out. Blood spurts from the cut, crawling down his arm in a red slither. The chunk rests on the tiles in front of you, and it fills you with a proud satisfaction knowing he’s injured, if only partially. By the time you’ve blinked, he’s already hurrying towards Marisa. She’s about to wrench the bedroom door open, her freedom just beyond the confines of his home, but he seizes her wrist and yanks her away.

Just like the syringe in your hand, your heart drops.

She yelps and twists in his hold, flailing blindly. The scene is eerily reminiscent of your scuffle with Jade—the one you’d gotten into when he revealed himself as the intruder in your apartment. You were drunk then, wholly incapable of fending him off, but Marisa isn’t. She has a chance. She can escape. There has to be a way for—

You watch her fall, cringing at the resonating thud as her back makes contact with the floorboards. Jade’s hands are around her throat before you even know it.

“N-No… Wait. Wait, stop!” You lurch towards them, but the chain only allows you to go so far. You strain against the pull, grabbing at the door frame in hopes of breaking out of the shackle’s restrictive hold. “Jade—”

Marisa’s choked gasp cuts you off. You stare at her hands as they claw at Jade’s in animalistic desperation. Her eyes are so wide you see white; her mouth is open in a silent scream. With Jade on top of her, pinning her to the floor and squeezing her neck with ruthless precision, she can only kick her legs out and produce a haunting garble of sounds as she battles an impossible enemy.

“Stop! Let go of her!”

You grit your teeth and tug against the cuff. It digs into your skin and leaves you aching from the sting. Tears sprout along your lash line, and you cry out in pained frustration. Your agony doesn’t reach Jade’s ears. Or maybe it does and he’s just tuning it out. You’re unsure until you catch sight of his expression. A blank, empty slate—that’s what he is. There’s something murderous smoldering in terrifying two-toned eyes, but his lips are pressed in a firm pout and his brows are pinched together. Not from any sort of distress but, rather, from the physical exertion. His forearms flex, every muscle riddled with tense adrenaline, and his fingers dig into her throat to cut her circulation.

From where you stand, struggling against your restraints, you think his pupils are blown wide. He looks predatory. Unhinged in a feral sort of way. Like a wild animal who’s just pounced on his prey…

A wild animal. That’s what he is right now. Something unbound by human morals and law. A creature led only by instinct—by the intrinsic desire to slaughter and feast.

“Jade!” You give another determined tug to no avail. “Jade, please—you can’t do this! She’s pregnant! She has a boyfriend—a life! You can’t!”

Your voice is shrill, scratching through your vocal chords as if it intends to shred them to ribbons. You’ve never heard yourself sound so panicked before. Never known the crushing devastation of being so close and yet so powerless.

No matter how much you scream, Jade continues to strangle her. You can’t bear to watch any longer. Sinking to the floor, you lean against the wall and press your hands to your ears. You don’t want to hear Marisa’s wheezing breaths. You don’t want to see her struggle. You don’t want to see Jade as he kills her in front of you.

You don’t want to be a witness. You want out.

After minutes of torturous asphyxiation, her thread of life is snipped and she finally fades away. Moments later, urine soaks through her shorts and pools beneath her in a puddle. You look up just in time to see him release her and rise to his full height. Heaving a sigh, Jade tucks his dark hair strand behind his ear. Marisa lies lifeless, a husk of the once bright, bubbly woman you interacted with before this. Now she’s gone.

“Y-You’re a monster…” you manage through thick, anguished sobs.

He killed her. She’s…dead. Jade killed her. I just watched her die and there was nothing I could do and I…let it happen.

“This could’ve been avoided. I was going to give her an easy death, but you forced my hand.” Jade steps around you to pick the syringe up. “Let’s add another rule to our list. Seeing as I’m not allowed to touch you, it’s only fair that you keep your nose out of my work in return.”

Dead… She’s dead. Marisa is…

“Does that sound agreeable, (Name)?”

There’s a ringing in your ears—the warning tick of a clock or the foreboding chime of a death knell. Amidst every overwhelming sensation and haywire emotion, self-preservation echoes in your head: I’ve got to get out of here.

You blink through blurring vision. Are you crying? Numbly, you touch your face. The tears are there, wetting your cheeks in copious amounts. Something’s scratching at the back of your eyes. It’s not enough to feel like sleep, but it’s a familiar sensation. You’re certain you’ve felt it before. But when?

You can’t stop crying.

She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.

You suck in gulps of air.

