#ghost in the shell 「 musings.」

[zzedar2]

It's always annoying when a work of fiction presents a "revelation" that you didn't even realize was supposed to not be known. In Jennifer Government, there's a bit where this guy is infiltrating the villainous organization having copied the identity of a member of that organization. He meets a guy whose name is the same as his cover name, and a bit later he suddenly discovers that this is the person he's disguised as! In one Ghost in the Shell episode, they're looking through the pictures taken by a murder victim -- in a world where cybernetic implants are common, and which are clearly taken from his eyes rather than a camera -- and then much much later one of these crack professional detectives realizes that there's no camera and this is the key clue he needs to blow open the case. Even if I might buy someone from our time missing that, this guy lives in a world where such things are commonplace! How does he not realize this?

[styxxsyringe]

zeno's ultimate pokemiku tierlist ⁉️(it's all his opinion and he loves them all regardless⁉️)

[girlberrie]

hi. um. guys?????? i shifted???????????

its embarrassing. because i was literally in the toilet. and i thought to myself, ‘wouldn’t it be funny if i shifted right now?’. and i shifted. to my gamer//streamer//better reality. what the fuck .

(i know i made a post about how if i shifted i would never come back but…….. i have to share this. its the only reason why i shifted back here. next time i shift though? you guys are NOT hearing about it)

quick rundown : i was studying for my chemistry exam that will happen next week in this reality. i needed to use the bathroom. so i went. i started thinking about shifting because i was bored out of my mind. i said ‘fuck it let me try’, closed my eyes, and BOOM. i’m in a different bathroom. the bathroom i had scripted would be my bathroom in my small apartment. in my dr.

i freaked out a little bit because i am NOT nonchalant. i looked at myself in the mirror and I WAS SO BEAUTIFULLLLLLLLLLLLL i mean its my cr face but just improved to my liking BUT I WAS SO BEAUTIFULLL. and i said that aloud too, which freaked me out because my voice is a little different too (it was a bit smoother and soothing idk its my voice feels weird to describe it). my hair was tied up in a bun and i didn’t feel like letting it down, but my fringe was cut so nicely. it fit my face. and it wasn’t poking me in the eyes. i had some strands of hair that were also shorter that had fell out of the bun but it looked very pinterest-esque. very picture worthy. i looked picture worthy. the whole time i was like a movie character sat down at their vanity inspecting their face obsessively. if the mirror had a consciousness it would think i am deranged or something idk . moving onnnnnnn

my bathroom was so nicely decorated i was proud of myselffff. the colours????? the teal the magenta-ish purple the orange????? i had my chanel makeup products all over the sink counter too. it was so chic . guys i am so fucking cool . i feel great about myself now.

and you have to know. the apartment i scripted i owned has a wonderful view. its gorgeous. the galata tower AND the bosphorus?????? and it was a bright, cloudless day. a bit windy. the leaves on the trees were swaying and the sun was so bright it was making the bosphorus water twinkle . i opened the windows (which i didn’t even think about how) to let the breeze in. the air!!!! was clean!!!!!! no smell of petrol!!!!! air pollution is gone!!!!!! my lungs felt great sfkjhsekf IT WAS AMAZING

i didn’t spend much time there (in my dr) because i was a bit shell-shocked///flabbergasted///confuddled and like. i can shift back anytime and anywhere. i know that now, given the fact that i literally shifted… when i was in the toilet…. whilst doing my business.

but in the little time i spent there, i went into my bedroom (AGAIN, FLAWLESSLY DECORATED . I LOVE MYSELF) and just looked at everything. i had all of my perfumes on a silver platter on my bedside table. i had byredo’s mohave ghost. j’adore dior. nishane’s hundred silent ways. issey miyake’s l'eau d'issey (the blue one. i LOVE that one). orabella salted muse. twilly d’hermes. tom ford’s soleil neige. i had a sephora perfume section next to my bed at this point. i would’ve sprayed them all but i didn’t want to cause a sneezing hazard. i did spray soleil neige because i wanted to know if it would smell good on me. and it did, of course.

i had paintings hung up on the wall where my bed was situated. and the paintings were the art on my pinterest board. they were framed in fancy gold looking frames (they were painted gold. not actual gold). i had tears in my eyes,,,,,,, my bedroom was so gorgeous. it was great.

my bed?????????? silk bedsheets in light pink. i laid down on it for a minute. it was so so so soft. and so inviting i almost wanted to fall asleep but i resisted. i had a persian rug with purple-magenta, teal & dark blue and beige details it was so beautiful . it made my bare feet feel warm and the texture was smooth enough to not annoy me (i am sensitive about those things, i fear).

i had scripted that my closer is far bigger than it looks (barbie: dreamhouse style) and it was. i didn’t question the how. but it was a huge, gorgeous room, full of beautiful clothing. the lighting was not too dim but not too bright and so it didn’t hurt my eyes. and the CLOTHES AAAAAAAAA. zimmerman floral dresses. blumarine . archival miu miu. but also: rick owens. maison margiela (THE TABI COLLECTION I HAD. AAAAA). i had ann demeulemeester boots!!!! i had an archival dior dress (the black and lavender knit dress from fw1998). i had more than one archival dior dress. i had alexander mcqueen leather jackets. ugh it was so sexy . i felt the material, brushed my fingertips on all of those. i felt delirious. it seemed too good to be true, BUT IT WAS TRUE. it was REAL. moving on the closet was museum material . i was having the time of my life.

and then . i laid my eyes on the beautiful pc setup i had. and i couldn’t help it. i sat down and played some sims 4. i could use shaders!!!!!!! it was running smoothly!!!!!!! no glitches!!!!!!!!!!

basically: i spent an hour looking around my apartment and the rest was spent in create-a-sim on my computer. because i could literally shift realities and still be a sims girlie. it is embedded into my DNA.

i had the time of my life guys. i didn’t even look at my phone once. it was on my bed. but i didn’t want to look because i was too preoccupied crashing out about my pulitzer prize worthy closet and the view from my windows . but my computer had the date and it was may 6th 2022. which was the year i wanted to shift to. MY COMPUTER WAS ALSO SO AESTHETIC (i had apple’s dynamic wallpaper…. and some folders that i had edited to look like cat memes. i’m exaggerating . just a little bit) AAAAaaaaaaAAaaaaaa everything was so good i’m gonna cry. i felt so much relief!!!! so much happiness!!!! i didn’t know i could feel this way!!!!!!!!

anyway i finished making my sim and just sat there because i got a little bored. and then i thought that maybe sharing this joy with all of you would be nice of me to do. and i sort of wanted to. even though i am going to permashift and made a post saying that i wouldn’t be back. nevertheless, i decided to shift back here to make this post.

so, hey. the moral of the story is::::: SHIFTING IS REAL. ITS SO REAL. NEVER GIVE UP YOU CAN HAVE WHATEVER YOU WANTTTTTTTTTTT

..................................:

(ps. if there are any typos or any sentences that make no sense, it is because i am shaking out of excitement and joy whilst i type this)

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

how about sylus let reader gobbles his dick up on her throat as he working shes so needy she even falls asleep during it or even let reader cockwarm him to sleep 🤍

᧔♡᧓ ࿐ SLEEPING ON HIM !

❦ warnings : nsfw, cockwarming, deepthroating, semi-public s*x, size difference, sleepy s*x, power play, and petnames.

❦ synopsis : You were supposed to be patient, supposed to wait until Sylus finished his work—but your neediness got the better of you. Now, with his cock buried deep inside you, keeping you warm and full while he works, you’re fighting off sleep, body soft and pliant in his lap. Sylus should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to care; not when you’re clinging to him so sweetly, whimpering in your sleep, desperate even in your dreams. Work can wait. For now, he’s content to keep you exactly where you belong. (mdni)

Sylus barely spares you a glance as he flips through the documents on his desk, eyes scanning each page with practiced efficiency. His free hand rests lazily on your head, fingers occasionally threading through your hair as you kneel between his legs, mouth stuffed full of his cock.

You’d been like this for a while now—desperate and needy, whining softly around him while he worked. He hadn’t even told you to do it. You’d just climbed into his lap, pawing at his belt, too impatient for him to finish his tasks. And Sylus, ever indulgent when it came to you, had let you.

“You’re insatiable,” he mutters, barely holding back a smirk as he watches you struggle to take him deeper. Your throat contracts around his length, a muffled whimper escaping as your hands clutch at his thighs for stability. “This is supposed to keep you quiet, not make you squirm.”

You whine in protest, blinking up at him with teary eyes, lips stretched wide around his cock. He chuckles at your expression, finally setting his papers aside to brush his thumb against your cheek.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sleepy already,” he muses, watching the way your lashes flutter. You’re so warm around him, so pliant, and the rhythmic bob of your head is growing lazier with each passing minute. "Greedy little thing… you bite off more than you can chew, then wear yourself out trying."

He exhales through his nose, tilting your chin up and easing you off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. Your breath is heavy, lips swollen and glistening, pupils blown wide with exhaustion and arousal.

“You want to be full so badly?” Sylus murmurs, guiding you into his lap properly this time. His cock, slick with your spit, presses against your entrance, and he groans as he sinks you down onto him in one slow, steady motion.

A shudder runs through your body, your arms draped loosely over his shoulders as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. He strokes a hand down your spine, soothing you as you settle, buried balls-deep on his cock.

“Stay put, kitten,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he shifts just enough to grab his documents again. “Since you’re so desperate to be filled, you can warm me while I finish up.”

You make a soft, content sound, already half-asleep against him. Sylus smirks, flipping the page.

Needy little thing.

Sylas exhales slowly, adjusting his grip on the papers in one hand while the other rests against your lower back, keeping you pressed firm against him. You're still clinging to him, limp and boneless, soft breaths puffing against his collarbone as you drift in and out of consciousness.

He can feel the subtle flutter of your walls around him, involuntary little squeezes that make his jaw clench. You’re so warm, so snug around his cock, and fuck, it takes more restraint than he’d like to admit to keep himself from rolling his hips up into you.

“Didn’t think this through, did you?” he murmurs, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. You barely stir, only sighing against his skin, a little noise of contentment slipping past your lips.

Sylus smirks, amused at how quickly you’ve gone pliant—so eager to have him inside you, only to get so sleepy the moment you got what you wanted. He shifts in his chair, adjusting the papers in his hand, though the weight of you in his lap, the squeeze of your pussy around his cock, makes it impossible to focus.

His fingers twitch against your spine before trailing lower, skimming down to where your bodies are joined. He palms the curve of your ass, gripping just hard enough to make you stir, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

“You’re clinging to me like you don’t want me to pull out,” he muses, voice low and amused. “Maybe I should. Leave you empty so you can actually sleep properly.”

A pathetic little sound rumbles in your throat, and Sylus chuckles. His hand slides up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I’ll let you have it—for now.”

