dogmadebate-official-blog

[problematic0011]

𝐂αυ𝗀ɦ𝗍

Title: Caught

FEM!reader x Richie Tozier

Prompt: Y/N usually take the city bus with her friends, also known as the Losers Club, well this time she feel asleep on the bus and wakes up on her long time crushes’s lap, Richie Tozier. 

[The Losers are like 15 or 16 in this 🎈]

I walked onto the cold, loud bus. I searched the seats for Eddie, the chatter on the bus was almost louder than my own thoughts, but it all got shut out when I sat down happily on the blue hard plastic seats on the bus right next to my best friend since the day we were born, Eddie Kaspbrak, he smiled at me, the bumps in the bus bouncing me in my seat and the view outside speeding by as we gained speed. I ruffled his brown hair, he swatted my hand away. "You could have lice."

"Wha- You make no sense, Kaspbrak."

"I make perfect sense, lice can be transf-" I cut him off by quickly jerking my head so my hair swung into his face and hair. 

That boy shrieked. 

I stopped and started dying of laughter, to the point I was basically falling off my seat. "This is not funny." Eddie pouted. I panted and looked at Eds.

"This is hilarious, Eds."

"Here comes your boyfriend." Eddie said in a sing song voice. I looked to see Richie coming over. 

“Hey, Eds,” Richie greeted, taking a seat next to me. “Hey, hot stuff.” He smirked at me.

"Fuck off, Tozier." I said to him. I had a massive crush on Richie but I pretended like I hated when he said stuff like that. I grabbed a book from my bag and started reading as Eds read over my shoulder. I felt a tug on my hair, I looked up to see Richie attempting to braid a small strand of my hair, I rolled my eyes and continued to read.

After a bit I felt a wave of tiredness wash over me. I rested my head on Eddie's shoulder and fell asleep.

The bus hit a bump and I woke up, I looked up to see Richie. My head now rested on Richie's shoulder and my legs were draped over his, practically sitting on his lap. Hey, you're awake, hot stuff." Richie said happily. I looked to see Eddie, Stan and Bill with smug smirks on their faces, Bill and Stan sat across from us just staring. I closed my eyes again.

"S-seriously y-y/n?" Bill asked. "W-aasn't this you, 'o-oh, I don't l-like Richie' 'no h-he's just a f-friend' 'R-Richie is s-so annoying, I d-don't like him'?"

"What, his shoulder's comfy. Don't judge me." I defended myself. "And I don't like Richie."

"Sure you don't, hot stuff."

I blushed. "Don't even act like you don't like that nickname." Eds joked.

"W-when's the w-wedding?" Bill teased. Richie wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head which made my face go red and hot.

"Can you guys stop PDAing, it’s disgusting." Stan said.

"Oh, what, you mean this?" Richie placed his fingers under my chin and tilted my head up and we kissed. At first I was taken aback, my eyes shot open, the vicious vampire butterfly’s in my stomach felt like they were on cocaine. But I relaxed after a second, my hands found his hair and I leaned into the kiss, his kiss felt like a breath of fresh air, like I could finally think and move freely, like I was living life for the first time. My hands twisted in his hair and his arms wrapped around my waist. When we finally broke apart it was because I felt a cold wet substance dump all over us. I looked up to see and smirk plastered on Eddie's face while he held a now empty plastic water bottle above our head. I didn’t care that I was wet and cold sitting on a loud crowded bus, I was pumped I just kissed Richie.

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter fourteen

Chapter list

Sylvie

"Our fuckin brother eh?" grumbled Ada with a roll of her eyes. She was lying back on the settee in the original living room - the cosiest of the three which had now been built into the house apparently - one foot kicked up on the arm of the sofa, the other leg dangling lazy over the side.

I sat on the floor playing with little Karl who was still small enough that he could clamber up over my ribs and use my body as a climbing frame. It was a game I remember I'd enjoyed playing with John and Arthur when I was a wee girl too and it felt kind of funny to be playing it now as an adult.

"Fuckin dinlow," I agreed, "thinks he can shift us around like chess pieces,"

"Hmm," she agreed, "one day someones going to show him he can't play dictator forever," she said reaching down to hold Karls hand, "Don't let him trample you love you need those legs," she said trying to tug Karl away from my shins.

"He's fine," I said with a small smile, "he's still so tiny I can barely feel him."

Karl was giggling as he teetered and flailed trying to learn his balance as he stood on my thighs. Ada laughed.

"You must be joking Fen I swear the little rot get heavier every day," she said her smile glowing as she tousled his hair fondly, "looks more like his dad everyday,"

"Yeah," I said pinching the little boys cheek, making him giggle and snatch at my thumb, "he's got his smile hasn't he, your eyes though I think..."

"Our mams eyes," she said, "and mine and yours and Fens," she said, her smile lingering despite her sad sigh, "reckon every baby born into this family from now until forevers gonna have her eyes... The shelby curse just can't be lifted eh?"

I thought about my own streak of Shelby then, the dead hollow which had gouged my chest earlier that morning, the dark dead feeling which lined my ribs and left a pins and needles tingle in my fingers.

Then I looked at Karl, looked into his eyes and hoped it wasn't true. They were Ada's eyes though, and Ada was right. Everyone always said we had our mams eyes, so perhaps little Karl was doomed too.

I felt the tip of the sadness I knew I should have felt, like a paintbrush dabbing hesitant emotion over my chest. I knew exactly how I should have felt but instead of feeling the ache of it deep inside me, instead of really feeling it, instead I felt only surface level sorrow. A fleeting glimpse at the thought of feeling. And then just like that nothing at all.

"No," I said, "not little Karl, he's gonna be just right." I said already thinking of something else. My mind already preocupied with other things, other plans I hadn't really finished making. Things I should have thought through but had neglected to in my determination to simply make sure they came to be.

Isaiah had been standing quietly by the living room door, leaning back against the wall. His eyes watching me and little Karl, occasionally skirting the rooms perimeter. Every now and then he'd wander to the window sill and lean in the frame, watching the grounds and the drizzling afternoon. The gloom rolling in from the peaks. I knew what he was thinking, knew he was hoping I'd change my mind, lose this blinding determination and see some 'sense' but if he thought that was going to happen now then he clearly didn't understand our family as much as he thought he did.

"For gods sake Isaiah stop skulking about, you've got free will you know..." teased Ada making a lazy and dismissive gesture with her hands, beckoning him over so that he really had no choice. He might have been a bit of a cocky prat but he never defied Ada. I thought perhaps he was secretly scared of her... That or he was harbouring a crush on her that made it impossible for him to contradict her or ignore her. "Get that gun away, its fucking vile, guns around children... You know statistics say..."

"Got my orders Ada," he said with a sigh, taking one last look out of the window before he came to sit with me on the floor, "so you can worry about your statistics and I'll worry about keepin you safe..."

She laughed at that, a cruel almost spiteful laugh as if to let him know she didn't believe he could, or, that she didn't believe she needed him to. He scowled but he didn't argue, didn't let her see his irritation, just focussed on me and reached out to Karl offering him a finger to hold on to.

"From what exactly? Tommys already seen to it that we're kept locked away... Don't kid us Isaiah, you're here more to keep us inside than keep them out,"

I couldnt hold back my smirk, she was right and he knew it. Tommy could spin his story however he liked, with the perimeter guarded by Blinders, with all his high tech security doors and cameras, his panic rooms tucked deep inside the walls, all his escape routes too, Isaiah's job was less about defense and more about playing prison guard.

"Just put the gun away," sighed Ada, "I don't want Karl getting used to it,"

So he did, tucking it back into the waistband of his jeans. Karl not even noticing the weapon, too busy focussed on me, still trying to climb and clamber over the frame of my body.

"Careful lad," chuckled Isaiah, scooping him up when he saw me wince because the little one had unwittingly stepped on a bruise. I'd over stretched myself a week or so ago and had taken a tumble half way through class when my partner had placed my down and the muscles in my leg had quivered and given way. It happened more frequently than any dancer of my calibre was pleased to admit, but the humiliation of the scene had stuck with me and it was more that than the little stab of pain which had drawn the wince from me.

"You gotta be careful with our Sylvie lad, them ballerinas are made of delicate stuff y'know," he said letting the boy climb up his chest instead, earning himself a knee to the ribs that made him cough and crack a selfaware kind of grin.

"What about footsoldiers eh, whatre they made of?" chuckled Ada painting the poor lads cheeks a scarlet shade.

He shrugged it off, laughing as he played with Karl and watching him then almost made me feel guilty. He was trying his best to do everything right, trying far harder than either me or Ada ever had or had to. And tonight I was going to burn all his efforts to the ground.

But it wasn't guilt that gripped me. It was a dark kind of humour, I couldn't ignore how funny it was. The way we sat there playing innocent, playing with Karl, barely looking at one another, both of us knowing that everything I did was an act. Isaiah unable to call me out on any of my bullshit for fear of seeing the final straw snap.

"Where's Sunny?" asked Ada, "I heard her arguing with Tommy this morning, she still thinks she can go back doesnt she..."

"She's not stupid Ada," I smirked, "she knows she can't and its broken her heart... Its not the same fir the rest of you, your politics will still be there when all this is done and dusted, her spotlight will have been habded over to someone else... She's lost a lot, she's not sulking she's grieving... "

"If she goes back to London the Italians will snatch her up and do god knows what with her to get to Tommy... One lead role ain't worth it..."

"Well, I know that Ada... And so does Sunny, deep down, but she's allowed to be upset about it..." I said pretending to steal Karls nose, enjoying how he giggled and made little snatching hands to steal it back.

"It is a shame," she acquiesced, "god knows what she's been putting herself through all these years to climb to the top but..."

"The Italians would put her through worse," I shrugged, "and she knows it, she'll come round trust me, she just needs a few days to cry... You know what she's like, our very own Sylvia Plath..." at that Ada giggled and clipped me round the back of the head with one of Karls peter rabbit toys.

"Sylvia!" she grinned, "you can't say that!"

"Why not?" I grinned too, "I'm her identical twin... I'm exactly the same," I smiled though it wasn't exactly anything to smile about and I could see Isaiah glowering out the corner of my eye. Probably thinking of the conversation we'd had earlier. Probably remembering how precariously I'd placed myself in the open window. How determined and certain, how horrifyingly calm I had been when I'd looked him in the eyes and promised that I'd do it.

He didn't smirk or laugh along. Even when I flashed him a smile of my own and later when the sun was setting, when I'd argued with Polly about skipping dinner and retreated to my room, wondering where Sonya was because no one had heard a word from her since she'd stormed out of Tommys office that morning.

"She'll be with Bonnie," Isaiah had said thinking I needed reassuring she was safe. It wasn't that which bothered me however. I'd been hoping to steal her away from a moment. To let her know of my plan. How I intended to go to London myself and request Solomon's help. I knew she'd understand me and I wanted to give her the hope my brother had ripped from her that morning when he'd been so cruel to her. Whilst I was in London I'd try to pick up a little information about Freddie, find out if anyone he knew, knew about him and Sonya. If he'd kept her a secret then he was an honest lad who loved her as much as she believed him to. If he'd told a soul then it was as Tommy had said and her heart would be broken. But at least I'd be the one breaking it and I could be as kind as she needed, as gentle.

And at least we'd be certain. At least she'd know she could trust me. I didn't have any alterior motives, I wasn't trying to break her spirit so that she'd obey my every commabd as Tommy would be hoping for.

I was sure that if I could just speak to Alfie then he would understand our plight. I'd seen him around the opera house before, I knew it was the music he loved, the art. Not the girls as most of the sleazy old men who visited the opera houses were there for.

I'd never seen Alfie by the stage doors but I had been the one to water the roses he sent to decorate the dressing rooms every opening night.

I knew he'd empathise with Sunnys distress, I knew that if I could speak to him I could prove Tommy wrong. I was dead certain of it, completely determined to at least try which was more than could be said for my brother.

"You're such a fuckin liar," said Isaiah glaring at me as he closed my bedroom door behind him. The two of us alone together with his bad mood, "all fuckin day you've made me listen to you lying through your fuckin teeth..."

"Don't know what you're bothered about Isiah, morals aren't exactly anyones strong point in this family..."

"Thats your brothers Syl, it ain't you..you an Sonya have never been like that," he countered, his eyes dark, black treacle wounded and fixed on mine. I couldn't look away and I didn't want to either. He was showing me something he never had before. That Peaky boys had feelings too.

And maybe if that switch in my head hadn't flicked over I'd have smiled softly and apologised and taken his hand and been good to him about it, but it had switched and so all I could do was smirk, the veil still between us.

"Well don't get upset about it love," I shrugged, "people change don't they and Tommy really has forced my hand here," I said taking Pip my old toy mouse from my bed and ripping his back open with my teeth as I had done once when I was very young.

Isaiah watched me, that glower only growing more troubled as I pried the little toys fur open with my fingers and delved inside his stuffing. As if he was just a toy, one I'd never clutched to my chest or sobbed into as a girl.

I smiled triumphant as my fingers curled around the things Id been searching for, three rolls of cash tied with elastic bands.

"What the fuck love when did you.." started Isaiah his eyes growing wide probably imagining I'd stolen them from my brothers and that it was just more trouble I was dragging him into.

"When I was seven," I said, "so don't worry I think Arthur will be over it now..."

"You stole all that from Arthur when you were seven?"

"Uhuh," I said counting, not looking over at Isaiah as I gave him my short, sweet explanation, "it was dope money I think, so if anything he should be grateful I took it..."

"Yeah well," he grumbled, "somehow I can't see him thankin you..."

I grinned, a toothy, proud kind of grin, remembering how I'd snuck into my older brothers room and slipped my hand into his sock drawer knowing exactly where he kept his stash. I'd been watching him for several weeks and I'd learnt his whole routine by heart. I'd known exactly how much time I had between his departure to buy and take, and his return when he'd stumble back and collapse in his bed. I knew he wouldn't notice the missing cash until several days later by which time he'd only be able to imagine he'd spent the money himself on extra dope or a bit of something else to take the edge off.

Of course at such a young age I hadn't known the gory details, but I'd known enough to know when it was safe to take it. And I'd known enough to know that taking that money wasn't exactly wrong.

I'd stitched it up inside my little Pip that very same day and vowed to keep it safe for a rainy day. Not just a gloomy cloudy day when the streets flooded and stank of sewage and damp, but a rainy day when I really, really couldn't stand Small Heath anymore. When I absolutely had to get away.

Now this wasn't small heath but the sentiment remained.

"You saved that there all this time?" he asked cynically, "since you were seven?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, "it wasn't very difficult Saiah," I added deadpan as if the truth was obvious to anyone but me, "I moved half a country away less than a year later... Me and Pip have only been together a handful of times since..." I said with a smirk looking down at the little mouse left ripped open on my bed.

Isaiah didn't say anything then, just watched me as I gathered the last of my things. I wasn't exactly travelling heavy, but there were a few things I knew I needed to take with me, and a few things I was loathe to travel without.

As he watched me placing a couple of mismatched posessions into a bag, along with a change of clothes, a few pieces of underwear, an ipod and some headphones intended only for Alfie Solomons, Isaiah began to grow restless. As if seeing me move about the room with such cold precision purpose was making him realise it was real. As if he were suddenly being forced to acknowledge what he was actually about to do. That he was going to go against Tommy. That he was about to take me right down south into the lions den. That potentially he was going to let both of you get killed.

Every time he tried to say something he trailed off, got half way through the sentence and lost the heart. He knew exactly what he was doing just as I did. He was just filling silence, saying anything else he could possibly think of to stop him from saying what he really wanted to. Because he felt helpless up against the wall which was the "Shelby Curse" even if he hadn't quite realised that that was what he was up against.

Its difficult to argue with the barrel of a gun, no matter who its turned on.

I sat down on the edge of my bed with a satisfied sigh, lips together, slight downward curve, soft and relaxed. Too relaxed apparently.

"For fuck sake girl what the bloody hells wrong with you!" hissed Isaiah finally snapping as he snathed the little bag from my lap and cast it asside, "fuckin stand up, fuckin sittin there like that when you were threatening to shoot yourself in the fuckin head a matter of hours ago! How the hell are you just sittin there like that?" he was doing well to keep his voice down, I had to at least give him credit for that.

"Because it isn't time to go yet," I said simply, "and I'm not much of a pacer... Sunny tends to pace but not me y'know," I shrugged looking over my shoulder at the window I'd stood in that morning. Unable to keep the smirk off my face when I remembered how I'd held the poor lad to ransome. He hadn't been expecting anything like that.

"Yeah and when it is what exactly is it you think you're gonna do? Just get up and go aye?"

"We're just gonna go for a walk," I said, "lovely evening isn't it and Tommy thinks I've got a crippling infatuation for you..." at that I saw Isaiah's lips curve slightly, like something in his ego had been snuffed out. Like any upper hand he might have thought he held over me had been vanquished just like that.

"So he's wrong then is he?" he chuckled, his smirk tugging at his lips, confidence not exactly wavering.

"It's not crippling," I shrugged standing up and returning to the window without so much of a second glance at him. I was checking the lawn for one last view of my sister returning but the grounds were empty and I was forced to accept that I wouldn't be seeing her before I made my trip. When I turned back to Isaiah he was watching me expectantly, that frustration evident in his tight jaw, the glower in his eyes as he watched me with a building contempt.

"Shall we go?" I asked dropping my phone on the bed, knowing Tommy would be able to track us easily if I was carrying my mobile.

"Fuck sake," said Isaiah shoving his hands in his pockets waiting to follow me out the bedroom door.

The house wasn't exactly quiet and as we passed down the hallway I heard Polly on the phone talking to Michael, she must have had him on speaker because his voice was loud enough that I could hear both ends of their tense conversation. Her fussing and him growing tired, telling her he needed his rest, needed to sleep. Her saying she was surprised he could sleep after what had happened to him.

Ada lay docile on the sofa in the main lounge, a fire burning, her and Karl glowing orange as they dosed together. Perhaps she was finally burnt out after another losing battle with Tommy.

I didn't see any of my brothers before we made it out the front door but I could hear Arthur and John laughing and shouting somewhere down the hall and I knew the three of them would be sharing drinks under the guise of putting their heads together to fix the family predicament.

"We'll leave through the main gate, you can do the talking," I said taking Isaiah's hand in mine, entwining our fingers so that we looked intimately bound as we walked down the drive.

"Fine, whatever..." he replied, letting his fingers lock with mine but refusing to grip, sulking with me as we walked the long drive through the evenings haze, the mist slowly gathering in from the peaks and the heaths. "Where exactly d'ye plan on walking to Sylvia?" he asked quietly as we approached the gate, his lips a thin but self righteous smirk, like he thought he was catching me out.

"You're the brooding gangster Shiah, I'm sure we won't have to walk for very long," I shrugged knowing full well that he could probably hot wire the next Chelsea tractor we passed. I wasn't really bothered if the owner felt like making the donation or not.

"This is your bright idea love..."

"And you're the most important part of it..." I sneered back, the sweetness which gleamed on my expression as I stood on tiptoes and surprised him with a kiss to the cheek - more for Johnny Dogs benefit than his. He froze beneath my lips but only for a moment. His eyes wide for half a second before he heard Johnny's laughter and understood what I'd done.