I should’ve done more. I could’ve done more! There had to have been something—logically. You have to look at it logically. She was doomed to die the moment Jade brought her here.

You dig your nails into your arms.

We were going to have a tea party. I was going to help her find more passions. We were going to be friends…

You watch Jade bend down to her height and press two fingers to her neck. Suddenly, there are two Jades and both are tilting. He glances at you, but his words don’t reach your ears.

I was going to save her.

Your head hits the floor with a thump. The world goes dark.

Unlike previous times, the dream aquarium is bursting with life today. Moon jellyfish float peacefully behind sturdy glass. A manta ray glides smoothly through the water in laps. Fish of all colors and shapes are caught up in the current. The glow from the tanks dyes the hall in a cool ultramarine.

It’s quiet here. Safe. Comforting.

You’re lying on the floor, dressed in a clean hospital gown, and there is an entire galaxy of jellyfish above you. They’re set into the glass ceiling, their translucent bodies bobbing up and down in hypnotic patterns. You blink once and the blue brightens as if breathing alongside you. You blink again and this time a woman pokes her head into your visual field. Her milky-white eyes, though piercing, don’t frighten you. She blinks one eye at a time and her irises explode with color—now a vibrant green. Her long, black hair is tied back in a braid that sweeps over her shoulder. Tiny stars are twined throughout.

When she speaks, she has the same voice as the woman from the intercom.

“Today’s color is blue. As vast and wide as the sky and sea, as deep and dark as water’s soul, blue is the color of trust and sincerity. It is the color of bruises and sadness. It is the color of loneliness. It is the color that has finally led me to you.”

You stare at her, spooked speechless.

“Hello again, (Name).” She smiles and offers her gloved hand. “It’s been a while. Many years, in fact. I thought I’d never be able to catch you.”

You hesitate. Can you trust her—the woman you’ve spent so many dreams pursuing? There’s no one else here in this hall. She’s your only option. Swallowing your fears, you grab her hand and allow her to hoist you to your feet.

“My name is Marmoris. Ah, I must inform you that I’ve taken the form of someone familiar, so please note that this isn’t the current me. My true form is…not very pleasant. I wouldn’t want to startle you with it.”

“The current you? Your true form?” You draw away from her and bump into the tank behind you. Turning around, you gaze at the image slowly forming within murky waters. It’s…Jade’s bathroom. And there’s Jade, stooped over Marisa’s corpse. He’s looking at you next. You place your hand against the glass, but the scene doesn’t disappear. “W-What is this? What’s going on?”

Marmoris joins you at the tank. Her reflection warps with a myriad of aquatic traits. At one point, you think you see fins where her ears ought to be—shadows of wispy tendrils where her lab coat once was. “You’ll have to forgive me. There was no other way. You’ve already seen too much.” She shuffles closer to you. Her hands cover your eyes next. “Please don’t look. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

You squirm out of her hold. The picture presented in saltwater clouds in and out of clarity. “Protect me? I don’t understand. What do you mean by—”

“There’s not much time. I can’t keep you in here any longer than I already have.” She grabs hold of your hands and squeezes them. She looks sincere enough, but you can’t get past the fact that, though she claimed to take on the appearance of someone familiar, you can’t recognize this woman’s features.

She’s a stranger.

Before you can protest further, Marmoris leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. Her lips are frigid. The transient security of the desolate dream aquarium melts away, taking you with it.

“I promise I’ll explain everything the next time we meet. When we do, look for me. I’ll be waiting.”

You jerk awake with a gasp. Your hands fly to your throat on instinct. Slowly, while catching your breath, you peer around the bathroom. Marisa has been moved to the tub and Jade’s in the process of cleaning the floor. He glances at you. His arm is bandaged.

“Welcome back.”

You shoot him a withering look. “Eat glass and die.”

“Wouldn’t that please you?”

“It would,” you whisper weakly, more tears spilling over. “It really would.”

For the first time in a while, you can’t recall any slivers of your dream.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get a Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that has regeneration like an axolotl due to it being the fools body?

Like during the ending of the route or during a fight post route Mc loses a finger or an arm and as their recovering they notice it growing back and like a few weeks or a month later it's like they never lost it to begin with. Due to how they view themselves and the fools body making them look like how they ses themselves.

Similarly to how Lucio lost his arm so long ago his metal arm is just a part of him so when he took the fools body it come with the metal arm.

(Let me know if it's not a good Hc idea and I'll change it for a different one.)

