#lil giggle twig

[pinkwright]

if u rlly wanna kiss me | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — bestfriend!shuri x bar singer!y/n

trope — best friends 2 lovers

inspo — ride the dragon by fka twigs

warnings — shuri’s touchy, dom!shuri, fingering (r!receiving), light choking but also not rlly choking, reader is easily embarrassed (a lil projecting yk), they’re best friends, shuri is a lil mean n condescending, verbal kink (?), humiliation kink (again projection my apologies), slight love kink lol, dirty talk but its sweet imo, n i think that’s it.

a/n — completely forgot about taglists but u can send me an ask to be on it ! for now i'm just tagging the inspos n some of my fav accs <3

⟢˚ @rxcently @saintwrld @shurismainbxtch @playgurlxoxo @verachii @dejaonline @mbakuetshurisprincess @ppawmpkin

ஜ

if you really wanna kiss me, kiss me quickly (do it quickly, do it, do it, do it quickly, do it, do it)

“thank you everyone”, you laugh. your voice rings through the area as the claps ring out, cheers echoing through your favourite bar to perform at. a cheeky smile is spreading across your cheeks and your heart is pumping with adrenaline.

your heart races as you make your way down the stairs, looking into the dark eyes of your best friend as she holds her hand out for you to grasp. “brilliant,” she firmly pulls you close. “as always, s’thandwa.” murmuring the words against the shell of your ear.

the blood rushes to your face, shielded by the depths of the tones of your skin as you flash her a quick shy smile and clear your throat, muttering her thanks under your breath. you let her walk you to your dressing room, exchanging greetings with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, as you take to trying to ignore shuri’s warm firm press on the skin of your lower back.

the soft neo-soul track dampens with the soft click of your dressing room door, and you go to gather your belongings, you stop to reapply your lip gloss and lock eyes with shuri in the mirror. she’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed across her torso, and you find she’s watching you like a cat does her prey.

“you’re so devastatingly gifted, you know that?” she sings in that low alluring voice of hers. the beating of your heart rings in your ears as her words settle into a tight ball in the depths of your stomach. you can hear yourself giggle nervously as you avert your eyes, muttering out a weak, “stop”, as you put your lip gloss and the last of your stuff in your bag.

shuri laughs softly with a smirk on her pretty lips, pushing off the door as you approach her, “you never could take a compliment.” the roll of your eyes prompts her to laugh louder as she opens the door for you to make your way to her car. the ignition rumbles into a start then she's reversing into the route to your apartment.

she hums softly, embarrassingly, to your own track and you take the opportunity to admire her. shuri’s and your relationship was hard to describe; while traditionally you were best friends – the pet names, the touches, and the way she spoke to you, not to mention the constant tension, all said something completely different. the logical part of you defined it as shuri’s interest in you but the sensing side of yourself denied that idea vehemently – there was just no way the queen of wakanda, the black panther, and quite frankly, the light of your life was in love with you.

“y/n, baby, you good?”

you snap out of your thoughts and find that you’re parked outside of your building. shuri’s dark eyes are intense as they roam over your seated figure and you smile softly, definitely not into you, “yeah, are you coming up tonight?” you blink at the insinuation in your words. opening the door to jump out and keeping it slightly ajar to hear her hum of agreement.

before you can get pulled into your thoughts, your loft apartment door is closing and you're throwing yourself on your couch with a deep sigh. shuri places herself right next to you, her hand sliding over your thigh as she guides your leg over hers. your foot falls between her man-spread legs and she essentially draws you right against her, inadvertently spreading your legs as your head lulls to rest in the dip of her neck. she sighs as she mindlessly traces patterns on your heated skin, and you try, desperately, to tame the fire growing under your skin.

the silence is filled with a tension you can feel with every expanse of your lungs, every beat of your heart, and every pump of blood through your veins but also carries that familiar comfort and calm that comes with being around shuri. her hand switches from brushing along your inner calf to the muscles of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as you subconsciously drop your legs open that much more – just enough for her to notice, surely. her hand pauses and you freeze at the chuckle that leaves her lips, moving into her form, as if you could disappear into her if you pressed close enough.

“something you want to say to me, y/n?”

your head draws further into her neck as you stammer out her name, your ribs feeling like cages to the heat overflowing within you, “i think you know.” your voice shakes as you hear her let out a click of disapproval.

“i can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.” her voice has the condescending lure of a siren disparaging her victim. you whimper, she's being so mean. slowly, you bring yourself to straddle her and drop your gaze to her lips to avoid that look in her eyes, “you’re acting dumb on purpose.” you whine out in utter humiliation.

her hands grip your waist to still your gyrating hips, pressing you into her lap, “i need to hear you say it, angel. can you do that for me?” her lips are brushing your cheekbone, and she's squeezing your skin.

your lips part, wanting to hear more, and feel more, “shuri, please… please i need you.” you're breathless. the words spill out as desperate gasps of air and you're embarassed by how wet that makes you. you felt like you couldn't breathe, the heated atmosphere deliciously suffocating.

you feel her smirk spread as her hands slip down your thighs and play with the hem of your skirt, she hums as one hand makes its way to exactly where you need her. the other wrapping around your neck to bring your gaze to hers, she hates when your eyes aren’t on hers. you exhale a stuttered breath as you look into the intensity of them, she looks like she wants to ruin you. your pussy clenches as your hips buck, every breath shared between the both of you fuelling the pool between your legs.

those slender fingers slip into your panties and immediately slide over your clit, and you're moaning out. shuri's bringing your lips right against her own, not kissing you, just holding you there — breathing air into and stealing the air from your lungs, simultaneously giving you life, and taking it away from you.

“that’s it, my pretty fucking baby, let me feel you.”

her voice is coaxing you towards the ocean of your release and guiding you to rock your hips in time with her fingers. you’re whimpering, pleading with her to give you more, and more – you want everything she has to give. she chuckles, that condescending lilt humiliating you but simultaneously adding to the tightening in your core, she slips a finger into your entrance and you’re crying out into the swell of her lips, “please, please, please… shuri”.

“tell me you love me, s'thandwa, and i'll take you there.”

she starts to circle the swell of your clit with the pad of her thumb, your eyes momentarily shut, and all you can see, hear, and breathe is her. the exchange of breath, the coo of her voice, and suddenly you're insatiable — you need her. if you were more coherent you would have heard the mirrored desperation laced in her tone, like she needed to hear that to continue living, needed you to fuel her existence.

the warmth from the humiliation of feeling so exposed pushes you further, as she gives you a second finger and presses right against your spot. your hips are stuttering as you wetly gasp out her name. “i know, i know angel, that’s my spot, isn’t it? right there hm? that’s where you need me?”

your form twitches at her words, your pussy clenching around her fingers, drawing her deeper into you, wanting her home, “i love you; i love you so much, please shuri, please.” you’re crying out. your hand is gripping the arm working your dripping pussy, your hips canting to the pretty melody of her thrusts, and her eyes are boring into yours as you beg her to bring you over. her grip around your throat tightens slightly, her thumb brushing up and down the tendon, as she curls her fingers to brush your spot, her spot, and you’re stilling.

“ndiphilele s'thandwa sam' (come for me, my love).”

then you’re sobbing out your orgasm, your body is shaking violently, feeling shuri’s sharp intake of breath against your lips as she works and talks you through it. you’re panting into her mouth, tears collecting on the lashes of your shut eyes as you try to breathe through the aftershocks. you feel shuri’s praises rather than hear them, her hands caressing the bare expanse of your ribs, “there you go. breathe for me, nkosazana, come back to me.”

when you come to, shuri’s gazing at you so deeply that you’re forced to slightly pull back and look down at her lips again, “you haven’t kissed me”, you whisper. you roll your lips in embarrassment when she just tilts her head and smirks. “stop," you drag the syllable out, "i literally told you i love you while i was coming on your fingers, nigga. and you still haven’t kissed me.” you whine as you slightly push her shoulder.

“i love you, y/n. ungumoya endiphefumelayo, ungulukhanyo lwam' (you are the air that I breathe, you are [the giver of] my sight). the sole bearer of my soul," she pauses. her hand rises to gently grip yours, and bring it to rest on the beating of her heart, "and look at me. i need you to know that above all of that, uluvuko wam', sthandwa (you are [the cause of] my resurrection, love).”

she looks at you seriously, unrelentingly, wanting her words to sink into the crevices of your skin to carve themselves within your psyche, and your eyes instantly fill with tears as you whisper her name with a tremble.

a squeeze of your waist and she’s leaning in as you shakily exhale and, in a moment, her lips are on yours, moving in synchronicity, melting over yours like the sun into the horizon. shuri’s kissing you like she wants to breathe you in, trapping you in place so you have no choice but to take and take everything she’s giving you.

she loves you.

do it quickly ‘fore the end of the song, waiting a minute for your love.

ஜ

[holdmytesseract]

Catch Me If You Can

Jotun!King!Loki x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: You and Loki play a little 'game' in the forests of Asgard.

Warnings: hide and seek? chasing? handcuffs? thirst, swear words, fluff, spice and very suggestive smut, of course - because it's for LGG ;)

Word Count: 2,2k

a/n: If I remeber correctly, it's @lokisgoodgirl 's birthday today. 😁 Therefore, I wrote a lil' something - and I know that you love this AU, so... Happiest of Birthdays, my wonderful, talented, beautiful friend! I love you! 🥰❤️

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @icytrickster17 @lokidbadguy @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @km-ffluv @jaidenhawke (Continuing in the comments)

Ice Flower Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

The wooden ground beneath your feet rustled and crunched; aching a bit underneath your weight. Your steps were precise. Almost calculated. No twig snapped or cracked - luckily. Every wrong step could give you away. You had to be fast and quiet.

A cakewalk.

You stopped a second to look up in the sky, which was almost impossible. High, thick trees shielded your view. But there was no doubt... It would get dark soon. Time was running out.

Your breath was laboured; left your lips in small clouds of smoke.

It got cold.

You didn't feel the coldness, though. Your body was heated, due to the running and high adrenaline level within your system. Hot blood pumped through your veins.

The sheer inaudible sound of a breaking twig caused your head to snap behind you.

Nothing. Yet.

You quickly found your focus again, adjusted the sword, which was strapped to your back and kept on running; quietly cursing underneath your breath. You had worked hard for this advantage - and now you had squandered it.

He was close. You could tell. You weren't stupid. And if you'd make one wrong step now or stop, you were sure that he'd catch you. Something you couldn't allow to happen.

As you were running, your brain worked hard to choose the right path - which wasn't easy. The forest was huge - and yet he had 'found' you that quick. As if you were a wounded animal; leaking blood in the ocean. And he was the shark, smelling the blood. You needed a plan. Right now.

The gears in your head started to turn and when you passed by an all too familiar glade, it fell like scales from your eyes. Of course! Why didn't I think earlier of this!

If you can't outrun him, let him outrun you.

You smirked; quickly making a sharp left turn.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings ahead and when you spotted the huge fir, which had been split by lightning, you smiled.

Exactly where I wanted to lure him.

You looked behind you for a moment; swearing that you saw something blue flash between the trees.

Got you.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Intentionally, you slowed your tempo; let him get closer - until you could practically feel his presence behind you.

You stopped at an old oak - exactly the one you had to stop; pretending to catch your breath. But your eyes kept on roaming the area around you. There was nothing. No one to be seen.

And then everything happened fast.

He literally came out of nowhere, big, blue, veiny hands winding themselves around your waist like a tendril, before bulging muscles tore you (gently) to the cold, moist mossy ground. You knew it was going to happen, but nevertheless you didn’t see it coming.

"Got you, my queen."

You shook your head; giggling. It wasn't quite easy to tame yourself at the sight of your husband looking so dashing in the slowly sinking sun - but somehow, you managed.

A dark velvet voice purred from above you.

Loki was hovering over your laying body. His hands pinned your wrists to the ground; holding them in a firm but not painful grip. Your legs were secured between his knees; powered by the warrior's strong legs. The leather of his loincloth strained against the king's thick thighs.

His abs clenched with every sharp breath he took; hot breath fanning against your face.

"You wish, my king. What do you dream about at night?"

"Mhh," you purred.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Loki's chest; a few strands of curly raven hair falling into his face. "Mostly you, darling... And the sinful sounds leaving those pretty lips whenever I worship the holy temple your body is."

You had to swallow hard, in order to not squirm or squeak up at his words. His charming, tempting words never failed to affect you - and you had a hard time trying to not let it show right now.

Now wasn't the right time to give in to his seductive words. Loki could be a mischievous scamp - and you knew exactly that he would use his silver-tongue to trick you into losing. But not today. Time to beat him at his own game.

You bit your lip and stared directly into his beautiful ruby eyes. "Tempting. As always..." You pulled him into a passionate kiss; lips moving against his, teeth clashing.

You kept on biting, nibbling and sucking on his lips, when you started to move. With your hands firmly tangled around his neck, you managed to stand up; forcing your husband to get on his feet as well. Loki's palms glided over your back to settle on your ass; squeezing the supple flesh and yanking your hips into his. You couldn't help the small moan which slipped past your opened lips; feeling Loki latch on your pulse point.

The Jotun king's eyes fluttered shut. A moan threatened to leave his throat, but you swallowed it whole by even depending the kiss.

Once Loki was completely lost in the little make out session, you acknowledged that the time had come for you to turn the tables.

Focus, Y/N, focus.

You brought his mouth back on yours, before you started to back him up. Only a few more steps...

"...but your silver-tongue won't save you this time, my king. You won't win this game."

Right after your words had left your lips - and Loki confused, he stepped inside the trap you had build decades ago. A rope slung itself around his ankles and brought the hunky warrior to his knees, before pulling him off the ground. The trap was reckless; didn't show any mercy and caused Loki to end up hanging upside down on a tree, above the ground; dangling helplessly back and forth.

While Loki yelped up in surprise, you just giggled and stepped closer. "Told you so, my love." You tapped the space between his strong pecs with your hand; feeling the dark, fine hair which grew there tickling your palm. Loki was way too stunned to answer something in that moment. He just stared at you, then at your hand and back.

