#familiars you've fashioned

[staff]

tumblr tuesday: familiars you've fashioned

Behold! You've done it again. We want to take 'em all home and give 'em treats and wrap 'em up warm. Keep an eye on your dash on Monday to see the whole menagerie in full swing! And never fear. We'll still share your dazzling costume creations in the afterglow of Halloween proper next Tuesday.

@hiya-im-mary​:

@alexsketches:

@x-cherry-art-x​:

@soda-pap​:

@spacehippieface​:

@saroko-still-draws​:

@fluffy11cat​:

@nightshadeheart11​:

@moonamayillu​:

@jasbell​:

@rsrandomthings​:

@northofnothing​:

@sleepyslimerancher​:

This is already the final week of the Build a Beast challenge, but it's also never too late to build a beast—here's a reminder of week 1, week 2, and week 3 templates for your convenience. And here's this week's. Happy conjuring! 

[shah-alam]

[callmehabie]

First time I take out of my sewing machine in years and it's to put a patch on a flannel.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[martiniblues]

spidey boy ; 이민형

pairing spiderman!mark x female!reader

synopsis mark has tried to hide his secret identity from you for as long as possible, to keep you safe, of course. little does he know that you’ve untangled his web of lies long ago and will do anything in your power to get him to admit it. just when you've had enough of him lying to you, he ends up getting caught in the act trying to save your life.

genre established relationship, fighting (if you squint), lots of fluff, slight violence and cat-calling, slightly suggestive, mark calls reader “my girl” and “pretty girl”.

wc 2.9k

“do you think that spiderman guy is actually as good as everyone says he is?” you ask mark, who lay peacefully in your lap as your fingers ran through his hair.

you two had been hanging out after school, as you usually do, watching random channels while you both indulged in each other's day. however, you had articulated this hangout the night prior.

a few days ago, you had aimlessly been searching through mark’s backpack in hopes of finding your calculus notes, which you had so graciously let him borrow, only to stumble upon a very familiar red and black mask balled up in the bottom.

at first, you thought mark had hit peak fangirl. he was obsessed with the superhero after all, completely drawn to the tv or newspaper whenever spiderman was mentioned, but so was every other human being in your city.

so when you began noticing how mark’s late-night appearances and “fashionably late” activities began lining up with the famous building-swinging superhero, your mind put the pieces together.

you tried to understand his point of view and why he wouldn’t reveal this very key detail about himself. it hurt you, though, feeling as though there was something in you that made him not feel comfortable enough to expose himself to you.

so, you compiled a plan to get the truth out of him organically, or as organically as this could be.

“wha… what do you mean?” your boyfriend’s head quickly snapped up, turning on his palm to face you with a questionable look knitted into his features.

a smile teasingly pulled on your lips, knowing you had hit a sore spot in his ego. how couldn’t he be proud of himself? after all, he was known as the hero of your city.

“i don’t know,” you continued, leaning back against the couch, watching your boyfriend swing from building to building on the screen in front of your bodies. “he just seems too full of himself, like cool you can swing from buildings and hang upside down, but we have police and firefighters for a reason!”

it took everything in you to not break character, slowly watching mark’s face grow red at your painful statements. he just looked at you, eyes blown wide and brows pulled so close together that you were certain he could get stuck like that.

with a small giggle, you reached out, brushing your thumb between the crease in his brows and bringing it down to caress his cheek.

“what’s with the face, baby? don’t tell me you're obsessed with him too.” his face slowly relaxed as your soft hand held his face, but his brain was still scrambling with your previous statements.

how could you find him not absolutely amazing? he could swing from buildings and hang upside down!

“you don’t think he’s cool? not even a little bit?” mark’s eyes followed yours to the screen. spiderman now being shown saving an older woman from getting mugged.

“i think he’s cool, i guess.” you looked back at your boyfriend only to find his eyes already on your face, his previous expression appearing again. “babe, you can’t be serious.” mark leaned back, feeling completely bewildered by your nonchalant attitude towards his heroic duties.

“it’s not that big of a deal."it’s not like you’re spiderman, so why should it matter if i like him or not?” you titled your head away from the screen to watch his eyes grow wide, and you could audibly hear his breath hitch.

“but…” he quickly let out before catching himself, looking at the tv to see his segment disappear. “but what?” you teased, beginning to feel bad for your ministrations.

he looked back at your face, sighing heavily. “nothing, just like the guy a bit," he said before lying back in your lap to hide his face from you.

this was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

“hey baby~” mark cooed as he stepped into your apartment, takeout bags in hand. you quickly sprung up from your spot at the counter, running to hug your boyfriend after not seeing him for awhile.

after your first attempt to disclose his true identity was unsuccessful, you held off from bringing up the topic for awhile.

but you had finally decided to take a different approach this time.

“i missed you, pretty girl.” the nickname made your cheeks heat up as his cold hands held your face in front of his. he inspected you lovingly, relishing in the fact that he could finally hold you without school being in the way.

“missed you too," you replied before kissing him softly. mark dropped the plastic bag on the counter beside him, pulling you firmly against him. his lips were almost enough to make you forget about your plan.

almost.

“god, i’m hungry.” you pulled away, making him laugh at your cute antics, and he joined you on your couch to eat. as you sat, you pulled off your (mark’s) sweatshirt to reveal the key details of your plan.

mark quickly noticed the black spiderman logo displayed across your chest, at a loss for how quickly your opinion of him changed. “you like?” you asked, flaunting the red baby tee you had bought earlier that day.

“i- i thought you thought spiderman was stupid." he nearly choked on his food, trying not to blush at the image of his girl repping him like this.

“i never said he was stupid, mark. i just thought he was overhyped, but i now understand where all the love is coming from.” you looked down, ogling at your new shirt, sure of its effect on your boyfriend.

“oh…” he tried to fight the grin, trying to cover his lips, but couldn’t contain his relief. “glad you finally came around, baby.” he smiled before shoving his face with more food.

“you’re not jealous?” you asked, beginning to take on step two of your plan. “he is a guy, after all.”

this made mark actually choke on his food. “what? why would i be jealous about that?"

“i mean, your girlfriend wearing a shirt for some muscular superhero who is most definitely sickly hot under that skin tight suit he wears while saving lives." you went on swirling your fork in your food, looking up every so often to see mark’s cheeks darken at the compliments.

he held his head down, but not enough for his flushed ears and cheeks to go unoticed. “why are you so red, baby? i still like you more, you know; spiderman can’t take you away from me.” you reached over and combed your fingers through his hair to feign worry.

“that is, unless he happens to swing by and sweep me up with his insane muscles.” you winked, making your boyfriend turn into a tomato.

“yeah, you wish he would do that.” mark  joked, trying to deflate his growing pride, which you continued to boost.

“what? are you saying i’m not worthy of spiderman’s fantastic biceps picking me up and swinging me through the night sky?” mark looked at you quizzically.

you couldn’t be serious, could you?

mark discarded his food, crawling over to trap you beneath his body. "fantastic, you say... and what are these?” he made reference to his own muscular arms peeking through his fitted white tee.

"marvelous," you replied, sliding your fingers softly over your boyfriend's muscles. how lovely it was that you didn’t have to dream of spiderman’s biceps as they sat right in front of you.

“better than fantastic in my book.” mark smiled before catching your lips in his.

your spiderman shirt was soon discarded in that moment but continued to linger in mark’s head days later.

“i’m just gonna go grab a few things. i promise i won’t be long.” you stood in your doorway, attempting to run to the store to get a few things before it got too late.

mark hated this.

“why cant i just go get it or go with you?” mark wrapped his arms around you from behind, making it increasingly difficult to slide on your shoes. he kissed you all over your neck and face, held your hand, pulled at your jacket sleeves, and even attempted to block the door entirely to try and get you to stay, but you were as determined as you ever were.

“i’m a grown woman, mark. i can run down the block by myself.” you turned around in his arms, reaching for your keychain next to his head on the wall, hanging by a hook.

“it’s dangerous out there. wouldn’t want my pretty girl getting hurt.” he slouched against the wall, still holding onto your hand as your whole body nearly made it out the door.

“good thing spiderman will be there to save me from any danger.” you teased him before slamming the door in his face, preventing him from getting anymore words out. not that he could form any from your statement anyway.

as you made your way through the isles of the tiny convenience store down the block from your place, you began to notice a dark figure popping into your vision.

a man decked out in all black and wearing a dark baseball cap pulled down just enough to hide his eyes followed your trail through the store.

he just coincidentally needs the same things, plus it’s freezing outside. that’s why he’s covered up so much, you thought. you can't say much about covering up with your giant black puffer jacket nearly swallowing you whole.

as your shopping trip continued, you couldn’t help but notice the figure not picking up a single item they inspected.

how weird, you thought.

“have a nice night!” the sweet cashier bid you goodbye before you quickly made your way out of the store.

as you exited the glass doors, the figure from earlier greeted you outside. your steps increased in speed as you noticed the figure continuing to follow your path.

you: mark could you meet me outside

you: creepy dude won’t stop following me

you: dude answer the phone

you: mark come on this is serious

you huffed, knowing the figure was still following you from a distance and aggravated by mark ignoring your texts.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone at night?” the figure spoke from your side, somehow managing to come up beside you without you noticing.

you stayed silent, pretending to be interested in the cement beneath your feet.

“hey! i’m talking to you!” the voice barked, noticeably irritated by your lack of interest. “i asked you a question, bitch!” a hand grabbed your wrist tightly, stopping you in your tracks.

thinking it was the figure, your body froze seeing spiderman right in front of you. stumbling back, you watched your hero step in and fight off the creepy man, knocking him over before webbing him to the alley wall ahead.

“try and speak to her again, and you’ll get much worse than a few webs on you.” the familiar voice of your boyfriend came out deep and threatening, making your breath hitch. you had never heard him speak like that.

while the bum continued to try and yell through the webs plastered over his mouth, spiderman turned to check on you.

“everything all right? he didn’t touch you or hurt you, babe- i mean, mam?” the fumbling of words made you laugh slightly, knowing the dork under the mask.

“i’m all right, thanks to you, spiderman.” you swooned, so caught up with the fact that your own boyfriend was spiderman and that he had practically beaten and webbed a man to a wall for you.