The Arcana HCs: When MC can regenerate their limbs

Julian

His first thought is "I have to keep them away from Valdemar"

His second thought is more along the lines of a very intrigued medical scholar. He's dying to figure out exactly how this works - how does your body know what to form and where??

His third thought definitely bears his younger sister's influence, because it's the sleep-deprived, melodramatic theatre kid version of "twinsies!!!"

Yes, twinsies! Because now you're one of the only other people in the world who knows what it's like to have crazy regenerative abilities! (though, he gave his up, but still -)

Will chart the growth of the limb and regularly ask you if you got any new injuries that day (obviously he hopes the answer is no, but if it's yes he has multiple reasons to want to know now)

Occasionally thinks himself into an anxiety spiral worrying that he's treating you too much like a medical phenomenon and not enough like his beloved partner. A round of smooches will take care of that

Asra

Honestly? They're more relieved, than anything

He is uncomfortably aware of the level of responsibility he has for yoinking you back to this plane of existence and knowing that you have this safety net for physical injuries is very reassuring

That said, they're still very curious about just how far it goes (not that they'd ever try to find out)

May or may not add "lizard" to his list of pet names for you, because lizards are also cute and known for losing limbs and then regenerating them for self preservation reasons

May or may not study just enough of the magic involved to suggest trying to grow said limb to be ... different than the previous one. You could grow an arm of neon tentacles!

May or may not regularly use body paint to turn your slowly regenerating limb into some kind of illusion, like a large, funky looking hamster hanging onto your shoulder (with your permission)

They love you regardless of how many limbs you have

Nadia

To say that she is intrigued is an understatement. She is borderline obsessed with your slowly reappearing limb

Much of that has to do with her desire to provide for you and the duty she's given herself of making sure that you are taken care of

Plenty of that has to do with what an excellent excuse it is to initiate touch and general affection

But a good portion of that is because, while she can tell you're a unique case, it's the kind of ability that would do so much good if she could find a way to recreate it even a little bit

She's not going to ask you to do anything unreasonable, but she might suggest allowing lead researchers in the medical field to chart your progress and study it in case they find anything

On another note, she does love to make you feel and look your best. If you've lost an arm and your outfit has gloves, you'd best believe she's ordering a mini one for your tiny hand

Pulls out old baby jewelry to try on it while it's small

Muriel

He's not going to lie, he does find it just a little disturbing

He's not going to go as far as saying that it's unnatural (he knows of plenty of creatures who can do the same thing) but it's definitely not a normal thing for humans to do

It's far outweighed by his gratitude that you're able to heal from such difficult injuries to this extent. He likes your limbs :)

He's also terrified of accidentally ruining whatever unforeseen magical force is allowing your body to manifest itself back together

You're clearly already very good at losing limbs! He doesn't want to make you lose another one! What if it's like one of those budding flowers that's really sensitive to touch?

He doesn't want to find that out the hard way! What's he going to do if he reaches for your mini-hand and the rest of your mini-arm comes with it? Stick it back on??

The above freakout is happening on the inside. On the outside, he's avoiding that area of your body and being very protective of it

Portia

It goes without saying that she thinks this is pretty cool

First off, you lost a limb, which is badass by default, and now you're completely regrowing it on accident - that's amazing!

She does casually mention that she is curious about just how far your body can regenerate itself at one point, but that's just idle wondering unless it's something you want to look into too

Fascinated by your mini-limb while it's growing back

Comes up with a whole list of pet names for it (squishy, tiny, silly, mr peach, miss millie, The Growth ...) but she mostly sticks to referring to it as your baby

"Good morning MC! And good morning squishy! How's your baby growing?" (all this is said while she hands you your preferred morning beverage and rubs the affected limb like it's a belly)

Overall she's so adaptable that she kind of ... forgets that it's weird. At least, until someone else sees it for the first time

Then she'll tell them it's because her shrink ray missed

Lucio

Seriously?

No no no no no -- SERIOUSLY?!?!?

He's been living with a prosthetic limb (albeit a really cool one) for TWENTY YEARS NOW, and you just randomly start growing yours back just like that? JUST LIKE THAT?! NO!!!

He's not mad because he thinks you don't deserve it! You do deserve it! You saved the world without having to make a life full of criminal oopsies first, and you did it while you rehabilitated him!!

He's mad because even if he doesn't deserve it more than you do, he wants it more than you do! WHY DIDN'T THE ARCANA OFFER HIM HIS ARM BACK, HUH?!