"Tag, you're it!" You giggled with a wink and turned on your heels to run away.

All you heard was a loud groan of your husband, followed by his voice calling out to you. "Little minx! Just you wait until I have freed myself!"

It took Loki longer than you expected to free himself from the little trap you had lured him into. It gave you just enough time to complete the plan you had forged inside your head to walk victorious out of that little playful game of tag and hide and seek.

And now that the tables had turned, time was on your side. Not much longer and the sun would be replaced by the moon; announcing your victory.

Checking your surroundings one last time, you started to climb a big, high oak and settled on a strong branch; leaning against the stem. This tree was perfect to hide yourself in. Thick with leafs to keep you shielded from Loki's view but not thick enough to keep him shielded from your view. You smiled to yourself. The victory is mine.

Time passed - and was running out for Loki. While he made use of all his hunting and tracking abilities, you were literally enjoying yourself up in the tree; watching a few wild animals and listened to the bird's songs.

You had gained enough distance and left the perfect amount of clues for your husband to find you just when the sun was about to set.

He may be the best hunter and warrior of Jotunheim - but Asgard is my playground, you thought to yourself with a smirk, as you watched him approach you through your binocular.

You watched your husband's head snap into your direction; fierce ruby eyes scanning the area. He froze in all his movements for a moment; just listening and observing, before he started to walk straight towards the tree you were hiding in.

You prepared yourself for the final step of your plan; getting into position and loosening the rope attached to your belt.

When Loki was in earshot, you reached above yourself and broke a twig into two, gaining his attention. After all, you needed to make sure that he was walking past this oak.

He took the bait.

Smirking, you climbed into position and directed your gaze beneath you. The king had learned to move quietly as well, but nevertheless you could hear his heavy boots crushing the small twigs and leafs underneath their weight. After all, he was taller, stronger and bulkier than you.

His steps got closer and closer, until he was right underneath the branch you were sitting on - and that was your sign.

You jumped - and landed directly on your husband.

The force of your jump swept the Jotun king off his feet, causing him to land on his butt with a yelp for the second time today. Loki didn't hurt himself, but was way too shocked at what just happened to react. When his brain finally caught up, you had already tied the rope you carried with you around his wrists. Makeshift cuffs.

"Got you, my king," you said with a smile; copying his words. "Again, might I add." You winked at Loki; standing up.

The king sighed and shook his head. "What a tragedy... The best warrior of Jotunheim, defeated by a woman... But your victory is highly deserved. You always had the upper hand."

Loki stayed quite for a moment, before he gazed up at you and gave you a smouldering look, accompanied by a sly smirk. "I came here to win, but..." He inhaled deeply; licking his lips. "Losing to you, my darling wife is so much more fun..." He wiggled his eyebrows and lifted his cuffed hands.

He really likes this.

You giggled and bit your lip. "Uhh, does the powerful king of Jotunheim likes being cuffed?" A dark, sexy chuckle left Loki's lips, which almost caused your knees to buckle. "If it's by his queen, then yes." An idea formed suddenly in your mind at his words. You smiled.

"Be careful what you wish for, husband," you leaned down to whisper into Loki's ears. It sent a shiver down his spine. You could tell.

You reached for the loose end of the rope and tucked at it. "Stand up, prisoner. Time to bring you back where you belong to." You winked at your husband; telling him subtly to play along, if he wished to - and he did. Following your orders, he stood up. "Yes, my queen."

You led him through the Asgardian woods then, back to the palace. It was pitch-dark when you reached the majestic building. Without further ado, you brought him not to the dungeons, of course, but to your chambers...

As soon as the thick, wooden door fell shut behind you and him, your lips were on his; kissing Loki passionately. With one hand still wrapped tightly around the loose end of the rope and the other resting on the strong muscle of his right pectoral, you pushed him backwards; navigating your husband where you wanted him to be - on the bed. Loki let you, of course; was way too lost in the kiss - until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, causing him to fall back.

Ruby eyes stared up to you as he chuckled. "I see I am back where I belong..." Loki mirrored your words and climbed further onto the soft mattress; smiling smugly. "I like that. Do I get a reward now for all the efforts and exertions I had to endure on this little... chase?"

"A reward?" You asked; rounding the bed.

"Oh yes."

"Hmm..." You hummed in a thinking manner; climbing on the bed, too. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" The question had barely left your lips as your hand landed on his muscular thigh. Loki's eyes snapped to where your palm met his flesh. He grinned.

"Can't you tell, my queen?"

Loki's breath hitched; hips involuntarily bucking.

You knew, of course, exactly what he meant. The tight leather loincloth around his hips didn't leave much... space after all.

"Oh, I can tell, prisoner. It's quite obvious, but..." You let your hand glide upwards; ghosting shortly over the obvious evidence.

"I'd like to hear you say it," you purred.

You smiled; pushed him back on his back. "And what would you like as a reward?" "Untie my hands and I'll show you." Loki winked.

Loki took a deep breath; smirking. "Mhhh, a woman who knows what she wants... I like that, too." He adjusted himself on the bed; tried to seductively lay on his side - which wasn't easy being handcuffed.

"May I receive an reward for my fearless bravery?"

Biting your lip, you climbed on top of Loki; settling on his lap - which caused an almost obscene groan to leave his lips.

"No."

Your answer was short and strict and before Loki could blink or even react, he found himself cuffed to the big, comfortable bed; wrists strapped to the bedpost.

"You see, prisoner... I won this little game. Fair and square. So, this..." You gestured towards him, then placed your pointer finger on the skin between his pecs; slowly running it down his chest and abs. "This is my reward. Tonight, I am in control."

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ SUPEERR sorry for the late update! i went through a hellish week but I really wanted to go on with the story 😭 i wrote down the setting so the ending’s kinda set in stone, so buckle your seatbelts and prepare yourself for a ride.

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker [CAN THE OTHERS REDO THEIR NAMES I CANT FIND YALLS ACCOUNTS IM SCARED OF TAGGING THE WRONG PEOPLE IM SO SO SORRY IM NEW TO THIS]

⚠️ 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⚠️ PLOTTTTT. This chapter onward will mark the beginning of heavy themes. There will be mentions of death, manipulation, discussion of political issues, and profane language. Discretion is advised.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

And when the rain stopped, you two were back to the same scene, but with your hand on his sleeve.

You and Miles walked down the same Brooklyn road, your fingers pinching the corner of his jacket while he led your bike on with his free hand. Your shoes crunched against the autumn leaves, each step like a snapping twig, marking your each step.

Even at its darkest, Brooklyn never slept along with its sisters. The bright windows, the music playing from the underground bars, and the other couples maneuvering through the night like mice on the run. Still, everything seemed lazier and slower— and you didn’t know if it was just Miles or the atmosphere in general. Miles rambled on and on about his childhood show, going on about how his seven-year-old-self thought olives would be the greatest thing to snack on after seeing Jerry pine after it so much, and how after plopping it into his mouth changed the entire course of his life.

“Ever since then, I never ate another goddamn olive for the rest of my damn life.”

You laugh at his dramatics, at the way he shakes his head, but despite the dramatic way he moved, Miles never shook the arm your hand was clinging onto— you needed it more than his story-telling.

“I mean, olives do look like grapes, so I kinda understand the confusion.”

“That’s the biggest foul, really: that olives look like grapes.”

“It is kinda one hell of a foul. Mine’s the fact that raisins also look like grapes.”

And the image pops in his mind like a bubble. “… Jesus. Why the hell does everything look like grapes?”

“Ionno.” You shrug. “Same thing can be said about your head, though.”

He feigns offense, parting his mouth into an ‘o’ while leaning back. “Stop projecting your grapefruit-lookin’ ass.” Miles shoots back, earning a sharp swat from you. “Fucker, you’re the one built like a bamboo shoot.”

"You're the one talkin taller than your own height, you lil, dehydrated, un-sunned potted plant lookin' ass."

You gawk at the full-blown insult, earning nothing but a guffaw from Miles who shook his head.

"I'm just kidding, my girl, m'just kidding." He swiftly pulls you closer, pulling you in with his hand over your shoulders. "You know I'm just playin' with you, ma, you're the prettiest in my eyes." The way he sweetly coos tugs at your heartstrings, your tiny giggles muffled while he sways you around.

"Apology accepted," You snicker. "Riley Freeman.”

“… Future child bride.”

“Future enemy of the state.”

“Thas why you daddy don’t want’chu.”

“At least I got a daddy.”

And the squabble just went on and on.

Tiny jabs of flirting disguised as well-crafted insults, and subtle touches concealed as playful punches. The two of you were crazy in the sort of way that only the two of you can drive each other insane.

Ironically, you loved these sorts of moments with him— just two people simpering down the streets in good ol' New York. But in the back of your mind, there was still that lingering guilt that endlessly knocked against your psyche, begging you to tell the truth.

But the truth wasn’t the hotel, or the life you were living. The truth was a decaying matter locked in a finely decorated cage, where everyone could smell the stench, but they instead choose to ignore it all for the sake of preserving peace.

Miles would never do that. He wouldn’t turn around and shrug his shoulders just for the sake of preserving whatever peace or comfort New York had— he would absolutely fucking riot to disturb the comfortable.

But the thing was, all you had left was that peace, and the slightest piece of your dignity scrapped up like leftovers of a meal.

“Hey, ma.” Miles snaps you out of your thoughts, earning nothing but a small hum from you.

“… Do you know anythin ‘bout about parallel universes?”

You pause for a moment, processing that question like a printer— eyes slowly traveling to meet his as if to confirm if what you heard was correct. Miles shifts a bit, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“.. What?” You airily query, brows knitted together in confusion. He laughs at the way your mouth hung like a lost toddler. “Parallel universes? Ionno, I just heard ‘bout it from my dorm mate.” His fingers reach to scratch the nape of his neck. “Something ‘bout there being another version of us in another universe n shit like that— slight changes, maybe?”

“.. I’ve heard about it from my Physics professor, but I never really delved much into it.”

“Well, I’ve been thinkin a lot ‘bout it.”

Your nose scrunches. “But.. Why though?”

“Well,” The two of you start walking again, with the pace much slower. “It made me wonder if there’s another us in another universe.. Doin’ shit like this.” His hand gestured at the both of you, soon dropping by your side. “You n me, just walking and talking. I wonder if we also like each other in another universe.”

It sounded cheesy. Being lovers in more than one world.

But you liked the sound of it. Lovers.

“I probably hate you in every other universe.” You teasingly laughed while lightly pushing him away.

“Well, maybe there’s somethin’ special ‘bout me in this universe that made you fall for me.” He smoothly chimed, leaning a bit closer. You try to hold back a smile, but it still seeped in the corners of your lips.

“Ionno ‘bout that.”

His grin only widens. “You know you love me, ma.”

You stare a long stare.

I do.

“Shut up.” You mumble, pacing faster when Miles reaches out to hold your hand. “Maaaaaaaa.”

“What do you want, Miles?”

And he looks at you with those eyes of his. The kind that dragged you into this whole mess, the kind that made you crawling back in four days. Subtly, he leans down to your level, eyes in line with your own. Only then, so gently, he presses his lips against yours for a second.

"I wonder if that happens in every other universe too?"

You blink at the act, somewhat speechless.

“I’d be missin out on a lot if I don’t get to kiss you like this in every universe.”

You try to snap back at him, but you could no longer find anymore ammo to fire. Miles sets your brother’s bike aside, kicking the stand down just to take both of your hands— placing them over his shoulders.

"How about you? What do you think?" He suddenly asks. "Who would we be to each other in another world?"

There were a million thoughts blundering your mind, a sort of disarray you weren't used to— the thing was, you didn’t even know who the two of you were supposed to be to each other in this world. Everything seemed all blurry in the future, and you couldn’t even think of one for yourself.

But for once, you couldn’t help but think of what could be.

“Would you rather hear me romanticize, or would you rather hear me be realistic?” You asked of him.

Miles took a moment to think. “I think it’d be nice to hear what’chu think is romantic.”

You leaned in a bit towards his side. “You really think so? What if I end up soundin’ childish?”

Placing a gentle hand over your arm, he simply replied. “You’re young, ma. It’s okay to be a child.”

Turning more towards him, you begin to flit your fingers up toward his jaw. “Then…” Your eyes trailed away from his. “In another universe, we’re just us.” You mumble, your fingers tickling at the back of his neck.

“In another universe, I’ll be doing painting commissions at random shops to save up for Christmas. I’ll be working at that café we saw. You’ll be there, and we’ll meet up and I’ll be the one to ask for your number.” Your hand runs down his sleeve just to intertwine your fingers with his.

“What do you mean you? You can’t do nuthin, I’ll be the one asking for your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “It’s another world, Miles. We ain’t entirely sure if we’re going to be the same people.”

“You’ve got a point,” He piques. “But—“

“Let me finish.” You sigh, and immediately, he snaps his jaw shut. “… I don’t have to escape every night just to see you, nor do we have to meet exclusively every Friday and Saturday. We’ll see each other everyday, and you’ll go to my house— and my mom will make us food while going on and on about us dating, and my dad’s going to scold me to keep the door open just so he can keep an eye out on you.”

Suddenly, all the fantasies you’ve mentally illustrated for yourself every night to dwell upon came running out of your mouth.

“Maybe, I’ll have a few childhood scars, and I’ll paint my nails any color I like— I’ll get a new set monthly, and I’ll let you choose the color. We’ll walk to school together, and I’ll never miss any of your basketball games…. We’ll just be,”

Normal.

“Us.”

Realizing your rambling, you shift away a bit, somewhat embarrassed of all the stuff you’d blurted out. It’s like you could sense him trying to piece together what you’d just said. With a cautious hand, he wraps it around your waist before nuzzling his head into your hair.

"What's stopping us from being like that in this world too?"

You hold onto him a little tighter.

“… It’s getting colder these days, huh?”

