#His scream is practically blood-curdling

[legendary-guest]

Thinking about how Monkey Fist and DNAmy got to where they got to in the show. Special thanks to @danglovely's post about the subject for helping connect the dots and turning the gears in my head. More than a professional relationship, as stated. Here's my take. It's long!

The step to alter Monty Fiske's hands and feet was years in the making. Searching for someone who would do something so experimental and insane took a lot of time, all the while hiding his growing obsession and madness from the public and academic colleagues alike. When he finally found Amy, it was a huge relief, and he was overcome with so much joy, with genuine appreciation.

Amy, recently exiled from the scientific community, was greatly flattered by Monty's sheer enthusiasm and willingness to be altered. He knew exactly what he wanted and was so knowledgeable about primates. In fact, he knew a lot about her and her research. Really, it was more of a collaboration. No one at the scientific institutes ever wanted to collaborate with Amy, on her projects and fields of expertise. O, Lord Fiske….

Amy calls the procedure radical genetic mutation in the episode Partners. Aspects of fanon think it's surgery. Just wanted to address this here before continuing. The infamous hobbling scene from the movie Misery (spoilers + grievous, non-bloody violence, if that matters) is how I imagine the preparation for this 'procedure' went. Monty is conscious, he wants to be awake for every step of the transformation, to really feel it, experience it, to remember it. He fairly yells Amy's praises as she does this. (Yes, I would love to think she says, "God, I love you." just as Annie does in the movie. Unaware that she has even said it, perhaps. He doesn't hear it over his screaming).

You know what, Monty might even be the one yelling "I love you!" - that's way funnier. Yes, let's keep that. Yes, you are right to think this is analogous to another activity, dear reader.

Surgery, genetic mutation, whatever happens, he's lucid for it and endures it very well. Amy takes care of him, dotes on him. He's such a good patient, so polite. Always saying please and thank you. He never swears, not even when he's in immense pain. A real, proper gentleman. O, and the way he looks at her with his striking blue eyes and his heavy, British (simian?) brow giving him this air of mystery. Smiling at her all the time, talking about how grateful and happy he is, how she is fulfilling his lifelong dream. The poor woman is about to faint herself! His British accent and eloquence don't help either!

They continue to get to know each other during his recovery. Amy has him do basic physical tests and exercises to get used to his new appendages. She continues to be impressed by his knowledge of primate anatomy. They practically finish each other's sentences on the matter. A lot of bashful turning away and tender smiles between them.

Amy feels comfortable enough to share her Cuddle Buddy collection with him. She's somewhere between shy and enthusiastic when introducing him to it. He's said all these nice things, to her, about her, and he's so educated and goes on so many grand adventures. Her collecting hobby, her passion, seems silly in comparison.

Let's throw this in here - I reckon he holds her hand with his monkey hand. That's sweet. He smiles at her.

Monty calls one of her Cuddle Buddies cute. Amy knows she's in-love with him now. She also knows the way he looks at her isn't just politeness for politeness' sake…

Lord Fiske is utterly elated, on Cloud Nine the entire time he's staying with Amy. Her cooking is good, her abode is well-kept, she is hospitable, she's intelligent and interested in what he has to say and knows so much herself. It's…comfortable, here. Though, he knows, this is all just the icing on the cake. The first step to his ultimate goal has been made. He allows himself to enjoy it wholly, savour it.

Finally, they part, exchanging good-byes. It's a little sad, they've both enjoyed their time together (for different, or perhaps, not all that different, reasons).

Ever the gentleman, Lord Fiske takes one of Amy's hands in his (simian) one, and kisses it gently. A proper good-bye. Amy is stunned. He takes his leave with a smile and a nod.

Amy cannot stop thinking about him. At all. Even when that really handsome teacher came around, with that gangly teen and his pet naked mole rat. And then Kimmie! Ugh, her lab…well. At least she has Monty to think about.

She still can't stop thinking about him when that cute (and charming) Dr. Drakken (though, not a doctor, he is very intelligent, he's definitely been to college, at least) comes along and asks to collaborate. O, he's so sweet. He thinks she can't see him smile when she's not looking directly at him. He should smile more often! Though, that green lady, his not girlfriend, seems to enjoy hovering around him a lot…. When he gets down on one knee and looks the most vulnerable and smitten she's seen him in their short time together, she knows what she must do. He handled it better than she thought he would, even when he screamed his sidekick's name (not girlfriend) as if he were in mortal danger.

Monkey Fist finds his thoughts straying from his destiny, every now and again. Back to Amy Hall. Back to her home. Back to the dinners they shared. Holding her hand, so small in his now…. It wouldn't hurt to incorporate her into some of his ritual praying. No, not at all. And why not? After all, she'd helped him in such a big way! He could have never become Monkey Fist without her. What a curious thing to think about. He finds himself burning a lot of incense and reverently holding her picture (which he printed off of the official Cuddle Buddy Fan Club website; professionally, of course) over the months.

Unable to bear being apart from the one she loves, and who she knows loves her, too, Amy makes contact with him. Probably whilst Monkey Fist is in the middle of some plan, so she is sure to catch him at a terrible time. She didn't call, she didn't send a letter, or even an e-mail, she just showed up.

Monkey Fist doesn't know what to think when she starts blathering on about how much she has missed him (well, it's not like he didn't also - NO, NO HE DIDN'T MISS HER!), and about monkeys, and the surgery, and Cuddle Buddies, and true love - true love? She can't be serious….

"O, Monty!" she cries, before flinging herself into his arms, holding him tight (was she always this strong? She did help him about, but this was ridiculous!), causing him to stumble back. Heck, maybe they even fall to the ground, her on top of him. (Thank you, romance tropes. Hope someone enjoys this).

He doesn't have time for this! He shoves her off, maybe a little more harshly than he intended, but she doesn't seem to be put off by it. In fact, she just keeps smiling at him, and batting her eyelashes! What's gotten into her? She didn't act anything like this when he was staying with her!

More of this nonsense occurs, I reckon. She's even found him in weird places, like in the middle of Cambodia. She's just…there. How did she KNOW? How did she FIND HIM?

She finally tells him, maybe the third time she 'meets' him, that she was sure that he loved her. Why, he even screamed at the top of his lungs that he loved her! Monkey Fist is stunned. No. That didn't happen.

He gets all uppity, maybe even red in the face (blushing. Amy is delighted, she's never seen this side of him before!). That wasn't what he was really thinking, or feeling, for that matter! It was just a side effect of whatever she drugged him up with!

She just continues to smile at him. He starts feeling unease, real unease. She tells him, knowingly, a little coyly, that she didn't give him any medicine for the procedure. He specifically requested no pain killers, or drugs, of any kind. She repeats to him, verbatim, what he'd told her about wanting to experience the entirety of the operation, even its ugliest moments.

Well, Montgomery, you've really done it now, haven't you? Told an incredibly intelligent, persistent, obsessive, and frankly, insane woman you loved her as she was shattering your joints. You wonder how you got yourself into this mess. O, right. Ultimate Monkey Master. Maybe Bates had a point. Or your mother. Okay, not her, but maybe Bates.

And that's that! That's how we get to Gorilla Fist!

[whiskeyskin]

Slow Down

Premise: Astarion discovers that disgustingly quick efficiency at sex, isn't always how everyone wants to enjoy it.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • M rating •

Astarion POV, gn!Tav, doggy, riding, slowing down, enjoyment, bloodplay/bloodlust, feral need, no mention of specific gentials.

2.7k words

Another blinder by @casualya 😙👌 you bless us daily with scrumptious pictures!

•°•°•

Astarion pumelled inside Tav, relentless and frenetic. The energetic pace and precise angle perfected over 200 years. A hand pressed down on the small of their back, the other pulling back on their hip.

This was his favourite position. Turned away; it was easier when they were turned away.

No eye contact. Less need for his practiced veneer. He could just 'get on with it' and be done quickly.

He could also pretend to 'clean himself off' while they were recovering from the earth shattering orgasm he'd just gave them. Keep up the charade till the end.

Their moans were rough, throaty and tense.

"You feel so good, darling." He parroted his old lines, "I want to come darling but I want you to come with me. Are you close for me?"

"Mm, not really." Tav admitted, an awkward tenseness in their voice. Astarion's thrust stuttered slightly, but continued.

He was ever a professional.

He blinked several times, furrowing his brow, "Do we need to change positions, love? I need to feel you come on my cock." He moaned through a bitten lip, slowing his pace.

Tav gave a pleasurable gasp, "Yes, please. It feels good, it's just-I find it difficult to come like this."

Astarion rolled his eyes behind their back, "Then we have to remedy that. Tonight is for out collective ecstasy, remember?" He crooned, gently extracting himself from inside them.

Irritated, Astarion pasted on his flawless veneer and recused himself from the situation, while his body piloted automatically.

Dissociating for him was like meditation, there were no thoughts. Nothingness. A great expanse of blackness and there he cocooned himself. Safe and removed inside.

His body had learned to respond to the stimuli around him, without needing him to be present.

Of course, some part of him was still present but not any part that mattered. No part that he hadn't painfully trained himself to repress and ignore.

There he waited for it to be over, in his safe pocket of void. Soundless. Wordless. Guiltless.

Of course this time would be different to his usual seductions. He would have to keep up a constant charade.

At the Palace, after the act, unlucky target would be taken away; to what they expected to be a bath, that would never come. However, if Cazador was feeling particularly cruel, he'd wrench them out, kicking and screaming before it was finished.

A foul part of him was grateful for it. That he didn't have to finish. That he didn't have to listen to their admissions of love, or satisfaction. Just their horrified screams, as a terrifying Vampire Lord threw them naked from the bed and dragged them behind him towards his study.

He would cower silently and stone-faced, as their blood-curdling howls would fade down the hallway, until the heavy doors shut. Even then his Vampiric hearing would pick up the sounds of panic and violence.

They'd beg him, plead with him, scream at him to help them, save them, intervene.. do something. But he never did. He never would. Never could. Not again.

Suddenly, an unexpected lurching motion tipped him over with a thud. Coming back to true consciousness, he blinked heavily as he realised he was splayed back on the forest floor.

Tav was holding his forearms over his head, "Told you I could." They smirked, slightly breathless.

"So you did. I'm impressed." Astarion replied, not missing a beat.

"I asked you to slow down, you didn't listen. So now, we're going to do this my way. So, you're going to lay back like a good pup and enjoy yourself. Got it?" There was assertiveness but amusement in their tone as they released his arms to reach between their bodies.

"I don't really think I have a choice." He tried to keep his voice steady but there was a wobble; he could hear it.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head, Astarion," he felt the tightness of their walls envelope him again, "Ahh.. it's our collective ecstasy, right?" They licked their bottom lip and placed their hands on his chest.

Astarion didn't answer. This was one of his least favourite positions.

He always felt exposed underneath someone face-to-face. Being giver, or receiver, it felt like he was close to scrutiny like this.

Still. In order to gain their trust further, and assure protection from Cazador - either by human shield, or sword - this was what he had to endure.

Tav began to rock on him, an easy, drawn out pace. Not at all like his urgent trists. He preferred a fast approach. To make then come as soon as possible. He had it down to a fine art but there were always outliers to any experiment.

Astarion grabbed their hips and tried to buck up but he was quickly thwarted.

"Uh-uh, not happening. We're going to slow down, and build this up nicely. Sex isn't about making people come quickly, it's about the journey together."

Tav placed their hands over Astarion's and slid them higher, to hold their waist. They rode him at what felt like a snail's pace, their hips fluidly rolling. Astarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

They took him from tip, to bottomed out tortuously slowly. And while it did feel good, it wasn't going to end soon.

Astarion huffed out in frustration but disguised it with contentment and lust.

Dissociation was peering over his shoulder, inviting him to step away and let it take the reigns.

"Ah, darling. That feels wonderful. Riding me like that."

"Sweet one, this isn't riding. This is the introduction, the prologue, the handshake. I know you're used to it fast, but just bare with me. Just enjoy the sensation."

He squeezed their waist and sighed, "Alright, I'll bite. Well, again." He smirked with an eyebrow flex to himself.

"Mm, that did feel good. Bet it tasted better."

"It did," Astarion relented, "You are rather delicious."

"Better than the bear that got you drunk?"

"Yes, you taste far sweeter than a bear. Satisfied?" He teased, thrusting upwards to meet them. The corners of his vision began to settle and fuzz.

"Slowly." Tav breathed, using their hips to control his speed, "Tell me what I taste like."

His vision cleared and he blinked.

What a question.

One that pulled him back from the edge of nothingness, back to Tav's face above him.

What did they taste like?

It wasn't something he recognised. It wasn't a flavour, it was almost a feeling.

"You taste so sweet, darling. Like honeyed fruits." He placated, keening for good measure.

"The way you suck on my neck doesn't say that. What do I really taste like?"

His face twitched, "I don't know if I could put it into words." He lied, pinching his lips in frustration. At both the questions and the intrusion into his coping mechanism.

"Try."

He couldn't contain his eye roll this time but played off as teasing, "Um, you taste amazing. Like nothing I've ever tasted before."

Tav remained silent, still rocking themselves on his cock. Astarion felt compelled to continue.

"You taste like.. rich wine and sweet fruits.. like summer berries fresh from the bushel, like warm days by the riverside, like splashing in the cool water." He began, unsure where it would go.

Tav's pace increased slightly, harder pressure pushing him into the ground.

"Good man, that's better. What else do I taste like?" Their hands wandered his chest as they moved on him, languid strokes from root to tip.

Something akin to a shooting sensation buzzed from his pelvis. It was unfamiliar, but not unknown.

Enjoyment.

He allowed himself to indulge in their question, "You taste like sunshine and freedom, like the moment before lightning hits," jolts of electricity zappped to his tightening groin, "Your blood tastes like everything I miss from my mortal life, it's like the smell of warm rain quenching dry earth. The feeling of purest limitlessness."

The words left his mind and flew through his mouth before he had time to comprehend how foolish it sounded. But Gods, every word was true. Feeding freely on Thinking blood was a rush that had no competition. But feeding from Tav, was something else entirely.

Tav began bouncing, rippling their spine and hips to pound against him. Bringing a hand to play with themselves illiciting a soft whine.

They looked at him through a hot stare, pinning him to the floor, then looked down to their bodies. Astarion followed their gaze.

If he had breath to steal, it would have been willingly surrendered. Seeing their meeting, the sight of his pale cock, covered in slick, disappearing inside them. Their hand teasing their own release, the other pressed low against is abdomen.

Their soft flesh bounced against the momentum of their riding, he could feel the jiggle beneath his hands.

"When you feed on me it feels like dancing with adrenaline itself. My whole body feels alive but numb at the same time. I can feel you, can feel my blood pumping through your body. I can feel me within you, surrendering to you," Astarion's grip tightened, pressing bruises into their soft flesh.

"You could drain me dry, and leave me for dead and I'd still beg you for one more bite. To feel like that again. It's worth a little death." They smiled coyly down at him, tracing their fingertips against his lips, parting them to reveal his fangs.

Astarion about choked on his own saliva, through a wanton gasp.

A devilish glint sparked in their eye, as they tested the sharpness on the pad of their index finger. They gave a short gasp of pain as it punctured their skin.

Astarion's tongue instinctively flicked against the small rivulets of blood out of desperation. The taste of blood, combined with the pleasure of sex, unlocked some feral part of him that had been dormant for an age.

Groaning and baring his teeth, he slid a possessive hand up their sternum, and felt their heart hammering through their chest. He suckled on the tip of their finger as they rode him but it wasn't enough.

The thought of their hot, sweet, delicious blood pumping through their body. Blood that engorged their swollen sex. Blood that would sustain him, nourish him, make him feel happiness. A happiness he had barely been able to explain since their first feed.

Tav laid their other hand on top of his, "Can you feel how hard my heart's beating? How much I want this? How much I want you, Astarion?" They keened, as their eyes met in passionate gaze.

A noise that didn't quite come from the sane part of his mind erupted from his chest as he felt Tav squeeze his cock with their inner walls.

Astarion desperately gripped their hips and tried to wrap one arm around their body.

"More.. more." He moaned, roughly.

"Blood, or sex."

"Both." He spluttered, frantically clawing at them, sitting up to re-arrange the pose, "Both!"

"Yes, yes." They uttered, breathless.

Pressed body to body, buried deep inside, Astarion sank his fangs into the slope of their chest.

Hot, delicious blood oozed into his mouth, coating his tongue and throat, as he took long pulls and swallowed them down.

The sensation was overwhelming, their life force rushing around his undead body, their walls squeezed tightly around him. He could feel the ministrations of their hand stimulating their release between their slicked bodies.

Tav gasped and moaned against his ear, which they gently nipped and licked on.

Astarion's eyes rolled back into his head, as his jaw tightened, biting harder. He was paralyzed with an overabundance of pleasure, rendering him inert as Tav shot out a cry and continued bouncing down on his cock.

Their pace became erratic, breath hitching as they gasped against the cool night air. Rabid cries of ecstasy echoed through the night as Tav's orgasm hit them.

Small, tense noises roughly eeked from his throat, as a sudden tightening gripped what was left of his soul like a vice, before a violent torrent of orgasmic energy flooded through him. His head jerked back, blood dripping down his chin. Chest hollowing, his eyes found Tav's, connecting them in the moment at the centre of the storm.

The world stilled for the briefest of moments, filled with the warmth of their gaze.

A cry of rapture died in his crimson coated throat and he came inside them, painting their walls with his seed. Tav bottomed out as he filled them to the brim with his cum, rocking their hips against him, over and over, coaxing every last drop.

"Agh, stop please.. mercy." He whined, as his head hit their shoulder, wrung dry from overstimulation.

He still smelled their blood from where he'd not shown enough care, in his hedonistic state, to stem the flow. He thought to cover it with his hand, but Tav had beaten him to it, still holding him upright with the other.

They softly leaned forward to lay him back down on the bedroll, in which he thunked back, gracelessly.

Half-hard and still inside them, his head swimming with the afterglow of his unexpected orgasm, Astarion tried to descend back to Faerûn.

Tav's blood was pumping through his ears, the loud whooshing noise drowning out the insect nightlife that crowded this part of the woods.

A quick kiss touched the tip of his nose, then he felt Tav extracte themself off him and lay beside him. The cold night air now stark and unwelcome, when compared to their warmth.

"Now that was collective ecstasy." Tav said finally, with a wearied but playful lilt.

"Mhm." He replied, unable to apply his brain back into conversation. He heard them moving around to grab a cloths for their puncture marks and a little clean up.

Several moments passed him by, staring up into the darkened starlit sky. He felt he was still up there, in the Astral, after the viciousness of cumming that hard - and after so long.

A pair of soft lips traced over his shoulder, peppering the area with kisses, and for the first time in over two decades; he didn't feel the urge to flinch, "Are you still with us, Astarion?"

He shook his head, "Unfortunately not."

"Oh, dear."

"I'm quite unavailable for conversation at this moment in time."

Tav giggled softly, "Was it the combination of feeding and ear fondling that tipped the scales for you there? I know you were rolling your eyes when I slowed the pace down. I'd heard ear stimulation was part of Elven foreplay, I thought it would add a little something for you." Tav discarded the bloodied cloth, to join the one stained with cum and rolled onto their side to face him.

"It did." He nodded, angling his face to them. He found his new marks on their skin, they were a lot more vicious than those he'd made on their neck, evidence of his animalistic need. "It's never quite felt like that." He admitted, feeling a little sheepish.

"I told you. It's the journey that gets you to the destination." Tav smiled down at him, leaning on one hand, the other resting on his chest.

"That you did." Astarion felt embarrassment creeping up the sides of his neck and flushing his cheeks, as he felt the true gravity of how low he'd left his defences.

"Astarion, are you blushing?" Tav tucked their chin in, shocked.

He turned the corners of his mouth down in disgust, "Of course not! Vampire's don't blush. We don't have any blood." He pointed out.

"Well, you do right now and that's definitely a rosy tinge in your cheeks." They teased, rubbing their nose against the aforementioned red cheeks.