Your breath hitches, your body sinking further into his, and Sylus allows himself a brief moment to indulge, letting his eyes slip shut as he savors the feeling of you wrapped around him, warm and trembling, completely at his mercy.

Work can wait. For now, he’s exactly where he wants to be.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[misswynters]

Scientific purposes

drabble

featuring. viktor x reader

warnings. suggestive, kissing in the council room

requested. @pinklunarprincess

In council chambers which were dimly lit, the last vestiges of daylight filtering through the tall, arched windows. The air carried the faint scent of ink and parchment, mingling with the lingering tension of earlier debates. You remained seated at the head of the long mahogany table, meticulously reviewing the day’s proposals when Viktor entered. He moved quietly, his mechanical brace clicking softly against the polished floor. His golden eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. This wasn’t his first visit today. He had come by twice already under the guise of needing your counsel. But this time, his intent seemed different, and the way he locked the door behind him sent a spark of anticipation down your spine.

“I see you’ve returned,” you remarked without looking up, your tone laced with playful exasperation. “What pressing matter is it this time, Viktor?”

He hesitated, his hands clasped behind his back. “There are… complexities in the hextech approval process. I thought it best to speak with you directly.” His voice was calm, measured, but the slight tremor betrayed him.

You tilted your head, finally meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable, and it ignited something within you. “Complexities, hmm? Are you sure this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Not with you here,” he replied softly, his honesty catching you off guard.

Rising from your seat, you took a slow step toward him, watching as his confidence wavered under your scrutiny. “You seem rather insistent tonight,” you mused, the faintest of smirks tugging at your lips. “Tell me, are these complexities truly about hextech? Or is there something else on your mind?”

His breath hitched as you closed the distance between you. “I—” he began, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. His gaze flickered to your lips, and he took a small step back, his resolve clearly wavering. “It would be improper…”

“Improper?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “Since when has that stopped you from seeking what you want?”

Your words left him momentarily speechless, and you could see the war playing out behind his golden eyes. Finally, he drew in a sharp breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “You.”

You closed the remaining distance, your hands finding the lapels of his coat as you pulled him toward the chair at the center of the room. “Sit,” you commanded softly, your tone leaving no room for argument. He obeyed, his movements almost mechanical as he lowered himself into the chair.

Hovering above him, you placed one knee between his legs, your weight barely pressing against him. The intimacy of the position made him tense, his hands gripping the armrests tightly as if anchoring himself. Leaning forward, your lips ghosted over his, your breath mingling with his as you spoke. “You could’ve just said you wanted my attention, Viktor. All this talk of ‘complexities’ wasn’t necessary.”

“I…” He swallowed hard, his hands twitching as though resisting the urge to touch you. “I did not want to—overstep.”

A soft chuckle escaped you as your fingers trailed up his jaw, tilting his face to meet yours. “And yet here we are," you murmured, brushing your lips against his in the faintest of touches.

The kiss deepened quickly, his restraint crumbling as his hands finally moved to rest on your hips. The heat between you was palpable, your bodies pressing closer as the tension that had been building for weeks finally erupted. Viktor's lips were fervent against yours, his usual precision and control giving way to raw need.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your lips brushing against his ear. "You've been driving yourself mad over this, haven't you?"

"Yes," he admitted hoarsely, his voice heavy with desperation. "You... sure are intoxicating."

Your teeth grazed the shell of his ear, drawing a shiver from him as you whispered, "Then let me consume you."

His response was immediate, his hands tightening on your waist as though afraid you might disappear. You could feel his pulse racing beneath your fingertips as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. There was something beautiful about seeing him like this. Unguarded, vulnerable, and utterly at your mercy.

"You're trembling," you noted, your tone soft but teasing. "Are you nervous, Viktor?"

He managed a faint chuckle, though his voice betrayed him. "You have a way of... unbalancing me."

You smiled, your lips hovering just above his. "Good."

taglist. @xxblairslairxx @diffusebread @ekkosh @ash-84321 @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

banner. @anitalenia

[emeraldserenade]

Pretty Girl ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: Bob falls for Rooster's childhood best friend, you.

tw: fem!reader, reader is Merlin's daughter, suggestive, Rooster and reader are super close, barely edited

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Bob won the poll I did, this is my first story I've done for him so I hope I did him justice.

➽──────────────❥

You grew up with the Bradshaws, it came with the territory of being a Wells, your father being Merlin. He decided to stay close with them after Goose's death, and when you started hanging around it was a built in friend for Bradley.

He was already on the quieter side before Goose's death, but he completely retreated into his shell afterwards. You were outgoing and a little mean growing up, quick to chose Bradley as your best friend. Always the first to tell someone off when they tried to make fun of him for not having a dad and, in return, Bradley came out of shell. Over time, the two of you got so close that there was an ongoing bet to who would break first (answer is neither, sure you two had a crush on each other at some point but it is long since over).

You knew that Bradley was stateside, you heard it from Iceman but you didn’t want to interfere with his training. Then Iceman’s funeral happened and you didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to be faced with Maverick seeing a ghost in your best friend and wasted potential in you. But when Hondo sent the text that Bradley went down, you panicked. 

You waited anxiously at the training school, your fears and anxiety wracked through you. And then he was there, smiling and celebrating with everyone while you stood with your arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

Bob saw you before you saw him, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen standing only a few feet away and pissed off. He was about to ask around if someone was waiting on a lover when your voice broke through all the celebrations. 

“Bradley Bradshaw!” You shouted, everyone stopping to look at you. You pointedly only looked at your best friend, it was as if you two had a whole conversation with your eyes before your eyes shot over to Maverick. “Pete Mitchell,” you said it just as harshly but your voice lost the loudness in the quiet atmosphere. 

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” It was Maverick that spoke, disbelief coloring his voice. 

“Hondo texted me, told me you two were missing. Your mother is rolling in her grave right now, Bradley,” you directed the last part to him and he shrugged, trying to play it off. “Oh drop the tough boy act, I still have that video from high school,” you mused, raising your phone a fraction. 

“Ok, ok, no need for that,” Bradley rushed to you and you shoved your phone in your back pocket. Your conversation quieted down and everyone went back to their own. 

“Does Rooster have a girlfriend?” It was Natasha that spoke, her curiosity heightened. 

“If he does, it's not her,” it was Maverick that answered her. “That’s y/n Wells, Sam Wells’ daughter. His call sign was Merlin, he flew with me and Rooster’s father,” Maverick explained, his eyes trained on where you were smacking Bradley’s chest over and over again while he laughed and let you. “They grew up together, never seen two people closer that aren’t romantically involved,” Maverick added and as if you heard him, your head whipped up and over to him. Bradley directed you over to the group, wanting to introduce you to those he’s grown close to. The introductions went smoothly and you kept an easy smile on your face, one that Bob swore was the prettiest one he’ll ever see.

“Hangman? That sounds almost as bad as Rooster,” you mused as Bradley looked down at you in shock.

“Ouch, babe,” Bradley held a hand over his heart, and even though Maverick said you weren’t, it seemed like you two were dating. Bob looked between the two of you, his eyes finally settling on your smiling face. Bradley noticed, he always noticed when someone liked you, and always before you did.

"Get over it," you mused, pushing his arm a bit. "I just came to tell you off for scaring me," you turned your body to face Bradley, him doing the same. Your chests just barely grazing each other and your eyes roaming his face freely. "I'll see you later," you told him, taking a step back. "It was nice meeting you all!" You waved at them and walked away, your hair being blown gently by the wind.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The next time Bob saw you was at the Hard Deck, you were invited to their weekly hang out by Bradley. You were sat in a chair watching them play pool, a small smile gracing your face at how relaxed Bradley looked.

"So, Rooster, Sunny," the fake call sign the group gave you, on account for the ever present smile on your face, called your attention to Jake. "Mav said you two weren't dating, is he right?"

"Why do you care? You got the hots for her?" Bradley jabbed a finger in your direction.

"Why do you care if I do?" Jake squared up and you sighed.

"Boys," you exhaled, your disappointment lacing your tone. "Bradley and I are not now, nor have we ever been, romantically involved," you told the group and Bradley shrugged.

"There was the one night after prom," he said it so casually while you spluttered over your words before throwing the pillow from the chair you were sitting in at him.

"That was not romantic!" You finally settled on.

"It totally was! And the fact that you know which night I'm talking about proves it!" Bradley shot back, a little offended that you thought it wasn't.

"What's romantic about going to the skate park with friends only for me to eat shit and end up in the hospital needing stitches?" You countered, cheeks warm in embarrassment.

"The fact that you only wanted me there!"

"Because my options where you, my best friend of however many years, or creepy Todd."

"Creepy Todd?" Bob asked and you looked over at him, noting his crestfallen look.

"He was the super senior, we only hung out with him because he was old enough to buy alcohol, but he had this thing for me. He was super forward about it too," you told Bob, shuffling closer in hopes that you could figure out why he looked so sad.

"I'm just saying, you asking me to take you and then making me stay the night at your place was pretty romantic," Bradley redirected the conversation, causing you to groan and place your head on Bob's shoulder.

"I asked you to stay because my dad was on deployment and my mom was staying with my aunt for the night. Who else was going to help me change the bandages? Runo?" You looked at Bradley and he shrugged.

"I'm sure creepy Todd would have done all that," he mused.

"You're not letting this go, are you?"

"No because this was only 3 days after prom, you know, the dance I took you to," Bradley countered.

"Get over yourself, you did not take me. You went with Jordan Clare, you were just my ride," you leaned your head sidewise to rest it on Bob's shoulder.

"I'm still stuck on who Runo is," Natasha said and you realized the entire Dagger Squad was listening.

"Runo was my childhood dog, he was a big Belgian Malinois," you explained and she nodded once.

"I did take you, I hung out with you the whole night," Bradley was determined to get under Bob's skin, he was hopelessly in love with you and Bradley was determined to get you two together.

"That's completely different," you sighed. "Tell him it's different, Bobert," you picked your head to look at him. You were the only person who called him Bobert, you said it was a better nickname.

"That is different from taking her, Rooster," Bob agreed.

"You're taking her side? Where's the loyalty Bob?" Bradley had his smug smile on his face.

"All loyalty lies with me," you joked, pushing yourself closer to Bob. "And it's your turn," you pointed out, effectively ending the conversation. You noticed Bob still looked upset and pursed your lips. "Bob, what's wrong? You look upset," you questioned and he looked over at you.

"I'm just tired," he told you and you slowly nodded.

"Why not head home?"

"I'm not sure I want to go back to the quiet," Bob admitted.

"Oh, you could come home with me," you panicked the second it left your mouth. "Oh, I meant, not that, you know, it's just," you felt your cheeks warm as Bob's turned a nice shade of red. "I meant you can come over and we can watch a movie or something," you clarified, throughly embarrassed.