(This is a very good point at which to tell him that you think the metal arm is attractive. He will quickly switch gears into crooning and flirting at you and rarely bring it up again)

He does often comment on its growth patterns, and has definitely made an innuendo or two about it for funsies

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Dbf Joel and younger reader sneaking off in his truck to make out !!

I may have done a bit more than making out, but I hope you enjoy!

title: moments we stole

pairing: dad's best friend!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1544

summary:

It''s your dad's 40th birthday party and you can't help yourself from flirting with his best friend, Joel Miller.

author's note: if you've sent in a request, thank you!! i love you!! the biggest smooches for you!! i promise i'm working on them. hope you enjoy!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, age difference (22F and 36M), pre-outbreak, teasing, flirting, established relationship, sneaking around, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, vaginal fingering, making out, semi-public sex. let me know if any are missing!

It’s your dad’s 40th birthday party. Your house is packed with all your dad’s friends from the architectural firm he works at, including a slew of brawny construction workers and contractors that mingle among the more clean cut architects and engineers. There’s one man in particular that keeps drawing your eye.

Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller. 

He’s a contractor your dad has worked with on a number of projects over the years. He’s younger than your dad at thirty-six years old, tall and broad with gorgeous brown eyes and dark curly hair. The first time you saw him at one of your parent’s parties, you could swear it was love at first sight for your little sixteen year old brain.

You're twenty-two now as you mingle with your dad’s guests, a beer bottle sweating in your hand as you nod along to the story your dad’s colleague is telling you. Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention as Joel walks by.

“Excuse me for a sec, Richard. It was nice talking to you,” you say to the man you’d been speaking with. You follow after Joel, broad shoulders easy to track in the crowd.

He stops to talk to your dad and you slip beside him, your bare arm brushing his flannel covered one. Your dad smiles at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, sweetie, you remember Joel, right?” He asks, gesturing to him. You grin at Joel.

“Of course I do, dad. He’s been at all your parties since I was sixteen. I haven’t been away that long,” you reply with a good natured roll of your eyes. “Hiya, Mr. Miller.”

The man chokes on his sip of beer, clearing his throat. “How’ve you been? You graduated in May, right?”

“Yeah, but you already knew that,” you giggle. His eyes go the tiniest bit wide. “It’s been good. Happy to be back home.”

“I bet. You went pretty far for school.” 

“Still made it back for all dad’s parties and holidays, though. So, hopefully you didn’t miss me too much.”

You can see his jaw clenching. Your dad continues to smile at the two of you, blissfully unaware of the blatant flirting you’re throwing at his friend.

The thing is, you do know Joel. Intimately.

It started when you were nineteen. You came home for winter break but your parents had re-keyed your childhood home with some fancy biometric locks that you weren’t set up to use yet, nor did you have the physical key to bypass it.

But Mr. Miller had a copy of the key. Your dad gave you the man’s address and when you showed up, Joel had groaned and ran a hand through his messy curls.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I tried to tell your dad that I gave him that key back. But you’re welcome to come inside and wait until one of ‘em gets home from work?”

And that’s what you did. Waiting with Joel Miller turned into watching movies with Joel Miller, which turned into kissing Joel Miller, which turned into laying beneath Joel Miller and moaning his name as he pounded into you.

You saw him a couple more times during that first break, each time more explosive than the last. You went back to school with a sore pussy and a new number saved in your phone that you would call late at night, tucked under your covers in your dorm.

The secret hook ups and phone calls continued and every time you flew home to visit your parents, you’d slip into bed with Joel. Somewhere between nights on the phone and nights in his bed, you’d fallen in love. A fact that you accidentally let slip during a call, when you had to get going and you absentmindedly told the man, “Bye, love you!”

You remember freaking out about that for hours. But when he called you that evening, everything seemed perfectly fine. As you were saying goodbye, he asked, “Aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’, baby?”

That’s how you found out Joel Miller loved you, too.

“We’re very proud of her. Graduated with honors,” your dad chimes in.

“Yeah. Cum laude,” you say, emphasizing your mispronunciation of the phrase. Joel looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel.

“I forgot somethin’ in the truck,” he mumbles. “Be back in a minute.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, a hitch in his step that makes you giggle. You continue to speak with your dad for a couple more minutes before you excuse yourself under the guise of getting another drink.

You grab two beers on your way out the front door, swinging them gently as you walk to the edge of your driveway and follow the sidewalk to where it ends near the woods that border your parent’s neighborhood.

A familiar black truck is tucked away in the tree line and you smile as you see Joel Miller standing there with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his handsome face. 