Noticing your hesitance to break open, Miles decides to simply play along for now. “Yeah, it’s getting colder, ma, so you,” He softly pulls away, placing both of his hands over your cheeks. “You should start taking care of yourself or else you might start a whole new bubonic plague.”

“Why the fuck do you keep linking that to me?”

“Cause you’re a host of viral plague.”

“I’m not even sickly, damn it.” You say, while feeling an itch in your nose. “You’re just making shit up at thi— hACHOO!” You sneeze down to the ground, narrowly missing your sleeve. Miles takes a step back, shaking his head with a smile on his lips.

“… Maybe I should be a plague doctor for halloween, and you should be a medieval patient dying of the bubonic plague.”

He pictures you with comically large bags beneath your eyes, frail lips, and a white dress with its frock lost in the wind— and he’ll stand beside you, with the large black beak of the mask poking at your hair, with a large black cape flying behind his back.

“… Isn’t halloween this Saturday?” You think back with a frown. “I haven’t celebrated that in a long, long time.”

That was a lie. You’ve never celebrated halloween before.

“Huh?” He snaps in shock. “You don’t celebrate halloween?”

He watches you shrug. “It’s a kid’s thing.” Was what your Father always told you, in the same tone you were currently speaking.

“Awe man,” Miles mumbles. “… I thought you got the hint that we’re going trick or treating for our date.”

“Trick or treating?” That too, you also haven’t done. “I-Isn’t it dangerous? My mother said people would poison the candy and plant shit inside the chocolates.”

“What?” At that point, Miles was piecing together an image of your family with each passing story. “That almost never happens— who can afford poisoning children in this economy? Shit, might as well just use it on yourself with all the bills you have to pay.”

And there it goes again. The economy.

And it strikes you a bit. That guilt of being brought up pristinely uncomplicated. Privileged, as most would call it. Your problems were rather personal, never financial. Growing up, you’d been living lavishly in the comforts of your manor, never having to worry about tomorrow or next month or next year.

And, admittedly, it was unfair.

“… Miles, can I, um, discuss something with you?” You silently query, unconsciously matching your pace along with his. Miles only hums.

“Look. I don’t mean to get political, and I don’t want to sound privileged— but honestly speaking, I kinda am, and I can definitely recognize it.” You confess. “I wasn’t.. Raised in a home where we had to be conscious about money. My parents are well-off, in the way I’m sheltered as hell, but I’m not blind. I can see the city crumbling apart. My brother says that it’s all because people don’t wanna work anymore, and I never understood why.”

He raised his brows. “That’s… Well, I’m not gonna judge your brother from that alone,” Miles states, keeping in mind that he still wants to appeal to your family. “But honestly, that whole view is kinda whack. Listen, nena,” He takes a deep breath. “Imagine working your ass off nine to five— and you’re still getting paid the minimum wage. Rent is due, groceries are expensive, and you’re tired as hell, but it’s all not enough. You can’t even spend any of the money on yourself.”

“Well,” You pique. “… My father said that if the people would just stop buying irrelevant things and save up, they’d be able to live.”

Miles grimaces. “Do only the rich deserve happiness?”

Your head tilts. “Don’t they say that money can’t buy you happiness?”

He shook his head. “They say that because they’ve got the money.”

He spots the confused look on your face. Relatively, he takes your hand and further conveys. “Well, as you said, it’s a capitalist world. Only the wealthy say that because they don’t know what it’s like to be down here,” His hand points below. “In the slums, starving to damn death. Money can fix that shit. Money can fix all this, but they choose not to.”

Your mouth hung open.

“… I never thought of it that way.”

“Mhm.”

“My whole life, my parents have always chalked it up to hard work— but the city never sleeps, so it’s impossible that nobody here ain’t doing nothing.”

And it all processes through you. “Huh, it’s all.. New to me.” Naturally, your hand drags up to pluck the skin off your lips. “I never delved into that sort of issue before. My parents have always been kind of.. Sort of,”

“.. Elitist?”

“I was going to say stuck-up, but that makes so much more sense.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda seein’ it, not gonna lie.” His clicks his tongue. “Look, ion really talk ‘bout this sort of thing much, but I like discussing these sorts of things with you— ‘cuz it’s interesting seeing how open you are to these kinds of topics, even if you were raised like that.”

You turn your head to look at Miles, and your brow twitches ever so slightly at the pang of anxiety drumming at your chest.

“We’re… Really the opposites of each other, huh?”

He hums. “But in a way, we’re still kinda similar.”

“How so?” You ask, a bit dubious of the remark. You were all this, and he was all that. You doubted any sort of similarities you two had, but Miles holds your shaking hand.

“If you and I were solely made to be opposites, we’d be nemeses by now.”

And you ponder.

How long would it take before you start hating me?

How long would it take before I stop seeing that loving gaze of yours?

How long would it take before you discover the truth?

From afar, you could already spot the Gristedes building, as though it were the portal parting your world from his. You eventually take the bike back to yourself, dragging it by the handles. As the edge of the block materializes, you turn to look at the boy behind you.

“I’m gonna have to go ride back now.”

And when he draws closer, a flick of your mind takes the image of Miles’ exhausted face, assuming it’d be similar to what he’d look like once he recognizes the truth about you. You wonder if he feels it too— this strange air between the both of you, going past tension, and delving into something deeper and darker.

You’re so unsure. So afraid of how fragile this entire thing was.

“Ain’t I getting a kiss, nena?”

“You’re so needy.” You huff, opening your arms anyway. “If you get the bubonic plague, you’re gon’ be the one complaining all about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, nena, whatever you say— just gimme my kiss.”

And he penguin walks his way to you, leaning down like a kid in search of candy. Miles steps into your view, following wherever you turned— his hands making their own journey across your waistline. Your palms snake up his shoulders, heels faltering backward when he presses you up against a brick wall. Your hands fall down to grip his arms instead, head tilting ever so slightly before taking his lips.

He takes you like you were his favorite drink, digging his fingers into the side of your waist— his body melting like ice on a summer day. With his hand, he angles your chin much higher, while yours trail up his chest, parting your lips to gasp for air, only for Miles to steal it away from you.

And when you part, you’re left a heaving mess.

“Trick or treating on Saturday?” He asks again. “Please?”

“… I—“

“I’ll take a bite of every candy you’ll get just to make sure it ain’t poisoned.”

You laugh at his remark.

“Fine.”

It was strange, almost unfamiliar to you, to meet the gate of the manor at this time of night.

It had you questioning your choices, your rationality, and the soundness of your mind. Your mind wasn’t entirely sound to begin with, fortunately for you Miles liked that about you.

After bribing the security, tossing Antonne’s bike to the side, and creeping into the damn place, suddenly, you’re thrust back into the stillness of your family’s generational household.

The marble tiles, the limestone brick walls, and the grandeur steps that parted by the center were all normalcy to you— in spite of how you’d always deemed your family as ‘capable’ to Miles.

Instead of childhood photos and potted plants, you were greeted by the sight of marvelously carved statues and antique paintings. Rather than a home, it felt more like a museum to you— but in a way, it was also your fault for keeping everything too clean.

It’s unfair.

One day you’ll leave this very house and leave it under the care of Antonne who hardly bore any interest for managing things. Despite the way you’ve learned to force yourself to take interest in numerous fields of whatever-the-fuck, this manor was something you treasured along with the hotel. Your father was well aware of your passion, your skills in tidiness, and that was the reason why he appointed you as Antonne’s proxy initially, but you were greedy for more.

You were a little too greedy to want Miles and the life you’d desired for the longest time. You didn’t know what the future was like, and you’ve grown too sick of having everyone else decide your own future for you. This life of infinite spending and glamour was the only life you’d ever known, and you weren’t prepared to abandon it all. As your mother said, no one’s privileged enough to be born as wealthy as you, and you’d likely carry that sort of financial ignorant bliss to the grave.

But Miles didn’t have that.

His family didn’t have generational heirlooms worth thousands of dollars, nor did they have antique paintings bought from highly private auctions. His home only had two bedrooms, unlike your own which housed tens of them.

You and him were astronomically different in more ways than one.

One of these days, those differences might end up either empowering or deadly to one of you.

Step. Step. Step.

As you treaded up the staircase, your hand jolts away from the icy ivory-pillared railings, cussing a subtle “Fuck,” as you went on. In the dead of the night, the halls appeared eerier and darker— as though you could see your own ancestors walking past the red carpets with their frilly gowns and downcast looks of disappointment. Like you could see them shaking their heads just after seeing you there, wearing Miles’ hoodie.

A scandal capable of ruining the family name. As if Antonne wasn’t enough, you ended up falling for a boy you’d likely run away with had you ever gotten the chance.

Elopement. Dramatically cliché, and somehow it still exists in the twenty-first century— for the star-crossed lovers and the filthy rich. Or maybe you just have really bad taste in men… Or parents! Pick a struggle.

You carried your shoes along with your guilt while trudging down the corridor, knowing you’ll likely have to have someone secretive clean the mess up for you. Antonne’s room was in a separate hall, with Malachi’s closer to your own. Even then, like a mouse, you scurry in silence just so you wouldn’t get caught. When you finally reach your door, a thousand burdens escape from your shoulders, only to hear a faint click when you try to twist the handle.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“Why won’t it fucking open?” You whisper to yourself. A few more Click Click Click Click Click’s and you manage to finally recognize that you’ve been locked out of your own damn room. You search through your clothes to find the key, only to realize that it’d been in the pockets of the hoodie you’ve left at Miles’ place. In your anxiety, you pull on the edge of your hair, cursing a million words.

I can’t wake up Malachi.

You place your hand over your mouth.

Your breaths begin to stagger, your exhaustion taking hold of you. You tug at your hair a little harder, as though your current goal was to rip your scalp out— and it hurt, it hurt like absolute hell, but nothing was up to par with the pain brought to you by your own mean mind.

But you think, and you think.

Then you lean back, take a breath, and sigh.

And the next thing you know, you’re stabbing through the lock with a knife.

Well, it was less of a stab, more like a saw to jam the bolt. It took a few several tries, but it did manage to unlock after a snap. You heave a sigh of relief, heading right in before gently closing it shut. Immediately off to rest your head against the flat of your door as a sort of celebration for your success.

“… Where have you been?”

You celebrated a little too soon, unfortunately.

Antonne stared at you from the sill of one of your opened windows, the gleam of the new dawn gleaming in pink and blue behind him, casting a long shadow that trailed past your fluffy carpet and dawned over your darkened face. Ever so slowly, he plucks the dying cigarette from his teeth, the intoxicating scent tugging at your nostrils. For once, Antonne’s taken you aback after the longest while. He looks similarly exhausted, with his unbuttoned dress shirt and disheveled hair, while also reasonably confused by your current appearance.

“I was out.” You shallowly answer, as if it weren’t too obvious. Antonne furrows his brows, only heightening the permanent arch he already endowed. At the sound of your words, he clicks his tongue and flicks the cigarette out the window.

“Was it that boy again?” He speaks a baritone lower, like something being dragged through gravel. His shoulders heightened as he rested his palms above the sill. You sense a sort of imposing façade.

“… Miles Morales?”

Your eyes flit open, ventriloquist-esque. Like a dummy brought to life to perform for the circus. At that moment, the two of you siblings began to notice the semblances mirroring your parents’ ways; the younger sister who weaponizes her own ignorance like her father, and the older brother who, like a dog, barks endlessly like their mother. Your body leans against the handle, placing all your weight down a single foot while preparing yourself for whatever Antonne’s spared to speak.

“… Fifteen years old, lives with his single mother, Rio Morales, who’s a nurse at Langone. He’s close with his uncle, Aaron Davis, and he keeps steady high marks at Visions Academy... And yet,” His gaze narrows distastefully. “Despite going to such an elite school, he continues on to live a shady life, having at least once or twice participated in vandalism, destruction of private property, and simple assault.”

Antonne eyes your reaction, but you only shrug.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

He clears his throat.

“His father, Jefferson Davis, momentarily worked for father and applied for security three years ago.“ Antonne takes a step forward, the shadow over his face growing darker. “And on the opening night of Aureum, he signed up to take a shift at the evening party.”

Antonne stood eerily, and so did you. The tension a blur, cuttable with a single slice from the knife hidden behind you.

“Did you know about that too?”

“... What are you insinuating?”

Antonne yells out your name in a bellow, but you don’t flinch. Like a deer, round and wide, your eyes were hauntingly frozen, scrutinizing the way he heaved. He struggled to search for the words to describe you— crass, cruel, wicked, bitch. And it only mulled him downer seeing you look guiltless. With his hand, he drags you by the collar.

“You’re wearing the hoodie of a boy whose father died in the tragedy you’re fucking covering up.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

+17479256640 sent a picture || Just now

Aaron peers at the message at his phone, swiping it upwards, thinking it must’ve been some sort of scam or bot. He chugs down the final sip of his coffee, settling by the couch with a disgruntled moan. He rests his head by the armrest, placing his mug down by the table before him. As he stretches the ache off his limbs, another chime goes off from his phone.

He lazily plucks it from his side, wincing as the bright screen flashed him.

+17479256640 || Just now

This is your nephew, right?

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“Shh." You pull a finger over your lips, hushing him as though he were a child. Your other hand drafts away from the lock, and you toss the knife to the side. The loud, clacking way it fell made Antonne jump. And he sees you, and the way your lips curled into this amused smile.

At that smile alone, he falters, remembering so suddenly every detail about the mother you two shared. Every strand of her beautiful hair which you endowed, the darkening of her gaze when she was having fun, and the deriding way she looked at the people she deemed inferior.

I don’t need a knife to kill you, Antonne.

That look you had, a smile which he now recognized as a sneer, was what true hatred was.

“Antonne, maybe you’re forgetting that I’m not covering up just any fuck up, I’m covering up your fuck up.”

And when you took a single step forward, all of what was left of Antonne’s confidence crumbled.