"Yeah, that, uh, that sounds nice," Bob nodded and you two got up.

"I'm just going to tell Bradley that I'm leaving," you told Bob and he nodded at you. "Hey, Bradley," you walked over to him while he was waiting on Jake to go.

"What's up babe?" Bradley looked down at you and you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

"I'm headed out," you watched him look at the pool table and back to you. "Bob's taking me," you added on, knowing where this was going.

"Oh, just so you're prepared. Bob has a huge," you pulled Bradley into a hug.

"If you do not stop, everyone here will see the video of you prancing around my house in a tutu while drunk," you whispered the threat into his ear. You pulled away with a smile, the prying eyes of the Dagger Squad burning to the two of you. "Bye, Bradley. I'll see you later," you waved at him as you walked away.

"Bye, babe! Love you!" He called after you and you hurried your pace as the tag chasers from the corner stared you down.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Why does Rooster call you babe?" Bob was spread out on your couch, you were practically laying on top of him.

"There was a time in high school that I liked him so I started calling him babe, he asked why and I lied saying that I was trying something new. I accidentally got him constantly saying it," you admitted, sighing as you got more comfortable half on top of Bob.

"You liked Rooster?"

"You try being constantly around someone you've known your whole life, trust with your life, while you both are going through puberty. He was the hottest man I knew at the time," you justified. "Plus, he liked me at some point so I'm sure that I was just returning the favor," you added on, pressing your face into Bob's shoulder. "You're deceivingly muscular," you mumbled, running your hand over his chest.

Bob spluttered for a moment but just wrapped his arm around you and turned his head towards your TV.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Bobert?" You called the attention of the man under you.

"Yes?" Bob fought the urge to called you sweetheart.

"I, uh," you lost most of the confidence you had when you called for his attention.

"Yes?" Bob urged you on.

"I like you, a lot," you mumbled, eyes focused on the TV.

"I like you, a lot, too, sweetheart," Bob assured you and you smiled before Bob kissed you. You settled back into his chest while you both turned back to the TV.

"Does this mean I can be your girl?" You asked.

"It does," Bob confirmed and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Good morning!" Bradley's voice jolted you awake and you realized you were still halfway on Bob on your couch.

"What time is it?" Bob muttered quietly, his face void of glasses.

"7am," Bradley supplied and you groaned and shoved your face into Bob's shoulder. "Seems you two got comfortable last night," Bradley was standing over the two of you.

"Leave or I will ride him right in front of you," you threatened and he looked grossed out.

"Alright, goodbye!" Bradley announced and you got off Bob, much to his dismay,

"Come back, there's no reason to be up this early," Bob said but you shook your head.

"My bed is more comfortable, come on," you held a hand out to Bob as he got up. He picked up his glasses from your coffee table and followed you to bed.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[sugurouge]

— nobody but you : getō suguru x f!reader

contains! — mdni: semi public sex, pussy spanking, humiliation, teasing, jealousy, pet names (love, darling, dear, needy girl & pretty girl), heavy marking — 1.8k words

summary: a petty display of jealousy over none other than Manami spoils you with unforeseen rewards

Anytime you see them together, it's a drag, almost as if you stop existing as soon as she’s around. You usually don't feel this insecure, but whenever she is involved—her and her stupid adoration for your partner—a switch flicks in your mind. Suddenly, her advice seems anything but professional, suddenly her eyes linger too long on Geto as well. And their act in front of his followers just seems wrong to your eyes.

Unfortunately you can't do much more but be a silly bystander. Watching his greatness and adoration while you feel like a nobody. You would do a better job at advising him, you conclude out of spite, as your arms fold in front of your chest. Geto can practically see the irritation radiating off your body at this point, yet somehow he loves it when you get like that.

But in your eyes it’s not fair having to witness their chemistry from across the room while you seem like yet another random face in the crowd, forced to remember the feeling of his hand against your back from only a moment ago. Yet here he is, standing a little too close to her for his usual distant behaviour. Who could blame you for the crease on your forehead, for the slight pout on your lips and glaring stares in her direction while she remains as 'flirtatious' as always—almost as if she had expertise at ignoring you?

Once this farce is finally over, you turn on your heels and swiftly leave for your chambers. Your mood is clearly soured, and that stupidly annoying chuckle that bounces off the walls of the hall doesn't help much to relieve it. Suguru’s hand returns to claim its reserved spot on your lower back, nails lightly digging into the rich fabric of the dress he got for you as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear.

“A smile suits you better,” Suguru muses, before his fingertips grasp your chin and force you to look at him. But not right now. Right now, you refuse his advances. A decision that brings one of his brows to arch, a sly smirk to spread on his lips.

Allow him to join your little play.

He follows you once more, but this time he decides to walk in silence. Upon the agonising stillness, your irritation seems to overflow. Your eyes eventually find their way over to his body—suspiciously gliding upwards until they meet his awaiting ones. The scowl on your face returns in a heartbeat while you nearly abuse the inside of your cheek. The entitled hmpf utterly princess-like of you. Giving Geto attitude is something you don’t do often; you’re usually confident in your relationship and his unique adoration for you.

And after agonising moments shared in silence, you are forced to realise how little he appreciates your childish behaviour. In one swift move, you're tugged off the main halls and find yourself pushed inside a room, caged between an icy cold wall and Geto's large frame. He leaves you no choice but to look at him, the proximity of your faces guiding your eyes to meet his slightly irritated gaze. The silence between you feels almost tranquil as Suguru refuses to make any further move on you—he’s always been patient.

But some silly devil on your shoulder convinces you to keep up with this farce. Refusing to address the elephant in the room, you instead banish any space between your bodies as you lean forward, finding purchase on his neck in mere seconds while your fingers are quick to ruin his perfectly styled attire in moments.

By now, Suguru can guess what exactly is going on in your head, and he is the last one to reject his needy girl whenever you get like this. So he allows you to kiss him, as long as you let him explore your body in return; with his curious fingertips sneaking beneath your dress, tracing over your outer thigh and firmly squeezing the soft flesh.

“What are you so jealous for?” Geto suddenly murmurs into your ear. His breath tickles your skin and sends shivers down your spine, effortlessly halting your advances upon your hesitation. The meek shake of your head feels safer than actually using words to answer, and a soft exhale clings to his neck like the arms wrapping around his shoulders—it’s a sweet effort to drench him in your scent.

Suguru won’t even attempt to hide his amusement, letting a deep chuckle vibrate against your figure. The warmth he shares contrasts with the cool touch of his fingertips, their goal in reach as they leave a chilly trail until they finally run over your panties, giving you no other option but to obediently buck your hips against his touch. He ghosts his exploration along your covered pussy; the faint touches leave your body hyper-attentive to his every move.

“You know that if it weren’t for these monkeys, I’d fuck you right in front of her, don’t you?”

The confession feeds your twisted ego, it causes a short-lived smile to decorate your face while you innocently nod against his neck, your staggered breathing exhaling in pathetic pants as your hip rolls against his fingers—chasing every bit of friction he offers.

But Geto pulls back and forces you to look into his eyes. Refusing to further spoil his rotten fruit. “Repeat it for me so I know you understand.” The request makes you hesitate, your eyes suddenly avoid his stare under which you grow timid. If it weren't for the warning spank to your pussy, which convinces you that speaking up might just be the best option right now.

“I know...” you admit quietly, and know it won't be enough for him.

“Continue.” His fingers push your panties aside, teasing you, spreading your arousal. Heavens, you're wet. You can hear yourself, can feel his thick fingers prodding at your entrance. “I know you would...” two fingers slowly push in, but that menacing smirk won't falter from Geto's face. A satisfied hum encourages you to keep going.

“I know, you would fuck me in front of her.”

He chuckles.

Geto won't even hide the entertainment you offer upon your own humiliation. But he is so sweet as well, how could you ever get enough? “That wasn't so hard now, was it, dear?” You practically suck him in, needy for his stimulation after he teased you for so long. Yet, as soon as you feel his knuckles push against your pussy, you just as quickly are to miss his delicious stretch. But who are you to complain if the soft circles drawn on your clit have you moan—loudly, at that.

In return, Geto rests his free hand on your nape and pulls you in, forehead resting against yours while he shame holds eye contact. “Make sure to be loud, pretty girl. Don't hold back.”

Yet, you can't help but shy away from his watchful eyes. Your lips ghost along the column of his throat again, still refraining from actually leaving hickeys. You’re well aware of him not appreciating public attention. Despite that, he is still yours. You want her to know.

“You desperately want to mark me, right?” He chuckles and presses his fingers close against your aching puffy lips. “Want her to know that I only love your pussy, that I only need you. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Your eyes roll in their sockets; it’s almost scary how much Suguru has perfected the art of reading your mind. A whispered “yes” rings through his ears, almost as loud as if you screamed the confession at him. You loosen the fabrics around his neck, the tip of your nose grazing his throat while you obediently wait for him to allow your next moves. His sweet peck on the crown of your hair leaves you nearly humming in pure bliss, especially once his kisses trail along your temple and cheekbone, arriving at your ear to combine the warm feeling of his whispers with his touches.

“Go ahead then…”

Your lips attack his skin, sucking deep patches of pink and red anywhere you can reach to mark him as yours. Geto groans, attempting to bite back his own moans upon the feeling of your lips and the growing pressure of his cock.

You gasp the minute he lands a sharp smack against your pussy, tensing beneath his touch as your nails dig into his skin. Painting the once pale canvas of his arms with streaks of red.

He didn't expect you to spread your legs further, offering his hand more room between your thighs.

His broad frame circles around your build protectively as his mouth remains close to your ear, offering you comfort even during moments like these. “You like it when I slap your pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you shamefully admit, your body practically begging in anticipation for his next spank. He hums in response, wet fingers now only ghosting over your thighs and pausing right before your swollen lips. “Do you want more?”

You nod, praying it will be enough to convince him.

“What was that?” he teases. Upon your hesitation, Geto withdraws his hand entirely. The whine that follows is like music to his ears. He’s glad you can’t see him grin.

“Spank me,” you murmur in defeat.

“I think you can ask more nicely, can’t you?” Oh, he enjoys seeing you annoyed—it's utterly entertaining whenever you try to refuse him. But your attitude breaks as the moment drags on.

A defeated plea of “Please, spank me,” gifts Geto utmost pleasure. Nothing compares to turning you into his desperate girl, his needy darling.

“How could I ever resist you?” he complies. Another rewarding slap meets your wet pussy, which has your legs jerk close around his hand before his fingers plunge into you once again.

Your back arches in response, tits now pressing against his chest while the squelching noises heighten thanks to the perfect movements of his fingers. Once he places his thumb onto your clit, you sigh in utmost pleasure. “Don't stop, please,” you beg ever so cutely as you hold onto him like your life depends on it.