“You think you’re so fuckin’ funny,” he says as you draw near. He takes the beer bottles from your hands, setting them in the truck bed before tugging you close as you giggle.

“Absolutely hilarious,” you reply. His broad palm cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his in a kiss so heated it makes your toes curl. His other hand grips your ass through the fabric of your dress.

“Wearin’ this little thing was the worst tease of all,” he growls. He hoists you up onto the truck tailgate, stepping between your legs. The added height of the truck brings his hips flush with your aching core, the hard length of him brushing against your clit and making you whimper. “Mmm, not so smart now, huh?”

“Joel,” you whine. His lips descend on yours, moving in practiced tandem, spit slick and so warm even the chill night air can’t bother you. “We don’t have much time,” you say between his drugging kisses, your words a little slurred and not from the buzz of beer in your veins.

“Don’t rush me, princess,” Joel says as he trails kisses down your neck, across your clavicle, to your shoulder. His hand grips your breast, tugging the neckline of your dress down to expose one of your nipples. He runs a thumb across the hard nub before chasing the sensation with his lips and tongue and teeth. You squirm against him as he gives your other breast the same attention.

Joel slides a hand up your leg, starting with a light trace of his fingertips at your ankle and ending with a harsh grip to your inner thigh, his thumb reaching to rub your clit through your panties. You whine again, high and needy, as he draws back to watch your face while he circles your clit. 

“So goddamn beautiful,” he says. His fingers shove aside your underwear, sliding through your slick folds. “Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Teasin’ me work you up that much?”

His groan echoes yours as he slips two fingers inside of you, curling them harshly as he pulls back before repeating the actions again and again, winding you so tight but backing off just as you’re about to explode that you want to cry in frustration.

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?” Joel teases. You pout and he chuckles, adding a swirl of his thumb on your clit to each thrust inside your cunt. “Don’t pout, you know I can’t say no to you when you look at me with those sweet little eyes.”

“I wanna come so bad, Joel, please,” you beg, rocking against his hand. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, concentrating his efforts on your clit with incredible precision. You bite into his shoulder as you shatter, stifling your moan into that goddamn flannel that makes his biceps look so good. “That’s it, good girl, fuck you look good comin’ on my fingers. Can’t wait to get you in bed later.”

Joel slows his hand before withdrawing, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean while you try to catch your breath. When he deems them clean he digs his fingers into your hair, tugging your head back to grace you with a filthy kiss that tastes like you and the beer he’d been drinking earlier. 

“I love you,” he says as he pulls away, lips tilted in a completely besotted smile that makes your heart beat triple time. It makes you so glad to be home, where your stolen moments are slowly turning into something more real, more permanent. 

“I love you, too.”

________ 

You drink your beers on the way back to the house, slipping back into the party just as your mom announces it’s time to cut the cake. You stand shoulder to shoulder with Joel as everyone sings an off key rendition of Happy Birthday to your dad, the older man smiling brightly at everyone.

He helps your mom pass out plates of dessert. When he reaches you and Joel he asks, “Did you get what you needed from your truck?”

Joel chokes on his bite of cake and you pat his back as he coughs. 

“Yeah, uh, yeah. I definitely did.”

Joel Miller taglist:

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-catals-cat @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the master list

[crusty-chronicles]

If you write smut for Sebastian and the airheaded reader, My life is yours.

Smut Week: Day Three

Devour

NSFW: MDNI

Warnings: Dub con, oral sex, cunnilingus, doggy style, unprotected sex, cum eating, overstimulation, Sebastian being a demon, afab reader

The sound of glass shattering was never a good one. Especially when it was accompanied by one of your ‘oops���. A shame May-Rin was sick today. At least then there was still half a chance everything wasn't broken. Maybe he should’ve told you to work on the garden with Finny.

There was a resounding ‘boom’ from outside.

No, Sebastian had made the right choice.

He let out a drained sigh before making his way towards you. As he rounded the corner, he could see you frantically try to pick up what you dropped. Crimson steadily leaking from your palms.

Your pain tolerance was higher than most humans. It makes him smile to see you continue on like nothing's happened. To ignore the vast amount of cuts on your hands. 

He's next to you within seconds, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapping one of your hands. Making sure to apply pressure in order to stop the bleeding. The white fabric being stained with splotches of red.

“Did you break another glass, pet?” He questions. 

His tone is cooing as you stare up at him. He begins to tend to your other hand, watching a pout make its way to your face.

“I told you I wasn't good with anything fragile,” you reminded. 