"Sneaking about are you miss Shelby... you'll be in trouble if our Tommy catches onto any of this..." he warned though his smile and the amusement in his eyes told me that if Tommy did find out it wouldn't be because Johnny Dogs had been telling tales.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw us uncle Johnny!" I rushed out dropping Isaiah's hand, hiding my face behind my hands in embarrassment so that the older man only laughed harder.

"You're lucky its me out here and not your uncle Charlie!" he laughed, his rushed tone just threatening enough for bus to hear the warning in his teasing, "he'd have your bloody balls Isaiah Jesus!"

"Aye well," said Isaiah, "don't go telling him either eh Johnny..."

"Ahh your secrets safe with me lad don't you worry," he said still grinning, still believing himself privy to a secret and a joke at someone else's expense, "ha!" he chuckled, "young love eh, I remember it well eh, back in me youth..." he started too caught up in his story to realise we were slipping past him until it was too late.

I heard him call after us, something about us not being meant to leave the grounds, but neither Isaiah or I made the mistake of turning back so he was forced to hope we'd be back before Uncle Charlie came to swap posts with him for the night.

I bit back a smile, trying not to laugh so blatantly, knowing that Isaiah already thought me a sociopath after the way I'd treated him before. But when I looked up at him I saw he too was struggling to hold back a laugh at the old mans expense and, when we locked eyes we couldn't help dissolving into giggles at the stupid trick which shouldn't have worked but had. It wouldn't have worked if it had been anyone else trying to pull it off, we both knew that, and as we walked in step down the lane, moving quickly to make as much ground as possible before my brother could realise we were gone, we kept our hands held. Our fingers remained intimately interlinked.

[pet1teyn]

chapter three: twisted and tangled heart

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Y/N felt a sharp burst of pain shoot through her head. She slowly opened her eyes and attempted to adjust to the dim light flooding the room. She took a moment to take in her surroundings. 

She seemed to be in some sort of warehouse. It was dark, smelled gross, and something felt suspiciously wet and squishy underneath her foot. She was too scared to look down. 

Her arms were tightly bound behind a wooden chair and her legs were strapped to the chair legs. 

“OMFG SOMEBODY HELP,” Y/N whined desperately. 

There was a sucking noise from the corner, like someone was slurping through a straw. What the fuck, Y/N thought. Does someone have a smoothie? Are they not gonna share? I’m hella thirsty. 

All of a sudden, YN saw a crimson flash from the corner of her eye. 

As the shadowy figure made its way into her field of vision she squinted trying to make out her kidnapper.

“WHO TF ARE U” Y/N screamed cutely.

“WHY ARE U DOING THIS!!!!!!!!!! IM JUST AND ORDINARY GIRL I'M NOT EVEN SPECIAL” she reasoned as her golden locks flowed in the mysterious breeze that seemed to follow her around. 

From the corner came a sinister giggle. It was hot and manly and super deep. Her kidnapper stepped into the light. He was…

The most gorgeous thing Y/N had ever seen. 

“O-omo,,, o-o-oppa?” Y/N breathed breathily as her eyes glazed over and fluttered shut.

Distantly, Y/N felt the cold, hard wood of the chair against her back and the chafing of the ropes on her wrists. The warehouse was getting colder and Y/N’s mysterious glamor breeze certainly wasn’t helping her warm up.

All of a sudden, Y/N’s eyes snapped open. The mysterious hottie was right in front of her!

“OMO!! Don’t scare me like that!” Y/N giggled nervously in fear. 

Carmine eyes gazed into Y/N’s soul as the man circled around her chair. There was a dangerous, predatory light in his gaze as he slowly stalked around her, his eyes never leaving her face. The slow and steady sounds of his footsteps echoed through the warehouse as Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. The footsteps came to a stop in front of her. Slowly, she cracked her eyes open.

It was him. The weirdo that she ran over in her pink car. 

“...”

“...”

The warehouse was silent as Y/N drank in the man’s handsome visage. She felt his cold eyes flit first to her pink, plush lips and then back to her azure orbs. 

All of a sudden, a tumbleweed blew through the warehouse. 

Y/N broke the silence. “Hey, um. What the fuck. DID YOU KIDNAP ME?!?!?!” Her cobalt windows into her soul lit up in an unholy, fiery rage that promised death if the man so much as breathed at the wrong time. 

The man let out a scoff. Somehow, it was the most attractive scoff that Y/N had ever heard; deep, rich, and utterly mesmerizing. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she shivered from the deep timbre of his voice.

“Oh, darling. Aren’t you adorable?”

Y/N drooled a little bit at the sound of his voice before snapping back to reality and retorting, “OH YEAH? WELL WHEN MY DADDY GETS YOU, YOU’RE GONNA WISH THAT YOU’D NEVER BEEN BORN, BITCH!”

The man raised a single, handsome eyebrow. God, Y/N thought, this guy is like, insufferably handsome. Like, if evil, why hot?

Thinking deeply, Y/N decided to switch strategies. After all, if she was smart about it, she could get out of here AND get whoever the fuck this guy was. He was at least 6K times hotter than all the guys at school.

“W-wait! I’m sorry for being rude to you! Who are you and why am I here,” she asked coquettishly, a fake shy smile playing on her lips. She lowered her eyes to look at the man through her eyelashes, confident that her new strategy would be a better approach. After all, it always worked on her daddies whenever she got into trouble and her brothers, no matter how mad they were at her, they could never bring themselves to actually punish her whenever she gave them that look, like a helpless and trembling baby fawn with teary eyes.

“Oh, babygirl. Isn’t it only polite to introduce yourself before asking for someone else’s name? Mind your manners, darling,” the man smirked as he seated himself on a chair that had somehow materialized out of nowhere. He leaned back, manspreading like only a true alpha male would, and gazed passionately at Y/N.

Y/N inhaled sharply. Oh my god, she thought to herself, this guy is SO hot. Like, I need him. Right now.

“M-my name is Y-Y/N L/N,” Y/N said with a fake stutter, sure that it would make her sound cuter and endear her to her mysterious kidnapper.

“Well, well, well. I guess you’ve earned my name by being so polite,” the man growled. “My name is Sunghoon Park, but you can address me as sir, daddy, or God. After all, once I’m done with you, all you’ll be seeing is stars.”

Y/N’s eyes widened minutely as she rubbed her suddenly quivering thighs together. She felt a tingling sensation down there that she had never felt before. It was strange and unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

The man, Sunghoon, got up from his chair and strode over to the chair where Y/N was still tied up. His hand reached over her, towards her back. With a single tug, the ropes that bound her fell away. Her heartbeat stuttered and then began back up, faster than before. Her breath caught in her lungs as she gazed, eyes wide open, at Sunghoon, the mysterious man who kidnapped her. Unconsciously, her lips parted as she stared at him.

As her eyes glazed over in anticipation (of what, Y/N wasn’t sure), her newly unbound arms clasped together as she shivered in the suddenly cool air. Her breath came out in pants as something within her called out to that gorgeous man who was still gazing passionately into her eyes. She continued to press her thighs together, feeling jolts of pleasure and tingling every time her muscles clenched. Sunghoon smirked, seeing how much his stare affected her and the little actions that Y/N made. He slowly walked back to admire the view. Y/N closed her eyes and tilted her head back, unable to breathe properly under his gaze. 

Almost unconsciously, her lidded eyes dropped to his crotch. 

His rapidly growing crotch. 

She licked her lips. He’s got to be absolutely HUGE, she thought. C-can I even fit all of that into me?

Seeing where she was looking, Sunghoon smiled hungrily. His eyes trailed down Y/N’s full figure, lush in all the right places, perfect for him to sink his fingers and, ahem, other parts into.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” Sunghoon groaned. His jaw clenched, as he desperately tried to hold himself back.

Y/N’s eyes were wide open as her blood began pumping even more fiercely. She could hear it rushing in her ears as her body began to react to the sound of his voice.

Sunghoon’s hand rested on her shoulder and the two of them stared at each other, like they were the only people in the world. Their gazes were full of passion, heat, and some truly unmentionable emotions (horny). 

Just then, Y/N’s last thread of control seemed to snap. She leapt up from her chair and threw her petite frame around Sunghoon, kissing him passionately. As their lips fought for dominance, Y/N felt something warm and slippery press up against her lower lip. She gasped in shock and Sunghoon took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Feeling this new sensation, Y/N moaned into the kiss, her eyes closing due to the pleasure. 

Y/N felt Sunghoon smirk into their kiss but she didn't care. All of a sudden, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, she felt something hard press up against her lower abdomen, something that seemed to be getting harder and bigger by the second. Instinctively, she grinded down on it and was rewarded by Sunghoon’s low groan of pleasure. Y/N whimpered as she felt something drip down her legs. 

“Oh my god,” she moaned as she pulled away from the kiss. 

Suddenly, Sunghoon turned around and sat himself on the chair that she had been tied to. His legs spread apart and he let go of her waist in order to slowly start unbuttoning her shirt. Y/N felt a flash of heat at her core and desperately wanted to press her thighs together again, but she couldn’t because of the way that she was straddling Sunghoon. 

It was like she blinked and Sunghoon had finished unbuttoning his shirt, leaning forward to rest his head on her chest. He breathed in deeply, taking in her delicate and feminine scent.

“God, babygirl. You smell so good. You don’t know how hard I’m trying to hold myself back right now,” Sunghoon whispered.

“Don’t hold yourself back,” Y/N breathed. “I want it. I want you.”

Sunghoon groaned, eyes closed tightly. “You sure, darling? Once this happens, we can’t undo it.”

“I’m sure,” whispered Y/N. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

previous <- masterlist -> next

[beeapocalypse]

have i even talked about jakov here. hes the sole heir of the long running rotgut whaling company after his brother fell overboard in the middle of the night on one of their ships and his father got run over by a carriage and hes got one thousand ghosts in his house but doesnt let that bother him much

[smallestapplin]

EZ EZ ITS PEGGING SEASON H O L Y SH I T

I got a good one for ya!

Its volo's turn, but he'd be such a bitch about it

The definition of power bottom has Volo's name written all over it and you are practically tied uo while he fucks himself on your strap.

The man would absolutely have two bullet vibrators for you, on inside your pretty cunt and one on your clit

You cant walk for a few days and he has a slight lip :")

-wax

Reader is fem

🔞18+🔞

-

-

-

First Volo worked you up to make sure you were dripping wet, then to get your strap on, but the second you had it secured you were pinned right back to the bed, hands tied to the bed frame and legs tied to be spread open.

Next he typed a bullet vibrator to your clit and another placed inside you, pushed right up against your sweet spot but he didn’t turn them on yet, the remotes in each hand while he lowers himself onto your lubed up strap on.

Usually when he is this aggressive you’re the one being impaled.

His beautiful blonde hair falling down his shoulders when he tilts his head back. Once fully seated on the silicone dick he smirks down at you before turning on each vibrator.

The sudden pleasure makes you jerk, thrusting your hips up. Volo moans quickly mix with yours.

“Mmm that’s it, just like that! Be a good-ah! Worshipper for me.”

He places his hands on your stomach to balance himself, bouncing to meet your thrusts.

His golden hair acting like a curtain when he leans over, his so pretty to look at, his face bright red despite trying to come off as more dominant. You can tell he is fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back.

You can only helplessly moan, the vibrations only getting faster, working you up quickly. You thrash around at the overwhelming pleasure, only adding more to Volo’s.

The man cries out, all your thrashing slams the silicone dick right at his prostate. He is drooling he can feel it.

“Fuck! Good pet, so good, come on keep going!” His voice rising in pitch.

“Volo! Ah gonna..gonna cum!”

“Mm cum then, we w-won’t be stopping soon.” Speaking is getting harder to do, his brain foggy with lust.

You always know how to fuck him right, even if he’s on top.

You cum loudly but he keeps going, even after he cums all over you.

“More! More! Come on, you can-fuck! Oh, do better!”

The blonde keeps going, fucking himself harder on your strap on.

His moans pitching higher, you’d coo at him if the vibrators would stop, it’s all becoming too much.

Even after the second time, he still just won’t stop.

“Filthy! F-fucking whore!” You growl. Tossing your head back against the pillows whining.

Volo didn’t have to tell you how much your words effected him, it shows in how he whines loudly and fucks himself harder on your fake cock.

“So good! Sogoodsogoodsogood!”

His dick twitches for a final timed crying out as he cums. Slowly he turns the vibrators off, leaving you two panting and laying in your own cum.

“Pretty boy, I can’t, I can’t clean up if you don’t get off me.”

“Please….j..just a few more minutes.” He does untie you though, allowing you to hold him.

-

“Hey, you’re limping pretty bad there boy, you alright?” Ginter looks at Volo with mild concern.

The blonde merchant waves him off “never better, actually.”

You however called out of work, you don’t think you could face Cyllene with legs shaking like a new born ponyta.

[julesclues]

Helloo how are you? I was wondering if you could do a jj smut in which him & reader are having rOuGh seggs but it's from jj’s pov. It’s ok if you’re not comfortable with it<3

You’re Mine

Warnings: smut, rough sex, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please), jealous! jj, 18+ themes

Word count: 1.93k

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x reader

A/n: this is my first time writing smut, so I hope it’s good!

Summary: JJ and y/n are dating but when she starts talking to some random touron at a party, JJ gets jealous and reminds her who she really belongs to. (JJ’s perspective)

I watched as John B twirled Sarah to the beat of the music. Kiara and Pope were at the bar drinking God knows what. It sure made them get drunk quick though. As for y/n, I watched her intensely as she danced alone, in the middle of everyone. A goddess was an understatement. I downed my beer and made my way to her. I felt myself getting hard by just watching her. The way she swayed her hips with not a care in the world made me wonder how I managed to find a woman like her. Why she would even think about being with someone like me.

As I made my way to her, I saw a man approach her. He had blue eyes, a bit darker than mine, and a bit of a stubble lingering on his face. He was obviously drunk, but y/n being the oblivious beauty she is, thought he was just being friendly. I felt my fist tighten as my knuckles turned white with jealously. He wasn’t touching her or doing anything to her, but his intentions were obvious. At least to me they were. I got closer to listen to their conversation, but made sure not to involve myself just yet.

“Ya from around here?” His hard accent asked her. I rolled my eyes at his cliche attempt to get into her pants. “Yeah,” y/n chuckled. “Born and raised.” Her answers were short and sweet, I knew she was just trying to be friendly. I trusted her to not cheat on me, of course. But I didn’t trust him to not make a move. “So, you single?” He asks, getting closer to her. I felt my blood boiling. “No,” you say awkwardly. “I- uh. I have a boyfriend.” He hums in understanding but still moves closer to her. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?” He puts his hand on her shoulder, and that’s why I finally interfere. “Y/n, baby,” I say, spinning her around to look at me. Her eyes lit up as she looked at me. God, she was beautiful.

“This the boyfriend?” The guy asks, and she turn to him. “Yeah,” she answers nonchalantly. “Come on, we’re getting out of here,” I say roughly. Before leaving though, I make sure the guy knows that she’s mine. “Don’t talk to her again, got it?” I hiss. He rolls his eyes and walks away without a word. I pull y/n all the way to her house and slam the door shut. She jumps a bit, knowing I was angry. “I hate that guy,” I admit, pacing back and forth. All she does is chuckle, making me stop and look up at her. “It’s fine JJ,” she says, trying to reassure me. But for some reason, that made me more mad. “You saying you liked how he was trying to get in your pants?” I ask, getting close to her. She blinks a couple times, her eyes flickering to my lips and back up to my eyes.

“N-no,” she stutters, squeezing her thighs together. I smirk, eyes roaming her beautiful body. She had on tight leather pants that I loved so much, with a deep v-neck shirt that was once mine. “I don’t believe you,” I whisper, as I start to kiss her neck. She moans ever so slightly into my ear, which sounded like pure bliss to me. I attack the other side of her neck now, pushing her slightly to trap her body against mine and the wall. “JJ,” she moans, but I silence her by kissing her harshly. She runs her fingers through my hair, tugging at it a bit. She drives me crazy.

I grab her hands and pin them to the wall, making her grunt with pleasure. “No touching princess. I don’t think you deserve it after what you did today.” She whines in disappointment which just fuels my need for her. I go back to kissing her neck just to hear those little whimpers I always longed for. “Up,” I command, and she obeys, jumping while wrapping her legs around my waist. I grab her ass, squeezing and carrying her to the bedroom. I throw her on the bed and she props herself up with her forearms, eyes scanning my body and I rip of my shirt. “You’re gonna be a good girl, right?” I ask, crawling on top of her and pinning her arms down. “Yes JJ! Anything for you,” she moans, as I grab her shirt and rip it off her body. I look down and realize she had no bra on. “I thought you were a good girl?” I question, as her face turns a bit red. I don’t give her time to respond though, as I bring my mouth to her breast. “JJ!” She moans in pure delight. As my mouth attacks her right nipple, my hand massages the left one.

She arches her back in pleasure, making her clothed core rub against mine, making me moan against her chest. The vibrations make her groan, causing me to smirk. Halting my actions, she whimpers as her nipples harden. I kiss down her stomach, leading to her core. I start to unbutton her pants and she lifts her hips so I had no resistance in taking them off. Her panties slip down with her pants, and I stare at her glistening pussy. I threw her pants somewhere across the room, not really caring at this point. I was painfully hard already, but had to make sure she knew who she truly belonged to. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” I admit and she giggles. “But you’ve been bad y/n. Talking to that excuse of a man. Not realizing he was flirting with you. I’ll show you who you belong to. I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” I lick my lips in anticipation and dive down to taste her.

I start to lick her folds, making her moan and shiver. “Oh, JJ!” I’ll never get tired of hearing her moan my name. My tongue swirls around her clit as she throws her hands in my hair and pulls a bit. As good as it feels, I throw her hands off my head and pin it above hers. “No touching,” I whisper and go back to tasting her. Using my free hand, I insert two fingers into her, but give her no time to adjust. “Fuck!” She moans loudly, arching her back. I thrust my fingers into her at a fast pace, while my tongue leaves wet circles against her clit. “Oh g-god! Pl-please don’t stop!” She moans and stutters. I felt her getting closer and closer with each thrust. Her legs start to shake and I feel her hands turn into fists. But before she could cum, I stopped completely and looked up at her. I removed my fingers and brought them to her mouth. “Suck,” I command, but she keeps her mouth closed.

I pull on her hair, making her gasp, and insert my fingers into her mouth, making her taste herself. “You said you were going to be a good girl,” I say in disappointment and lust. She twirls her tongue around my fingers as I keep talking. “But so far, you haven’t been. If you want to cum princess, then you better listen to me, got it?” All she did was nod in response, moaning just a little bit. I remove my fingers from my mouth and take off the bottom half of my clothing. Her breathing became more erratic as she stared down at my cock. I smirked, feeling confident. She grabs my cock in impulse, making me moan and throw my head back. “Shit,” I groan, but throw her hands off. “No touching,” I grunt. She whines and I get back on top of her.

I align my dick with her entrance, rubbing up and down her folds. “Stop teasing baby, p-please,” she begs. “What do you want princess?” I ask her, and she grinds against my cock. “Princess,” I warn, and she bites her lip. “I want you JJ.” I smirk and shake my head. “You want me to what, y/n?” She groans in frustration, just wanting me already. It was fun to watch her long for me. “I want you to fuck me JJ! Please, fuck me until I can’t walk.” My cock twitches at her words. “As you wish princess.” I roughly slam into her, not giving her time to adjust as I start to thrust in and out of her. She gasps loudly, grabbing onto my shoulders and clawing her nails down my back because of the pleasure. “Oh! JJ! Yes!” She repeats my name like a mantra, causing me to go faster and harder.