“As if I could control myself when I’m with you,” Suguru mumbles, fingers curling inside your tightening walls to run along each ripple, hitting your sweet spots with each thrust. “Just like that, go on…” Suguru praises when your walls tighten around his fingers. His thumb adjusts your chin to tilt sideways, for his own lips to find a home on your sensitive neck and relentlessly stain your skin.

The tip of his tongue licks along your throat, lips sucking on your flesh, teeth biting nipping until you wail and your legs tremble. The delicate undertones of pride laced between his words of encouragement finally push you towards your release. “Come for me, pretty girl, let Manami hear how pretty you cry for me.”

The demand leaves your mind blank, taking away any shame you clung onto to let you moan his name instead. Your legs trap his hand between your thighs as your hips press against the resistance, pulsing walls holding his digits inside and drenching him with your slick. And just like that, you turn into his pretty mess, moaning so awfully seductive for him.

divider by @/cafekitsune + @/strangergraphics

[heliosunny]

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Phainon x reader

The rumors were true.

You stood in front of the large, polished machine, its sleek metallic surface reflecting the soft neon glow of the surrounding marketplace. The “Lucky Egg Dispenser” as it was called, had become something of a sensation overnight. A single pull of the trigger, and you’d receive an egg—an unhatched mystery promising the perfect partner. Most people spoke of rare creatures, companion animals with unique abilities, and even a few who whispered about something… stranger.

“Lucky egg?” you mused aloud, shifting the weight of the gun-like trigger in your grip. You’d always been one to try new things. It didn’t hurt to take a chance.

With a decisive motion, you squeezed the trigger.

A soft whirring sound filled the air before a pristine white egg gently rolled out, stopping perfectly at your feet. You crouched down, picking it up. Warm. Alive.

A small smile tugged at your lips. Taking care of it would be simple, you were no stranger to nurturing things. Three days. That was all it would take for it to hatch.

You weren’t worried in the slightest.

What you didn’t expect, however, was for your “partner” to be a human.

The egg hatched in the dead of night. A soft crackling sound stirred you from your sleep, but by the time you were fully awake, the shell had already split apart.

And there, sitting on your bed, was a boy.

No, not a boy, a young man, probably around your age.

Pale skin, silver-white hair that shimmered in the moonlight, and brilliant, otherworldly eyes. His clothes were odd, somewhere between regal and alien, but the most alarming thing was the wide, almost manic grin stretching across his face.

Before you could react, he lunged at you, arms wrapping around your torso in a crushing embrace.

“My name is Phainon!” he chirped, his voice filled with unfiltered joy. “I’m your partner now!”

Oh no...Your stomach dropped as realization set in.

Baby duck syndrome.

You knew the term well. When a newborn creature imprints on the first living being they see and attaches to them completely. You were that first living being.

And judging by the way Phainon’s grip tightened, as if he’d never let go, you had a feeling this wasn’t going to be as simple as you thought.

Phainon clung to you like a vice, his grip almost bruising as he buried his face into your neck. His breath was warm, uneven with excitement, and his entire body trembled, not with fear, but something far more intense.

“You’re mine” he whispered, his voice filled with unshakable certainty. “I belong to you… and you belong to me.”

This was bad. You tried to gently pry him off, but the moment you moved, his arms locked around you tighter, his fingers digging into your back as if he were afraid you’d disappear. His blue eyes, impossibly bright and alight with something unsettling, gazed up at you with an overwhelming adoration.

“Don’t push me away” Phainon begged “I just hatched… I need you.”

You swallowed, carefully adjusting your expression. “I-I’m not pushing you away. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

His gaze flickered with doubt before softening, though his grip didn’t loosen.

“I won’t let you leave me” he promised, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “I was born for you.”

You had really gotten yourself into trouble this time.

With Phainon practically glued to your side, you dragged him along to the dungeon. You needed supplies, and in this world, the only way to survive was by hunting monsters and trading points for food and goods. At the very least, you thought you could shake off some of his energy by keeping him occupied. What you didn’t expect was just how powerful he was.

The first monster barely had a chance to move before Phainon lunged, his bare hands tearing through it like paper. Blue eyes shimmered with an eerie thrill as he made quick work of the beasts around you. No hesitation. No struggle. Just raw, overwhelming strength. You stared, a mix of awe and unease settling in your gut.

“Phainon…” You hesitated as he turned to you, still grinning. “How do you know how to fight?”

He tilted his head, as if the question itself was strange. “I was born to protect you” he answered simply. “If anything dares to harm you, I’ll rip it apart.”

His words were spoken with such sincerity that it made your skin crawl. Still, you couldn’t deny the convenience. With him by your side, earning points was absurdly easy.

So you took him to the marketplace, trading in your earnings and buying him new clothes, something normal, something that would help him blend in.

But as you held up a shirt for him to try, he only stared at you with an unsettling softness.

“You take such good care of me…” He exhaled, stepping closer. “You really do love me.”

Your grip on the fabric tightened.

This was going to be a problem.

Even as you weaved through the marketplace, his fingers curled around your wrist, grip firm and unwavering. His blue eyes scanned the crowd with silent intensity, watching every passerby with something between wariness and irritation, as if anyone who so much as looked at you was a potential threat.

You sighed, trying to ignore it.

That was until someone called your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned, spotting an old friend making their way toward you, smiling. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Before you could respond, their gaze flickered to Phainon, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“…Oh? Who’s this?” they asked, raising an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t exactly say he came from an egg. That would sound insane. So, against your better judgment, you went along with it. “Uh, yeah. Something like that.”

Your friend chuckled. “I figured. He looks like he’d kill someone if they so much as breathed in your direction.”

You let out an awkward laugh, hoping they were joking.

Phainon, however, only smiled, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I would” he murmured, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Your friend’s laughter faltered.

Before the situation could get any worse, you quickly made your exit, dragging Phainon away.

When you finally got home, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “You can’t just say things like that, you know.”

Phainon tilted his head. “But it’s true.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing a meal. The sound of chopping and sizzling filled the space, and for a moment, things felt… normal.

But you could still feel Phainon’s admiring gaze on you.

When you finally placed a plate in front of him, his eyes softened.

“You take such good care of me” he murmured.

You forced a small smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just eat.”

But as you turned away, his voice reached you again, quiet, almost innocent.

“You really do love me, don’t you?”

This was getting worse by the second.

The next morning, Phainon was already awake before you, sitting at the edge of your bed, watching you with silent fascination. You ignored the unsettling feeling that came with knowing he had likely been staring at you for a while.

“We’re going out!” you said, stretching. “I need to figure out what you’re actually capable of.”

His expression brightened. “You’re thinking about me first thing in the morning?” His voice was honeyed, pleased. “That makes me happy.”

You sighed. “Just get ready.”

Despite his odd behavior, you needed to assess his skills properly. Yesterday’s display of strength was impressive, but you weren’t sure if he had magic abilities as well. If he was going to fight alongside you, he needed the right weapon.

So, you took him to a well-known weapon shop in the city.

The place was stocked with everything—swords, spears, enchanted items, and magic-infused equipment. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow at Phainon as he trailed closely behind you, practically glued to your side.

“A new recruit?” they asked.

You hesitated before nodding. “Something like that. I need to test his capabilities and get him a sword.”

Phainon didn’t seem too interested in the conversation. Instead, his attention remained locked onto you, his fingers subtly brushing against your arm as if to remind himself that you were still there.

The shopkeeper guided you both to the testing grounds in the back.

Phainon barely glanced at the weapons lined up for testing. Instead, he turned to you, expectant.

“Choose one for me” he said.

You blinked. “Why? You should pick what feels right.”

He smiled “I want your choice. Something that reminds you of me.”

You hesitated, but eventually, you picked a sword. When you handed it to him, he held it as if it were sacred, his fingers running over the hilt with reverence. Then, he turned toward the practice dummy and swung. The air itself seemed to hum as the blade sliced cleanly through, the force of his strike strong enough to split the dummy in two. You barely had time to react before the lingering energy from his swing crackled, a faint shimmer of magic lacing through the air.

So he did have magic.

The shopkeeper let out a low whistle. “That’s some terrifying raw talent.”

Phainon ignored them, stepping closer to you, lifting the sword slightly.

“Do you like it?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “It suits you.”

His eyes softened, a quiet sort of delight settling in his expression. “Then I’ll treasure it forever.”

It wasn’t about the sword. It was about the fact that you were the one who gave it to him.

Going into the dungeon with Phainon was like having a high-level DPS at your side. You barely had to lift a finger.

With every swing of his sword, monsters fell instantly, torn apart before they could even react. His raw strength was unmatched, his movements precise and brutal, and his magic crackled through the air with every strike. All you had to do was keep him healed.

Whenever he took a hit, rare as it was, you were there, casting healing spells or applying potions before he could even flinch. It was almost effortless, and the way he looked at you every time you healed him sent a strange chill down your spine.

“You always take care of me” he murmured, after you placed a hand on his arm to patch up a small wound. His blue eyes burned with something unreadable. “It makes me love you even more.”

You pretended not to hear him.

By the end of the run, you had racked up an absurd amount of points. It was more than you’d ever earned in a single trip. But as you left the dungeon, your path was blocked. A group of men stood in front of you, their expressions dark with anger.

“You!” one of them spat, eyes locked on you. “That was our dungeon route. You took our points.”

You stiffened. You had heard of people like this before, territorial dungeon crawlers who claimed certain areas as their own, even though the dungeons were free for all. Phainon, however, only tilted his head, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“Move” he said simply.

The men sneered. “Or what?”

Phainon smiled. And then, in the blink of an eye, he moved.

You barely saw it happen. One second, the men were standing tall, and the next, they were on the ground, groaning, writhing, clutching broken limbs. Phainon hadn’t even drawn his sword. He had simply crushed them with his bare hands. You felt the blood drain from your face as he turned back to you, expression calm, as if nothing had happened.

“You don’t need to worry about them” he stepped close to you, his voice almost soothing. “I’ll always protect you.”

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin.

“You’ll never need anyone else.”

You weren’t the only one who noticed Phainon’s strength.

Word spread fast in the city. A newcomer, practically fresh out of nowhere, tearing through dungeons with monstrous efficiency? It was bound to catch attention.

When you returned to the marketplace, a group of uniformed individuals was waiting for you. Their armor bore the insignia of the Adventurer’s Guild, the organization that oversaw dungeon crawlers and regulated combat prowess.

One of them, a woman with sharp eyes, stepped forward. “We’ve received reports about you” she said, looking Phainon up and down. “Your combat abilities are… unusual.”

Phainon didn’t respond. He didn’t even blink.

The woman continued, unfazed. “We’d like to evaluate your rank. If you’re as strong as people claim, you should be registered with the guild.”

You hesitated, then glanced at Phainon. “It’s up to you” you said casually. “You can decide for yourself.”