“The building collapsed because you forced the workers to rush the process of the construction— and when the media got a hold of what was happening, you ran to Switzerland with Richard just to avoid the consequences, and all of who dealt with everything was me.” You dug an accusing finger into his shoulder. “I took care of everything in your place, and I sacrificed so much for it. But when you realized how I might take over your spot in the hotel, you came back after three whole years— going through every detail of me that you could find as a weakness. Well, let me tell you one thing, my dearest brother,”

You whisper over to his ear. “You can’t beat me at a game you’ve never fucking played before.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“What the fuck?”

Aaron sits right back up, clutching his phone with strength he never thought he had. Swiftly, he presses the notification— greeted with a photo of Miles and some girl walking down the streets with their hands clasped together. When the text bubble reappears, another photo surfaces with the girl’s face being much clearer. A sense of familiarity strikes him, and he couldn’t quite place what it was.

He zooms into the picture, fingers grasping the bottom of his chin while scourging through his memories.

His eyes trace the details of your hair, every curve and curl— your eyes, downcast and very attentive of Miles’ presence. So aware of him, it’s as though he was all that was left in the world. And he looked at you the same way. For a moment, it was like witnessing Rio and Jeff once more, with those gazes smiles.

‘Pretty. The kind of pretty who knows what she wants, and she can use her own face to get it. When you say something stupid, she’ll let you know that what you said was stupid with just her eyes alone— and it’ll shut me up, and I love it.’

Those were Miles’ exact words. For the last two months, you were all he ever really talked about. Seeing you now, Aaron couldn’t help but raise his brows at the sight of your hand intertwined with his nephew’s. He ought to be lying if he ever said that Miles was exaggerating— you were definitely a looker. And that was what unsettled him the most. He had this gut feeling he couldn’t shake, a burden gnawing at his stomach.

He soon drags his thumbs across the keyboard, typing out immediately.

Aaron Davis || Just now

who’s this?

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“… What’s happened to you?”

It was genuine. And it wasn’t just curiosity, Antonne was seriously wondering with worry.

“What have you done to the sister I grew up with?”

The sister he grew up with?

Antonne could still remember, every aspect and smile you bore three years ago. And he remembered as though it’d all disappeared just yesterday. You were a smiley little girl— always a little too smart for her own good, and always a little too cheeky. But you were shy, and often kept to yourself. Even during those days, you often hid yourself in the shadows, crawling into the corner of every room you entered with a book in your hand.

He recognized you then. Now you were a complete stranger.

Your hand drops, and you shove your shoulder against Antonne’s. “Grew up with? You never grew up.” You trudge towards the window, closing it shut as soon as you got to the handle. “Meanwhile, I had to be an adult as soon as possible because if not me, then who? Mom’s not here, Dad’s a mess, Malachi’s ten years old, Montrell’s in London, and you ran away.” Your body sinks down to the floor. “When I’m with Miles, I feel… Sixteen, like how I should be.”

“… But if you’d just give me the job—“

“I’m not giving you shit.” You spat. “Not yet, at least, stop fucking rushing.”

Antonne stood, watching you sit by the sill, hand over your nightstand to reach out for your vape.

And the way it exits, so lividly and hatefully, like how mother would smoke after every silent dinner.

You were everything like her.

No matter how much you tried to erase yourself from your mother’s legacy, it didn’t help that you were the spitting image of her.

Even in the way you struggled, you were still your mother’s daughter.

“You.. Remind me of...” Mother. The comment slips after seeing her image overlap with your silhouette. You already knew the ending of the sentence as soon as it exited his lips. As the smoke trickles past your teeth, you look up.

“… You want me to do what she would’ve done?”

The way the moonlight pooled before you reminded him of how the glass shards glimmered around your mother after she’d wrecked her own room.

“You’re already doing what she did,” He murmurs. “Doing stupid shit for stupid ideals.”

You grab whatever you can off of the nightstand, throwing it right at Antonne who steps back from the impact of the book. As you heave, he stared hauntingly.

“You think you’re the only one trying so hard in life? I’m also doing my fucking best. You’re basing me off of a mistake I did when I was seventeen.” He took a step forward. “You weren’t the only one forced into adulthood. Instead of playing soccer and going out on first dates, dad made me run a hotel. Sure! I didn’t do half as great as you’re fucking doing, but once you fuck up, dad’s going to abandon you too.”

“I know that.” You shakily admit. “I know that no matter what I fucking do, the hotel’s going to end up in your hands, and all I’ve got is a shitty arranged marriage bound to go down the drain and a few many nights with too much wine and regrets ahead of me.” You rub your hands together for the sake of warmth, your voice growing shakier as it settles to break.

“But what I want, what I really want— I just want dad to look at me and think, ‘oh, maybe she can take hold at least a part of the conglomerate!’ instead of selling me off!”

It’s as though the Hotel was Antonne’s toy, and you’d been polishing it all these years with great care, knowing damn well he’d leave it off to rot.

But you never wanted that toy in the first place. You wanted your father to see you taking care of that toy, in hopes he’d gift you one that you could take care of for yourself.

“The reason why he’s not giving you any of it is b—“

“Because he doesn’t want the Fisks to use me after the marriage, I know.”

You run your fingers through your hair, tugging as though it were about to fall of your scalp.

“I’ve found… A way to escape it.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

+17479256640 || Just now

Do you recognize the girl beside him?

You replied || Just now

No.

His knee jumps along to the drumming of his chest. He thinks of Miles, wondering if he’d been kidnapped, coerced, or attacked. He knew the boy— he’s strong enough to fend for himself against many things. He’s well taught, he’s a genius and…

He’s a fucking fool for his lady. Just like his father.

God, who knew that the lone weakness of the Prowler was a sixteen-year-old with a pretty face?

Ding.

+17479256640 || Just now

Sent an attached file

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

You and Antonne’s heads swerve at the sound of your phone’s ringing. Begrudgingly, you pushed yourself off of the floor, scrambling to get your phone. With another hit off of the pen, you answer the call.

“What is it?”

And in the background, you hear yelling— commands being thrown in chaos and panic. You look at the ID, finding out that it’s one of your father’s aides. With a hushed whisper and a jagged breath, he reports.

“The Warehouse is being raided, miss–“ A gunshot soars through the air, chillingly searing through a momentary silence. The man whimpers, his voice muffled by his hand. “Raided?” You repeat, voice coming to a hush. “Raided by who?”

And with his jaded breath, he answers.

“.. The Prowler.”

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac #5 : lil guy observation log

Mini Mac chap 5 already, Macaque thinks he's sneaky this chap, it backfires.

Sun Wukong was definitely one of the weirdest individuals Macaque ever met. If at first the black-furred monkey wasn't really interested in the Monkey King, only tolerating his presence and having fun at his expense, he found himself being intrigued by a number of things after spending some time with him. He told himself he was only researching this matter because Sun Wukong had settled in his house and didn't seem ready to leave anytime soon. As the proverb said, if you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. He forgot who pronounced those words but it surely came from a wise place.

Thus, Macaque began to follow the sage around. Of course, the black-furred monkey never stepped outside of the water - curtain cave and, because winter was still ongoing, he was reluctant to leave the safety of the mansion walls. He hid in the shadows and silently observed the sage as he interacted with the outside world. He was peeking over the basket put on the living room's table, eyes following the sage's figure as he groomed some of his subjects. Sun Wukong had always struck him as someone brutish. The numerous tales spreading about his feats always depicted him as an arrogant power-driven beast or a brash rising star. People outside of the mountain either feared him or admired him. It was quite surprising to see him being so delicate. His fingers weaved around the strands with great care, flowing like the course of a river, removing bugs and twigs. The monkey seated on his lap was one of the youngest, squirming around his fingers with high pitched giggles. He looked quite slippery, yet the King managed to keep him still, distracting him with his tail.

Once the youngling was properly groomed he escaped the sage hold and jumped on one of his friends waiting in the inner garden. Both cubs stumbled in the garden and chased one another throughout the house. Sun Wukong huffed, probably amused by their games, eyes softened by fondness.

Sun Wukong was close to his people. This was something Macaque learned quite early on in his observation of the great sage. Contrary to many other rulers the black-furred monkey knew of, the sage lived as his people. They shared tables and beds, manners and riches, of course the King still viewed himself as somewhat greater than his people (or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he viewed himself as the most powerful being within his troop, which wasn't untrue) but he never looked down on them. The monkeys honored him, and in return the sage protected them, beyond this simple fact they acted like family.

It was odd, yet it suited the great sage, thought Macaque. He didn't seem like one to be fond of complicated political relationships. Yet, contrary to what many could think, this simplessness of mind was in no cases proof of foolishness. Despite liking a simple way of living and a more direct approach when it came to warfare, the sage was sharp-minded. Macaque never followed him outside, but the wind brought echoes of his battles and the way he carried himself on the battlefield. Sun Wukong was by no means a fool, even if he often acted the part. He could manage a kingdom with a complicated hierarchical system and a tendency for trickery, he simply chose not to.

Sun Wukong turned towards the basket, the one Macaque was hiding behind, and leaned over it to pick up the roundest peaches. The black-furred monkey crouched down and slipped in the basket’s shadow to remain unseen. The sage didn't seem to notice him, or if he did he gave no hints of it. He brought one peach to his mouth and bit the pinkish skin eagerly, tail swaying contently behind him. This was the other thing Macaque quickly learned about the sage, he was greedy, in particular for peaches. He liked to indulge himself and could somehow eat dozens of peaches without even breathing. Macaque had been half-disgusted, half-amazed to see him devour his entire pantry (consisting of more than thirty peaches) after one particularly drunken night. But the sage greed wasn't limited to peaches, it expanded beyond that. Sun Wukong seeked strength and, most of all, acknowledgement. Macaque could see it in the way the sage paraded before his so-called sworn-brothers, the echoes of their nights often traveled far and wide on the mountain. Macaque didn't truly understand this want, for contrary to the sage he wanted nothing to do with other people, but he guessed it was because he was used to living alone, the sage however was not.

Macaque decided that he did enough observing for one day, he didn't want to get caught after all, it would be quite embarrassing. The black-furred monkey turned around, ready to dive in the basket’s shadows and travel through the dark, he stilled however when he felt a pair of eyes on him. Macaque looked up and narrowed his eyes at the cub hanging on the table's edges. The fuzzy lil thing was barely hanging on the table, cheeks squished by the rims, eyes wide and filled with childish wonder. The youngling blabbered in this messy language only understood by youngsters. Macaque recognized one chirp, “Ghost!” and he sighed. When he first came on Flower Fruit Mountain he scared a group of younglings with some shadowy tricks (in his defense they were horribly loud and brash). Since then a rumor went around the younglings, something about a ghost in the shape of a monkey haunting the mountain. Of course, the adults didn't take it seriously, and Macaque had thought the rumor died down with the passing years.

It was at the same time flattering and bothering to learn the rumor subsisted within the younger generations.

The back-furred monkey puffed out his chest and tried to be intimidating, he weaved some shadows around his face to look more menacing, hoping this would be enough to scare the fuzzy lil thing. The youngling giggled and clapped, chubby arms stretched towards him in hope of grabbing him. Macaque groaned and escaped the tiny chubby paws of the cub, not willing to be grabbed.

“Don't grab him Yue, he's gonna bite you.” Macaque flinched at the voice, he glanced upward and groaned when he crossed gaze with the sage. Sun Wukong took the lil Yue and let her latch on his chest, she giggled, always happy to see her king, and began to chew on her fingers.

“I was just passing by.” Mumbled the macaque, the tip of his ears reddening in embarrassment.

“Huh huh, so that's why you've been following me around for the past few days?” Chuckled Sun Wukong with a smirk etched on his lips.

“I was just… observing.” It was no use denying it now, he underestimated how keen the sage's eyes were.

“I see, so we're your observations any good?” Macaque raised one eyebrow at the King's odd skittish tone, when he glanced at him he found the sage looking at him with something akin to hope in his eyes.

“I learned some surprising things.” Was Macaque only answer, the sage tail lowered a little in defeat but he quickly brushed his sombering mood away, muttering about how he could work with that and how it wasn't outrightly negative.

“You never leave the water-curtain, do you?” Asked the King after a few seconds of silence.

“No.” Carefully replied the macaque.

“That's a shame, there are so many pretty sights outside!”

“It's dangerous.”

“Well…maybe I can be with you when you're outside? Y-you know I'm quite powerful and I'm the King so I'm friends with the tigers, the dragons, the foxes and the phoenixes and everyone, really.” Sun Wukong seemed oddly nervous, one of his hands played with lil Yue chubby paws, probably to distract himself.

“I'm not interested.”

“Really? You're not curious about the sky? There is no sky in the cave. Or the hills, the sun, the moon?” Macaque flinched at the moon mention, some deeper part of him crying in longing, he threw a tentative glance at the sage and muttered :

“The moon sounds nice…”

“I can take you to see it! I know many spots and all!” Beamed the sage, tail wagging behind him.

“I…I'll come back to you if I change my mind.”

“Yes, of course! I'll always be glad to take you there!”

Sun Wukong was definitely one of the weirdest individuals he met but it wasn't necessarily a bad kind of weird, thought Macaque as he slipped in the shadows, a small smile blooming on the edge of his lips.

++ always more memes

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[old-poptart]

AAAAAAA IM 🦄BACK🦄

hanako/tsukasa(and if possible boy!akane) x a Brazilian reader?? like, who has a stronger accent, and has weird habits aaaaa I'm going to die 🦄

a/n: YIPPEE YAY!!!! WE LOVE LATINOS RAHHHHHH, dont die dawg 😓

ANYWAYS ONTO THE HEAD CANONZ!!!!!

warnings: none i could think of

Hanako 🌺, Tsukasa 🥀, and Akane Aoi 👓 with a Brazilian reader (gender neutral):

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanako 🌺:

"gorgeous.. absolutely gorgeous"

he thinks it's so cool that you're brazilian!!!

he honestly sees it as a pro, having a hot ahh latino s/o is a win in his book

hanako would wanna learn how to speak portuguese (it's so that he can flirt with you more in the language)

correct his pronunciation please he's butchering it so much

your accent is so cute!! he loves hearing it, he'd make up stupid excuses to hear you talk more ☠️

"really? and how do you say 'i have the best and hottest boyfriend in the world and i would never give him up for anything'?"

loves to tease you about it though, nothing about you is safe from his teasing ahh 😹

hanako would love to try any dishes from there, especially the ones you like

"is there anything like donuts???"

if you celebrate any traditions, he would love to celebrate them with you! you're such a pleasure to be around~

all in all, he loves you and your habits, ya goober

Tsukasa 🥀:

"ooo that's interesting!! you interest me as well~"

big question asker dawg

you better have some snacks with you it's gonna be a long ride of questions ranging from your mother tongue to what do you do to celebrate events

he will do whatever in his power to get you anything remotely similar to your favorite brazilian foods or lil trinkets

"look s/o!! i got you some maria mole!!"