“It would seem everything is fragile when it comes to you.” He muttered under his breath. 

You and your brutish strength. 

“Perhaps you should busy yourself elsewhere. We wouldn't want the young lord blowing a fuse, now would we? Why don't you tire out the dog?” He suggested.

Immediately your eyes lit up. Giving the demonic butler a smooch on his cheek before running off. 

“Ohhhh Pluto!!!!!” You called out.

He doesn't understand you and your brother’s connection to that mutt. Scratch that, he doesn't like your connection to that mangy beast. Especially when it takes on a more human appearance.

However, he can't afford to dwell on that now. There's a mess that needs cleaning. The broken shards you'd left behind. He picks up a piece and inspects it. 

He can smell your blood. The sweet metallic aroma infiltrates his senses. A scent that's marked with his. All thanks to the sigil over your heart. It takes everything in him not to hunt you down and sink his teeth in. 

You've left him wanting and you don't even know it.

Your soul calls to him in a way that others don't. It's pure. So very sweet thanks to your naivety. It's a beacon of light compared to his master’s. But it's also strong. Pumped full of your determination and need to persevere. 

It's…Delectable.

It has him yearning for the feast. When he inevitably bores of you and devours your soul. He'd have his meal, and in a few centuries he'd have his desert too. 

He discards the mess you made into the bin. Catching a glimpse of you outside from the window. You and Finny were laughing while you played fetch with Pluto. The two of you tossing a tree back and forth as the demon hound tried to catch it.

Sebastian doesn't mind your closeness with Finny. But he doesn't exactly like it either. It means he has to earn the gardener’s respect when courting you. A pesky human custom. 

If he had it his way, he'd have already swept you away to his nest. Where you'd remain for all eternity until he's had his fill of your antics. 

He wonders then, if your soul would darken seeing your loved ones wither away. How you'd feel being frozen in time whilst those around you changed with age. Watching until they were nothing but dust.

Would it become tainted by grief seeing your brother’s lifetime pass by before your very eyes?

Would it weep with sorrow?

Would it brim with fire and hatred when the young Lord's contract was up? Witnessing him scream in agony whilst his soul was ripped from its mortal flesh.

Or would you be none the wiser?

He would expect nothing less from you. You precious naive fool. No matter. Whether your soul remained sweet with ignorance or steadily darkened with anguish, he'd enjoy his meal all the same.

For now, there are other ways to satisfy his hunger. 

—----------------------

It was a long while before he got you alone. The end of the day in fact. When both yours and his duties had been completed. Such a shame, he was hoping to ravish you sooner. Oh well, he supposed he would just have to make due.

He enters your shared room, courtesy of the young lord. You turned around and beamed up at him. You're so cute he could just devour you whole. Like a dog whose master has just arrived home.

“Getting settled in for bed?” He asked.

You nod, still in today's uniform. A clean set of clothes in your hands.

“I was just about to change. I'm all dirtied up from earlier. Maybe even take a shower.” You informed before making your way towards the bathroom.

You're stopped just before you reach the door, feeling Sebastian's presence from behind you. There's a flash of white from your peripherals. Before you realize what's happening, your breasts are enveloped by a searing warmth.

He holds your chest firmly, squeezing the pliable flesh between his fingers. He gauges your reaction. And when there's nothing besides shock, he grins. It's become one of his most favorite games as of late. Seeing how far he can push boundaries before you catch on to what he wants. Or before you give in to your own desires.

“My sweet pet, it seems your uniform has grown tight on you. Hardly the appropriate look for a Phantomhive servant.” He tuts disapprovingly. 

You turn your head up at him, catching his dark gaze. None the wiser yet to his true intentions.

“Really? I think it fits just fine,” you brush off.

“Will you allow me to inspect further?”

How he enjoyed this game of cat and mouse. Your naivety made it all the more enjoyable. And like the moth to the flame, you'd agreed without a second thought.

“I don't see why not.”

He turns you around in his grasp, carefully unbuttoning the front of your uniform. He reveals your bodice that laid underneath first. And layer by layer he exposes you. The sight of your bare skin finally greeting him. His eyes can't help but glow seeing the sigil over your heart. 

Such a good pet you were being for him.

He gropes you once more. The only thing separating him from your bare flesh are his gloves. They'd be gone soon enough. You lean forward on him, arms resting on his shoulders while he continued to toy with your soft skin. He can see your face heat up. Unsure about the sensations he's giving you.

“Your bust seems to have grown a few centimeters.” He noted.