His reaction was immediate. His blue eyes snapped to yours, wide with something unreadable. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if suppressing an impulse.

For the first time since you met him, Phainon looked… lost.

“You’re letting me decide?” he murmured, almost as if the concept itself was foreign to him. His voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of something dangerous beneath it.

The guild members watched the exchange, waiting for an answer.

Then, without warning, Phainon grabbed your wrist. His grip was firm but not painful—more like an anchor, something grounding him.

“I don’t need them!” he said, his eyes darkening. “I don’t need a rank. I don’t need recognition. I only need you.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Phainon...”

But he wasn’t listening. His fingers tightened ever so slightly, as if reassuring himself that you were still there, still his.

“I’ll prove it” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’ll see… I don’t need anything else.”

The woman from the guild frowned. “Refusing to register might cause problems later. If you change your mind, come to the guild hall.” She gave you a lingering look before turning away, leading her team elsewhere.

Once they were gone, you exhaled, glancing down at your guild-issued device. You hadn’t checked Phainon’s stats since he hatched. Opening the interface, your breath caught in your throat. His level had skyrocketed. It wasn’t just growth, it was unnatural. No one leveled up this fast. Slowly, you looked up at him, finding him already staring at you.

His lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. “You’re looking at me differently” he murmured. “Are you finally realizing it?”

Realizing what?

Phainon wasn’t just strong. He was something else.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Phainon’s level growth wasn’t just unnatural, it was impossible. Even the most elite adventurers took years to reach his current strength, yet he had done it in mere days. And his reaction when you let him decide for himself… the way he clung to you, as if the very idea of autonomy was foreign to him… Something wasn’t right.

That night, while Phainon sat contentedly by the fireplace, watching you with that ever-present devotion, you busied yourself with research.

You poured through old adventurer logs, ancient texts, and anything that might explain the anomaly that was him. But no record of a “lucky egg” spawning a human existed. Every instance of the machine had resulted in creatures—beasts, familiars, magical companions. Never a person. Then, deep within an old archive, you found something.

A passage detailing an experiment.

“In pursuit of the perfect companion, scholars once sought to craft an entity bound by absolute devotion. A being that would imprint upon the first soul it encountered, instinctively prioritizing their happiness and survival above all else. However, these creations proved unstable—obsessive, possessive, and far too powerful. The project was ultimately abandoned, all records sealed away.”

Your gaze flickered toward Phainon.

His blue eyes gleamed in the firelight, calm and unreadable as he met your stare.

“You’re looking at me like that again”

“Phainon…” You swallowed. “What are you?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer.

Then, slowly, he rose from his seat, walking toward you with measured steps. When he reached you, he knelt—his head resting against your lap, his arms wrapping around you in a loose embrace.

“I don’t know” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But does it matter?”

He tilted his head, pressing closer, his warmth seeping into you.

“All I know is that I belong to you” he murmured, smiling softly. “And that’s the only truth I need.”

Your fingers trembled against the pages of the book.

This was worse than you thought.

Phainon wasn’t just obsessed.

He was made to be.

[rabbitinashell]

Here is the 'next thing' I was talking abt, and don't beat me with your slippers, and some kind anon told me the artist of the art: @/tappeee on X(previously Twitter)

The moment the door shut behind you, a shiver ran down your spine. Not from fear—no, not quite. It was the weight of their presence, the realization that you were utterly at their mercy.

Mydei was the first to step forward, the low click of his boots against the floor setting a rhythm that made your breath hitch. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze—sharp, calculating, burning with something far more dangerous than simple desire.

“You walked in here willingly,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “How bold.”

Behind you, Phainon moved just as smoothly, his presence a shadow curling around you, inevitable and inescapable. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear, his voice softer but no less commanding. “Do you understand what that means, little one?”

Your lips parted, but no words came. Mydei chuckled, low and indulgent, as if your silence pleased him more than any answer you could give. His grip on your chin tightened, just enough to keep you still. “She doesn’t. Not yet.”

Phainon’s fingers traced down your spine, deliberate, slow. “Then we’ll make sure she learns.”

Your body tensed between them, caught in the heat of their attention, in the space where control had never been yours to begin with. Mydei didn’t rush. He wanted you to feel it—the weight of anticipation, the awareness of just how helpless you were against them. Phainon, ever patient, let his fingers ghost over your skin, coaxing a shudder, a gasp, a reaction he would undoubtedly use against you later.

“You’re trembling already,” Mydei noted, tilting his head as if studying you. “Did you think we’d be gentle?”

Phainon’s chuckle was dark, edged with something almost cruel. “Poor thing. She still thinks she has a choice.”

The realization struck in full force then, the full scope of what it meant to be here, between them. They weren’t merely going to take you. They were going to ruin you, piece by piece, until you forgot what it even meant to resist.

And the worst part? You didn’t want to fight it.

Mydei’s fingers trailed down your throat, pressing just enough to remind you who was in control. His smirk deepened when your pulse leaped beneath his touch. “Good,” he murmured. “Let’s begin.”

Phainon’s grip tightened at your waist, pulling you back against him, his breath hot against the side of your neck. "No need to hold back," he whispered, his fingers dancing over your skin with an unbearable slowness. "We want to hear every sound you make."

Mydei’s lips curled as he watched the way your body responded, the sharp intake of breath, the way your hands clenched as if trying to grasp onto something—anything—to ground yourself. "Already at a loss for control?" His voice was laced with cruel amusement. "You’re proving to be quite the quick learner."

Phainon’s chuckle rumbled against your back, his fingers tracing idle patterns that sent shivers racing down your spine. "She’ll break beautifully," he mused, pressing a lingering kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. "Won’t you, little one?"

Mydei’s fingers brushed lower, teasing, testing, ensuring that every breath you took was shallow, every thought clouded with anticipation. "But breaking you isn’t enough," he murmured, voice silk over steel. "We’ll rebuild you—piece by piece—until the only thing left is what we want you to be."

Phainon smirked, tilting your head back against his shoulder, eyes glinting with something dangerously satisfied. "And you’ll thank us for it. Eventually."

They didn’t rush. They took their time unraveling you, stripping away every defense until you had no choice but to yield completely. Mydei’s grip was firm, guiding, making sure you knew exactly where you belonged. Phainon, ever patient, let the torment drag out, ensuring that each touch, each whisper, embedded itself deep within you.

When your knees finally gave out, it was Mydei who caught you, holding you in place as Phainon traced a possessive hand along your jaw. "See? That wasn’t so hard," Phainon murmured, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Now, let’s see how much further we can take you."

The door remained shut, the world outside forgotten. You were theirs now—there was no escape, no resistance left. Only the inevitable descent into their hands.

[evnseokz]

꒰ ☆ mine to ruin ~ l.hs ꒱

pairing: heeseung x f.reader

contents: inexperienced reader, teacher heeseung, fingering, oral (f), dirty talk, praise kink, corruption kink, pet name baby, i think that’s all

w.c 1.5k

MINORS DNI

you had always been curious.

the thought of intimacy, of pleasure, of giving yourself to someone—it had lingered in the back of your mind for so long, but you had never acted on it. never let anyone touch you like that.

until heeseung.

he was different. confident, patient, and so incredibly alluring that you couldn’t ignore the pull you felt toward him. maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his voice dropped when he spoke about things that made your skin flush.

or maybe it was the fact that he knew—he knew you were inexperienced, untouched, and he reveled in it.

“are you sure about this?” his voice was soft, but the dark glint in his eyes told a different story.

you nodded, swallowing hard. “i want you to teach me.”

a slow smirk curled his lips. “alright, baby. but once we start, i’m not stopping until i’ve had my fill of you.”

your breath hitched as he leaned in, his hands resting on your thighs. his fingers traced soft circles, barely touching, teasing, making you squirm before he even started.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your neck. “to be the first one to touch you. to show you everything.”

your thighs clenched together at his words, and he chuckled, feeling the subtle movement.

“you’re already reacting so much,” he mused, sliding a hand between your legs. “so sensitive.”

a soft gasp left your lips as his fingers trailed over your clothed core, applying the lightest pressure. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you whimper.

“tell me, baby,” heeseung whispered, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “have you ever touched yourself before?”

you hesitated, heat rushing to your face. “n-not really…”

he groaned. “fuck, you’re driving me crazy.”

with one swift motion, he pushed you back onto the bed, settling between your legs. his fingers worked at the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your heart pounded in your chest as he took in the sight of you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, running a hand up your thigh. “and you’re all mine to ruin.”

his fingers ghosted over your entrance, just barely dipping in before pulling away, making you whine.

“so eager,” he chuckled. “but i want to hear you say it. tell me what you want.”

you bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and need. “i… i want you to touch me.”

he smirked, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “good girl.”

without another word, he slid a finger inside you, slow and deliberate. your body tensed at the unfamiliar sensation, but the slight discomfort quickly faded into something new—something warm and overwhelming.

“relax, baby,” he soothed, moving his finger in and out, letting you adjust. “you feel so fucking tight.”

a whimper escaped your lips, and he added a second finger, stretching you open. his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles that had you gasping.

“that’s it,” he cooed, watching as your body responded to him. “let yourself feel it.”

your hips began to move on their own, chasing the friction of his touch. heeseung groaned at the sight, his fingers curling just right, pressing against that sweet spot that made your back arch.

“fuck, heeseung—”

he smirked. “that’s it, baby. let me hear you.”

his fingers worked faster, his lips trailing down your stomach before he settled between your thighs. you barely had time to process before his tongue replaced his fingers, licking a slow, teasing stripe through your wetness.

a strangled moan left your lips, your hands flying to his hair, fingers twisting in the dark strands as he devoured you.

his tongue flicked over your clit, his fingers still working inside you, and the combination had your entire body trembling.

“you taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned against you, the vibrations sending a shiver down your spine. “you were made for this, baby.”

you were already so close, the unfamiliar pressure building in your core. “heeseung—i think—”

“i know,” he murmured, sucking your clit into his mouth. “let go for me, baby. come for me.”

the moment the words left his mouth, you fell apart. your whole body tensed, pleasure washing over you in waves as you cried out his name.

heeseung didn’t stop, his tongue lapping up everything you gave him, prolonging your high until you were left panting, legs shaking.

heeseung pulled away slowly, his fingers leaving you empty, and you whimpered at the loss. he smirked, wiping his chin with the back of his hand as he looked down at you—completely wrecked, your legs still trembling, your chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“you did so well, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh.

your half-lidded eyes met his, and you reached for him, still lost in the haze of pleasure. “heeseung… i want more.”

his smirk deepened, but he shook his head, running a soothing hand over your hip. “i know you’re eager, sweetheart. but this is enough for today’s lesson.”

you pouted, shifting beneath him, but he only chuckled, brushing his fingers over your swollen, overstimulated core just enough to make you jolt.