"tsukasa that's just a marshmallow-"

he's tryin dawg give him some credit

does not understand what you say whenever you speak your mother tongue but always smiles when you do

like hanako, he thinks your accent is very cute!! the way you pronounce your words brings a blush to his ghostly face

tsukasa himself is weird too, so he would gladly partake in any questionable activities you have planned

he would learn any dances that interest you so that he can show off his moves to you

he's moving like a twig please help him

Akane Aoi 👓:

"oh please, enlighten me!"

i have a suspicion that akane has some portuguese up his sleeve

it's a bit rusty bear with him he's trying his best, he wants to impress you 😓

he loves to learn about your culture!! no matter what you talk to him about, whether it's your favorite food or event, he's all ears

akane would love to attend any events with you in his free time

"oh ive seen this dance before!! it looks marvelous"

dawg is so in love with you

i can see that different dialects fascinate him, so when he hears your voice he can't help but smile and giggle like a lil girl

if you're ever insecure about your accent, he'll reassure you a ton!! positive affirmations being whispered between your lips as you two kiss, how romantic~

he'd be more than happy to try out some dishes!!

he'd learn to cook your favorite dish

overall, he loves you and your goofy lil antics. what a cute couple~

RAHHH THIS WAS SO KEWL, HOPE YOU ENJOY!

-ooga :D

[merwynsartblog]

THISSS IS GONNA BE A LIL WEIRDDDD- BUTTTT its not like gross or anything its just sweet stuff im sorry if what i write seems weird

MARCO HAS BODY ISSUES. I RLLY HEAVILY THINK THAT SINCE JAZ SORTA....FORCED HIM TO GET FAT...so ofc marco is sorta..feeling very off about his body and dislikes it alot- he has more fat than muscle and he sorta gave up losing weight but he doessss...feel like hes ugly and not good enough EVEN THOUGH HE SHOULDNT BC HES BEAUTIFUL-

So i sortaaaa like to think his boyfriends sorta..like..always say sweet things about his body and always saying things like "But i love my personal warm pillow :(" and silly things like that *Looking at kevin and radford MOTHER FUCKING TWIGS/SILLY*

Rick when marco gets comfortable with him with touch i really think he wouldddd sorta kiss his stomach and hug him and it just makes marco melt alot- rick i dont see him as a talker so marco sorta...learns what hes trying to say by his actions so the first time hes confused but after a few more times he slowly gets it and just...MELTS- ITS SWEET TO HIM fhdhdj

RLLY LIKE TO THINK RADFORD WOULD TALK ABOUT ALOT OF ADVANTAGES ABOUT HIS BODY AND TELL HIM LIKE- "your a healthy amount of fat- you do know there is a healthy amount of fat right?" bc i hc radford as the thinnest in the group, and i sorta hc him having to research on body stuff a long tim ago bc he wasnt getting so much weight- AND I LIKE TO THINK HE LOVESSSSS LAYING HIS HEAD ON MARCO CHEST/STOMACH AND JUST RAMBLING TO HIM LIKE A SILLY GOOF HE IS/POS

STREBER- i can imagine him actually sorta asking questions like "why do you think your ugly?" and stuff like that and slowlyyyy realizing oh shit her ex was a ass- and just.. basically having a real talk about how she fine how he looks and if shes fat and ugly then he is ugly- as a light hearted silly thing and marco just..sorta giggles and tells him "your not ugly" and streber probably would go "well your not ugly either!-" and it sorta makes marco feels better- i likeeeeeeeee to think streber likes laying on top of marco- it just feels nice tbh-

KEVINNNN- like i said i hc him as not a good comforter or at least not used to it so hes sorta awkward about it- BUTTTTT!! HES ONE OF THE ONLY ONE WHO HAD BODY ISSUES HIMSELF- (i think streber didnt really have any and rick doesnt talk much so he cant really comfort like that and radford doesnt deal with that too often so he cany say anything about it) BUT KEVIN- THE TRANS ICON- he would sorta know hoe to comfort him about it- hes very gentle about it too and basically listing alot of nice things about marco and basically telling him hes fine and perfect and wouldn't trade him for anything in the world fhfhd ALSOOO..i sortaaaaa...think he likes it when marco lays on him like a weighted blanket- its nice! and he likes just kissing his chest and arms- which the arms sorta get marco giggling bcccc- uh....*Looking away in a silly way/silly)

but yeah they all be good sweet boyfriends

@totally-not-a-tickle-blog @jonesy-squish

[elliesbiatch]

2. Trapped

Ellie x fem reader

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, mdni, angst, kinky, face riding, knife play?, rope, pet names, fingering, sadism/masochism, spanking, a lil blood, degrading names etc. lmk if I forgot any xx

Notes: proofread slightly, I’m horny,also thanks for all the likes/reads/ follows ! It means sooo much ilyyyy x word count: 2.2k

Reblogs/likes/follows are appreciated xo

My legs felt like they were gonna collapse as I ran behind a tree to try catch my breath. I’ve been running for more than 15 minutes to try and get away from a girl that’s trying to kill me. I was was only walking through a small town trying to get supplies for my group when she appeared from out of nowhere with a bow and arrow ready to shoot me.

I hear foot steps getting closer as I try hold my breath, so I’m not too loud. Fuck- this is it- I’m gonna be killed for no reason. Her footsteps get closer and I quickly try think of what to do next. Why the fuck was she trying to kill me anyways ? I didn’t even do anything wrong. My fight or flight kicks in as a twig snaps behind me and I run as fast as I can into a nearby building. I start running up the stairs as an arrow flies right past me, missing my shoulder by an inch.

“Stop fucking running, I’m gonna catch you anyways” I hear a voice scream from behind. She’s fucking relentless. I turn around to check if she’s not there, before running into a room. I hide behind a desk holding my chest as I feel it rise up and down quickly. Maybe I lost her? I can’t hear her anymore. I look around the desk slightly and nearly jump out of my skin when I see the door creak open. Fuck. She fucking found me. I hold onto my knife tightly- ready to kill her if I have to.

I hear her creep in- soft footsteps on the concrete floor. I hear a low giggle that makes my blood run cold. “I know you’re in here, might as-well be a good girl and just come out already”. I shiver at her words. She’s sick- she’s enjoying this. A few seconds go by and my heart continues to nearly break out of my chest. I turn to look around the desk again to see where she is- but she’s not there. Where the fuck did she go?

“Found you” a low voice says as I realise I’m fucked. I turn quickly to see an auburn haired girl with green eyes. She didn’t match what I had pictured this whole time. Her cheeks all freckled and lips plump. Just beautiful. How could someone so beautiful be horrible enough to want me dead for no reason. “Get the fuck up before I make you” she snaps as I look at her in fear. I was in shock- pure panic- I couldn’t make myself move.

Before I can even try move, she grabs my wrist and yanks me up. She’s strong what the fuck. I wince in pain at her grip as she pulls me to the other side of the room. “I fucking told you to get up and you didn’t listen- you’re fucked” she growls, pushing me back onto a black leather chair. She grabs the knife from my hand and places it on the floor beside her bag. She quickly gets something out of the bag. “Put your hands behind your back” she insists- eyebrows raised- with a rope in hand. “No” I croak out, immediately regretting it. “Oh yeah ?” She says kneeling down to me in the chair. “If I were you- I’d listen” she says as my cheek starts to sting. She fucking slapped me.

I quickly bring my hand up to rub my sore cheek but she snatches it and puts my hands around my back and starts to tie them with the rope. I’m fucked now. “Ouch that’s too tight” I squeal as the rope digs into my wrists. I try to stand up but she pushes me back down. “Move once more and I’m gonna have to fuck you up” she huffs, making me shiver. “Look- if you’re gonna kill me- just do it already” I scream at her- tears welling in my eyes. “Oh sweet girl- don’t cry” she says in a fake-caring voice and rubs her hand over my cheek to wipe the tear. “I’m not gonna kill you” she says with her eyes full of lust. “I’m just gonna fuck you “ she growls landing another slap on my salty, wet cheek.

“W-what” I whisper as she starts to take her jacket off. “You heard me- I’m gonna fuck you- until you can’t walk” she growls. “What the fuck- let me go” I scream trying to get my hands out of the restraint. “Don’t make me gag you- so you can’t use your worthless mouth anymore” she says, continuing to take her clothes off. She’s left in only a sports bra and some boy shorts.

“Your turn slut” she snaps as she pulls my trousers down, leaving me in my tank top and thong. “Mmmm fuck” she says under breath, leaning down to my jaw, her hands resting on my bare thighs. She begins nipping at my jaw making me gasp. She then places soft kisses where she just nipped. A shot of pleasure shoots down to my clit, which surprises me…. What’s happening. Her arms are toned and freckled - just like her cheeks.

She brings her lips down to my neck and begins to suck on it vigorously, leaving purple marks. “Ugh fuck” i moan. She stops and looks up to me. Her eyes are glassy with her want for me. “You’re a dirty little bitch- you’re enjoying this” she snarls looking down at my thighs that are pushed together to stop the ache. What was wrong with me. She puts her hands down to my thighs and snatches them aggressively open. “Keep your legs open so I can see your needy cunt” she growls, causing my clit to pulse.

“You’re sick” I whisper. She smirks before grabbing my thin tank top into her fists and rips it off of me. “Ow that fucking hurt” I scream as she pinches my nipples. My back arches slightly as I feel the pain and pleasure she’s giving me right now. “Look at these perky fucking tits” she says leaning in and nipping at one of them. It fucking stings. She sees my expression and goes in to bite it again, only this time a little too hard. I scream as I look down and see a tiny bit of blood. “Fuck don’t do that - there’s blood” I pant. She lets out a low giggle.

She stands up and goes over near her bag and picks up my knife. Fuck. “You look scared” she mocks, walking up to me and touching my collarbone with the sharp object making me squirm. “Please don-“ I begin. But she shuts me up by slightly piercing my skin with the blade. “Don’t speak” she growls as I feel a salty tear run down my cheek. She begins trailing the knife down my bare abdomen, glancing up to look at my face every couple of seconds.

She makes it all the way down to my panties and bites her lip as she uses the knife to cut them off. I was completely on show now. She begins to let out a low laugh as she drops the knife down by the chairs leg. “you’re cunt is all wet and messy already”. I feel so humiliated- I couldn’t really help but get wet- there was something about her that was so attractive. “I knew you were a stupid whore” she snaps before slapping my inner thigh, making me gasp.

“You fucking like it don’t you” she grins leaning down to my core. She gives my thigh another slap and watches as I buck my hips up as the sting turns to pleasure. “You’re dripping for me- stupid bitch” she says. Fuck I need her. I start to close my legs as the frustration grows between my thighs. “Keep them open - keep your sloppy cunt on show for me” she says as I Bite my lip, nearly drawing blood.

She leans down and starts to kitten lick my clit. I roll my head back in pleasure as she lightly licks me. Too light. I push hips closer to her face trying to have more if her. “Mmmm..so needy” she mumbles as she dives her tongue into my hole. “OH FUCK” I scream as her tongue slips in and out of me. Her eyes locked with mine as she snakes her toned arm up to grasp my throat. “You want me to choke you while I eat your Pussy?” She grunts as I rock my pussy closer and closer to her.

She squeezes hard around my throat as her lips wrap around my swollen clit. She sucks hard and before I know it my legs start to quiver. Im gonna cum. “You’re such a little slut- you want to cum all over my tongue don’t you” she murmurs into my pussy. Her hot breathe sends shivers up my spine as I get close to my orgasm. Just as I’m about to cum she harshly nips my throbbing clit. “Owww what the fuck” I cry as I feel my clit pulse from both pain and the lost orgasm.

“Not yet” she growls, grabbing me by the hips and picking me up. She brings me to the desk I was using to hide from her earlier. Fuck- things have changed. “Can you untie me” I groan as I feel the ropes irritate my skin. “Why? So you can leave?” She asks with a flash of sadness in her eyes. “No” I gulped. “I wouldn’t leave, I just wanna touch you” I shyly say. She’s quiet for a second, thinking. “Even if I did try run, I’m sure you’d just catch me again” I say biting my lip. “Fine” she growls, releasing my hands. “Fuck” I say looking at my bruised, red wrists. That’s gonna leave a mark. “Mmmm good- now you won’t forget this” she smirks and brings her fingers down to my cunt.

A fistful of my hair in her hand. Without warning she slams two fingers into me and I scream, letting my nails dig into her back. “Oh you feel so good” she groans, fucking me. Her eyes don’t leave my pussy as she watches her fingers get even sloppier as they come in and out of me. She was grabbing my hair tighter every once and awhile and I winced at the feeling but she loved it. I need more- I need to cum before I fucking explode. I thrust my hips harder into her as I feel her fingers hit my cervix. “Oh shit- “ she starts, watching as I try my hardest to use her fingers to get to my high.

“You’re fucking desperate aren’t you” she states biting her lip and looking at me through lidded eyes. She slams another finger into me. “F-fuck I-“‘I moaned, trying my hardest to get a sentence out. It was no use though. “Tell me” she growls. “I- I w-wanna c-um” I yelp. I continue to moan as I nearly reach my high again. She mocks my moans making me feel embarrassed. I couldn’t help my girlish moans though- she was fucking me too good. “You’re fucking pathetic” she groans as I scream, Cumming all over her hand.

