#mischievously presses a paw to my face

[meownotgood]

re masochistic aki :3c i hc that he likes to spar with you solely because it gives him an excuse to get your hands on him, to pin him down. he feels soooooo guilty about it but he can’t stop- he’s not letting you *win* but he’s certainly not giving it his all. it wouldn’t be as good if you both weren’t sweaty on the mat, your grin bright from winning, his hands over his head as your knee presses into his stomach. and afterwards when you’re so gentle to him, asking if you hit him too hard and he *insists* he’s taking harder but the second he’s back in the privacy of his own apartment he’s groaning and pressing on those fingertip-shaped bruises, grabbing his dick through his sweatpants and trying to keep from panting.., - 🍊

haven't been able to focus at work today because I can't stop thinking about this ask I want you to know that.

there's just something about sparring with aki, something about him offering to show you martial arts or teach you boxing. he'll always wear a tank top that shows off his scarred arms and his strong shoulders and a bit of his stomach when he stretches his arms upward, beads of sweat will cling to the back of his neck and his face after a while.

you can't shake the feeling he's going easy on you, or he at least doesn't want to hurt you. yet still, no matter how many times you do a move successfully, no matter how much you push him down or pin him to the ground he doesn't give up, nor does he try any harder — he just catches his breath, gives you a nod, and says, that was great. alright, let's go again.

it's because there's something about sparring with you that aki can't get enough of. it was innocent at first, he swears. he only wanted to teach you how to fight better, so you can defend yourself if something were to happen and he wasn't there. but he's far past the point of playing the innocent card anymore. he's so ridiculous, he'd die of embarrassment if you ever found out the true way he feels.

you can never know how much he likes it when you pin him down, your palm pressing his face into the floor. he'll blame how much he's sweating on the workout, he's breathing hard and his face is bright red because of how hot he is, that's all. and when he calls off your training session early, he says he's tired, claims he needs to rest, and that's true, but what he doesn't tell you is his head is spinning, he can't think about anything else but you, his whole body is tingling from something other than pain.

later, when he can't sleep, he recounts in his memory how you pinned him down, with your foot on his head and your hands roughly tugging his arms up. it hurt, but that's the whole point. that's the best part. aki breathes out a long sigh, swears to himself because he's already hard, he pushes his hair from his face with one hand and hesitantly slips the other down his pants, saying a silent prayer that you'll show up to train with him again tomorrow.

[mrs-ghost-2]

Suggestive themes! 18+ only!

Something something lumberjack!Simon being absolutely feral for you after a fight where he says something stupid and you slap him without thought.

You’re never violent. Have never raised your voice at him, or at anyone for that matter. You never cuss, never instigate, you’re polite. But him smarting off without thought and having you open-palm slap him across the face drove him insane. He barely felt it, barely registered it. But the thought of you being violent, that you did it because you felt something so strongly in regards to him, had him rock hard and absolutely foaming at the mouth.

Your eyes widen and you instantly start to apologize, but his mouth slanted across yours seconds later and it had the apology halting in the back of your throat. You’re putty in his hands, which is good because he’s pawing at your hips and ass while walking you backwards to press up against the hood of his truck.

“So fuckin’ hard for ya, sweet’eart.” Simon groans against your lips, teeth clashing and tongue sliding against yours in a dirty glide.

“M’sorry, Si. Didn’t mean to.” You’re able to mutter between rough passes of lips and teeth, but he’s just shaking his head as he wraps both hands around your hips to lift you onto the hood.

“Nothin’ t’be sorry for, lovie. S’my fault anyways.”he replies on a breath, slotting himself between your spread thighs and dragging his hands up your back to tangle in your hair. He’s using one hand to hold your neck while the other is tugging your hair back to arch your neck and jaw for his rough ministrations.

“M’not violent though. S’not right of me.” You try again, panting and sighing deep in your chest as his stubbled cheeks scratch at your skin while he sucks hickies and bite marks into the delicate skin of your throat and shoulder.

“Hot as fuck is wha’ it is.” Simon retorts, using the excuse of removing his mouth to talk to bite a little too hard into the meat of your collarbone.

“Fuck, Simon. Too hard.” But your hips are still rocking against his body where your legs are wrapped around his broad frame.

“Sorry, sweet’eart. My bad.” But he’s grinning mischievously, not really sorry at all.

You roll your eyes and laugh, wrapping your own hand around the back of his neck to bring him back in for another kiss and another taste.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Soft Spots

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, grumpy-soft Simon, cat adoption, reader being a little mischievous, domestic vibes, light cursing, Simon reluctantly becoming a cat dad.

Author's Note: I have cat dad Simon brain rot so… yeah

Summary: You drag Simon to an animal shelter, thinking you’ll be the one to choose a pet. But when a grumpy, battle-scarred tomcat and an energetic little kitten catch his eye, Simon unexpectedly becomes a cat dad. And maybe, just maybe, you realize that the two little furballs aren’t so different from the two of you.

Masterlist | Part 2

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

You had been working on Simon for weeks.

Ever since you passed the animal shelter with its brightly colored sign reading Adopt, Don’t Shop! and its adorable display of kittens in the window, you had been determined to bring a cat into your lives. Simon, however, had been resistant.

“Too much work,” he grumbled the first time you brought it up.

“You literally take care of me,” you shot back.

He had given you a deadpan look, arms crossed. “You’re already enough of a handful.”

Yet, despite his stubborn refusal, here you were—standing in the middle of the shelter, surrounded by cages, the air filled with the sounds of purring, meows, and the occasional yowl.

Simon stood beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes flicked over the various cats, unreadable as ever.

You expected yourself to be the one to choose. But then—

“This one,” Simon muttered.

You blinked, turning to see him crouched in front of a large metal cage. Inside sat a scruffy-looking gray tomcat with thick fur, a torn ear, and piercing yellow eyes. His expression was pure judgment.

“Wait—really?” you asked, stunned.

Simon barely glanced at you, still engaged in a silent staring contest with the cat. “Yeah.”

You stared at the cat—who stared right back with the same unimpressed energy as Simon.

“Well,” you said, crossing your arms. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you picked the grumpiest one here.”

Before Simon could respond, something small and fast darted across the cage—a fluffy white kitten with bright blue eyes. She tumbled right into Smokey’s side, letting out a high-pitched meow.

The older cat huffed but, instead of swatting her away, immediately started grooming her, licking her tiny head with exaggerated, slow strokes. The kitten let out a delighted purr and pressed closer, practically glued to his side.

“Oh my God.” You clutched Simon’s arm, eyes wide.

He stiffened slightly. “What?”

“They love each other. We can’t separate them.”

Simon exhaled through his nose. “We’re here for one cat.”

“You were here for one cat,” you corrected, still staring at the duo. The tiny kitten—whom you had already mentally named Beans—was now happily nuzzling against Smokey’s belly. Smokey, despite his grumpy demeanor, curled a protective paw around her.

It was too much. Your heart was melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Simon,” you said seriously, turning to him with wide, pleading eyes. “Look at them. That’s his baby.”

Simon hesitated. He turned back to the cage, watching the way Smokey let out a long-suffering sigh but continued to let the kitten crawl all over him.

A long silence stretched between you.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, Simon muttered, “...Fine.”

You beamed. “You’re gonna be the best cat dad.”

He shot you a look. “Don’t push it.”

—

Bringing them home was chaos.

Smokey took to the apartment like a battle-hardened veteran. He strode into each room with cautious, calculated steps, sniffing everything with a skeptical expression before settling himself on the couch like he owned the place.

Beans, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of pure energy.

She zoomed across the living room, her tiny paws skidding against the hardwood floor as she crashed into furniture legs, meowed at nothing, and repeatedly attempted to jump onto the couch—only to fall back down every time.

You watched, covering your mouth to stifle a giggle. “She’s like a menace in a tiny package.”

Simon, standing beside you with his arms crossed, let out a quiet huff. “Yeah. Reckon Smokey’s regrettin’ his life choices.”

As if on cue, Beans tried—and failed—to jump onto the couch yet again. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeak. Smokey, clearly unimpressed, simply reached down, grabbed her scruff, and pulled her up himself.

Your heart melted.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. You turned to Simon, eyes sparkling. “That’s you.”

Simon blinked. “What?”

“You and Smokey. Both grumpy, both act like you don’t care—but secretly, you’re soft.” You gestured at Beans, who was now gleefully kneading into Smokey’s side. “And she’s me. Clingy, loud, and never leaves you alone.”

Simon exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re not that bad.”

You grinned, nudging him. “Admit it. You love me.”

His arm slid around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re lucky I do.”

—

Days turned into weeks, and Simon’s resistance crumbled.

He acted like the cats were your responsibility, but you’d walk into the living room only to find him sitting on the floor, one hand absentmindedly scratching behind Smokey’s ear while Beans curled up in his lap.

Or you’d wake up in the middle of the night and see a lump under the blankets, only to pull them back and find both cats curled up against Simon’s chest, his hand resting protectively over Beans.

The real breaking point came when you caught him talking to them.

“Smokey, you let her get away with too much,” he muttered one evening, watching as Beans clambered onto his leg. “Gotta set boundaries, mate.”

Smokey flicked an ear, unbothered.

You leaned against the doorway, smirking. “Giving dad advice now?”

Simon sighed, but there was no real bite to it. “If I don’t, no one will.”

Grinning, you made your way over, sitting beside him on the couch. Beans immediately abandoned Smokey to crawl onto your lap, purring like a motor.

“You know,” you murmured, resting your head against Simon’s shoulder, “I was right. Smokey and Beans are just like us.”

Simon hummed, rubbing slow circles against your hip. “Think so?”

You nodded. “Yeah. You act all tough, but secretly, you’re soft. And me? I’m annoying but impossible to get rid of.”

Simon chuckled. “Never wanted to get rid of you.”

Your heart flipped. You turned to him, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Simon huffed, amused, but you could feel the warmth in his touch.

As if mirroring the sentiment, Beans let out a tiny, happy chirp and burrowed into your hoodie, while Smokey sprawled lazily against Simon’s side.

Yeah. You had officially turned Simon Riley into a cat dad.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[ladysharmaa]

Surprise

Anthoy Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Anthony's wife sometimes feels lonely while Anthony works. So he prepares a little surprise for Y/n

Requested: yes

The Bridgerton mansion was flooded with the now-weakening rays of the setting sun. Y/n was relaxing on the couch engrossed with a book, resting after a tiring day playing with her husband's younger siblings. For the first time that day, the house was completely silent.

However, Anthony Bridgerton was up to something. He had arrived about an hour ago, greeting her with a small kiss and quickly locking himself in his office.

Finally, she heard his footsteps heading towards where she was. His mischievous smirk and the odd lump beneath his greatcoat were telltale signs to anyone who might have been watching, but thankfully no one was home except for the couple and the maids.

She glanced up as he entered, her lips curling into a smile.

“Anthony,” she greeted warmly, placing a bookmark between the pages and setting the novel aside. “You look suspiciously pleased with yourself. What have you done this time?”

Anthony placed a hand over his chest, feigning indignation. “What makes you think I’ve done anything? Must a husband not simply look pleased to see his wife without suspicion falling upon him?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile growing. “Knowing you, the answer is most certain no.”