“see? you’re already so sensitive,” he teased. “i want to take my time with you. make sure you learn everything properly.”

your cheeks burned at his words, and he leaned in, kissing the corner of your lips. “next time, baby,” he whispered. “i’ll teach you even more.”

with that, he pulled you into his arms, letting you rest against his chest as his fingers traced lazy circles over your skin.

…

..

.

[xcaptainhannax]

Good For You (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Plot: Bucky prefers to keep your relationship in the shadows, but when you test his patience by dressing up for a night out, he reminds you exactly who you belong to.

Warnings: mild suggestive, bucky in itself should be a warning

A/N: heavily inspired in selena's good for you song.

The room is warm, thick with the scent of Bucky’s cologne and the faint trace of your perfume. You stand in front of the mirror, adjusting the slip of silk hugging your body, fingertips smoothing over the fabric that clings in all the right places.

Bucky watches from the shadows, leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tight you think it might snap. His stare is a heavy weight on your body, burning hot where his eyes linger.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Just watches.

Then, finally—

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?”

The edge in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

You smirk at him through the mirror, tilting your head just enough to let your hair slip over one shoulder, exposing the delicate curve of your neck. You know what you’re doing. Of course you know.

“I don’t know,” you muse, running your hands down the sides of the dress, just to watch his gaze darken. “Thought I’d grab a drink. Maybe dance a little.”

His metal fingers twitch.

“Dance with who?”

You turn slowly, facing him fully now. “Does it matter?”

Bucky’s jaw ticks.

You take a step closer, then another, eating up the distance between you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him in waves.

He’s jealous.

Good.

“You don’t own me, Barnes,” you murmur, tilting your chin up just a fraction. Challenging him.

Bucky exhales through his nose, his breath coming slower now, heavier. Then he steps forward, closing the last bit of space between you. The air shifts, thickens, crackles like something about to explode.

“Oh, but I do, doll.”

His hands find your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. His grip is possessive, a silent claim, as if to say you’re mine and you fucking know it.

He leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You want to dance?” His voice is rough, teasing, dripping with something dangerous. “Go ahead. But if someone so much as looks at you the way I do, I’m putting a bullet in their knee.”

A thrill shoots down your spine. “Jealous, James?”

His fingers tighten. “Jealous? No.” His lips ghost along your throat, trailing lower, leaving just enough space between them and your skin to make you ache.

“I just don’t like sharing.”

Your breath hitches.

And then his mouth finally presses against your neck, slow and deliberate, his stubble scraping against the delicate skin as his lips part and his teeth graze—

Your knees almost buckle.

“You wore this for me,” he murmurs against your skin, smug as hell. “Didn’t you?”

You don’t answer, but you don’t have to. He already knows.

Bucky presses you back against the dresser, his hands roaming now, tracing the curves of your waist, slipping over the smooth silk of your dress like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“Tell me, doll,” he says, voice all low and dangerous now. “Still wanna go out?”

You don’t.

Not when he looks at you like that.

Not when his hands are sliding under the hem of your dress, gripping your thighs, pulling you closer, pressing you right against the heat of him—

You shake your head, breathless.

Bucky smirks.

“That’s what I thought.”

And when he kisses you—finally kisses you—it’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s hunger and possession and you’re mine all wrapped into one.

And you don’t think about anything else.

Not the bar. Not the dress.

Just him.

Always him.

[digitaldaydreamm]

PLSPSLSPSLPDLS GIVE US THE PART 3 PSLPSS FKKFJFJF I CANNOT WAIT ANY MONGERRTHFJXJCH😭 (btw this- I’m crazy alr but pls do take care of urself but PLSPSLDPS update quick ily)

anything for u <3

unspoken claim

rafe x childhood friend!reader

| summary | rafe can't hold back any longer...

warnings: suggestive, mentions of oral

a/n: third (and final) part is hereeee!!! i will obviously continue writing for this pair, i just don't plan on making this a series as of right now. keep sending me your thoughts, comments and ideas about rafe x reader (or anything else)! i love reading everything you send <3

part 1 part 2 masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

The familiar scent of your room—vanilla and faint traces of your shampoo—lingered in the air, but it wasn’t the same.

Not with him here.

Rafe sat at the foot of your bed, one arm draped lazily over his knee, the other tapping slow, deliberate patterns against the comforter. He hadn’t said much since coming over, just watching you with the same unreadable expression that had been throwing you off all night.

And you knew why.

Because it was the first time he’d been in your room since it happened.

Since he had pressed you into this very mattress and torn you apart with his mouth, his hands holding you down, his voice coaxing out every little sound he wanted to hear.

You shifted, tugging your sleeves over your fingers, pretending you weren’t hyper-aware of it—of him.

But Rafe wasn’t pretending.

“You been avoiding me?”

Your stomach twisted.

“No.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You sure?”

You forced yourself to look at him.

“I let you in my house, didn’t I?”

That amused him.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “But you won’t come near me.”

Your breath hitched as he reached out, fingers curling around your ankle, tugging you just enough that you lost balance and had to catch yourself against the bed.

“Rafe—”

“What?” he murmured, tilting his head. “You nervous?”

“No.”

His hand moved, fingers tracing the exposed skin just above your sock.

Your breath caught.

He noticed.

Rafe hummed, thumb brushing back and forth absentmindedly.

“You think about it?”

You knew what he meant.

Your heart pounded. “I—”

“Because I do.”

The words sent a sharp current through your spine.

You swallowed, fingers curling against the comforter.

His grip on your leg tightened, like he could feel you squirming before you even moved.

“I think about how fuckin’ sweet you sounded,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “How good you tasted.”

Your breath faltered.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his free hand dragging up your thigh, stopping just beneath the hem of your shorts.

“Bet you touched yourself after,” he mused, smirking when you sucked in a sharp breath. “Didn’t you?”

Your stomach twisted, shame curling in your chest because you had.

And Rafe could see it on your face.

His smirk deepened.

“You did,” he murmured, pleased.

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t deny it.

And that was enough for him.

Rafe exhaled sharply, fingers gripping your thigh, dragging you closer—slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation coil tight in your stomach.

“You wanna know what I think?” His voice was lower now, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed. “What?”

His nose skimmed the side of your jaw, lips ghosting over your skin as he whispered:

“I think you want me to do it again.”

Your breath stuttered.

Rafe chuckled softly, his hands pressing firmer against you.

“You just don’t know how to ask.”

His words clung to the air between you, thick and charged, sending heat crawling up your neck.

You should’ve pushed him away.

You should’ve said something.

But you didn’t.

Because he was right.

And when his fingers squeezed your thigh, pulling you even closer, when his lips brushed the shell of your ear like he was waiting for you to crack—your resolve crumbled.

Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Rafe—”

“Mm?”

His hands traced slow, lazy circles into your skin, but you could feel the restraint in them, the tension in his grip like he was holding himself back.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, his lips dragging down the side of your jaw. “What do you want?”

Your stomach twisted, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

He wanted you to say it.

To admit that you had thought about it. That you had wanted it again.

But the words tangled in your throat.

And Rafe—impatient, dominant, so fucking sure—was already reading you like a book.

His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“C’mon, kid,” he murmured. “Use your big girl words.”

Your breath caught.

Heat flared across your cheeks, a sharp mixture of embarrassment and something else—something that made your thighs press together.

Rafe saw.

And he fucking smirked.

“Yeah?” he mused, dragging his thumb across your lip, voice low, teasing. “That what you want?”

Your stomach flipped.

"Please..." you nodded meekly.

His hand trailed down, fingers ghosting over your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath stutter.

“You want me to ruin you again?”

Your entire body tensed.

Rafe let the question settle, his grip tightening slightly.

Then, softly, coaxingly:

“Say it.”

You hesitated, but the words were already forming before you could stop them.

“…I want it.”

Rafe hummed, pleased.

His fingers traced slow, deliberate lines down your stomach, making you squirm, making you ache.

“That’s my girl.”

Rafe’s hand was warm against your jaw, his touch firm but not forceful. He was looking at you like he was trying to read your mind, like he was trying to carve his way into your thoughts before you could shut him out again.

“You’re not gonna pretend this didn’t happen,” he said, voice low. “Not this time.”

Your throat felt tight.

“I just—” You hesitated, heart pounding. “I don’t want things to change.”

Rafe let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening just slightly. “They already have.”

You swallowed hard, not sure how to respond to that.

His hand drifted down, fingers brushing your throat before settling against the pulse point at your neck. He could feel how fast your heart was beating. He probably knew how nervous you were.

“I can’t go back to before,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I can’t fucking hold myself back anymore.”

Your stomach flipped.

You bit your lip, hesitant. “Rafe—”

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he cut you off, gaze sharp. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

You hesitated.

Because you couldn’t.

You did want this.

You didn’t know what it meant, what it would change, but you wanted him. And you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

You exhaled, chest tight. “I don’t know how.”

Rafe stilled.

You weren’t sure what made you say it, but the words just slipped out, quiet and unsure.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never—”

You bit your lip, looking down.

Rafe’s grip softened, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “I know.”

Your stomach twisted.

You didn’t know why it made you so nervous, admitting it out loud. But Rafe wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t making a big deal about it. He just… knew.

And that somehow made it worse.

“I—” You hesitated, swallowing hard. “I’ve never even—”

But you didn’t need to finish the sentence.

Rafe’s fingers tilted your chin up, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Your breath caught.

“Then let me,” he murmured.

Your pulse raced.

Your lips parted slightly, unsure. Hesitant.

But when he leaned in, slow and sure, when his lips brushed yours—your mind emptied.

Rafe kissed you like he had been waiting for it. Like he had been holding back for too long. Like he wasn’t going to let you run from this.

His lips were soft, warm, and when he deepened it, when his hand slipped to the back of your neck, holding you there—your body melted into his.

It wasn’t just your first kiss. It was a shift. A line you couldn’t uncross.

And when he finally pulled back, just barely, his forehead resting against yours, his voice was quiet but sure.

“No more pretending.”

[14dayswithyou]

This Angel has another question! \o

What's it like taking a bath with RENACTED?

✦゜ANSWERED: Hell on earth T_T he takes up soooo much room and won't give you a moment to yourself dshjgjds /silly

cw: It gets NSFW towards the end!! MDNI!

"Think we need more bubbles?"

When you're met with nothing but silence, you look up from your bubble sculpture to see your partner sporting an all too familiar pout on their face. His tattooed arms were crossed over his bare chest like he wanted to prove a point — and as if to fully emphasize their current disdain; Ren turns his head away the moment you make eye contact.

You couldn't help but let out a puff of laughter at the silliness of it all.

"Why are you pouting?" You nudge their leg with your own. "What's wrong?"

"...Why are you all th'way over there?"