“what could i ever do to repay you?” you asked, trying not to trip over your own feet at the way the suit hugged mark’s muscle so well. more than any t-shirt ever could.

“just doing my job, as always.” spiderman leaned his body against the wall smoothly, resting his head against his fist. you two stood there in a few seconds of silence, both not knowing what to do.

“you better get headed home; it’s getting late.” he coughed, finally breaking out of his daze.

“no swinging around the city for me?” you asked, pretty disappointed that your boyfriend was about to make you walk home alone. “no can do, web swinging with lovely ladies is a daytime activity only; i wouldn’t want anyone to miss it.” he pulled his body from the wall, shooting up a web to hang from a sign above your heads.

“what a shame. guess you’ll just have to give me a show of the city another day," you replied, watching as mark swung his legs over the sign to hang upside down effortlessly.

definitely trying to impress me, you thought.

“i can see what i can do.” he crossed his arms over his chest before you stepped forward on your tiptoes, placing your hand on his cheek, making him short circuit.

“thanks again, spiderman.” you spoke, leaning into him to place a quick kiss on his mask-covered cheek.

“of-of course. any day, mam,” his voice cracked at your actions, making you laugh as you turned away to walk home.

mark hung in bliss before realizing he was supposed to be at your place, not saving your life in a spidey suit.

you rushed through the door, dropping your bag on the ground and making a beeline to your room. the only place with a window mark could slide through without getting caught.

you swung open your door to reveal a maskless spiderman half way through your bedroom window, eyes wide, body frozen.

you froze in shock, almost surprised that your plan had finally worked. "gotcha," you smiled, leaning against your door frame satisfied.

“uh…” mark scrambled, attempting to put his mask back on as if it would make you forget seeing his face entirely. as he tripped and tumbled around your room, you slowly made you way behind him.

“mark,” you began, attempting to get him to calm down. “baby,” you turned him slowly as he finally got his mask back on. “mark? who’s mark? that your boyfriend or something?” he attempted to deepen his voice to throw you off.

he realized this was unsurprisingly unsuccessful, noticing the smirk that continued to show on your face. “you know him, don’t you, spiderman? he’s the boy who just kicked ass and saved my life less than ten minutes ago.” you said, gently pulling off his mask to reveal your boyfriend’s face.

he stared at you, not knowing how you felt. “look, i can explain this all,” he nervously let out as he looked anywhere but your eyes.

before he could explain, you kissed him softly, wanting to ease his worry and express your gratitude. he saved your life after all, and not just by being spiderman.

“i’m not mad, not at all.” you looked into his eyes, noticing how at ease he seemed to be at the relief of your words.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i was so scared you wouldn’t want to be with me or be scared of me,” he ranted, trying to make you see his side in case you had lied and were even the littlest bit mad at him. he hated when you were mad at him more than anything.

“why would i not want to be with you? i love you, mark, so much, it’s crazy.” you pulled his face into your hands in disbelief at his words. “and plus, how could i be scared of such a handsome, strong, crime-fighting superhero who so happens to double as my boyfriend. if anything, people should fear me,” you joked, ripping a laugh from his lips.

“how long have you known?” he asked, pulling you closer by your waist. biting your lip, you looked down, trying to hold back your laugh. “remember when you borrowed my notes for class and forgot to give them back?"

you didn’t even have to finish, seeing the realization wash over his face as the words fell from your lips.

“yeah, maybe putting your suit in your backpack wasn’t the best place.” you both laughed at the situation at hand; mark was completely dumbfounded.

“so that’s why you talked such shit about me and bought that stupid shirt!” he continued to put together the pieces, gripping your waist tighter as he laughed at his own stupidity.

"ding, ding, ding!” you replied, pulling away slightly to take in his whole look, still not being used to see him like this up close. “yeah, definitely need to see you in this more often now."

mark flushed, turning into putty in your presence. your eyes traveled all over the intricate details and meshing of the suit. how it hugged his body and made him look completely unreal.

“do a little spin for me, doll.” you teased, wanting to ease up all the pent-up emotions still hanging in the air. mark giggled at your stupid comment but did as you asked nonetheless, turning slowly for you.

turning completely to the back, not a second went by before mark felt a harsh slap on his skin. “fuck baby! what was that for?” he whined, reaching down to rub the irritated spot.

"sorry, i couldn’t help myself when you have an ass like that, mark lee.” you smiled at his pained expression, putting your arms back to lean against your vanity, still ogling at your boyfriend’s physique.

“guess i really do need to wear this more around you.” he placed his hands on either side of you, trapping you beneath him.

“maybe the story time can wait till later.” you breathed before his lips pressed themselves to yours.

“i love you so much, my girl."

“i love you too, spidey boy.”

now you had mark completely to yourself, spiderman and all with no secrets left to hide.

© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!

note | more spider!mark WHAT CAN I SAYYY WHAT CAN I SAYYY. he’s literally my fav mark to write ever like pleaseee get him as the korean peter parker asap!!! anyways, hope you loved this and my request box is always open <333

[luveline]

PLEASE IM BEGGING I WILL SELL MY FAMILY FIR THIS

More flirty bombshell reader but Spencer was just let out of prison and now instead of just getting all hot and bothered he flirts back 😼

Love you and your writing pooks 😏😚🫶🏾

love you! fem, 1.1k

This has been the longest eighty four days of your life. Not even three months apart and yet it's felt as long and arduous as three years, and so you do what you must on the day Spencer is released from Milburn; you take your time putting yourself back together, preening and polishing, as pretty as you've ever looked. 

Penelope looks good too, JJ as well. The girls are here to represent, and that's without mentioning Luke's general unbelievable physique. 

You're pissed at being left outside but you can manage. You can cope. You don't think Penelope, bless her huge heart, is going to fight you for Spencer's attention. Not for a good five seconds. What to say first? I miss you, I love you, I'm so fucking sorry I let this happen, that I couldn't do more. 

He appears behind a grate door, Luke at his side. Then the grate is opening, JJ with tears in her eyes behind him, and every idea of what to do goes out the window. 

Your breath catches before he's so much as touched you. 

"Hey," you say. It starts well, ends weak, tears in your eyes as you choke, "hey, handsome." 

"Hey," he says, hugging you with more care than you're expecting. "Oh my god, hey." He lets out a sigh of relief, his face dipping down to press against your shoulder. You feel the familiar curve of his nose and hold your breath to stop from crying.

You let him go a selfish ten seconds later, but Spencer keeps your hand as he hugs Penelope, one-armed. It's awful and selfish and you don't care, you go in for the second hug on tiptoes, arms behind his neck, your mouth pressed as high as you can reach on his face. A mess of lip gloss is left behind when they finally crowbar you off of him long enough to get in the car, and even then you're clinging to his hand, worried someone will take him again, that you won't be able to do a thing about it. 

You wrap your arms around his and hug him on the drive back. You can't stop looking up into his face. Spencer, unflinching, meets you there, his eyes a little glassy, his face sallow but getting better. 

"Missed me?" you ask quietly. You've only so much privacy. 

"So much." 

"Like a hole in the head?" 

Spencer leans down an inch. "No, like, I really missed you." 

"Of course you did, you–" Spencer leans down suddenly and disarms you, his breath warm against your cheek. 

"I what?" he asks, kissing your cheek. 

"You haven't been away from me that long in years," you breathe. 

"It took getting used to," he says agreeably, speaking low, his breath hotter still as he kisses upward. Two kisses, that's all they are, but when he sits straight again you're thrown. 

"But you got used to it?" 

"No," he says, smiling at you like you've made a funny joke rather than thinly veiled insecurity spoken in a desperate attempt to garner some reassurance. 

It was difficult coping with the hurt of his having left you in the dark. You knew he was doing something he shouldn't have been, but you never for a moment imagined this outcome. You worried (deep down, and not for his ears) that he'd met someone new, that he'd grown disinterested in your years of love and life. Of you. Especially as he's matured, which is to say he stopped looking like he was about to walk the stage at New York Fashion week and started dressing sharp as a tack. Your Spencer stayed yours, but he got older, and you did too —you look older. You're still yourself, high maintenance, prideful, sweet, but you're not the same. 

Between the distance that bloomed with his secrecy and his growing maturity, you were caught off guard. And then not long after he was arrested in Mexico and you couldn't get him out no matter what you did, or who you begged for help. 

Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, tilting your head one way slowly, and then the other. There's confidence in his touch that you've felt before, just never to this extent. 

What happened to you? you think. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

"For what, sweetheart?" you ask, meaning it implicitly. He's your sweetheart. He's everything. You're too high on his return to want an apology. 

"For everything. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you." 

There's something you can work with. "Oh, you will?"

"I promise." 

Mindful of your friends in the front seats, you press your cheek into his hand, turning your head just enough to touch your lips to his palm. His eyes are dark brown where they meet yours, pupil and iris one and the same. "How?" you murmur. 

Spencer brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. Something in his eyes speaks even as he stays quiet, a light, an amusement, as if to say, I know exactly what you're doing, but it won't work. 

I'm not a saint, you say back with a sheepish smile. You close your eyes and let your head fall into his shoulder. He hugs you close despite the lack of room, his chin landing atop your head gently. "You'll have to try harder," he whispers. 

"Don't know what you mean." 

"Months of missing you and the first thing you do is try to torture me." 

"That's our thing." 

"No, our thing is me worshipping the ground you walk on," he says into your hair, hand squeezing as it roves up your arm, reassuring himself that you're there, that you're real. 

"Like I wouldn't do the same if you'd let me. I would've done anything." He probably can't hear you anymore, your voice a suggestion of sound. "I would've done anything if I thought it would…" get you back to me.

Spencer does you a favour of ignoring you. Later, you know he'll bring it up again. You'll have time, because he's going home. For now he does his best to hold you together in the company of others, always thinking about what you need. "You look so pretty today. Is that for me?" 

"I always look pretty." You haven't felt it lately.

"I know. Maybe it's because I didn't see you for so long… It's like seeing you again for the first time." 

Your chest aches in a strangely nice way. "And how are you coping, handsome?" 

He rests his cheek on your forehead. On paper, you're flirting. In actuality, you're being one hundred percent honest with each other. "I'm not. My blood pressure has gotta be 180 over 110 right now."