Chuckling, Anthony stepped closer, his coat shifting ever so slightly. A faint noise—a soft, high-pitched squeak—escaped from within the fabric. Y/n froze, her eyes narrowing.

“Anthony,” she said slowly, her tone a mixture of curiosity and warning, “what is that sound? What did you do?”

Anthony’s grin widened as he knelt before her, his hands carefully reaching inside his coat. “I thought you might like a little company when I’m away at those tedious meetings with the other lords.” he said. “And so…”

With an almost uncontained enthusiasm, he withdrew a tiny puppy from the folds of his coat. The animal was impossibly small, with fur as soft as clouds and a pair of bright, curious eyes. It let out another soft mew, its tiny paws reaching for the edge of Anthony’s sleeve.

Y/n gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Anthony!” she exclaimed, her voice high with delight. “You didn’t!”

“I most certainly did,” he replied, his own heart swelling at the joy lighting up her face. “Meet your new companion, my love.”

Y/n reached out, gently cradling the puppy in her hands. The little one nuzzled against her fingers, purring contentedly. “Oh, Anthony,” she murmured, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “It’s perfect. She’s perfect. I don’t even know what to say.”

“‘Thank you, Anthony, for being the most thoughtful and dashing husband in all of England’ would suffice,” he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

Y/n laughed, the sound soft and melodious. “Thank you,” she said earnestly, her gaze meeting his. She kissed his lips, trying to show him all the love she felt for him. When she pulled away, his lips chased hers. “Truly. This is the sweetest surprise.”

Anthony settled himself on the couch beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they both admired the puppy. It was now batting at the ribbon on Y/n’s sleeve, its movements clumsy and utterly endearing.

“Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Anthony asked, watching as the puppy made himself comfortable on Y/n's chest, who kept all her attention on the animal. Maybe that had been a bad idea, now he would have to compete for his wife's attention.

Y/n tilted her head, considering. “Hmm. What about Honey? She’s so cute and sweet.”

“Honey,” Anthony repeated, testing the name. He nodded approvingly. “It suits her.”

For a while, they sat together in comfortable silence, the golden light of the setting sun streaming through the windows. Y/n petted the animal while Anthony watched the two with a soft gaze. Honey had settled herself into Y/n’s lap, her tiny body rising and falling with contented breaths.

Anthony reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from Y/n’s face. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Y/n,” he whispered, as to not break the comfortable moment, his voice filled with warmth. “If a puppy can bring you even a fraction of that happiness, then it was worth every moment of sneaking around.”

Y/n leaned into his touch, her heart full. “You bring me happiness every day, Anthony,” she replied. “But this little one is certainly a wonderful addition.”

As Honey let out a tiny snore, Anthony and Y/n exchanged a look, their laughter filling the room. In that moment, surrounded by warmth and love, they knew they had found the kind of joy that could only come from the simplest, most unexpected surprises.

[kittykittyneowmeow69]

Stupid game II

MDNI

John price x journalist reader

Cw: noncon, unprotected piv,cum eating, the word grape used, oral fixation, brat taming of you squint, oral on M, basically all smut

Obsessed with the idea of a morally righteous journalist!reader who sticks her nose in Prices’ business , only to find out how he takes care of pretty little muckrakers who stick their paws where they don’t belong.

Notes: my first noncon scene, huge thanks to @ghouljams for helping get me through it.

Part 2 <<Part 1

Under the guise of morally righteousness ,the need to maintain the chimera of an inherently just world, You were fundamentally driven by the rush when you teetered on the razor sharp edge of danger, a dark cloud of peril followed you— the lighting could strike any time , almost inevitably because of mischievous disregard you had for power.

(Brazen or stupid, you knew you were a glorified canary in coal mines , sounding alarms about the noxious which was fated to consume you)

————

This, this is it. He is quick, before you can even blink, he is onto you. His gaze boring into yours, blistering hot, hypnotic ,turning you to stone, he looks like half god-half beast, carved in the image of a megalomaniac king, you feel minute, a spec,like your bones were made of crystalline ice, melting , disintegrating into nothing .

His rough, weathered paw swallows your arm , fingers digging through the soft flesh, bursting the tiny blood vessels , bruising, tainting you already. Your face mere inches away as he pulls you into his chest, his breath thick with tobacco, nicotine , stale smoke.

It’s all too much, you feel unsteady, feeble, untethered to your own body, almost grateful for the lingering grounding ache from his unyielding grip on your arm.

(Your cunt pulses,blistering hot, leaking into your panties, dampening the lacy fabric, which rattles you, purely physiological response, you suppose panic stricken and unassured. )

“Cat’s got your tounge ,huh?…had so much to say “ he hums, dark ,pupils dilated, hungry for your little exasperated gasps escaping through parted lips, the flutter of your wet lashes. “Too late now sweetheart….wouldn’t do you any good.” He muses, voice syrupy,dripping with what could only be lust.

“So what now, are you going to rape me”

You spit, breathless, feeble, with as much weight in your voice as you could muster (and little conviction), in such a blunt, abrupt manner that it momentarily off-balances him. Stupid girl. The flicker of unease in his gaze turns to seething rage, he lets go of your arm, threading his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull, grabbing a fistful,pulling— revealing your neck.

He momentarily pauses —taking in the delicate curve, your pulse, considers sticking his canines into your jugular, marking the soft flesh, instead settles on hiking up your dress with his other hand shoving it down your panties,cupping your mound.

It’s absurd really, almost pornographic how little, how soft your wet pussy is in his bearish paw.

Humiliation, arousal, shame, fear ,floods your veins, searing and chilling you in the same breath, twisting through you like a slow-burning fire. John growls, guttural, running his thick fingers through your sopping folds, back and forth, circling your fluttering hole, collecting the viscous slick. when he pauses , lightly pressing your pebbled clit, your breath hitches.

“fuckin hell” he sighs , his gaze smouldering, so laden with want that it threatens to asphyxiate you.

“Rape huh? as if I couldn’t smell ‘ur little cunt from ’cross the room.” He grunts while holding up his sticky fingers in a garish display of the mess you made. The viscous, syrupy slick clings to his fingers webbing between them, translucent, pearlescent glops glistening in the faint warm light.

“Please” you whimper, cottony soft, shame drips out of your pores staining your lash line with dew,you almost feel like a gulitly , tail tucked puppy caught red handed, for peeing on the carpet. Though before you can run your mouth more, he shoves his fingers between your parted lips, pressing against your tongue. You can taste the brine on his skin, the soot ,the earthy taste of your sex.

It’s slow, almost intimate how he inspects your lax mouth, running his fingers over your teeth, gums, the roof of your mouth, your uvula, leisurely shoving them down your throat. With his other fist still tugging your hair, he can feel your throat clenching, muscles flexing,swallowing around his thick fingers. Drool leaks out of the sides of your mouth, down your chin , jaw, glistening around curve your neck, chest.

“Little more sweetheart, sure ‘ave done this before hmm” , he murmurs, pleased , finally gaging you when he shoves his fingers down to the last knuckle, yanking you hair fisted in his other palm, properly taking you in.

He likes the look of you now, eyes drenched, glassy, heavy drops of tears slipping down , mascara streaking your pretty face, drool running down your swollen lips, chin,neck,it’s almost too much for him to take in, you look ruined, tainted. It makes his cock stir.

“What —what are you doing?” You squeak, as he spins you, caging you between the wall, and himself,pressing you against his body. One hand grabs your throat, applying light pressure, so he can tilt your head, and look down at your pretty, sullied face.

“Nothing you don’t deserve” he growls under his breath, a dark rumbling chuckle escapes him, reverberating through your body.

Warm light flickers across his face, the shadows make him look so intense that it deeply unnerves you, big fat tears roll down your cheeks. Much to your dismay your cunt pulses, slick drooling down your inner thighs.

“Just —just fuck me and get this over with already“. You whimper, which gets you a hard sharp smack on your bare ass, stinging pain spreads over the supple skin, his fingers into your ass cheeks, causing you to yelp.

“Fuck’in brat” he growls, through gritted teeth, more to himself ,than to you. He yanks at your thong until it rips and shoves it in your mouth, his hand wrapping around your mouth to keep it in. The other digs into your arm.

“Yeah...better for you to shut up” he rasps, as he slots his engorged head against your sloppy hole, little involuntary sounds escape you, muffled by your panties, he enters you in a single thrust, bullying as much of his thick cock in your tight little cunt as he can. A guttural, animal growl escapes him, reverberating through your body.

The stretch , the burning sting, is all-consuming ,so overwhelming that you are rendered silent, his length so deep inside you that you can feel it piercing through your guts.

“Fuck…little cunt’s strangling me love” he drawls , hot breath wafting into your cheek, he goes deeper, deeper, rim pulled taut around his girth,until his cock head nudges your cervix. You feel like you are going to tear apart, shatter into a million pieces. Your pussy flutters, aching to be ruined.

He is fucking you in earnest now, pounding your hole, powerful thrusts pushing you into wall, his scent, stale musk, cologne, tobacco, soot, smoke engulfing you, you feel like you are intertwining with his very being, untethered from your body, the pain, pleasure, fear, anger too much to process, when your brain is mush,leaking out of your ears unable to form a thought beyond him and his cock.

“ yeah, that’s it , take it, take it all, perfect girl, made for me , ain’t you love” the praise makes you clench, mewl , like a domesticated cat, the veins of his cock, gliding against your gummy walls, your cunt creaming around him, a frothy ring forms around the base.

It’s all too much, your knees buck, you feel like a new born fawn, unsteady and feeble. The pleasure mounts, coil tightening and tightening, your pussy strangling his cock so tight that his relentless thrusts slow down. “Yeah ..sweetheart , just let it go, come on now” ,he groans, planting wet kisses on your temple , while squeezing your throat, a weird juxtaposition really. But that does it the coil releases , pleasure spreads like wildfire, burning through you, your body violently spasms in his hold , knees buck, the little strength you had drains through your pores.

“That’s it..Good. Fucking. Girl” , he fucks you through your orgasm, harsh thrusts rattling your bones, he has somehow managed to fit his entire length into your hole.Heavy balls slap against rump, you are in earnest liquid now anchored up only by his cock spearing into you and the wall.

“Yeah…going to fill you up love , that’s what you wanted huh?” He grunts,practically using your limp body as a flesh light now, thursts getting rougher more frantic, until you feel his cock pulsing, throbbing , and hot spurts of cum filling you up, coating your insides.

He pauses for a moment, arms wrapped around you, holding up your body, plugging you with his softening cock. You whimper around the fabric in your mouth as he pulls out, his come floods out of your fluttering hole leaking onto the floor.

You drop on your knees with a loud thud as he lets go of you, your body limp and boneless, wet panties still in your mouth, haziness, hypoxia,endorphins coursing through your flesh. Adrenal exhaustion washes over you, you feel like your neurons are fried, unable to even conjure fear. He grabs you by your hair presenting his half hard wet cock to you.

Now that you see it, it’s a big thick veiny thing with engorged angry head. His balls are hairy,heavy,sagging because of the weight. It makes you drool.