'Over there', being on the opposite side of the tub from your beloved boyfriend. Which... didn't make much sense now that you thought about it, seeing as he was the one who (silently) volunteered to take the side with the faucet and drain, which left you with all the space and legroom your heart could desire. Though... it wasn't much, given how massive of a mountain your partner was. Ren was all long, lanky limbs and thick muscle; but it wasn't exactly evident with all the baggy clothing they often chose to wear.

In an attempt to make your beloved hacker feel better about the (albeit childish) situation, you carefully scoot over so that you were resting against one of their legs instead of the tub. But apparently, Ren still wanted more, as a familiar tattooed arm emerges from the water the moment you draw closer and silently beckons you to join him at his side. When you accept — in what world would you ever say no to him and that trademark frown? — Ren pulls you flush against his chest with a content sigh.

They were acting like the cat who got the cream, no doubt.

You barely have a moment to adjust to your new position before you feel Ren's arms wrap around your waist, and his chin finds its place atop your shoulder. Now, your hacker has the perfect view of you rebuilding your bubble castle once more — only this time, you were right where he wanted you.

"There." Your tone is laced with something mirthful and lively as you lean into his embrace. "Is this better?

"Much."

"Just make sure you don't fall asleep. Elanor told me that it's not safe to do that." You purposefully ignore how their arms tense up at the mention of your coworker. However, you don't miss how they dip further under the water to run along the inside of your thighs instead.

Ren's real name slips from your lips in warning. You knew exactly what he was trying to do right now. Their hands were ghosting dangerously close to your—

"...'M not doing anything."

"Liar, I can feel you— Ah!"

His fingers casually brush past your most sensitive part, and it has you flinging your head back and clutching onto his forearm. From that reaction alone, you can hear Ren let out a curious hum from behind as their hand moves back to your sex once more.

"Just making sure you're all nice 'n clean down there."

"I-I somehow doubt that..."

"Isn't that the point of baths? T'get clean?" He muses, voice ghosting along the shell of your ear. "...Why were you talking to your coworker about taking baths in the first place, anyway?"

One of the rubber frogs you added ('for ambience!' you recall telling your boyfriend) innocently floats past, and you had half a mind to reach out and turn its gaze away from the intimate scene. Ren still had one hand firmly placed around your stomach to keep you steady while the other was shamelessly running up and down your—

"...Think I'm gonna need to do a thorough inspection. Bend over the tub f'me?"

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Food for thought: imagine lion!mydei with a prey reader!!! Yk, toss in some dub con and predator/ prey dynamics 🤭. Oh, the way us floofy ears would twitch and his tail would wrap around your leg!!

I'm absolutely convinced mydei is 10000% mean man when it's between the sheets.

Have a good day/night <3. I rlly luv your works and what's your secret to writing rlly good smut? Teach me your ways professor!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, bunny fem!reader, creampie, multiple of rounds, spanking, size kink, breeding kink, biting, huge dubcon alert, multiple of orgasms and tit slapping and other stuff. ^.^

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 note : tysm! i’m glad you enjoyed my writing sweetie. And I don’t really have a secret lmao! i’ve been writing long stories ever since I was 11. also reader is implied to be chubby and curvy! also not proof read (as always).

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

You should have noticed it earlier—the way the birds had stopped singing, the way the wind had died down as if holding its breath. But you were a bunny, and a very stupid one at that. Soft and slow and terribly, terribly unaware.

That was why you didn’t realize you were being hunted until it was far too late.

A branch cracked. Your ears twitched, your breath hitched, and then—

A massive force slammed into you from behind, knocking you down into the dirt. Your heart pounded as you scrambled to flee, but it was useless. Large, clawed hands pinned you down, pressing your softer, squishier body into the earth. A deep, rumbling growl ghosted over the shell of your ear, and your instincts screamed.

Predator.

Your body locked up in fear, trembling beneath the sheer weight of the beast above you. You had heard the stories of the lion-king before—the ruthless ruler of the wilds, the monster who tore through his prey with teeth and claw. And yet, when he dipped his head, sniffing along the side of your neck, he didn’t bite.

He inhaled. Deeply.

And then, to your absolute horror, he groaned.

“Fuck,” the lion rumbled, his voice thick, heated, laced with something primal. His heavy tail coiled around your thigh, holding you in place. His hips rolled against yours, and you felt it—the thick, hard shape of him pressing against your ass. “You smell too sweet to eat, little rabbit.”

His tongue flicked out, running a slow, wet trail up your throat. You shuddered, trying to shrink away, but his hands only gripped you tighter, claws grazing against your skin.

“You’re lucky,” Mydei murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Your breath hitched when he grinded against you again, slow and deliberate, letting you feel just how big he was. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly despite the fear still prickling at your spine. His hand moved, fingers dragging down your stomach, teasing at the plush softness there before dipping lower.

“Gonna ruin this dumb little bunny cunt,” he growled. “Make you scream for me.”

You whimpered, but there was no escape.

The lion had caught his prey. And he wasn’t letting go.

A rough hand forced your back into an arch, making you whimper as your ass lifted higher. Mydei chuckled, low and dark, his heavy tail coiling tighter around your plush thigh. The fur was deceptively soft against your skin, a contrast to the ruthless grip he had on you.

“Look at this,” he murmured, his large palm sliding over your hips, groping the softest parts of you like he was testing his prize. “Built to be fucked. You were never meant to run, little thing—just to be caught.”

A sharp smack landed across your ass. You yelped, lurching forward, but he dragged you back with ease. Another slap—harder this time—sent a hot sting rippling through your body, making your legs twitch. Your fluffy tail twitched too, betraying you, and he laughed.

“Sensitive,” he mused, palming your sore flesh before delivering another punishing slap. “You get wet from this, don’t you?”

You shook your head, ears flopping as you whimpered, but you both knew the truth. His fingers slid lower, past the heat pooling between your thighs, and—fuck—he found you already slick.

“Stupid little thing,” he purred, rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit. “What kind of prey gets wet for their predator?”

You gasped as he slid a thick finger into you, then another, stretching you open in cruel, lazy strokes. Your walls fluttered, trying to take him deeper, trying to milk something that wasn’t even inside you yet. Mydei groaned, nosing against the base of your fluffy ears, dragging his teeth lightly along them.

“Bet you’ll take my cock just as easy,” he murmured. “Gonna make you mine. Stuff you so full, you’ll never be able to run again.”

Your thighs trembled as he pulled his fingers away, leaving you empty and aching. Then—something hotter, heavier, pressed against your entrance. You gasped at the sheer size of it, instinct screaming again, but his tail tightened around your thigh, holding you still.

“You’re made for this,” Mydei rasped, rubbing the thick head of his cock against your slick folds. “Made to take my seed, to be bred nice and full.”

He thrust in, stretching your pussy open, forcing a ragged cry from your throat. Your fingers clawed at the dirt, your ears pressing flat against your head as your walls clenched around him, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him.

"That’s it," he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising. “Gonna make you all mine, little thing.”

And with another rough thrust, he set a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each thrust was brutal, knocking you forward only for Mydei to yank you back onto his cock, forcing you to take him deep. Your plush thighs shook, your body burning with overstimulation, but he didn’t let up.

“Ngh—too much—” you gasped, voice breaking between ragged moans. Your ears twitched wildly with each slam of his hips, your tail fluffing up in distress.

“Too much?” Mydei echoed, voice dripping with mockery. His claws dragged down your sides before settling on your tits, gripping them roughly, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. “You’re dripping all over my cock, little thing. You love this.”

You whined as he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before slapping your tits, making them bounce from the impact. Your body betrayed you—each slap sent a fresh pulse of heat straight to your core, making your walls clamp down even tighter around him.

"Fuck," he growled, his tail curling possessively around your thigh. “Look at you. Dumb little prey, taking my cock so well. Taking it like you were made for it.”

Your arms gave out, leaving you to slump forward onto your elbows, tits pressing into the dirt. Mydei loomed over you, his golden mane brushing against your back as he fucked you harder, deeper, his breath hot against your nape.

"You’re mine," he groaned, one clawed hand gripping the back of your neck, keeping you in place. "Say it."

You could barely think, barely breathe, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His cock was splitting you open, dragging against your walls in a way that had your stomach twisting in knots. Making your ears flattened as your tail fluffed up.

“Mydei—“ you whimpered.

His hips snapped forward, making you scream.

“Say it.”

“I—I'm yours!” you sobbed, voice breaking into a desperate wail. “Yours—your prey—your—ahhh!”

His teeth sank into the side of your throat, claiming you fully, and your vision went white as you came hard around his cock, your walls milking him greedily.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarled, his thrusts turning erratic. His hands clamped down on your hips, holding you still as he drove into you one last time, pressing himself deep.

Heat flooded your insides as he spilled inside you, thick and so much—your already-sensitive body trembled as you felt it seep even deeper. His cock throbbed, pumping more and more into you, and Mydei let out a pleased growl, licking over the fresh bite mark on your throat.

“Mine,” he murmured again, his hands smoothing over your plush body, possessive and satisfied. “And now… you're bred.”

His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, keeping you close.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Your body trembled beneath him, overstimulated and wrecked, but Mydei wasn’t done with you. His cock still twitched inside your soaked, swollen cunt, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he shifted his weight over you. His tail curled tighter around your thigh, keeping you spread open, forcing you to take every last drop of his seed.

“You look so fucked-out already,” he murmured, one large hand smoothing down your spine before gripping your hips again. “But I’m not done with you yet, little prey.”

You shivered as his hand ghosted lower, spreading your ass to watch his cum leak out of you. He groaned at the sight, his claws digging into your plush flesh. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even knotted you yet.”

Your ears twitched weakly, your breathing still ragged as you turned your head to look back at him. Your wide, dazed eyes shimmered in the dim light, glassy and unfocused—doe-eyed and utterly lost. Mydei sucked in a sharp breath, his cock throbbing at the way you gazed up at him, helpless and ruined.

“Fuck,” he growled. His hand suddenly snaked around your waist, dragging you up off the dirt. You gasped as he pulled you flush against his chest, your legs barely able to hold you up as his cock throbbed deep inside your cunt.

“You’re looking at me like you still don’t get it,” he murmured against your ear. His palm slid up your soft belly before grabbing your tits, squeezing, toying with the sensitive flesh. “You thought I’d stop after one round? Thought I’d just let you go?”

You whined, jolting as he suddenly slapped your tits, making them bounce under his grip. Your whole body jiggled from the impact, heat blooming across your skin, and Mydei “groaned” as his cock twitched inside you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers before giving another sharp slap to your tits, watching them jiggle in his grasp. “Mine to fuck, mine to fill—“

His other hand suddenly slammed against your lower belly, pressing down right where his cock stretched you open. You gasped, your walls fluttering around him as he chuckled darkly.

“Feel that?” he purred. “Right here. My cock, stuffing you so full.”