"I love it when you talk medical to me." 

"I love you." 

You nose at his suit sleeve ineffectually "I love you." 

[6lostgirl6]

A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital. 

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table. 

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed. 

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him. 

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it. 

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

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Tagging: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bluecoolr @the-pinstriped-hood @flower-crowned-lady @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azzy-ozborn @strrvnge @repostingmyfavs

[mistydeyes]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Task Force 141 and a reader that they never have seen out of uniform until one day they all go to a bar but the reader is late? Next thing they know the reader walks up to them dressed like they just walked straight out of the 2000’s?

(if you end up doing this request: thank you so much! I absolutely luv your writing!!)

thank you so much for requesting! i literally am in love with 2000's fashion like you'll be seeing me walking with low-cut jeans and a baby tee fr

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summary: After a tiring mission, the 141 invites you to drink away the night at the pub. However, you get into a lively argument about fashion when they question your choice in 2000's inspired attire.

pairings: taskforce 141 x platonic!gn!reader (codename: Storm)

warnings: swearing, slight bullying (they fr just don't understand fashion)

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"Didn't we tell Storm half-past eight?" Gaz asked, looking down at his watch. The pub was nearly empty as the men continued to add glass after glass to a growing pile. Despite reminding you with a string of texts, you still haven't made an appearance. "Still don't get why they had to change," Soap continued, choking down another drink, "Lt's still wearing his goddamn mask." The group laughed as their attention was directed to Ghost, still wearing his signature face mask. "They probably wanted a shower and some fresh trousers," Price commented and the rest of the group returned to a more interesting conversation.

As the group laughed at Soap recounting Ghost's out-of-character dialogue in Las Almas, their gaze fell on the pub's door as it swung open. The group smiled at the familiar face and gestured you over. You walked to the table quickly, feeling the attention in the empty pub. At first, you thought it was due to your late entrance but when you approached, you saw all eyes focused on your attire. It was like you walked out of the 2000s or robbed a Delias before your arrival. You felt a little self-conscious at the confused looks and wondered what all the fuzz was about. "What? Do I have a stain?" you questioned as you dusted off your low-cut, denim jeans. "No, it's just-" Gaz began to say but Soap interjected. "Why do you dress like that?" he asked and you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at your jeans and Von Dutch top. "But I normally dress like this?" you said with a curious tone. You dressed like this before joining the military and held on to the lively aesthetic of the early 2000s. You were embarrassed to admit but Britney Spears and *NSYNC were your fashion icons.

"Yeah," Ghost spoke up as he eyed the interesting font of your shirt, "you look like you could be an extra in a Spice Girls video." You rolled your eyes, grabbing at one of the half-drunk glasses on the table. "You've been quiet, Captain," you edged while looking at him, "what do you think?" There was a hush over the room as you waited in anticipation. "Clothes are clothes," he simply replied and the table roared with laughter. "Such a grandad thing to say," Soap loudly exclaimed and everyone clambered with sentiments of agreement. "Sorry I don't wear Wrangler jeans and black fitness tops," you mumbled. It was a subtle jab at your colleagues but Gaz took it to heart. "I have style!" he shouted as you shook your head in disapproval.

"Gaz, you look like someone trying to emulate an Instagram model or some teenager's Pinterest board," you argued and you were met by the howling of the tipsy men. "And Captain, I'm sorry but you look like a father going on holiday to the Swiss Alps," you directed towards Price as everyone realized this was becoming an insult fueled rage. Soap was still laughing wildly, shaking his head in agreement with your every word. "Oh you shouldn't be laughing, Soap," you said as you turned to him, "a navy blue sweater and black jeans are a fashion crime." He quickly turned red and looked embarrassed as he examined the mismatched colors. Everyone held their breath as you turned to Ghost. "And Lt," you paused, thinking of what you should say next, "you dress like you've never heard of color."

[astroboots]

omg tbh grumpy bored Miguel just having to sit, wait, hand over his credit card and then carry bags from lingerie store to lingerie store is so important to me and my daydreaming lmaoo. Punishment fits the crime imo!!

I also love the idea of him going solo and buying lingerie he likes and leaving her little presents because A) if she likes the pieces then perfect!! or B) if it’s not her taste then it’s perfectly okay for him to rip them of her and she doesn’t even get mad 😏😏

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

When you had asked him to come with you to go shopping for lingerie, he had been thrilled.

Why wouldn't he be.

It had sounded like a great way to spend a few hours of on a lazy weekend together.

In his mind, it'd be you half naked, parading in scanty underwear for his eyes only.

A private fashion show, except sexy, instead of boring, where you'd be wearing a lacy piece that would barely cover your ass cheeks for him. A sheer peer of white panties that would leave nothing to the imagination. A frilly pair that was begging for him to rip them off right then and there, in the changing room.

He hadn't know then that it would be like this.

That apparently, in lingerie stores, men aren't allowed in the changing rooms. That he'd be banished in the lounging area, sat in a pink velvet armchair so tiny, it must be made for dolls that he can barely squeeze his ass into.

He's sitting here, exiled to this depressingly sad space of other bored husbands and boyfriends, who are half dozing off or staring at their phones like dreary zombies. Meanwhile he's hunched in on himself like a shocking elephant trying to fit in a goddamned teacup.

Not for the first time since he arrived in this world, the thought strikes Miguel that your world is a dystopia.

Because what other way is there to describe a world where one is supposed to sit sit mere feet away from their partner, while they get undressed and he's not allowed to look. Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to...

Shock.

This is torture. Why is he left out here like some abandoned dog out in the streets, forced to imagine what you look like in that tiny dressing room.

Forced to imagine you naked, with nothing on but a bra as you look at yourself in the mirror, and nothing he can do about it. Except sit here, as his dick stirs between his legs at the thought of it. Nothing to do but be tortured at the thought of you and your hands cupping your breasts as you try to decide if it's a good fit.

At the way you'd spin in front of your own reflection, and the way those sheer lacy panties he picked for you to try, that splits in the middle, would part as you move.

His fangs itch in his mouth at the thought of it. Fingers gripping into the arms of the armchair, as he resists every instinct to rush to his feet and break into your dressing room. Press you up against the wall until you're flat against it. Every inch of him pressed along yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, spreading you wide open as he --

"Miggy."

He breaks out of his reverie. Blinking up to see your face gaze down at him.

"I'm done," you tell him, showcasing the big shopping bag like a treasure.

Reaching over, he takes it from you. "What did you get in the end?"

"All of them. You've ripped so many I don't have anything nice to wear anymore except my old granny panties, so I figured I needed a whole new collection," you say a little pointedly as you serve him a side eye and steer him out of the shop.

He shakes the bag to peer inside, and the familiar white cotton and cherry patterns of the panties you wore this morning peeks out from the other wrapped items.

"Are those the panties you wore here?"

"Mhmm," you hum absentmindedly as you continue to steer the two of you towards the exit of the mall.

It's probably not easy for you to do, cause Miguel is larger than you, and the place is crowded, but he's too distracted to be more helpful to you in this moment.

Images of you flit through his mind. Of the cute sheer panties you'd picked up earlier hugging your hips even as you're walking next to him in this moment.

"Which one are you wearing now?" He has to swallow down the saliva flooding his tongue so he can ask the question.

Training his eyes on the bag, he tries to sneak another peek, even though every other piece has been carefully wrapped in pink tissue paper. "Is it the pink one? or the red ones?"

You cock your head slightly to the side and observe him with an amused smile lingering on your lips.

"Nope," you tell him, still with that casual smile.

"The sheer lacy one then?"

"No, not that one either."

"The baby blue?"

You shake your head and he frowns. This game of 20 questions is getting a bit too drawn out for his liking. And he doesn't quite get why you won't just give him the answer. Still there's only two more guesses left.

"The black satin?"

"No."

"So the--"

"I'm not wearing that one either," you finish before he even can point out the final option.

His eyebrow quirks in question. "What do you mean?

The gears in his heads are turning but not fully comprehending what you mean by that. He saw the ones you wore this morning in the shopping bag, and if you didn't wear any of the ones you bought then--

"I'm not wearing anything."

... Shock.

Dedication & Credits: To my most beloved @thirstworldproblemss for always having the patience to listen to my unhinged thoughts. She had the most delicious thots about what happens minutes after this.

How Miguel would be too impatient to wait until you made it back home. How Miguel would have you pinned against the wall in a semi-secluded area, all: “don’t worry about it, nena. I’ll know if anyone’s coming, and we’ll be long gone before they get here.” But then being so distracted by you and the feeling of you wrapped around his cock that you nearly get caught anyway, and it’s only because you notice in the last second before discovery and tap him in alarm that makes him manage to haul you out of sight before you got caught.

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[grugruel]

Say it Again

Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).

AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!

The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.

The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.

And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.

♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well

A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.

In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.

A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.

Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.

Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.

♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell

When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.

While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.

♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender

The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.

♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪

Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.

A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.

♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone

But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.

And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.

♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe

But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.

♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal

It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-

I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.

♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender

I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.

I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.

♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown

But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.

♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see

The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.

We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.

♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown

I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.

♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around

The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a methapor for something else.

After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.

It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.

Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.

Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.

The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.

♪ There's a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away ♪

The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.

There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.

♪ And they call it Lonesome Town

Where all the broken hearts stay ♪

It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.

Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.

Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.

♪ You can buy a dream or two

To last you all through the years ♪

'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.

♪ And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears ♪

He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.

♪ In a Town of broken dreams

The streets are filled with regret ♪

I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I can learn to forget ♪

The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.

He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'

'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.

'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.

'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.

It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.

'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.

His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.

♪ I can learn to forget

The last notes of the song died out.

He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'

♪ Only you

The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.

♪ Can do, make this world seem right

He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.

♪ Only you

Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.

♪ Can do, make the darkness bright

'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.

♪ Only you and you alone

The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.

He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.

♪ Can thrill me like you do

But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.

♪ And fill my heart with only love for you

They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.

A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'

♪ Oh, only you

'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.

Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.

'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.

"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.

♪ For its true

It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.

I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.

♪ You are my destiny

A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.

♪ When you hold my hand

My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.