“Yeah, sweetheart …clean daddy up, come on now, good girl” , you look at him with big wet eyes, and take his mushroom head in your mouth, gently suckling the tip, running your tongue over his weeping slit, the briny taste of left over cum makes your cunt pulse. You slowly lave your tongue over his shaft, feeling the velvety skin, the ridges of his veins, even take his big hairy balls in your mouth, gently sucking one at a time, tasting yourself on him. You feel emancipated finally relenting to your lust.

You feel his fist yank your hair so you can look at him, his cock still in your mouth.

“Keep doing that and it’s not going to end well for you love ”

so you respond by , slowly lowering your mouth until his entire shaft is lodged in your throat, delicate muscles taut against his girth, clenching, flexing, nose flat against the dark curls, above his shaft.

This is bad, bad.

[redvexillum]

I wasn’t planning on posting any stories this month since I’m still on a bit of a break, but with everything going on in America right now, I just felt the need to reach out. I know there’s nothing I can do to change things, and this may seem small and silly, but writing is what I know how to do. And if even one story can bring a smile or a bit of comfort to my friends, then I want to share it with you. Please hang in there. You’re not alone.

PART 01. CATASTOR AND HIS NEW DO

|| TABLE OF CONTENT

The mirror reflected back a tired version of you, someone with hair that seemed almost weary itself—dull, brittle, lifeless. It felt as if it siphoned off the vibrance around it, capturing any glimmer of light and snuffing it out. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes in concentration, pondering whether today might finally be the day to give it a fresh look, a touch of sparkle.

“Nyaahh,” came the unmistakable squeak from behind you. There was Catastor, your mischievous little companion, perched primly on the dresser. From his place in the reflection, his big, round eyes stared outward in comical opposite directions, his pink tongue lolling out as he mimicked your tilted head with an exaggerated, inquisitive look.

“Baby!” you called, your heart swelling with warmth as you spun around, arms open wide. The sound of your voice was enough to make his tail wag wildly, his body nearly vibrating with excitement. Without hesitation, he launched himself at you, his small, warm body landing like a soft, cozy blanket against your chest, his form molding against you with the comfort of melted cheese.

A purr reverberated through him as he nestled closer, pressing his face into your neck, his ears flattened in absolute contentment while his tail swayed in erratic, delighted rhythms. You ran a hand absentmindedly over his back, savoring the soft fur beneath your fingertips. His warmth seeped into you, a soothing weight that melted the day’s tension as his purring grew, a low, comforting rumble.

“I’m thinking of getting my hair done,” you mused, fingers trailing through his soft coat. His purrs only deepened, and the faint tug of relaxation settled over you like a spell, easing every muscle into stillness.

Catastor blinked up at you, each eye fluttering in its own haphazard rhythm. You chuckled at his antics, reaching down to tap his little nose. “What do you think? Should I cut my hair?” You knew he couldn’t actually answer, but you enjoyed these small conversations; there was a special solace in talking to him, as if he understood more than he let on.

In response, he stretched his neck, bringing his face to yours, then gave the tip of your nose a tiny lick before plopping his head over your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook between your neck and shoulder. A small laugh bubbled up as his soft fur brushed against your cheek, the feel of his familiar warmth filling you with a calm contentment.

After a moment, you lowered yourself onto the bed, trying to peel him off of you, but Catastor flopped onto the mattress with an exaggerated stretch, limbs splayed like a second blanket, his belly exposed and tail twitching in lazy arcs.

“Well, I’ll be getting my hair done today, so I’ll need you to watch the house while I’m gone,” you murmured, giving his soft belly a gentle scratch. His eyes drifted shut, head lolling back as a new wave of purrs filled the room, his front paw giving a contented twitch.

“I’ll even bring a treat back from Cannibal Town,” you promised, your heart melting as his purrs softened, his form going limp, edging on sleep. Catastor always struggled with separation, and more than once you’d found him nestled secretly in your hair after shrinking himself down to follow you. So, you’d learned to wait until he was fully asleep before attempting a quiet exit.

As his breathing deepened, his little paws twitching as if in a dream, you held back a giggle and rose carefully. Holding your breath, you tiptoed to the door, gently closing it behind you. Outside, you finally released a long sigh, the crisp air filling your lungs. You loved his protective nature, but he’d once torn apart a whole street after a gang had tried to hassle you. As grateful as you were for his fierce loyalty, his fervor sometimes led to more trouble than you bargained for.

Keys and wallet in hand, you glanced back toward your room, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Sweet dreams, baby,” you whispered softly. “I’ll be back soon.”

At the salon, you were greeted by Mel, the ever-charming Poodle Sinner who had a reputation for her wickedly red lipstick and long, flirtatious lashes, popping her gum with every word. She tossed her towel over one shoulder with practiced ease, flashing you a wide grin.

“Darling!” she greeted, smirking as she chewed her gum. “’Bout time you came back, hah!” With a wink, she gestured toward the chair, deftly laying out her trays of potions and lotions, each bottle filled with promises of shine, volume, and glamour.

“What’re we doing today, hun?” she asked, fingers weaving through your hair as she examined it with a critical eye. “My, you’ve let her grow!” She gave an exaggerated cluck of her tongue when she caught on a knot, making you wince. “Now, don’t you worry, we’re gonna make you shine like a star again.”

As you settled in, you couldn’t help but imagine Catastor napping peacefully at home, dreaming of treats and waiting loyally for your return.

You laughed nervously, watching Mel's smirk in the reflection as she raised a brow, eyes full of mischief. The cold mist from her spray bottle caught you off guard, sending a shiver down your spine as your shoulders jolted. Slowly, you settled back into the chair, letting yourself relax as she worked her fingers through your hair. “I was thinking…maybe some curls?” you mumbled, cheeks warming as a certain image flickered to mind—one of a tall, red-haired demon with that wily smile and fluffy ears.

“Oh my!” Mel snickered knowingly, brushing through your hair in slow, precise strokes. “There’s a new man in your life, isn’t there?”

Immediately, your cheeks flamed, and your gaze dropped to your hands, fingers twisting together as you stammered, “N-no! Nothing like that, really…he’s just, uh…just my boss.” But your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every word. The thought of admitting any hint of interest, even to your friend, left you shy and tongue-tied.

“Say no more, sweetheart,” Mel trilled in a sing-song voice, dismissing your excuses with a wink. “I’ll make you look like a knockout!”

A tiny squeak escaped you, your face now red as a tomato. “It’s not—it’s really nothing like that!” You tried to argue, though the grin tugging at Mel’s lips made it clear she didn’t buy a word of it. Before you could protest further, she gave your head a light pat, her smile bright and warm. You couldn’t help but smile back, the joy in her laughter lifting you from your shyness.

As Mel worked, the usual salon gossip filled the air, talk of the latest mischief and drama from the East Side of Pentagram. She’d been one of your first friends in this strange place—a friendly face in the chaos of Hell. You remembered that first day, scared and alone, stumbling into her salon. Now, as you sat there, chatting and laughing with her, you felt a happiness and warmth that chased away any lingering loneliness.

The smell of her berry-scented products wrapped around you as she applied them, each brushstroke feeling like a balm. And despite yourself, your thoughts drifted back to your boss—the Radio Demon. Would he be surprised to see you tomorrow, all dolled up with new curls? Maybe he’d even…like it?

Your hands pressed together, a hopeful smile spreading across your face as you imagined the look on his. You could practically see his eyebrow raise, his grin widening in that sly, amused way.

After what felt like hours, a sharp gasp broke your reverie. Mel had jumped back, a look of shock on her face. “Oh, honey, there was a…pest in your hair!” she exclaimed, eyes wide.

Confused, you frowned, tilting your head. A pest? Before you could ask, a loud, indignant yowl rang out from behind you, and you felt something shift in your hair. In a flash of pink, something furry tumbled forward, landing on the floor in a poof of exaggerated volume.

Your mouth dropped open as you stared down. There, standing in a mound of fluffy, pink fur—puffed out so large he looked like a living cotton candy puff—was Catastor. His fur had poofed to double its usual size, the familiar outward-pointing eyes and red monocle nearly swallowed up by the mass of fluff. His wide grin only made the sight more ridiculous.

“Catastor!” you gasped, dropping to your knees as he waddled toward you, his puffy paws kneading at your knee in that familiar, pleading gesture for comfort.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, scooping him up and pressing him close. His fur was so soft and squishy it felt like sinking into a plush cloud, your arms disappearing into the sheer volume of fluff. He burrowed his head against you, the tremble in his yowl finally quieting as you gently stroked his back.

“Oh, my, Satan,” Mel laughed, eyes twinkling. “You’re holding a walking ball of cotton candy!”

You looked down at Catastor, his little face half-buried in his own fur, his yowl softening to little meows. The sight of him, so utterly ridiculous and adorable, sent a wave of giggles through you. “Looks like we both got a spa day today,” you teased, scratching under his chin. His eyes drooped, his purrs growing content and low.

“I know just the thing!” Mel said with a playful wink, disappearing behind the counter. She returned with matching ribbons, one for each of you. Gently, she tied a little bow around the small, perfect curl atop Catastor’s head, then expertly fastened the other bow in your newly styled curls.

Turning back to the mirror, you burst into another fit of delighted giggles. Your hair looked amazing, vibrant and full, bouncing with every movement, and in your arms was Catastor, fluffy and bow-adorned to match.

You cradled him close, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, a happiness that lifted you. Tomorrow, you would see your boss…Alastor, with your new look, confident and refreshed. And maybe…just maybe…he’d notice.

But for now, you were content to just sit here with Catastor, your matching bows and poofy styles reflecting the joyful, silly energy you felt bubbling over.

NEXT ->

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[thatdammchickennugget]

Hiii,I've stumbled over your Gary,the racoon stories with Theo and got a really cute story idea.

Imagine this:

Rainy day in Hogwarts and reader and Theo are cuddling and just being sappy with eachother and Gary comes to join them cuddling- like a little cuddle pile

This popped in my head,I thought I'd be cute <3

pairing -theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings - fluff, established relationship

a/n - loved this idea! you were right, it's adorable 💕

wordcount - 696

The rain was relentless, cascading down the tall windows of your dorm like waterfalls, blurring the view of the stormy grounds outside. The soft patter of droplets against the glass blended with the occasional creak of the ancient castle walls and the distant hum of thunder. Most students had taken shelter in the common rooms, but you and your boyfriend had claimed the warmth of your bed, wrapped up in blankets and each other.

The Slytherin was sprawled against the headboard, his long legs stretched out under the thick quilt. He’d abandoned the book he had been reading in favor of wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. You leaned into him, your head tucked under his chin, the warmth of his embrace a perfect contrast to the chill in the air. His jumper was soft against your cheek, and his scent—all cedarwood and fresh parchment—was a comfort you could never get enough of.

“You’re hogging the blanket again,” Theo murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You turned your head to look up at him, meeting those stormy eyes that always made your heart flutter. “I’m not hogging it,” you said with mock indignation. “You’re just bad at sharing.”

“Lies,” he said with a soft smirk, tugging the blanket slightly to cover himself better. “But I’ll forgive you. For now.”

You rolled your eyes, though the grin on your face betrayed your amusement. “How generous of you, Nott.”

Theo tightened his arms around you in response, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Very generous. You should be grateful.”

Before you could retort, a soft chittering sound broke the cozy silence. Both of you turned to see Gary waddling towards the bed from his little nest he had built out of clothes and pillows by the wardrobe. He was carrying what appeared to be the small stuffed bear you had brought with you back in your first year, his ringed tail swishing behind him.