Astarion flinched away, "Stop." He snapped, frowning.

Tav held up their palm, "Alright, I'm sorry. You're not blushing, it's just a trick of the light. Astarion, the Rakeish Vampire-Spawn, does not blush."

"Certainly not, perish the thought. You're delirious with the after effects. The lack of blood has gone to your head." He pouted vehemently, recoiling from the thought he'd actually enjoyed himself.

Enjoyed the sex he'd used them for, that it hadn't been anything more than what it needed to be; a tool in his arsenal of manipulations.

Blushing? He was blushing?! Gods below.

"And the missing blood has gone straight to yours." They teased.

Astarion glared at them but only half meant it. He was still too happy to be miserable. But he had no doubt that the ravages of self-loathing and despair wouldn't give him restbite for long. He may as well enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

"I can promise you, that blood is headed only one place and intends to make you scream like that at least another twice before morning. Especially now I know exactly how you like it," He moaned, pushing them over effortlessly, "This journey isn't over yet, darling."

•°•°•

[sleepyangelkami]

PERVERTED I c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3.3K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you and carl had been best friends for as long as he can remember but lately he's feeling new emotions towards you, ones he doesn't think are too good for a girl like you. as if the world had been listening to his sins, they let him stumble upon your panties, left idly in your laundry basket.

 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, pervert!carl, innocence kink, corruption kink, masterbation, dom!carl, sub!reader, dirty talk, wet (day)dream, kinda manipulative carl, upskirting, aged up characters, use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

you still remembered the day you sat in your dad's farmhouse, surrounded by your family when you heard blood curdling screams from a man out front. you were young then, maybe just after turning eleven when you escaped out the front door, seeing a man carrying what appeared to be his son in his arms, covered in blood.

that was the day you met your soon to be, best friend.

over the years, you and carl grew close. some would say you were best friends, that was what you'd say too. you grew up with all older sisters so you didn't really have anyone your age growing up. not until you met carl and you knew you could trust him with anything. he always told you so. told you that you need no one if not him.

eventually you landed yourself in alexandria. with everything that had happened back at the farmhouse, then at the prison, then the death of your dear sister beth, maggie decided it would be best if you went to live with her and glenn. so that was exactly what you did.

alexandria was unlike anywhere you'd ever been your entire life.

it was blissfull, peaceful.

carl loved alexandria too. it had everything he could possibly need. his own room, his own comics, posters... you. he'd been sitting idly on his bed, flipping through a comic book and not so much as taking notice to the absolute mess in his room. he usually got like this on weekends, letting the room go absolutely horrid with a mess. he knew by any minute now you'd come stalking through the door, brows furrowing at the untidiness of his room.

knock !

ah, there you were.

carl tried to fight back his smile as he tossed the comic book to the side. "come in!" he yelled, flipping himself onto his back as he'd been laying on his stomach.

with no surprise, you stalked through the door. your lips were pressed into a smile as wide as anything, pretty white dress sat across your figure. it made carl remember just how innocent you were to the world around you. you had no idea of what thoughts ran through men's minds when they saw you. he had an overwhelming fear to protect you from it. but if he did, he wasn't too sure if he could protect you from him, too. "hi!" you practically beamed as you came in through the bedroom door.

"hey." situating himself up on the bed. "how was work?"

you worked in the kindergarten near your house. you'd always liked kids, having a certain bond with them that no one could quite explain. you liked taking care of them, you liked playing with them. judith was one of the many you took care of. of course, you were only eighteen so you didn't take care of them full time, you worked with another one of the staff members. "good!" seating yourself on the bed. "i got off early so i helped carol with her pie."

carl couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. his little baker. "that's good, baby."

baby.

to some, that would seem absurd to call your best friend. it would seem like the time of thing that you'd call your girlfriend or your boyfriend. that was what your new friend ron had told you when he'd heard it himself. that night you asked carl if it was odd, if the names he was calling you truly were weird. nobody else called you those names but you supposed you'd never questioned it for how long he'd been doing it. he'd shrugged his shoulders, telling you not to listen to ron and that it was, in fact, normal but if ron or anyone else had called you such names that you should tell carl immediately.

you'd only nodded your head, brain sort of scrambled.

"are you still okay for tomorrow?" you questioned, eyes scanning his face.

every saturday was the same. he'd come over to yours or you'd come over to his. tomorrow was scheduled to be your house, carl was supposed to come over and you'd have your saturday sleep over, filled with movies, junk food, really anything a teenager could get their hands on in an apocalypse. "'course." he practically scoffed out.

it was a tradition, one that could never be broken. "okay." you grinned, eyes flickering across the room before your smile slowly faltered. "carl, your room's a mess!"

carl only groaned in response, picking back up the comic and landing it on his face. he began arguing, telling you to leave it but you were already beginning to clean around the room, shocked by the state it had been in.

knowing he couldn't convince you to stop, he peeled the comic book off his eyes to take a look at you. and that was when he saw it. you bent down to pick up something that had been tossed idly on the floor. he watched as your skirt rode up, giving him a view of pretty pink fabric, covering what he so desperately needed to see.

instantly, his eyes widened slightly.

he'd thought about you like this before. it was only natural for a boy who grew up with you by his side for what felt like his entire life. he had you looking up at him with those doe eyes all the time not to mention the way you paraded around in dresses and skirts as if no one could see.

he slipped the comic book down onto his crotch, covering his obvious hard on. perhaps he was the problem. perhaps the problem was the way his eyes stared at the place he should have been looking away from.

but his feelings had been so... strong lately. it was like something had snapped inside of him and he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you.

more importantly, the sounds you'd make as he slammed his dick inside of you, or how wet you'd get over the simplest of things.

after all, he was your best friend, he'd seen you in many ways. he'd noticed it before, when he was touching you a little too much and suddenly you couldn't get comfortable, the smallest of whimpers leaving your lips as you cuddled into him, thinking the feeling would go away.

he knew exactly what he'd been doing.

his day dreams were cut off by rick entering the room, without knocking. that was how he always knew when it was you at his door, the only one in the world who knew how to knock.

you'd gone home some time earlier, leaving him with his impending thoughts. he'd tried not to think about it, about you, truly. but the way he'd seen your pretty panties lining your clothed pussy earlier had practically sent him over the edge.

"hey." rick walked inside the room, glancing around. "your room looks clean." clothes folded away, nothing thrown on the floor, no cups or dishes sat on the desks. "so i take it y/n was here."

"yeah." carl sat up against the headboard of his bed. "did you need something?" because rick didn't just make his way to his room for no good reason. i mean, he was a busy man.

he scratched his beard. "yeah, was gonna ask because a couple of us are going on a supply run tomorrow and i was wondering if you wanted to come." tomorrow. saturday. you and carl's night.

he contemplated.

the way his mind had been moving lately, perhaps it wasn't the greatest idea to have a sleepover with you just yet. he needed some time to himself, to cool off. he didn't know if he'd be able to control himself if you cuddled up against him the way you usually did, your legs hooked around one of his, sighing softly when you had no idea what he was doing to you.

maybe it would be better off if he called tomorrow night off. it was only one saturday, right? "yeah, yeah sure lemme just run over to y/n's and let her know."

rick was somewhat curious when it came to you and carl. you always looked so happy next to him, big eyes lighting up while he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. he'd also seen you two going through the trenches, even when carl was covered in mud and blood, some walkers, some human, some even his own, he'd still pull you aside, grasping your arm and holding you to the side, making sure nothing got to you, not even one of the group members. he wondered sometimes, just what was going on between you two. sometimes, he thought you guys were dating in secret, behind his back which he wouldn't be all too angry about. but there was a longing look in his son's eyes, one that told him he didn't have her to himself, not yet.

"oh, well if you have plans―"

carl was quick to cut the man off, picking up the jacket you'd folded and left on his chair. "no, no it's fine." slipping his arms in the holes. "she won't mind."

he wondered if you would.

surely, you were bound to be upset. you loved the saturday sleepovers. he'd imagine that you'd give him those doe eyes, showing just how upset you were but you'd shrug it off with a little smile, telling him to be careful. you always wanted so desperately to please him. he could see this, he adored you for it.

across alexandria, carl knocked against your front door. he waited momentarily before doing the same thing again. when he received no response, he made it his business to slide the unlocked door opened. he called out for glenn and maggie across the hallway, receiving, yet again, no response.

then his feet made it towards the stairs. he found himself walking around until finally, he stood in front of your open bedroom door. "sweetheart?" he called out, this time much softer.

from the door at the end of the hallway, he heard the response. "one minute!" the yell was from you, behind the door. "'m in the shower!" you had this weird thing about you where you showered multiple times a day, scrubbing your skin raw. sometimes you thought you'd never scrub off the mud that covered you from when you lived on the roads. carl noted that when he'd see your arms slightly red after the shower, not from the hot water. but he never mentioned it.

"okay!" he yelled back, now suddenly aware of the running water. "I'll be in your room!"

he heard a muffled 'okay' from behind the door before entering your room.

the walls were baby pink, everything else being a mixture of white and pale colours. what could you say, you were a sucker for pastels.

the room was like it had always been. he'd been in there a thousand times before, whether it was for a sleepover, for a mere five minutes to pop in when he was on his break or reading a comic book to you while sat perched on your bed, or holding you while you cried.

the point was, carl knew you through everything in your entire life. this room was practically his too. the same way his own was practically yours.

one thing was for sure, there was enough of each other's clothes in the other's room for it to be considered one another's.

speaking of clothes, his eyes snapped over to the basket of clothes that sat idly on your bed, waiting to be thrown in the wash. he assumed that's what you were going to do when you were out of the shower.

his eyes caught a glimpse of one of the shirts he owned. he knew you took it. rolling his eyes, he picked it out of the basket, stepping backwards as a couple pieces of clothes left.

"fucking idiot." he mumbled before picking the pieces up, placing them back inside the dirty basket. then his eyes caught that familiar pink cotton material.

he swore he held his breath.

the panties you'd worn earlier, clad across the part he so desperately wished to see. he couldn't help the way his hand reached down before standing up. every other piece of clothing, he'd tucked back into the basket. but this particular piece of clothing, he held it for a moment.

was it so wrong? to think of your innocent best friend in such a way? had you ever... thought about him like that?

questions swarmed his mind before you entered the room.

he spun around, tucking the garment into his back pocket. he used both his hands to lift the flannel back over his jeans, making sure the garment couldn't be spotted at all, even if someone had looked from behind.

"you okay?" you questioned, now dressed in a pale yellow shorts and a large sweater. it was getting dark outside, he noticed. probably your pijamas.

he watched as your hair dripped onto the floor beneath you. "yeah, yeah, i... needed to talk to maggie about something." he didn't know why he was lying. he really did need to tell you something but his mind was in scrambles, thinking of the piece of fabric in his back pocket, he couldn't possibly respond right.

"oh." you faltered slightly. "well, she's not here but―"

you frowned at how quickly he cut you off. "that's fine, i'll just tell her tomorrow." he crossed your bedroom, passing you to walk out the door.

you followed in confusion, wondering why he'd been so eager to run away. "well, i'll tell her you came by." wondering what was up with him at all. carl never acted like this.

suddenly, the boy swung around. "no, no don't tell her." waving you off. your brows were knit together in utter confusion. "i don't think i wanna talk about it with her anymore so... night!" practically racing out the front door and slamming it in his leave.

you stood stumped at your front door, confusion evident in just your eyes. "night carl..." mumbling before turning around, wondering what all of that had been about.

the sun had set when carl finally took the garment out again.

he knew it was wrong, he had to know. at least subconsciously, anyway because he waited until everyone else in the house had fallen asleep until he took them out. at this point, he'd been dressed down to just his boxers. it was late, time for the sleep he knew he wouldn't get. not when that image of you, bent over, was burned into his mind.

the mere thought had his hand inching downward while his other held the pretty panties in his hands. he stopped himself.

this is wrong. he thought. so fucking wrong.

but he felt so tempted.

the panties sat in his hands were the same ones you'd wore today, the same ones he'd seen you bent over in. he couldn't stop thinking about it, whether his hand continued down or not.

what you didn't know, couldn't hurt you.

surely, you'd never find out about something like this. he was safe, for now. his hand inched down, tracing just beneath his boxers before pulling out his length. he felt himself groan at the mere touch. he'd been hard since you left, it hurt. and he knew if you were here, you'd do anything to make sure he wasn't in pain.

even if he meant the blasted thing he was about to do.

his hand wrapped around his dick, he breathed out before pumping it once, then again, then again. "fuck." he breathed out, his head falling back and his mouth falling open.

he'd touched himself a thousand times before, for as long as he could remember, his mind always traced back to you. it was impossible to escape your grace. but there was something about holding your panties in his hands that made him feel even better.

as wrong as it may have been, he couldn't stop himself now.

if he was going to do it, he was going to go all in.

aimlessly, he used his other hand to prop your panties against his cock. they fell so loosely around his length causing him to groan. with his right hand, he held onto the panties before pumping his cock over and over again. he groaned, loudly enough before practically shoving his face in the pillows beneath his head.

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." his hands were big, long slender fingers wrapping around him. he could imagine you trying to take it. he'd imagine he'd have to coax you, gently running them up and down your thighs before pushing them inside. you'd be so wet, gushing over his fingers.

then he imagined you taking his dick, an impossible task.

he could imagine your pretty virgin hole, so tight. he couldn't even imagine you taking your own fingers let alone his dick. your walls would be so tight around him, clenching as he pulled every last moan out of you. you'd whine and writhe against him, it all becoming too much too quick.

and he wouldn't care. "take it, take it." carl mumbled into the air of his bedroom, eyes shut and imagining you while his hand never stopped its constant attack on his own dick. his hand sped up, so quick that he could barely breathe. "hah, good girl." his voice breaking, slightly higher pitched. "my good girl, mhm, good girl." breaths falling from his lips like chanting prayers.

it was wrong, to think of you like this. he knew that but he was too damn perverted.

he'd imagined what he could have done this morning, you bent down and picking something off the floor. he could have grasped your hips, holding them in place and peeking the skirt of the dress above your hips, getting the view he really wanted.

he'd imagined peeling the fabric of your panties away, getting a view at what he needed the most. the same fabric that was sat around his cock.

he couldn't stop the noises that left his lips, trying so hard to stay quiet but the way your panties felt against him was enough to have his hips rolling even if they hadn't wanted to. it was like you were there in front of him. he could ram into you as he pleased, holding your hips close as you sat on top of him. but he'd do all the work, of course, anything to coax those little whines out of you.

the many times he'd pulled at your hair for a reaction or rubbed your thighs gently, every murmur of a whimper that would leave your lips. he imagined it a thousand times louder now.

he couldn't help himself, flipping over so he was sat propped up on his knees but his hips thrusting forward into the little material.

the head of his dick hit against the mattress with every thrust, your panties wrapped up in his fingers and his cock.

he felt a sudden familiar feeling build up in his stomach. "fuck, baby, feel s'good." practically pussy drunk by now, despite the fact he hadn't even touched your pussy yet. "shit, jus' like that, c'mon, sweetheart."

"please, carl!" he could hear your whiny voice now. "touch me, please, please."

your voice, albeit in his head, was enough to send him over the edge.

he came with his eyes closed and mouth open, a moan falling from his lips. not just any moan, your name. he felt creamy liquid gush out of his dick, landing all over the pink panties that lay in his hands.

he thrust his dick over and over until he ran dry. then, he collapsed with a pant. his lungs were burning, they were raw and his head fell against the linen pillows. he barely so much as glanced down to your stained panties that wrapped around his fingers.

one thing was for sure, he needed to get to this damn saturday sleepover. fuck the run.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[jellys-compendium]

Creature!Vash has always had a deep rooted fascination for human beings. He watches them almost obsessively from the shadows just beyond the dark tree line. He’s always wanted to be just like them, his lanky limbs imitate their movements, his chapped lips flutter in tandem with theirs, copying their words and voices perfectly. Vash practices their friendly gestures, lips rolling back to reveal a row of frighteningly sharp teeth, an uncanny smile that is far too wide to be normal.

Creature!Vash likes all humans, he really does! But, he’d be lying if he denied developing a particularly strong attachment to you, the pretty park ranger that walks through the forest trail every day at sunset. He’s always there, waiting in the shadows, following you silently. When the sun sets, Vash is sure to keep his wide, orange glowing eyes low to the ground so as not to arouse your suspicion. After all, he doesn’t want to scare you.

Creature!Vash chirps and coos from his hiding place amidst the branches, perfectly imitating the sounds of your favorite birds as he accompanies you down the path. Loons, chickadee’s, owls, anything you want to hear, so long as he gets to see that gorgeous smile of yours.

Creature!Vash who reveals himself to you once he feels he’s perfected his human mask. He steps out of the shadows and smiles wide, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight and his long fingers creaking like tree branches as he waves at you. “Hello, human! May I walk with you?”

Creature!Vash who’s devastated when he hears you blood curdling scream, and even more gutted when you turn your back and run. No, no, no! He didn’t mean to scare you! He thought his human disguise was perfect! He just wanted to talk to you, have you look at him and smile at him.

“Please! Please don’t run! I won’t hurt you, I promise!”

Creature!Vash who catches up to you in an instant. You are no match for his inhumanly long legs and quick stride. You scream again when you feel his hands wrap around your waist, grabbing you and pulling you back into him, engulfing you in a blizzard of pine scented feathers. He whimpers apology after apology, lips trembling against your neck but his arms hold strong like tree trunks around you. Vash holds you like that until he feels your heart slow and your cries for help subside.

“Can you let me go now?”

Creature!Vash's body betrays him when he squeezes you tighter, but he agrees, nodding vigorously to reassure you. His breath comes out in a shuddering wave, birthing goosebumps across your skin when he releases you. As you slip away, Vash’s fingers twitch, seeking your warmth and comfort. He never meant for things to turn out like this. 

Creature!Vash who shuts his eyes and waits for you to scream, or attack him, or run. Imagine his surprise when you do neither. Then imagine his utter shock when he feels your soft fingers brush against his cheek. His eyes flare open, dousing you in orange light, as he stares at you incredulously.

“You’re…very strange.” 

Creature!Vash who follows you everywhere you go after that. He helps you with your work while you teach him about the human world. He’s especially intrigued by the knick knacks you’ve collected over the years and have scattered around your home. Admittedly though, it’s a little weird when you catch him piling your things up and rolling around in it. “It’s to keep the others away!” He says with confidence, although he’s always managed to avoid your follow up question of, “Who are these others, exactly?”

Creature!Vash who unfortunately doesn’t understand the concept of personal boundaries at first. He’s always in your space, squeezing in behind you on the couch, leaning into your side at the kitchen counter, curling into your side when you’re trying to relax in bed and read.

Creature!Vash who you come to realize makes the strangest sounds. He tends to produce cute little chirps when he’s happy. But he also chuffs when he’s upset or frustrated. You’ve heard him growl and hum, chitter and sing. And all of these sounds always carry with them a strange otherworldly quality to them that always makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

Creature!Vash who doesn’t understand that it’s creepy as hell that he watches you sleep. Despite the fact that you’ve scolded him about this many times, you still sometimes catch him looming over your bed in the middle of the night. It scares the absolute shit out of you every time he does it.

Creature!Vash who desperately wants to come into town with you. He begs you to let him, and promises that he’ll blend in. He’ll wear a trench coat! He’ll hide his teeth, he’ll wear really big sunglasses! He won’t get caught, he’s very good at pretending to be human now!

Creature!Vash who always carries with him the sharp scent of pine and forest decay everywhere he goes. Even after he’s bathed in shampoos and soaps galore and stayed inside your home for days, his skin always smells like the woods he came from.

Creature!Vash who slowly grows possessive of your attention. He knows it’s wrong to become jealous when you spend time with others but he can’t help himself. Before you he had no one, and now that he’s with you—now that you’ve made him feel so loved—he’s hellbent on not letting you go.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion. 

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality. 

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?” 