“Has it?” You questioned.

It's getting harder and harder for you to focus on his voice. A feeling of want starting to course through you. 

“Why don't I just make sure?”

Without warning, he sinks down on his knees in front of you. Eyeing your breast with a certain hunger. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks. The feeling has you letting out a noise of surprise. Arousal beginning to pool in your stomach.

“S-Sebastian!”

He pays no mind to your cries. Running his tongue over the perky bud and taking in your skin's taste. It hardens in his mouth while his hand kneads the flesh of your other breast. He can smell your slick from his place on the ground. He knows then that he's won. The dots finally connecting in your brain.

“Oh! Is this-Do you want to-!” You gasp out, gently bringing a hand to tangle in his hair.

He gives an approving hum against your skin. Releasing your nipple from his mouth before attaching to the other one. You were much quicker than the previous time. Last time he had to place your hand against his hardened cock for you to get it. Seems you were getting better at understanding his cues.

He pulls away completely at the feeling of your fingers tightening against his scalp. You'd hurt him if you weren't careful. As if. Your expression is flustered when it meets his. Truly you were an adorable little thing.

“My dearest pet, will you allow me to bed you.” His eyes burn a bright shade of fuchsia, beckoning you to say yes. 

The word is barely a whisper under your breath, but that's all he needs. His fingers quickly looping under your bottoms and tugging them down. You step out of the rest of your uniform, leaving you in only your underwear. 

Sebastian can smell you fully now. The sweet scent your slick gives out. He thinks he'll start there first. He'll prepare you nice and slow for him. Get you worked up until the only thing you know is his name.

“Lay down for me.” He orders.

There's something about the way you respond so obediently to him. Getting on your mattress and slightly spreading your legs. Perhaps it's being able to hold power over another after being reduced to nothing but a servant. Or maybe it's just the way you submit to him. Your strength and reliance going out the window with a mere look from him.

He relishes it all the same. 

Your eyes staring wide at him while he undresses. The way your pupils seemed to dilate when he took off his coat. There's a certain innocence despite having done this before. It's refreshing.

He unbuttons his vest before moving on to his dress shirt, the crisp white distorting on his frame. He knows his appearance is one desired by women and men alike. Lecherous stares followed him everywhere he went. Yet you always looked at him differently. As if he were an equal. Nothing less.

It's one of the many reasons you're so entertaining. Especially when you self-consciously cross your legs at the sight of him pulling his gloves off with his teeth. He wants to chastise you for getting shy on him now, just to fluster you impossibly more.

On his left hand is his master's sigil, on his right is yours. He uses both to engage in this act of sin. Unbuckling his belt and pulling his trousers down. With his aching shaft free, he crawls towards you on the bed.

He places his hands on your thighs and slowly pulls them apart. A notable wet splotch in the middle of your underwear. He thinks he'll have his meal right now. 

“May I?” He asked. His fingers looping under the thin fabric.

“Please,” you responded.

Oh how cute. You were begging for him. Well since you'd asked so nicely~

He rips the flimsy fabric off of you, tossing your legs over his shoulders and diving in. He laps at your sweet hole first. Letting your juices cover his tongue entirely. Your taste is absolutely divine. 

He hears you cry out at the sudden stimulation. Your hands once again finding their way to his hair. You could push and pull to your heart’s desire, but he wasn't stopping until he got what he wanted.

Feeling like you were slick enough, he stretches you open with two fingers. Redirecting his attention to your clit. He laps on the sensitive nub with fervor, giving a harsh suck when you let out a moan.

His fingers work in tandem. Thrusting in and out at a steady pace. Every now and then curving up into that spongy spot inside you. A noise of satisfaction escapes him when your hips raise to chase after his digits.

Such a needy thing you were. Grinding against his fingers to seek out more friction. He feels you start to clench around them. Your cries rising in pitch as you gave his scalp a tug.

He wants you to cum on his tongue. He wants to taste you in full. Your sweetness that was only for him. He lets you continue to ride his fingers, crooking them up to repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Not a second later, you're cumming on his face.

He eagerly removes his fingers and cleans them with his tongue. He wouldn't be wasting a drop of his hard-earned meal. He pulls you closer by your hips when he's done. His tongue darting out to finish the rest of your release.

“W-wait! I'm sensitive!” You plead, arching your body away from him.

He parts from you briefly, watching as you squirm from under his gaze.