“Gary, no,” Theo said with a groan, though his lips twitched in amusement. “Where did you even find that?”

Gary ignored him, instead climbing onto the bed with surprising agility. He plopped himself down on the quilt, right between the two of you, and chittered again, looking up at you both with his bright, mischievous eyes.

“Looks like he’s decided to join the cuddle session,” you said, laughing softly as Gary pawed at the blanket, making himself comfortable. “Scoot over, Theo. Make room for him.”

Theo sighed, though it was more fond than exasperated. “Unbelievable. I’m being replaced by my own raccoon.”

“Not replaced,” you corrected, adjusting the blanket so it covered the raccoon as well. “You’re just sharing. Like I do with the blanket.”

Theo’s mock glare melted into a smile as Gary settled in, his small body pressed against your side. With a little shuffle, Theo leaned back into the pillows, pulling you closer so that the three of you were a tangled pile of warmth and contentment.

The rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, a soothing backdrop to the quiet moment. Theo’s fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, and Gary let out a soft, almost purring sound as he nestled closer.

“You know,” Theo said after a long stretch of silence, his voice a murmur against your hair, “I could get used to this.”

“Cuddling with me or Gary?” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Both,” he replied, his lips quirking into that soft smile he reserved just for you. “Though I have to admit, you’re my favorite.”

Your chest warmed at his words, and you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing against the faint stubble there. “Good answer.”

Gary let out a little huff, as if annoyed by the lack of attention, and Theo chuckled. “Alright, mate, you’re a close second. Happy now?”

The raccoon chittered again, his tail flicking as he burrowed deeper into the blanket. You and Theo shared a laugh, and the three of you settled back into the quiet comfort of the rainy afternoon, a little pile of love and warmth against the storm outside.

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

[daydreamingoveracupofcoffee]

Pleaze PLEASE P L E A S E writte more content about aizawa, ure so great at it! Please, whenever u can!

"The cat's dad"

Aizawa trudges through the door of their shared apartment, his capture scarf draped loosely around his shoulders and his eyes heavy with the weight of a long day at U.A. High. The faint scent of coffee and catnip lingers in the air, a sign that [reader's name] been home for a while. Before he can even kick off his boots, he hears her voice—bright and teasing—from the living room.

“Hooray, papa’s back!” a woman chirps, holding up their sleek black cat, Kuro, whose yellow eyes blink lazily at Aizawa. She lifts the cat higher, pressing its soft cheek against Aizawa’s scruffy one in a playful nuzzle. Kuro lets out a half-hearted “mrrp”, clearly more interested in the warmth of women's arms than the reunion.

Aizawa freezes mid-step, one eyebrow twitching upward as he processes the scene. Papa? His gaze flicks from women's mischievous grin to the cat, who’s now squirming slightly but not enough to escape her hold. He exhales through his nose, a mix of exasperation and resignation.

“Really?” he deadpans, his voice low and gravelly, as he drops his bag by the door. “You’re making me the dad of that freeloader?” He nods toward Kuro, who yawns as if on cue, exposing tiny fangs.

The woman laughs, undeterred, and cradles Kuro like a baby, rocking the cat gently. “Oh, come on, Shota. Our child is perfect. Look at this face!” She holds Kuro out again, this time angling the cat’s unimpressed expression toward him.

Aizawa stares at the cat, then at the woman, his lips pressing into a thin line to suppress the faintest hint of amusement. He’s not one for cutesy antics, but her energy has a way of wearing him down, like water eroding stone. Plus, Kuro does look annoyingly content in her arms—more than when Aizawa’s the one scooping up the cat after a late patrol.

“Perfect at stealing my spot on the couch,” he mutters, brushing past them toward the kitchen. But as he passes, his hand grazes Kuro’s head, fingers lingering just long enough to scratch behind the cat’s ears—a small betrayal of his affection. The woman catches it and smirks, following him with Kuro still in her arms.

“Admit it,” she says, leaning against the counter as Aizawa pours himself a glass of water. “You love being papa to our little family.”

He shoots her a sidelong glance, his dark eyes narrowing. “Call me that again, and I’m giving the kid up for adoption.” His tone is dry, but the corner of his mouth twitches upward, barely perceptible.

She gasps dramatically, clutching Kuro to her chest. “You wouldn’t dare! Kuro’s our precious child!” The cat, unbothered, starts licking its paw, clearly indifferent to the mock custody battle.

Aizawa sets his glass down, turning to face her fully. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing grumble. “Keep this up, and you’re sleeping on the couch with ‘our child’ tonight.”

The woman sticks out her tongue, but her eyes sparkle with laughter. She sets Kuro down, and the cat immediately trots over to Aizawa, weaving between his legs with a soft purr. He glances down, betrayed yet again by the cat’s timing, and sighs.

“Traitor,” he mumbles under his breath, but he bends down to scoop Kuro up, holding the cat against his chest as he heads for the couch. The woman follows, plopping down beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“See?” she whispers, poking his arm. “Perfect little family.”

Aizawa doesn’t respond, just lets Kuro settle in his lap as he leans back, eyes half-closed. But his hand rests lightly on [reader's name]’s knee, a quiet acknowledgment that maybe—just maybe—he doesn’t mind this ridiculous setup as much as he pretends.

[endless-ineffabilities]

there's hope for us yet - (2/2)

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader

The reader realizes that her true Anakin will always exist, in some spark or another, however miniscule. And she reconciles with what she must do in order to get him back.

masterlist ▪︎ part one

GIF by nerdside

When your eyes open once more, you're lying on something soft.

A sense of familiarity eases in as your fingertips glide on the silk sheets underneath you. And that scent. Which can only be...

"What were you dreaming about?"

Your head falls to the side, slowly, dreading what you'll see. Because you know, without a doubt, it's all going to break your heart.

Anakin lies on his side, with his torso bare and his head propped up on one sturdy arm, looking at you all starry-eyed.

Like he always had.

You can help but let out a shaky sigh. Why did I have to lose this? Why did I have to lose you?

He notices the switch in your expression. And as if he's heard your thoughts, he whispers, "I'm here, stardust. I'm never leaving you."

But you did.

You sit up halfway, and find yourself saying, "What about all that you said? About Senator Palpatine? If you... if you truly believe that, Ani, then I could... " I could lose you. Your words echo in your head. He must have heard them to be meaningless ploys.

"You don't understand, stardust. I'm doing this for us. For you! This way, we can be together forever. Nothing can take you from me."

You lean forward, gripping his hand tightly. "Nothing will, Ani. Your visions won't come into fruition. You're not gonna get rid of me that easy, you know." You smirk at him to assuage his concerns, but his frown stays in place.

You massage your thumb in between his ruffled brows, in a show of easing the tension in his expression. "I love you," you breathe.

"I love you, stardust," he says, his voice breaking with emotion. He presses his forehead to yours. And then, his lips on your own.

His breathing is heavy, his mouth frantic. His hair falls forward, casting shadows on the sharp angles of his face.

I love you, he keeps saying. Though he claims your lips again and again, before you can get the chance to say it back.

Your fingers tangle in his unruly blonde tresses, anchoring themselves as he slides down and nips at your collarbone. His hand dips inside your blouse, gently pawing at your chest.

When he looks up at you with his mischievous smirk, you nearly forget where you are. You want to.

"Ani..."

I want this to be real.

"It is real," Anakin responds without missing a beat. He lowers himself further, hands gripping your hips. His fingers trace a line underneath the waistband of your trousers. "Give in to me, my stardust. This can be as real as we want it to be."

"Now is not the time..." Your words halt when he presses his lips to your hipbone.

"Why not?" Anakin purrs, then proceeds anyway. His breathing is warm against your skin, as he carefully starts to undo your trousers.

It certainly feels real. Any world, any reality - Anakin Skywalker will always have the ability to set you afire.

Your stomach is in knots, in equal parts excitement and anxiety. You want to focus on him and only him, but your gaze is directed towards the ceiling. Or lack thereof. All you see is an apparent simulation of the night sky, with thick gray clouds to reveal a storm simmering and waiting to unfold.

You were so caught up in Anakin that you failed to notice your surroundings.

"Where are we, Anakin? This isn't your suite."

He sighs, shaking his head. "That's what you're thinking about?"

Lightning flashes overhead. Dread rips into you as it casts a glow above everything. It had been only for a split second, but it was enough.

The sky glowed red. You see much clearer now.

"Let me take your mind off it, stardust." Anakin had pulled himself up suddenly, covering your line of sight. Everything, like always, is just him.

He grips your jaw in one hand, forcing you to look right at him.

"Anakin..." your voice is a low warning him. You notice how it sounded more of a question. Your guard is up, your hands bunched up into fists at your sides, no longer lovingly pressed against him. Suddenly, the comforting feel of the silk sheets feels like a betrayal. A lie.

"Kiss me," Anakin purrs. His lips take yours, roughly. His teeth clashing against yours in the movement. "This is all I want. You're all that I want." He grows frustrated when you don't kiss him back. Almost rabid. One hand keeps your face against him, while the other freely roams all over your body. His fingernails dig into the flesh of your thighs. "Say you're mine."

"No," you struggle to take a breath, squirming underneath his solid form. "You wanted something more. And now you have it."

"Because of you," he implores. "I did everything for you."

"I never wanted you to cross over into the dark side." Rage is evident in your shaking voice. You find your strength and propel yourself from underneath him, footsteps carrying you away from the bed. He follows suit but you put your hand up. "Stop." He doesn't listen. When has he ever?

For me? How dare he blame me?

Anakin reaches you once more, looking pained. That familiar frustrated furrow in his brow making him look youthful. Almost vulnerable.

Like that brazen young Padawan whom you met a long time ago. The one you fell in love with.

You wait for him to speak. To begin his tirade. He was fuming just a minute ago, surely he has some lovely things to share. About the past. About what you lost. What he sacrificed it all for.

The new Empire. Palpatine. Darth Vader.

Each one a dagger right through your heart. Reminding yourself that he did not choose you.

But he was lost.

You shake your head at your resolve breaking. One look at his broken expression and it all falls down.

He was lost. He was manipulated.

"Forgive me, stardust." Anakin says. His forehead presses against yours, and he holds you close. The makeshift sky above you seemingly calms, no longer displaying the occassional flash of crimson red. You feel the tension leave your body, and nearly slump against him.

A minute passes before he finally speaks again, "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this."

You know full well that he apologizes for much more than causing you to grow irate moments ago. He means everything.

"I know," you finally admit. Your eyes flit over his features. His eyes gently shut, his fingertips memorizing the planes of your face. "But this... this was the end."

"Well," he slowly smiles, and it is one of both sadness and acceptance. But when his eyes hold yours, it betrays the Anakin that would never accept defeat, who would never relent to losing the one he loves forever. "Why don't we go back to the beginning?"

The scene fades before your eyes, but Anakin remains.

And he always will.

It is the day after your thirteenth nameday, and your Master has granted you leave for the entire week.

It gives you the chance to interact with the visiting Padawans from other Jedi Temples, but you find yourself sitting all alone in an alcove in the inner courtyard.

Training has not been easy as of late, and you're beginning to doubt whether you deserve to be in the Jedi Order at all.