I put my hand on her throat, and she moans. “F-fuck yes! Choke me harder.” I moan at her words, pushing down on her neck harder. I make sure not to hurt her, but it was obviously she liked it a lot. I felt her pussy clench against my dick, which made me throw my head back. Each vein caressed her walls like we were made for each other. I felt her getting close, since I didn’t let her cum before. “Shit! I-I’m gonna cum!” She groans, but I squeeze her throat slightly. “Not yet princess. I tell you when to cum, got it?” She whines, not being able to respond. I loved watching her try hard not to cum for me. How badly she tried to obey me. “Be the good little girl you say you are,” I moan. She squeezes her eyes shut and opens her mouth. Her breathing became more erratic, making me only fuck her harder.

My thrusts started to become more sloppy as I felt myself wanting to explode in her. “Y/n! Fucking shit! You feel so good around me baby. Never going to talk to another guy again.” She moans loudly at my words, desperate to cum. I feel my orgasm approaching, as I stare down at her beauty. Her breast bounce with each thrust. This was definitely a moment I’ll think about while self-pleasuring.

“Such a good girl! F-fuck. Cum for me y/n. Do it baby. Cum around my cock!” Instantly, she moans load and claws against my back. I feel her milk my cock as her orgasm runs through her aggressively. My thrusts don’t stop though, as I help her ride through her orgasm. Though she had cum, I wasn’t giving up just yet. I started going faster, as the headboard of her bed shook violently. “JJ!” She screams, clenching her thighs together. I push them open though and hold them there. I don’t think she even knew she was that flexible. “Ah! O-oh fuck! I’m gonna cum again!” She screams, gripping the bed sheets with immense pleasure. “Cum with me y/n! Tell everyone w-who you belong to!”

I cum in her as she cums too, screaming my name. I thrust a couple more times, helping her ride out her high. After I hear her moans quiet down, I roll off of her and lay next to her. The room was silent, apart from her erratic breathing and my panting. “If I had known me talking to a guy would lead to this, I would’ve done it more often,” she jokes, making me look at her instead of the ceiling. I chuckle as she bites her lip. “JJ that was..” her voice fades, as she looks down and smirks. “That was fucking amazing.” I smile and climb back on top of her.

“I’m just getting started princess.”

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Page of Swords

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | three

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You attempt a new skill. Mando attempts to teach you.

Word count: 4.7k~

Rating: Mature

Warnings/tags: gun usage/mentioning throughout, mature language, pining, more dirty thots-ish, angst because why not, does this count as fluff? sure, gun kink if you squint w/o your glasses

Notes: As the reader (you/us) begins to become more familiar with Mando, his perspective starts bleeding in to the narrative, without a blocked off POV. Also, the reader’s past will start weaving (incoherently?) into the story as well. The large italicized chunks denote past tense interactions (which is probably obvious but who knows any more). Cheers x (gif credit: @djarinsgf)

A shot rings out.

Birds explode from the canopy with offended squawks, squalling in a winged flurry to scatter every which way until they recede again into the green, disappearing back into their hiding places. You groan. You thought you’d be better at this.

It’s not that you thought you were some sort of savant, you just didn’t expect to be this bad. Honestly, it’s embarrassing—you’re embarrassingly terrible— like statistically, you should have hit something by now, but you just keep missing—a crowded tree line in front of you, and not a scratch in sight—nary a singed branch nor a bullet holed trunk. It’s almost impressive how poor of a shot you are—and you would be, if you weren’t so damn exasperated with the whole affair. With a frustrated grunt, you throw your hands up, brandishing the weapon haphazardly.

“Careful,” Mando warns slyly, “you could hurt someone with that thing.”

“Yeah, well at least I’d hit something,” you grumble.

The kid had been fussy - almost unbearably so - in the weeks that followed your short stint on Bajic, and your party was itching for some time off the Razor Crest. After his third tantrum in a day, Mando decided to land on some unknown planet you couldn’t even spell to stretch your legs and take a breather.

You had almost sobbed when you saw him drag his menagerie of weaponry over. You knew what this meant, you knew what came next—his weekly, routine buff.

You think he’s doing it on purpose.

Ever since the first time, when you damn near had a conniption ogling him, you swear it’s like he’s doing it just to mess with you. He isn’t—of course he isn’t, rationally you knew that, in fact there was plenty of evidence to the contrary. He’s a Mandalorian—weapons are apart of his religion for kriff’s sake—but Maker does it seem intentional. Premeditated. It’s like you can feel the blistering ray of his gaze on you as he takes his time, roving a leathered hand over the bulge of the shaft—greasing it, stripping it, part by metal part…

It’s all in your head, you told yourself. It’s all in your fucking head and you need to get a grip.

Immediately you sprang into action, busying yourself with anything you could get your stupid, little hands on—in this case, being one of his many blasters.

“I wanna give it a go,” you said.

He let you, surprisingly. He hesitated, at first, his helmet tipping at a disbelieving angle. But he gave in—it took less effort on your part than you’d figured—and Mando conceded. He obliged.

How hard could it be? You thought.

Famous last words.

He’s parked there, settled on a throne of crates pushed flush to the Crest, slouched against the outer hull of the ship as he cleans, from the looks of it, every item in his arsenal—a front row seat to your pathetic endeavor and you’re failing—epically, ridiculously—shot after errant shot.

You line yourself up, scrunching your face in concentration as you bare the blaster in your hands. Maybe this time…

You fire off a round and an animal scampers scared in the thicket. Nothing. Another sublime miss.

You hear a noise come from Mando’s direction, something subtle like a blip of static through his helmet - Maker, he’s laughing at you - and you pivot around to him.

“What,” you ask, although it's less of a question and more of a griping pout. He replies with silence, that fickle language he's mastered to perfection all on his own, his focus pitched down to the bristled rod he’s driving in and out of his rifle, scouring out the residue from the inner barrel. “Ugh, what Mando?” you say, just shy of a whine, one hand slotted on your hip, the other dangling by your side, the pistol foreign and cumbersome in your grasp.

“Didn’t say anything,” he replies with a half shrug, his pauldrons shifting so imperceptibly you almost miss it. You pause, hurling him a look that misses him completely before you heave a frustrated sound.

“Fine, you show me how it’s done then.”

The T of his visor finds you. Its cold and unknowable as he rolls his helmet, tilting it up to you, hands slowing their ministrations to a rest. He’s wears a glare, carved into the steel hollow of the plates—unamused and smoldering—and with it, you feel small; microscopic and withering under his pointed gaze— suddenly too exposed in the open patch of jungled wilderness they’ve landed in and your mouth tweaks, teeth grazing the plush there. You assume he won’t do it. There’s no way he’ll rise to such obvious of a challenge, but he’s sighing—you can see it in the slant of his armor—and marching towards you before you can take it back, drawing closer and closer until Mando’s slated in front of you, expectant and postured and you forget— like the skip of a record, you forget why he’s even there— not a foot before you— and your eyes dance across his helm, flickering back and forth.

“May I?” he nods down to the pistol in your hand and you start - oh, shit - and offer it to him clumsily.

Mando squares off against the untamed green. The air lays hot and sticky around them. There is no trace of wind, no glimmer of breeze, and his cape hangs mute down his back. You’d never seen him fire his weapon. He surrounded himself with them, sure, always had at least two strapped to him at all times— probably even slept with one, you reckon— but you’ve never seen him use one.

With one solid movement, he cranes his arm, taking aim.

Now, you aren’t one to condone violence, but he just looks right doing it; an extension of himself with how natural it is, how innate— an added appendage, born unto him. The pistol looks good in his fist, like it couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else, the orange tips of his glove curling around the hilt, looping over that sensitive release.

He has practiced hands. Methodical. Sturdy. It’s sensual, to watch him like this. Pornographic even— sacrilege in a way. A part of you wants to look away and turn your gaze, grant him privacy as he handles the blaster— delicately, confidently. It’s intimate.

The pistol croons in his palm. She bends, supple and lilting. He knows just where to touch, where to stroke— she does anything he tells her. She melts for him.

Warmth pools in your mouth. Mando pulls the trigger.

He lands an impressive shot onto an impossibly narrow tree trunk nestled further in, and your features contort with amazement. Maybe you want to see it again—like a nosy neighbor peeping in through drawn curtains. Maybe you’re being reckless and smarmy, and maybe you know it. A Mandalorian’s got a gun in his hand and you’re prodding him - brilliant strategy, top marks - but your adrenaline is pumping something fierce and you feel yourself grow bold with each seize of your heart.

“Lucky shot,” you huff.

He pans to you, lolling his head, visor locked onto your face. Without flinching, without gracing you with a remark, he raises his arm and fires— doesn’t even have to kriffing look. The scorch mark sizzles - haughtily, jeering - no more than a few inches away from the first. You nearly choke on the arrogance of it— the lazy, smug performance— like he can’t be bothered with any of it, as if your taunts are all so beneath him.

You have to bite down on your lip to stop it from snaking into a wicked grin.

Mando offers the pistol back to you, flipping it grip-side up in a fancy flourish before striding - strutting - back to his post. You shake your head, a determined set to your jaw and you retake your aim, squinting in the hazy afternoon light, pulling the trigger— and nothing happens.

Again, click. Nothing, click after fruitless click. You make a face, pinching—

“Safety’s on.”

You flush, thanking the Maker that your back is towards him, and switch it down with your thumb. “Right,” you mumble sheepishly, wetting your lip. You align your sights, bracing yourself for the impact—

“It’s your stance.”

Three words.

Three words, the only solace Mando provides before devoutly returning to his work.

You wait for him to elaborate, to edify you— for any manner of sage advice— but the explanation never comes; he leaves you like this, marooned with three fucking words and you have to screw your eyes shut. This man is baffling— maddeningly unhelpful— infuriatingly sparse. It makes you want to howl and rip your hair out— and you whip around violently.

“What about my st-”

Your question comes scampering to a halt, tail between your legs, throat gone dry. Mando has planted himself directly behind you— standing so close you can see your reflection in his beskar, see the blush blurring your cheek under the alien sun.

“What uh, what about my stance?” you ask, mousier now, swallowed up by the sheer size of him so near to you.

“It’s not wide enough.”

You glance down at your feet before looking back up to him. “What do you mean?”

“Turn around,” he says.

You quirk your brow at him before he repeats himself. “Turn around and spread your legs. Hips distance apart.”

Fuck, he has no business sounding like that— like bourbon and smoke and iron tang—but you do as he says. You’re shakier than you want to be— you wish you could be cool and collected but you’re not. You’re anything but, and you’re nervous. Maker, Mando makes you nervous— it’s not just the weapon in your hand, it’s him— setting you off and giving you butterflies like you’re some sort of forlorn schoolgirl. You’re a grown woman, and this is what he’s rendered you to— jittery, molten mush. It’s embarrassing. Fucking mortifying.

You guess it’s the day for it.

He doesn’t touch you, but it hardly matters; you can sense him there all the same, a shadow in your peripheral. He leaves a thick breath of space between your bodies and with your back towards him, you can feel the waves of heat radiate off the bounty hunter, pulsing out out out from him and it’s almost intolerable— as if you’ve flown too close to the sun, waxed wings melting in pearled streaks down your spine.

You scuttle your feet open, parting just outside your hips.

“Arms up,” he says, and you hoist them into position. You’re sure you look as awkward as you feel, if not more, all the angles of your body feeling perfectly wrong and misplaced. “Relax your elbows,” he adds, and you do— you try to, at least.

“Too much. Somewhere in between.”

You try again, strengthening through your triceps and down your forearms.

“Better,” Mando gives. You think you feel him nodding approvingly behind you. “The important-”

Kriff, you panic.

You spin towards him, dropping your form and cutting him off with a humbled, worried look, throwing up barricades and hurdles— landmines for him to dodge. Or step on.

“Wait hey Mando, you don’t- I don’t want to take up your time,” you begin.

“You aren’t.”

“I’m serious, I don’t want to bother you with this.”

“You’re not.”

You blink.

“If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right.”

He speaks so plainly, unvarnished and matte— unflinchingly earnest in a way that gives you pause. It leaves no wiggle room for interpretation and you sigh, defeated, shoulders slumping as you haul yourself back around.

“Arms up,” he reiterates, but there’s no malice there; he sounds kind— untroubled. It always surprises you how mild he can be— Mando should be anything but, he’d have every reason to, but he’s calm. Patient. You wonder if he even realizes it, if he even recognizes the tenor of his own voice— how gentle it can be— under the helmet. Despite it.

“Think of your posture as firm, without tensing,” Mando explains. “Soften your knees, don’t lock them— same goes for your arms— don’t stiffen against the recoil, let your body absorb it.”

You mirror what he coaches, shooting him a curious, hopeful look over your shoulder.

“There. Good,” he says. “Now, which is your dominant eye?”

Your arms fall down to your sides. “My what?”

“Dominant eye.”

You give him a baffled look like he’s speaking another language - in all fairness, he is - and Mando emits another puff of air through his modulator, chortling.

“Eye dominance. We’re all either right handed or left handed. Eyes work the same— right eyed or left eyed. We favor one or the other— you’ll focus that one to aim.”

Oh, huh.

You still appreciatively, basking in the novelty of the information. “Really? I didn’t know that. That’s- that’s actually pretty interesting,” you muse. “Brains and brawn, huh?” You flash a cheeky grin back at him.

Mando grunts, nondescript and unaffected and robotic but he swears he can feel pink creep over his clavicle, tainting the tan of his skin concealed there.

He fits his gloved hand over yours, if only for a second, and you do your best to ignore the rough patch of his leather grazing against the thin flesh there. You try to ignore the chill that sweeps across the curve of your waist, how the peach fuzz prickles up, electrified and magnetized, as he unfurls your fingers from the gun, letting it slip from your grasp. He tucks it under his arm, keeping it pinned there with his bicep.

“Hold your hands out like this.” Mando shows you, creating an oval with his fingers— like a view finder or a scope. You mimic him, feeling like every bit of an idiot, but you don’t contradict him— you do as he does. “Now, set your focus out on a fixed point through your hands,” he instructs and you do, setting your sights on a gnarled tree branch.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it,” you respond.

“Now alternate closing each eye. The image should stay in the frame with one, and then shift out of it with the other.”

You frown, concentrating, and close the right before blinking over to the left— kriff, he’s right.

“Oh shit,” you mumble. “My left. It’s my left eye.”

“You sure?”

You check again, squinting through either eye, the tree bouncing in and out of the frame of your fingers. “Mhm. Yeah, my left eye keeps it centered.”

He makes a thoughtful sound. “Left eyed but right handed. Interesting,” Mando murmurs.

You glance up to him, dropping your hands. “Why is that interesting?”

“Not common. The brain’s typically wired the same way all the way down— one side of the body will be dominant. It’s not usually split.”

“You telling me my brain doesn’t work properly, Mando?” you quip dryly.

“You said it, not me.”

He holds the blaster out to you and you swipe it from him with a huffed snort, returning towards the tree line and stars your face hurts. Your face hurts and it’s burning with this asinine smile that’s digging mercilessly into your cheeks. It makes you want to massage your jaw, get the damn thing to relax. Honestly, it makes you want to give yourself a slap.

“Make sure to cross your center with it. Line it up towards the left.”

“Maker, do you think about all this every time you shoot?” you ask, mystified, as you fix your aim.

“Muscle memory takes over eventually. You’ll get there with enough practice.” Mando replies gruffly and you guffaw, loud and wonderfully ugly. You seriously doubt it.

After a series of very near misses— you are getting closer, you’ll give yourself that— your arms grow tired; the joints and muscles protest as you extend them out from your body, taut and tense— the gun dead weight in your wobbly hands.

Your shoulder smarts where you injured the tendon in the explosion. You roll it out, earning snaps and pops as it notches over the bone there. They told you you were lucky. They congratulated you - it’s not a complete tear! - and it’s on the mend well enough, but it’s weak. It doesn’t matter the weight of the object.

The longer you hold anything, the heavier it feels.

You suppose you could throw in the towel at any point, but the fact of the matter— as terrible and true as it may be— is you want to impress him. That awful, nagging feeling— you want to impress the Mandalorian. You want him proud of you— you want to be nice and shiny for him to admire, like one of the guns he polishes until it’s sparkling, until he can mount it on display and show it off. It’s absolutely nauseating— but you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to, and you don’t. You don’t want to.

He isn’t blind to it. He sees the exertion, the tax— how beads of sweat congress around your temples, dampening the base of your scalp, butterfly kissing your skin with a sheen. A trail of wet salt, one lone pilgrim, ventures down the back of your neck, wandering lower and lower, past the hem of your shirt, disappearing into the soft valley of your spine where Mando can’t follow. His throat bobs rough against his cowl.

Transferring the pistol into one hand, you shake out the other, flexing through it and relaxing your grip.

“Wait,” he says and you cock your head back at him. Mando’s retreating to his pile of guns, rifling through the metal anthill before selecting something sleek and chrome. “Here,” you exchange pistols, giving him back the bulkier of the two. Immediately you feel the relief of this new one— it’s lighter and smaller, slighter in your grasp, too— and you turn it over in your hands, noting the way the nozzlelike barrel glitters in the sun.

You’d almost consider it pretty if it weren’t a literal killing machine.

“That’s a CDEF model. Lightweight, reliable, Dedlanite casing, standard issue for CorSec officers.”

You nod along, as if you have any clue what he’s talking about— you don’t. You really, truly don’t.

“Should be easier.”

“Mm,” you hum out in ignorant agreement, slotting your arms back up into position.

“Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” You rest it against the slide of the barrel, hovering nearby.

Mando shifts closer towards you, the grass grinding under his feet as he takes a half step in to your backside.

“Breathe. Don’t hold it in. Let me hear it.”

Fuck, this feels like a sin; this small gap of distance he’s erected between you as tense, as strained and feverish, as whispered confessions in the dark. Like sneaking back into your parent’s house late at night— the morning moon peering down at you with a heavy lidded gaze— knowing, knowing, keeping your secrets to herself, pressing them to her chest, winking sleepily.

It would be so much easier, so much simpler, if he just put his hands on you. Placed your body where he knows it should be, force you into the shapes and positions he’s so intimate with himself, but he doesn’t. He draws it out. He respects your space and autonomy and it makes it worse. Your imagination fills the void separating you two, and it’s running wild and rampant and depraved and—

“Focus,” he utters, his voice no louder than a purr. You’ve never heard something so mechanical make a sound so deliriously smooth, and you have to suppress a nervous scoff. Focus, he says, as if he isn’t suffocating you with how close he’s standing— as if you aren’t enjoying it— as if you aren’t vibrating down to your very bones at the proximity of the bounty hunter—so close, you bet he can hear them, rattling and slapping against each other deep beneath your skin.

“Remember what I said about your posture,” he suggests quiet-like and murmured, without a trace of condescension there—a harmless reminder. You make the adjustment, fixing your shoulders down your back, and release the stress in your arms.

“Firm without tensing,” you respond under your breath—more for your sake than his— striking it from your mental checklist.