♪ I understand the magic that you do

He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.

♪ You're my dream come true

The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'

♪ My dream come true

Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'

♪ Oh-oh, only you

He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.

Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'

'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.

A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.

Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'

And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.

'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.

Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'

And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.

His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.

'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.

He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.

I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-

'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.

Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.

'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.

No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.

'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.

'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.

And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.

'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.

I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.

His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.

'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.

'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.

♪ We'll meet again

Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.

♪ Don't know where, don't know when

My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.

♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day

The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.

I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.

'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.

'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'

I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.

Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.

[bloomries]

AREN'T YOU FORGETTING SOMETHING?

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : the seven demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor).

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : uh-oh, you've forgotten to say you're good morning 'i love you'/kisses!

﹙ ✿ ﹚── warnings : 2nd person pov. gn! reader.

LUCIFER

whether you've forgotten earnestly, or were doing it to tease him, it would be in your best interest to never do that again.

Lucifer's mornings always start the same way; With him waking much earlier than you. He'll stay in bed longer than he lets on, simply to feel your warmth for an extra minute or two. Then he'll proceed to get up, get dressed, brush his teeth, drink some coffee, and eventually begin on paperwork. After a little while, you'll wake up and give him a kiss and tell him 'good morning' or something of the sort— and it's just about that time you'll be waking up.

As the minutes begin to pass, his brow begins to furrow. Where are you? He cannot continue on with his morning without this essential part of his routine! Well, he can, but he doesn't want to. Perhaps you've overslept?

Lucifer finds himself standing in front of his plush bed, but your body isn't there anymore. Where in the world were you? Lucifer's frown deepens, and he turns around at the sound of a door opening.

"Oh-!" You're shocked to see him standing there, pouting. He'd usually be in his office by now, what was he doing scolding at the side of the bed? You give him a glance over, looking at him as if he's grown two heads— which proves to irritate his already foul mood. "Is everything okay?"

"Where were you?"

"Using the bathroom." You state, thinking it was obvious since you just came out of the master bathroom that was connected to his room. "What's wrong?" You ask, but Lucifer refuses to tell you, embarrassed perhaps? He just sighs, looking off in the other direction.

"Well, if you don't tell me, I can't fix it." You state matter-of-factly, making your way towards him. He grumbles that you 'forgot something important' and you begin to wrack your brain for what you could be forgetting. It's not an anniversary or a birthday, nor a date. It's not your turn to make breakfast or do the laundry either.

"Nevermind." Lucifer exhales, "It was childish anyways." Beginning to recognize his silly behavior, he decides to just end the ordeal before he make a fool of himself— that is, until you catch his hand and pull him towards you, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I didn't forget, I literally just woke up. Moping around because you thought I forgot to give you a 'good morning' kiss. You're becoming a softie, Lucifer." An annoyed breath leaves his lips, arms crossed over his chest as you continue to coo and tease him. He just hopes his cheeks aren't growing red from how hot they feel.

MAMMON

he will never, ever, ever let you forget— whether that be because of his incessant whining or not, who knows?

Mammon swears he's never seen someone look so good in the mornings, yet there you are. He rolls on to his side, watching as you get ready for the day. Surprisingly, he stays quiet, waiting patiently for his gift to arrive before you leave— and finally you take notice of his awakened form.

"Oh, good, you're awake." You smile, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He closes his eyes, tilting his head towards you in a familiar fashion. "I promised Asmo I'd help him with something, it'll probably take us a while." You inform him, but he isn't really listening, he just wants his kisses and 'i love you.'

But it doesn't come, instead a "I'll be leaving now," is what he hears and Mammon won't have it.

"Hold on- Wait- Ya really just gonna leave like that?" He whines, managing to push himself upwards to sit on the bed. "You can't leave yet." He's giving a mix of a glare and a sad pout that makes your stomach swirl with guilt.

"Well, I did promise Asmo... But I'll try and come back soon-"

"No, not that!" Mammon huffs, "I'm talkin' about- Wait, can you do that too?" You nod, chuckling at his excitement at the prospects of you coming back early- but don't think he's forgotten his original train of thought. "A- Anyways, I mean, aren't ya forgettin' somethin'?"

"Hm?" And even though you originally seemed to have genuinely forgotten, the way you hummed makes it seem as though you're teasing him. "Am I? Whatever could I be forgetting? No, I'll just be leaving now~"

"Noooo," Mammon groans, nearly falling off the bed in an attempt to get to you. "C'mon, don't make me say it." You simply wait, just staring at him with such a playful look that he knows he'll have to say it if he wants to get what he wants. He sighs, burying his face into your side.

"Damn it... Say ya love me 'n shit..."

Stifling a laugh, not wanting to push your luck, you run your fingers through his hair. "I love you." You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can be." Mammon's grip tightens on you, not wanting to let you go, but ultimately letting go, grumbling how you better not keep him waiting for his good morning kiss next time.

LEVIATHAN

don't- don't do this to him— hasn't he been through enough? he'll be thinking about it all throughout the day, and at the end, he'll be a sniveling mess.

Levi is waiting... and waiting... and waiting... And then he watches you wake up and anticipation and excitement swirl around in his stomach (nearly making him nauseous) as he thinks about the lovely kiss you'll bestow upon him, and your kind words that'll fill him up with energy. But he's still waiting, watching as you get ready in a groggy manner... and still waiting... and still waiting right up until you say you'll make sure to take notes for him in class today.

And then you're gone. Levi feels his heart drop to his stomach, his grip on the arms of his gaming chair tightening and nails nearly breaking the leather. Why... Why didn't you say it? Where is the warmth of your kiss?

As if he isn't already in his head enough, he begins to overthink his actions. Did he do something to upset you? Or did you think he smelt so bad that you didn't want to kiss him? Did he forget something important? Or did you finally grow disgusted by the mere presences of him?

Trying to take his mind off of it, he tries gaming, but it's useless. He's losing everything because he's not in the right flow- not without your kisses. And losing his games makes him angry and envious of others. And soon enough he's in his demon form, wearing down the keycaps on his keyboard and nearly breaking his computer mouse.

And then sorrow kicks in and he's just staring at the ground, pondering his life. Geez, had he truly become some normie so obsessed with affection? Is he truly the same man who used to be just fine with some love meter gaining points on a game? Now he needs to hear 'i love you' and get kisses and be held and- Ew, he begins to loathe himself even more.

"I'm back, can I come in?" You ask on the other side of the door. He doesn't respond- not even to ask for a password- so you open the door and peek in to see him hugging himself, sniffling.

"L- Levi?" You enter, shutting the door behind you before rushing over to him. "What's wrong?"

"D- Do you hate me? Do I repulse you now?" He whimpers, and when you say a solemn 'no!' he just gives you a pout. "T- Then why... Why did you say you love me?"

"I'm sorry, I was in such a rush I-" You sigh, holding him close to you, rubbing circles into his back as his tail wraps around you protectively. "I love you very much." You give him a kiss, and then another, and another, and another until he's begging you to stop and to let him breathe- he's not used to so much affection at once yet!

You'll most certainly never forget again, but he promises to (try to) take the initiative to remind you, if you do.

SATAN

oh? two can play this game! what? oh, the cup of coffee/tea he usually makes you? no, no, that's reserved for people who say 'i love you' to their partner in the morning.

Satan is a patient man, but upon you about to leave for breakfast without saying it once irks him enough to voice his demands. "Say, aren't you forgetting something?" You look over him, and a sly smile forms on your lips.

"Am I? Hmm, I don't think so, no."

Oh. Oh you know, and he knows you know. His eye twitches, annoyance coursing through his veins. A small staring contest ensues, one that neither of you win as Asmodeus jumps in front of you and whisks you away to the dining room to eat some breakfast. Satan huffs, fine, he can play this game too!

When you return Satan is reading a book, almost too calmly, until you notice it's the book you've been reading!

"Hey, isn't that my book? Where's my bookmark?"

"Hm? Is it? I must've forgotten— oh, so that random piece of paper was your bookmark? I threw it away, thought it was trash." Satan says, flipping to the next page as nonchalant as he could, not sparring you a glance as he began to read it's contents.

"You-"

"You," Satan cuts you off, "Started it." You blink. Well, yeah, that was true, but you didn't think he'd take it so seriously- You just wanted to hear him say he wanted a kiss, to hear you say 'i love you', to tease him a little. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. But you're certainly not going to back down.

"Fine. Be that way."

Your day continues on, both you and Satan being petty towards one another and growing in spiteful actions until finally you give— because no one can outdo Satan in pettiness. "Alright, I'm sorry." You groan, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then his nose, and then his lips. "I love you, good morning- er, well, good night?"

"Hah, took you long enough..." A pause, before he's got a smile on his lips. "I love you too... Now don't forget to say it tomorrow."

Everyone is thankful you two finally figured it out because you really did switch the sugar with salt and Satan did curse a lot of doorknobs.

ASMODEUS

do you wish him dead? because it certainly seems that way! you're depriving him of what he wants, and nobody does that to the lovely Asmodeus~

"Oh, good morning, darling." Asmodeus says as he watches you pass by him through the mirror. He's doing his skincare whilst you begin on splashing water on to your face. He glances at you— weird, you didn't give him a sweet little kiss. "Hmm..."

And as he fixes his hair, you pass by him again with yet another opportunity to kiss him gone! He gasps, setting the curling iron down and turning around to point an accusatory finger at you.

"You- I know you're usually impervious to my charm but missing the chance to kiss me twice?" He clutches his heart, "Say it isn't so! Do you- Do you no longer love me? Is that it? Is that why you-"

You walk over to him, your tired eyes peering into his. His words die in his throat, nervously meeting your eyes. Had he gone too far? He knew he was being a little dramatic, but it was mostly that, dramatics- flare- he was only joking, teasing, why did you look so serious? Wait- did you actually... no longer love-

"Asmo," You gently take his wrists, grabbing his attention.

"Hm?" He squeaks it out, his heart skipping a beat. If it weren't for the fact you could possibly tell him you didn't love him anymore, he would find this whole situation totally hot! Something out of one of those silly romance games Levi plays!

"I love you, but last time I kissed you without brushing my teeth you scolded me for three hours." You hold up a bottle of toothpaste. "I was just getting some more toothpaste."