Lost in thought, you make the hilt of your lightsaber hover to the side. Spinning it midair. Tapping it against the stone in a sporadic rhythm.

Maybe if I fail, I can make a living off of these party tricks.

Then a voice breaks you out of it. "That won't be much of a living, but I have a better idea."

The boy you will soon know to be Anakin stands there, with his sandy mop of hair along with its signature Padawan braid, and curious gaze. He looks to be about your age, but already much taller.

"Stay out of my head." You respond on instinct, letting annoyance win over.

"Don't you want to know what I had in mind?" He sits across from you, unfazed. Clearly this is a kid who holds himself in some high regard. His force feels like determination and honour.

And defiance, as well as a simmering fury, but you will find this out much later.

"Not really," you shrug, trying to play coy. Your interest is piqued, but you're still discomforted by the thought that this random Padawan is tuning in to your deepest emotions.

"Well," he sighs. Something tells you it didn't really matter what your response was. "I was thinking that I can help you train. I can feel that the Force is strong with you, as it is with me."

"Is it, now?" The pair on this guy. But he's right. He has the power to bring balance to the galaxy. He just doesn't believe it yet.

"It is. And trust me, I tend to be right about these things." He smiles, and it is one of boyish innocence and wonder. Years later, he will change, but you will find that his smile remains the same.

You shake his hand in introduction, and you fall into conversation. How long is he visiting your Jedi Temple? Where did he come from? How is he finding his training?

It's polite conversation. It's a normal afternoon.

But it's also the beginning of everything.

"Come find me," he says to you, before he leaves.

"I will."

As he walks away, you notice a cloud of smoke encroaching upon him. White tendrils twisting in a race to get to him. Anakin. You blink hard, trying to get clear of the haze. His figure is morphed, doubled in size. Something's not right.

The white tendrils turn red. Darkness creeps in from all sides, and you know there is danger here.

"Wait!" You scream out. I have to warn him.

You take sure, long strides toward his figure and your bones ache. You're certainly taller now, and stronger. Much older than your thirteen years.

"Anakin, wait!"

He turns, and it is not Anakin. You freeze upon seeing the unfamiliar being, towering over everything, dark mask firmly in place.

Darth Vader. You realize just where you are, and why you're here, running around moments of impermanence.

He starts to speak, and you're startled to hear that the voice does not come from Vader's deep, chilling synthesizer.

"Come find me," he repeats. It's Anakin's voice. The one you've always known.

"I will," you say once more, the meaning of the words renewed.

And then everything is lost in a blinding flash of light.

You find yourself back on the suspended path, amidst millions of the same pathways to memories and forms of reality. The galaxy stretches eternal, the stars unending.

Anakin stands calmly before you, as he did when you arrived.

"You have to go back, stardust. Ahsoka needs you."

"I know," you say, not willing to say goodbye, but there's no other choice. You take his hands, committing the feeling to memory, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"Will you come find me?"

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"I always will."

[vicariousresearcher]

Hosting family over the holidays leads to tension that must be resolved one way or another.

“This is why I told you to get them a hotel.”

“Yes, let’s tell my sister that she has to wrangle her children into a hotel room even though we have an empty guest room. Makes perfect sense. She’ll definitely accept that.”

“Lie! The window doesn’t seal properly, we’re waiting for a new mattress, renovations. Literally anything Kyle. It’s that easy.”

Kyle was white-knuckling the steering wheel, left hand jerking the gear shift as he backed into the driveway. Trunk full of more groceries than you guys would’ve eaten in a month but between Christmas dinner and snacks to just keep your sister-in-laws lovely spawn satiated, you might just need to make another.

The tension in the silent car said enough. It had been a week of passive aggressive comments, stress, and so much work why did you guys ever agree to host this year. This was nothing like hosting Kyles buddies.

He could hear you grumble as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “We need to get that turkey in the sink if we want any chance of a decent dinner.” 

Kyle’s fingers caught your jaw before you could try at the door, dimpling into the fat of your cheeks as his mouth slotted over yours, smothering your squeak. 

Jesus christ how long has it been since he got his hands on you proper? All this tension, the bickering and sharp glares. It was all just from how pent up he was. No time to get his hands on you when his nephews were in the room over.

He can feel you melt, meeting his urgency as you twist back around, letting him pull you closer. Tongue prodding at your lips in a way that he knows will ruin your makeup but *he needs to taste you*, teeth clicking as the kisses turn open mouthed and desperate to satiate the starvation simmering under his skin. 

Absolutely enraptured in the cloying smell of your shampoo. Dizzying when you got a knee on the centre console to just get all the more close. 

He's tugging you over it into his lap, hands pawing at your sweater to just get under the too many layers separating him from your soft waist and the bra that hugs your tits too sweetly to not be pulled off. A low moan coming out of his throat when you raked your nails up his nape.

One hand pressing insistently on your lower back to just please please drag your hips forward, just a little bit. Already chaffing in his jeans. 

Both of you are panting by the time you pull away, he can see how your lipgloss is smeared, pupils blown all wide as you lean back to appreciate the absolute mess you’ve made of him so quickly. His hands a pawing at the too many layers covering your soft waist-

Kyle just about jumps out of his skin when the car beeps, your back hitting the horn. 

The shocked silence is broken when he sees your face. Looking like a teenager just caught sneaking off in her boyfriends car to have sex. 

You’re shoving his face away, clambering back over the console as he unbuckles himself. Yelping when he swats at your ass. 

Your shushes and glares just cement the lightness in his shoulders as you struggle to not laugh while putting away groceries.

“Maybe I’ll get them tickets to the aquarium so we can have the house for an afternoon, yeah?”

“Yeah?”

The lilt in your voice, an almost mischievous look glinting in your eyes has him already planning how to usher off his sister.

[ticklygiggles]

Titillatio | Xiao x Aether

A/N: Happy birthday to my birthday twin @eliankrios! I hope you have the loveliest of days, Elian! I'm happy to be friends with you ❤️❤️❤️ *boop paw* I hope you enjoy these babies and I hope they're not too ooc! Enjoy your daaaaaay 💕💕💕💕💕

Summary: Xiao rediscovers something he had long forgotten.

Words: 2k

Xiao never thought that a kiss could make him feel so many things: butterflies fluttering from his throat to his lower belly. In his mouth, the taste of the other person was sweet against his tongue and made him feel light in the head, as if he had drunk too much alcohol. His hands trembled and he always tried to hold on to something so the other wouldn't notice. His knees were weak, as if they were going to fail him at any moment; and a strange heat gathered in his insides and spread to his neck, traveling to his cheeks and ears, making them turn as red as an apple. 

His mind went blank, any thoughts that could have been floating around in his head vanished, and he could only focus on the tingling he felt on his lips and the burning pain at the edges of his lungs due to lack of air… but now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn't the kiss itself, but the person who seemed to be trying to devour his lips every time. 

“Aether-!” He gasped, his hands on Aether's shoulders, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. 

The traveler had his arms around his waist, pressing him against his warm body while he kissed Xiao desperately and frantically. Xiao could barely keep up with him; Aether's tongue writhed inside his mouth, tickling the roof of his mouth as he seemed to try to suck on Xiao's tongue. Xiao couldn't deny that, although he felt a little dizzy from lack of air, he had missed Aether's kisses deeply. 

The traveler had been away from Liyue for a long time, and even when he returned, Xiao could not meet him right away, as he was busy doing things that a yaksha had to do. Their meeting had happened no more than ten minutes ago, but as soon as they exchanged glances, their bodies were already pressed against each other. 

However, Aether really seemed hungry for Xiao. It was no longer enough for him to just kiss Xiao's mouth, Aether's kisses moved down his jaw, seeking the warmth of his neck to sink his teeth in. 

“A-Aether, h-hold on. Someone will- haa!” 

It was useless, Aether simply wasn't listening and Xiao's nervousness only increased when he felt one of Aether's hands sneaking under the hem of his skin-tight shirt, the other finding that opening on the upper part of his back. Gentle fingertips followed the edge of his shoulder blades, making him gasp and squirm. Aether touched Xiao's skin lighty, tenderly, just like a feather. His soft fingers brushed against the curve on his lower back and something fuzzy started to build in Xaio’s throat. 

“Tra-Traveler! You're n-not listening to me, I really- ack?! W-Wahait! That spot-!” 

Before he could stop himself, an airy giggle escaped his lips and they both stood still. Aether finally deigned to lift his face from Xiao's blushing neck and Xiao quickly found his golden eyes, his own wide open. 

“Wha- what did you just do?” He asked, feeling that almost uncomfortable sensation near his side that made him want to scratch the spot. 

His eyes danced from left to right, looking into Aether's, and something funny rose in his stomach when he noticed a glint of playful malice in Aether's amber pupils. 

“Are you ticklish Xiao?” A mischievous smile spread across Aether's lips and Xiao frowned.

“Ticklish?” He said the word slowly, as if savoring each letter and listening to how the two syllables sounded together. It was a funny word, if he had to admit it. “What is ‘ticklish’?” 

His question only made Aether's smile widen even more and Xiao jumped slightly when Aether's warm hands closed on his waist, making him blush even more. His own hands closed around Aether's wrists and he made an absurd attempt to push those hands away from his body. Aether giggled sweetly and that was enough to distract Xiao and let out a laugh when Aether squeezed his waist. Every hair on his body stood up as he felt that sensation run through him like electric shocks. Even though he really didn't want to, his hands pushed Aether's wrists away from his body and he looked at him with his eyes wide open and his lips trembling with a silly little smile. 

“Aether… what are you doing right now- no! N-Nohoho!” 

Xiao didn't know how, but Aether had broken free of his grip and his hands latched onto his waist again and he let out embarrassed and uncontrollable giggles as the traveler squeezed the spot over and over. The sensation made Xiao want to crawl out of his skin, those fingers woke up his nerve endings in a weird way, and Xiao couldn't make it stop. 

He wasn't sure he had ever felt this kind of sensation in his many years of existence. He was almost sure that he would remember this feeling, and yet, there was some feeling of longing swirling in his chest the more Aether did this… ‘ticklish’ thing on him. It was as if a part of his memory was under a haze, and he certainly couldn't concentrate with Aether's fingers running up his sides until they reached his ribs. 

Xiao's giggles turned into more panicked laughter and his knees could no longer support his weight and squirming. He fell into the grass beneath him and Aether followed him, still making him laugh out of his mind as he straddled Xiao's waist. Aether's fingers gently but firmly dug into each of his ribs and a second later, he felt the tips of his fingers vibrating between the spaces of each bone. 

Xiao threw his head back and his body shook with the force of his laugh. He desperately gripped Aether's arms, but he felt powerless, his strength had been drained from his body and he could only shriek between laughter what he thought Aether was doing to him: 

“W-Witchcrahahaft!” 

Aether laughed so hard, he actually had to stop tickling Xiao to hold onto his tummy. “This is not witchcraft! I'm just tickling you, Xiao!” 

Didn't he say ‘ticklish’ earlier? Xiao shook his head, breathless. He tried to crawl away, but Aether giggled and grabbed him by the hips, dragging him back and sitting on his lower back. Xiao groaned and laughter poured from his lips again when the tickling started once more, this time Aether's fingers wiggling against his lower back and the window of his shirt. Xiao cackled, arching back and clawing at the ground, trying, in vain, to escape this torment. 

Should he call it torment? It really wasn't that bad. The feeling was overwhelming, it numbed his brain and he felt like lightning was rushing through his body with every touch, also his laughter was embarrassingly loud and his tummy and sides were starting to hurt. However, Xiao couldn't say that he was hating it, on the contrary, he was ashamed to admit it to himself, but he was having fun. Although his stomach and sides hurt, it wasn't because of the force that Aether was tickling him with, his fingers were light and skillful, touching places that he didn't know could make him squeal and cackle like that. 

It was also nice to hear Aether giggling along him, his laughter was light and happy, like an excited child. To think just a couple of minutes ago he was almost eating him alive. 

“How come I didn't know you are so ticklish, Xiao? Hmm? Tell me please.”

“I cahaHAHAn’t!” 

He really couldn't. If he dared to speak, he felt like he was going to choke with his own laughter, besides, he really couldn't form any coherent thought at that moment.

“Your back is very ticklish,” Aether giggled and Xiao felt alarmed. There was something in Aether's voice, a tone that made him feel terribly nervous. “I wonder if you're also very ticklish here?” 

The sound that escaped from Xiao's mouth did not sound like him, in fact, he had no idea that he was capable of screeching like that, but when Aether pushed his warm hands under his arms and his fingers started to wiggle against his armpits– he just couldn't control himself. 

Sweet yet hysterical laughter bloomed past his lips. That maddening sensation felt incredibly intense, and Xiao could only laugh and laugh as his body became useless, his arms glued to his sides in a futile attempt to make the tickling stop or at least, slow down, but it had the opposite effect, for Aether's hands had been trapped and he moved his fingers incessantly. 

“Ah, I think I found your most ticklish spot, Xiao!” Aether chuckled above him, speaking fondly. “Your laughter is so cute! I want to listen to more!” 

‘Your laughter is so cute… I want to listen to more.’ 

Oh, now he remembered. As Aether's fingers dug under his arms, a memory came to Xiao's mind: the eldest and leader of the Yakshas, Bosacius, holding both Xiao's wrists with two pair of hands while the other pair nestled into his exposed underarms, tickling him until Xiao was crying with hysterical laughter. Xiao could hear Bosacius' voice teasing him while he mercilessly tickled his armpits, his boisterous laughter almost louder than Xiao's. Xiao remembered looking at his bright smiles and shining eyes through his teary sight. Bosacius was happy and so was Xiao. 

A wave of warmth flooded his chest and as he laughed wildly, he finally was able to remember just what this whole thing was. 

“Tihihitillahahatio!” 

“What?”

“This ihihis, eek, t-tihihitilahatio!” 

The tickling slowly came to a stop and Xiao went limp onto the soft grass, breathing heavily and feeling little tears falling down the side of his face. A silly smile pulled at the corners of his lips and he giggled brightly when Aether started poking his back and sides, causing him to roll on his back again. 

“What is titillatio, Xiao?” Aether asked, his head tilted to the side like a confused bird. Xiao's eyes looked at Aether fondly, his fingers gently brushing the other's flushed cheek. Aether nuzzled into his hand like a kitten and Xiao smiled warmly.

“Titillatio is… tickling, I guess. That was the name years ago.” Centuries ago. “I didn't know the name had changed. It had been a long while since titilatio was done to me.” 

Xiao didn't even remember the feeling, let alone the name. He had spent so many years alone, there was no way his mind was busy remembering insignificant things like that; there was also the issue of erosion in the mind… but be tried to ignore that as much as possible. 

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed Aether was looking at him intently and frowning. “Was that person… your partner?*

Xiao blinked a couple of times, astonished. Did he hear correctly? “What?” 

Xiao raised his eyebrows when Aether rolled his eyes. “The person that tickled you in the past! Were they your partner?” 

“What? N-No, of course not. It was just- wait… are you mad about it?” Aether looked away. “Oh, are you jealous?”

Xiao had learned about jealousy the hard way, he now recognized the emotion even in other people and to his eyes, Aether seemed really jealous at that moment. The blonde blushed up to his ears and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding Xiao's gaze at all costs. He really was jealous, huh? 

Xiao chuckled, his hands gently holding Aether's bare waist. “Didn't you say jealousy is bad?” 

Aether made an indignant sound and Xiao let out a soft chuckle through his teeth. Feeling a weird wave of playfulness rushing through him, Xiao quickly changed their positions. It was adorably funny to see Aether's confused expression turn into one of pure laughter as Xiao started to pinch and prod his exposed waist. 

“X-Xiahaho! Dohohon't!” 

Xiao smiled lovingly, thumbs rubbing against the sides of Aether's tummy. The traveler giggled and laughed and squirmed under him and Xiao understood why people liked to tickle others. It was fun to see another laughing because of your gentle touch and if that person was Aether, it was all even better.

“I'm nohohot jehehealous! I prohohomise!” Despite his pleading, Aether didn't seem to do much to make Xiao stop.

“I do believe you're not jealous.” That was a lie. “But I actually have never tried doing titillatio to someone. How is that? Do you like it?” Aether threw his head back with bright giggles and Xiao couldn't help but also chuckle. “Am I doing it right?” 

“S-Stohohop teheasing meHE!”

Xiao laughed. Genuinely laughed. He had spent so many years alone, he had forgotten how good it felt to be with someone as kind and bright as Aether. He got to experiment a lot for the first time: having a partner, kisses, jealousy. Tickling... Even love.

Xiao smiled warmly down at Aether's laughing face, his hands weakly pawing at Xiao's hands. All those years of loneliness... perhaps they were just a small punishment to be able to enjoy the happy company of this wonderful traveler.

"You want me to tickle you more?"

"Noho! I'm s-sohohorry!"

Yes, this definitely was his reward.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELIAN! 🎂🎈🎉🥳

[k-hotchoisan]

Congrats on 500! I’m requesting number 5 😁🫶🏻

5. Get spanked by San or Dom Hongjoong?

wE’RE ALMOST TO THE END MY ANGEL and obviously how could I NOT write spanking if it’s not Choi San and his love for asses 🍑

ENJOY 🩷🌶️

Bad kitties need to be punished and San knows just the way to do it

Warnings: smut, spanking kink, suggestive, cat hybrid!Reader, degradation & punishment, impact play

Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

San has kept cats. He has a pet cat back home. But when finds out your actual form, he’s rendered speechless—when he wakes up one day , feeling something soft curl around his leg and he spots a pair of fluffy cat ears twitch under the covers, San pulls back the sheets frantically and he stares at you in your hybrid feline form. Your eyes slowly open as you rub your eyes, your slits turning circular when you spot the shocked male before you.

He likes the way you always curl around him, pawing at his lap, and some times just lying your head there while he does his work. Despite the fact that you’re part human, sometimes you just grow mischievous, enjoying poking fun at your human partner, even teasing him by grinding against his crotch when you’re both comfortably cuddling, before you leave him completely high and dry. San tolerates it at first, but it’s starting to drive him insane at the way you’re constantly teasing him like that, especially when you look at him with those fuckin feline eyes.

The final straw was when you had you head nuzzled on San’s lap as usual, with San stroking your hair, and sometimes he massages your ears, and you let out soft purrs, pressing your head into his bare thighs. You stick your tongue out, giving kitten licks, and you feel San squirm slightly in his seat as you travel dangerously close to his crotch.

“Kitty”, he calls endearingly, despite the warning behind the soft tone. You ignore him, giving his thighs a couple more licks as San shifts beneath you, and you don’t miss the way you see his cock pressing against the fabric of his pants. You wonder how much you should push him.

It turns out, not much. That’s mostly because when you bare your small fangs and bite down onto his inner thigh, he jolts with a low groan, and the hand on your ears grip your hair instead, as he tugs your head up to face him.

“I think I’ve been patient enough, kitty”, he mutters, pitch low enough to send electricity down your spine from the anticipation. You only stare back with a small smile.

“Have you?” You ask, your tail trailing across his jaw. San stares down at you, and you see something flash across his eyes, something that makes you want to bolt.

But for once, he’s faster, his muscled arm curled around your waist, holding you down and essentially trapping you. You claw at his arm, almost flailing and his free arm grabs both your wrist, pinning them before you. You severely underestimate his strength, because he pulls you onto his lap as if you’re a rag doll.

You mewl, your tail flailing, as you feel your shorts being tugged off you, only your bare ass out with your pretty panties which is slowly starting to soak.

“Bad kittens need to be punished”, San hums, his palm grazing over your soft and supple flesh. Your tail instinctively coils around his arm.

San has always prided himself as an ass man, and deep inside, he’s always wanted a piece of yours, but you were always teasing him, and he finally snapped. Among all of the times he’s been teased by you—the lap grinding, your kitten licks, the worst was by far whenever he sees you stretch. You always had your back arched, your tail fully erected, and your ass fully out, especially right when he walks into the room. He knows you do it on purpose, because when you stare at him, you accompany your alluring stare with a smirk.

But now, he has you trapped in his arms, right where he wants you.

He doesn’t give you a warning before his hand lands on your ass, the sound of the slap louder than your squeal. Your eyes are blown wide open this time, not from the sting, but from the shock.

And for some fuck ass reason, it’s starting to make you wet.

“How many times did you do that? Teasing, licking, biting. What else is there?” You hear San’s voice above you, feigning being lost in thought.

When he doesn’t get an answer, the sound of your ass being slapped echoes in your shared apartment, and you hiss, jolting forward as San shifts you back into position.

“Kitten, tell me, what else did you do?”

You barely form the thoughts to even answer him. But you try, “grinding?”

Another slap. Your mind is starting to melt as the sting begins to make you leak more.

“You’re partially right. But it’s the worst when you stretch. Bad kitty, having your ass up in the air whenever I walk in. You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

Fuck. You really did underestimate him. You feel his hard cock pressed against your hip. The tip of his shorts is starting to get wet.

You jolt when his palm meets your skin, this time a moan leaving your lips as you shudder. San cocks an eyebrow. His eyes cast down at the growing dark patch on your panties and scoffs.

“Just how dirty is my kitty? Getting off being punished like this?” He lands another one, but lingers to grab a fistful of your ass, groaning at how your ass spills between this fingers. San cannot keep his eyes off at the way it jiggles whenever he lands his palm on it, and it’s driving him up the wall.

He rubs your ass gently, admiring at how the pink tint is gradually flooding your cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry”, you manage to choke out, fighting against the pleasure pulsing in your gradually wet cunt.

San doesn’t answer you, but he yanks your panties off, tossing it somewhere on the couch, you don’t know. You gasp at the cold breeze tickling your bare cunt now. He soaks two fingers in his mouth, and soon you jolt from the feeling of two digits rubbing against your clit.

“S-Sannie”, you mewl, struggling against his grip. He doesn’t relent, or rather, his grip only tightens. “P-please!”

“Count your spankings. One for every way you’ve teased me. We’ll start over from one if you don’t do it right. Is that clear, kitten?”

You whine. Another smack.

“Y-yes”, you spit, this time the sensitivity at whole another notch now that your bare cunt is exposed.

“Good kitty.”

San raises his hand.

Smack.

“One”, you begin, biting the inner of your cheek.

Smack.

“Two…” you trail, once you’re able to relax your hips.

Smack.

For some reason, the third smack had your eyes rolled back. You feel more slick leak, now your inner thighs are so dirty with your juices. It’s beginning to stain San’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to heed attention to it.

“Kitty”, San coos, and another smack echoes through the apartment. “We’re starting over.”

You’re beginning to sob, from how sensitive your ass is getting from all the spanking, and the more he does it, the more you feel your mind about break from good it feels. Your ears are pointed forward.

Smack.

“One.”

Smack.

“T-two.”

Smack.

“Three”, you whimper, trying to lick the drool that pooled at the corner of your lips.

Smack.

“F-four”, You shift uncomfortably, wanting some sort of friction on your clit. It’s getting too much.

Smack.

“F-five”, you sob, your thighs contracting as more slick oozes out of your neglected pussy. You are so unbelievably drenched that your mind has completely gone hazy, and you don’t register the way San is stroking your ass to relive some of the numbness of the sting.

San releases your wrists, and has you sit on his lap while presses gentle kisses on your temple, showering you with praises.

“That’s my good kitty. You took them so well. Did I hurt you too much?” He asks, combing your hair from your face before he wipes the tear stain from your cheeks. Your ears twitch.

You shake your head. If he did, you’d probably stop him, and he would have definitely stopped. A soft smile spreads across your partner’s lips as he cups your cheeks, and you feel all ounces of rationality slip out of your mind when his lips are on yours, and your tail coils around his arm by instinct, your ears completely relaxing in his touch.

You push him back when your lips part from his, and you’re sitting directly on his stiff erection. His shorts are so stained from the mixture of his precum and your dirty juices.

“Hit me more when you’re fucking me stupid, please”, you mutter as you grind softy against his hips, San’s groans filling your sensitive ears.

His fingers press against your hips and his tongue peeks at the corner of his lips.

“Naughty kitty.”

[portgasmalia]

❝𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘❞ ﹙ pairings: law, kid & f!reader ﹚ ﹙ theme: jealousy, smut ﹚ ﹙ info: my current thoughts focus too much on kid & law, can‘t keep the thoughts straight ﹚

❝ 𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 '𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍' 𝐊𝐈𝐃. ❞

﹙ possessiveness, p in v, rough sex, name calling, hair pulling, jealousy like hardcore jealousy ﹚

how kid hated the way you laughed, the way your lips curled towards the corners of your eyes so effortlessly. oh, how much those thoughts turned out to be a lie. the only part of the melodic sound coming from you, kid despised, was who was the reason behind the burst of amusement. sabaody was meant to be the last island before entering the second part of the grand line, the new world. it did not mean to be confronted with the dumbness of another captain. a boy, so young, so naive, and often speaking confusing sentences which tickled a laugh out of most persons. kid did not count as one of them.

his jealousy became the reason of his cruel behavior, skin slapping on skin echoing across the deck of the victoria punk. underarms placed parrallel on the railing, the forehead laid on your wrists. “fucking mine,” the captain behind you groaned, pounding into you harsher. a successful attempt of hiding your face from the passing townsfolk, or any other pirate which already saw your gentle features in daylight and could recognize it in darkness occurred while letting the filthy sounds of pleasure spill from your mouth. but kid wasn't having the disobedience of your actions. his large paw found the back of your head, the calloused fingers grabbing the messed up strands and pulling back. forceful but not painful. “do not dare to hide what i’m doing to you,” kid grunted, punctuating his words with a rather rough thrust. “let those fucking assholes see who’s little slut you are.”

while his words sounded harsh to an outstanding person, kid knew how much you loved his nasty dirty talk. the scenario from the harbor must look discomforting. cherry red dusted over the span of your cheeks, the mouth wide open, needy whines and filthy moans leaving the swollen lips as your body was pressed harshly against the railing. marks on your shoulders and around your waist would stay as a reminder. behind you, the towering shadow of a man. broad shoulders, calloused fingertips pressing deeply into the soft flesh of your hips and the wide, mischievous smirk on kid’s lips accentuated by the bright red of his lipstick. “i hope,” he grunted, the raspy tone coming from deep in his chest. “that elastic boy luffy walks past, and sees me fucking you.“

oh, kid was jealous of goofball luffy. a surprise as you mildly suspected law or zoro.

❝ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐋𝐀𝐖 . ❞

﹙orgasm denial, possessiveness, p in v, choking﹚

throughout the journey across the first half of the grand line, the islands of paradise, the captain of the heart pirates never felt an intense pinch of jealousy. law always knew you started the journey with him, and you would either finish it with him or die by his side. a promise of love. but reaching sabaody archipelago, the last one before the red line, offered other difficulties. after month of seeing other crews failing, law met people as dangerous as him. the worst generation, the eleven supernovas from nine different crews.

while you loved how much you were able to change the cold-hearted demeanor as soon as entering the private rooms of the polar tang, it always caused a glint of pride when law‘s emotionless facade faltered. and it did in front of the auction house. eyebrows furrowed into a deep thrown, thin lips pressed together tightly and his jaw clenched at the sight. your delicate hands, the slender fingers wrapped ever so lightly around the hilt of that mosshead‘s sword. zoro, the vice captain of the straw hat crew. a dumb fool, but his strength was immense. he stood behind you, a hand placed above yours and his rough fingertips graced your soft skin as zoro showed you how to slash and inflict a wound with the sharp blade. inhaling a deep breath, law forced himself to swallow the thoughts of destruction until you reached the polar tang again.

oh, how the anger boiled in law‘s stomach. you never asked him, never questioned the way he carried his sword, never wanted to learn from him. a burning jealousy in his blood, he already planned the downfall of your night. and accepting the offer from the vice captain was the reason for your current position. sprawled out on the captain‘s bed, ass in the air and the legs already shaking from the intensity of law‘s actions. consequences, that was what he called the harsh slaps of his swords sheath against the soft flesh of your cheeks. each time the material connected with your strawberry-freckled ass became a reminder of your wrong‘s. „you‘re mine. fucking mine alone.“ law‘s words were a raspy mess, growls erupting from deeply within his tattooed chest. „can’t wait to fuck you dumb again. you won’t remember that mosshead.“

the sound of him opening his belt rang in your ears, knowing that your punishment reached its peak soon. and yet, you did not regret luring out the possessiveness of law. at least not at this moment until the soreness conquered your exhausted body and closing your legs was not an option.

[msriri030]

Under His Gaze

a bit of Stu x reader and Alan x reader

maybe a can be a part two of this Fanfic

"Stu, I told you—my dad already made plans to go hunting on my last day," you said, scanning the convenience store shelves stacked with chips and soda. Stu trailed behind you, arms crossed, lips pressed into a dramatic pout.

“Come on, (Y/N)! You can’t be serious!” Stu whined, trailing behind you like a sulky puppy. “I’m your best friend! At least let me come with you!”

You sighed, grabbing a bottle of soda and tossing it into your basket. “Stu, you know my dad doesn’t exactly like you—especially after my mom found your porno magazine in his toolbox.”

Stu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “For the love of—That was years ago! How long is he gonna hold that against me?!”

“I don’t know,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you reached for a container of trail mix. “He had to sleep on the couch for, like, three weeks. You added years to his marriage counseling bill. I’d say that’s hard to bounce back from.”

Stu let out a long, theatrical sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t have a comeback for that one. He watched you quietly as you studied the label on the container, your face focused but calm.

He didn’t want you to leave. Didn’t want to say goodbye. But he also didn’t have the heart to make you feel guilty for going.

“What? …You’re really gonna miss me, huh?” you said, glancing over with a smirk.

Stu grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes. “You have no idea.”

His heart was breaking.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you so much, (Y/N). I don’t mind raccoons much, but I can’t clean up after these two little demons every morning,” your elderly neighbor, Mrs. Vita, said with a grateful smile, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses.

You held up the cage trap with a wry grin, the two raccoons inside staring back at you with unrepentant mischief in their eyes. “No problem, Mrs. Vita. I’ll take these trash pandas back into the forest where they belong.”

“By yourself?” Her brows knit together in concern. “Don’t you have someone to go with you? It can be dangerous out there.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Don’t worry—I don’t go too deep. Just far enough that these little guys hopefully won’t make their way back to your yard again.”

You lifted the cage a little, one raccoon pawing at the metal as if in protest.

Mrs. Vita gave you a fond but worried look. “You’re braver than me. Be careful, alright?”

You offered her a reassuring smile. “Always.”

After offering Mrs. Vita a reassuring smile, you set off into the forest, your rifle slung securely across your back and the cage containing the two mischievous raccoons gripped firmly in hand. The cool night air whispered through the trees, carrying the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves. As you followed the familiar winding path, your thoughts drifted to your recent encounter with the enigmatic stranger.

Alan Orion���the hatchet-wielding man with wild, wolf-like hair. The memory brought a chuckle to your lips. For a woodsman, he certainly possessed an unexpected charm.​

But why was he in the woods? You hadn't seen him around town before. The question lingered, unanswered, as you navigated the uneven terrain.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the low-hanging branch until it was too late. With a startled grunt, you walked face-first into the rough bark of a sturdy oak. Stumbling back, you shook your head, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. If your mother were here, she'd tease you mercilessly, claiming you'd fallen head over heels—quite literally.

Sighing, you glanced around, noting the dense foliage and the soft rustle of nocturnal creatures. Deciding you'd ventured far enough from town, you set the cage down gently. Stretching to ease the stiffness in your muscles, your gaze was drawn upward. The canopy parted just enough to reveal a tapestry of stars, twinkling brilliantly against the inky sky.

"Wow," you murmured, awe-struck. "It's so beautiful."

"Not as much as you, Doe-Eyes."

The unexpected voice sent a jolt through your system. Spinning around, your eyes locked onto Alan, standing a few paces away, his heterochromatic gaze fixed intently on you. His sudden appearance was both unsettling and intriguing.

"Alan?" you managed, your voice a mix of surprise and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

He offered a lopsided grin, the moonlight casting shadows across the scars that marked his face. "I could ask you the same thing? Dangerous place for someone like you to be alone."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a cocktail of adrenaline and something else you couldn't quite name. Despite the unease prickling at the edges of your consciousness, you found yourself drawn to the man before you.

"I was just releasing these two," you explained, gesturing toward the raccoons, who were now crouched beside the cage, twitching their noses at  the two of you. "They've been causing trouble for my neighbor. Stealing trash like it’s a buffet."

Alan’s eyes flicked from the animals to you, unreadable for a second before softening. “Always knew you had a kind heart,” he said, voice low and steady.

Something in his tone struck you—like the edge of a blade wrapped in velvet. You looked away, but not before his words settled deep, like a spark curling in your chest.

“But you should be careful,” he added, his voice dipping lower, almost like a warning or... a promise. “Not everything in these woods is as harmless as those little thieves.”

A shiver ghosted down your spine. The cool night air kissed your skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made you tremble—it was him. His presence. His voice. The way he said “not everything.”

“I know,” you said quickly, your voice a little too thin. “That’s why I don’t go to the deep end of the woods. Never have.”

You turned, hoping to hide the pink that bloomed in your cheeks, but Alan was already stepping closer. Close enough that you could smell the faint trace of cedar, musk, and something wild that clung to him like second skin.

“You’re clever, doe-eye,” he said, leaning just enough that his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “But danger doesn’t always live where you expect it. Sometimes, it follows you home.”

You swallowed hard. “I-I’ll keep it in mind.”

The words barely left your lips before his nearness wrapped around you like a cloak—warm, protective, and unsettling all at once. The forest, once a place of childhood hikes and calming solitude, now felt alive with hidden things. With eyes in the shadows. With secrets.

“Anyway…” you cleared your throat and bent toward the cage. “I should let them go.”

You fiddled with the latch, the cold metal grounding your nerves. With a gentle tug, the door swung open, and the raccoons bolted into the brush. You watched them disappear, not realizing Alan hadn’t moved—hadn’t stopped watching you.

He took a single step closer, boots silent on the mossy floor. Then another. And then you felt him—just behind you—his body heat brushing your back like a whisper.

“You smell pretty good, doe-eye,” he murmured, voice half-laugh, half-growl.

Your breath hitched. “Y-you think so?”

You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes—only to find his face barely inches from yours. His gaze was liquid heat, slow and unblinking, drinking you in. His lips curved in a smile, but his eyes... his eyes were hungry.

“Yeah,” he said, so close you could feel the vibration of his voice. “Good enough to eat.”

Before you could react, he lunged—not with violence, but playful hunger. You squeaked, a startled laugh bursting from your lips as he tackled you gently into the soft underbrush.

“Alan!” you gasped, trying to squirm out from under him. “You’re heavy!”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through your chest as he braced himself above you, arms on either side of your head. The weight of him pressed down—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he was there, solid, real, unshakable.

“Strong enough to catch you, though,” he said, smirking.

Your heart pounded—not just from the fall, but from the way he was looking at you now.

Like you were prey he didn’t quite want to consume... yet.

Alan hovered above you, his body heat sinking into your skin, grounding you in place. His thumb traced the line of your jaw with a slowness that made your breath hitch—tender, almost reverent.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?” he whispered.

Your lips parted, but no words came. You were too focused on the storm behind his mismatched eyes like the forest had left its imprint inside him.

What is he talking about? You stared, trying to read him, your pulse fluttering like trapped wings.

Alan was breathing heavier now, shallow and fast, as though resisting something buried deep—something feral. Your hand lifted almost without thinking, fingers brushing over his chest. Beneath your touch, his muscles tensed. He hiccuped, startled by your softness, and then leaned in like your palm was gravity itself.

But something twisted in your gut. Too close. Too fast.

Your hands flattened gently against him and pushed. Not hard—just enough to create space. Enough to breathe. Your gaze dropped away from his.

“Alan…” you whispered, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Could you maybe—uh… get off me?”

He stilled.

Then, blinking in surprise, Alan tilted his head. “Yes, Doe-eyes?”

You met his gaze again, sheepish and red-faced. “No offense, but… my gun is stabbing me in the back.”

There was a pause.

Then—“Oh! Oh damn, I’m sorry!” Alan scrambled off you, moving fast but careful not to jostle you. “I didn’t mean to crush you like that!”

He knelt beside you as you sat up, wincing slightly. You reached behind and tugged your hunting rifle free from where it had been pinned beneath your spine. The safety was still on—thank the stars—but the metal had left a sore, stinging spot.

Alan watched you with sheepish concern, his hand halfway raised as if unsure whether to help or give you space.

You looked at him, trying to stay annoyed, but it was hard when he was giving you that boyish, apologetic smile. You murmured, “It’s okay. Just… maybe let me breathe next time.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Got it. Keep all rib-cracking hugs to a minimum.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

The forest had quieted again. The raccoons were long gone. And for a moment, all that existed was the quiet thrum of your heart and the man beside you—half wild, half sweet, and impossible to ignore.

[bumblesimagines]

i bet your neighbors hate us.

you're wearing my shirt.

Guinevere Beck

you're wearing my shirt.

i bet your neighbors hate us.

Pronouns: They/Them/Their, GN!Reader

The dream of a nice vacation on a warm, sunny beach in a new country waiting to be explored shattered abruptly at the agonizing sound of your alarm blaring in your ear over and over again until you lazily pawed at your phone and somehow managed to silence it. You sighed heavily into your pillow and contemplated sleeping for a few more minutes that would surely turn into a few more hours, but you doubted your friends would appreciate you ditching them for sweet, out-of-reach dreams. 

Lifting your head from the pillow and rubbing a hand over your face, your eyes cracked open when the smell of food slipped into the room. You lived alone and the only people who had copies of your apartment key either couldn't cook or weren't nice enough to. You rolled off your stomach and sat up to give your bedroom a quick scan. 

You first noticed the clothes you'd worn the night before scattered around the floor haphazardly as if they'd been aggressively thrown around. The unfamiliar jeans and shirt stood out to you next, also on the floor alongside a pair of beige sandals and a vibrant red jacket that looked vaguely familiar to the one your sister's friend wore often. The bottle-blonde with pretty eyes and naive enough to believe your sister's other friend vaguely gave a shit about her otherwise known as the lit student your sister had taken under her protective wing.

...Shit. 

Peach would have your head served on a silver platter or worse if she were ever to find out. She'd never been the most rational or level-headed, no matter how hard she tried to come off as put-together, and she'd become rather obsessive over... Bella? Beatrice? Your foggy mind refused to remind you of the aspiring writer's name but it happily reminded you of that time Peach had pulled you aside at a party to borderline threaten you into keeping a friendly distance from Beck because she 'already had one asshole in her life and didn't need another'. You could only pray Brooklyn? kept her lips sealed about the whole ordeal. 

The door creaked open and the blonde poked her head, a smile breaking out on her soft features. "Hey, you're awake! I heard your alarm go off." She laughed airily, and somewhat nervously, before fully stepping into the room and tugging lightly at the shirt that almost covered her bare thighs. 

"You're wearing my shirt." You mumbled in a still drowsy tone. Besty (you were fairly certain her name started with a B) nodded, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she glanced down at the shirt and smoothed it out with the palm of her hands. For a girl you knew too much about- other than her goddamn name- due to your sister's inability to not complain about those close to her, she seemed awfully shy. She'd had her fair share of encounters from what you'd heard and you doubted you'd be the last one-night-stand. 

"I hope you don't mind. It was the first thing I saw when I got up and I didn't want to walk around shirtless." She chuckled and her eyes flickered up to meet yours, her smile turning mischievous. "Unless that's what you're into." Ah, there she was. The Bianca you knew from the countless parties you'd seen her in. Cheeky, sweet, and an overall hot mess that attracted trouble. 

You released a huff of amusement and pushed the covers off to get out of bed and slip on the first pair of pants you got your hands on. "You making something?" You asked, pulling out a shirt from your drawer. 

"Well, I planned on doing sunny-side-up eggs but I always end up burning them so I settled on scrambled instead," Berdie responded with a light shrug, her fingertips raising to toy with the silver necklace around her neck. Her cool and flirty demeanor faltered when you moved closer to her but she quickly covered it up by cupping your face and pressing her lips to yours. Her arms wrapped snugly around your shoulders and she let out a flustered giggle against your lips. 

But the moment felt too intimate, too close and domestic for your liking. With a family like yours, it was best to keep everyone else at arm's length. The Salingers destroyed whatever and whoever got too close, the things around them wilting and rotting at just the lightest touch. People were often ruined beyond salvage over the smallest of things. You'd lost count of how many careers and lives had been ruined by your family over a bruised ego or the slightest hint of rejection. 

Almost as if sensing your hesitance, Brianna pulled back and cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her reddened ear. "I bet your neighbors hate us. We were... pretty loud."

"The Daltons are too busy traveling Europe and ignoring their kids to care." You reassured her lightly, combing your fingers through her soft, frizzy hair. "I think we should probably talk about this... Guinevere." 

"How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Beck? Guinevere is... a lot." Beck. Close enough. "But, yeah, we should talk."

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Cyborg Savior

Author: ValandraWrites

Artist: squirrelofcelestialintent

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Castiel Past Castiel/April Past Sam/Jessica

Length: 73000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester Cyborg Castiel (Supernatural) Dean Winchester makes a deal with Crowley Young Dean Winchester Tattooed Castiel Cage Fighter Castiel Science Fiction EcoPunk

Posting Date: November 6, 2024

Summary: Castiel is an Alpha cyborg with a mysterious and dangerous past. His fists and cybernetic arm have solved almost every problem he's ever faced, except for when it comes to love. After losing the love of his life, he never thought he'd find someone again. Dean is a naive omega fleeing the dying farmlands to forge his own future. The restrictive, traditional community he’d been raised in never prepared him for being an omega in the slums of the city. When Dean makes a deal with Crowley, he doesn't realize he’s sold his soul until a cyborg who scares and intrigues him in equal parts steps in.  Will Castiel be able to save the day, or is he just as dangerous as everyone around them says he is?

Excerpt: Someone slapped Dean on the ass from behind with the cold outline of a metallic hand, and Castiel's cybernetic hand shot out with inhuman speed and clamped around the offending man's neck, metal digits pressing into vulnerable flesh. His blue eyes narrowed to icy slits, a cruel twist to his mouth. He stared the man down with a soul-withering look, not saying a word. The air crackled with barely restrained violence. "S-sorry, Castiel..." the man wheezed, face reddening. "Don't fucking apologize to me, you mongrel," Castiel snarled. "If it were my ass you'd slapped, you'd already be a smear on the floor." The man blanched, struggling futilely against Castiel's unbreakable grip, raw terror in his bulging eyes. "I...I didn't realize he was with you..." "Doesn't matter. I'm talking to him, aren't I? Keep your rusty paws to yourself unless you've paid for the privilege. Now apologize to him." "Sorry...won't happen again..." the man gasped out. Castiel's penetrating gaze shifted to Dean, and molten heat flooded Dean's chest, rising up his neck to his face. Castiel's hardened expression softened, his head tilting slightly. "Do you accept his apology, Dean?" "What? Oh, uh, yeah, it's fine. No harm done," Dean managed, pulse pounding in his ears. He felt flayed open, exposed, under the intensity of Castiel's stare. Those mercurial blue eyes shifted from sky to sapphire, taking Dean's breath away. With a dismissive shove to the shoulder, Castiel released the man. "Get the fuck out of my sight." His voice dripped with disdain. "Thanks," Dean said, trying for levity. "Maybe you should be my bodyguard all night." His joke fell flat as Castiel glared at him, eyes raking over Dean's body. Shame and desire warred within Dean. The muscle in Castiel's neck throbbed in time with Dean's racing heart. "Got a problem with your job? Take it up with Crowley. Otherwise, put those pretty bow legs to work." Castiel's words were gruff, but his heated gaze lingered on Dean's form appreciatively. Bending down, Castiel grabbed Dean's discarded drinks tray. He started to hand it over before snatching it back out of reach, a mischievous glint in his eye. "What do I get in return?" His eyes dipped hungrily to Dean's parted lips. Dean licked his lips nervously, noting how Castiel's eyes tracked the movement. "A sincere and heartfelt thank you?" His voice came out huskier than intended. Dean tried to look away, but he was entranced by Castiel's wide, sensual lips, and the tantalizing lines of metal and gearing that disappeared under his shirt, hinting at mysteries underneath.

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