“‘Atta girl.”

No.

No no no, Maker, you feel it. You can fucking feel it—how something low and resonant spasms beyond your belly, the clench of your empty cunt at the encouragement—the heady praise of it all.

Atta girl.

He said it softly - rudely husky - just above a whisper, something tailored specifically for you—almost like it slipped from his lips and he didn’t even notice its passing. It meandered out of him, so easy—too easy. It practically sauntered.

You’re trembling— stars, you hope Mando doesn’t see it. It’s humid and muggy and yet you’re shaking as if it’s freezing, as if you’ve got icicled snot dripping from your nose, and your nerves go haywire, fraying in every direction as you sip in a whistled breath.

You can do this. You can do this. Focus.

“Take the shot,” he orders.

Focus.

Pressing into the slope of the trigger, you fire.

You gasp excitedly— a surprised, whooping laugh tearing through you and you whip around, giddy and beaming - bright, beautiful - a lock of hair sticking to your lip. It’s the youngest, the freest, Mando’s ever seen you; maybe the happiest, too, and his stomach twists at the sight, a tourniquet cinching around him, winding and coiling until he’s convinced it’ll burst. His fingers twitch, every instinct begging him— demanding him— to reach out and return the stray strand behind your ear alongside the others but you beat him to it. Deftly, you flit it away yourself instead, and he’s relieved.

Devastated, too. Gutted.

“Did you see that?” you ask, gleeful as a child.

He pries himself off you, dragging his gaze over your shoulder to where you struck the trunk, a coaled mark charred there into the bark, before returning his attention back to you. You meet his eyes, despite the blackness of his helm— you hold them, for a breathless, ageless moment, you hold him there.

“Not bad.”

He can’t muffle the jolt of his heart as it rumbles through his chest, breaking his mouth wide open into an aching smirk. He doesn’t know if you hear it. He fears you might.

He prays you do.

///

“Cooling vents,”

Metal scrapes against the table as you place the delicate bits down, deconstructing the blaster. The Mandalorian nods, silent as a specter.

“Gas refill valve,”

Another clunk.

“Actuating blaster…” You turn over a particularly knobby bulb before peeking up at Mando through your lashes, a wry grin tugging rosy and coy at your lips. “… thing-”

“Module,” Din corrects.

“Module, right, that’s what I said.”

He sits across the galley from you, arms folded over his chest as he eases back against the hull of the ship, overseeing as you take apart the blaster, the slender little thing he gave to you - he rarely uses it anyways - as you name the pieces and parts just like he’s taught you.

“Keep it,” he told you.

You resisted. You fought it, laughed it off incredulously— stubborn to the end— argued you wouldn’t even have a need for it.

“What am I gonna do with a gun, Mando?” you balked, and Maker he’d hoped you’d never have to use it, would never have to see a firefight in your damn life let alone be in the middle of one, but he wants you to have it— have a part of him, strapped to your hip— the closest he’ll get.

He’s selfish. Din is a greedy, selfish man. He wants to see himself on you, wants you to carry him around like a souvenir from something unforgettable— something irreplaceable— a memory like warm bathwater you dip into long after it passes, and he’ll take whatever he can get— just like you, hungry for anything you’re gracious enough to feed him. And fuck, if he doesn’t hate it— doesn’t want to bury that feeling, cold and lifeless, six feet under the earth. No ceremony. No elegies. Dead and gone, returning to the dust from whence it came, crawling back into the ribcage it sprung from.

Din said your name. Firm— gentle, too.

“Keep it.”

They’ve been at this ever since you managed to hit the target that first time. Hours have passed, dawdling by on the fat little legs of a toddler, plodding and slow. The sun had set, and winged bugs the length of your palm had taken up residency in the dark rainforest, making themselves known with a haunting tune, screeching and singing into the lush wood. After the child had tried making a pass at one, no doubt in the mood for a quick snack - isn’t he always - you had agreed to retire back inside the Crest.

You were so excited, your whole face lit up— like fireworks he remembered once, through the eyes of a boy in the summered night— and you wanted more; like a sponge, sopping up all you could, sucking Din in and ringing him out for it and fuck, he couldn’t say no.

He can’t say no to you.

You start prattling out questions about everything and nothing - what blaster do you prefer, do you have a favorite rifle, what’s the difference between plasma and gas charges, you have a flamethrower on your wrist? - and before long you get him lecturing, going on about weapon safety and trigger discipline and slide bites and ammunition rounds and gun brands and serial numbers and Din knows this isn’t you. You’re a borderline pacifist for kriff’s sake— he’s almost certain that if push came to shove, you’d rather lay down your life than take one. You’re no gunslinger, and you don’t hold any aspirations to become one.

But here you are, fist tucked under your chin and leaning in to him, hanging off his every word.

You have no personal interest in weapons. Frankly you’d be pleased if you never held a gun again in your life. No, and whether Mando realizes it or not, you want to know because it’s him. You want to know him. And maybe it’s because its the most he’s given to you since you stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest— almost a month, and what you’ve gotten from him today alone has been more than he’s given in weeks— not a door so much as it is a window into his life, an allowance, a glimpse behind the beskar. Its more attention, more words and insights, more tiny gestures and maybe you’ve been a little starved for it— maybe you’ll eat up any scraps Mando tosses with a calloused glove, molded and rotting, from his plate.

Even if it’s this, even if its fucking firearms.

You want to know.

It’s who you are: it doesn’t matter what someone’s passionate about, you’re interested in their interests. You care what they care about. If they matter, then it matters. It’s who you are, webbed and weaved into the innermost fabric of your being, and you can’t pretend to be anything else; you don’t know how to unbecome.

You’re splayed before him— a bleating heart, kaleidoscoping and blooming and twisting in his hands. If only you could pry open your chest— turn yourself inside out at the seams, spill yourself to splatter, sanguined and slippery right there on the deck. You’d do it, if you could.

Am I loving enough  Am I giving enough  Have I paid my debts  Am I worth this now, finally— Worth that which I offer, have I earned it back

So effortless, this vignette, seated here in his galley, dismembering a blaster and labeling the parts, terminology klutzy on your tongue— tripping over yourself just to get it out— looking to him for hints and clues, fluttering your doe eyes with cartoonish bats.

He answers. You laugh. He smiles.

The kid is in his pram, entranced by all the shiny baubles and bobbins just out of his reach - thank the Maker -  and giggles at their little game— happy, for once, just to watch.

You and me both kid, Din thinks. You and me both.

[softmothprince]

Text Me Later

MC overhears something after class and is curious to see what would happen if she did it to Mammon.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

MC bites her lip, tapping her nails against her D.D.D., rethinking what she just did. The only reason she did this was because she heard some demons in her class whispering about doing it to their s/o, and when she asked more about it they gave her tips and tricks. Dirty talking wasn’t something she did, it was usually Mammon doing it to her.

But the demons in that group hyped her up, especially when she mentioned that Mammon would be tied up with Lucifer and working on Student Council things. She re-reads the texts again, her nerves rising the more she scrolls.

~Goldielocks~

‘I’m conflicted right now.’

‘Ha? About what? You better not be thinking of doing something without me!’

‘I want you to hold me in your arms and tease my neck with kisses. Make those pretty marks you love so much.’

‘W-what? You can’t just say something like that!’

‘But I also want you to force me up against a wall and fuck me until I’m shaking. Until I can’t even remember my own name.’

‘....you don’t understand what you’re starting, princess.’

‘Don’t I? I know that you’re probably sitting in Lucifer’s office, slacking off to look at these messages I’m sending and imagining that you were here right now.’

‘That’s it.’

‘Mammon?’

message seen

~

That was almost twenty minutes ago. With a loud huff, MC lets her phone fall onto her stomach and stares at her ceiling. She stretches her legs, wincing when she feels the warmth in her belly grow. Writing those texts and imaging Mammon being all flustered did that to her- A loud knock makes her sit up and she looks at the clock on her phone.

She was supposed to be home alone, since the brothers all had things to do. MC cautiously approaches her door and waits for a second, reaching out with her pacts and is surprised to feel the one on her chest- Mammon’s -pulse eagerly. Opening the door, she finds the second born standing outside her room, his head tilted down.

His white hair is a ruffled mess, clothes looking to be hastily tugged at and chaotic. All-in-all, he looks like a mess. Without waiting, he walks past her and keeps his back to her.

“Mammon?” She whispers, brows furrowed when he doesn’t say anything and closes her door. “Hey, are you-”

She yells in shock when right as the lock clicks in place, he suddenly rushes her, his hand going to her throat and he shoves her against the door. Finally being able to see his face, she stops. Mammon’s eyes are dark and his pupils dilated, an almost feral expression tugging at his features.

“This is what you get for sending such lewd messages, sweetheart~”

She stutters and tries to move, only to be yanked around and thrown onto her bed. The hand gripping her neck tightens and digs into her skin, his thumb moving to stroke the pact mark between her breasts.

“Mammon-”

“You knew exactly what would happen. I warned you- but you still did it.” He suddenly pushes her legs apart, his free hand going to cup her clothed pussy. “But you missed me too much to stop, right? I can smell it- your little slit is wet from writing those messages.”

MC lifts her hips up, trying to push more against his hand- only for him to let her neck go and force her hips down as he slips his other hand into her shorts. It takes little to no resistance for his fingers to slide into her pussy, his long fingers easily reaching those sweet spots she can’t.

He hums and leans forward as he moves his arm in time with his thumb as it rubs her clit, pressing his teeth to her throat. He nibbles and sucks on the skin, growling when she jolts and moans into his ear. One of her legs is between his and when she moves it, it grinds against his cock.

She whimpers his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair and clawing at his t-shirt. Red scratches appear on his skin, slowly disappearing as time went on. He tilts his head up and snags her ear between his teeth, tugging briefly before whispering lewd words.

“You’re going to cum on my fingers before I give you my cock, you got that human? I’m going to tease you just like you wanted before I fuck you so hard you’re fucking shaking.”

Her mouth drops open with a small line of drool going down her chin, chest heaving harder and harder until- The noise she lets out is similar to a sob, legs spasming as she cums hard and fast. She vaguely hears Mammon murmuring praises in her ear, ‘good girl’ ‘my human’ and ‘naughty thing’ mixing in her mind.

He slips his soaked hand from her shorts and grabs both of her thighs to hold them in place as he sits up on his knees, lining their hips up. Loud grunts fill her ears as he grinds against her core, making her feel his cock through his jeans. The flimsy material of her shorts barely hides her excitement, darkening as he pushes it against her wet slit.

She whines and squirms, trying to get away as the wet fabric rubs her sensitive flesh. Mammon grins and lets one leg go to tear apart her bottoms, swiftly undoing his own belt and unzipping his jeans. He hums as he pulls out his cock, stroking it for a moment before letting it rub over his sweetheart’s clit.

He goes back to grinding their hips together, fisting her hair in one hand and grabbing under her knee with the other. She goes to cover her mouth and muffle her moans, but Mammon is quick to dip down and slam their lips together while shoving his tongue into her mouth.

Tangling their tongues together, he swallows her sounds greedily while rutting faster. His hips pull back enough so the head of his dick catches her entrance and he briefly lets her leg go to help ease his dick inside her wet cunt. His mouth parts from hers, a deep and guttural noise erupting from his chest as he sinks balls deep.

“Haa~ Your pussy is gripping my cock so nicely.” He laughs and tugs her head back, locking their eyes together. “I can tell by that look on your face that you’re going to cum if I move. You know I won’t stop once I start, don’t you babygirl…” He purrs, flicking his tongue along her lips and sliding it past them.

She mumbles out something that sounds like his name, but he doesn’t hesitate. He drives his hips back and forward, hearing that sweet sound of wet skin slapping together. And just as he said, his naughty girl squeals and gasps against his mouth as the familiar spasm of her pussy flutters around his cock- but he’s far from done.

He doesn’t stop as her orgasm does, continuing to slap their hips together hard. The lewd expression that corrupts her face makes him moan loudly, pressing their foreheads against each other and stares into her eyes. He can almost imagine the hearts in them, like those porn pictures he’s seen.

His hands slide down and grab under her bottom, lifting her up slightly so he can find that one spot that will- MC lets out a scream, babbling incoherently as she trembles and squeezes her thighs around his hips.

Mammon’s breathing becomes rough and tilting more towards a growl, his nails digging into her flesh as he thrusts a few more times before pulling out and cumming rapidly onto her heaving stomach. Both of them are shaking aggressively, chests heaving and faces blissed out.

Their eyes meet, and MC lets a loopy smile appear on her face, flushed face relaxing as the trembling lessens. Mammon takes a few deep breaths, rubbing his thumbs over her twitching thighs and once he is sure she is fine, he stands to snag a discarded towel tossed onto the couch.

He carefully cleans the cum off her stomach and thighs, taking extra precaution with her sensitive spots between her legs. Once that was done, he rolls the towel up in both of their dirty clothing and tosses them into a basket, then crawls into bed beside MC.

She eagerly curls into his arms, humming when he strokes up and down her spine. They whisper to each other about random things, until both fall into silence and then eventually into a deep sleep. Tangled in each other's arms.

[morgana-ren]

My Little Omega

This piece was a birthday commission for the lovely @aizawascumslut​ ! Thank you so much and I really hope you enjoy it! I’m so so sorry it was a little bit late, life has b l o w n lately, but I did make it almost 3,000 words for you!

It is NSFT with A/B/O dynamics, and this is my first time taking a crack at any of that (just kidding NSFT is my specialty) but really, I’ve never done A/B/O before so hopefully I didn’t fuck that up too badly.

Shigaraki really wants to make your birthday as memorable as he can and give you a very special gift that only he can give you.

Shigaraki was never good with birthdays.

Growing up, a fuss was never made about his own, and he had very few people in his life he considered important enough to care. He would get the occasional ‘Happy birthday, young Tomura’ from Master, but even that waned as his age progressed. It was just another day to track his progress; how far he’d come and how much further he needed to go.

He knew that people on the outside had a very different idea. It was a day of celebration, where the person of honor had well wishes and last minute presents thrust into their lap, celebrating that they were born and every subsequent year they’ve been alive. The entire thing seemed asinine to him; what’s the point of cheering for your own existence for doing something as basic as simply being alive?

He didn’t understand it. It made no sense, and frankly, he didn’t care about it in the slightest.

At least until he met you.

You were the one person who he was happy was actually born, one of the few he didn’t hate or ignore entirely, and suddenly he began to grasp why others would throw parties and give gifts to the ones they appreciated and loved. Birthdays had meant nothing because the people around him meant nothing, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

Still, lifelong ignorance of the tradition had led him into a rather awkward situation.

He had no idea what to get you for yours.

It was coming up rapidly, and days fell off the calendar with his constant mental mantra of ‘I’ll deal with it later’, despite the fact that he could never come up with anything that he found to be worthy. Naturally, he had thought of the old standbys like flowers, or chocolate or some generic bullshit that the rest of the waking world uses when they’ve run out of original ideas, but it never felt right. His relationship to you was special. It deserved more than some half-assed and unimaginative throwaway token of love. If he was going to go to the trouble of gifting you something, he wanted it to mean something; both to him and to you.

Time drew on and he got precariously close to the deadline before something finally jumped out at him. It wasn’t until the morning of your birthday that he found the perfect gift to celebrate you and your presence in his life. It dawned on him as he was roused from his sleep earlier than normal by your clawing, needy fingers grasping at him, sweat beading slightly on your forehead. You were whimpering, still passed out but clearly in a state of discomfort. If your body language didn’t clue him in, the overwhelming scent that coats both your body and sheets and stirs his cock certainly did.

Your heat.

It was upon you.

Your sleepless eyes open and focus on him with blown out pupils, face crinkling in pain and realization as he drags himself off the bed. He looks at your cutely pathetic expression and hates how much it rouses him. The desire building at the base of his spine is already conflicting with his daily responsibilities. There was so much he had to tend to today, important things he needed to manage, but his every instinct screams at him to curl over you on the bed, press your legs deep into your chest and knot his little Omega until-

Oh.

And just like that, he knew. He knew exactly what he would give you.

Forcing his primal brain to ignore the irresistible scent you’re producing that’s cloying down his nostrils, he gives you a reluctant goodbye, poorly masked with irritation and stress. His tone is harsh and stern as he tells you to quit being so needy and he needs to go, he has stuff to do. He knows you can’t help it, but seeing you in this state is making it even harder for him to leave and focus on anything but breeding you. He needs to be able to focus and maintain his responsibilities and army, but hard doesn’t even begin to describe it when you slip from beneath the bed sheets, slick already coating the inside of your thighs and dampening the front of your sleep shorts. Fuck, he can smell you, perfect and ripe for breeding and remarking.

Still, he can’t let lust cloud his judgment right now, even though as your alpha, it’s deeply wired into his brain to mate and protect you. He knows he’s leaving you alone and vulnerable, possibly open to attack from another alpha despite his mark deeply etched into your neck. Anyone would be stupid to try, knowing he’d rip them apart with his bare hands, but he still hates the fact he has to leave you. It goes against his every instinct, each painful step of his body echoed by a desperate call of his name or the breathless sigh of ‘alpha’, your own submissive and primal needs overtaking your rational brain.

He’ll finish his business, and quickly. He needed to be here with his omega. It was her birthday, after all.

But as the day dragged on, minutes turn into hours and his own skin begins to itch and crawl. His head screaming and demanding that he return to you, muscles twitching in his legs as he almost pushes himself from the chair against his own will. Needless conversations and endless procession of things he could care less for are occupying his attention; attention that should be nowhere but you. He can practically smell you from across the base. Your scent mixed with his, palpable and tangy in the air. It’s distracting. His cock twitches and he can feel his rut coming.

He needs to get out. Now.

He needs to get to you.

Meeting be damned, he leaves mid sentence. No one is foolish enough to question.

Everyone knows the scent of an Alpha yearning for his mate, and even if they didn’t, they certainly knew the smell of an Omega in a fresh heat.

He practically kicks open the door to his apartments, finding you restlessly curled into a newly made nest of his blankets and sheets, burrowing deep into his scent. You’re whimpering and desperate, hunched over from the pain and head swimming with nothing but thoughts of his knot and his pups. Hypersensitive to his pungent smell already, your attentions are turned toward the door even before he manages to enter. Your slick still visible between your quivering thighs, clutching and trembling as you waste no time pleading for him, his name slurred and urgent on your lips.

“Please- Please… Shigaraki- Alpha!”

You crane your neck for him, already branded and scarred where his jagged teeth initially made contact with the muscle. You reek of his own scent entwined with yours, equally familiar and intoxicating. The way you weakly beg for him, hurting in a way that he and he alone can soothe drives him into a frenzy, every muscle twitching, eager to pounce on his pretty little Omega.

“You want me to take you, don’t you?  Needy little bitch in heat.”

He shrugs his coat off onto the floor, overtaken with lust and moving on pure instinct towards you. You can feel it, the raw, dominating scent practically radiating from him. Quickly, you gather onto your hands and knees and push your ass in the air, prostrating yourself before him. Your hips wiggle desperately, and he chuckles at your lack of shame, too blinded by need for him to find any sense of composure.

He likes it when you present yourself for him, all wet and urgent and craving his touch, and right now, there’s nothing you want more. You want him to fill you and make you whole, cum inside you again and again and give you what you need the most.