She unexpectedly lets go of my head and I slam back onto the cold desk. “Ow” I say, leaning up and rubbing the back of my head. She’s standing in front of me, eyes still filled with lust. Fuck- she couldn’t want to do more to me right? I can’t take it. I look down at her boy shirts to see a wet spot. “Lie down” she instructs and I do as she asks. “Good girl- you’re learning to obey” she coos. She drops her underwear to the ground and climbs up, straddling my abdomen. “Now- you’re gonna be a good little slut and clean me up” she growls.

Before I could say anything she scoots up and slams her wet cunt down on my face, riding it, wasting no time. I begin to lap up her sweet juices as her nose scrunches up with pleasure. “Yeah- just like that whore” she grunts as I harshly suck her clit in my wet mouth. She brings one hand up to her small tits and massages them through her bra, and lets the other hand fall to my forehead, letting it rest there as she keeps riding. “You wanna fucking make me cum you dirty bitch” she mutters. I hum into her pussy as her legs begin to shake. She screams in pleasure as I taste her sweet juices run down my throat.

Once she used me, She gets up and leaves me on the desk. What the actual fuck just happened. I lay there as I hear her shuffle around. I’m too scared to get up or even look around, in fear she’ll end me. I felt pathetic just laying here after she fucking ruined me. “Don’t let me see you around here anymore” she says, breaking the silence and I turn my head to see her. “Or I’ll have to fuck you up again” she says with a smirk. “That sounds more like an invitation” I croak back. She hums and leaves the room. Leaving me to clean myself up.

Also comment if you want me to do a part 2 of this ;))

[eldritch-spouse]

Morell's creepy lamp-shaped friend came to visit!

TW: Non-con fondling, brief descriptions of gore.

He's so damn tired of people waltzing into his fucking kitchen just for kicks.

Morell keeps that open for Grimbly to work quickly, not for other little fuckwits to slide in like they own the fucking place and do what they want. It just grates on his nerves so hard. He's going to have to address Admin on that.

The chef only left to go fetch spices from his stock in the warehouse. Something that simple. Not even one minute later and Turnip's tugging at his smock, saying someone "weird and tall" is in the kitchen.

The monster's seeing red before he can control himself, cleaver out of his pocket and storming back inside, ready to slice someone in pieces.

" WHAT THA FUCK DO Y- "

He freezes.

Somewhat hunched inside his workspace is someone Morell never expected to see any time soon, much less inside The Clergy. A long-time friend, him and the ink cap go way back. Back to when Morell was just a weird little runt shoveling holes in the forest next to his backyard to bury carcasses. He saw this dumbass digging up his work, got livid, they brawled, ended up being found by his parents and both got dragged in for dinner. The rest is history.

Lord, the fucker just keeps getting taller. Not an inch of meat on that rail-thin stem. He knows they come from different lineages, but it still bothers the blue one to see someone he considers a friend bend and move like a twig on legs. Speaking of, the pale shroom seems to be enamored with his latest collection of knives, yet to be properly put to use. Shags measures one with his freakishly spidery digit and hums, setting it down. He's about to reach for another when he notices the cook standing in the doorway with Turnip behind his leg.

" Mori, old friend...! " The shroom exclaims, exposed grin widening. That odd voice makes it seems as if he's always whispering, like there's something stuck in his throat. Though it's nowhere near as visceral as the jester's hacking.

Morell is quickly approached, dragged in for a hug that feels more like he's being snared in a net of weirdly drippy webbing. Ugh. " ... Shags? "

The other laughs quietly. " It's been a while, right? I love the set up you have going on! What are those little black things running around, do they taste good? "

Morell puts a comfortable amount of distance between the both of them. " Ey, hol' on, don' eat 'em, I need those alive and kickin'. " He warns. " I never thought ah'd see ya here? "

Shags nods. " And I never thought I would gather the courage to enter either! " A trembly rasp, Morell's been around him enough to not get creeped out by the other's mannerisms all that much. " But I'm so very glad I did, this place is marvelous. "

Morell wouldn't be that flowery about it, but whatever.

The chef scratches at the back of his cap, completely forgetting about the supposedly grave offense committed against him, far too curious about the other's presence to chastise him. " Well shucks, what brings ya here then? 'Side from wantin' ta check on lil' ol' me? "

Shags giggles, watching Pepper cautiously side-step him to reach the wooden spoons, only to get caught by the bigger monster. She trembles and her lip wobbles in fear, though she's learned not to make a scene by now. The shroom pokes her a little and licks his lips, debating. " I said don' eat 'em. "

" Right. Right... " The ink cap releases the blue bobble that nearly pissed itself in fear, she runs off, probably to have a meltdown. Shags straightens back up, as much as he can anyway, and turns to the chef. " Morell, show me your pigs! "

That makes him blink. " Ya know ya can buy some 'ere, right? Plenty ain't that expensive. "

The other huffs. " Well yes, but- I trust your judgement, Mori. You've always been good at picking them. " And you've always been good at stealing them, Morell wants to counter.

" Ya wanna buy one from me? "

" ... Maybe. "

He doesn't. He just wants to snoop, as usual.

Morell snorts. " Fine, c'mon. "

He guides the taller monster through the warehouse doors, walking past several shelves, containers, spare tools and many other thingamajigs that Shags seems visibly tempted to touch. Morell knows the other will investigate if he's not distracted.

" Ya still walkin' 'round with yer neck out? " He asks, sparing the monster a side-glance.

" Oh please, most can't even reach it. Plus... " The ink cap gestures to the strings of tar-like blackness dripping off his gills constantly. With an intentional sway of his head, some of them break off and fall to his robes, apparently absorbed. Yeah, any sort of scarf or covering would quickly get stained by the products of his autocannibalistic digestion. Wearing black isn't just an aesthetic choice, it's also a practical one.

" Slut. " He jabs regardless.

Shaghe only cackles.

Finally, they make it past the reinforced metal doors that lead to the smaller, decidedly bloody room where humans next on the butcher line are kept. Morell walks in and invites his friend, locking the doors behind them both. There's about five humans there, all of them bound to the walls, scarcely clothed, terrorized out of their minds and sustaining several wounds.

Shag's real freak comes out then, and Morell can't help but chuckle when the shroom breathes heavily, excitedly observing everyone and grinning with the same sort of awe he sported when they were teens and Mori used to let him watch his butcherings.

" Oh! Oh oh- They're sooo cute! " He gasps.

A man is grabbed by the chin, turned this way and that, whimpering in fear while Shags tests the give of his meat, cooing when he starts crying.

" I have no idea how you don't get distracted, Mori. " He titters.

Oh, he does.

A moan of discomfort catches the attention of both monsters.

In the corner lies a human, hunched on themselves in a fetal position. They're missing an arm and leg, some sections of their other limbs also picked at. They look sickly, miserable.

Shags crouches, touching them gently, freakish digits roaming that broken figure almost reverently. The bandaged stumps and poked and rubbed at almost luridly. " Oh sweet thing, it hurts, doesn't it? " It might not be noticeable with how much the shroom already drips, but he's salivating. Palms smooth over their abdomen, crotch and chest, Morell rolling his eyes at the other's babying.

The human seems barely coherent, sparing the ink cap a mostly confused glance.

" Oh Mori, this one is at death's doors. "

The chef shrugs. " Might be, some o' them don' take ta it very well. I honestly prefer ta cook 'em whole. "

" They've spoiled. " Shags laments. " Let me help them, old friend. "

Morell squints, never understanding the beanpole's fascination with death, but ultimately having no attachment to a pig that's not even that high quality.

" You gonna put 'em down? "

Shags picks the frail creature up, cradling them to his robes like a baby.

" Yes. "

That rictus is the perfect image of distortion, delusion and genuine warmth painted on it. He truly sees himself as a mercy. Some kind of benevolent reaper. Morell has always remembered Shaghe this way, yet never did he dare touch the subject with a ten foot pole. Respectful, silent understanding is the basis of their bond.

" I'll be sure to give them a happy end. "

The whisper buries itself in the chef's skull and he shivers in place, really not wanting to know what the ink cap considers to be a "happy" end.

[tonberry-yoda]

Late Night Snack Run - Satori Tendou

Pairing - Satori Tendou x reader

Warnings - none!

Word Count - 1,008

Notes - i kinda missed writing for haikyuu tbh. i just have this list of characters i wanna write for and got tendou! i literally love this feral lil guy and am pretty proud of this fic. hope everyone is well and staying hydrated! <3

You woke up. Again. God dammit.

The moon was shining in your eyes and you could definitely tell morning wasn't coming anytime soon.

Why couldn't you ever sleep when you stayed over Tendou's house? It was never a Tendou problem, it had to be you. But it was just annoying at this point.

You curled up against him, his bare skin warm against yours. You thought it was funny that he only slept in a pair of boxers because he would always just throw off his clothes and reveal his skinny body and seductively wink at you only to fall asleep softly snoring two minutes later.

God you loved that little guy.

You hugged him around the back of his neck and placed a kiss on his chest, making him giggle in his sleep. You couldn't help but giggle too, your nose breath tickling his stomach, waking him up in laughter.

"Dang it, y/n! You tickled me awake!" He grabbed you in his arms and pulled you closer to him as his eyes shimmered from the moon outside.

"I didn't mean to, Satori! You know I can never sleep when I come over."

"I feel like it's my fault... I don't have dad snores, do I?!"

You just laughed at his stupid comment and got out of bed, pulling one of his hoodies over your head. "Wanna go for a snack run, Satori?"

"Hell yeah!" He nearly jumped out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. "Shall we?" He stuck out his arm to you as if he was escorting you to some ball, when in reality, you were just going to walk to the closest and probably shitty convenient store.

"The moon sure is pretty." You could see Tendou's breath as he talked, the slight shiver in his movements.

"Sure is." You waited for him to lock up and kept your eyes on the sky. Sure it was cold, but damn night time was beautiful.

"Ready to go, gorgeous?" You felt Tendou's hand glide over your hip before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Sure am."

"Damn," Tendou shivered, pulling his arm away from you and tucking them both into his hoodie sleeves. "Didn't know it would be so cold out here."

"I got to cuddle you before we left, so I tucked all of your body heat I stole into this hoodie. It's not cold one bit." You teased, poking Tendou's stomach.

"Hey now! Give it back!"

"You gotta catch me first!" You giggled and ran off, hearing Tendou's running footsteps only getting closer before pulling you into his arms, picking you up.

"Jesus Tendou!! How strong are you?!"

"Just because I'm a twig doesn't mean I'm not strong!"

"That's not what I said." You squirmed as Tendou threw you over his shoulder, still carrying you.

"I play volleyball, babe. I work out."

"That doesn't mean you can pick me up like it's nothing! I'm pretty sure I weigh more than you, don't I?"

"Yeah, you're a little heavy, but still manageable. Plus I just think it's funny."

You crossed your arms as Tendou put you down. You tried to pout, but couldn't hold back the laugh you had. "Dammit, Satori, your face is just too funny."

"I know you're trying to make fun of me, but I'll take it."

Tendou laughed, placing kisses all over your neck and cheeks.

"Okay, okay!" You giggled, pulling away from Tendou. "How about this: If I manage to carry you all the way to the convenient store from here, you have to buy me a snack."

"DEAL!" Tendou sounded way to excited and managed to get himself on your back for a piggy back ride.

He was way lighter than you thought he'd be. "Dang, Satori, you're so little."

"This should be easy, goofnut. Trot!"

You just rolled your eyes with a smile and carried Tendou, not missing a beat.

"You're pretty good at this y/n."

"You think so?" You could feel him getting heavier the further you walked, but you were not about to give up, especially because the convenient store was right there.

"Mhm. It's like I can see the whole world up here too! I love this! Babe, we should do this more often."

"Hell no." You chuckled, adjusting Tendou, the store only like twenty feet away.

"If you run the rest of the way, I'll buy you two snacks."

"Deal!!" You ran with your entire might, almost dropping your boyfriend in the process, but finally making it.

Tendou jumped off of your back and gave you a pat on the back. "Damn, y/n! Good job! You definitely deserve two snacks now!"

Tendou ran into the store, while you were still at the entrance, completely out of breath.

He peeked his head outside of the store and giggled. "Well? You comin?"

You nodded and held up a finger, catching your breath again. "On my way... just... gimme... one sec."

Tendou got impatient and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the store. "Jesus Tendou! Impatient much?"

"Yup! Now pick out your snacks cuz I wanna get back to cuddling."

You just laughed and grabbed his hand, looking around at the store. Everything looked delicious. Especially considering that you had just run with a six foot tall man on your back.

"Pick out whatever, babe I don't care."

"You don't have to do that, Tendou. I was just playin."

"I'm serious. I really don't care." He pressed a kiss onto your cheek and went on his own snack mission.

After a few minutes of searching you came back with a couple of snacks to find Tendou with a basket full of junk food.

"Hungry much?"

Tendou just laughed, shaking his head and took your snacks of choice, putting them in his basket. "You ready to check out?"

You nodded and kissed Tendou's jaw, walking with him to the checkout.