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said. 

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard. 

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs. 

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.” 

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar. 

However — 

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up. 

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly. 

“That’s new.” He said. 

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

       “Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

       He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground. 

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself. 

        “Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably!  It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…” 

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened. 

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery. 

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few. 

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive. 

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been. 

        He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you. 

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels. 

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch. 

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind. 

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe. 

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze. 

“Fuck.” He croaked. 

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh. 

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back. 

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes. 

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest. 

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder.��

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach. 

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor. 

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe. 

— 

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs. 

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined. 

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching. 

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again. 

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming. 

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm. 

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. 

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers. 

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach. 

          Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.  

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin. 

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly. 

— 

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break. 

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.” 

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze. 

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.” 

The woman sighs. 

“You might not always.” 

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek. 

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep. 

“What’s that from?” You rasped. 

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear. 

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before. 

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.” 

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind. 

“Hey!”

***

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[writeriguess]

katsuki x reader where they watch a horror movie and she gets scared and clings to him and he - obviously - let's it feed his ego and teases her but cuddles her regardless

The living room is dimly lit, the only real light coming from the TV casting an eerie glow across the room. You can feel your heart beating faster as the opening credits of the horror movie flash across the screen. Katsuki sits beside you, leaning back casually into the plush cushions of the couch, one arm resting on the back as if he owns the place—well, in his mind, he does. You had agreed to watch this movie after his teasing, claiming you could handle it. But as the ominous music swells, you begin to wonder if that was a mistake.

You’re trying to focus on the plot, trying to be brave, but every creak, every sudden movement on the screen makes you flinch. Katsuki, of course, notices. He always does. You can almost feel his smirk even before he speaks.

“Scared already?” His voice is low, taunting, dripping with amusement.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, pretending not to be affected. “No,” you lie, though the slight tremble in your voice betrays you. You keep your arms crossed, hugging yourself, determined to prove him wrong.

But the movie only gets worse. The tension builds with every passing scene, and soon enough, a jump scare hits you like a freight train. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips, your body instinctively jerking toward him for comfort. Before you realize it, your hand grips his bicep, fingers curling into the firm muscle beneath his shirt.

Katsuki stiffens for a second, and then—there it is—the cocky chuckle that sends a wave of heat flooding your face.

“Knew you couldn’t handle it.” He’s smug, so damn smug, and you can feel his ego practically inflating by the second.

You open your mouth to protest, to deny his accusation, but the next scene hits you like a punch. A blood-curdling scream blares from the TV, and without thinking, you’re clutching him harder, burying your face into his arm, your breath quickening. His warmth is oddly comforting despite the teasing lilt in his voice, and you can't bring yourself to let go.

Katsuki shifts beside you, clearly enjoying this. You can feel his gaze burning into the top of your head as you cling to him, like he’s savoring every moment. “If you’re that scared, you coulda just told me, dumbass,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’d have turned it off for ya.”

You can practically hear the smirk on his lips, but there’s no way you’re admitting defeat. “I’m fine,” you mumble into his arm, though your grip on him remains firm.

“Yeah, sure,” he drawls, his free hand coming up to rest on your head, ruffling your hair with a mix of affection and mockery. “I can feel you shakin’.”

You scowl but say nothing, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging how freaked out you really are. He’s enjoying this way too much, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts gloating.

“You’re lucky I’m nice enough to let you hang on to me,” he continues, leaning closer until his lips are brushing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “But don’t worry—I’ll protect you from all the big, bad monsters.”

Your face burns with embarrassment and frustration, but his teasing doesn’t stop the way your heart leaps at his words. Despite the smugness in his voice, you feel safe beside him, his presence a solid anchor against the rising tension in the movie. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm, a soothing contrast to the frantic pace of your own.

As another terrifying moment unfolds on the screen, you flinch again, instinctively pressing even closer to him, practically burrowing into his side. Katsuki shifts, and before you know it, his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. He’s warm, his scent comforting despite the electric energy he usually exudes. It feels natural, almost protective, the way he holds you.

He tilts his head down, voice softer but still teasing. “You better not start cryin’ on me, princess.”

You roll your eyes, despite the fact that your heart’s still racing. “I’m not crying,” you manage to grumble, though your face remains half-hidden against him.

“Good,” he murmurs, his arm tightening around you slightly. “I’d never let you live it down.”

You can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady rhythm calming the anxiety gnawing at you. As much as he’s teasing you, there’s something comforting about the way he holds you—firm but not overbearing, warm but not smothering. It feels…right. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, settling more into his embrace.

For a few moments, you just sit there, pressed close to him, your nerves slowly easing under the weight of his arm around you. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t keep poking fun, which surprises you. Instead, he lets the movie play, and even though your eyes are still glued to the screen, you find it easier to bear now that you’re huddled against him.

Another scare comes, this one more intense than the last, and you involuntarily flinch again, squeezing his arm. This time, though, Katsuki just snickers softly, pressing his lips briefly to the top of your head.

“You’re a real scaredy-cat,” he says, the teasing edge softened now, more affectionate than mocking. “But I guess it’s kinda cute.”

Your face heats up at his words, but you don’t move away, too wrapped up in the comfort of his closeness. Instead, you mumble something incoherent under your breath, not trusting yourself to speak without stammering. Katsuki’s hand rubs slow circles on your back, his touch surprisingly gentle, as if trying to calm you down without admitting that he’s actually being nice.

The rest of the movie passes in a blur of tense moments and scary scenes, but with Katsuki’s arm securely around you, you’re able to handle it—mostly. Every now and then, you still jump or cling to him, and each time, he smirks or makes some smug comment about how you’re “hopeless” or how he’s “too damn good for you.” But he never lets you go, his teasing softened by the way he holds you close, his hand never leaving your back.

By the time the movie ends, the credits rolling with a creepy lullaby in the background, you’re tucked completely against him, your body molded to his side. You’re still on edge, but the fear has lessened, replaced by the steady comfort of Katsuki’s warmth and the soft rise and fall of his chest.

He stretches, his arm moving slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. “Told you it wasn’t that bad,” he says, though his tone is more relaxed now, less mocking. “You survived, didn’t you?”

You let out a breathy laugh, finally pulling your face away from his arm to look up at him. “Barely.”

Katsuki’s eyes glint with amusement, but there’s something else there too—something softer, more tender, as he gazes down at you. “Yeah, well, you had me,” he says, his voice low and almost…fond. “I’m the best damn bodyguard you could ask for.”

And for once, you don’t argue with him. You just smile, leaning back into his embrace, letting the warmth of his body soothe the last remnants of fear still lingering in your chest.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you murmur, your voice soft but sincere.

He grunts, but you catch the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he rests his chin on top of your head. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it, dumbass.”

But despite his words, you know he doesn’t mind. You know that, at the end of the day, he’s more than happy to hold you close—even if he’ll never admit it out loud.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[gigabyte-flare]

Insatiable (Part 3) [FINALE]

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: The hunt is on. How far can you run?

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: I present the thrilling conclusion to this greatly anticipated part! I want to thank everyone for their support: for reading, liking and reblogging! I never expected this series to blow up at all. While, yes, this is the conclusion, I absolutely plan on revisiting yandere plagas!Leon, he was so much fun to write. I hope this part meets everyone's expectations! I also want to take a moment to showcase another one of @chanif-art's Yandere Plagas!Leon pieces, I love the way they portray him!

"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive. Just like animals, animals, like animals, —mals. Maybe you think that you can hide, I can smell your scent from miles. Just like animals, animals, like animals, —mals."

You run as fast as your legs allow you into the parking garage, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator. You take two steps at a time to get yourself up to where you parked your car faster. You don’t dare look back, you know Leon is hot on your trail. You can hear gunfire, screaming and the sounds of death from whence you came. 

Getting onto the third floor of the parking garage, you spot your car on the far side and you sprint, practically throwing yourself at your car once you get there. You rip open the driver’s side door and climb inside, immediately locking the doors when you get in. Fishing your keys out of your pocket, you accidentally drop them onto the floor.

“Fuck!”

You bend down at an awkward angle to pick them up, hooking your finger around the keyring and sitting back up where you are met with Leon staring at you, his clawed hands pressed against the glass of your driver’s side window. You suck in a breath, your eyes locked onto his blood red eyes.

“Found you!” he says, a sadistic grin forming on his face.

You see his sharpened canine teeth once he fully grins; he opens his mouth and you watch as a set of mandibles come out from inside his mouth, a low guttural growling sound coming out of him. This is nothing like the nightmare you had.

This is a thousand times worse.

You let out a blood curdling scream before you turn your attention back to starting your car, shoving your key into the ignition and turning the car over. The car roars to life, you immediately throw it in drive and slam your foot on the gas, launching forward as you turn the wheel to the left, drifting around the bend to go down the ramp to get out of the parking garage. 

You get to the bottom, busting through the barrier to get onto the street. You swerve through traffic, trying to get onto the interstate as quickly as possible. However, the gridlock traffic on the on ramp makes that impossible, so you continue to swerve through traffic in the heart of the city. You look in your rear view mirror, your stomach sinking at the sight of Leon keeping up with you, jumping on and over cars as he chases after you. 

You make a split second decision to turn left down an alleyway and you gun it, the tires squealing on the pavement. However, you slam on the breaks when you see that Leon stands in your way. Your hands white knuckling on the steering wheel as the two of you stare at each other. You furrow your brows and scream in rage as you slam your foot onto the gas pedal, hoping you can take him out with your car.

Oh, sweetheart, that is a big mistake.

He grins, holding his hands out in front of him to catch your car. His clawed hands leave indents in the front of your car as he plants his feet into the ground as your wheels spin and spin and spin until one of them finally bursts into pieces. Your vehicle now severely crippled, he walks over to the driver’s side, ripping the door clean off the car. He watches as you try to cower to the passenger’s side.

It’s futile. He reaches in, grabbing you and pulling you out of the car. He wraps his arms around you as if you were a long lost lover, one of his hands gripping the back of your head as he embeds his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply like you were a drug. You smell absolutely divine.

“Leon Kennedy!” he hears a man shout from one of the ends of the alleyway. 

Leon turns his head, seeing a large group of men with guns pointed at him. Leon turns his head the other way, seeing they’ve completely blocked him in the alley.

“Let the girl go, Leon!”

Leon looks back over at the man, his tail whipping back and forth as a low growl emanates from his throat.

“No,” Leon says, narrowing his eyes, “she’s mine.”

“Don’t do this Leon! Let her go and we can end this peacefully!”

He feels you trembling in his embrace, too stunned to fight back or even scream. Grinning at the man threatening him, he bares his fangs, a low growl coming from the back of his throat. Then he looks down at you, your terrified gaze looking back up at him. Grabbing your face, he forces your mouth open. You start screaming when his mandibles come out of his mouth again. His mouth latches onto yours, his mandibles clawed into the sides of your face, preventing you from pulling away. His eyes roll into the back of his head as his body convulses before a Plagas egg slips inside of your mouth, causing you to gag. Releasing his mouth from yours, his mandibles retracting back into his mouth, he leans back as you cough profusely.

“Swallow. It.” he growls at you.

You have no choice but to swallow, otherwise you would have likely choked. The stress from this whole ordeal must have been too much because you faint in Leon’s arms afterwards. Leon throws you over his shoulder and jumps straight up into the air. A flurry of bullets shoot around him as he lands on the roof of the building, running across it at a terrifying speed. He leaps from rooftop to rooftop with the grace and agility of a jaguar; his pursuers found it impossible to keep up with him. 

There’s an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city, a perfect place for Leon to settle down and enjoy his mate. Landing nimbly onto the ground in front of the factory, he struts inside with his prize still unconscious over his shoulder. 

Your eyes snap open and you sit up; your whole body trembling as you start violently coughing into your hands. You look down, your eyes widening when you see that your hands are covered in your blood; you feel it trickle down your bottom lip and chin. Suddenly, it came back to you, Leon had infected you. You start hyperventilating, your eyes wide, darting around to your surroundings. You deduce that you’re in some kind of large abandoned building, the rays of the sun at dusk fracturing through the decaying structure. 

You turn around, sucking in a breath when you see Leon sitting nonchalantly about an arm’s length away from you with a smirk on his lips and a look on his eyes that could only be described as lustful. 

“How are you feeling, love?” Leon asks before he emits a low, almost purr like sound from his throat. 

“Where the fuck did you bring me?”

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “somewhere safe until I can find us a place for you to safely give birth to our offspring.”

“Excuse me?!” You say with a gasp, pushing yourself away from him.

“Calm down,” he growls, “I haven’t done anything to you, yet. It’s not fun to copulate when my mate is unconscious.”

“I am not your mate!”

He begins to chuckle, shaking his head before locking his red eyes onto yours, “I wouldn’t be so sure, I should bet money on how long it’ll take for me to make you scream my name.”

“Oh hell no!” you say as you scramble to your feet and start to run.

You don’t get very far, however, as you feel something coil around your leg and pull you back onto the ground. Within moments, Leon pounces on top of you, pressing himself into your back, pinning you to the ground. You realize it was his tail that had coiled around your leg. His clawed hands pin your arms to the ground.

“Don’t you dare run,” he purrs, bringing his lips up to your ear, “I don’t like to chase.”

You feel his hardening member pressing up against your bottom as he grinds his hips into you. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply before trailing kisses from your head to your shoulder before sinking his sharp teeth into your skin. You scream, your body tensing up against the excruciating pain in your shoulder. 

He unlatches himself from your shoulder, letting out a lust filled growl before climbing off you. You try to crawl away, but he grabs you by the hips, flipping you over onto your back. He sits up on his haunches, breathing heavily as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire. You watch his tail move back and forth and his back claws flex, ready to strike at you if you try to run again. 

You watch as he grabs his shirt with both hands, ripping it apart to expose his chest. Even his chest is covered in those dark veins; you suspect his whole body is. Still staring down at you, he undoes his belt before he stands up to discard his pants and underwear. You can’t help but stare up at him in awe, feeling your skin crawl as you stare.

“Feel that?” he says, climbing back on top of you, slipping his hands under your shirt to pull it off over your head, “do you feel the pull between us? We were made for each other, love.”

There’s a sudden ear piercing ringing in your ears, causing you to wince and whimper as you grasp the sides of your head.

Give in to me.

Your eyes widen when you hear Leon speak inside your mind. This has to be a side effect of the Plagas, you had read reports of its mind controlling abilities; you never thought in a million years you’d experience it first hand. 

I will make you love me.

The ringing finally stops; you hesitantly lower your hands away from your face, his face hovering just above yours. He presses his lips against yours, kissing you aggressively as his hands work to remove your pants. Once he gets your pants off, he sits back up on his haunches before spreading your legs apart. He licks his lips upon seeing the dark wet spot on your underwear.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he says, a purring sound emanating from him before he continues, “so nice and wet for me.”

He leans forward, grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth and dragging them slowly off your body. Once your underwear is off, he practically launches himself between your legs, his face buried in your folds as he inhales deeply before running his tongue over your slit. He props your legs over his shoulders as he starts to fuck you with his tongue, which almost seems longer than a normal tongue would be as his nose rubs into your clit.

You let out a moan as you throw your head back, your fingers digging into the ground as your legs squeeze against his shoulders. You cry out when you start to hear the painful ringing again.

That's it, cum for me. Cum on my tongue.

Leon growls, the vibration shooting through your entire body. You are driven so close to the edge, causing tears to flow from your eyes. 

“Oh… oh god… oh fuck… L-Leon!” you scream, “I’m… I’m gonna cum…!”

You feel Leon smile into your folds, his tongue still buried in your cunt.

What a good girl you are! Didn’t I tell you I’d have you screaming my name? 

He lets out another growl, this time it’s enough to make you fall apart on his tongue. He moans, lapping up your juices as they flow out of you. He pulls his tongue out of your leaking hole, his mouth soaked in your orgasm. He licks his lips clean before he climbs back on top of you, his throbbing cock pressing against your slit.

“It’s time to breed this beautiful pussy.” he says with a sinister smile.

Leon looks directly into your eyes as he pushes himself into your body, watching as you squirm beneath him as he fills you. When his hips and yours meet, he stays still for a moment admiring the sight of your two bodies together as one. He cages your body with his arms and back claws, thrusting in you at a steady but powerful pace. His eyes trail down your body, taking in the sight of your breasts bouncing in your bra with each thrust. He reaches with one hand, grasping your bra and ripping it clean off. He sits up and grasps your thighs, pushing you back into a mating press and quickening his thrusts inside you, eliciting loud, desperate moans out of you. 

“That’s it,” he says, his voice breathy as he fucks you ruthlessly, “such a good girl for me.”

“Oh god… shi-- L-Leon!” you moan, running your fingers through your own hair as you throw your head back, already on the edge of another orgasm.

His pupils dilate as he stares at you and to his pleasure, watches as black veins start appearing on your body; you are transforming quickly. He attributed that to being in your presence, since he is your mate. He can feel himself getting close; he leans down, latching his mouth onto one of your breasts, making a purring sound as he sucks on you hard. He reaches down to your clit, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb as his other hand grabs your other breast, squeezing hard.

The sounds of your screams, whimpers and moans is music to Leon’s ears as he marks your breasts with bruises and bite marks. He feels you tug on his hair gently and he looks up at you, only to find you staring at him, your eyes gazed over in lust, your pupils now touched with red like his own. Seeing you like this sends him over the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” Leon growls, moving back up to you to kiss you deeply.

He feels your pussy clench around his cock, sending him over the edge as he pushes impossibly deep into you, shooting his load into you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace as you moan his name over and over.

At that moment, a set of doors bursts open on the other side of the room, and Leon watches as a flood of men with guns rushes in, taking aim at him. Leon holds you against him with one arm, the other propping him up as he glares at the men, a low, menacing growl coming out of him. Your arms and legs instinctively wrap around him as he starts to stand up, his member still twitching inside of you.

“Put her down, Leon,” says the man that originally threatened him in the alley; Leon concluded that he is probably the squad leader.

“You’re too late,” Leon says with a grin, “her transformation is nearly complete and I’ve claimed her with my seed.”

He pulls himself out of you and holds you bridal style. He can feel you trembling, but you’re trembling from your orgasm, your breaths slow and heavy as you nuzzle in his embrace.

“You bastard!” the squad leader shouts, firing his gun at Leon.

Leon is too fast, however, he sidesteps the gunfire and rushes at the group of men, his tail thrusting forward, impaling the squad leader before whipping around, decapitating several men in a single swing. The rest of them stand there stunned for a moment before opening fire. Leon, while still holding you in his arms, moves gracefully in the midst of the bullets, impaling a few more of the men easily with his tail. What’s left of the men quickly lose morale, dropping their guns and rushing out of the abandoned factory. 

Leon watches the men flee, a look of content on his face as he looks down at you. Leon turns, approaching a forest that lies beyond the abandoned factory. With a single, graceful jump, he lands in the trees, disappearing into the night.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

so glad jason is getting out in his place for the reverse, no one gets to treat baby poorly

Dick shouldered your bedroom door open and exhaled slowly. You hated having other people in your room. "Just lay her on the bed," he said, putting your bag down and putting the lunch box of snacks on the desk. "She'll be okay."

"She's really still," Jason said frowning as he laid you down. Taking half a second to unfold your arms from across your chest- just to make you look less dead.

"Happens," Dick said, pulling a clean blanket from the chest at the foot of your bed and throwing it over you quickly. You had half a dozen extra blankets. Throw pillows. Plushes. At some point in the intervening years, you'd gone from a full-sized bed to a queen just to accommodate it all. "She gets tired out after all that." He paused for a second and checked the temperature in the room before jerking his head towards the door.

It was better to leave you alone and let you rest. And once they ere outside, he shut the door and lead Jason down the hall. Going to find Alfred and let him know that you're safely in your room.

"What did she do to her hands?" Jason asked?

Dick shrugged, "Punching the shit out of the trees, tearing out brambles... The clearing is bigger than it used to be. I know she's hurled rocks around before. But. I only know that because I check up on it every so often."

"But-"

"Otherwise," Dick sighed. "It's a lot of crying, blood-curdling muffled screaming, and emotional turmoil that would make Bruce crack... It all has to go somewhere."

"Just out in the woods recreating a horror movie?"

"Nowhere else to do it," he said practically. "It could potentially fuck up the whole manor if she just flipped shit in her room. She can't just run screaming down a street. And unless she wants to live isolated in the middle of nowhere- which might be okay for a while- she'd probably just go crazy and either join a cult or start a cult."

"She's terrified of people-"

"Terrified of hurting people," Dick corrected, "and of being hurt. there's a difference. It's like befriending a feral cat. You get pretty far with snacks- it takes a while to get her to warm up to you. Alfred won her over with Homemade Cinnamon rolls."

"What'd you do?" Jason snorted.

"Snuck her into the zoo early one day," he said smiling at the memory. After a disastrous family trip that had you whimpering in pain, watching you zip down the walkways beaming... It was worth bribing a few people.

"What'd everyone else-"

"Little wing, look," Dick sigh. "I get it. She's a cutie. She's got an air of mystery about her but-"

"I don't-"

"It's just a little crush. If you just relax a little when you talk to her she'll stick around. She doesn't really hang around any of us-"

"I don't like her like that," Jason murmured," cheeks heating. "She's just weird."

"She's weird and you're a reheated corpse," Dick snorted at his retreating back. He'd HAVE to tell Stephanie. She liked knowing when her hunches were right.

[kingdomhate]

Accidently Hurting You Scenarios!

Kylo Ren: You both were in a heated argument, about how Kylo needed to take more time for himself. At first, he seemed calm and gentle about it, but he progressively got more and more impatient, eventually raising his voice at you. But were you frightened? No. Not even close. You were determined to get him to see your side and you were going to do that by any means necessary.

However, as he got more aggressive and demanding, you had barely any time to react before he pushed you. You yelp slightly, and fall backward. Squeezing your eyes shut and attempting to break your fall. But as your head hit the tile and Kylo finally realized what he had done... he was terrified. Apologetic, regretful. He picked you up in his arms and held you to his chest while cursing himself vigorously as he used the bond between you two to sense if you were alright. Once he was a thousand percent you were alright, he laid you down and let you rest. Cuddling very close to you, peppering your neck, check and whatever else he can reach with slow, apologetic and gentle kisses.

Armitage Hux: He was mad, what could he say? He was not in control, he was overcome with rage, practically radiating energy that screamed he was capable of killing anyone, you could barely comprehend it. But alas, you approached him. Why? Because you loved him. You had asked him twice what the problem was and he ignored you. Dismissing you as if you were a mere fly.

And now, in the shared quarters of his and yours, you decided to actually bring it up. Your words were sweet, coaxing and motherly, as if speaking to a child. Of course, Armitage was more keen to being spoken to as an adult, a superior. And that must've been the reason why he let you fall after jerking his arm away from you a little too fast, warranting you to lose balance and fall. Letting out a pained screech as you fell directly on your arm, resulting in the uneasy and blood-curdling sound of bones either breaking or chipping. That immediately changed his mood, as he recognized it was you, his angel. Instinctively, he checked the damage and carried you to the medical wing, patiently and worriedly watching over and waiting. Certain you were okay, he let you rest, muttering apologies as he waited for you to wake up.

Anakin Skywalker: It all happened in a flash, the instinctive need to protect himself when he felt you touch him, it might have been paranoia but it happened nevertheless. He should've known you were only trying to help, why on Earth would you ever have the intention of hurting him? When his Jedi instincts came in and he jerked around and flipped you around violently, he gasped. The sight of your eyes teary and your mouth opened in a frightened manner... how could he forgive himself? He apologized profusely and started explaining why that happened, why he did that. Eventually, you understood and forgave him, smiling and acting as though it was alright, Anakin came to terms with it as well and finally forgave himself as well.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Obi was more or less stressed, but all the same good-mannered as always. However, he had lost patience for some things, such as talking to you. Normally, Obi-Wan was all for speaking to you and getting to the root of the problem but today? He's mood was horrid, he was a mixture of tired and on the edge. He had tried to be patient, he really did. But he had ended up raising his voice and insulting you, calling you a name in which he had never thought he would. That being said, you shut down almost immediately, more so scared for Obi-Wan than yourself. He had never, ever raised anything at you, let alone his voice. So what was going on?

Stress is the first most thing that popped into your head, as you had known Obi-Wan for almost your whole Jedi-incorporated life. So, aside from him calming down, apologizing and reasoning with you, you gave him space. As he was on edge and clearly dealing with too much. He would speak to you once he was calm in control and ready too.

Luke Skywalker: The frustration from once again being denied his right to go to the academy with his friends, was a bit too much for Luke. Of course he had cared enough to tell you and you both talked it out but that was nothing compared to what he couldn't help but want. He wanted to go, he needed to, but he had to stay for another year? It was outrageous. And it warranted Luke to do some uncharacteristic, rebellious things, such as.... sneaking off to meet you in the dead of the night and ride around in his speeder, mostly talking and sometimes making out.

That helped him tremendously in the frustration and pent up tension of being forced to stay. But, upon meeting up with him again for another heavenly make-out session and heart-to heart conversation, he was practically screaming about his frustrations and you were both awe-struck and slightly frightened of this state, as you've never seen Luke so furious before. He had snarled how much he would love to spend time with his friends and take a small break away from you, and how clingy you seemed. That hit a bit too forcefully. You spaced yourself away from Luke for x amount of time and he seemed puzzled as to why you did, but he never asked. A few days later, he had finally seemed to have calmed down, and figured out what he did incorrectly. He apologized for offending you and reassured you that he adored the clinginess of your relationship.

[pillow-princess-diaries]

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚞𝚞𝚢𝚊! 𝚇 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: your boyfriend has a dark secret; and now the cat’s out if the bag.

Pairing: Serial-Killer-Chuuya! X Fem!reader

Tw: murder?? Kinda graphic gore i think? Blood, cunnilingus, safe sex, use of a ribbed condom,dirty talk (psycho is used) after care! (Pls lmk if i missed anything!)

W/C: 1.3k

A/N: Hi There!! Here’s a little chuuya piece because this man lives in my head rent-fuxking-free! Thank you to @chuuyassluttychoker @falloutjuli and @sapphic-serenade for feedback🥰 ilyall frr

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DON'T FOLLOW, YOU'LL BE BLOCKED!

Serial killer chuuya! Who was fully in love with you the moment he saw you

Serial killer chuuya! Who carves out love notes to you across the flesh of his victims

Serial killer chuuya! Who lives out his darkest fantasies with his victims,who imagines you watching as he kills the people who so much as inconvenience you

Serial killer chuuya! Who loves the feeling of holding a life in the palm of his hands and snuffing it out just as easily,but could never even fathom hurting you.

Serial killer chuuya! Who wants you by his side as he kills,he’ll teach u to hold a knife and shoot a gun,he just wants you by his side when he’s at his highest.

Serial killer chuuya! Who treats you like you’re an angel and practically worships the ground you walk on,who’s so devoted to you that if you asked him to kill himself,he would.

Serial killer chuuya! Who tries to keep his clothes clean,to ease your conscience and not raise suspicion. He loves you and would never want you to worry or stress. Perfection is what you deserve, and so a perfect boyfriend is what he’ll be!

Serial killer chuuya! Who goes absolute apeshit on the man who harassed you when you were out with your girlfriends. That bastard thinks he can mess with his doll????? His princess??? Not while he has any say in it!

Serial killer chuuya! Who slowly disects the man antemortem so he feels every second of it,images of your tortured and broken body and blood curdling screams for help driving his anger,ofc none of that happened,but he’s such an over-thinker when it comes to you that the worst case scenarios cross his mind.

Serial killer chuuya! Who enters a sort of trance as he literally rips the man to shreds,he isnt in the alleyway anymore,he’s in a dark room and your beaten and dead body is beside him.your screams for help,for him, playing in his mind like a broken record. How could he let this happen?

Serial killer chuuya! Who cuts the mans chest open and gently pulls at his heart. Who makes sure his victim is still just conscience enough to feel it before he rips the bastard’s heart from his chest,crushing it in his palm and getting blood everywhere.

Serial killer chuuya! Who looks over at your dead body and rushes to you,the blood of your killer now staining your face as he holds you,cradling you in his arms.

Serial killer chuuya! Who lets out the most blood curdling scream of sorrow,melancholy and grief ever heard to mankind,who rocks back and forth and hold you close,his angel now gone back to her kind.

Serial killer chuuya! Who’s broken out of his trance when he feels a hand on his cheek and hears a voice in his ear.

Serial killer chuuya! Who looks up to see you,alive.He’s not in the dark room and you’re not dead.

Serial killer chuuya! Who notices the look of concern in your eyes and then remembers what he was doing,who instantly goes into a panic and starts making excuses just to be silenced by your, “chuu,are you okay?”

Serial killer chuuya! who stands up and pulls you into a kiss,which you eagerly return. Who finally gathers his bearings before saying, “i-i- can explain.”

Serial killer chuuya! Who is caught off guard when you hold his cheek and tell him it’s okay,That you’ve known for a while and dont mind.

Serial killer chuuya!who asks you how you could love a ‘monster’ like him,and almosts melts when you reply, “well,every beast needs his beauty”

Serial killer chuuya! Who picks you up and practically flies you to your shared apartment before entering via the window and then promptly throwing you onto the plush mattress.

Serial killer chuuya! Who answers your puzzles look with a simple “gotta treat my girl for bein’ so good to me,tonight it’s you I’m making scream, angel”

Serial killer chuuya! Who quickly discards his clothes before climbing onto the bed,still covered in blood,ready to fuck you senseless;who looks up at you from his place between your legs for permission,he’d never do anything you didnt want him to!

Serial killer chuuya! Who,the moment he registers your little nod,dives into your pussy,laughing as he notices just how wet you’d become.

Serial killer chuuya! who says,nose against your folds, “looks like my angel’s just as fucked up as me~ did seeing me murdering that bastard turn you on you fuckin psycho”

Serial killer chuuya! Who doesn’t wait for you to answer before he dives back in,his tongue snaking up your wet pussy,lapping up your juices and sucking on your clit,abusing the little nub with how hard he’s going

Serial killer chuuya! who makes you cum just with that,and taking all your slick in without hesitation,when he looks up at you, your release is dribbling down his chin and the lower half of his face is a mess! But you’d be damned if the sight didnt make you moan.

Serial killer chuuya! Who climbs up on top of you,his bloody fingers lifting your clothes up off your body before he feels you up,cupping your tits and gettin blood all over you.

Serial killer chuuya! Who looks down at his leaky shaft and smirks as he rubs his tip along your folds,teasing you,until you BEG

Serial killer chuuya! Who lets you beg for a second before thrusting into your wet hole,who relishes in the feeling of you squeezing his cock and hearing Your sweet whines and moans as he goes deeper and deeper till he’s balls deep,buried to the hilt.

Serial killer chuuya! Who locks you in a mating press,watching as your eyes screw shut,as you moan his name and as your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts.

Serial killer chuuya! Who pulls out just to rut right back into you and pulls out momentarily again to put on a ribbed condom. He isn’t gonna be irresponsible just because he’s horny!

Serial killer chuuya! Who slowly inserts himself back in before fucking you senseless, the speed of his thrusts,combined with the texture of the condom and his expert directing of said thrusts,making you see stars and taking away your ability to speak.

Serial killer chuuya! Who makes you cum a minimum of 4 times before even considering stopping, he’s cum just as much and while you’d love to feel his hot,sticky release coating your walls,he cant risk you getting pregnant, not when he is the way he is.

Serial killer chuuya! Who finally pulls out for the last time and discards the condom before picking you up,bridal style and carrying you to your bathtub,running a bath for you with all your favorite bath-bombs,aroma oils and soaps.

Serial killer chuuya! who washes both you and himseld clean,the water turning a rusty red as you’re both cleansed of the evidence of his crimes.

Serial killer chuuya! who gently dries your hair and body before doing his own and giving you your favorite t-shirt of his.He get’s into his shorts and sleep shirt, changing the sheets to some fresh new ones before laying you down and climbing in beside you,spooning you and snuggling close.

Serial killer chuuya! Who buries his face in the crook of your neck,leaving little butterfly kisses and whispering how you’re too good for him and how he’ll never EVER let anyone hurt you.

Serial killer chuuya! Who can kill like it’s his passion and torture like it’s a game,but who could never hurt you even if he tried and who’d sell his soul to see you happy.

Serial killer chuuya! Who love’s you like a song,keeps you like an oath and is the beast to your beauty.

And finally, serial killer chuuya! Who hopes that just like in the story,you’ll be the one to break his curse, and free him of his sins.

Tag List: @sapphic-serenade @diagonal-queen

All rights reserved © 2023 pillow-princess-diaries. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[deviousdeliciousness]

Jarred Pt. 1

A tiny is rude to a giant, so the giant decides to teach the tiny a lesson - one they'll undoubtedly remember.

Time-out can gain a whole new meaning when you're four inches tall. (And a jar can feel claustrophobic even if you can so easily fit inside.)

Next: Pt. 2

~~~~~~~~

"-Yeah? Well I think you're stupid!" Tee shouted back up to Jack, stomping his foot on the counter for added emphasis and crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

Jack's expression turned blank, then darkened. His jaw clenched, and there was an audible grinding of his teeth.

Tee couldn't help but falter, physically taking half a step back as a dark scowl settled on his giant friend's face. Suddenly, yelling at the much larger being didn't seem like it'd been such a good idea.

"H-hey-" Tee started to stutter, raising his hands in front of himself in a placational manner, but he cut himself off with a surprised squeak as Jack's hand shot out above him, ripping open a cupboard door with far more force than necessary and snatching up something inside.

Tee craned his neck up to see what, and his heart stuttered in his chest as he saw-

A jar.

A jar.

Jack was holding a large glass jar, one of the tall ones nearly twice Tee's height, and he was unscrewing the lid with vicious efficiency. Tee nearly jumped out of his skin when Jack slammed the lid onto the counter, and fight or flight mode finally hit the tiny like a train as he saw the giant's hand menacingly swoop forward in his direction.

Tee wisely chose flight.

He spun on his heel and bolted, his heart all at once hammering up from his chest and into his throat and his legs pumping frantically as he darted across the counter, the back of his neck practically burning with the undoubted glare of the furious giant behind him.

Tee barely made it ten steps.

He let loose a blood-curdling scream as Jack's palm collided with his back, giant fingers curling inwards around him like a Venus flytrap.

He thrashed wildly in the grip, any semblance of rational thought having abruptly fled his mind in place of pure, unadulterated terror, but he just as quickly froze - as still as death - when the fingers around him squeezed just shy of making his bones creak with the pressure, the threat as clear as day and all the more sickeningly petrifying for it.

He whimpered - a short, aborted sound - as his feet lifted up off the the counter, and he had to forcefully repress the urge to uselessly wriggle like a caught fish as the movement came to a stop with him aloft in the air, knowing - dreading - without having to look that he was being held above the opening to the jar.

He sent a desperate, pleading look to the giant - to his friend - but Jack's expression was closed off and so, so cold.

Tee's tentative hope that this was all a sick, twisted joke to get back at him withered and died a horrible death.

In the next moment, he was dropped. He landed awkwardly, barely catching himself from twisting his ankle as he landed hard onto the cool glass bottom of the mason jar, gasping out a shocked breath. He flinched backwards into the glass behind him as the jar was set none-too-gently onto the counter, and he craned his neck up high to stare with uncomprehending, fear-filled eyes at Jack.

The giant peered down at him dispassionately from the open lid of the jar. As if he hadn't just obliterated the carefully built, more than just tentatively hopeful trust a tiny had fully placed in his giant's hands. A gift so rarely given. A gift that was now destroyed.

There was movement in Tee's peripheral, and in the next second, his line of sight to the giant's face was blocked by a solid black lid, one that clacked gratingly against the glass before it begun to be twisted, Jack screwing it back onto the jar with what Tee could only perceive as a detached sense of finality.

"No," the tiny whimpered, sliding down the side of the jar and curling his knees to his chest, arms wrapping around his calves and gripping tight. This couldn't be happening. His - Jack wouldn't do this to him. He wouldn't.

But he had.

The tiny's head smacked into the back of the jar when he flinched as the giant's hand suddenly wrapped around the container, lifting it once more and making Tee's stomach drop into his guts with the too-quick movement.

There was a squeak of the cupboard hinges, and Tee had to quickly blink his eyes (which stung with tears that he refused to acknowledge or dare let fall for fear of them never stopping) as the light around him suddenly dimmed. He peered muzzily at his surroundings, which were ever so slightly distorted through the thick glass.

His breath froze in his lungs as he took in the cold, empty jars all around him, lifeless and covered in a thin layer of dust. None showing any sign of use, of ever - or only the rarest of occasions - seeing the light of day.

He snapped his neck forwards again and frantically scrambled to the front of the jar from where he saw Jack looking down at him, one of the giant's hands already loosely gripping the cupboard door's knob.

Tee shook his head, slightly at first, then with more desperation as his panic renewed with a stomach-dropping vengeance, his palms pressing up against the glass and his eyes wide and irrefutably pleading. He knew the giant wouldn't be able to hear him through the container, but a litany of frantic pleas and cries fell past his lips anyway.

"Please - please Jack don't do this. I'm sorry - I - I won't yell at you, or-or call you stupid or- do anything bad ever again. I was- I was wrong. I was wrong - please! I - you - you were right! About everything! I swear I'll listen to whatever you say, I'll- I'll do whatever you want - j-just - just don't leave me here!"

Jack just continued to stare dully at him, stony expression unchanged except for the briefest flicker in his eyes as hot tears abruptly spilled over Tee's blotchy cheeks.

They weren't enough.

(After all, Jack would have to care for him for his cries to matter.)

Slowly, inexorably, the cupboard door began to shut, and, tone foreboding and so, so sickeningly empty of anything close to concern, consideration, Jack finally spoke in the moment before Tee's world was pitched into terrifying, solitary darkness.

"You'll learn your place."

~~~~~~~~

OOooohoohooohooooo~ a lillll' angsty I know ;33

This one kinda got away from me, but I had fun hehehe

Also I'm posting this sleep-deprived and with exactly zEro brain matter present at the moment, so fingers crossed that it's actually decent *finger guns*

Next: Pt. 2

[s-4pphics]

dial. 3 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 3.4K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst😞, oc being an empath, self-esteem issues, mentions anxiety and panic attacks, ellie ain’t shit, alcohol, mentions of smoking

playlist :p

It’s been three days since you’ve heard from Ellie. 

She left you on read when you reached out the next morning after the party. You tried to get some information out of Dina on her whereabouts, but she shut you down, practically begging you to let you and Ellie’s disastrous relationship rest for your sake. Niah said that she was ready to jump at any moment, but you didn’t want her— or anyone else— in the middle of your conflict. You made a mistake looking to Ellie for approval and you had to deal with it. 

But there was some part of you that couldn’t let this go. You’ve been embarrassed by a good number of people in your lifetime, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into the deepest hole imaginable and never come out whenever it happened, but you’re an adult now. So why is it hitting harder than ever before? 

You never understood why people were so put off by your personality. You always craved companionship and were so giving with your heart, but people just can’t… stand you, you’ve realized. A portion of your heart dies whenever you get blasted for being too much, but you can’t help how you feel. All you wanted to do was make people happy and keep them close, but you’ve only managed to scare them off. 

You talk a lot, and I don’t think you realize it. 

Are you always this… touchy?

Please. Just stop talking for a second. 

It comes off really annoying, not gonna lie. 

You’re really nice but… I dunno, you’re just a lot sometimes. Just ease up. 

You hated that your mom was wrong; kindness, in fact, doesn’t get you where you need to go. 

At least you have your aunt. And Niah. They both accept your clinginess with no grudges. 

You’ve kept your head down on campus, only going to the library to study and back to your dorm. You cut your usual Starbucks visits completely; Reading without caffeine was killing you, but it was better than seeing and hearing Ellie. Plus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everybody was staring at you, waiting for you to fuck up so they could get a good laugh. 

It was the last day of finals, and you couldn’t wait to go the fuck home. You were sick of being on campus and your self-esteem was at an all-time low. You needed your auntie’s food for revival. 

You were desperate for an awfully long break. Hopefully something positive will come of it. 

“Take a break from paaacking. Come eat with me, please, I’m starving!”

Your eyes rolled at Niah’s incessant whines. She knew how tedious you were with your luggage; She couldn’t wait another five minutes? —

“I know you’re cussing me out in your head. Your thoughts are loud, remember that!” She squinted at you while kicking her feet like a child throwing a tantrum. 

You groaned and threw the sweatshirt you’d been folding back into the drawer. How the fuck did universities get away with giving students two days to pack all their essentials right after finals. As if you had any remaining brain cells to wash and fold your laundry. They’re going to hell, for sure!

“Whatchu wanna eat?” You stretched your arms over your head and stood from the floor.

Niah smirked at you, “Arby’s.” 

“… Go to hell— “

She laughed aloud, rolling on her back in her bed, “I wanna fuckin’ sandwich, bro! I dunno why.” 

“This is the worst pre-Christmas goodbye dinner we’ve ever had,” you stared at her blankly. 

“Bitch, we’ve only had two, stop,” she flipped you off, “Dee would support me, ask her to come.” 

You walked over to your desk to pull your phone off the charger, “If she says yes, I’m not going.” 

“Yes the fuck you ar— “

“Shut up, it’s ringing,” the dial tone blared in your ear before Dina answered with a blood curdling scream. You instantly put her on speaker phone. 

You and Niah looked at each other in concern before Dina calmly said, “Hi.” 

“Are you fucking okay? What the hell was that?” Niah shouted. 

“… I can’t be excited that the sem’s over?” 

“… Girl, I swear to god— “

You interrupted your best friend, “Wanna come to Arby’s with us, friend?” 

“…” 

You snickered at her silence and Niah screamed, “Fuck both of y’all! Arby’s is top tier— “

“… Is she fucking serious right now?” 

“Just come so I don’t have to suffer the meat alone,” you begged. 

She scoffed, “… I never thought your gay ass would say that— “ 

“Please just come with us!” 

“Okay! I’m not buying shit, though.” 

“You really think I’m about t’pay for my own meal?! Bring your wallet, suga mama!” Niah beckoned. 

And Dina hung up on you. This was the loudest you’ve laughed in days. 

“On a scale from one to ten: how much d’you hate yourself right now?” 

“Negative forty.” 

Niah was tearing up her curly fries and smokehouse brisket sandwich like no tomorrow. She looks happy; That's all that mattered, you suppose. 

Dina gave Niah her private time with her sandwich and laid her head on your shoulder, whispering, “How are you doing, hon?” 

You shrugged lightly, “I’m alright, I guess. I dunno. I’ll get over it at some point.” 

“You know I never wanted to see you upset over something like this. I’ve known her for so long and love her a lot but… she’s awful sometimes,” she nuzzled closer and your heart warmed. 

“I’ll be okay! I should’ve just listened when you told me,” She didn’t need to know how many times you’ve cried over this recurring situation. 

She sighed and let it go, kissing your clothed shoulder, “Jesse wanted to come but he said fuck arby’s.” 

“Y’all are gonna stop talkin’ shit about my fav— “

“ANYWAYS!” Dina spoke over Niah. “He said he wants his goodbye hug before we all head out tomorrow.” 

“He knows I’ll give him one! I gotta give him his notebook back anyway,” you peered down at her, “Did you know that he doodles you when he’s notetaking? I wanted to cry; they were so fucking cute!” 

She sat up to look at you, “No fucking way!” 

“Yes way!” Niah concurred, “He wants to get you preg— “

You kicked Niah under the table, and she exploded into a fit of giggles while Dina blushed and twiddled her thumbs. 

“… I’ll give him a baby, I guess,” she whispered sheepishly while her cheeks burned. 

You and Niah squealed in excitement. Seeing your friends happy and in love made your heart beam with joy. 

Finals were finally fucking over! 

This was, by far, the sloppiest you’ve ever packed for anything, but you couldn’t wait to see your auntie. You loved being around your friends every day, but you needed your personal schedule back. It’s been so long since you’ve had a self-care day! Your aunt already purchased foot baths and vanilla-scented exfoliant. 

You always get a little teary-eyed whenever you have to say goodbye to Niah even though you were only going to be separated for a month. Being apart from your favorite person is always a bit soul-crushing! 

You made sure she got on her train safely before powerwalking back to your dorm building. You quickly snatched your bag that held two of Jesse’s physics notebooks before catching the bus to his apartment building. You hoped you could catch him before you go to the airport; You still want a hug!

When you got to the front of his complex, you caught a glimpse of Abby hauling her luggage out of the door with an older couple. Probably her parents!

Since when did she live here? Why have you never seen her around? 

Too busy being a whore! 

You wanted to apologize for not reuniting with her at the party, but she most likely didn’t remember you. Everybody was lit, and she seemed eager to mingle—

Your racing thoughts were caught off at the light shout of your name. Abby sat her bags down to wave you over, and a large smile grew on your face. You scurried over to where she was and moved to shake her hand, but she gently pushed it away to pull you in for a hug. 

“You were really gonna greet me like a fucking grandma?” she laughed quietly in your ear. You shuddered; Even with her coat on, you could feel how strong she was! 

“Sorry! I, uh— “

“S’fine,” she pulled away, smiling just as brightly, her cheeks dusted red and snowflakes dusting her lashes, “Missed you at the party.”

You cringed inwardly, “I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to leave you like that; I got caught up with… Dina! With Dina— “

“Mhm,” Her eyes were moving over your face like water. “I was gonna— “

“Abby! Who’s this!” 

You gazed at the cheesing couple behind her before waving ecstatically at them. They seemed sweet with their joyous tones! And wealthy; You peeped her father’s Gucci puffer. Abby’s blush deepened and she sighed. 

“Aren’t you adorable! We’re Abby’s parents— “

You were pulled into warm hugs and given bright greetings while Abby awkwardly shuffled in the corner. You matched their vibrancy, introducing yourself with a genuine grin. You listened intensely while they bragged about Abby being on the Dean’s List two years in a row and how she was going to enroll in the honor roll program. 

But Abby had enough of the boasting, “You guys mind putting this in the car for me?” 

She gently pushed her carry-on into her dad’s arms, and they both departed with merry goodbyes. 

“Sorry, they’re so… yeah.” 

“No, oh my god, they seem so sweet!” 

She shook her head with a bashful grin. She looked so pretty in the snow. 

“I, um…” You started, putting yourself in the hot seat. “I’m really sorry about flaking at the party. I hope we’re… okay?” 

“More than okay,” Her tone quieted. “Just as long as you promise to spark with me next time?” 

Butterflies exploded in your chest and tummy. You promised to do so with glossy eyes. 

“Good,” she smirked before pointing towards her complex. “Needa be checked in?” 

“No, just buzzed, if you don’t mind? I’ll only be a couple minutes.” 

“Course, c’mon.” 

You tried to ignore the fluttering of your heart at Abby’s hand at the small of your back as you trailed through the snow. 

Abby ensured you got her number before seeing you onto the elevator. She made her leave with one last weighted gaze at your appearance. The small space was burning up with you in here! 

The second you stepped off the elevator, your ears were filled with booming voices from down the hall. The floor was quiet due to its decreased occupancy, so you could hear Dina’s screaming clearly. What the fuck is going on! 

You bustled down the pathway until you reached Jesse and Ellie’s front door, and you instantly regretted coming to return his belongings. 

“You’re being a fucking cunt, that’s why!” 

“I don’t give a fuck!” 

Ellie’s angered timbre made you pause at the entrance of their residence. You could’ve sworn she went home already. Why the hell were they fighting! 

“She literally did nothing wrong! Why the fuck did you even pursue her in the fucking first place! I told you how she is and now you’re acting surprised that her feelings are hurt!” 

The shaky breath you'd been holding left you with the last bit of your dignity. There was no way they were talking about you. 

“That’s not my fucking problem! I was clear about my intentions when we first started fucking just like everyone else. She has to deal with that shit on her own time, I’m not a fucking babysitter.” 

“It’s not about babysitting! It’s about being a decent human being! Maybe stop leading her on and making her seem like you— “

“I’m not making her seem like shit! She’s clingy as fuck on her own. She would’ve gotten attached regardless.” 

The more their argument pursued, the more upset you got. You didn’t realize how tight your fists were clenched until you felt your nails pierce the skin of your palms, but you hardly cared. Your heart was crumbling to pieces and the shards were slicing you open, and the pain overtook your sadness. And fury. You could almost hear your mother scolding about emotional control.

Your breaths got heavier the more you tried to steady them, tears jerking in your eyes while they went back and forth about you. 

You didn’t even have time to register how insane you must’ve looked standing at their front door crying before booking it down the hallway, frantically pressing the elevator button so you could get the fuck out of here. You tried to bring yourself back down on the ride to the first floor, but your techniques weren’t working. Your heaves were erratic and coarse, your lungs burning with each harsh exhale through your nose. 

The elevator door opened, and you left in a rush, pushing through all the exit doors of the building until you rushed into a larger frame. 

You could hear Jesse calling out your name, asking if you were all right and what happened, but you pushed him off you and bolted for the main entrance. You ignored the calls of his name and shoved the doors open, not even bothering to wait for the last bus pick-up. You need to get home now; Your flight wasn’t for another six hours, but you couldn’t stand to be here a second longer. 

The tears on your face frosted over as every ridicule from your past and present came crashing down on you on your way to the dorm. The mockery, the bullying, the lies from people you trusted.

No matter where you go, it all follows you like a shadow. 

You turned your phone off the second you arrived at the airport. 

Going through TSA was such a hassle; You were so disoriented that the security had begun to get suspicious and asked if you had anything to drink before you arrived. And people were staring. Does the humiliation ever stop!

You shut your phone off when you arrived, ignoring the multiple calls from Dina and Jesse, and sent one last message to your auntie about how you couldn’t wait to see her; Ellie even sent you one before your screen went dark. Fuck her apparent guilt; You swore to block her the second you touched down. 

You made yourself as comfortable as you could in the airport chairs since you were going to be here a while, and just cried. Your tears fell from the remaining wait hours until boarding. 

You calmed a bit when the plane took off, silently thanking your aunt for booking you a window seat. The clouds were always gorgeous during winter. 

You felt a little hand gently tap your forearm, and you turned to see a little boy holding a tissue in his hand for you. You cried harder and accepted, bumping your fist against his smaller one as a thank you. 

You didn’t sleep the entire plane ride home. 

You hugged your aunt like you hadn’t seen her in years. 

Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise. 

You sobbed into her shoulder the second she stepped out of her car and just held her. And she held you back. 

Until the fucking security complained about her blocking traffic. She gave your head dozens of kisses before grabbing your bags to throw into the back seat. 

You both scurried into the car and she pulled out driving onto the nearly empty road and parked her car. 

“Talk to me. What happened.” 

Your breaths were still trembling, but you made one request. 

“C-Can,” you cleared your throat when it cracked, “Can we reschedule our self-care day?” 

“Of course we can, baby. When do you wanna do it?” Her brows pulled down as she cooed. 

“W-When we get home?” 

Your aunt flew down the freeway like a bat out of hell. 

“I just don’t understand why this keeps happening to me,” you’re going to cry again. 

“People just fucking suck. There doesn’t have to be a reason.”

It was three in the morning, and you were still going on about everything that’s happened: how you met Ellie, what you two did over the past couple of weeks, how she talked about you behind your back. You watched your aunt’s hands as she filed your nails to perfection under the beaming lamp while you babysat your mimosa, recalling all the events that happened twelve hours ago. 

“Y’know,” she shook her head as she buffed your nails, “Your parents told me they were scared of this happening to you. You’re too fucking sweet for your own good.” 

“Because that’s how they raised me! They always wanted me to be the bigger person when something happens.” 

Hold your head high and turn the other cheek. All the benefits of that will come later, even if you don’t think they will. 

Your dad’s repeated mantra always made you feel lighter when you were young and needed comfort. But now, it’s starting to make you feel guilty because… frankly, you’re still fucking pissed. 

Your aunt paused her work to down the rest of her mimosa, shaking her head when she sat the glass down, her eyes boring into your soul. 

“I never wanna steer you in the wrong direction, but at some point, enough is enough. People have shit all over you for years, and you allowed it. Did you not confront them when it happened?” 

… You stayed silent. She sighed. 

You knew your aunt was insightful, but she was never this serious. You always enjoyed being around her because she was fun and allowed you an outlet: the cool aunt who didn’t have rules, but the burning look in her eyes confirmed that she meant every word. 

Everyone makes revenge seem negative, but to me… It got me and mom through a lot of shit. Maybe that’s why she never wanted you to think of it as a problem solver. 

You recall your aunt sneaking stories about how she and your mom used to jump bullies at school whenever you came home with tears in your eyes from people messing with you, but you never knew the extent of their retaliations. You remember being in disbelief envisioning your mom hurting somebody, even if they deserved it. 

“But you’re an adult… you can make your own decision— “

“What’d you have in mind?” 

Your aunt’s eyes met yours with an arched brow, the glasses on her face shifting with every twitch of her nose. You shocked yourself. 

The corner of her lips came up into a devilish smile. Her shoulders lifted in a cocky shrug. 

“I gotta couple.” 

You didn’t touch your phone until after the holidays. You and your aunt were having a ball, going shopping and sipping Moscato while you both schemed, and you didn’t want to disrupt the peace with negativity. 

When your screen came back to life, an influx of text and missed call notifications rushed through with alarm alerts. Most were from Niah and Dina begging you to return their calls, but you had one… one text from the only person you didn’t want to talk to. 

You made sure to answer Niah first. 

And then Dina. 

You took a deep before opening Ellie’s message and… what the fuck is this—

…

That’s the apology? 

She shouldn’t have said all that? Is she fucking serious? Everyone already knows that; She probably never gave a proper apology in her fucking life!

You finally, after years of being tormented and belittled, allowed anger to overtake the graciousness that your parents instilled ever since you were in second grade. Your fingers tapped the keyboard, expression turned in aggravation. 

The second you tried to block her, the text bubble popped up. 

You nearly snapped your device in two. 

The fucking audacity! Your fingers typed out words that you never even said aloud before you paused. 

Why the fuck are you wasting your time? She never cared about anything you had to say, anyway. She would ghost you for days, only reaching out to ask if she could smoke you out. You closed your conversation with her, and sparked one with someone who you knew would be of service. 

Your heart pounded in your chest when she answered. You suddenly couldn't wait to get back to campus.

hi yall omg

cant wait 2 write p4 LOOOOOL

squirting contest?

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teaser, 1, 2, four, five

[gtbutterfly]

hide - gt one shot

hey, so I tried writing a one shot in an hour. I want to write more one shots like this in the future, so feel free to let me know whet you think of this one and what I can improve. criticism is appreciated.

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It had just begun and I was already out of breath. We were frantically running around looking for places to hide. We were in a forest during early fall on a cool night, all the leaves were on the ground, crunching under our feet. I ended up hiding in a bush, next to a friend of mine. I didn’t know where anyone else hid. It was dark outside, so no matter where, it should have been hard to find them, at least, for most humans. Soon, almost thirty seconds had passed. We couldn’t quite hear the footsteps in the distance, but we could feel them in the ground.  The vibrations were like feeling the face of the drum when it’s hit. They buzzed through our bones as the source of them got closer. Soon, we could hear the creature's footsteps thumping as they hit the ground. My friend was nervous, he had his hands over his mouth to cover the sound of his heavy breathing, which didn’t work very well. His breathing got louder and faster as we heard a scream in the distance. It just claimed its first victim. Then, the vibrations and footsteps got closer and closer. I could barely see the outline of the creature, standing as tall as the trees, their eyes scanning the ground and glimmering in the moonlight. I ran. I started sprinting as fast as I could from the bush, not wanting my partner's breathing to give me away. 

“Hey!” he yelled at me, shocked at my fleeing. I heard them scream as they were caught moments later, but I didn’t dare look back to witness their fate; I kept running and running, trying to distance myself from the large being.

I kept running until I got to a ditch in the ground. I got down on my stomach to hide from the entity that was chasing me. As I looked up from where I was at the naked trees above me. Someone else was hiding in them, sitting on a thick branch and clinging to the trunk. My guess is that they thought since the creature would be looking on the ground, it would be smart to hide up high. Unfortunately for them, it followed the direction I ran in. The white highlights of its eyes were visible from the dozens of yards away where they were standing, and glaring straight at the person in the tree with no emotion at all. The person in the tree panicked as it started to move towards them. They tried to climb down so they could run, going down branch from branch, but they grabbed one that was too weak to hold them. They let out a blood-curdling scream as they fell. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see them hit the ground, but they never did. I never heard the sound of bones cracking, or they’re body hitting the ground, or their groans of pain. I opened my eyes. The creature caught her. She was in their hand, shaking but unhurt, as it looked down at her. I quietly got up and started running again the the creature was preoccupied. I counted the number of victims that the entity had claimed. The only people left were me, and some other person. I happened to run into them while sprinting through the forest. After we both processed the pain of the impact, they whispered.

“What are you doing here? This is my hiding spot,” They asked,

“I’m trying to avoid them, we’re the only two left,” I whispered back,

“Well go somewhere else,” they said, “I don’t need you attracting them to me,” Just then, the entity was heard stepping towards us. I looked behind me to see it smiling, practically a couple of steps away from us with its size. “Damnit!”

We both started running as fast as we could, the creature basically seconds away from grabbing us off the ground. Unfortunately, the person I was running aside from had always been a faster runner than me, and I had been running this whole time, so I was already tired. It looked like I was a goner, about to be snatched up by the creature at any second. But then, the other person tripped on the root of a tree. I immediately passed them and heard their yelling from behind me as they were picked up by the entity. I was the last survivor. The winner. All I had to do was get home-

THUD! “Owww!”

I rolled my foot on a rock and fell to the ground. I skinned my arms trying to stop myself from falling. Slowly, the entity stood over me. I started breathing heavily as its white eyes glared at me from above. My arms ached in pain as I held them. It got on its knees, staring at me with its large eyes. It opened its mouth…

“Oh my goodness, are you ok? Your arms look like they need to be bandaged,” the giant said, looking worriedly at me. They helped me up with their index finger. 

 “I fine, big guy, just some scraps,” I said, dusting myself off. “That was a pretty good game. You really good at hide and seek,”

“I didn’t go too far again, did I” they asked, embarrassed,

“Of course not, you did great,” I said. Then, there was a muffled voice coming from the giant’s pocket;

“Hey, is the game over? Can we come out?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, of course,” The giant pulled their “victims” out of their pocket and gently placed them on the ground with his palm. 

“Bro, why did you run away like that at the bush?” The person I was hiding with earlier asked me.

“Your breathing gave us away,” I said,

“Would you have done that if we were really being chased by a giant monster?” he asked,

“Well, probably if I'm being honest.”

“Scew you,” He said, turning away from me. The girl that fell out of the tree looked up at the giant.

“Thanks for catching me back there, I’m not good with climbing trees,” She said,

“No problem, anytime,” the giant said, smiling at her. The last person besides me to get caught scoffed,

“Why do you always have to be it when we play games like this?” They asked the giant. “Uh, because I’d be really easy to find?” the giant shrugged,

“Fine, let's go again, and have you be one of the hiders this time, just to make sure.” they crossed their arms.

“Nah, it's getting late, let's go home.” one of my friends said. 

“Yeah,” said someone else.

“Need me to carry you guys?” the giant asked us. We all nodded. So they picked us all up again, and we went home.

[tasteleeknow]

spiderweb

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, roommates to lovers, brothers best friend.  content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 7.4k

summary: he’s spent so long in denial. when he finally realises you’ve trapped him in your web, he panics. mutual pining. minho’s pov.

He startles awake at a high pitched scream before tumbling out of bed and scrambling to his feet. “Minho!” you scream again just as he’s swinging the door open that separates your bedrooms. He rushes into the room, kicking something across the floor as he struggles to locate you in the darkness. “What is it?! What’s wrong?” he asks, the frantic tone of his voice matching his clumsy movements. That’s when he spots you, perched on top of your dresser in the corner of your room.

warnings: profanity. dirty talk. pet names. afab!reader. virgin!reader. unprotected intercourse. oral (f. rec). 

“It went under the bed!” you cry, pointing to the single bed pushed up against the wall beside him. 

He pauses, sucking in a breath as he gathers himself. “It?” 

“Spider…It was huge. It fell from the ceiling.” 

He knew you were afraid of spiders but the blood curdling scream that had woken him had sent a chill through his body. You’d made him feel like his world was ending… for a bug. 

“Please,” you beg. “Please just kill it.” 

He looks between you and the bed again, then turns to leave. 

“No! Minho! Min, please. I—” he presses his hands over his ears as the door closes behind him, belly flopping back onto his bed. He groans.

He can still hear your muffled shouts for a few more minutes, pulling his hands from his ears when you finally fall silent. He rolls onto his side, away from the door. He struggles to sleep again, guilt stirring as he battles whether to go in there and kill the fucking spider for you. After a few more minutes, the door creaks open—light filtering from your room to his. He doesn’t move, pretending to be asleep as the door shuts again. The bed dips as you crawl in, pulling the blankets back and pressing yourself as close to him as possible.

He had never agreed to living with you. You were his roommate’s little sister. He’d agreed to live with Chris, not the add on. You were closer than any siblings he’d ever known, spending more time at your brother's apartment than most of his friends. As a result, you were the person he saw most besides his roommate. Chris had suggested turning the small study adjoined to Minho’s room into a room for you. For night’s when you fell asleep on the couch, he’d said. He’d made it sound like a precaution, to be used rarely—if ever. Minho had agreed offhandedly, hardly paying attention. “Sure, whatever,” he’d said, distracted by his phone. When he’d walked into his room with a towel around his waist the next night and found you sprawled out on his bed, he’d nearly hit the ceiling. 

“What the fuck!” he’d shouted, gripping his towel. 

You’d looked up at him, bursting into laughter before leisurely rolling off his bed and tapping him on the shoulder. “Sorry,” you said with a smile, disappearing into the small study and closing the door. He’d suggested getting a lock on the door and when Chris had pointed out it would lock you in, Minho had nodded. “Yes, that’s the idea,” he’d said. He’d groaned and wandered off when Chris had argued he could not in fact lock his little sister into a room with no way out. 

So here he was, his roommate's little sister practically living in his closet. He groans, attempting to shuffle away from the warm body pressed to his back. “Get out,” he mumbles. 

“Please, Min. I can’t sleep in there with it running around. What if it… crawls on me?” you whisper, shivering against him. So instead I have you crawling on me, he thinks. You yelp when he suddenly turns, trapping your hands above your head as he hovers over you. 

“Can you not be a pain in my ass for one single day?” he snaps. 

You’re completely still under him, looking up at him with wide eyes. Your eyes were another thing. The way you’d look at him drove him fucking insane. He knows the only reason he’d been able to walk out of the room and leave you perched on your dresser was because the lights were off. He couldn’t see your eyes. He groans, dropping his head to your neck for a moment and then rolling off you. 

“Under the bed?” he asks, staring up at the ceiling. He’d kill the fucking spider and then you’d leave and he could roll over and pretend you weren’t a thin wall away from him. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. He climbs over you, grabbing his phone from the bedside table.

He searches everywhere, under the bed, up the walls. He finds it behind the dresser, the one you’d been perched on. By the time he’s caught it and dropped it out your window into the bushes below, you’ve fallen fast asleep—curled up under his covers. He places his phone down on the bedside table gently then crawls over you, settling himself as far away from you as he can. He knows there's a perfectly good bed free in the room he’d just come from but he’s not letting you kick him out. His bed was objectively more comfortable. 

He stares at the wall for a while, hyper aware of your soft breathing behind him. When he gives in and rolls over he rolls his eyes at the hair falling over your face. It’s a wonder you’re still breathing. He reaches out slowly, then very carefully, he lifts it from your face—settling the soft strands over your shoulder. 

He sits up, grabbing one of the many pillows that sit against the headboard and placing it between your bodies. Then he rolls over again, resuming his staring contest with the wall. When he wakes again he processes two things: it was still dark and there was a body wrapped around him. You were practically draped over him, an arm around his waist and one leg thrown over his hip. You were so warm. He closes his eyes again just as a door slamming somewhere in the apartment jolts you awake. He feels it, the way you tense up and slowly lift your limbs from him—obviously assuming he’s still asleep. He doesn’t move and the bed rocks with your movement just as the bedroom door swings open. 

“Chris,” you whisper, “get out.” 

“What are you doing in—” 

The door shuts, cutting him off. Minho sits up—pushing his hands through his hair. Why the fuck was his roommate awake at this hour? And what was he doing slamming doors? He falls back against the pillows. He can hear them moving around out there, the sound of the water running through the pipes points to one of them being in the kitchen or bathroom. He could get up. He could check whether his roommate saw his little sister crawl out of his bed in the early hours of the morning. Minho turns his head, eyes fixing on the pillow you’d slept on. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t be a fucking moron. He reaches out, snatching the pillow and pulling it to his face, ignoring his own internal monologue. He inhales deeply. It smells like your shampoo. “Fuck!” he shouts, throwing the pillow across the room, knocking something off his dresser. 

It takes less than a minute for the door to open and he sits up to see you poke your head around the door. “You alright? What was that?” you ask. 

He trails his eyes up your bare legs, remembering how they felt wrapped around him. “Why is Chris up?” he asks, hoping the darkness disguises where his eyes had been. 

You step into the room and take a few hesitant steps towards the bed before stopping—twisting a ring around your finger. “He’s pulling an all-nighter,” you answer. 

“Why’d he come in here?” 

You walk over to the bedside table, picking up the headphones Minho had borrowed from his roommate the day before. You wave them around, a silent answer. He watches you hesitate, taking a half step backwards towards the door. 

“I got rid of it,” he offers. “The spider.” 

You look down at your hands, fiddling with the headphones. “Thank you,” you say, your tone making him feel like jumping out of bed and pushing you against the wall. So soft, like he’d bought you a house and not killed a bug. “I’m… sorry for falling asleep. You should have woken me.” 

He knows that. He should have kicked you out of his bed the second you crawled in, dragged you out if he had to. His eyes drop the headphones you’re still fiddling with, the ones belonging to his roommate—your brother. 

“You’re right,” he says, “I should have.” He rolls over, facing the wall. 

“Thank you again,” you whisper. He waits for you to leave the room, door closing gently behind you. Then he gets up, marching over to the pillow on the floor and crawling back into bed with his loot. He wraps himself around it, falling asleep to the scent of you surrounding him. 

“I need her out,” he says to Chris the next day, reaching past him to grab a glass from the cupboard. He’d woken up this morning with the pillow still held tight to his body, morning wood pressed up into it. He hadn’t been able to jerk off freely since you’d practically moved into his room, grumbling as he’d stumbled into the shower to relieve himself. He’d made up his mind the second he’d released into his hand, his palm pressed flat against the bathroom wall to steady himself. This was the final straw.

“Why?” his roommate asks, stirring his coffee. 

“She’s in my space… and she doesn’t pay rent.” 

“You don’t either,” Christ points out, blowing across the surface of his drink. He’s right. He owned the place, letting Minho move in when he had nowhere else to go.

Minho sighs, placing his glass down on the bench a little too hard. “I just don’t want her here, yeah? Please.” 

“Chris?” your soft voice pulls both men’s attention to the doorway. Minho’s eyes take in the black t-shirt he’s been missing, then his gaze drops down your legs to your fluffy socks. He sucks in a breath before moving to your face. Your eyes are watery and he wants to die. “I don’t mind, really. I know I spend too much time here…I get it,” you say, voice soft and quiet—like you’re speaking to a stranger and not the two people who knew you best in the world. 

His roommate places his mug down quickly. “You don’t need to spend less time here. We’ll just move things around a bit so Minho has his own space, okay?” 

“No, I do. I…don’t get along that well with my roommates and…I like it here more, I guess. I shouldn’t have pushed in.” You look up at him, wide watery eyes meeting Minho’s directly. He holds his breath. “I’m sorry,” you say, finishing him off.

“Don’t get along?” Chris asks.

Your eyes drop to your hands, playing with your ring again. “They’re a little louder than me, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

His roommate moves past him, taking a few steps towards his sister. “It’s a big deal if it’s making you not wanna be there,” he says.

“I’m just… alone most of the time. They’re always loud and hanging out together and I end up in my room alone. It’s silly. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” You take a step back through the door and Minho catches himself as he goes to take a step to follow you. Your brother follows you instead, the way it should be. He looks across the kitchen to the sink and quickly walks over to turn the tap on high, then he walks to the doorway—pressing himself against the wall so he can eavesdrop. You both speak in hushed tones, obviously assuming Minho is minding his own business—like he should.

“Stay, please,” Chris says. He sounds exhausted. Minho has no idea when his friend had slept last. He was always doing this to himself, pushing himself too far. It just adds to his guilt. His friend was letting him live in his place for free and here he was, stirring up problems for him just because he was struggling to keep his dick in his pants. 

“Do you…know why he doesn’t like me?” you whisper, unaware Minho was lurking around the corner. He should show himself, he should. He’s always thinking about what he should and shouldn’t do. Never listening to his own advice. 

“He likes you. He just wants his own space. It’s not about you, I promise.” 

Minho drops his head against the wall, cringing at the small thud it makes. Chris was wrong. It was entirely about you. 

“Just stay,” Chris continues, “I’m gonna sleep for a few hours and then we’ll rearrange some things, yeah? It’s fine. Stay.” 

“I-”

Minho reveals himself, cutting you off before you can argue again. “Stay. We’ll talk about it when he wakes up.” 

Your eyes flick between his, your brows rising at his sudden appearance. Then you nod, arms wrapping around yourself. 

“Alright,” your brother says, “I’m going to bed.” 

Minho feels like his roommate takes the oxygen from the room with him as he leaves, leaving him alone with his little sister wearing his t-shirt. If you hadn’t just overheard him begging your brother to kick you out, he’d have bugged you about it; made you tell him why you’d stolen one of his favourite shirts. He loved the way you’d get flustered, attempting to explain yourself.

“I have some work to do today, so I’ll just… be in my room,” you say, taking small steps away from him. 

Minho opens his mouth, then realising he has no idea what to say, closes it again—offering you a weak nod instead. You turn quickly, practically running from him. It feels a million times worse than when you’re smothering him. 

He goes for a walk, attempting to distract himself from the morning’s events. When he finds a bench overlooking a pond, pigeons pecking around in the grass around it, he takes a seat. He attempts to zone out, just…think about nothing. An old woman joins him after a while, pulling a large bag of cut up grapes from her trolley and dropping them around her as the ducks approach from the water. Before he knows it he’s surrounded by birds, his peaceful spot suddenly a hub of activity. 

“What are you looking so gloomy for?” the old woman asks him, dropping a few more grapes on the ground at her feet. 

“Oh, I’m just tired,” he offers lazily, an obvious lie. 

She’s quiet for a moment, the sounds of the birds around them filling the silence. Then she speaks again. “My grandchildren tell me I’m good at offering advice. Maybe they’re just trying to keep me happy, but I’ll offer it to you for free if you want to tell me the truth.” 

He looks up at the woman beside him, her kind eyes cradled by deep creases. He sighs, leaning back. “I-I think I love someone.” 

It's the first time he’s admitted it to himself and hearing the words in his own voice startle him a little. Love. He hadn’t even meant to say it. He’d intended to say ‘like’. His brows furrow at his own freudian slip.

“Is that something to be sad about?” 

He sighs. “I shouldn’t... feel this way about her.” 

“Why not?” she questions, tipping the remainder of her grapes onto the ground.

He presses his fingers to his right temple, attempting to rub his headache away. “She’s…my friend’s sister. He wouldn’t be happy about it. He’s.. done a lot for me.” 

“Has he said he disapproves?” 

Minho frowns. “No, but I know he wouldn’t like it. I’m not…doing well in life. I’m a burden.” 

They’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of the birds feeding filling the silence. “This friend who has done a lot for you… do you think he loves you?” 

Did Chris love him? “I…don’t know. He likes me enough.” 

They both fall quiet again, the ducks starting to wander away—finished with their meal. Minho had never stopped to consider why Chris let him live with him for free or why he helped him out when he was looking for jobs and getting nowhere. Why he stuck his neck out for him at his company and got him a position there. He was so busy being grateful he never thought about why he’d done it all for him. He supposed he probably did love him. It made sense. That was the type of person his friend was. He’d do anything for the people he loved. He’d seen it first hand with all he did for you. 

“If your friend did approve of you… and this girl, if she felt the same way you do… would you tell her?” 

He nods, without hesitation.

“Then stop sitting around looking gloomy. You have a chance to add some more joy to your life,” she says, standing up and gathering her belongings. She holds out her hand to him and when he places his palm in hers, she merely squeezes him gently. “Take it. Always take it,” she says. “That is the point of it all.” 

When he gets home the door between your rooms is closed. It’s the first time he can remember you closing it yourself. He was always the one to close it on you. He thinks about what you’d said earlier. You’d been feeling closed off and isolated from the people you’d live with. You’d come here to feel closer to someone and one of the first things he’d tried to do was lock you in. He knocks quickly. Two quiet raps, so quiet it makes him feel like a coward. When you swing the door open the first thing he notices is you’ve taken off his t-shirt, replacing it with one of your own long sleeved shirts. This sight alone is upsetting enough but then his eyes move up to yours and he wants to run, turn and run out the door for good. You’ve been crying. There had been a delay before you’d opened the door and he imagines you wiping at your eyes, attempting to hide what he’d done to you. 

“Is Chris awake?” you ask, pulling your sleeves down over your hands. 

“No.” 

Your brows pull together, obviously confused why he would come to you if not to inform you of that. He turns, walking over to his bed and collapsing down onto the edge. He bends over, resting his head in his hands. Your fluffy socks appear at his feet and he looks up, accepting the harsh truth once and for all. He loved you. He should run to his friend now, shake him awake and break the news. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, sitting down next to him. 

He turns to look at you, resisting the urge to wipe some of the wetness you’d missed around your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says instead. “I didn’t mean what I said.” 

“You don’t have to take it back now. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.” 

He groans, falling onto his back and sucking in a deep breath before sitting up again. He turns, facing you fully. “I want you here. I want you here all the time. I promise.” 

“No, you don’t. I’m not stupid.” 

He wants to push you onto your back, hold you down like he had last night—make you understand. He could show you with his lips. Show you the things he didn’t know how to say. He shakes his head. “I know, I know you’re not stupid. I’m the fucking moron here,” he groans. 

Your soft hand reaches out to cover his, pulling it into your lap. “Don’t say that,” you whisper. 

He turns your hands over so he can play with your fingers, comparing the sizes of your hands, twisting the ring you’re always playing with. When his mind drifts to imagining what kind of engagement ring you’d like he pulls back quickly, startled by his own train of thought. He jumps off the bed, dropping his hands to his side—unsure what to do with himself. 

You stand, taking a step closer to him. “It’s okay, Min. I’m used…to this kind of thing. I get attached to people and it’s too much for them. I’m your friend’s little sister.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. Friend’s little sister. Wait, attached? He replays your words through his mind. 

“Attached?” he questions. 

You look up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. “I like you, Min,” you say, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it wasn’t the thing he wanted to hear most. “When I find people I like, I latch on. I know that.” 

“I like you, too,” he responds quickly. He hopes it doesn’t come across as desperate. 

You huff out a laugh, breaking his heart. He watches you walk around him, taking small steps back towards your room. “It’s alright, Min. I’ll leave you alone, promise.” You don’t believe him. Say something, his brain screams. Do something. He listens to his internal monologue for once, taking two large steps towards you and wrapping an arm around your waist. He presses his hand gently to the side of your face, directing your eyes to his.

“I like you, too,” he repeats, flicking his eyes between yours—begging you to hear him. Your lips part, brows pulling together as you process his words. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, taking the opportunity to feel you like this—your skin soft against his calloused fingertips. Then you take a large step back, his arms dropping to his sides as he releases you. 

“I don’t…What do you mean?” 

“I like you,” he repeats again. 

“Yes, I heard you. I don’t understand what you mean.” 

He wants to scream, frustrated with the concept of language. He wishes he could just send you his feelings, show you how his heart races everytime you walk in the front door. How your laugh made him feel like writing music. How he’d stroked himself this morning just to the thought of your soft thigh thrown over his hip. He takes a few steps back, resuming his position at the edge of his mattress. The room is quiet as he gathers his thoughts. He lifts his head as you approach him, sitting between his legs and resting your hands on his knees. 

“Tell me what you mean, please,” you ask. 

“I didn’t wake you up last night because I didn’t want to,” he confesses quickly, before he can talk himself out of it. “I wanted to crawl into bed with you and pretend it was normal; pretend it was just something we did. Then… you… you were wrapped around me when I woke up and I was angry that Chris woke you. I-I was angry he took you from me,” he finishes, looking down at you. He leaves out the part where he wrapped himself around your pillow, pretending it was you. 

“You like me?” you whisper, hands moving from his knees up his thighs a little. 

He smiles, a weight lifting off his shoulders. You understood. “Mm, I like you,” he whispers back. 

He watches as you lift yourself onto your knees, shuffling a little further between his legs and wrapping your arms around his torso—the side of your face pressed into his stomach. The ways he’d so often imagined you kneeling between his knees weren’t quite so innocent. This version is so… you. His heart swells as he lifts his hand to your head, fingers ghosting over your hair just as you pull back. He’s not prepared at all when you practically dive at him, pushing him down against the mattress. He gazes up at you as you mount him, trying to process the rapid shift of his emotional state. He’s not sure what he’s expecting but when you lie down over him, pressing your body into his—he is not disappointed. Your ear is pressed to his chest, fluffy socks brushing against his bare thighs.

He laughs lightly, folding his arms over you. You lift your head, looking up at him. “Is this okay?” you ask.

“Mm, s’okay.” 

You press your head back to his chest, humming in contentment. He feels like he could levitate off the bed and float into space. He can smell your shampoo perfectly from here, reminding him of the pillow he’d slept with. He sighs, indulging in the much warmer reality. 

Then the water pipes in the wall by his head come to life, reminding him of the other body in the apartment. He tenses, sitting up quickly—pulling you up with him. He doesn’t have the heart to push you off his lap. 

“Min?” you question. “What is it?” 

“Your brother.” 

“What about him?” you ask, a pretty little line forming between your brows. He reaches to smooth it out.

“You should get off,” he whispers, hoping very much that you don’t. 

You drop your arms from his neck. He misses them immediately. “Because of Chris? Did he say something?” 

Minho shakes his head. “He wouldn’t like this. I haven’t… I haven’t asked him.” 

You’re quiet for a moment and he listens intently to the sound of the pipes, indicating his friend was busy and not about to enter the room and find his little sister in his lap. “Ask him what?” you finally ask. 

What would he ask him? He’d been so focused on what he’d say to you on his walk home he hadn’t even had time to consider how he’d approach his friend. “I… don’t know. If he’s okay with this, I guess.” 

“This?” you question, forcing him to voice his greatest desire. 

“If he’s okay with me…asking if you’ll have me. If he’s okay with us being together.” 

You smile, threading your fingers in his hair. He blinks, attempting not to let a satisfied hum slip from his lips. “I don’t need my brother's permission to date you, Min. I’m a grown woman, yeah?” you say, eyes trailing over his face. “You can just ask me.” 

“He might…not think I’m enough for you.” 

You laugh softly, the sound igniting a burst of light in his chest. Music. “You’re his best friend. I can’t imagine he’d think anyone else in the world deserved me more,” you pause, brushing the hair that flops over his forehead out of his eyes. Your fingers are gentle, like he’s made of porcelain. It makes him want to punch a pillow, or kiss you. Either would do. “Besides, that’s up to me to decide,” you finish. 

“I presume by the way you just jumped on me you’ve decided I am… good enough,” he says. His own voice sounds foreign to him, light and breathy. 

You smile, leaning forward a little and pressing your soft lips to his. He feels like he could vibrate, his heart beating so hard he wonders if you can hear it. The sounds of the pipes fade away along with the rest of the world. He didn’t give a fuck about any of it. How could he when you were in his lap, your sweet lips against his. 

“Would you like…I mean-I…I’d like you to fuck me.”  

His head spins, blinking slowly as he processes the words you’d just muttered against his mouth. He hadn’t heard you curse once, not in the years he’d known you. He wants you to curse with the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. He presses his hands to the bed beside him as he squeezes his eyes shut. Chris. His friend. His very good friend who had done so much for him. He should definitely talk to him and not fuck his little sister while he showers. 

He feels your lips brushing against his again. He resists pushing forward to connect them properly. “Please?” you whisper. 

A low pained sound escapes him, his hands lifting to grip your waist. “I want to,” he whispers. “Your—”

“If you say brother right now I’ll scream. I fuck who I want.” You move your lips to his throat, lips brushing over his skin. “And I want you.” 

He stands up quickly, setting you gently on your feet then stumbling backwards—practically crashing into the wall. He looks to the closed door then to the wall where water is still running through the pipes. You approach him like a siren to a sailor, attempting to drown him. He could ignore you. He could run and live to see another day. Or… he could let you take him, drown in utter bliss. Surely it would be worth any consequences. He’s struggling to see past you, right here in front of him—asking him to swim. 

“Joy,” he mutters to himself. He surges forward, practically colliding with you in his desperation. You squeak as he crashes his mouth into yours, stumbling backwards a little before he catches you. He lifts you, walking towards the bed and turning at the last second—collapsing back onto the mattress, taking you with him. Your soft giggles into his neck are the final note in your siren song. He wants to lift your head and tell you you’ve won, he’s lured. Instead he brings your lips to his again, luxuriating in the feeling of your body pressed onto his. 

“Can you be quiet?” you whisper. “I want you, but you’ll need to be quiet.” 

He nods and you climb off him, walking to his door and turning the lock. He reaches down to readjust himself. Oh, fuck. You were…really doing this. When you turn to face him, his eyes fix on where your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt—teasing him. 

“Can you take yours off first?” you ask, approaching him slowly. “I’ve never…” 

He stands up quickly. “Never what?” he asks, heart thumping hard in his chest. 

“Had sex,” you whisper, crashing him back down to earth. He finds himself up against the wall again, having backed away from you. He can’t escape your web, he knows that. But the solid wall behind him makes him feel more grounded. 

“I can’t…take your virginity with your brother in the next room.” 

You approach him slowly, like a fly struggling in your trap. “You can,” you insist. “I’ll be quiet.” 

“I’ll just go talk to him. I’ll talk to him and tell him I’m taking you on a date,” he says it like he’s trying to convince you to spare him, let him live. “We’ll go on dates and then eventually, if you want… we can try this.” 

Your fingers brush over his lips, tracing his mouth like you’re inspecting him before you bite. “I’ve been practically sharing a room with you for months. I don’t need dates,” you whisper. “I know you.”

“You know me,” he repeats to himself, unsure why those words seem louder or why they bounce around his brain. 

“Mm,” you confirm. “I know you, Min. And you know me. Right?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

Your fingers trace down to his collarbone. “And you want me?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” 

“Then you can have me,” you say, voice breathy. “If you want.” 

He lifts his hand, hesitating for a second and then brushing his thumb under your eye—your skin still a little damp from your tears. He traces over your cheek, down to your mouth—pulling your bottom lip down a little. Joy, his inner voice says. He pulls his shirt over his head, pulling you back into him after you step back a little at his sudden movement. “I want your first time to be better than this. Do it properly,” he says. 

Your eyes drift to his chest then snap back to his eyes. “Hm?”

“We can…play? Just a little.” 

“Play?” you ask, eyes wide. He presses a kiss to your temple as he reaches down to tug at your shirt, prompting you to lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. 

“Mm, just play a little,” he says. You have nothing underneath and his thumb brushes over your nipple as he holds his breath, the image of you standing in front of him like this etching into his mind permanently. Then you drop to your knees and his head makes a small thump against the wall as he tips it back, squeezing his eyes shut. “What are you doing?” he asks. 

“Hm? Helping you,” you answer, delicately untying his shorts. Then, without hesitation, you pull them down his legs. He sucks in a deep breath before looking down at you, preparing himself. Your fingers trace patterns over his thighs, soft fingertips tickling his skin. He reaches down, pulling you up so he can kiss you again. You hum into his mouth as he walks to you towards the bed, releasing you only so you can crawl up to the pillows. He palms himself over his underwear as you sit back, hooking your thumbs in your little shorts and wiggling them down your thighs—lifting your ass off the bed to pull them off completely. 

His eyes drag from your body to the wall as the pipes fall silent. He was in too deep now. He crawls into the bed, settling himself between your legs. He runs his palms over your legs, up to your thighs then back down again. He lifts one of them up so he can press his lips to your calf, watching your face as your hands move down to cover your centre. “Want a kiss?” he asks, smiling as you nod and reach out to him. He watches your eyes widen, arms dropping as he lowers himself to the bed between your legs. Your lips part as he presses a soft kiss to your clothed cunt, thighs attempting to close around him. “Another?” he whispers. 

You nod. “Please.” 

He listens to your breath catch as he peppers you with kisses, one hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you spread for him. Little noises slip from your throat, prompting him to reach up and press his palm over your mouth. “Shhh, baby,” he soothes, hooking his fingers into the hem of your underwear. “Gonna kiss you properly, yeah?” 

You nod and he releases your mouth, directing his attention to wear he pulls the fabric down your thighs—leaving soft kisses down your legs as he goes. By the time he works back up to your centre your hips are lifting off the bed, squirming as you stifle your own noises. He pushes your thighs apart, getting a good look at you for the first time. He traces his index finger from your clit to your entrance then leans forward, pressing a kiss directly to your clit. You squeak as he makes contact, hand pressed firmly over your mouth. 

A knock of the door makes you jolt, pressing your cunt into his face. “Minho! We gonna talk about moving things around or what?” Christ shouts, knocking on the door again. Minho looks up at your face, panic evident in your eyes.

“She’s asleep!” he shouts back. 

The doorknob rattles. “Let me in.” 

Minho sits back on his heels, eyes trailing over you—sprawled out on his sheets. He nods his head in the direction of your room and you sit up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before scrambling off the bed—collecting your clothes as you go. The second your door closes he walks to his door, pulling it open. His friend's eyes drop down to his underwear. “She must be asleep for you to be walking around like that,” he says, poking his head in to see your closed door. “She can take my room,” he says. “I’ll move into my office.” 

“No,” Minho says quickly, cringing a little at the tone of his response. A little too desperate. “I mean it’s fine. We talked about it and I apologised.”

Chris frowns. “You don’t have to live with her if it makes you uncomfortable, mate. It’s your place as much as it is mine, you know that.” 

A throb of guilt builds in his chest. He sighs, opening the door fully and walking back to his bed. Chris follows after a moment, sitting at the edge of the mattress beside him. “Why have you done so much for me?” Minho asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Letting me live here, getting me a job.”  

Chris frowns, shifting on the bed. He looks uncomfortable. “Why wouldn’t I? You’d do the same for me, right?” 

“I… yeah.” 

“You two are my family,” Chris says, looking up to your closed door. 

Minho follows his gaze, eyes fixing on the door. He wonders if you got dressed again or if you're still naked. “I have to tell you something,” he says, failing to look at the man next to him. 

His friend places his hand on his bare thigh, patting him a few times. “I know, mate.” 

Minho’s eyes snap to him. “What?” 

“You’ve got a thing for my sister. I know,” he says, offering him a small smile. “I assumed it had something to do with what happened today. Did she turn you down?” 

Minho blinks, processing the bomb his friend had just dropped on him. “You… know,” he mutters. Then he shakes his head. “No, she didn’t turn me down. I-I mean she feels…similarly.” 

Chan looks to the closed door again. “So…?” 

“I only…I mean I only found out a few minutes ago. I wanted her gone because I thought she didn’t…thought you’d both…hate me for it.” 

Chris stands, backing towards the open door a little before his eyes catch on the pile of clothes on the floor. “Are you… naked because you were…with her?” he says, taking another small step backwards. 

Minho presses his palm to the back of his neck, answering with his silence. Chris squeezes his eyes shut. “You good in there?” he shouts, cringing. 

The door creaks open and you poke your head out. Minho smiles, recognising his shirt. You’d put it back on. “Could you… leave, please?” you ask, smiling sweetly. 

“God. Yeah, I’m going out for a bit,” Chris says, turning and practically sprinting for the door. Minho stands, following him. 

“You’re alright with it then?” Minho shouts, watching his friend pull his shoes on. He doesn’t look up from where he’s jumping around in one shoe, waving his hand over his head. 

“If you’re both happy, I’m happy. I just don’t wanna be here while you’re being happy, yeah?” he says, grabbing his jacket and pulling the door open. He pauses. “You’re happy?” he asks. 

Minho nods. “Very.” 

Chris smiles. “Good,” he says, turning and pulling the door closed behind him. 

Minho sucks in a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had in years. A door creaks behind him and he spins to find you standing there in his favourite black t-shirt. He smiles, holding his arms open for you. You practically jump at him and he stumbles back a step as he catches his balance. “He was okay?” you ask, legs dangling from where he holds you up against him. 

“Mm, he said he wants us to be happy.” 

“I’m happy,” you whisper. 

Minho smiles. “Me too.” 

“You know what would make me even happier?” you say, fingers moving up the back of his head—threading into his hair. “If you continue where you left off.” 

“Oh, you want me to finish kissing your pussy?” 

You nod. “Yes, please.” 

“Okay, since you asked so nicely,” Minho says, carrying you back towards his room. You wrap your legs around his hips, clinging to him. He licks his lips then huffs out a laugh, thinking back to that morning. He’d jerked off to the thought of your leg draped over him and now here he was, the taste of your sweet cunt on his lips.

“Why didn’t you kill the spider for me when I asked nicely,” you ask, grasping a handful of his hair and tugging lightly.  

“I did.”

“Only after you left me there.” 

“You made me think you were dying.” 

You smile, hand loosening in his hair. “Aw, did I worry you?” your tone teasing. He nods and your smile drops, pressing your face to his neck. “Stop, my heart will explode,” you mutter into his skin. 

“That would also worry me.” 

You press a kiss to his neck. “Catch the spider straight away next time please.” 

“Alright,” he agrees, lowering you down to the ground at the side of his bed. 

You look up at him, eyes warm and hopeful. He’s never loved them more. “Could we…do it properly now that he’s gone?” you ask, eyes trapping him in place. He brushes your hair over your shoulder. 

“Alright.” 

You frown. “You’re being very agreeable.” 

“Mm, apparently I’m agreeable when I’m happy.” 

You laugh. “Stay happy, please.” 

He smiles. “Alright.” 

You latch onto him, pulling him down onto the bed with you. He moves you up the mattress, dropping you against the pillows. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he says, hand slipping under the hem until he finds one of your breasts. 

“Mm, I like sleeping in it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Especially after you’ve worn it.” 

He hums, pulling his hand free. “Think we should leave it on,” he mutters, eyes trailing up and down your body before he moves down between your legs. “Just the shirt,” he breathes, pushing your thighs apart. Your pretty cunt is still wet and while he’s tempted to continue where he left off with small kisses but he wants more. Your hips rise off the bed as he presses his tongue to your slit, leaving small kitten licks until you reach down and grasp a handful of his hair—tugging his head. 

“Min,” you gasp. “Can’t.” 

“Want you to cum…will make it easier for me to fill you…get you relaxed.” 

You whine, releasing his head and gripping the sheets instead. He resumes his mission, alternating between kisses and licks until your hips are rolling against him—seeking more friction. He looks up at you as he licks a long stripe up to your clit then sucks—a pretty whine escaping your lips as you squirm against him. He grips your thighs as you rock against him, taking in the feeling of the girl he loved cumming against his face. Once you’ve come down from your high, he crawls over you—smiling at your fucked out expression. You look totally limp, relaxed and ready for him to feed you his cock. 

“You want me, baby? Tell me.” 

Your eyes flutter open, a soft smile pulling the corner of your lips up. “Want you, Min. Just you,” you sigh. 

He reaches down, pulling his cock from his underwear and wrapping his hand around the base. He leans on his elbow, palm cradling the side of your head as he keeps your attention on his face. “Look at me,” he says. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

You nod and he leans down, your soft lips pulling a low moan from him. He fucking loved you and now he was going to fill you. He huffs out a small laugh into your mouth then lifts his head, watching your eyes as he presses his tip to your entrance. He can feel how relaxed you are, making it easier for him to press in and out a few times—just the tip. He wants to say the words. Tell you he loves you as he presses into you for the first time. He doesn’t want to ruin it, freak you out. He can’t—

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He stops, his tip kissing your slippery entrance. “Wha-What?” he breathes. 

Your eyes drop from his. “Sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Look at me,” he says. You hesitate then meet his eyes again. He pushes forward, your tight walls pressing around him as he watches your expression. He pauses halfway. “I fucking love you,” he says, watching your eyes widen just as he pushes forward more, bottoming out. You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down hard—forcing his face down into your shoulder. 

“Alright?” he asks, struggling to control his own breathing. You were so warm, and so fucking tight around him. He could stay like this forever. He wishes he would stay like this for fucking ever. You clench around him and he resists biting into your shoulder, an embarrassingly high moan escaping his throat instead.

“Say it again,” you gasp, arms tightening around him. He smiles. Joy. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Helpless

summary: those drugs your captors injected you with didn’t just knock you out, and now you need Steven’s help.

prompt: SEX POLLEN (w feelings teehee)

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader (brief mentions of marc spector)

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, sex pollen, dubcon, mentions of being kidnapped and drugged, masturbation (fem), unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, kissing, cuddling, pining friends to lovers

wc: 2k

disclaimer: as a mod/organizer of @moonknight-events, my participance in this event is purely for promotion and i will NOT be entered into the drawing for any prize.

SP BINGO 2024 | moonknight masterlist

The sound of Steven’s blood-curdling scream will forever haunt you. Even as you sit beside him now, even as he drives you far far away from your captors— as he drives past the hotel you two had been staying in for one outside of the city.

You shift in your seat, having a difficult time getting comfortable. Something inside you seems off, your skin crawling. You chalk it up to the memory of waking up to unwanted hands on your skin, of the skitter of rats near your feet, of being pushed into the corner of a room full of cobwebs. How could you feel comfortable after thinking you were dead? That you would be murdered, never seeing Steven again.

The thought has you glancing over at him once more, eyes tracing the slope of his nose.

Steven’s gaze meets yours quickly, “You alright, love?”

Better now that you’re sat next to him. Far from okay. But, things will get better. One day this’ll be a distant memory, one you can hardly remember the details of, except that Steven was there.

You give him a half-hearted smile, shrugging, “Little shaken up.”

Steven reaches out to grab your hand, squeezing it gently. Where the action would usually make your heart flutter, all you can do is notice the relief it gives you. Strange.

“I’m so sorry,” He murmurs earnestly, catching your attention. “Marc was right, I shouldn’t have let you come in with me.”

“I appreciate you believing that I can handle myself. And I can, just not against 4 men that are twice my size.”

—

It grows unbearable in the shower.

You start with scalding hot water, wanting to burn and scrub the night’s events off of you. A symbolic erasing, hopefully, your mind will follow suit. It isn’t long after you’re in the shower that your skin grows feverishly hot. That uncomfortable feeling from before turns into some nagging scratch that sits deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” You breathe heavily, reaching out to turn the nob. The water turns cold, icy cold and for a few seconds, you think you’ve found some relief. You run your soapy towel over the skin of your tummy, up and over your breasts when your breath catches.

That. That feels like true relief.

It throws you— being confusingly turned on after a night like tonight. But you’d woken up groggy, maybe they’d drugged you? Maybe your body was having some strange reaction to whatever substance they’d given to knock you out.

You push those thoughts away as you discard the towel in favor of rubbing your hands over your breasts once more, biting back a soft whine. Flesh on flesh, yeah that’s better. You tug and tease your nipples, leaning back against the tile as you practically tremble from the ecstasy that begins to course through your veins.

Your first peak comes rapidly and unexpectedly just from the teasing touches. The gnawing feeling inside you subsides and you take a deep breath, reaching to turn off the water. Before your hand meets the job you're overwhelmed by that need again. It's louder this time, more consuming as it takes up more of your focus than before.

You’re sent into an orgasm-chasing frenzy, spreading your legs and dipping your fingers between your folds to rub at your clit. Each high you pull from yourself ends with you shivering and shaking, your moans echoing off the walls. But it’s not enough and you grow impatient even as you attempt to satisfy yourself again and again.

There’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, and then Steven’s voice floats through the door, “You alright in there, honey?”

Steven.

You need him. Steven could help you, he could make you feel good. You barely have the mind to turn off the water as you step out of the shower, heading straight for the door and throwing it open.

Steven’s mouth drops open, eyes going wide as he takes in the sight of you completely bared to him. He’s dreamed about this one too many times— Marc has too, but this was the last thing he’d expected when he’d come to check on you. You take a step towards him and he realizes that he’s been standing in place, ogling you.

“I—oh—um, I’ll just,” He mumbles, turning away and covering his eyes for good measure. He starts to apologize, though you were the one to present yourself this way he feels guilty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

You reach for his shoulder, “No, Steven, touch me. Please, touch me, I need you.”

“Oh, gods above. I can’t just…on a night like tonight, where you’ve been made vulnerable,” He reasons, though he doesn’t move out of your hold.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me but Steven, I need you to help me. Please,” You whisper desperately, stepping forward to press your body against his.

Steven whimpers, shuddering when he feels the way you lean in to bury your nose in his curls and inhale his scent. How you’re affecting him so deeply when you’re the one begging is beyond him. He feels helpless— to you and your needs. Helpless to the feelings that have been blooming inside of him for you since the moment he and Marc had laid their eyes on you.

“Help you?” He murmurs, voice lying somewhere between caution and eagerness.

“Touch me. Take me. Make me cum on your cock,” You whisper into his ear, letting your hands run up and down his arms.

Steven gives out a rough laugh, “Honey are you—“

“Sure. I’m so sure, Steven. I’ve wanted this so long just please,” You ramble, not caring that you’re exposing the crush you’ve been nursing.

Steven ignores the way Marc tells him to resist— he can detect the jealousy, the longing in his alter’s urging. He ignores honor and dignity and manners, turning around to scoop you into his arms. His mouth is hungry as it skates across your skin to find one of your nipples. He sucks feverishly, one of his hands dipping to slip fingers between your folds. You keen at his touch, spreading your legs wide for him. It almost makes him dizzy, the way you’re giving him so much power. But you’ve trusted him with taking care of you and he refuses to mess this up.

“God, you’re so slick, darling. Did you touch yourself? It wasn’t enough?” He murmurs, guiding you back into the bathroom and against the wall.

“No. Made myself cum so many times,” You breathe, gripping his curls and pressing his face more firmly against your chest.

Steven gets the message, taking turns swirling his tongue around both your nipples. His hand doesn’t stop, teasing your clit in time with his mouth.

“Gotta take good care of you then, yeah?” He mumbles between flicking his tongue over your stiff bud.

You nod eagerly, chest heaving up into his mouth, “Yeah, with your cock Steven.”