“You want my knot? Want me to fill you up with my cum and give you my pups?”

An incoherent cry escapes your throat as you practically fall to the floor, limbs scraping along the ground as you try to quell the pain in your body that’s spreading like fire throughout your limbs and becoming more and more unbearable. Tears bead in your eyes and he can tell it’s hurting you even more than he can truly perceive. His rut began less than an hour ago but already it’s building to unimaginable levels.

You’ve been such a good girl; So strong all day. You need him now, and he needs you, and he’s done waiting. All For One himself couldn’t claw him away from you. He’d rather die.

He inhales a deep breath, taking in your overwhelming scent and holding it in his lungs. Had he not marked you, every alpha within miles would be trekking here, crusading to claim you. You had always been so sweet, so overpowering in the saccharine smell that permeated off of you and onto everything around you.  

But you’re his.

His.

And he’ll kill anyone who even fucking dares to get near you. He’ll rip them to shreds and there will be nothing left but a puddle of gruel.

His own animalistic instincts take over, growling from the low of his throat as he threads his fingers through your hair and yanks you backwards.

“Mine. You’re mine.” He nibbles on your exposed throat, teasing you on top of the mark he’s already gifted you. His thick cock prods on your backside and the needy whine that emanates from your throat doesn’t escape him.

“For your birthday, I’m going to fill you with my cum and knot you, make your belly all swollen and perfect. I’m going to fill you with my pups. You want that, don’t you?”

You nod feverishly, unable to muster anything but an incoherent babble as your neck strains in his grip, your clumsy fingers fumbling with the waist of your sodden shorts. They stick to your soiled legs, refusing to slide down with anything but a frustrated yank. He chuckles at your desperation despite the last semblance of self-control he has being discarded with your ruined clothing.

“On your back. Now.”

You whimper at his authoritative voice, unable to disobey the commanding voice of your alpha. He releases your hair long enough for you to quickly flip yourself over and fall to the floor, spreading your legs open for him. Lithe fingers make quick work of the buttons on his pants and before long, he’s crawling half of the way on top of you with his boxers pulled down over the thick of his thighs.

“Good girl,” His palm crawls up your legs, stopping just short of where you need it most. Your body twitches and you wail, trying to wiggle into his touch. Slick pools on his hand as he drags the pads along the inside of your thigh, lips slacking slightly as he watches your thigh muscles twitch hungrily at his ministrations. He’s barely even touched you but you’re practically sobbing, tears running down your cheeks as you stammer out his name over and over. 

His cock jumps watching you worm around, body glistening with sweat and need, looking up at him through watery lashes and glazed eyes as if he’s the only thing in the world you’ll ever need. It’s enough to send him over the edge, pushing forward on his knees so he looms over you entirely. 

“You’re going to be a good little omega and take my cock now, right?” He taps your core with his hot, thick length. “You’re going to let me re-mark you and fill your belly with my pups?” “Yes, please-“ You nod enthusiastically, shimmying your lower body to try and entice him. “Please mate me, alpha!”

He aligns with your entrance, using the last bit of his strength to hold off ramming into you before he makes you beg. “My cute little bitch in heat. You want me to breed you? Knot you over and over and make your body take my seed?” “Yes!” He anchors his elbows beneath your knees, pressing your legs up into your chest, finally letting himself sink into you. The slick sound that echoes into your ears is just flat out embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he fills you up to the hilt. Finally, his chest comes flush with the back of your legs, bottoming out inside you. His lips brush against yours as he pecks you softly at first, but then more and more ravenous and greedy. He hisses between sloppy, open mouthed kisses, muttering and cursing into your own mouth.

“My omega! Mine, mine!” 

He pulls out only to thrust all the way back in, burying himself inside you once more before he begins his brutal rhythm, betraying just how needy he is for you as well. Your body bounces helplessly on his cock as you keen and cling to him for purchase, steadying yourself on his shoulders. 

You think he’s coming to devour you again but his lips find your marked neck, digging his teeth into the brand over and over again as he rocks powerfully into you until you’re certain that you have no scent left of your own. You don’t mind, you don’t care, you’ll stay in this home forever and raise his pups.

“Yours! Only yours!” 

He groans against your neck and withdraws, bringing his head up to you again. Beckoning him closer, you throw your arms around him and tighten your grip around his neck until he’s forehead to forehead with you. He’s drooling slightly, face turning red with exertion as he repeatedly cants his hips against your dripping pussy over and over again. He finds the wherewithal to kiss you, tongue slipping past your lips and exploring your mouth frantically. You can feel him try to say something but between the molding of your mouths and the pleasure sparking and coiling in your abdomen, you can’t make it out. 

Panting and heaving chests collide between the joining of slippery, sweaty bodies and the punishing pistoning of his hips bruises you as he practically fucks you into the floor. The loud wailing of your wanton moans and his animalistic growls echo off the bedroom walls. The slapping of flesh on flesh joins the cacophony and it all comes together to heighten your pleasure and stimulate you even further. Your beloved alpha, he’s going to fill you soon. He’s going to knot you and breed you over and over until you’re mothering his pups. 

“My good- ah- good little omega. You’re going to be such a great mother-“ His staccato thrusts become slightly more erratic, losing their rhythm ever so slightly, and if you could focus between the twitching of your cunt and the blinding orgasm growing in your gut, you could tell he’s getting close. “I-I can’t wait to watch your belly swell. Your tits will grow nice and fat with milk and- fuck!” 

His moans become breathier and higher pitched, heaving them into your ear. Your own release is nearing soon, every nudge of his pelvic bone against your clit taking you higher and higher to the top. Your pussy pulses with his filthy words, toes flexing and your fingers tensing in his hair, urging him forward. 

“Shigaraki, please-!” 

Your eyes meet for a brief second, his heavy scarlet ones staring glassy and blown out into yours. Your back arches off the floor and his teeth clamp down on the rounds of your neck where your mark is once more, sinking deep into the pliant flesh and claiming you a final time before you feel his cock twitch and with a drawn out and uneven howl, he empties himself inside you. 

With the warm sensation of his white, sticky cum filling your womb and his broken and breathless admissions of pleasure, you find yourself pushed over the edge as well. Your walls flutter and contract around him, squeezing and milking him as he scratches at the floor beneath you in a blinding and borderline overstimulated euphoria. Your entire body convulses and shakes beneath him, face contorting and uncontrolled sobs of bliss exhaling from your chest, slowly turning into fractured little wails and gasping.

When you finally come to, he’s releasing your legs from his hold and gently lowering them to the floor, still laying atop you as his knot plugs you and prevents the loads of cum from escaping. His tender finger brushes your cheek, kissing you softly with a few gentle pecks. You can feel your heat subside, if only temporarily, but you know it’s likely not going away. Heats are never so kind, and it’s only a matter of time until he has to leave again. The thought fills you with panic and your heart begins to race.

You look to him as if to say something, but he just presses his lips to yours once more.

“I know, little omega.” One of his large hands comes down to stroke your belly, feeling the pressure from the seed currently plugged deep into your womb while the other keeps stroking your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s my omega’s birthday, after all, and I want it to be special. I don’t care how long it takes.”

[obeywho-meduh]

Valentine’s Day with MammoNeru

Commissioned work for @otromeru

Thanks again for letting me write for your adorable OC and Mammon!

⚠️NSFW WARNING: SoftDomMammon, Penetration (vaginal), Toy Play, Bites

“..back..Neru..love..”

Neru groaned in her sleep, was that a dream? She stretched out her hand, feeling around the bed sheets next to her but upon not feeling him beside her, Neru rubbed her eyes and slowly opened them. “Mammon?”

Seeing the space in front of her was empty, she rolled over to see if he would be on the other side of her, however he didn't even seem to be in the room. She puffed out her cheek, where was he? The two of them were both excited for today so she figured he’d at least want to wake up with her, especially since he told her not to get him anything; which, of course, she still did.

Compared to the previous two Valentine’s Days, mornings were definitely much louder by the time she opened her eyes. The silence of this morning was unnerving. Neru stretched before getting up, thinking Mammon was probably getting something ready for her, like a surprise maybe, waiting for her outside his bedroom.

———————

“Morning Neru! Say hiiiiiiii to my fans!” As she walks into the dining room Asmo bombards her with his phone in hand to wave at his live feed.

“H-Hey!”

Asmo whispered in her ear, “And happy Valentine’s Day~”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“From our little human to you all! I’ll be back on later this evening for more fun! Bye bye~” Asmo winked then disconnected from his broadcast.

“Is he finally done?” Levi groaned as he glanced up from his game.

Neru looked around for Mammon at the table, but he wasn’t there either. Maybe... He’s in the kitchen with Beel?

“Oh you’re only moody because you haven’t gotten your fan letter from Ruri-chan for Valentine’s Day yet. It’s coming, it's still morning after all~” Asmo patted Levi’s shoulder as they sat down.

Levi pouted a bit before returning to his game. Neru sat down and looked down to see Belphie’s feet sticking out from under the table, so he’s sleeping. Cute. “Have you guys seen Mammon?”

“He’s not here, he was actually rather loud when he left this morning. It almost interrupted my reading.” Satan huffed as he walked in and proceeded to his seat. “I fully expected you to have been with him since it is Valentine’s Day.”

Asmo cooed and then leaned over the table, “Oho~ that is an interesting question, why aren’t you with Mammon, Neru? Not that we’re complaining because it’s always great to see your sweet face~”

'So, he left this morning'. “He told me not to do anything today and that was it.”

“Odd," Asmo clucked, half-interested in Neru's predicament, but also watching the comments and reactions pour in from his broadcast.

“Yeah it is.” Satan's soft hum followed, garnering the attention from the fifth-born.

Asmo chuckled as he sat back into his chair. “Aww are you agreeing with me Satan~”

Before either of them countered the other, Beel walked in with the breakfast, making three trips to and from. The whole length of the table is quickly filled with buffet-esque food. As Beel sits down, Lucifer comes in and pauses, taking in the sight of the excessive amount of food before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Beelzebub.. Did you make all the food we have in the kitchen?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” Beel tilted his head, stating matter-of-factly, looking at his eldest brother who then exhaled heavily before taking his seat as well.

“There won’t be leftovers, looks like delivery for dinner again.” Asmo stretched out his arms, “Not that I’ll be here but still~”

Neru watched as Beel pulled Belphie up and into his seat and ruffled his twin's hair before attempting to pass a plate to her with a mound of food. Belphie grunted, passed the plate to Neru, and lowered his head back down onto his pillow to fall back to sleep. As a thanks, Neru patted his head and began eating her breakfast along with the brothers.

————————

“Are you sure you don’t want to just come with me honey? He isn’t back yet and you deserve to have at least some fun on Valentine’s day.” Asmo rubbed her back as they walked down the hall to the front door.

“No, I’ll wait for Mammon. He must have something planned if he told me not to do anything.”

“Alrighty well you know where I’ll be and I’m just a text away~” Amso kissed her head and smiled before heading out the door.

Neru’s shoulders slumped a bit as she turned back to head to Mammon’s room. Valentine’s Day was already almost over and as she walked into his room, it’d never felt so empty. Clutching her necklace, she went and laid on his bed and sighed, “Where are you..” Rolling over in the sheets, she heard a loud bang coming from the hallway outside his door.

She sat up as further commotion continued to grow louder, seemingly getting closer. Getting up from his bed, Neru crept towards the door before it violently flung open,

"NERU!?” Blinking for a moment at his sudden entry, she took the second to look at Mammon, his face littered with scratches and him holding his hands behind his back. “Why ya in here?? Thought ya’d be in yer room??”

She didn’t know where to begin. Neru wanted to ask him, ‘where’d he been?, ‘did you forget what day it was?’, ‘I wanted to do so much with you but you told me to leave it to you…' Neru mimicked his stance, also putting her hands behind her back and looked up at him, smiling lightly, “I figured I’d wait in your room..”

It’s nice seeing that blush of his, but she still felt discouraged. Then Mammon used his foot to close the door, doing his best not to show what was behind his back, but also struggling to maintain what he’s holding. He gets down on his knee and shows his half-cocked smile, and looking up at her, he brings his hands around, “Sorry… Took longer than I thought, this one is pretty stubborn..”

Neru paused, she couldn’t believe what he'd held out to her. “Mammon.. Is this.. A baby crow?”

Mammon got up as he glared down at the bird, “Itssa Magpie. Smaller than a crow, but smart like one and protective.” It pecked at his hands making him let go before it landed on her shoulder and glared at Mammon. She could see his frustration, as he put his hands in his pockets and pouted, “But it’s also supposed ta know you’re mine!” Mammon reached out to quickly hug her, but the Magpie instantly responded by attempting to swoop at him.

Mammon ducked and it flapped around the room before perching on the second level’s railing, blatantly eyeing him.“I gave ya a lot of food ya know, it wasn't cheap! I should just turn ya into Beel’s next meal.”

It then attempted to swoop at him again, “Don’t hit Mammon!” She got in the path of it, and the bird quickly redirected itself and landed on her shoulder again, then nuzzled into her. Its feathers tickled her cheeks and she tittered a bit before lightly petting its underbelly and it cooed. “You’re pretty, but you have to get along with Mammon okay?”

It made an almost scoffing noise of its own, “Pretty! Pretty!” It nuzzled her again before it glided off her shoulder and flew back up, and landed on Mammon’s car and settled in on top of it.

“Still needs a name too..” He looked up at it and scoffed, “Tch.. rotten jerk.. Won’t be given ya anymore treats—” His words were interrupted as Neru embraced him, gripping onto his jacket as she buried her face in his shirt. “Ah-Ah-Neru?!” He looked down at her but couldn’t see her face, while his cheeks flushed over with red.

“Toto..” She mumbled through his shirt.

“Ha?”

“That’s their name..” Neru looked up at him with teary eyes, “N-Not rotten jerk..”

“O-Oi! Why ya cryin’?!” Mammon cupped her cheeks and started to wipe away her tears.

“I’m not crying!”

“Yeah ya are!”

“S-Shut up!”

He chuckled a bit then brought his head down to her and rubbed his nose against hers, “I know I’m late but Happy Valentine’s Day shortcake.”

Neru’s face went red as she sucked in her lip but then grabbed his collar and kissed him. He’d been gone all day, hadn’t said a word and then brought such an adorable and heartfelt gift. His hand held the base of her neck as the other wrapped around her torso as he returned her kiss, while slowly guiding her backwards up the steps to his bed.

As they both fall onto it, Mammon’s body between her legs. Neru breaks the kiss, taking a breath, “Mammon, I--”

He kissed her again, deeper as his tongue pushed its way between her teeth and started to play with hers. His body pushed against her before she patted his shoulders trying to push him back while his hand started to go up her shirt and he pulled away.

Neru panted as she looked up at his reddened face.

“I don’t think I can hold back doll, I’ve been thinkin’ bout ya all day. I took longer than I wanted and I’m not gonna let ya go for the rest of the night. ‘Specially not with how ya look right now.” He brought himself down and kissed her forehead as his fingers softly glided up and groped her breast, massaging it slowly. Neru whimpered, biting her lip as his brushed against her ear while he whispered, “Yer so fucking cute, ya wanna hear bout all the things I thought of doing with ya today?”

Feeling her body shiver she pushed him back from her, causing him to fall to her side but he still held her against him.

Clasping onto his wrists, she stopped his hands’ movements, “W-Wait a minute!”

Mammon pouted slightly then nipped her ear, “Best I can do is 10 seconds.” He moved his hand out from her shirt, “10..” His hand traced the top of her shorts before unbuttoning them while his fingers slipped under the fabric of her underwear. “5..”

“How are you at 5 already?!” She watched while he smirked and his digits moved to start to tease her, Neru inhaled sharply before she gripped his wrist harder, “Mammon!” Her eyes turned and locked with his and he hesitated before he withdrew his hand. “Thank you,” She smiled as he pouted, “I didn’t get to say Happy Valentine’s Day to you.” Neru wrapped her hands around his neck and rolled on top of him, their faces holding a faint pink color while they both took the moment to look at each other, “Happy Valentine’s Day my Great Mammon~” She pecked his lips, “Now let’s enjoy the r-rest of the night.” She pulled back and stuttered as Mammon’s hands wrapped around her waist and he smirked up at her.

“Ya really know how ta get me goin’ shortcake. Hope yer ready.”

——————

He felt as her apex convulsed against him, continuing his movements with her pinned to the wall. Neru’s legs clenched his sides, his fingertips were buried in her asscheeks as he thrusted inside her. Her moans echoed in the room mixing with Mammon panting as he peppered her chest with kisses and bite marks. “Yer gettin’ close again, my good girl.”

His hips bucked, hitting her deeper while stepping back from the wall and turning to the bed while holding his cock inside her. He laid her down then resumed his pace, his tongue traced her collarbone before creeping down to her nipple as he bit down gently and suckled it.

Her toes curled as her feet pushed up from the bed to allow him to go deeper, her eyes fluttered as she held his head to her chest. Lacing her fingers through his hair and her apex tightened around his member. “M-Mahh..mmonn!”

He gripped the sheets as he felt her orgasm, feeling her fingertips move from his head to his arms. “That’s..mmghh number three..” His thrusts slowed as he grinded pushing himself deeper inside her, “I think we.. f-fuck yer so tight.. should try a lil somethin’.” He rolls them over, getting her on top of him taking hold of her hand while he reaches over to the nightstand with the other.

Neru took the moment to breathe as she watched him rummage through the drawer. Looking back down at his body she slowly traced the lines of his abdominal muscles.

Before she had a chance to comprehend what he'd said, Mammon sat up to face her. “W...What?”

“So.. ya know Asmo had me this year for secret santa?”

She raised her eyebrow, remembering what Asmo had gotten him. “Yeah, he got you… a plushie ‘me.'"

“That.. wasn’t all.” Mammon wrapped an arm around her waist, grinning as he showed her his pointer finger, adorned with a small yellow bullet-shaped item. His grin widened as she heard a click and it began to vibrate.

Her lip quivered as her walls pulsated around him. “W..Was that it?” Knowing Asmo, she considered this just a tease, a glimpse into the 'lil somethin' Mammon wanted to try.

“Excited ain’t ya?” Mammon chuckled feeling her squeeze him, “There’s a few more toys but let’s start with this.” He ran the vibrator steadily up from her navel to her nipple, “I can’t wait ta see how fast I can make ya cum.” Changing their position, keeping himself inside her, he turned her around in his lap. His chest heaved against her back as his hands reached in front of her, “It’s got 10 levels.” He kissed down the back of her neck as he pinched her nipple between the vibrator and his finger, he rocked his hips against her.

The vibrations seemed more intense, her sensitivity heightened after how long they’d been going, her mind grew hazy as his hand worked its way down her before finally reaching her pearl. The intensity mildly increasing in sync with his thrusts, “Mmmaam~”

“Nnghh.. ya want me ta turn it up don’tcha?” He turned it down by one, “Ya want it more then ya gotta say it.”

Neru’s cheeks burned, her reservations were always easily torn down by him. “Please Mammon m-more.”

“Haaaa~ More what? Ya better with words than that.”

She whined as her hand moved down to meet his, trying to trigger it on her own he brushed away her hand.

“Whatcha tryin’ ta do? That’s not askin’,” Mammon bounced her in his lap, as her hands grip his thighs. “That’s not how we ask for things Neru.”

Panting she turned her head to the side to look at him, “S-Says the one who just t..takes..”

Mammon paused in his ministrations and then hugged her to him, “Ya caught me, like always. I’ll let ya get this one, just cause it’s Valentine’s Day.” Biting down on her shoulder as he turned up the level of the vibrator while leaning them forward letting it cover her clit.

Once the sound of their hips clapping became outdone by the vibrator, her legs shook as his member throbbed inside her, their moans resonating around them.

Neru tried to form words as she started to reach her climax, Mammon’s body huffed as his finger continued to play with her clit as his arm cradled her close as his cock drilled deeper. She threw her head back onto his shoulder, her body convulsed as they came together. Neru cried in euphoric pleasure as she muttered his name.

He kissed everywhere he could as he laid them down, reluctantly pulling himself out from her. They both pant as their bodies begin to relax into one another. “I think.. I need to sleep..”

“Suppose ya earned a break.”

“A break?”

“Mmm, its the weekend tomorrow so we gotta whole two more days ta celebrate.”

Neru groaned as she put out her lip.

“Alright alright, sleep. But I still haven’t had my fill of ya.”

She kissed his cheek, “My greedy boy.”

He chuckled as he pulled the blanket over them, “My little human.”

Her voice lowered as she yawned, “Oh yeah, I meant to ask, did you say something to me this morning?” Neru’s nuzzled her body back into him, his warmth radiating and comforts her as it always does.

“Hm? Mmm.. oh yeah, before I left I said, ‘I’ll be back later and..” He smiled as he kissed the back of her head, "I love you, Neru.’”

—————

—————

—————

Satan: What is that Neru?

Neru: *looks at Toto on her shoulder* This is Toto.

Satan: Wait.. So you can have a bird but I can’t have a cat??

Neru: Lucifer tried to take Toto but uh..

*Lucifer walks by with some feathers in his jacket missing*

[ladynoirelf]

Dark Crystal Tik-Tok challenge: Calling s/o the wrong name.

Deet to Rian:

Deet was writing up her midterm paper comparing Stonewood and Grottons weapons for her elective history class. Thanks to Rian and Ordon, Deet had tons of research material to work with thanks to Ordon’s collection and Rian’s expertise. Though she was having a bit of trouble remembering what a specific sword was used for. She also made a mental note to call up Amri and see if he could send her a picture of his family’s old bombs that they used. She called to her boyfriend:

“Amri! I-I mean Rian”!

“Amri”!?

Oh crud.

Rian walked out in robe, pink facial mask on and his hair tucked under a towel.

“Of all the names to call, you call Amri? Your EX”?!

“Im so sorry”.

“Amr-Does Amri sounds like Rian? D-Do I look like an egotistical grottan with a bad haircut who makes horrible fashion choices ”?

“Hey”!

“Oh don't defend him Deethra, short or long just pick man”!

Deet stifled the growing lump of a laugh in her throat. “He was on my mind, I meant to call your name-”.

“Why was he on your mind? Why are you thinking about your ex-boyfriend when you have all this”?! Rian circled his hand around himself.

“I need help with my paper”. Deet giggled, finding humor in her boyfriend’s reaction.

“No you know what, get an F”.

“Huh”?!

“Yeah, you want to hurt your boyfriend’s feelings, you get privileges taken away. No more help, no more access to the family weaponry, you want help you get Amri”. With a final humph and quick tightening of his robe, he left Deet alone cackling on the bed.

 Rian to Deet:

After a successful date, Deet recommended that they grab some burgers and fries from Wimpy. 

Deet was driving despite Rian’s gentle protest, but the young Grottan loved using the car since it took to roads so well compared to a Grottan vehicle that was more suited for the paved sirt of her hometown. The problem was that Deets turns were quite harsh and sharp as if she was still trying to trek through the caves roads.

Rian held on to the coat handle for dear life as Deet skidded the car into the parking lot, nearly knocking over one of the trashcans by the outdoor seatings.

“For the love of Thra! Mira you're gonna kill us”! Rian screeched just as Deet spiraled to park perfectly.

“Who”? Deet put the car in park, brows raised in question.

“Huh”?

“D-Did you just call me by your ex-girlfriend's name”?

Did he? He was too terrified for his life to even comprehend what he was saying.

“Did I”?

“Yeah, did my driving make you think of her”? Deet grinned leaning in close to a flustered Rian, who was clutching his thumping heart. 

“Probably, she drove crazy like you. Though she didn't have an excuse she just liked giving me a scare”.

“Awww, you’re still going to introduce me to her right? She sounds fun”. Grinned Deet, grabbing her purse from the back seat.

“Oh yeah, she’ll love you”. Rian breathed, shakingly getting out of the car. 

His legs were so wobbly Deet had to help him inside the restaurant.

 Brea to Kylan:

Brea was on her phone while Kylan was at the foot of the bed folding their laundry. 

As she scrolled through her phone, she got an email from her friendly ex, Rek’yr. Apparently, he had tickets to a museum benefactor gala. He was going to go with his plus one but apparently, they had to cancel. So Rek’yr decided to offer the two tickets for her and Kylan to use. Delighted by an evening out, Brea immediately accepted the offer.

“Rek’yr what are you doing on Friday”?

“...”

“...”

“A-Are you...Were you addressing me”?

Brea slowly looked up from her phone, mortified as she realized her error. Kylan looked at her, a mix of confusion and hurt on his face.

“... I am so sorry”.

“I-Its fine, i guess. I mean...It was a mistake right”?

“Yeah”. Brea’s lips quivered, tear bubbles forming in the corner of her eyes. Kylan cooed, pulling her into his arms he rubbed her back as she began to cry.

“Shhh, it's okay Brea, I know it was a mistake”.

“I-I-Im so sorry”. She wailed, clutching Kylan’s snotty shirt.

“There is nothing to be sorry for Princess”. Kylan sweetly assured, kissing her temple as she continued to cry in shame.

Completely forgetting about the tickets.

 Kylan to Brea:

As much as Kylan was getting used to Brea’s family members randomly coming over to their apartment, It was a hassle when one of her sisters just came over randomly. The latest ‘visitor’ was Brea’s second older sister, Tavra.  Who apparently stopped by to drop off some leftovers she thought he and Brea might like then left in a hurry. 

So when he heard the door open, he assumed it was Tavra coming back for something.

“Did you forget something Katavra”?

“Excuse me, Ka-who”?

Kylan looked from his book to his girlfriend's confused frown. Brea pushed her sunglasses over her eyes, hands on her hip and amber eyes narrowed.

“Who is Katavra”?

“W-Wha”?

“You heard me”. Brea sauntered over, her intimidating demeanor forcing Kylan to scramble to the side of the couch. “Who is Katavara”?

“Is this a trick question or are you having fun with me”?

“Kylan, do I look like I'm having fun with you”. Brea leaned over, caging Kylan with her petite body. “I'll ask again.Who.Is.Katavra”?

“...Your sister”. Kylan warily answered.

Brea blinked, irritation morphing into realization. Her mouth opened in an “oh”.

“You mean Tavra”?

“Did you forget your sister’s name”?

“Well I mean, no one calls her Katavra so...Yeah I forgot her name. Sorry larva”.

“For the love of Thra woman”.

 Mothria to Gurjin:

The best thing about being chosen to dance in the Sog community’s up-and-coming festival was that Mothria had an excuse to ditch Pop-Pa’s excruciating farmwork. To replace it with an excruciating hour of practice, though it's not all bad. It was nice to spend time with Naia, as both of them were partnered up to dance the part of the maiden. Although, having your ex-boyfriend as the head director can be quite awkward. Thankfully, Geal was very professional and only talked to her when needed.

Unfortunately, when Mothria got home after a long rehearsal her greeting was a little off.

“Geal I'm home, wanna get take out”?

“The FUCK you just call���?

Mothria stiffened as Gurjin stomped over to the foyer, arms crossed and eyes burning with anger.

“Did I call you Gael by accident”?

“Yeah, you did”.

“I messed up bad huh”?

“Mm-hm”.

“Couch tonight”?

“I'll get it set up for you”.

Mothria didn't move as Gurjin’s locs hit her snout as he swiftly turned to march to the linen closet.

“I love you”. She called.

“Love you too, but you're still on the couch tonight”.

 Gurjin to Mothria:

If there was one thing Gurjin liked doing, it was messing with Mothria when was in a pissed mood. Not to pissed that would kick him out the loft, but pissed enough to at least get kicked out of the room for thirty minutes to an hour.

And he cooked up the perfect way to agitate his love moth even more.

His ‘victim’ was sitting at the kitchen island on her phone probably venting to his twin. With natural born charm, Gurjin slid to Mothria’s side wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, Lovemoth, why so sad”?

“Oh, just dealing with family drama Gur-Gur”. She sighed, leaning into his touch “Not to be a brat but can you cuddle me later. We can watch whatever I just want snuggles”.

“Of course, Resha”.

Gurjin bursted out laughing as he was roughly shoved on his rump.

“I freaking hate you”! Mothria growled, stomping their shared bedroom after gently punching Gurjin below the belt.

“OOF”! Gurjin guffawed as he clutched his gentiles “M-Mothy what about cuddles and movies”? “You're banned from cuddles and movies! I'm going over to Naia’s”!

“Can I come”?

“NOOOOO, people who call me by ‘Resha’ don't get my love”!

The fuming Mothria stepped over her still laughing boyfriend who was now rolling on the floor. Grabbing her purse and keys.

“Love you”! Gurjin wheezed, tears in his eyes.

“Eat sog”! Screamed Mothria, slamming the apartment door. Leaving a chukaling Gurjin on his own for the next few hours.

[sideblogformindtrash]

CW: Deshumanization; conditioning; Death; Pet/slave whumpee; drugs mention; self-hatred; touching; 

for context: is a few years before events with Haru and others.

The pet was unnerving him. He wanted to do something. Orfeu tumbled their fingers on the table, but that wasn’t helping, so they clutched their arms instead. Arms far too thin, nails that easily dug onto the skin.

But people were already looking at him weird from the moment he stepped in. He had money today – he really had. He paid for his food, and even if he looked ragged and filthy, he still had the right to be there. Right…?

But of course, he was still the demon and he would always be a demon. A fairly ragged one right now. And people already thought he was weird so… So what did it matter if he made even more of a scene?

He used to enjoy the company of the ghosts, their stories and peaceful slow half-existence. They were always so mysterious, and quiet too… But not the pet ghosts, those were something else. Anyone who had suffered just… too much in life… and couldn’t face death.

And he only saw those once he came down the mountain, into the mundane world. The priests always told him about how corrupted and evil the people downhill where and… sometimes it really seemed like it was true.

There were no pets up on the mountain. Not alive, and not dead. Everyone was a slave of god, sure, but that was fair and kind and just. No man was slave to one another. He didn’t knew the pets even existed. And it made him nauseous when he found out. He wanted to run up the mountain again but… He could never go back. He belonged to the mundane world now.

…And here, there were pets, alive and dead. The pet was crying, pleading, desperately begging and trying to grab the attention of a man eating on a table, completely oblivious to the absurd suffering of the creature at its feet. Judging by the looks – the long, black clothes – it might be one of the trainers. The ghost was clinging so hard to the person who might just be the cause of their pain in the first place. But what else did they knew?

He sighed. Fuck it, he decided, gathering the courage to walk up to them. People were already looking at him weird anyway so what did he care?

He walked up to the trainer’s table and kneeled by the side of their chair, right in front of the flickering, colorful person, half-defined by lines of neon-displaced colors that shifted and changed. Just enough so that he could see them.

The trainer immediately glared at him. The man was obviously used to having people kneeling by them… but not a strange, ragged teenager, at a dinner. And he knew the trainer must have thought he was a stray or something like that. He spoke before the man could.

“Stop. Pet. Stop, you have to stop. Look at me.” He was harsh, sure, but he doubted he could get the pet’s attention otherwise, when they were so badly crying and wailing. Besides… it worked. “Yes, good. He can’t hear you. So stop. He can’t see you either. You need to stop.”

The trainer raised an eyebrow, now with a perfect ‘what the fuck’ look. He was about to speak again, so Orfeu quickly turned to him and smiled, pretty sure that seeing his perfectly sharp teeth would be enough to make the man quiet for a few more seconds.

“T-t-trainer T-To-dd- s-s-aid I-It h-had t-t-to be g-good…” The ghost sniffed,  managing to look at him “T-they won’t… Won’t t-t-talk e-even i-it is. I-is it b-being p-punished? C-can Sir t-talk to pet?”

“You aren’t being punished. They can’t see you, or hear you. They really can’t.”

“-W-wh-why?” they looked desperate. And Orfeu hated that question because the truth was painful and no lie would ever suffice.

“Because… Because you are dead” He bit his lip, letting the tiny points show trough.

“Kid, just what the fuck are you-“ the man said, on an annoyed voice.

“I’m helping you trainer Todd” they said, with a mocking tone on that last part, basically hissing at them “Unless you want to get haunted forever. You probably deserve it. But the poor ghost doesn’t”

“Wait… is that a runaway?” Someone asked to the trainer, who shrugged, picking up their phone to snap a picture.

“I think it’s just high!” a lady cut, shaking her head in disapproval.

“High on Christ, lady. I’m doing God’s work here.” He raised his hands up, just like at the sermons “Y’all with me? Singing hallelujah, hands to the air!”

“Th-tra-trainer is i-is a-angry” they lost the ghost’s attention, shit. They were staring at the man again, ready to go back to its babbling.

“Not at you” he cut quickly, so that the ghost wouldn���t get lost again “Look. You can’t do this forever. You can’t keep following them. Please. You are dead.”

They shook their head clutching their tiny hands against the trainer’s leg, incapable of letting go. The man must have felt a shiver, with the ghost touching them… without really touching. But they were cold. The dead were cold.

“H-h-how c-can y-you S-sir s-see pe-e-t i-if i-it’s dead…?” They asked, clinging so hard to the fucking bastard that hurt them… Just like Orfeu remembered doing so many times too. Who the fuck was he to judge?

“I made you a question! How do you know my name?” The trainer said with his hands into a fist. Yes, he definitely was thinking he was one of theirs. And that was a headache he didn’t want to deal with right now. He wondered if they had noticed the whip lines on his back. He looked with the deadliest expression he could manage.

“Because I’m an aberration of nature and god has cast a curse on me upon my birth” Answer worked for both questions –trainer and ghost-, but he said it a bit too harshly, then regretted it as the pet flinched. This almost was enough to send the colors that formed them into a prism.

Orfeu wanted to beat himself for it now the pet really doesn’t need to see him angry. He is the last person he can interact with and… He should at least be kind. He didn’t have to help, it wasn’t his problem but… he decided to do it so now it was his problem. They seemed to stabilize a little bit after a moment.

“See? He is high!” the lady repeated.

“…He looks sick” A worker from the store suggested, trying to de-escalate the situation.

“Please. You can’t cling to them forever. I know is scary but… But nothing can hurt you anymore.”

He offered a hand, a bit hesitantly. He hated hated hated being touched by the ghosts but… they needed the warmth. Those lost eyes carried only fear and loss and pain. They deserved a little bit of warmth, just this once.

The ghost hesitantly leaned forward… and let their hands touch, just slightly. Their eyes lit up as they felt… touch. Real, solid touch, like they hadn’t felt since… Who knows? They got a bit too excited and jumped on them, craving a hug… eyes absolutely glimmering with joy. Their colors stabilized so much they almost looked like a human again. Orfeu gasped, but tried to stay still and let them.

The touch wasn’t nearly as nice on his side. It was only half-real. And it was like ice. A shiver ran through his spine, color drained of his face and all his body feeling cold.

“What the hell? Is he having a stroke now?” noise of people around him. Someone threw a… table towel over his shoulder. He didn’t move. The trainer seemed to be on the phone.

“E-e-enough” he said, teeth clattering. The ghost backed down, and stared at him, horrified.

“D-did it… caused this?”  their eyes widened, they blinked in and out of reality “is…is it…really…?”

“…Is fine… Y-your suffering has ended. The worms have been fed. You can rest” he said, trying to keep his head in place, make sense of his own thoughts “You… you remember your name?”

“It… It has a n-number….006778… b-but n-name…” they looked down, at their hands, multicolored, multi-dimensioned “No… it-it doesn’t. I-it d-desn’t… have one”

They cast a terrified look to the trainer, who was somewhere on the back, still on the phone. There is people moving around them awkwardly too, discussing something. Someone seems to be making a video.

“Kid are you okay?” some employee was kneeling in front of them now, their image somewhat merging with that of the ghost.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here. I’ll help you, I promise” Orfeu says, clutching the table cloth to retrieve his warmth faster, as the worker frowns, confused “I can go and ask for your files. If you feel like you need this to… to go on.”

“..G-go…w—where?” they asked again, tear streaming down their ghostly face.

“Kid, you don’t look okay. You need some water?” the worker’s voice is less real than the voice of the ghost now, and it doesn’t matter.

The pet lifted their eyes, glimmering and fearful. The people around them were closing in, so despite having nearly no heat left… they grabbed the pet’s arm and pulled them up, before they became too un-real to be held.

They walked out of the store, despite protests of the people around him. He couldn’t force the pet to follow him but… Luckily they did. At least they wouldn’t spend years tied up to the asshole trainer-guy until the man died too… And then wander alone forever wondering when the punishment would end.

“…I… I don’t know” Orfeu admitted, frowning “…Back home I guess. Same place where…. Where you were before you were born.”

“D-d-darkness” the ghost whispered, now not even bothering to… walk, just floating behind them “t-t-that’s what… was…”

“…And rest. Isn’t… Isn’t that right?” Orfeu asked, uncertain. People on the street now being disturbed by the weird teenager talking to fucking nothing, drapped on an ugly table cloth, half-running away from the diner.

The ghost didn’t answer, letting their head hang low.

“T-they… T-t-the t-t-rai-ner w-was p-punishing it… i-it thinks” they said, after a while, as Orfeu led them into less populated streets “i-it… i-it…r-reme-member… a… n-needle a-and… p-pain…. A-a lot o-of … pain… i-it c-couldn’t… h-handle i-it…b-but t-trainer s-said i-it ha-had too…”

“…But you really couldn’t.”

“I-it… really couldn’t”

Orfeu looked over their shoulder wondering if someone had followed them. Apparently not… But looking back wasn’t a good think for an Orfeu to do, he reminded himself. Only forward.

“You… You know you are outside now? It’s… It’s no longer the white hallways”

“I-is it?” they clutched the hands to their chest, looking around… and seeing for the first time, it seemed “Oh!”

“See… It’s… It’s not so bad now, is it? You like the flowers?”

“T-they… are pretty…” they nodded then closed their eyes, letting their non-body fall down on the floor, sitting crossed-legged.

“It… It is tired” they said, stopping, in the middle of an empty street, looking at the sun, and the houses and the flowers “I… I am tired”

“…You… You can rest now” he stopped too, looking as the ghost’s shape was less and less visible, a glimpse of foreign color under sunlight “I’ll… I’ll find were you are and leave you flowers.”

“I… I think I will” they stared a little longer “C-can you hold me? Just another moment… please? If… If you are not too cold”

He nodded and opened his arms again, giving the poor ghost a sad smile, sitting on the floor with arms opened. The ghost leaned into him, a sad, but peaceful expression. Acceptance.

They slowly faded, this time, for real. The ghost was un-made, leaving Orfeu alone, shivering on an empty street, despite the blazing hot sun, wrapped on an ugly table cloth of a dinner they could probably never go back into.

tag: @whump-me-all-night-long​ @whumpzone​ @twistedcaretaker​ @cupcakes-and-pain​  @oofthatsgottahurt​ 

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] W O O Y O U N G ➣ baby daddy au

HE LOVES HIS FAMILY. BOTH OF THEM. (MAFIA WOO)

format: oneshot , wc: 1937 , tags: fluffy-angst

• “Shit man! Shit!”

• his eyes dart from between vehicles.

• blood pumping and heart racing.

• his fingers curl around the steering wheel and he’s looking for a way out.

• cornered to the back of an alley way with guns positioned on him?

• it’s not a good way for him to go out.

• really, how was he gonna get out of this one?

• “Fuck bro. It was nice working with you I guess.”

• Wooyoung hisses, gassing his pedal on neutral in attempt to scare off his attackers.

• “Get me out of here, Kang!”

• his friend sighs, “I physically can’t! You’ve got three walls and a target line straight at you in the only open direction. You’re the driver. Get yourself out of this one.”

• “Damnit Yeosang!”

• he hangs up before the blond could suffer.

• he’s looking and looking..

• really regrets taking up Hongjoong’s challenges now.

• “Hey Wooyoung.”

• his eyes flicker back at his dashboard when a familiar voice fills his ears.

• “Wait, Se. I’m leaving daddy a voicemail, sweetie.” he hears your sweet laugh and he thinks he’s already ascended into heaven. “Hey baby, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. No matter what this world throws at us, you love me too? I’m sorry if this is so sudden, honey, but I want to tell you that I miss you. And Seyoung misses you too! Come back home soon, okay? We’ll be waiting for you. Always. Bye Wooyoung, I love you soooo much!”

• his heart triples.

• engine roaring.

• smiling at the faces of the men ready to kill him for the suitcase in the back of his car.

• “Sorry bitches.” Wooyoung mutters shifting gears to drive. “But I’ve got plans with my daughter tomorrow night and I’m not missing that for the world.”

• easy.

• like how it was when he first asked you out.

• got you pregnant?

• married you after five months.

• easy.

• getting out of this conundrum too was so easy.

• “You lucky bastard.” Hongjoong chuckles after Wooyoung slides the suitcase into his hands. “You should’ve died.”

• Wooyoung’s seething with anger.

• blood boiling ready to, “Quit. I fucking quit. I’ve got a family, Joong. I can’t keep doing this shit.”

• Hongjoong’s greedy though.

• he can’t lose his best asset.

• not one of his bests.

• “You can’t just pack your old life up for your new one.” Hongjoong scoffs. “Shove that shit right back up your ass. You’re blood.”

• “Take it back.” Wooyoung sticks his wrist out. “Cut my damn hands off if you have to, hyung. I’ve got a daughter. I’ve got a wife.”

• “You’ve got a y/n.”

• Hongjoong’s relentless.

• you were far worse.

• what he thinks versus what he knows?

• versus what anyone knows honestly.

• as far as they know, you’re just a pretty girl that Wooyoung met at a bar one time.

• no.

• you’re far from that.

• “She’s the love of my goddamn life, you bastard.” Wooyoung takes his leader’s collar by the hand. “And if you even think about putting your filthy hands on my family, I’ll drive my car into yours.”

• he loves his boys.

• his first family.

• but he’s been offered another he just can’t refuse.

• “Hyung, I’m not bargaining my family’s lives.” Wooyoung gulps softening his violent grasp. “You wouldn’t do it for us.”

• see, Hongjoong’s got everything wrong.

• thinks you’re useless and just a pawn to ruin Wooyoung.

• but you were a black market thief.

• a hell of a good one too.

• the healthiest team behind your own body, there was no way you could ever get hurt.

• but no one knows you steal illegal goods and auction them in black market sales.

• you’re just the dark world’s masked angel.

• with your own secrets up your sleeve.

• “Hey y/n, you called?”

• of course you put a bug on your husband.

• how else are you gonna make sure he actually loves you and Seyoung?

• “Ddeonghwa~ can you do me a favor please?”

• Seonghwa sighs. “If this is for that Wooyoung guy again, no.”

• “Pleeeasseee.”

• “Last time I did this, I was forced into a daycare with five babies on my lap.” the 22 year old mob boss rubs at his temple. “I’m a born and raised assassin yet here I am doing a snake’s bidding.”

• “With all due respect, Park Seonghwa the great, you’re also Seyoung’s godfather.”

• “Fine.” Seonghwa defeatedly groans. “Even though I’m sure this has nothing to do with that little devil spawn.”

• “I want you to send Woo’s team an invitation. I think it’s time I introduce myself to my husband’s friends, don’t you think? Take him for me and my daughter only.”

• Seonghwa smiles behind the phone, handing a group of men their share after a job well done.

• “Wasn’t sending a fleet of armed men to your husband introduction enough?”

• playing with your daughter’s hair you smile. “See, but he didn’t know that was me. I just want to show Hongjoong a little compassion, that’s all. Not all sales are final, you know.”

• “Okay fine. I guess that can be arranged. Only for you, y/n. Anything for family.”

• no one can ever say no to you.

• you’ve got family everywhere you go.

• you pierce your ear with the last pearl, your daughter running towards the door.

• “Mommy! Mommy! Daddy’s home!”

• your heart skips like a high schooler,

• running over to him even if he seemed out of the mood.

• “Woo honey, is that you?”

• Wooyoung see’s the two of you and it’s like the world he lived in completely changed.

• kisses you tenderly before taking his excited daughter into his arms.

• “My girls.” he nuzzles his face playfully into Seyoung’s neck. “I missed you.”

• she giggles taking his finger into her small hands. “Daddy, me and mommy are going to a party! Do you think we look pretty?”

• Wooyoung didn’t notice at first.

• cause well—

• you’re always stunning to him.

• his daughter taking too much from you too.

• “Very.” his eyebrow shoots up also running a hand through your locks of hair. “What party is this, honey?”

• “A special one.” you tease kissing him on his lips. “Oh. By the way, there’s a letter for you in the kitchen. Come on, Seyoung. We’re gonna be late sweetie.”

• you take your daughter from your confused husband’s arms and kiss him again.

• “I love you.” you mumble against his lips. “No matter what the world throws at me and you.”

• Wooyoung slumps into your kiss hoping to have you longer but you’re already out the door.

• he’s confused.

• — always knows you’re in charge.

• but he’d like to know where you were going.

• he takes the envelope in the kitchen and opens it.

• Mr, Jung Wooyoung. You have been cordially invited to the guns auction hosted by Park Seonghwa in Junggu, Busan 112. Please attend as requested. allowance: 1 guest.

• he almost tears that shit right up.

• the great Park Seonghwa?

• sending formal invitations to his family house?

• this is much more than a stupid invite he thinks.

• he’s thinking Seonghwa’s lucky his wife and daughter are out for the night.

• suited up and ready to go, he does not hesitate to show up a bit guarded.

• but Hongjoong’s there.

• the whole gang.

• “What the fuck’s going on here?” he whispers at his boss. “You got one too?”

• “I don’t know. Yeosang’s been trying to figure it out but nothing. Seems pretty legit. Guns are on display and everything.”

• “But an invite sent to my own fucking house, hyung? I don’t think so.”

• Wooyoung picks up a couple faces.

• knows some familiar.

• some even coworkers that worked with you?

• now he’s confused.

• but Seonghwa steps up to the podium, dressy as ever, to clear up the last thoughts in his head.

• “Thank you all for gathering here this fine evening.” The black haired raven snoops the room. “Ah, Mr. Hongjoong. Thank you for coming! I see you’ve brought your friends too.”

• Hongjoong’s on a lower scale of the food chain.

• Seonghwa too strong to fight.

• so even Wooyoung stays quiet.

• “Well my assistant has gathered you all here today to announce her retirement! And of course I have to throw her a formal party. After all, she’s been only an asset to everyone here.”

• Hongjoong’s baffled.

• his gang don’t know what’s going on cause this obviously isn’t the gun show they’ve been invited to.

• Wooyoung doesn’t either.

• wait, people like him can retire?

• “Y/n, my dear. Come on out.”

• Hongjoong nearly chokes.

• Wooyoung still mesmerized by the sight of you approaching, legs bare at your dress’ slit.

• “Well fuck.”

• you take a second to glance at your husband’s impeccable reaction.

• “Thank you, Seonghwa. I’ve worked long and hard in this business and I wouldn’t have done it without you. But while you gave me a family, I made one for myself. I’m sure you all have met my husband. Jung Wooyoung.”

• Hongjoong stares at his own hitman with pure resentment.

• “Honey, can you come up here for a second?”

• he can never say no to you.

• pulls at his tie while walking over, taking you by the waist.

• “Y/n, baby, what’s all this?”

• “Our retirement.” you whisper softly. “After all, that suitcase from yesterday gives Hongjoong enough to allow you one too.”

• he smirks under your breath chuckling softly. “And Seyoung?”

• “With Sannie. They’re eating pie in the back.”

• the world can only throw so much at Wooyoung.

• the chances of a wife that knew his own world inside and out?

• the ball the world throws is very big.

• very.

• “Hongjoong, I hope you can accept my husband’s request for retirement? With high approval odds, of course.”

• Yeosang nudges at his boss. “That or you really gonna face the wrath of Jung Wooyoung and his wife. Say yes, you idiot!”

• “Y-yes.” Hongjoong stutters amongst these crowd. “Appeal approved?”

• “Good. Then let the party begin!”

• Seonghwa turns towards your husband with only happy eyes when the crowd gets occupied enough.

• “I’m sorry that this isn’t a solid reform to having the normal family you want. But you know you can’t just throw away your past lives for a new one.” Seonghwa shakes his hand with calm waters under the bridge. “And though our history as rivals hasn’t been great, y/n insists I make some adjustments to my relationships to protect the family I love.”

• Wooyoung worked for Hongjoong.

• you worked for Seonghwa.

• someone’s gotta make changes.

• sacrifices?

• “I’m willing to sacrifice anything for my family, Mr. Park. And if lining my blood with yours is in question, I’ll do it.”

• “People will still be out for the both of you.” Seonghwa reminds, Hongjoong quick to follow approaching from the side.

• “But we’ll be here to protect your family like we protect ours.”

• not once have you ever seen Seonghwa with the notorious Kim Hongjoong.

• but hell.

• the world’s got different types of things to throw, you guess.

• “And well, I’ve always wanted to be a god father so..”

• you smile up at Hongjoong tightening your hand with Wooyoung’s beside you.

• “How nice of us to give Seyoung 7 sinful godfathers.”

ps. very rough edit lol

@atinybitofau

[powerosewaterpuff]

so i was having mary and john grayson feels bc i always do ofc, and i decided well if i can’t find any other fics and headcanonns? imma make them myself hehe soo enjoy ! (heads up tho, it’s a l o t hehe)

Mary Grayson

-cannot cook, she is absolutely a w f u l at it but oh my god she loves watching john cook. she even follows him around, writing in a little journal about all the different recipes and steps, bc she is d e t e r m i n d to be able to make something other then cereal

-she always lets dick attempt to braid her hair, and even though it might come out looking bumpy and uneven, she couldn’t care less bc the smile on her sons face is priceless

- loves the summer, basking in the sun on a wide beach is her ideal happy place, because the winter reminds her a little too much of memories she wishes she could suppress

-she always sticks her tongue out just a bit when she’s focused on something, john still blushes when he sees that

-isn’t an avid reader, but she could watch johns facial expressions as he rereads the same twist in his favourite novel for the rest of her life

-she has a small array of ear piercings, which include three piercings on each lobe and upper lobe (the first she had received when she was a baby, and it had been her grandmothers idea), then she has a helix hoop piercing on each ear with a little stud underneath the hoop of the right ear. (Dick loves them, and always had a habit of fiddling with them even as a baby.)

-her laugh could be described as, (as courtesy of john grayson), “the sound of wind chimes billowing against the breeze, and then she starts snortin—Hey! It’s the truth, what do you want me to lie, mary?”

-dick most definitely inherited her eyelashes, long, dark and curled. she also tends to argue that he got her humour too, but john adamantly defends his honour as, “the most hilarious human being to walk the earth, and dick most definitely got my sense of humour, e x c u s e you, mariam.”

-she is infinitely glad that her and john have a very equal parenting system, without one person needing to be the primary disciplinarian as they work as a united front. (except when john and dick come inside the trailer, dragging in mounds of dirt from a flimsy soccer game. then? shes usually the disciplinary one then, shooing them to go take a shower and telling them that they needed to make sure every i n c h of dirt is out of the trailer before she’s done her afternoon stretches.)

-she’s a very bold and opinionated person, but stubbornly independent with a strong moral system and a fierce temper. she isn’t accustomed to asking for help, and is always expecting to be disappointed or let down. she’s always waiting for the catch to come into play, with john though? it never did

-the second dick gives her his puppy dog eyes, it’s over. she’ll give up the cookies she’s hidden in the top shelf, she’ll give him the biggest hug, she’ll practically do anything, and mary thinks john is the exact same.

-her gut instincts are scarily right, to the point where her best friend, the magicians assistant, is convinced she’s a psychic of some sort.

- the day she met john, she had heard about a young circus boy about her age coming to live with his great aunt in her neighborhood, but hadn’t really paid it any mind.

-it wasn’t until one neighbourhood party, that she locked eyes with a pair of vibrant blue eyes with a deeply rooted fire within them. it gave her a shock of adrenaline, and excitement, the same thing she felt when she was about to go on stage as a ballerina or about to face the uneven bars as a gymnast. it wasn’t a nervous bout of a adrenaline, it was a calming rush, one that filled her bones with a thrill beyond all compare. (Little did she know, the second john had locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, he had found what he was looking for.)

- mary was a natural born contortionist, with a flexibility she acquired from years of ballet as well as gymnastics. learning how to work the trapeze was a whole other thing though, as it was a little odd to adjust at first. she loved johns freedom and wild nature while soaring through the air though, a lot more then she loved the rigidness of her own form. (john disagreed vehemently, the way mary moved was like she was one with the air and the air was one with her, and he admits that was she an incredibly quick learner.)

-will always watch cartoons with dick, whether it be The Simpsons one evening or Tom & Jeremy the next.

-johns singing is her favourite thing ever, she always begs him to sing her to sleep and some nights, when john feels a deep rooted knot tug at his chest, mary is sweetly singing, “here comes the sun,” by the beatles in his ear

-her and johns go to song to get dick to sleep is, “little bird, little bird,” by elizabeth mitchell. she always changes the last bird, a whip-poor-well, to a robin bird. it’s a little offbeat but she thinks dick likes it. (dick loves it.)

-has an unparalleled amount of energy, and is always bursting with exuberance, the only one who can really challenge her on that is dick. both of them are absolute adrenaline junkies.

-has an insatiable love for period dramas, it is her absolutely guilty pleasure and will be found watching tapes of her favourite show in the living room at like 3am

-she loves the smell of burning wood and loves sitting outside of summer nights, taking in the sounds of the cicadas and the cold breeze.

-she is absolutely exasperated with her sons ability to make friends with injured woodland animals, it was adorable and absolutely darling to an extent, but oh my god if she had to handle one more skunk with a broken leg or a fox with its leg stuck to a wooden post, she would consider barricading the circus.

-(she loves buying matching clothing for her family and her, but what she loves the most is dressing john and dick up to match, she has a whole box filled with those pictures, which would be perfect blackmail material once dick was in his teens.)

John Grayson

-is one of the most laid back human beings, he always has a lazy smile and gentle mischief twinkling in his eyes. (but fuck with his family and see what happens, he dares you.)

-his eyes are practically identical to dicks, in every shape, way and form. but dicks have an unstoppable light in them, that his just don’t have but he’s so happy they do.

-loves to overspray his cologne just to irritate mary, her scrunched up nose his absolutely adorable. (but he still couldn’t get why she didn’t like that cologne, it was fucking amazing)

-curses like an absolute sailor, and mary isn’t any better but she’s far better at censoring herself. john has had to slap a hand around his mouth a few times to avoid having to explain the word, “shit,” to dick.

-christmas is his favourite time of the year without a doubt, and loves to be curled up on his worn couch with a novel in hand in front for a fire.

-is an avid prankster, but if you confront him about it, he’ll give you a trademarked Grayson smile, and tilt his head to the side questioningly.

-his laugh is like (as courtesy of mary grayson), “a crash of waves, refreshing and loud with a distinct clarity, and then he starts to w h e e z—Hey! it’s the truth! I thought you were against lying, huh?”

-he’s ticklish, and his brother along with his wife and son take advantage of that way too much.

-dick is legit attached to this mans hip 24/7, like if you see john strolling around the circus there is a 94% chance that dick is either riding on his shoulders or settled comfortably on his hip.

-the day he met mary, he had felt a little out of place and stilted at this neighbourhood party. but he sucked it in bc anything was better then going back to his home, so he took a shaky breathe and tried to converse with his great aunts friends, until the music started and he locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, and he had found exactly what he was a looking for. a fleeting purpose that could so easily slip between his finger tips but the thrill to latch onto it was expanding in his chest. and he realized that if he didn’t march right on over there and talk to this girl, he would’ve lost something he didn’t even knew he could lose.

- playing guitar had always been a little bit of a therapeutic thing, because even though he tried to be practicing their act every single minute of his day, there were times where he needed to sit under a tree with his son curled in his lap, his leather jacket draped on him. the love of his life and the afterlife curled up next to him, with his blistered fingers from dealing with ropes all day strumming the guitar.

-the biggest elvis presley, beatles and rat pack fan in the world. he also loves louis armstrong as well as nat king cole. (he grew up with this music as his first big introduction to north american music as well as culture.)

-open communication and emotions are a big thing for him, he never wants anything to be misinterpreted and he tries his hardest to make sure neither him nor mary ever go to sleep angry with one another. they argue a decent amount, bc they both have wild tempers (johns is a flame that’s difficult to light but once it does he’ll have a vicious tongue of a temper, and mary’s is a quick lighter that can be easily put out but for the time that it burns holy shit she’s scary,) but they always work things out by talking to one another at the dinner table.

-this man lives and breathes sarcasm, to the point where people never really know if he’s being sarcastic or not (mary does, and it annoys him to no end.)

-always playing with his hair, or he’s playing with mary’s or dick’s. it’s become a little of a nervous habit for him, but also a way to relax.

-was always insecure about how short and scrawny he was as a kid, even now once he’s filled into pure muscle and but still a little short compared to others. however, he uses his body to his advtange though, he can easily be the strong man of the act, and can easily balance both dick and mary with one hand. he’s immensely proud of that, and shows it off as much as he can.

-just to annoy mary, he’ll slowly lift his son up and they’ll give the exact same puppy dog eyes and pout. mary will legit do anything they want (he wasn’t ready for mary to come in one day, blinking her beautiful green eyes and pouting, with dick settled on her hip doing the exact same thing as they ask for chocolate pancakes one morning. it’s fair to say he sprinted out of bed and straight to the kitchen.)