"O- Oh! Oh, haha, of course..." He faintly touches his hot, rosy cheeks. "So... You do love me?"

"More than anything." You say, "Now will you let me brush my teeth so I can kiss you?" Asmo didn't bother to hide the grin that grew as he stepped to the side, letting you past him to brush you teeth.

And of course you followed through with your words, giving him plenty of good morning kisses with minty fresh breath.

BEELZEBUB

*cue kicked puppy face* now he won't outright say what's wrong, but its pretty obvious somethings upsetting him- fix it soon, his sad face isn't good for anyone's heart!

Beelzebub just got back from his morning jog when he spotted your figure sitting up, finally have woken from your peaceful slumber. "Good morning!" He chirped, in quite the chipper mood now that you're awake. You just grumble something under your breath, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes with the heel of your palm.

Waiting for you to wake up, he tells you about what he saw on his jog, recounting many interesting tales of what happens before 10 in the morning. "Really?" You chuckle at a few stories, stretching out your body. "Ha, I've got some work to do today..." You mumble, "I'll probably be home late."

"I'll wait for you." He says, giving you that charming smile that sends your stomach fluttering. "Or maybe I'll visit, you just started the job at the new café, right? They have burgers?"

"Mmhm," You get up, getting ready... You still haven't done it yet, Beelzebub notices, upon the silence the settles over the two of you. Usually the silence is nice, comfortable, but you can tell something is wrong— especially when you peek at Beelzebub through the mirror. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Heart clenching in your chest, you turn around and tilt your head. "What's wrong, bub?"

"It's nothing..." He says, but you can tell somethings bothering him. You walk over to him, giving him a pointed look. "Really, it's nothi-" Gently taking his face in your hands, you pull him down to press a kiss to his forehead. The change in his mood could be record changing.

"Tell me what's wrong," Beel wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him.

"It's all better now," He chuckles, nuzzling into you. Still a bit confused, you can sense the difference in his attitude.

"Well, if you say so." You pat his back, pressing another kiss to his cheek that has his mood lifting even more. Hm, but what could've caused that sour mood just moments ago? Oh well, at least he's happy now!

BELPHEGOR

fine. he didn't even want a kiss or an 'i love you' so just go do whatever is more important— wait, no, he was just kidding come back~~~

All your moving around is disturbing his slumber. Frowning, he shifts around so he can watch as you move around the room, getting ready for your day. Why? Can't you just lay in bed with him and peppering him in love and affection? Speaking of...

"Hey," He calls out, and although he didn't necessarily mean to, he glares at you. "Where are you going?" He doesn't let you talk though, instead cutting you off before you had the chance, "'nd were you just gonna leave without wakin' me? Hm?"

"You're awake, aren't you?" You quirk a brow, pulling on your shoes. He snorts, rolling his eyes. Smartass.

"Yeah, but not the way I like waking up." You glance over at him, thinking back on how you usually wake him up (lots of kisses and sweet nothings). You hum, tapping your chin in thought.

"And how is that, hm?" Belphegor grumbles under his breath— you're pretty sure he called you some not so kind words. You wait, almost smugly, for him to tell you just how much he wants your affection. Instead he just scoffs and rolls over.

"Whatever. Leave, you're disturbing me." Sighing, you stand off of the bed and start to walk towards the door. Your steps loud and slow, signaling just how far away you're getting, symbolizing his time to beg for your love running out.

You don't even see him stir from his spot, not until your hand makes contact with the doorknob. "Wow, you're really gonna leave just like that? Tch, what a mean partner you are." He sits up, glaring at you even more intensely. "Seriously, I-!" His words die in his throat as you run to him and tackle him to the bed, peppering his face in kisses.

"Uggghhh, st- stop it!" He cries, weakly pushing your face away whilst actively pushing his face closer to your lips. But soon his attempts to deny your affection dies out and he just melts into you. "You're so clingy," He mumbles, wrapped around you like a koala.

"Mmhm, I'm the clingy one." You mutter sarcastically. "Alright, I really do have to go though- Hey, Belphie! Let go!" You squeal as he rolls over with you, surprisingly strong grip.

"Just a few more minutes- and who said you could stop kissing me?"

﹙ ✿ ﹚thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

[teatreeoilll]

|| Selfish (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

In which Gojo is so protective over reader she's sure he hates her. Couldn't be further from the truth, but how would you know it without some good old-fashioned over dramatic angst?

TW: mentions of smoking and blood.

"He hates me. I swear, I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating..." You catch yourself muttering on the steps leading to the training field. The breeze tickles your skin, you cast your shoes aside to change them to trainers. "I didn't even have time to go back to my room and change. All day it's do this, go get that… I swear, Kyoto sounds like a great idea these days."

Nobara sits beside you, her look shifts to your shoes, "Where'd you get those? I never saw them in this color before."

"Kugisaki!" You plea, "I'm serious, please. Gojo hates me. How does it make sense that I'm stuck in damn Grade 2 for the past year and half?"

"Maybe," She takes her phone out to take a picture of your shoes, "You're just not as good as you think?"

"Oi, Kugisaki, don't talk to your elders like that!" Yuji's voice butts in, he sits with a thump on the stairs next to you. "But I can't imagine Gojo-Sensei hating anyone. Especially a teaching assistant. It makes no sense."

It really does make no sense, you drowned your face in your palms. How are all these kids supposed to take you seriously when they see you humiliated daily? Rejected from missions. Stuck on the same Jujutsu-Grade as the second year students for so long you've lost all hopes of ever advancing anywhere. Forever a teaching assistant, a mere substitute teacher for the times when the truly powerful had more important things to do.

Disheartened, you've reduced to sharing your feelings with first-years before training. "Alright, pair up. We haven't got all day!" You get up from the steps, trying to pick up the remains of your self-esteem.

Dusk crept over the surrounding trees. You've been watching the students for hours now, noticing how through each change in their pairings they've gotten better and faster. Familiar feelings loomed over you. That's it. That has to be it. Another day of watching these kids surpass their own limits so simply will surely be the end of the line.

You marched straight into Gojo's office, not even making an effort to change to something not drenched with sweat.

"We will not have that conversation again," the white haired man didn't even bother to look up from his phone. It's true, you've had this conversation every couple of months - and you've always received the same unsatisfying answers.

"You're right," you found yourself standing straight across from him, the palms of your hands hitting the desk in between you a little too hard.

"Careful with that, it's expensive." He says. You stare at him in silence. How is it, that with all the anger you hoped he'd notice you've directed at him, he wouldn't even avert his gaze from his phone for one minute?

"Saturo, I've -"

"First name basis, are we now?" Another smug smirk sent your way, your cheeks began to burn.

"I think first name basis may be appropriate, since I've decided to transfer to Kyoto." Oh god, when was that decision made? You've always liked Tokyo, the proximity from the city made all your futile efforts here worthwhile. But it was too late to back down. Gojo's hand reached to his blindfold, one blue eye peeks at you.

"Alright, good luck then." The blindfold snapped back on, his attention returned quickly to his phone.

"Good luck then," you mutter to yourself, walking back through the darkening corridors to your room, "Good luck then, huh?" It's been over five years now since you've first arrived in Jujutsu High, was good luck then all that he could say? What a fucking -"

-

"Emergency!" A voice rang through the building. Oh god, what now? You think, with your eyes set on your room to wallow the evening in your newly made terrible decision.

"Someone! Please!" Your legs carried you before your reasoning did. Through the curves of the hallways, straight to the first-year's rooms.

"It's Yuji," Kugisaki looked at you, panting, "He tried to pet Megumi's divine dog. I don't think the dog liked it."

Yuji held out his arm. After a thorough inspection, it was just a scary looking graze on his forearm. He muttered to Nobara it wasn't much to fuss about, the blood smearing on the sleeve of his uniform. "It's nothing bad, we'll tend to it any way to avoid an infection," you prompted him to get up from his seat, "I think Shoko's still in the infirmary."

You sat on the infermary bed, with Yuji already on his way back to his room you'd found the time to share your troubles. Shoko sighed, fumbling for a lighter through the things on the tray next to her. "Shoko, I'm going to Kyoto."

She lit her cigarette, the smell of smoke suffocating the small room. "That's nice, when will you be back?" She asked, huffing smoke in the direction of the open window.

"I don't think I'll be back for a while. Or at all, actually." She dragged a chair to the side of the bed, watching your fingers tap on the fabric.

"I wondered when you'll finally do that. You spoke to Satoru again, didn't you?" A sigh escaped her lips. She'd rarely admit to liking spending time with anyone, but the occasion seemed to call for it. "I'll miss you. That prick always thinks he's doing the right thing."

"I hardly think it's right to deny promotions from anyone for so long. He made sure I was so busy that I could hardly find the time to go on missions." Shoko weighed her words carefully, tapping carefully on the ashtray, removing the ash residue from her cigarette.

"It's because he'd never tell you how scared he is for something to happen to you. It's still selfish, don't get me wrong there - but I think he's far too afraid of something happening that it has become easier for him to sabotage you. I told him repeatedly to stop but he just -" Her words cut off by a knock on the door.

"Ieri! You there?" Gojo's impatient knocking had turned frantic. "The lights are on, Shoko. Open up!" Your eyes shot up at Shoko, speak of the devil. The handle turned lightly.

Gojo entered the room, turning straight to Shoko, not even looking at your direction. You'd managed to quickly find an excuse to leave, struggling to believe that's the same man who'd do anything out of concern for you. You closed the door, fingers lingering on the round handle, thinking how wrong it would be to eavesdrop while pressing your ear to the door.

"You know she's really leaving, right?" Shoko's distant voice lectured. "That's on you for acting selfish, Gojo." As you thought, he said nothing. Quickly diverting the conversation to something relating to a mission, another one you weren't supposed to be a part of. Perhaps it was wrong to eavesdrop. You stepped away from the door to turn to the direction of your room. Finally, some good wallowing time.

-

By the next morning, you've already made all the necessary calls. Wishing somehow it would be harder to convince the higher-ups of your sudden move, but it seemed that help was welcome anywhere, and work always needed to be done.