“My dear, the night has barely begun. I suggest you find a little of that endurance you have in battle. I don't plan on finishing with you anytime soon.” His voice is stern, as if lecturing you.

He quickly dives back in to finish cleaning you. This time, lapping a little more softly to soothe the waves of overstimulation. Humans are fragile in every sense of the word.

He lifts himself up when he's satisfied. Eyeing you with a look that only spells out danger. Such a shame you couldn't see it.

“Be a good pet and get on your knees for me.” Sebastian coos, cupping your cheek and lightly slapping at it.

Wordlessly, you do as he asks. Turning over and resting your hands and knees on the bed. The sight of your glistening cunt makes him feral. Displayed so prettily for him.

He'll have to make you take the day off from tomorrow. He doubts you'll be able to walk when he's done with you. But then again, you were always full of surprises.

He lines himself up to your entrance. Rubbing the tip of his shaft against your hole to tease you. And when he hears the hitch in your breath, he pushes in.

He doesn't bother stretching you inch by inch. He knows you can take everything he gives you without complaint. You always do. Still, he lets out a hiss feeling your cunt envelop his cock. Your walls wrapping tight around him. 

He didn't usually take pleasure in these sorts of things. Using his body as a means to gain information in some cases. But you- you made it worth his while. Thinking in that dull little head of yours he was making love to you.

Fool. Demons didn't have hearts. They could not love…That doesn't mean he won't indulge in your innocent fantasy.

He leans his body over yours until his chest touches your back. Wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you near while he thrusted into you. His pace unrelenting.

You can practically feel him in your stomach. The way his cock makes a place for itself inside you. Stretching you out deliciously before disappearing. You can't help but want to chase after the feeling of being completely stuffed. For him to stay snug inside you.

If anybody were to see you now, you'd be dubbed a harlot. Sleeping with a man who was not your spouse. Shunned from society for engaging in such a promiscuous act.

And it makes you tighten around him. Moaning filthy into the pillows while he fucks you into the mattress. A coil starting to form in your stomach.

Maybe you understand now why he's so desired. You'd admit Sebastian was beautiful. But you were never tripping over your feet for him. Turning into a stuttery mess in his presence. No, you were not with him for his appearance, and you don't think you'd ever be.

But now you just might be with him for his cock.

You can feel his pace stutter. His arm tightening around you. You can even hear him let out a few soft grunts. He was close. You both were. The coil in your stomach wound with tension.

Then you feel it. Sebastian moving his mouth right over your pulse before biting down. The pain mixing with pleasure was enough to send you towards the edge. Clenching and spasming around him as you came.

A white hot pleasure overtakes you, making you blank out. Sebastian keeps moving inside you in an attempt to chase his own high. Feeling his cock throbbing and pulling out before he has a chance to finish inside. He cums on your back, sticky ropes of white staining your skin. Marked so nicely for him. 

He can taste your blood on his tongue. Watching as you collapsed on the bed. The crimson on his taste buds makes him want more. Your dazed out state lets him know of what.

He flips you onto your back, ignoring your protests about laying in his seed. The candlelight flickers into nothingness. A telltale sign of what he's about to do.

Sebastian lets himself become bare in every sense of the word. He wants to know. He craves seeing your reaction to his true form. The way your debauched expression would surely turn into one of fear. 

He wants to push the furthest he can. To test the utmost limits of your sanity. He wants to frighten you. Show you exactly what you're messing with. A lowly demon.

You stare up at the figure of darkness above you in shock. Black wings unfurling to cage you in. And despite the hunger, the unmasked malintent in his eyes, you can't help but think he's beautiful. This monster who had presented himself as otherwise.

“What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghoul.” His voice is deep and mocking.

It feels like it's rumbling off the walls. You've never heard anything like it. Nothing quite as…foreboding. But you've always been one to ignore warning signs.

“Have you always been so pretty Sebastian?”

It's said with so much honesty that it gives him pause. Your eyes had been filled with wonder instead of fear. The grin he gives you then spells out nothing but danger.

He won't ever let you go now. Not until his very being ceased to exist. And even then he'd find a way to drag you into damnation with him. He's going to keep you as long as he can. 

“I'll devour you whole if you keep talking like that. My precious sweetling. Let's see if you'll be able to keep up with me.” He warns before hooking your legs over his shoulder and sliding in once more.

—---------------------------------

An: Me seeing Book of Atlantis’ Sebastian’s collarbones: I'm no better than a man 😞😞😞

Also, I got this request when I was halfway through with the Hiei smut. Brilliant minds think alike 😈😈😈