Not often did you guys go out for late night snack runs, but when you did, it was always a good time.

~~~~~

haikyuu masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

[localsimp4moms]

The Tin Man (Preview)

Weather Report x Herbalist! Reader

A preview for part 1!

Water leaking on the ground as it spills itself over the lip of the wooden tub. Woollen fabric rubbed against itself in an attempt to remove the green staining from it, light slowly dimming as once bright blue skies became painted with pinks and gold.

The cooing sounds of birds accompany the sloshing of the dirty water, the day's excitements coming to a close. Young children making their way down cobbled paths, the echo of shoed feet and youthful giggles forces anyone to have a smile upon their face.

Perhaps it is time you call it a day too…

Peering up to the sky that slowly is lulling itself to sleep, you simply nod. Showing your gratitude for today's productivity. Slowly pulling the still stained fabric from the cold water, you raise it above your head. The added weight from residing water causes one to stumble at the slight shock. Though now began the process of  drying the fabric, folding it over on itself the irritating fabric working itself on your skin.

Pulling it taught, the sound of brubbleing of  releasing itself from its captor. The dirt path blow soaks itself, converting from a light brown, lightly dusted to one of deep colour, fresh, losing its slickly top coating of ash like substance.

Though the final moments of today's relaxation came to an abrupt end. Light feet smashing themselves down upon the narrow path to your small cottage. The smacking of leaves upon thick clothing, uneven breathing - panting. 

Then the sudden plea from the voice of a young boy- “Y-Y/N!”

The sudden call of your own name caused you to jump, though peering from behind the sheet one is met by a red faced child. Sweat running down his face as he hunches, desperate to gain a breath. A mess of brown curls obscuring his water filled eyes as he gags on his words.

“Hurt- H-he! Help! P… Please!” A gurgle of words escaping the young boy's mouth before he desperately reaches for your sleeves, pleading.

An expression of confusion contorted on your face as the child continues to pull at your sleeves. 

“Wait, slow down a moment child. Take a breath.” You speak crouching down, placing the white linen into the bucket, getting eye level with your new companion. A slight smile upon your face as you pat his head, an attempt to slow his hitched breaths.

It took a few moments before he had composed his breathing so he could formulate a full sentence and not just one of jittering words. “A-a man! He is hurt! You are the closest thing to a doctor! You have to help- he’s bleeding!”

It may have been a spear of moment thing, but you did not ask for more information about the injuries, simply telling the young boy to wait whilst you got a few necessities, generic things to treat cuts.

…

…

…

A pebble tumbles down the slope, kicking up dirt and leaves as it barrels down. Gasps for breath are the only sound throughout the woods baring the snapping twigs under a weighted body. 

“Keep going straight Y/N! He was just through there!” A small arm presented itself into your view as a concerned voice continued “Once you see him- I’ll- I’ll go back to the village! I’ll get- dad- Yeah dad! He will get the doctor!” 

Pushing past low rose brambles that tour at your feet, you are met with a clearing, a small empty space, the song of a bird still alive here despite only a few minutes of the day left. Looking, eyes darting to find this injured man, one is met with a strange blue object in the distance

Bright red crimson ran down his palm, the thick liquid glissoning in the fleeting light of the sun. The gash oozing more of the metallic smelling liquid as he forms a fist close to his lips.

Ice blue eyes lock with yours; something lacking in their depth. Almost inhuman.

----

I am still yet to proof read this! I just I want to get a lil preview out!

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

I've just caught up on your fairy au, and seeing the boys get sick got me thinking: what do they do for general hygiene? I. E brush their teeth, bath, skin care/eye care etc. Do they get skin conditions like humans (scars, blemishes, acne, whatever else)? Do the boys have any favorite/particular way they do these things? (Using berries or something for skin care/protection, toothpaste) I can't stop giggling at the thought of them wearing face masks and doing other spa like treatments and make themselves look all pretty😂🥰 What can you tell me of their general biology and how their body functions? This all comes from pure nerdy curiosity. I'll give the precious boys lil treats for humoring me😂🥰🥰

*gives them a couple trinkets/treats* Here you go boys, you too Lunar! I'm looking forward to discovering more about the boys and story lore! 🤗🤗

They use old methods from back in the day. For tooth care, they use flayed twigs like humans used in the olden days. They will wash themselves and their clothes in the nearby creek if need be.

They don't get blemishes like that, thankfully, since they don't have oil. But they do sweat. And while they're fairly good at healing, if they receive an injury severe enough, like a huge or deep wound, it will leave some sort of mark. If they lose an arm or leg, or even a wing, they don't grow back.

As for their biology, I like to say they have "half" of a digestive system. Meaning it stops at the stomach. Whatever they eat is absorbed and becomes energy for their magic. Their wings can disappear and re-appear at will. Though not visually connected to their bodies, they can still feel them.

[twig-the-toad-licker]

*a small child walks up to twig* woow, you’re SOOO TALL!! What’s your favorite animal??? I like pigs! Big ones, lil ones, teacup ones, coffepot ones, whiskey ones, martzipan ones, any pigs! What’s your favorite pig?

-IS THAT A FLYING PIG?!??!!

*Twig was a bit taken aback by how quickly the child was talking, but giggled as the little one noticed Pigtunia, fluttering right over her shoulder.*

"Mhm! Her name's Pigtunia, she's real nice."

*Pigtunia fluttered down towards the child, snorting happily as she sniffed at them.*

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 27*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n has a scandalous dream

Author’s Note: This chapter has an aphrodisiac/sex pollen sorta deal but not really?? You’ll see what I mean lol, I just wanted to like.. give a warning I guess. Like everything that happens is consensual but I guess it's almost dubcon? Idk but it’s hard to explain without giving anything away wuknefjsd

Also, the set up for this one is a biiiiig ol' reference to the Romanceable Rasmodius mod, with dialogue taken from it as well!! I recommend it, the heart events are all pretty cute ^^

Enjoy and take care x

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

Magnus is surrounded by Junimos in the center of his spell circle: all of them speaking over each other, bouncing off his limbs, trying to compete for his attention. In the center, his bright red eyes are blazing with annoyance. 

“Release yourselves at once!” he growls. 

“Razmatasmodiums!” A small pink junimo exclaims, hanging off of his sleeve with their tiny, twig-like arms and kicking their puny little feet around. Another one, hopping in place and using Magnus’ leg to propel themself into various flips, is laughing with glee. A similarly sized red junimo exclaims “Magic! Magink wisard!” as they wave their arms, trying to be noticed.

This is an entire mess, but it is so fucking cute. I walk forward, trying not to show any hints of amusement. When Magnus fails to notice me, I clear my throat.

“Ah!” He gasps, his eyes somewhere between red and pink now, as a similar tint consumes his gray complexion as well. “I’m— agh, will you quit it?!”  He tries to explain the situation to me as his eyes are swallowed by scarlet again, continuing to be cut off by his little elemental friends. “Sto– confound it, you- Fucking hell…!” He sighs. “(Y/n), would you be so kind as to retrieve that book on the ground? Please.”

I do as he says and walk closer, just a few feet from his side. 

“Thank you, now please read that incantation at the bottom of the right page.”

“Mhm,” I hum before following his order.

The chirping of junimos fills the room, and suddenly, all but one are gone. The remaining junimo looks how you’d imagine an animated wild plum to appear. 

Magnus kneels down, and the junimo happily jumps into his outstretched hand. He mutters something to the lil’ creature that I can’t make out while I return his book to its rightful place on the shelf near his workstation. When I come back, I opt for the opposite side of Magnus, nearer to the wall. He places the junimo back down, asking them to tell us more of their background.

After some discussion of the part of the forest they reside in, their culture, and what they do from day to day, the junimo gets sleepy and wants to leave. They wave goodbye from the center of the circle as Magnus recites a spell to send them home.

The wizard sighs deeply with relief. “I merely wanted to commune with the little sprites… in the future, instead of trying to summon them to me, I should probably go into the forest and find them myself.”

“Yeah, that would make more sense,” I tease.

He glares at me —but it turns into an endearing smirk — as I giggle, and he closes in on me. “Now, seeing as that’s all taken care of…” 

My laugh morphs into confusion as he continues inching towards me until I’m backed against the wooden low trim of the wall. Both of his large arms extend outward, his palms flat against the stones above my shoulders as he effectively traps me in place. 

I’m dumbfounded by the intimate proximity. A piece of me wants to tear my widened eyes from his, now a deep, syrupy red. But I feel delectably small below his gaze, and quite frankly can’t bring myself to move.

He finally continues, “Tell me the truth, (y/n). Were you tempted to laugh?”

I picture what I’d walked in on, and stifle a chuckle at the thought. “Yeah, absolutely.” 

Magnus sighs and rolls his eyes, but he laughs. A chill runs down my spine as I feel his breath on my face. 

“I suppose it was quite funny… nonetheless, no one hears of this,” he murmurs, a frustrated rasp adding depth to his already low voice. 

I’m unsure of who I'd even tell about this incident, given how few people here know who he is, but I reassure him anyway. “My lips are sealed.”

His eyes flicker down to my mouth, as if taking the phrase literally. They linger as he wets his own lips, seemingly tempted by the close quarters. Fuck, he has nice lips. Those stupid, smooth lips. They curl into a devilish grin before Magnus speaks again, and my cheeks feel hot as coal while my core fills with a familiar warmth.

“While I appreciate your honesty, I ought to punish you.”

My heart jumps into my throat. “Y-yeah? Why’s that, wizard?” 

Seeming either amused or pleased by my confrontation, he adds, “Indeed. You should know not to poke fun at such significant affairs.”

I roll my eyes. Since when is he so serious? Maybe I caught him on a bad day.

“Well…” I gnaw at my lip for a sec, hyping myself up to challenge him again. “How would you do it?”

Smirking, Magnus leans down a full, like, almost two feet or whatever the fuck it is to reach my ear, and mutters a quiet incantation against my lobe. I let out a shaky breath and wrap the sleeves of my sweater over my hands as his damp lips graze me. I have no time to be curious about the spell’s purpose. Magnus is so fucking close to me and it’s incredibly distracting.

Not asking questions was a biiig mistake.

The moment he stops talking, I’m overwhelmed with desire. Drunk off of it, even. It’s not the same tingles I had before, or ever, really — this is an insatiable, almost violent arousal. My breath hitches as he backs away, chuckling deviously. 

A few more seconds pass and I’m sweating. I’m in pain. My heart is racing. My lungs are practically convulsing. My head is spinning. I’m going to fucking die. 

“W-what did you do?” I ask. It comes out airy and whiny. “Magnus, what the fuck is this?”

“Punishment fit for a naughty apprentice, of course.” He says it so matter-of-factly. As if it’s just some normal, everyday thing, to be magically turned into a hornball for “punishment.”

My lungs and heart aren’t slowing down. Yoba. I must need water. Water will help, yeah?

I rush to the sink and splash my face, while Magnus writes down his findings from our junimo encounter nearby. 

This isn’t helping. 

I cup a bunch in my hand and begin to drink, not bothering to find a glass. No time for that. Need relief.

FUCK, this isn’t helping either.

I run my wet hands carelessly through my hair, pacing back and forth, before placing my forearms on his cauldron. If I just stare at the bubbles long enough it’ll relax me, yeah?

…Nope.

I breathe out deeply, but it sounds like a moan, as far as I can tell. There’s no trusting my judgment with such foggy hearing, albeit I can definitely make out the intrigued hum coming from the wizard nearby. I can’t be bothered to apologize for the noise because I can barely control myself anyways. I’m hardly able to see at this point, let alone form a sentence.

“Mmm–Mag… how do I… how…”

My words feel all jumbled. I’m a fucking trainwreck. I don’t want to be seen in this state, especially by Magnus, but I’m not keen on walking all the way back to the farm like this either. Don’t even feel safe using the stairs to go hide somewhere in the tower. Legs’re too wobbly. I continue pacing, hoping the movement will help drive away all the sensations going on inside of me, if not make my legs feel sturdier…

Nope. Not working either. Of course not!

I next find myself leaning against the pedestal off in the small corner room — the one that contains a grimoire for warp points and junimo huts and shit. I close the book, conscious to not accidentally create a village of tiny elemental fruits in the tower, and then lay across it, closing my eyes. Hoping it’ll end the spinning sensation, if nothing else.

But even with my eyes shut, I can still see, albeit in a dreamlike manner. 

I see visions of Magnus caressing my head softly as I take him down my throat. Looking down at me through musky eyes and an absolutely sinful grin.

Of our forms then tangled on the purple and red sofa downstairs as he fucks me senseless, a stark contrast to his hands gently worshiping my body. 

He’s pumping his length into me as he summons some sort of ghostly appendages to assist him on my clit, my breasts everywhere that he can’t reach, bringing me to the brink. Softly stroking my hair and telling me how good I’m taking him as I writhe against his body.

Fuck, this is so good… Ahh… I’m…!!

I open my eyes with a distressed gasp as I realize that I’m actually about to cum just to these delusions. 

Holy fucking shit.

I panic, refusing to follow through. Blue balling myself for the sake of my dignity… whatever the fuck that is anymore. My vision is still hazy as I attempt to seek out refuge. I don’t move – only peer around, hopeless in trying to find my bearings, clinging to the podium.

Magnus, who seems to have just begun working on some sort of new potion, seems distracted — maybe even fascinated — by me, as my eyes lustfully skim over his physique against my better judgment. 

It’s hard to tell through my current state, but his irises look red. Is he mad at me? 

He better not fuckin’ be, he did this to me!

He’s leaning over the cauldron as he observes me, his long and veiny hands clutching the pot in front of him. Magnus’ black tunic contrasts beautifully against his light gray skin… slightly unbuttoned to expose some of his chest, clinging to his waist perfectly, and the sleeves neatly rolled up his forearms. 

He looks irresistible, and I’m growing more fearful as my restraint dwindles over time.

Was I making noise? Is that why he’s watching so intently? Did I hysterically act out any of those mirages on myself in real time, or was it some weird phantom sensation?

Oh my god, did I think so loudly that he saw it all for himself?

“M-Mag.. Ah… please, ‘elp… I’m…” I groan, sliding to my knees as I’m overwhelmed with desire and exhaustion on the crystalline floor.

He saunters over, looking at first like a creature in a dense fog. But when he’s closer, god, he’s the only clear thing I can fucking see. It’s so hard not to throw myself at him. How strong is this curse?

“H-help…” I murmur, seeming to choke on air. 