-despises hunting for sport and guns, his father owned an array of hunting guns that were always proudly polished and hung on the walls of their trailer. john fucking hated it, and was about to blow a fuse when one of the circus members decided to take dick on a hunting trip without asking. (he held dick close that night as he cried bc he didn’t understand why they had shot the deer when it looked so happy.)

-is the absolutle biggest crybaby when it comes to Heidi (the book) and has rewatched Kiki’s Delivery Service with dick like 30 times? he cries every time ( “mARY SHES SO SAD OH MY GOD AND SHE DOESNT UNDERSTAND J I J I ANYMOREEEE.”) (“sEE GRANDFATHER DOES CARE AND THE SYMBOLISM MARY THE SYMBOLISM.”)

-loves looking up at the stars, and liked to memorize their names as well as patterns as a kid. he was overjoyed to share this with dick, as they lay down on the roof of their circus caravan, point out constellations and tell their stories (dick would always perch himself on the tallest skyscraper in gotham, on a clear summer evening, just to get a one glance at the stars at again before the smog rolls in. he swears he saw cassiopeia once, but maybe he was just wishing he did. )

-is equally stressed by dick’s unprecedented love of making friends with the most random things, is also stressed because his son is this tiny kid who keeps getting himself stuck in bushes then runs home, covered in thorns but still has the biggest smile. john is usually on first aid duty, and he just knows that his kid would run into the sun exploding with a bright smile plastered on his face.

[kvngjoong]

changbin + nsfw a-z

changbin and I are literally the same person, our personality type is the same, we like the same things, we are the same height, same blood type, born the SAME day, and now i’ve done this i’m fully convinced if we ever meet one another it will just be the spider man meme

A: Aftercare

i don’t think there would be much afterwards. he would probably just fall back on the pillow, eyes shut and mouth slightly open, his entire body working through what just happened between you. he’ll grow more affectionate the longer you’re together and probably become a tiny bit better with aftercare but for the most part, that’s on you buddy

B: Body part

he likes his chest/arms, cause he can make you look so small next to him without even trying, so for you it’s your waist because it’s kinda tiny and he wraps his arms around your waist makes him feel bigger again. he has a low key size kink because he feels kinda emasculated since he’s not that tall (sorry chanbinnie) and likes to feel bigger than you, at least in that sense

C: Cum

whilst he cums easily, a subsequent orgasm won’t be the easiest thing for him. he cums quite a bit more than average, something you might not have expected from him, and he tastes better than average too. it’s a joyful experience with changbin, which isn’t something that you can say for everyone

D: Dirty Secret

changbin can be very needy, as said before. he sometimes finds himself getting off to the smallest of things. like the one time he took this silk dress from your wardrobe that he thought looked really nice on you and used it to jerk off with. he never said anything about it again, he didn’t even act like he knew why it was mixed in with your washing when you openly asked why it was there since you hadn’t washed it. he feels bad for it, since he never told you, but you looked really nice in it and the material was nice to touch (and use)

E: Experience

a bit, but not too much. probably focused on other things his entire life and turned people down unintentionally for other things. he also seems like he is the type to not pick up on people’s signals. so there’s that

F: Favourite Position

he’s gonna smack your ass a few times so doggy, but if he’s sub then he likes it when you’re on top - cowgirl or something similar. likes it a bit kinkier so don’t expect missionary to come up very often unless your legs are over his shoulders and he’s got something your butt too

G: Goofy

he can take a joke and make one too. not everything has to be serious with him. may even pull out the aegyo from time to time and you guys start laughing so hard that you have to stop to calm down (and then not actually do anything, what the fuck changbin). if it was serious the whole time then it would just make him uncomfortable and the atmosphere between the two of you would be different. your relationship isn’t like that in general

H: Hair

he probably...makes...an...effort?? to shave but like sometimes he can’t be bothered so it’s hit and miss. he’s not that bothered by it but sometimes he wants to take care of himself so he’ll trim his hair or shave it but since he’s not bothered, he won’t be like i gotta do it every thursday or that’s it. not unless he has a special occasion (wink)

I: Intimacy

whilst it may not always seem completely intimate with him, it is - don’t worry. he sees sex as more than just fucking and will probably make that more obvious the longer that you’re together. he may not express his emotions all the time, but know that each time he pushes you against a wall, you’re the only one he wants to do it with and he’s doing it because he loves you

J: Jack Off

he does it a healthy amount, should there be more to it? will send you a video or two with a follow up message like ‘wish you were here 🥵🥺’ then adamantly deny he ever did it. likes to jack off in front of you too, having you tied up to the bed and needy to touch him but he does it himself, or have you control how he jerks off when you dom

K: Kink

there could literally just be a list but i’ll spare you that. he’s into a lot of the bdsm stuff, both giving and receiving - he likes bondage, organsm denial, a hint of sadism, biting, general dom/sub stuff, restrictions, the cliche things tbh. he likes experimenting and will occasionally order something in your name so you open it and find inside a spreader bar or a whip or something. he wants to explore that side of things, and would really like if you joined him

L: Location

literally, it could be anywhere. he’s down for it as long as it’s not public. the bathroom at a club, the hallway when you first come through your apartment door, the kitchen side, he’s gonna use it to get you off. somehow though, unless it’s a quickie, it will always end up in the bedroom. maybe because it’s easier in there - changbin gravitates to somewhere he can fall asleep naturally

M: Motivation

you really think he has to see a picture of you looking a little nsfw to get horny? nope. it could literally be a word that sets him off. he’ll be talking to you and you’ll say something and somewhere right at the back of his mind he’ll remember what you did at a random date and time and he’ll be like damn, wish that was happening right now. and he’s off. but revealing clothes (not completely, only slightly) will also get his attention

N: NO

the usual. not into anything like scat which is usual, probably isn’t into voyeurism either because he thinks it’s a bit weird. probably wouldn’t have any hard limits at the top of his head so it’s up to you to set them - he’s into most things, maybe a few soft limits, but he’s a kink little bitch so there’s no worries with him

O: Oral

it’s integral for him. sex wouldn’t be the same if he wasn’t spending at least a quarter of it with his hand in your hair, bobbing your head up and down on his dick, and another quarter with his lips sucking at your clit as he smirks because you obviously really enjoyed whatever he just did so he’s definitely going to do it again. he enjoys both giving and receiving, and when he’s domhe can take it to another level and do some bdsm stuff with it too (anyone wanted their clit bitten? call changbin)

P: Pace

faster and harder than you may have expected it. slow? changbin doesn’t know what that word means. he’s gonna make you wish you took him up on his offer or eating you out or something because when he fucks you it’s enough to literally make you cry. that album… reckless and relentless… it was written about changbin. he’s not afraid to leave a few marks here or there and give you some trouble walking the next day

Q: Quickie

just because they’re common with him doesn’t automatically mean it’s preference of his… changbin would want things to be slower sometimes. but life has to happen and he accepts that sometimes it’s the only thing you both can do. usually when it’s a quickie you’ll just be sucking his dick or he’ll be fingering you, but hey, it’s whatever - you both get off so what’s the problem?

R: Risk

he doesn’t mind an occasional possibility of someone catching you guys at it but he would prefer some time between the two of you and doesn’t like to rush things (unless the point is rushing things, then risk is part of it). he draws a line at public sex but an open space is fine for him, given that there still is a bit of privacy

S: Stamina

he can go for a while, but he usually doesn’t. since he struggles with cumming twice, he will stick to just one round and put as much effort into it as he can do. which means it’s gonna be a long, wild ride with him - and most of it won’t be him actually fucking you, he’s better with the whole foreplay bit

T: Toy

he actually doesn’t mind them!! at first he will be apprehensive to actually introduce them into any sexual activities (and will blush at the thought of it) but after you bring it up, he’s happy to suggest what toys he wants to buy and will spend some time looking through stuff with you online. he’s a bit fan of collars and wrist ties, for both you and him

U: Unfair

he’s a bit of a tease in general, but only beforehand. when you’re actually getting at it, changbin will never avoid trying to get you off. he wants to please you no matter whether that’s by actually pleasing you or showing you that he’s a good boy. it’s only during the night before he mentions that he's got a boner that he’s a tease, and it’s usually when he whispers things in your ear and keeps his hands on you for a little too long

V: Volume

whilst he isn’t afraid to make noises when he’s in that mood, he doesn’t usually make any unless he’s the sub. as before, he can do both dom and sub but when he does sub it’s a completely different side of him you might not have ever seen before (or expected). he’ll be a whining mess and begging you for more, moaning to no end to show you how good you are. if he’s dom then he’ll stick to a few groans and some dirty talk

W: Wild Card

this may not be a surprise, but changbin seems like he would really be into someone who was tatted and pierced. like he would get an immediate hard on over seeing you with a tattoo or a new piercing that you got done. it’s not even necessarily sexual ones, literally an ear piercing would make him go ooh and think it look hot. but that isn’t to say that he doesn’t appreciate if you did get a piercing done which was more nsfw - he would be itching to play with it as soon as he could

X: X-Ray

he’s shorter, but thicker. fills you up pretty well and can please you nonetheless so it’s pleasurable so you won’t have anything to complain about - anything he can’t do himself, he’ll make sure you get

Y: Yearning

a needy baby is a yearning baby. he always wants to do stuff and it’s guaranteed he will be down for something if you are. whilst he probably gets horny a lot he doesn’t actually need to do anything and can resist the temptation to distract you and get on with something else

Z: ZZZ

doesn’t usually fall asleep afterwards, but definitely on the more tired side afterwards. he will be kinda sleep laying next to you, probably have his head on your shoulder as he mumbles things that are slightly incoherent with his eyes mostly shut. he’ll wake up a bit as time goes on and be down to do whatever you want, but if you’re dragging him out of the bedroom he’ll be loosely holding your hand as you drag him to the kitchen or wherever

[hanawrites404]

Wynne's Diary - Nature with Muriel

"Muriel?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we go outside for a bit? I miss seeing nature from close" I requested him as I played with his raven hair, his head resting on my lap.

"Sure..........you can go out if you want to" He leaned onto my touch and shyly kissed my hand.

"I said 'we', Muriel. It means both of us. Along with our pets of course" I looked at him.

"I-I mean.......yes absolutely.........It surely has been a while since.........we visited the forest before we......you know" he blushed a slight pink.

"Before we got married, had a nice and long honeymoon and came back home being exhausted yet satisfied as fuck" I completed his sentence.

"Y-Yes" he blushed even more.

"So when is a better time than right now? The downpour must have ended so now we can enjoy the forest even more. A wet and misty atmosphere is something I really enjoy you know" I rubbed his bare chest.

"Yes....even I wanted to spend some time with you outside.........Inanna too wants to visit" Muriel told me.

"And so does Ichi" I eyed my turtle who was peacefully sleeping on Inanna at the corner.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go. I'm really anticipating to see the new flowers and baby plants which recently came up" I told him.

Muriel nodded and sat straight up from my lap. I stretched my legs a bit and got off the bed.

"Ichi come on, let's make you soak some sunlight" I picked him up and kept him on my head as usual.

"Inanna you too come with us. You could use a nice walk" I petted her and she happily obliged with me, licking my hand.

I chuckled and scratched her neck.

"Good girl. Go to Papa now, I'll join you soon"

Inanna obeyed me and went away. I then quickly wear my shoes.

Muriel was standing near the door waiting for me. As soon as I came close to him, he blushed, and then offered me his hand to hold onto while turning his head away from me.

My lips curved into a smile and I cupped his face with my hand and turned it towards me. His cheeks were dusted pink and he still wasn't looking at me.

I shook my head with a chuckle.

"Ichi, lift me up please"

Ichigo does so and he makes me float in the air. I then used this to my advantage and I flew up to Muriel's height and kissed his lips passionately.

I felt him gasp but then he moaned in the kiss and pulled me closer by my waist and head, kissing me back.

I then pulled away while panting softly. Muriel's cheeks were now red and he looked so goddamn cute from close that I couldn't help but peck his lips once more.

"Ready to go, Big Boy?" I teased him.

"D-Don't call me that" He blushed more and pouted.

"Alright fine" I got down and opened the door to welcome the nature outside with open arms.

I led out a sigh of relief when I felt some leftover raindrops falling on my skin and the sun shining above, showering its sunlight through the canopy of the forest.

The weather was pleasant and cosy. I was having fun outside walking on the wet ground, the earthy smell along with the scent of wet leaves hitting my nose.

"You like it here Ichi? The weather is quite nice today" I rubbed his head with my finger and I felt him licking it.

"I'm glad that you feel the same way. And actually thinking about you, the strawberry plant I grew nearby must have ripened its fruits. So why not check on them soon?"

Ichigo squeaked with delight and I giggled.

"Then we shall go and pick some of the juicy strawberries for our dear Ichigo" I rubbed his head once more.

"Oh my? Where is Muriel?" I had realised that I had forgotten about him as soon as I placed my foot outside the house. I turned to look for him and fortunately he was not that far. He was just feeding his chickens as usual.

I then noticed that one of the baby chicks separated itself from the flock and came running to me with its tiny feet, tweeting at me cutely.

I blushed at its adorable nature and picked it up in my hand. The chick made itself comfy in my hands and chirped again.

God this fluffy baby bird was already making my heart melt......

I petted its head gently carefully as to not squish its head with my fingers. The chick settled down on my hand and enjoyed the affection, a small smile forming on my lips.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Muriel staring at me. But as soon as our eyes met, he averted his gaze and coughed awkwardly.

I chuckled and shook my head. I then approached him with the chick and crouched down with him in front of the chickens.

"They sure have grown in number. I'm happy to have so many of them. The more, the merrier"

"Yeah" He replied.

"The baby chicks which recently hatched up are so so adorable. Each of them are little balls of sunshine" I beamed.

"They sure are" he too smiled a bit as he petted one of them.

"And talking about little balls of sunshine, I was thinking about something lately" I started.

I really wanted to talk to him about this but never got the courage to. Now was definitely not the best time but I really wanted to get it off my chest.

"What is it?" Muriel asked me back.

"W-What if......You know......I......Oh god how do I say this?" I placed my hand on my forehead from frustration.

"It's ok. Take your time Wynne. Don't rush yourself" Muriel assured and I smiled weakly at him.

"Thanks......" I sighed.

Maybe I was finally ready to tell him now.

"You see.....I........I was thinking about our children"

Muriel tensed up a bit and I was actually expecting him to be. Being a parent was no joke after all.

"O-Our children..........what about them?" He asked me, concern in his tone.

"I......I am scared a bit. I think I will mess up again like I did before" I was dissapointed in myself.

"W-What are you talking about? Sonia was born as a healthy child" Muriel defended.

"Nothing was wrong with Sonia. The fault was on me instead. You do remember how I passed out in the middle of the delivery right? Sonia was really lucky to come out safely otherwise she was going to die even if she had a good health condition" I explained.

"I-I see.......yes.....I.....I do remember you getting unconscious while you were giving birth. Not going to lie but......I was really worried about you at that time" Muriel replied.

"Yeah........... Which is why I'm concerned about the future. The fact that they are twins this time would make the situation even more difficult than the previous one. What if.......what if they die because of me?.........Both of them?" I got paranoid and felt my stomach drop from the anxiety.

"H-Hey! D-Don't...... Don't think of it like that. You are a strong woman. You will be able to handle this" he cupped my face and locked his emerald eyes with mine. Concern and worry reflecting in his gaze.

"I......I don't know Muriel. I am not so sure about myself"

"But I am"

"What?.......Why?" I looked up at him. How can he have so much faith on a weak and hopeless person like me?

"It's because I......I have seen you handle many tangled situations with ease...........You..........protected the city and..........saved the people with your immense bravery and strength.........It's the thing I really........admire in you"

He then placed his hand on my stomach.

The pain of giving birth is something which I might never be able to understand.........but I know that it must have been difficult for you because it was your first time...........so give yourself some time to relax and.......take a break if you want to and..........and everything will turn out to be fine............."

"And what if it does not work fine?" I asked him curiously.

"Then I will comfort you as best as I cam.......and also take care of you if anything wrong happens...............I promise you that I would always protect you Wynne because I..............I love you..........I love you very much".

It was my cheeks' turn to heat up from his confession as I replied.

"I.........I love you too Muriel. Thank you for reassuring me. I feel much better now" I sighed from relief and smiled at him.

He blushed a deep red and rubbed his neck while looking away.

"Of course. Don't mention it" he replied.

I then smiled wider and hugged him tight, burying my head in his chest. I felt his body tensing up a bit but soon he relaxed under my hug and wrapped his arms around me, returning the embrace.

He kept kissing my head and playing with my stands of hair which made me giggle everytime. He really liked running his thick fingers through my hair, you see. One of the reasons why I prefer his hair massaging a lot.

We stayed like this for a couple of minutes, until Muriel asked me something.

"U-Ummmm.....Wynne?"

"Yeah?"

"I.......I wanted to take you somewhere......D-Do you mind coming with me?" He asked timidly.

"Oh of course I would love to join you. Lead the way Muriel" I took his hand.

He flushed pink once more but started walking without saying anything else. Inanna stayed behind to look after the chickens and so did Ichigo as he slipped off my head and joined Inanna.

I was already bubbling with curiosity the whole time. Where was he really going to take me? If I remember correctly, I knew the major areas of the forest, so what place was he talking about which I haven't seen yet and never knew of?

We did not take much time to arrive as Muriel stopped after a couple of minutes walking, but for some reason he didn't let me look at the place as he placed his big hand over my eyes, shutting them close.

"Don't look......!!" He ordered me.

I was confused as to why was he doing so but then I shrugged and let him cover my eyes.

He then takes hold of both of my hands and guides me forward. The aura of this place was surely different from what I usually sensed when I visited the forest. It felt more magical, heavenly and utopian. In simple words it felt very unrealistic however was present right in front of my eyes.

Muriel uncovered my eyes after settling me down on a rock and dipping my feet into the cool water after removing my shoes. I shivered from the feeling of pleasantly cold water wetting my warm feet which made me open my eyes.

I was amazed to see a small pond filled with crystal blue gleaming water. Many types of herbs and shrubs growing along its borders. It was similar to the enchanted lake I used to read about in stories.

"Muriel I.......This is beauteous. Where did you find this place??" I asked him, tugging onto his pants desperately like an excited child.

"I found this place by myself when I was looking for herbs.........and I thought that you would like it so.............I had saved it for showing this to you after our honeymoon........" He told me.

"Oh God, Muriel you are such a sweetheart" I cupped his face and kissed him passionately. I could literally feel his cheeks burning but I kept kissing him affectionately, expressing all my love for him in the form of kisses.

Slowly I pulled away and kissed his forehead, then his nose and then his lips. I then looked at my work and found out that Muriel had literally turned into a bright red apple.

I chuckled at his cute expression and leaned my forehead onto his.

"I love you so much Muriel. I truly do" I pecked his lips one more time.

"Gods I.......I.......I love you too Wynne.......Please be by my side always.............I cannot live without you" He took both of my hands which were cupping his face and kissed them.

"Don't worry......I will always be with you. No matter whatever happens to me" I then embraced him close to my chest as I ran my fingers through his raven black hair.

The butterflies of different kinds surrounded both of us as we held one another close, feeling each other's warmth and succumbing into the comfort and relief.......

Nature surely was blessing both of us today.......Is it because she missed me? Or is she welcoming the future generation residing in my womb?...........

Or Maybe both? But only God knows that.

The end..........