With your bags half packed, you were almost ready to say the sudden goodbyes to the students. The nostalgic look on every part of your room had already taken over, the final time of staring at that crack on the ceiling, the final time of covering that old coffee stain on the nightstand with a small glass whale statuette Gojo brought from one of his trips. Perhaps it's better to leave it there.

You gathered your nerves, opening the door, just to watch the tall white haired man pace from side to side in the hallway. "Did I forget something?" Your hand held the door open. He jumped up a bit from the sudden voice.

His pacing slowed, he took a step towards you, you gulped at the narrowing distance between your bodies. "I - spoke to Shoko. I think I got carried away, you don't have to leave on my account." The words felt empty as he said them, Shoko must have chewed him out well yesterday.

"You know Go-," You inhaled, "Satoru, not everything happens because of you." He dropped his sunglasses further down on the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes piercing through you. You hardly ever saw him without his blindfold, his stare sending shivers down your spine.

"Shoko was quite adamant it's all my fault, So I thought I better -"

You laughed, "Shoko was also quite adamant that all this time you just cared about me, so I guess even smart people can be wrong sometimes."

"But I do." His hand brushes through his hair, just for it to fall over his eyes again.

"Funny," you snarl, he studies your expression silently. You've taken advantage of that silence to continue, "So all these years you were just protecting me from dying? I thought sorcerers had accepted that fate when walking in here."

"Some things are worse than death," A solemn look takes hold of his face, you could have sworn the color of his eyes darkened.

"Do you take me for such a weakling?" Your tone of voice already deeming the conversation as pointless.

"I never said that. I think you care, perhaps too much. I would never want to see you sacrifice yourself over anything." The joyless tone of voice was far from his usual demeanor.

"Well, now you wouldn't have to see me at all." Your nerves had gotten the best of you. You hardly meant to say it, but as the words were spat out of our mouth, it seemed inappropriate to back off this course of action.

"You're not listening to me, (Y/N)" He could hardly cover how irritated he was, his hand gripped your forearm, pushing you towards him. His breath stroked your face, "I would never want something to happen to you, but you seem to be pushing towards it all the time. Aren't you happy with the students? Why do all of you have to go running around searching for burdens to carry when you don't have to?" His fist contracts tighter around your arm. His teeth clench to stop another flow of words he'd regret later on.

"Satoru, who's all of us?" In your voice a sense of shame, an empty pit has formed down at the bottom of your stomach, his eyes still fixed upon you. The same feeling of being scorned as a child, a tough love you'd thought would pass you by at this age.

"Aren't you happy?" he questions you again, you wiggle your arm as a sign of pain, even as he lets it go you still feel the marks that his fingers left there.

"I am, It's just that -" He couldn't let you go on for a second longer, his lips pressing firmly against yours, your breath sucked away by his tongue. A long minute passed, your hand had found a happy place inside his hair, his arms had restricted your movement and emitted safety all together.

Just as he'd stopped for a breath, you'd decided it'd be far too hard to continue the conversation if this went on.

"I'd like to not be hindered, Satoru," you wiped the wetness of your lips with your sleeve, "Nobody comes to Jujutsu-High to be protected, they come to protect. If I can't do it when you're there, I'll go." You watched his face change, his mind racing behind the sunglasses.

"You can do it here," A piece of sadness was left in an otherwise tranquil voice.

"Good." Your smile had reminded him to breathe, "Now," you mused, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" His laughter lifted the tension from your body,

"Oh - Dirty," The familiar smirk had settled down the final waves of emotion.

-

"Not a word, Shoko." You pleaded to her again.

"If you don't want the school talking about it, then don't have your arguments in the hall." She took a long drag from her smoke, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" She imitates you silently, chuckling under her breath.

"Shoko, I'm begging you!" 

[idyllicidols]

Cuckqueen.

Samo.

Notes: First requester who isn't ashamed. @friskyriskywhisky

***

Your eyes are barely open. The sun peeking through the blinds has disturbed your slumber but your body longs to lay here in this warmth all day. You shift in the sheets with the full intention of going back to sleep, but a dainty arm is wrapped around your waist, a delicate hand wrapped around your cock, slowly jerking you with care and tender affection.

"Mina?" You call out. But there's no answer, instead light kisses along your neck and your back. She hums at you tenderly as she strokes your member in her soft little hands, then presses her bare chest against your body. Soft and warm - but too soft, the bosom pressed against you too large to be your loving girlfriend. You feel more kisses to the nape of your neck as long brown hair drapes over your skin, brushing your cheek as delicate fingers keep on with their dainty strokes, up and down, squeezing with care. You try to turn around to see who it is, but the voice stops you. That all too familiar voice.

"Just relax sweetheart. I'll take good care of you." The voice of Sana. The same Sana you've lusted after since the first day you saw her. The same Sana who's friends with Mina.

"Sana, what are-" your words get cut short as soft, pouty lips kiss you, delicately holding you, then break away.

"You're so cute in the morning...so defenseless," she giggles at you softly and kisses your cheeks. Your cock throbs in her hand and she gives it a gentle squeeze, tugging along its girth in a careful fashion before pecking your shoulders, those dainty little digits never leaving your twitching manhood for too long. It's the first time you've been touched by another woman besides Mina.

Then you hear it, the door creaking open. It could only be Mina returning after an early morning walk, no doubt to have breakfast and bring you coffee. It's too late, the betrayal already happening - one of her closest friends, laying in her bed, jerking you off, kissing and pecking you in your most defenseless state. Mina walks in as Sana continues her sweet assault of delicate strokes, pressing her little fingers against the underside of your throbbing member, her lips tickling the nape of your neck again without fear. Mina looks at her and you laying in her sheets together with wide eyes yet Sana doesn't stop for an instant.

It's over. There's no saving you now. Sana teases Mina as you lay on your side, her delicate hand jerking away. "Morning Mina," she calls out playfully, not bothering to stop. Your balls tense up at the excitement, the betrayal, of it all. "Your boyfriend woke up a little bit too hard," she giggles away at you while Mina only stands there watching. You can't even bother to struggle away either, your lust-soaked brain too fixated on those nimble little fingers of Sana stroking you away so carefully. Her body feels so soft pressed up against you. You're powerless against her affection. Sana leaves soft delicate kisses along your back, those plump lips only drawing you in deeper. All you can do is groan away.

"Oh you're here already Sana? I'm just got some breakfast." Mina tells her friend without acknowledging your predicament. Sana only giggles away again playfully - she won't let you go. She continues her delicate tugs up and down your length.

What the fuck is going on? You ask yourself in disbelief. This can't really be happening right? Your body, however, throbs away with desire. Mina knowing Sana's here, doing this, and hasn't intervened. Is she really ok with it? You'd wake up if this really wasn't happening right? You hear Sana's girly moans as she strokes you carefully away, tickling your body all the while, kissing and pecking away.

Then she whispers in your ear. "Mina told me..." A long winded pause as her hands gets faster and faster. You buck your hips without wanting to. Mina told her... what? Just what did she tell Sana? Sana moans in your ear all the while. "...That you wanted to fuck my pretty little mouth." Your body trembles in shame at those words. But the way she jerks you with careful affection has your body wracked with desire. That delicate grasp, her tiny little hands coaxing the lust out of you without resistance.

Fuck her pretty little mouth? Oh god you've dreamt so many times of plunging your cock deep between Sana's pouty soft lips, running your length between that thick bottom lip of hers, and then the most unbelievable of confessions. Your beloved girlfriend approving of your naughtiest fantasy, sharing such a sensitive detail about you and Sana without batting an eye. Not only is Sana laying here in bed with you, jerking you off carefully without mercy.Mina is standing only a few steps away without interruption watching Sana pump her little hands around you so carefully with a straight face. Everything is too unreal.

Is that why she stood there without question? Is it all true then? Sana jerks your cock without respite, while humming to herself in that sweet girly tone. Your body shivers at her tender assault of affectionate jerks and delicate kisses. Her hands continue without stop. Her delicate fingers send you reeling, a long feminine gasp leaving those pouty lips of hers as she jerks you faster.

Mina still watches. Her jealousy kink in full effect. Watching her boyfriend be stroked away by another girl laying with you in her Mina's own fucking bed - staring on with hunger. Sana pleasures you without abandon, not out of contempt, but out of wanton hunger. And then Sana moans those devastating words you never thought you would hear in your whole life.

"Mina also said she didn't mind if you finished between my lips. You wanna finish sweetie? You wanna feel this naughty little mouth all over here?" Her soft palms jerks your whole length, giving you an ultimate preview. That all too soft bosom pressing up against your body only drawing you in deep. Mina stares on still. Her jealousy only mounting higher and higher with each stroke. Sana jerking away while your girlfriend watches with her own lewd hunger. This can't really be an awake moment then right?

But then she rolls you over, laid down on your back...

"Oh wow. Look at that Mina! He really is throbbing for it now." And then your eyes catch the sight of your lustful predicament. Sana's gorgeous face parked between your legs, smiling up at you with such a playful expression, pecking away at the tip of your leaking member with her pouty lips. Fuck the mere sight alone has you ready to burst. "Sweetie your poor cock is so cute, but that load is gonna be so messy if you blow it out here. Better pull my cute little mouth all the way over so we catch that in one spot ok?" Sana kisses along your sensitive underside before swirling her tongue around the very tip without warning. And you swear you've never seen Mina so horny.

Mina strips off her clothes, sitting you up and wrapping her legs around your waist. And Sana without missing a beat wraps those pouty soft lips so tightly around you before slowly descending along your length. Your body shakes at such warmth and your girlfriend sits pressed up against you so close you feel those stiff nipples. Over your shoulder, Mina watches every second of Sana pleasuring away at your pulsing erection before your very eyes.

Mina groans into your neck so tenderly, rubbing her dainty fingers along your chest. And the girl between your legs takes you into her tight warm little throat like you've dreamed since the very beginning.

"Do you like your gift? Do you like Sana sucking you like that baby?" Your girlfriend moans to you from behind. Those slender dainty fingers only grip your body all the harder as Sana slurps away, those big brown eyes staring up at you for attention. Your hips buck as Mina moans away close to your ear and Sana pulls all the way back to your tip, swirling her tongue lovingly along you. Then those pouty little lips spread over your pulsing throbbing manhood before going right back down.

Mina grinds away against your body, her dripping wet slit brushing against you fervently as Sana continues that slow and steady throat assault. Sucking away tightly with care. Then without missing a beat, Mina whispers softly into your ear with such lust.

"Grab her hair and fuck her mouth. She's all yours right now baby." You shudder from those devastatingly dirty words of encouragement as Sana only tugs at your hips, moaning away seductively with your cock still lodged in her throat. Mina encourages you on by placing your hand onto Sana's soft silky brown hair.

Without much of a choice, your hands reach over Sana's scalp and then tug at those delicate strands. And then without thinking about it, your hips push into her pouty cute face. Sana makes such a whimpering gurgle, muffled between her cheeks. The sound of another girl's throat all around you as Mina whispers more words of encouragement.

"She's almost there. Go on, fuck Sana's naughty little mouth the way you've always wanted." Mina peppers your nape in so many loving soft pecks all the while. That jealousy so palpable as you buck away with haste at another girl choking down your pulsing length with so much pleasure, your girlfriend urging you on.

This feels so wrong. Such a bizarre and erotic predicament that has your mind spinning in all directions with lust. And you buck away at another girl's throat as Mina only tugs and squeezes the skin of your shoulders desperately tight before moaning close into your ear all the more.

The slurping Sana gives your member, staring up at you so obediently from the onslaught of thrusts you drive deep down into her warm wet little mouth without control, and the sounds of your girlfriends voice coaxing you to fuck away without abandon.

"Cum for me baby..." It's all you need to hear. You shudder hard without any warning, releasing in her mouth all at once. And Sana sucks away, the sweet innocent little smile and those pretty brown eyes peering up at you while her tight little throat takes all your seed with naughty delight. Her mouth full of so much creamy mess you barely know what to do or how to process that you've blown your load inside Sana's throat, with your girlfriend's high pitched lusty voice breathing into your neck.

She swallows it all, sticking out her tongue to show you it's clear. "Now aren't you glad we didn't make a mess?" And Mina strokes your shoulder carefully, wrapping those nimble little legs around your body so tight. "Did that feel good baby?" She hums playfully before kissing your ears lovingly. But Sana climbs up, straddling your lap - sandwiching you between the two most gorgeous girls you've ever met. Over your shoulder, directly in your ear, the sound of spit swapping between the two as Mina tongues her best friend deeply without abandon. The soft warm sensation of Sana rubbing her dripping slit along you so playfully. Your girlfriend moaning between hungry soft licks as Sana strokes your hair and hums so sensually close. Those perky breasts pressing against the skin of your shoulders carefully. The room spinning from it all.

"Can I fuck him Mina?" The voice barely a whisper as she rubs those plump swollen labia up and down along your already hardening erection. Mina strokes Sana's soft hair before kissing those lips of hers again without fear or concern, moaning away so closely in your ear as Sana pleads all the more for Mina's permission. "Please Mina...I need it so badly." You feel Sana's body shivering on top of you already as her sticky warm slit drips so much along your cock with lust. Sana only pushes those thick soft labia against your pulsing skin again as Mina whispers so softly to her bestie.

"But only if he asks." And Mina strokes Sana carefully by your shoulder while grinding those dainty slick folds so greedily along your cock again. Sana smiles wide and cute up at you waiting on your beck and call. They really want you to ask for it. Your girlfriend whispering more lewd desires as Sana soaks you in anticipation. Your eyes dart between Mina staring at you with so much hunger as the friend on your lap strokes along your cock up and down.

"Can Sana fuck me Mina?" The question comes out on it's own. You could never in a million years would say such words in a right state of mind. But you're horny out of your fucking skull watching the way Mina strokes Sana so carefully and playfully. Sana expertly grinds her hips while avoiding any penetration, "Please Mina..."

Mina whispers in Sana's ear so quietly you can't even hear it. But you watch Sana's cute cheeks smile all the more, grinning wide and hungry. You didn't even to know the answer, her hips did an the talking. - lining up your throbbing member perfectly for her slick juicy folds. And in a swift motion, you feel Sana's tight little entrance wrapping around your head. Without warning or restraint. Her warm little cunt spreading around your pulsating skin before she drops herself onto your entire length without concern. And they still continue to kiss, muffling out their moans with such lewd soft slurps right against your ear. Mina jerks her little fingers along Sana's silky strands as her tight dripping slit consumes your shaft without pause. Two sets of legs wrap around and squeeze tight against your body.

Sana bounces, up and down, over and over. It's not aggressive, in fact it's almost tender and slow in a way. The incredible feeling of another girl fucking your length so carefully with those sweet cute little gyrations. Your hands grab her ass, the first time your hands actually touch her bare skin, supporting her as her little cunt slides up and down so effortlessly around you with care.

You swear you see heaven for a brief second. Mina reaches out, tugging and pulling at Sana's perfectly perky nipples while grinding her sensitive folds against your back so wet all the while.

Fuck she's so tight, you feel every inch of Sana's little tight entrance wrapping so lovingly around you as she bounces all the way to the base of your skin, then pulls away at your sensitive tip only to drop herself again. Slow, sensual gyrations sending you spinning off in lust filled thoughts of pure sin and debauchery. She squeezes so hard at your length inside her, like she doesn't want you to go.

You're sandwiched between two soft warm little bodies kissing and rubbing themselves along you so carelessly with desire. Sana's eyes start to flutter away, the gyrations turning into erratic little bounces with lust. She rides you harder and harder on Mina's command it seems. Sana staring so directly into Mina's big black orbs, only pleading with soft girly moans into your girlfriend's thin tender lips. Mina smiles seductively into Sana's affection without worry. You're stuck in a trance hearing them exchange soft seductive kisses. Their eyes never breaking away as they play and tug so affectionately along one another.

A soft buzzing at your butt, Mina softly moaning in your ears. Your girlfriend grinding her hips against your body while her favorite toy teases her dainty pink folds. Mina fucks herself against you so tight, panting away closely in your ear. "It's so hot watching Sana fuck you baby..." her voice a lewd seductive coo. Her soft black tresses brushing along the nape of your neck, whispering to you in all her jealous pleasure of watching another girl bouncing away.

Those pouty soft gyrations pushing so much sticky sweet slick all along you. Sana only clenching all the more tighter with desperation. The sweet scent of lust and sex fill the room. Mina grinding away so tight and wet all along your back while your body gets devoured and used by her closest and most cherished of friends.

This is a dream isn't it? You keep saying to yourself. None of this can be happening so early in the day like this. So many twisted forbidden thoughts as Sana fucks herself on your lap and Mina grinds her sweet slick slit all over you from behind. It truly is a dream come true, two world class idols using and grinding all over your body like toys without mercy. Two dainty cute little bodies sandwiching you. Kissing all the way along the skin of your neck and back. Teasing you in ways your mind and body could never even think of.

"Are you gonna cum Sana? All over my boyfriend's cock?" Mina's words only encouraging the friend on top of you more with lust. Her tits press against your chest while she twerks her hips up and down. Faster and faster, until she finally stops. Screaming out on the top of her lungs into Mina's lips with light dribbles of juices coating along your aching length. Sana looks so embarrassed and coy at the same time. Almost like she has an expression of concern, perhaps at having done the most humiliating thing without remorse. Your girlfriend kissing away her worries with so many affectionate little pecks and tender loving strokes at her face. Sana still does not release your member, rubbing her tight little entrance so seductively up and down all the way along you without respite.

"Let's cum together..." Mina whispers in your ear, grinding her hips against you while Sana continues to ride. Her favorite toy pressing all along the small of your back now. Stiff and strong, the powerful buzz sending a soft vibration all the way throughout your bones. Sana bites her bottom lip, throwing her arms around your neck, gazing directly into your soul while her sweet tight entrance squeezes the life out of you.

Mina's the first to break, biting into your shoulder sharply. That sharp pain of her bite - the harsh bounce of Sana Minatozaki - it's all too fucking much. You throb deep inside Sana's most sensitive place. Her eyes snap shut, throwing her dainty fingers into Mina's long raven strands of hair before squeezing the very life out of you all while the three of you lose yourselves to the depths of debauched passion and lewd sin.

A damned explosion into Sana's soaking cunt, your girlfriend groaning into your back in utter lust, and Sana quivering her body against yours with such desire. A series of heavenly spasms you feel in her depths and that familiar tinge of utter elation. Sana milks you dry, staring at you with a combination of absolute innocence and sweet carnal desire. Mina finally releasing her teeth from your shoulder, letting out the cutest soft gasp as her warm sticky snatch shudders and rubs all along you all the more.

"It's so creamy..." Sana giggles, using her cute catch phrase to describe the load you've released inside. A delirious orgasm shared among three. After all is said and done and the heavy panting simmers back down. The realization of it all dawns on you. A fantasy you would have never thought to be real becoming a reality before your own eyes. Mina hugs your body close to hers as Sana relaxes into you sweetly as well. They both are breathing softly against you, neither letting go, as if in agreement of a decision made silently and mutually.

A heavenly sandwich, two Japanese beauties laying on your skin. Two sweet seductive bodies both naked and grinding against you so affectionately while the morning rays peek through the window blinds, ready for the new day.

It takes awhile for your hearts to settle, but they do. Falling back on the bed with two angels on either side of you, exhausted, completely and utterly exhausted. This could go down as the single best way to start a day. And yet the high you feel is nearly unnatural. Sana curls into your side, staring at you with a sort of innocence while Mina clutches your hand tightly in hers.

It's over. For now. Mina fulfilling your most wild of fantasies and then some. One last kiss pressed to your cheek, her fingers intertwined with yours, and Mina relaxes into your chest. Sana following suit with an embrace, her palm reaching across your abdomen for Mina, taking her fingers into hers as the three of you lay there resting together with serenity.

What a way to start the morning.

[hongism]

AND IT'S SNOWING... - A WINTER FIC FEST

brought to you by bee (@atzfilm) and caly (@hongism)

tis the season for fics that have absolutely nothing to do with christmas and everything to do with other tomfoolery! (aka we spent an hour and a half trying to figure out how to make our concepts be christmas-themed just to forgo the idea of christmas altogether...) from aliens to fae to the ex-turned-sugar-daddy, tune in this winter season for shenanigans... and it's snowing! ❄

all fics are rated m and not intended for underage audiences. please heed individual warnings attributed to each work.

WINTER BLOSSOM

written by atzfilm pairing: k.yeosang x reader genre: alien au, secret relationship summary: earth abandoned centuries ago, you travel the cosmos alone. you land on a smaller planet, meeting an exiled dweller that calls himself yeosang.

WHAT LIES BENEATH US

written by hongism pairing: c.san x reader genre: college au, established relationship summary: one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

APRICITY

written by atzfilm pairing: c.jongho x reader genre: faeries au, enemies to lovers summary: with your kingdoms having been at war for centuries, it's only fitting that you would be kidnapped and locked in the room with your sworn enemy – choi jongho.

SWEET JUICE

written by hongism pairing: s.mingi x reader genre: witches/warlocks au, strangers to lovers summary: the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.

LOVERS IN THE NIGHT

written by atzfilm pairing: j.yunho x reader genre: sugar daddy au, exes to lovers summary: just out of your college with a freshly printed degree, you set out for a job that would fit your somewhat high standards. after a brief scroll through a sugar daddy website and a meeting set-up, you sit across from the one man you didn't expect to see — jeong yunho, your ex-boyfriend and apparently, a millionaire looking for someone to spoil.

SILLAGE

written by hongism pairing: k.hongjoong x reader genre: royalty au, first love summary: sillage — the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume — it hardly takes much to fall

SEASONS

written by atzfilm pairing: p.seonghwa x reader genre: blind date au, friends to lovers summary: after failing over and over on every date you've gone on, your friends finally resort to setting you up on a blind date in the hopes of making things go right.

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

written by hongism pairing: j.wooyoung x reader genre: roommates au, fake dating summary: you imagine that you've cut yourself a rather decent deal in bagging jung wooyoung as your roommate, and yet, things that seem a little too good to be true have a way of cracking at the seems all too easily.

fics created and written by atzfilm and hongism, 2023. all rights belong to owners. do not copy, emulate, translate, or alter the works in any fashion without permission.

[p4p1l0nn]

lover boy.

pairing: mark x fem!reader

content warning: 18+, slight choking, slight clit play, perv!mark

a/n: just spicing things up a bit ;)

it's not uncommon to find you strolling around the house without a bra. one might say it's your signature at-home fashion statement. no underwire, no problem — just the laid back charm of embracing the freedom within your own four walls.

today is no exception. no fuss, no worries. you continue being authentically you, leisurely walking through the shared space in your braless glory. the sunlight gently filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your carefree silhouette.

unfinished chores turn into a kind of impromptu dance, a relaxed ballet as you effortlessly float from room to room. mark, usually used to your chilled-out vibe, starts picking up on the subtleties of your unbridled ease. the way your laughter rings out freely while folding laundry and those random spins in the kitchen while whipping up something tasty.

mark, being mark, can't help but sneak a few glances. there's a subtle change in his demeanor, like a light bulb flicking on in his brain. he's starting to see the beauty in your straightforward comfort. you're not even trying, but in his eyes, you're creating a mosaic of everyday moments that radiate a surprising charm.

in the kitchen, you wield utensils like a culinary wizard, the smell of your cooking wafting through the air. the familiar clatter of pans becomes a rhythm that mark finds himself vibing to, caught up in the symphony of domesticity.

you reach for spices on a high shelf, and mark can't help but appreciate the natural flow of your movements. in his head, he's mumbling, “damn, who knew grabbing spices could look so . . .” he shakes off the thought, not wanting to sound too much like a pervert.

mark, while watching you, says with a chuckle, “you've got this whole domestic goddess thing down, huh?”

you grin, “well, someone's gotta keep this place from turning into chaos.”

and there it is. your simple response does something to him. maybe it's the soft sigh escaping your lips, a sigh of satisfaction from all the hard work you put into cooking. he can't quite put his finger on it, but he's sure there's just something about you looking so small in his shirt. the right side slips off your shoulder, exposing your collarbones.

mark can't help but let his mind wander into more perverted territories. “well, isn't this a delicious sight? i'm not just talking about the food,” he mumbles, a sly grin playing on his lips.

you glance over at him, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. “what's that look for?”

mark, with a smirk, replies, “just admiring the view. you, in my shirt, cooking up a storm. it's like a feast for the senses.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “feast for the senses? mark, you're being ridiculous.”

mark chuckles, “ridiculously accurate, you mean.”

as you continue with your culinary magic, mark keeps his thoughts going. “i must say, this kitchen has never looked so appealing. or maybe it's just you. hard to tell.”

you blush, trying to play it cool, “stop talking nonsense, mark.”

mark grins, “nonsense? i call it appreciating art when i see it.”

“you're getting all shy now?” mark smirks, strolling into the kitchen when you don't immediately respond. up close, he sees you wearing a tiny short underneath that oversized cloth of his. he shifts slightly to the side, aiming for a better look at your face.

as he takes in the sight, he notices beads of sweat forming on your forehead, some hair sticking to your face. but to mark, you look hot. really hot. he licks his lips involuntarily.

you, on the other hand, glance at him with a mixture of shyness and amusement. “mark, can you not right now? i'm trying to cook here.”

mark grins, unabashed. “is it just me, or is it getting hotter in here?”

you shake your head, laughing off his perverted remarks. “stop exaggerating. it's just the kitchen, mark.”

mark leans against the counter, still eyeing you appreciatively. “well, the kitchen's never been this . . . steamy before.”

you playfully toss a piece of lettuce at him. “quit it, or you won't get any of this deliciousness.”

mark catches the lettuce mid-air, winking at you. “i can always settle for a different kind of feast, you know.”

rolling your eyes at mark's lingering gaze, you dismiss his comments and focus on the simmering pots on the stove. the aroma of the food intensifies, signaling that your cooking creation is nearing completion. you decide it's time to enlist mark's help in setting the table.

“mark, can you set the table, please? the food's almost ready,” you request, gesturing toward the dining area.

mark, being the pervert he is, can't resist turning the innocent request into something more. “gosh, i love it when you beg,” he says with a sly grin, his gaze locking onto yours as if daring you to react.

you shoot him a playful glare, not entirely surprised by his antics. “i'm not begging.”

but mark, persistent in his teasing, takes a moment to look at your face before slowly saying, “beg again, baby.”

you feel a sudden rush of shyness, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in the conversation. “mark, seriously? just set the table,” you mumble, trying to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks.

“but i can't move, baby,” mark said, his voice carrying a deep groan. surprised by his boldness, you turn to look at him, only to find him palming himself and squeezing his bulge while letting out a content sigh.

it stirs your mind a bit, but you decide to play it cool and pay no attention to his provocative display. closing the stove, you tiptoe to retrieve the plates from the cabinet. unbeknownst to you, mark takes a discreet peek from below, his gaze lingering on the exposed skin as your shirt rides up.

“seriously?” you call out to his actions.

he smirks, acting innocent. “what? just admiring the view from down here.”

mark quickly discards his hand, offering to take the plates, citing your difficulty in reaching them. you appreciate his seemingly helpful gesture, and he sports a sheepish grin.

“sorry about that earlier,” he says casually as he reaches for the plates.

you nod, still focused on other preparations. “just get the plates, please.”

with a sly grin, he seizes the opportunity to grind his hard dick against you as he retrieves the plates. your gasp reveals your surprise, and mark, the mischievous charmer, continues his playful tease.

“oops, my bad again,” he says, feigning innocence.

you catch onto his mischievous intentions, deciding to play the game too. before he can even grab the plates, you grind your ass directly into his bulge, earning a deep, low groan from mark. in response, he tightly grips your hips.

“careful there, princess.” mark says in a seductive tone, his voice laced in desire.

“you wanted this, so i'm giving it to you,” you reply, maintaining a playful tone. mark stays quiet, leaning in with a dangerous proximity. his lips hover dangerously close to your ear, and he nibbles.

mark smirks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “giving it to me, huh? careful what you wish for, princess.”

you roll your eyes, challenging him, “oh, i can handle it, mark. can you?”

mark, undeterred, whispers, “i guess we're about to find out.”

without a warning, he slipped his hand into your shorts, his touch sending an electric thrill through your body. a gasp escapes your lips, caught off guard by the sudden bold move.

his cheek presses to yours as he said, “now, let's see how far you're willing to go.”

the proximity intensifies the already charged atmosphere, and you can feel the heat radiating between your bodies.

in response, you turn your head slightly, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. the taste of neediness lingers as your tongues dance in a rhythmic exploration. mark's hand, still nestled in your shorts, becomes more daring, tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine.

his fingers ventured further, reaching past your panties. he forced his way to your slit. caressing you with no shame on his face. “ah, baby, wet already?”

you gasped. unable to control your tongue. stomach filled with fireworks as mark's delicate fingers does its wonders.

“just for you,” you reply with a smile. mark, unable to resist, turns you around, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. the intensity builds, each touch sending electric pulses through your bodies.

both of you sigh into the kiss, caught up in the intoxicating moment. mark trails down to your neck, leaving a few marks. as you catch your breath, mark compliments you with a whisper, “that's my good girl.”

you wrap your arms around mark's shoulders, bringing him closer as the heated make-out session continues. mark, caught up in the intensity of the moment, lifts up your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin, squeezing it gently.

slowly, his hands making their way down until he grabs a handful of your ass. you gasp into his lips, and mark takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss. he slips his tongue into the dance of passion, as every touch and movement adds to the fiery exchange between you two.

after the passionate makeout, you and mark catch your breath, leaning on each other's foreheads. mark gazes at you lovingly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face — your eyes, nose, and lips. eager to feel closer, he guides your hand to the nape of his neck, and you comply, wrapping your hand around it.

your touch elicits a satisfied sigh from mark as he briefly closes his eyes, savoring the feeling. feeling emboldened, your hand trails down slowly, gliding from his throat, to his chest, then to his abdomen, and grasp his confined bulge, undoubtedly swollen by now and yearning to be set free.

soft moan escapes from mark's lips, “let's move this to the bedroom, so i can feast on you until i'm satisfied.”