You sobbed, your hips twitching as he began grinding against your overstimulated clit, pressing down on your belly with every slow, deep thrust.

“Too much—Mydei, please—”

“Please?” he mocked, nosing along your flushed cheek. “Please what, little prey? Please keep fucking you? Please breed you again?"

Your mind was fogged with pleasure, your body trembling in his grasp, but you still managed to choke out a desperate, ruined—

“Yes!”

Mydei snapped.

His tail tightened around your thigh as he slammed you back onto his cock, spearing you open, making your tits bounce wildly with each punishing thrust. You could do nothing but whimper, drool spilling from your lips as your walls spasmed around him, milking him for more.

“Fuck—you’re perfect,” he groaned, licking over your ear before biting down on your shoulder, claiming you. “Gonna fill you up again. Gonna knot you—make sure my seed takes—“

You let out a choked cry as he pressed his palm against your belly again, feeling himself inside you, knowing he was going to breed you until you couldn’t take anymore.

Until you were nothing but his.

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[nina-ya]

Synopsis: Mihawk lets you wrap him up and you decide to have your fun with him- that is, until he breaks free and flips the script on you. Pairing: Mihawk x AFAB reader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, bondage (both reader and mihawk receiving), oral (reader giving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie (wrap it up!), reader being a tease • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

Mihawk looked as though he would rather face a thousand marines in battle than endure the position you had put him in now. Bound in silken ribbons of pale pink, they crisscrossed over the sculpted ridges of his chest, hugging the lines of his abdomen, wrapping around his arms and neatly pinning them behind his back, and secured by an artful bow that sat proudly against his spine. The greatest swordsman had been turned into nothing more than a decadent present awaiting its unwrapping. 

His golden eyes bore into yours with a simmering blend of what you could make out to be irritation and reluctant indulgence. The faint flush painting his cheekbones betrayed more than likely intended.

“You realize how ridiculous this is,” he said, voice a low, gravely murmur. “I’m only tolerating this so you’ll cease badgering me about it.”

Your posture was relaxed but your gaze was anything but as you took in the sight. There was something delicious about seeing the Dracule Mihawk stripped of his usual authority, rendered vulnerable by ribbons and your own whims. 

Your lips curved into a languid smile that only made him clench his jaw further. “Ridiculous?” you mused, stepping forward with an elegance that drew his gaze despite himself. “I think you look rather festive. Like a gift meant to be cherished and unwrapped slowly. Carefully. Thoroughly.”

You paced around the chair he was sitting in, the soft patter of your footsteps against the floorboards echoing in the space. The outfit you were wearing left practically nothing to the imagination which certainly didn’t help the situation. Your featherlight fingers traced the silken ribbon stretched taut across his chest, letting your touch linger a little longer than necessary. His breath hitched- not much, but enough for you to notice. 

“Careful,” he warned, his tone dripping with restraint. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“Oh, the only danger here,” you purred, stopping just behind him and bending your head so that your lips ghost against the shell of his ear, “is how much I’m going to enjoy this.”

His head tilted slightly, as though daring you to make good on your threat. A flicker of something dark and wanting- perhaps desire- flashed in his eyes, though he said nothing, His silence was telling, though; the predator now played prey, bound but not broken. Not yet. 

You stepped back in front of him sinking to your knees, the movement enough to make his brow lift faintly in question. In front of you was a beautiful display: his cock hard, the tip red and angry as pearlescent beads of precum dripping from him. The sight alone was enough to make your mouth water.

You didn’t hesitate wrapping your hand around the thick base giving an experimental stroke, marveling at the way he twitched in your grasp. Before he could think too long, you took him into your mouth, the salty tang of him flooding your senses as you moaned around his length. He inhaled sharply, his control slipping as your tongue swirled over the sensitive tip. His hips jerked instinctively though it was no use against the ribbons. 

Your hand stroked the base of his cock in tandem with the bob of your head, spit glistening as it pooled at the corners of your lips. The sounds that filled the room were nothing short of obscene as you worked him thoroughly. Mihawk’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling in uneven intervals as he fought to maintain control. 

“Damn it,” he growled, wrists flexing against the silk bindings. His hips bucked up into your mouth once more, desperate for more, but you pulled back, letting his cock slip from your lips with a wet pop. 

A thin string of saliva connected you to him, only breaking once you leaned back, your hand still stroking him slowly and lazily. “Ah ah,” you chided, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Don’t you dare try to take charge.”

His eyes darkened, the molten gold now blazing as he looked at you, chest heaving as a result of your actions. But he didn’t dare say a word. 

Satisfied with his silence, you leaned back in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock, savoring the way it bounced slightly as it twitched. You took him back into your mouth, your lips stretching to accommodate as you pushed him in deeper, swallowing around him until he hit the back of your throat, earning a gag from you. 

Mihawk cursed softly under his breath and the sound sent a thrill through you. His muscles tensed as you pulled back, tongue tracing every ridge, every vein. You continued your assault, alternating between slow teasing licks and deep, throat-stretching plunges that left him gasping. His composure cracked further with each pass of your tongue, any semblance of control he had left slipping away as the ribbons around his wrists creaked under the strain of his efforts to break free. 

Just when you felt him begin to pulse against your tongue, his breaths coming in faster as he crept closer and closer to that release he oh so desired, you pulled away entirely, your hand falling still at the base of his cock. He let out a half-groan, half-whine, the frustration palpable as you licked your lips and savored the taste of him lingering on your tongue. 

“Not yet,” you murmured, rising and straddling his lap. His cock pressed against your slick folds, the warmth of him brushing against you as you rolled your hips teasingly. His eyes couldn’t decide where to look as they darted from your face, to your chest, to where his length disappeared between your thighs. 

“Do you think it’s about time you release me?” he huffed out, eyes glamping with frustration and unrestrained desire. 

You smirked, leaning in and capturing his lips in a deep kiss before pulling back. “Hmm. Release you. Do you mean like… this?” 

One of your hands snaked around his back to the bow that held the ribbons all together. You kept eye contact with him as you undid the bindings one pull at a time, not moving too fast as you didn’t plan on releasing him quite yet. You were too busy reveling in the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch, that you didn’t notice that you freed the restraint just a bit too far, and with a single jerk, he snapped free of the remaining bindings, his hands flying to your waist as he stood up in one fluid motion, lifting you effortlessly. 

A yelp escaped your lips and the world shifted in a blur as Mihawk tossed you onto the bed, your back hitting the soft mattress with a bounce. Before you could even comprehend what just happened, he was on you, his movements quick and intense. His lips claimed yours in a searing kiss that made your head spin, his tongue sweeping past your parted lips to tangle with yours, demanding and all-consuming. 

His body pressed you into the bed, every inch of his frame pinning you down as if reminding you just how easily he could overpower you. One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, the other ghosted down your side, setting your nerves alight with every brush of his calloused fingertips. 

You felt his grip shift, his hand sliding to your wrist as he guided your arm above your head. His kiss trailed away from your lips, his breath hot against your jawline as he murmured, “Have you had your fun?” The rhetorical question slipped past his lips, the rich timbre of his voice making your pulse race.

It wasn’t until you felt the soft silk of the ribbon wrap around your wrist that realization dawned. He drew back just enough to meet your gaze, his golden eyes smoldering with intent. Your breath hitched as he secured the ribbon to the bedpost and he captured your other wrist, binding it alongside the first. 

“You look perfect like this,” he said, leaning back to admire his handiwork as his gaze raked over your now bound form hungrily. 

Before you could muster a response, he leaned down, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His teeth scraped against the skin, drawing a gasp from your lips that turned into a moan as he bit down just enough to leave behind a mark. Your body arched against him as he licked over the stinging mark in a half-baked attempt to soothe it. 

His hands roamed over you with a purpose, his fingers tracing every curve and dip as though memorizing you anew. His hand found your chest as his thumb brushed over the hardened nipple before tugging aside the thin fabric to bare you to his hungry gaze. His mouth followed soon after, his tongue swirling over the sensitive peak before sucking it into his mouth. 

You gasped out his name, the sound a mixture of desperation and delight as he lavished attention on your chest, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh. 

He spread your legs effortlessly, his fingers quickly finding that slick heat between your thighs.  A low growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how ready you were for him. “So wet already,” he murmured, his assault on your chest stopping momentarily to brush his lips against your collarbone. He easily slid a finger inside of you, then immediately another, curling the digits in a way that had you crying out. 

Your hips bucked against his hand in an attempt to seek more, and he obliged as he pumped his fingers inside of you once, twice, thrice, before he withdrew, his absence leaving you aching with need. Before you could voice your frustration, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against you. He thrust in shallowly at first, drawing a whine of protest from you before he finally relented and sunk inside, stretching you out with every inch. Your walls clenched around him as he bottomed out, the air filled with shared sighs at the feeling. 

“You feel incredible,” he said, voice thick with desire as he pulled back, only to thrust back in with a force that jolted your body towards the headboard. He set a punishing rhythm, each thrust driving deeper, harder, his body pressing you into the mattress as he took you without restraint. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you. 

You writhed beneath him, your body arching as he leaned down to claim your mouth again, the kiss as intense as the way his cock bullied your insides. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling a moan from your throat as one of his hands slid down to your legs, hiking it up as he drove into you at a new angle that had you seeing stars. 

His mouth left a trail of bites and kisses down your neck, leaving behind deep red marks for everyone to see. The heat coiled tighter in your core as he inched you closer and closer to that blissful edge. His cock hit all the right spots, each thrust dragging against your inner walls in a way that left you trembling beneath him. 

“Mihawk, please,” you whimpered, your wrists straining against the bindings as your body begged for release. 

“Not yet,” he growled, one of his hands sliding down to where your bodies met, his thumb finding your swollen clit and circling it with devastating precision, sending you spiraling and your vision blurring as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. 

A broken, desperate, string of pleads tumbled out of your lips, the needy sounds and the way you look so utterly wrecked making it hard for Mihawk himself to hold back. He cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering, huffing out as he finally gave you the go-ahead to let go. And when you finally did, it was with a force that left you shattered, legs shooting out as your thighs quaked violently, a sound caught between a gasp and a cry ripping from the depths of your throat. Your hole convulsed around him as you gushed all over his cock, a creamy ring of his efforts left at the base of his cock.

He followed soon after, his thrusts growing erratic as he captured your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Abdomen tensing, he finally buried himself to the hilt, spilling warm ropes of cum inside of you with each pulse of his length. He rode out his release through deep groans of your name, bruising grips on your hips and shallow thrusts until he eventually stopped completely. 

Your chests rose and fell rapidly as the tremors of your highs subsided, and his lips planted kisses along your lips, jaw, and temple, before murmuring against your skin, “I think you should enjoy this present a little longer.” and with another roll of his hips, it became clear that you were in for a long night.