“What are my mouth and fingers not good enough?” He teases, even as he uses his free hand to drop his boxers and sweats. They bunch around his knees, and he doesn’t bother to take them off fully— somehow growing just as needy and desperate as you are in a matter of minutes.

“Good enough and not enough.”

“Sounds a little impossible, doesn’it?” He asks with a soft chuckle.

You glare up at him, growing entirely too impatient. “Never took you as a tease, I always imagined I’d be Marc.”

“You’re certainly right, I just want you to be sure,” He admits as he hoists you up against the wall with ease, wrapping your legs around his hips.

You groan in frustration, pivoting your hips up greedily, “I am sure, and I’m also pretty sure I’ll spontaneously combust if you don’t fuck me right now.”

“Love a headstrong girl,” He whispers into your ear, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit in a move that makes you shiver. You open your mouth the beg him once more but then he’s pushing himself deep inside of you, spreading you open.

“Steven,” You mewl softly, mouthing at the curve of his jaw, eyes rolling back at the taste of his skin.

“I’ve got you, love, right here, gonna make you feel so so good,” He reassures you with gentle rocks of his hips. His head dips and then his mouth is on yours, the hunger inside of him much more apparent as he devours you.

This is scratching the itch, the sweet drag of his cock through your walls starts to alleviate that gnawing inside of you in a way your fingers couldn’t. You kiss him back with matched fervor, hands running up his arms and shoulders to knot in his curly hair, holding him to you so that you can take and take and take. You need every drop of him—every taste, every inch of him, every touch. You need…more.

“Harder.”

Steven tightens his grip on your hips, sinking more firmly onto his heels so he can increase the intensity of his thrusts. It still isn’t enough.

“Deeper,” You whine, tugging his head back by your hold on his curls.

His head falls back into your grasp, his speech soft and breathy, “Darling—“

“Fuck me, Steven. Like you mean it.”

With your spurring, Steven pins you more firmly against the wall with his chest, dropping one of his hands to your cunt so that he can open you up for him even more. His thrusts grow even harder as he reaches deeper inside you, the tip of his cock pressing against the spot inside of you that makes you a little breathless. He can feel the way this change makes you tighten around him, and he groans, pleasure blooming more urgently in his groin. He’s getting close and he can only hope that you are too.

“God, that’s fucking good,” You gasp, resting your head back against the wall as the room begins to spin.

“So good, love, so tight and sweet,” He agrees, kissing his way down the column of your throat. He marvels at how soft and supple your skin is against his lips. “Perfect little pussy, can’t believe you're letting me have it.”

“Make me soak your cock,” You beg, guiding his mouth to yours again, desperate to taste him again. His mouth is so soft, lips full that feel perfect against your own like the two of you were made to fit together like this.

If he wasn’t completely focused on you before, he is now. Every thought in his mind is on making you feel good, on giving you exactly what you need. He rubs your clt with his thumb this time, with firm but gentle pleasure, and you fall apart around him like it's your destiny. You still find yourself unsatisfied, needy for something but before you can say anything Steven cums, gritting his teeth as he continues to fuck you, making sure that his seed is nice and deep. It's only then, when you feel him filling you with warmth that a strange sense of peace washes over you. You’ve never felt more satiated in your life.

“Fucking hell,” He breathes, resting his forehead against yours.

“Thank you. That was— thank you,” You murmur, pressing another kiss to his lips.

Steven kisses you back eagerly, sure that this is it. That it’ll be the last time he gets to kiss and hold you like this, his last taste of your mouth. The last warmth of your smooth skin. He guides himself out of you and then lowers you both to the floor. He tries to let go of you and give you some space, but you get comfortable in his arms, pressing your cheek to his.

“Is this okay?” You ask tentatively, not meeting his gaze.

Steven brings you more firmly against him, dropping a tender kiss onto your forehead, “It's perfect.”

moonknight taglist: @pastanoodles11 , @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @stevengrcnt, @mccn-bcys, @whatthefishh, @silversprings-mp3, @simpforbritgents, @maisondenachtai @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner,  @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

Breath of Life

Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)

Warnings: Drowning, Choking on Water, Passing out, Being unable to swim

Disclaimer: I've never actually drowned before, so if I've gotten some things wrong I apologize. Also, this is not intended to be read as the real person who was Joe Rantz.

Boys in the Boat Masterlist

Joe's lungs were burning when Bobby finally yelled at them to ease up. Coach Ulbrickson signaled at them to head back to the docks when they were ready before speeding off in his boat ahead of them.

It was an unusually sunny day in Seattle. The water was calm and they had glided through the water easily all throughout practice. He was winded and tired, but in a remarkably good mood. The boys ahead and behind him were tilting their heads back toward the sun and running their fingers through the crisp water outside their boat.

Bobby let them all rest a moment before signaling with a shout to begin rowing back to the shell house. They rowed as if each passing second was a luxury. He and the rest of his shells crew were a well-oiled unit when they were all focused on keeping their heads in the boat and nowhere but in the boat.

They pulled up to the docks, pulled themselves out of the shell, and carried it out of the water into the shell house. Bobby, who was too short to be much of a help in carrying it, walked in front of them. He cleared the way and opened doors, making it easier for them to store it quickly.

Joe only felt the day catch up to him when they hit the showers and he felt the long, continuous stream of water falling softly against the skin of his back. He was hoping to see Sadie later in the day, she liked to study under a giant oak tree after her last lecture of the day and if he caught her in a good mood, he thought he might be able to convince her to study later and spend some time with him instead.

He wasn't the only guy in the boat with a girl he was eager to get to after practice. Roger had a date lined up with his Annie and Shorty had said something earlier about meeting up with a new girl that he'd met the previous night. Joe had never seen Don with a girl, but he was pretty sure that his stroke had plans to study with Bobby.

Joe toweled off and dressed himself quickly, his mind navigating the quickest path towards the oak tree that Sadie loved. He'd finished tying his shoes when the first desperate screams of a young woman echoed through the boathouse.

There was a brief moment, when the guys shared shocked looks with one another before they all burst into motion. Leaving through the locker room door and out into the main storage room of the shell house. Moving quickly, he was able to see the coaches also peaking their heads out of their office in alarm. Mr. Pocock appeared too, out of the workshop on the second story and holding a tool in his right hand.

To Joe's surprise he recognized the girl who was panicking desperately in the face of one of the freshman boys. It was Lily, one of Sadie's friends, who was pulling harshly at the boys arm trying to get him to follow her.

"Lily?" She turned toward him the second he called out her name in confusion. Her eyes were filled with tears that were pouring down her cheeks as she hurried over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling her with him. She was breathing so hard that it was hard to understand what she was saying outside of an obvious call for help. "What's wrong? What is it?"

He didn't like the look she was giving him. It was so full of not just fear, but blood curdling panic. It wasn't for her though, it seemed to be for someone else and at the way she was gripping his arm, turning it white with her strength, Joe had a stomach dropping feeling at who it might be for.

"It's Sadie, someone pushed her in the water."

~~~

Sadie tilted her head back, basking in the beautiful Seattle sunshine. It had been days, upon days of endless rainfall and when the clouds had parted to reveal the sun's golden rays shining through the windows in her lecture hall, she couldn't help but smile. Thankfully, her professor had also seen the rare sunshine and had released them early for the day, rushing his way out ahead of everyone else.

Following the rest of her classmates out into the warm air, Sadie saw the oak tree that normally pulled her to rest beneath it's offer of shade. Whether to study or to stare at a cloudy sky, she normally would take it up on it's offer of respite.

Sadie glanced down at the watch on her wrist, she'd gotten out of her lecture early enough that if she hurried, she might be able to catch Joe after practice. She missed him. He had been extremely busy between rowing, saving money up for his tuition, and his homework that it had been hard for them to find the time to spend together. She was determined to find the time to spend with him today.

She redirected her course and set out for the University of Washington's shell house. It was a little bit far from where her lecture was, but it was so nice out that Sadie found herself enjoying the walk. The breeze messed her hair but it also carried the scent of fresh water and sweet grass. She had to meander around groups of other students but it was so nice to see everyone smiling instead of rushing from building to building.

The ground grew steeper, sloping down towards the water's edge as she drew closer. From a distance, she could make out a group of tall, young men carrying their boats inside. She couldn't see Joe's crew but there wasn't anyone else out on the water either so she assumed that he was inside showering and resigned herself to waiting.

She had begun to look for a large tree to occupy her time under when she spotted a flickering hand in the air, waving back and forth to get her attention. Following the hand down, she was met with the dazzling white smile of Lily. She was smiling so hard that Sadie wondered if her cheeks were hurting, nevertheless, Sadie couldn't help but smile back at her, waving as she did.

"Come over here," Lily yelled, waving her over to where she rested on one of the floating docks. Sadie hesitated.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Many of the other students liked to lay on the docks during nice weather to watch the rowing teams compete at the end of practice, but Sadie, who had never learned to swim had always found herself a bit uneasy on the docks. They had no railing and the water stretched endlessly down below them.

When Joe had taken her out to row she'd been nervous enough to distract herself from the uneasiness of being out on the open water. Plus, Joe had kept a steady hand on the small of her back, keeping her upright whenever she stumbled. Where Lily was on the docks, she'd have to navigate down a good portion of floating wood around some of the other students who were standing to leave now that practice was over and heading in the other direction.

Sadie glanced at the shell house, thinking over her own fears and looked back to where Lily was smiling brightly. It couldn't hurt, she guessed, and she wouldn't have to stay long. Once Joe came out she could quickly head back to the safety that was dry ground and spend the rest of her evening with her beau.

"Sadie!" Lily called again, laughing slightly in bewilderment at the stalled movement of her friend.

She forced a bright smile and placed a hesitant foot on the first slat of wood, "I'm coming!"

She kept one arm around her school books keeping them close to her chest as more of a comforting pressure than to keep them from falling in the water and she used her other arm, low as it was by her side, for stability. Sadie moved slowly, as courageous as she was trying to be, she could feel how hard her heart pounded and was perfectly fine with taking her time.

Moving quickly in the other direction, the last group of students on the docks walked by her and jostled the wood slightly as they did. She inhaled sharply at the movement then smiling politely as they tossed her concerned glances at the noise. She waited a moment for the dock to steady then continued on at her leisurely pace.

Sadie glanced up to measure the amount of distance remaining between herself and Lily. It wasn't too much further and then she could lower herself on the blue cotton blanket that Lily had spread out carefully to sit on. She'd already quirked a brow to begin saying something to Lily when the thud of rapid footsteps came up behind her. Sadie didn't have time to look to see who it was before they slammed into her shoulders and knocked her unsteady.

Her books slipped from their careful placement against her chest as her feet slid out from beneath her. She only had enough time to draw in a quick breath before she felt the water close around her head.

It was shockingly cold, she thought to herself. Distantly, she could make out the panicked voice of Lily calling out something above the water. Sadie knew enough about swimming to know that she needed to use her legs to propel herself up the surface of the water. Struggling, she kicked her legs, feeling her shoes slide off of her feet as she did. The water swished around her, moving her up before something tightened at her ankle pulling her back slightly, just as her outstretched finger broke the surface of the water.

She looked down to see a tangled strip of net caught around her ankle. Curling down, she did her best to loosen the net to free her foot from it's confines. Her lungs were burning with the desire to inhale and somewhere in the back of her mind, behind the panic that was building inside of her, she scolded herself for every other time in her life that she'd taken for granted the ability to breathe easily.

The water embraced her, keeping her in it's icy hold and caressing her hair as it floated all about her. It was beautiful, the way the sunlight trickled down through the surface of the water in golden rays. The sun was getting dimmer by the second and she wondered if she were sinking further down.

She couldn't hear Lily's voice anymore and but she hadn't caught the moment it had stopped. What she could hear was the hard pounding of her heart in her head, pounding just as hard as it had the first time she saw Joe smile.

In the next instant the water around her shook, moving her about in the water and bubbles danced along her skin. Rough, warm hands grabbed under her arms in an attempt to pull her up, halting only as the net pulled her back down. Sadie guessed it pulled her farther down this time as the sun's rays continued to disappear from her view.

The same rough hands grabbed her cheeks, shaking her gently and she forced her eyes open. The sun, she thought confused, was starting to look an awful lot like Joe. A very concerned and panicked Joe.

The urge to inhale was too strong for her to resist and her muscle began to work despite her telling it not too, forcing her to inhale a large lungful of icy water. Her body convulsed; hard.

The water shook again, moving further below her and she felt a vibrating sensation from the net around her ankle. She didn't have the energy to look down anymore though, instead, Sadie let her eyes fall closed.

The vibrating stopped after what could've been a moment and she felt herself being pulled through the water again. Rough hands were holding her close to a warm body and she let herself rest there as the world faded into nothing.

Distantly, in the part of her brain that was still working, Sadie was aware of many sets of hands pulling her out of the water and away from the warm chest she'd been resting on. In that same part of her brain, she could hear the panicked voices of Joe's crew as they scrambled around her.

It only took a moment for the familiar rough hands to come back to her, holding her cheeks tenderly for only a moment before she felt firm pressure on her chest. Those hands worked repeatedly against her chest for a moment before they parted her lips. Joe's lips slotted against hers, blowing warm breath into her mouth.

The hands stopped for a moment before picking back up, quicker and with more determination. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath.

After a moment, her brain latched onto the repeated sound of Joe's voice in her ear.

"C'mon baby," he was saying, voice huffing as he worked. Joe's lips pressed against hers and as he breathed into her, she felt something begin to work its way up her lungs.

"Come back to me, Sweetheart," Joe sounded desperate, bordering on hysterical as he called out to her. His lips pressed against her's again, pushing the air into her lungs and this time Sadie forced her eyes open.

Joe knelt above her, blonde hair and a very pale face dripping with water. His eyes trained onto her every movement, while his face was twisted into a pained expression. His endlessly blue eyes were full of tears that he refused to let fall down his face as he concentrated on Sadie.

She gazed at him, unblinking. To her, he looked like the Greek gods of old with his wet, tan skin and shining gold hair. It could very well have been Poseidon or Apollo who had decided to bless her with their presence. Sadie couldn't understand though, why someone so beautiful would be crying and internally cursed whatever situation had put him through such anguish, to hell.

Sadie thought all of this in the split second between when she opened her eyes and when the water surged forward from her lungs back out through her mouth. It spilled over her lips and she felt herself being twisted onto her side as she coughed it out. A large hand rubbing her back as she did. She braced her weight on a shaking elbow so she could cough without hitting her head against the wood.

"There you go, Sadie," Joe encouraged, voice still strained. "Get it all out."

Every breath of air into her lungs caused more water to gush out, burning it's way out of her body. Sadie groaned, she had no idea that water could burn, had thought up until this moment in her life, that it was supposed to be fire's job to burn.

Around her, she could hear the sound of relieved murmuring voices that she had begun to recognize as Joe's crew. After a few agonizing breaths she forced herself to sit up, ignoring the voices telling her to lay down and slumped against Joe, who immediately wrapped her in his arms, supporting all of her weight.

She tucked her head into the darkness between his neck and his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat and listening to his breathing. Sadie forced the oxygen in her own lungs to mimic his rhythm and after a few breaths, Joe caught on to what she was doing.

He began exaggerating his breathing, forcing slow and steady breaths that she could replicate on her own. When she felt like she could breath at a normal rate without focusing all of her brain power to it, she pulled back to look around.

It couldn't have been too much longer since she went under. Lily's blanket was underneath her, the sun was still shining brightly, and the breeze was rustling the leaves of the trees around her. Don Hume was dripping wet, standing closest to them while six other crew members from Joe's boat stood closely behind him. Chuck Day with his arm around a crying Lily.

Joe gripped her cheek with one of his hands, drawing her attention back to him, "I'm going to carry you to the shell house, alright?" His voice trembled slightly but after she nodded her consent, he picked her up and held her securely against his chest. She rested her head against his shoulder, closed her eyes and let his steady rhythm of footfalls lull her away.

~~~

When Sadie gained consciousness, she was still in Joe's arms but they were not outside and they were not in the main room of the shell house. She was laying down on a small, twin mattress with her head resting on Joe's chest. His arms were holding her securely to him. He clung to her like she might slip away at any moment.

She recognized this room from when she'd been in it in passing. It was Joe's room, the one that he shared with Roger Davis, though Roger wasn't in it at present. Light shone through the closed blinds, but it was a soft pink of morning instead of the golden yellow of the afternoon.

As she looked around, she felt Joe stir against her. His eyes fluttered open, took in the fact that she was awake and that she was watching him. He seemed more relaxed now, though she made a mental note of the fact that he seemed unable to stop himself from touching her in some way.

"Hey there," his voice rumbled from deep in his chest, still rough with sleep. His eyes were soft and his thumb was rubbing small circles in the small of her back.

Sadie offered him a weak smile, "Hey."

His forehead was wrinkled with worry. "You gave me quite a scare," he confessed to her.

Sadie nodded, dropping her gaze from his. She brought her hand that was between them up to the center of his chest, drawing small shapes as she composed her thoughts.

Joe was quiet, content to lay with Sadie in his arms. She cleared her throat, "What happened?"

At her question, Joe began to sit up slightly and cradled her face in his hands as he studied her eyes and face. "You don't remember falling in the lake yesterday?"

Sadie reached up to hold one of his wrists in her hand, "I remember that part. I don't remember much else after slipping into the water."

"Lily came into the shell house, completely panicking," Joe started. "She said that you'd slipped into the water and hadn't come back out."

Joe stared at the wall as he recalled it to her. His eyes full of anguish and his grip on her tightened with the need to convince himself that she was beside him.

"We followed her out to where you'd fallen in and I jumped in to grab you out but you were stuck on something. Thankfully, Don noticed and jumped in after me. He had a pocket knife that he used to cut you free."

Sadie nodded, it all checked out to her. She could remember the vibrating sensation dancing up her foot while she was in the water.

"You couldn't have been in there for very long, but by the time we pulled you out, your lips were blue. You weren't breathing," Joe paused, breathing deeply. His eyes fell shut and he leaned his forehead against hers.

They rested like that for a short time while Joe tried to calm himself down, clutching to her like she was a lifeline. After a bit, Sadie pulled back and Joe opened his eyes to look at her. They were both sitting upright now but she rose up on her knees, hearing the mattress groan as she did.

She grabbed onto Joe's shoulders to steady herself and swung one of her legs across Joe's hips so that she was straddling him. His hands came up to rest on her hips, stabilizing her as she sat down on his thighs.

Sadie slid her hands from his shoulders and into his hair, caressing his blonde curls and massaging his scalp until his shoulders released the tension he was holding there.

Joe cleared his throat and looked at her, "You weren't breathing so we did CPR until you were. I carried you back to the shell house, Bobby had run to grab a Doctor while I went in after you so they checked you out."

"What did they say?" She asked, moving her thumbs up to smooth his temples. Joe leaning into her touch as she did.

"You were awake for that part," he hummed, "But, you feel back asleep pretty quickly after. Doc said you were fine and that you'd need to take it easy for the next couple of days. You were pretty out of it though, so I took you in here and we both fell asleep."

She shivered and Joe brought the quilt that was covering them both to wrap more tightly around her shoulders, while pulling her closer to him. "Thank you," she whispered.

He shook his head, "Please, don't ever do that again. I don't think I can handle it."

She laughed blankly, "I wasn't really trying to do it the first time either."

Joe nodded, "I know." He cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a slow, warm kiss that had her melting into his touch. It was a kiss that told her just how worried he had been and how glad he was to have her near him now.

Sadie responded in kind, gliding her hands across his skin and pouring all of her love for him into their kiss. Joe's hands flexed against her hips and turning his head, he deepened their kiss. His tongue parted her lips and he kissed her until all Sadie could taste, feel and hear was Joe Rantz.

A/N: Y'all I fell in love with this idea and was having such a fun time writing it up until the end. It sort of died there lol. Thanks for sticking it out til then and I'll do my best to keep writing for the boys.