He crouches before me as I sob on my hands and knees. Pathetically desperate for release. For his touch too — anywhere, really. 

Spirits in my favor, he brushes some hair from my face before lifting it up towards his own, dwindling me down to a whimpering mess.

“It’s going to be alright, my dear.” Magnus continues to play with my tresses as I nuzzle into his hand. This would be soothing if it wasn’t driving me mad with need. “If I’d been aware that this would have such a powerful effect on you, I would have never recited that spell…” Under his breath, he adds, “T’was only supposed to be a prank, of sorts.” 

Of course his studies on How To Mundane did this to me.

He sounds genuinely concerned, which is comforting in its own way, but I’m still just as annoyed as I am ravenous.

“Why… d-di’you…” I shudder as a hand moves to my cheek, wiping my tears away, “do this t’me?”

“I’m afraid this is your own doing.” 

I try to ask what the hell he means, but I just squeak. He seems to decipher it.

“That incantation in particular manifests uniquely from person to person,” Magnus explains. “It curses the spellbound to feel a savage desire towards whatever it is they craved at the time of casting.” 

…Oh.

“The only way to stop it is with a reversal spell, conducted by the enchanter… or to obtain whatever it is you desire so greatly.” 

Oh my god no. 

“O-oh. Great.” 

He huffs out a laugh that I can’t see. I focus on my breathing, keeping my eyes very open in order to avoid further embarrassment, as the cold floor soothes my sweaty palms.

“Most in your position would go running to retrieve the end to their suffering,” he adds softly. Knowingly. “So why is it that you’re still here, calling out my name?” His thumb strokes my cheek as I lean into the sensation. “Why do you seem to respond so… actively, to such a simple touch?” 

Magnus’ thumb trails to my trembling bottom lip. Running gentle lines across its chapped edges. Taunting me. It’s like he knows what I want. He probably read it straight from my head already. Either that, or I said some embarrassing shit while hallucinating before. The shame would make me want to cry, if it weren’t for the fact that I am crying already. 

“I… fuh. I-I don’t…” I try to form a sentence, but it’s hopeless. 

He cups both hands around my face and I swallow back a pitiful moan. I shift to sit on my legs, feeling too overwhelmed by his hands on me while I was in such a compromising position.

If he seems to care so much about my situation, then why won’t he undo this fucking spell? Why is Magnus just comforting me through the suffering instead of putting it to rest?

“Ple..please….” 

“Whatever you need, just say the words.”

You fucking know what I need! I think as I let out another ungodly noise of frustration. I sniff, hoping that I’m not ugly-crying too unfashionably.

“Fff… y-you…” I heave. “Fuck you.”

“Come, now, don’t be like that,” he jokes. 

I fall into his chest, groaning as I grasp at the thin cloth of his top, physically feeling unable to ask him to undo the curse. 

I don’t even think I want him to. 

I just want him. 

I need him.

He wraps his arms around my broken form and rubs my back.

“Sadist…” I mumble, muffled by the fabric and my blubbering. 

“Blasphemy.”

“B-bullshit!!”

Another laugh rumbles against my forehead. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop toying with you.”  

Thank go— oh. Nevermind.

He tilts my face back slightly to get a better look at me. Putting me on full display. One hand is close to my nape and the other is on the back of my head, wrapped in my hair. Magnus isn’t tugging, but the grip is killing me regardless. 

“I already know what you desire,” he lilts, tilting his head sadistically as his eyes morph into a seductive, blood-like shade of crimson again. 

He… he already… Oh. My eyes widen at his claim.

“I just want to hear you beg.” 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, that is so hot. 

He’s closing in, and my pulse spikes as I feel the heat of his lips settling so close to mine throughout his next, quiet request: “Will you indulge me, (y/n)?”

“I…” I’m at a loss for words. My breath is heavy as I try to muster up the courage. I need this to end. “M..mmm… puh… please…”

I whine as I press my forehead to his. Shivering. Screwing my eyes shut... 

Oh, that’s right, nevermind. All I can see when I do that is Magnus’ body on or below mine. 

Cool! 

Upon anxiously opening them back up, I see Magnus’ lips curl into an amused, lopsided grin.

“Please what, (y/n)?” His grip in my hair tightens. “Surely that vision of yours should serve as encouragement, no?”

Oh ok, so he has been seeing everything. Cool cool cool cOOL COOL COOL—

“Mag… I…” I shudder, my teary eyes panning to his for reassurance. “N-need you.”

My intoxicated mind almost forgot that he could undo this weird, horny curse that I basically inflicted upon myself whenever he wants, but he’s deliberately choosing not to. 

He wants this. 

He wants me.

And he proves it, too. The instant those words left my mouth, his lips were on mine. Our mouths’ movements against each other are smooth and gentle, yet impatient. Getting fussy, I use the fist on his shirt to bring him closer to me, pressing against him harder. Wanting more. Needing more.

Magnus suddenly pulls me atop him, positioning me to straddle his kneeling leg. I moan into his kiss in shock, not expecting him to so easily fling my body onto his; and then do so again, as my crotch makes even the lightest contact with his thigh. 

He responds to my hopeless whimpers by tugging my body closer to his. Magnus then emits a greedy, mischievous chuckle, which morphs into a satisfied hum. A hum that vibrates into my lips and shoots straight down through my tummy and between my thighs. 

Without putting any thought into it, I slowly begin to grind myself onto his lap. I gasp out of our kiss and lean my face into Magnus’ chest, whining and sobbing and cursing under my breath as I use his fucking leg to stimulate myself.

“Look at you…” His coo is laced with pity, driving me mad as I quiver against him. “I had no idea you were such a perverted little thing.”

I whine again and continue struggling to form the words to defend myself. But the need to have sex with the man I’m moving against is too fucking strong and this just feels too fucking good.

Magnus releases his hug on my body and trails his hands to my waist, assisting my movements. All it takes is his strong grip to send fucking flames through me. 

To ensure that this isn’t nearly enough. I need him on me, inside me, anything more than this. I don’t dare look at his face, terrified of how much I'm embarrassing myself. 

His hands trail from my hips to my outer thighs, rubbing soft and careful circles against them. He then inches his left hand across my right thigh, tantalizingly slowly. His fingers crawl underneath my skirt. When his thumb dips underneath the cotton cloth of my panties, reaching to the crevice where my thighs meet my torso, I could swear I saw Yoba.

And just when it seems as though I’ll get what I need, Magnus pulls away, opting to continue over the fabric.

“Ahh— no!” 

Another chuckle. “You poor, poor girl.” 

He still sounds like he’s taken pity on me, which is awfully aggravating, considering he’s willingly doing all of this to me. 

Magnus strokes his thumb lightly up the middle of my underwear. These poor things are probably a fucking mess. I cry out before biting his shirt to contain my sounds.

“Is this not enough to sate you?” he mocks, pressing the slightest bit harder. A moan bursts from me before I can even try to silence myself, and I push further into his touch. 

“N-no— oh fuh~” 

“Try again, my dear.”

Not sure if I need to concentrate more on talking or on moving myself against him, I try again. “P-please,” I squeeze out. 

I reach down with a trembling hand and push my panties to the side. I shift his stalling fingers to my exposed cunt, urging him for more. 

I meekly look him in the eye, wanting to communicate my needs to him in any way possible. His orbs are just as hungry as I’d imagine mine look, beaming at me like two freshly polished red quartzes. 

“Fuck,” he growls, a harsh blush coating his cheeks.

One of my hands holds the fabric aside while the other digs into his shoulder. Still gyrating against his lap, unable to last a single second without pleasure. I'm about to try my hand at verbally begging him for mercy again, but—

“Ahh, ple—mmmph!” 

Magnus silences me with his lips as he works my lower half at such a mind-numbing pace that I can’t tell if it feels good or if it’s too much. He heightens my senses further as he releases his mouth from mine and trails it down to my neck, peppering me with kisses and love bites wherever he pleases. 

“Fuck, Magnus!~”

That was… awfully articulate. Maybe the spell will wear off gradually as more of my needs are met?

Lost in bliss, I’ve been more conveniently repositioned without noticing. I’m now leaning into his shoulder as he fingerfucks up into me with one hand and roams my figure with the other, with my arms around his neck and my core lifted off of his leg.

He finds a pace and spot that work perfectly in unison from the new angle. The most indecent mewl I’ve ever heard comes from my mouth as I lose myself so wholeheartedly into his touch.

“Thaaat’s a good girl,” he praises against my ear. Making me shiver. Wanting more. “I have a proposition for you,” he continues, his voice dripping with pride. “I am going to count down from ten. If you could be a dear and cum on my fingers at exactly one, I’ll be sure to stuff your greedy cunt as belligerently as you’d envisioned me doing so.” 

Whoa, holy fucking shit. 

Those… those were words he just said. 

“Does that sound fair, (y/n)?”

“Ff— mhm, please,” I manage. 

After some more praise, he begins. It goes painstakingly slowly. My wanton cries are probably deafening in his ear, this poor wizard. As he approaches the final number, I feel myself tightening, and…

…

I jolt awake gasping the wizard’s name, clutching Eggy with a vice grip in the hand that had been on my friend’s shoulder moments ago. 

My sheets are drenched in sweat and, unfortunately, my arousal. Gross. What am I, a fucking teenager? I breathe heavily as I take in my surroundings, and cradle my lower abdomen, as if it’ll calm the heat pooling in it.

I’m home. I’m at the farm. That was all a dream… none of that was real.

None of it.

The unrelenting need for Magnus’ touch, to kiss Magnus, to fuck Magnus…

None of it… was…

Oh fuck.

[finclgicls]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 : emily atkins, early thirties, monica barbaro. 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 : inspired by lost—strangers stranded in a strange island. for this plot i'm looking for a dynamic like kate + sawyer, sort of like where there is a spark, there is a fire. they help her with medicine because she's been a lil hurt after the plane crashed. 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : strangers, at first. 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 : slice of life, but i'm sure we'll turn it into something else. don't have to have watched lost to reply to this. 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 : m ៸ masc of same age or older. this will be a romantic connection. please, don't like my starters ៸ let me know if you'd like a different muse.

equal parts scared and confused, emily walks around the place they made camp. it was weird finding that they had adjusted to the stranded life, even weirder to think some were losing their hopes already. none of them had come out unscathed from the crash, but some were definitely more optimistic than others. others, however, mainly the one whose tent she was heading towards, managed to scare everyone away with their off-putting personality. now, emily wasn't all shits and giggles, but she was trying her best to not show anyone any part of her that could be linked to her past life, to the fact that she had murdered someone, or even to the reason why she was in that plane, she had been caught. karma seemed to have out for her though, because after having stitched herself up and tried her best to keep it low-key, her wound was infecting, and she needed antibiotics which were in the tent no one dared to approach.

looking around to see whether or not she'd been followed, emily pressed on forward, feeling wobbly on her knees and hot, but she couldn't just collapse, by the time she woke up, chances were people would learn about why she was being escorted back to where she belonged, by a man of the law. but before she could even reach her destination, a twig broke behind her making her whip around, bad call, her hand flew to her stomach and pain coursed through her making her hiss and curse lowly. "heard you had medication in your tent, is it true?" her no-nonsense personality kept her from tiptoeing around the subject, even if it wasn't smart when the other riled her up considerably.

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

[kaytrawrites]

Enderman and the Bird

Summary In which Beau and Ranboo interact more

Story

t was raining pretty hard today.

Beau popped open her umbrella as she walked out of her half-finished house. Her feathers were perfectly waterproof, thank you very much, but it was not fun toweling off her hair after a rainstorm.

She was headed for the community stockpiles to grab some resources to work on her house when two familiar figures drew her attention.

Beau paused beside the tree, under which a miserable ball of Enderian was curled, and joined him in watching the happy Bee boy dance in the rain, singing something about rain, ducks and the previously stated miserable ball of Enderian.

Beau looked down (not very far, honestly) at Ranboo. “Need an umbrella?”

Ranboo glanced over at Beau. “Eh. I’m okay.” He looked back at the dancing Tubbo.

Beau huffed, and reached into her inventory bag and grabbed the extra one she carried around just in case. She stabbed the tip into the ground beside Ranboo. “Here.”

“Hmm!” Ranboo glanced over at her and nodded.

Beau nodded and headed off.

-oOo-

eau stared at the miserable ball of Enderian that was huddled under the pub entrance awning.

“Ya know, we need to stop meeting like this.” She quipped.

Ranboo chuckled and stared out at the heavy rain.

“Need an umbrella?” Beau asked, reaching into her inventory bag for the replacement of her extra umbrella.

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good.”

“You sure?” Beau insisted, pulling out the umbrella. She held it out.

Ranboo shook his head again. “I’ve still got the last…” He checked his inventory bag. “Eight you gave me.” He chuckled as he said the number. “You want them back?”

Beau smirked. “Nah. You hold on to them. I’ve got too many.”

“Well, so do I.” Ranboo quipped.

Beau nodded. “I would just leave 'em in the pub for anyone to grab when they need it.”

“You know, I think I’ll do just that.” Ranboo agreed. He paused, and stared out at the rain. “You know, when I first met you…”

Beau cocked her head, listening.

“I thought you were just as annoying as that other Chicken in the community.” He finished.

Beau punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” Ranboo yelped. He rubbed his arm where Beau had punched him.

“Oh, grow up.” Beau snarked, rolling her eyes.

“Okay!” Ranboo said cheerfully, standing from where he was sitting. The Enderian towered almost a meter above Beau.

“Now, sit down, ye overgrown twig.” Beau said, taking a step back so she didn’t have to look up quite so far.

“Okay!” Ranboo said, a cheeky grin on his face.

Beau shook her head. “You really are a cheeky lil’ git.” She grumbled.

Ranboo smirked. “I can stand again if you want.”

“Keep yer head at eye level!” Beau snapped back. “I would much rather not turn into Philza at my young age.”

The pair burst into unrestrained giggles.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Thinking back to when tour picked up again and all of us noticed the change in his demeanor and his little ad libs on stage and now I’m just like holy shit?? Were we right? Him going “yeah you will” after the line about never loving again is so cute now in this context it’s got me giggling and kicking my feet

awwww PLEASEEEE!!!!

Like, imagine if this is the first time he's fallen in love after twigs :(((( WHAT A CUTE BOY! I mean, we don't know, he could've had other attempts at relationships but if thats why he started doing those fun lil ad libs i want to burst into pieces I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY!