#now it's easier to figure out on which finger which goes

[blanketempress]

Lorenzo's favorite (and newest) rings

[rs-hawk]

Kinkmas: Day Three

The Yeti

You’ve always hated camping. Actually, hating it is an understatement. You loathe it. Whoever invented camping can go get fucked, disrespectfully. However, when the rest of your Sorority Sisters beg you to go with them because they want to do “bonding” over Winter Break, you don’t feel like you have much of a choice. With a groan and constant complaining, you reluctantly go with them.

You all have your own tent, which you comment on how that really makes no sense if this is supposed to be a bonding thing, but they tell you even for bonding you need privacy. You’re annoyed, mad, cold, and now kind of scared as the night is coming and they put out the fire because no one is going to stay up with it. You want to offer to, but you’re also too scared to be out of the tent by yourself.

You have a fitful sleep, so when you hear a twig break outside, of course it wakes you up. Your mouth feels dry, and you’re shaking in your sleeping bag. Part of you wants to call out to see if it’s one of your Sisters, but you’re scared of the possibility that it’s not. So, you stay huddled in your sleeping bag, staring at the front of your tent, trying to make out any shape.

You feel relieved when you see that it does look like a humanoid figure. However, that doesn’t last long when you realize how large it is. Your mouth goes dry again, and tears prick your eyes. You purposefully picked the most secluded place. No one else should be out this far.

The figure makes its way to you, and before you could cry out, your tent is ripped open. Before you stands a giant creature with long, white hair, and a soft blue tint to its dark skin. You swallow hard when you see a large cock hanging between its-his- legs, and quiver when you notice it hardening as it regards you.

The creature grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and covering your mouth with one of his large hands. In a matter of moments, you’re far from the campsite, and approaching a cave. You start squirming, trying to escape the grasp of this thing, but to no avail. You get thrown down on a bed-like nest, your sleeping bag ripped off of your body as the creature shoved a finger down your throat.

You gag and drool around it as you try to push it away, but it’s no use. The creature rips off your clothing the same way he did your sleeping bag, and before you realize it, he shoves another of his large fingers inside of you.

You whine and squirm, trying to escape it. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and him moving it impossibly slow is still painful. The finger in your mouth pushes deeper, making you audibly gag. That’s when the creature seems to take a bit of care with you. He takes his finger away from your mouth, letting you take deep, greedily breathes.

“Please,” you pant, trying to push his hand away from you. “Stop.”

Of course, he does no such thing. Instead he pushes you down, his fat tongue licking down your neck before he begins to lick and suck on your nipples. Unable to help yourself or stop it, you whine in pleasure. The creature, which you finally recognize as a Yeti from stories, seems to take this as encouragement. The finger inside of you quickens it’s pace as he licks and sucks on your nipples, using his other hand to hold you against him. Your slick finally makes it easier for him to move deeper inside of you.

You let out a chorus of repressed and reluctant moans as he moves inside of you and pleasures you. As much as you hate to admit it, it feels amazing. He starts making his way down your body again, and his large mouth is sucking on your clit. You yelp, bucking your hips against him.

Fuck. Oh fuck.

You groan and whine, panting again as you approach your orgasm. However, just as he’s about to put you over the edge, he stops. You’re about to move to finish it yourself when he buries his massive cock inside of you. A cry bubbles up from your throat as he stretches you impossibly wide, his cock bullying directly into your cervix. You can feel his precum leaking into you as if coating your womb for his cum. You start begging him to stop. It’s too much, but he either doesn’t understand you or doesn’t care.

He repeatedly bullies his cock into your cervix, ramming into you enough to show an imprint of his cock in your stomach. He flips you over, shoving your face into the nest and making him feel so large you feel like you’re going to be split in half. You’re still on the edge of your orgasm, despite all this, so when he starts playing with and teasing your clit, you cum almost instantly. You tighten around his cock, drawing it somehow deeper into you. You grunt and whine as you spasm around him, gripping the nest under you.

In only a matter of moments, he cums deep inside of you, pumping you full of thick ropes of cum. Enough that it spills out of you, but he doesn’t stop. He moans and growls, cramming his cock as far as he can inside of you. All you can do is lay there and take it, and hope that after this, he takes you back to camp.

[zukkaoru]

dazai needing a cane post-meursault and he clearly hates using it so to make it more ~fun~ kenji buys several different packs of stickers for dazai to decorate his cane with. and dazai pulls out a fake smile and thanks him and proceeds to shove the sticker packs in his desk drawer and forget about them entirely. until kyouka approaches him a few weeks later and quietly tells him that kenji is worried he didn't like the stickers. and dazai, lying through his teeth says "oh, no, i really did like them! i just haven't decided which ones i want to use yet, they were all so good!" and he watches kyouka report this back to kenji and kenji looks so relieved that dazai figures. what the hell. and he digs out the stickers and pulls off the first one he sees and sticks it on his cane, then lifts it up so kenji can see. and kenji just starts beaming

for several more weeks, that sticker is the only one on the cane. and dazai keeps looking at it. and he'll rub his thumb over it. and it does kinda make having to use the cane more fun, because he's got a little cartoon cow with him wherever he goes too, and he can hear kenji's voice in his mind whenever he sees it saying something supportive that he fully believes with his entire heart to be true. and dazai runs his fingers over the cow so much that the colors start to fade and it starts to peel. so he takes all the stickers home, scrubs off the first one, and he spends hours painstakingly mapping out where to put different stickers and decorating the cane.

and it helps! because kenji didn't just get farm animal stickers - there are sticker sheets reminiscent of all the ada members. tigers for atsushi, bunnies for kyouka, cats for fukuzawa, snowflakes for jun'ichirou, candies and desserts for ranpo, a school-themed sticker sheet with notebooks and pens for kunikida, and one with various weapons for yosano. he still thinks the cane is stupid, and the stickers are stupid too, but they make him smile and it's easier to use the cane when he can at least get some entertainment out of looking at it. and maybe he buys slug stickers himself to add to the collection, and lucy gives him a sticker with the cafe's logo, and ranpo gives him a raccoon sticker and naomi and haruno find a cute flower-themed sticker sheet and suddenly the cane doesn't feel so much like a burden or a hinderance or a weakness. suddenly it's just another new part of himself he's found while with the agency, and it's a tangible reminder that he has more friends than he ever thought possible - people he trusts, people he cares about and who care about him in return. he has something like a family now, and they want the best for him, even when he doesn't want the best for himself

[sporadicthingcollection]

La faccia infarina (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy swears at a child, draws on his face, and experiences a revelation. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Word Count: ~1.4k. Warnings: Pregnancy mention, childbirth mention, a lot of swearing.

A/N: i'm ovulating so please enjoy an episode of what i like to call Reproducing With Men Who Should Not Be Trusted With Children.

Doing his makeup is much easier when there's no distractions to occupy him. Unfortunately, he's got a big one today and, for once, it isn't you trying to get into his pants.

Though that exact scenario is definitely what resulted in this new distraction. It was either that or the time after the party.

"Don't even think about it," Buggy says firmly.

Keeda grabs a drawer and tries to yank it open. A disembodied foot gently nudges him away. The boy stares at him in indignation, then blows a raspberry. He reaches again, whining when the foot still bars his way.

Buggy raises a brow at him. "Getting fresh, huh?" Another raspberry. "Floor privileges revoked."

He picks the boy up by the collar and plops him in his lap. He squeaks and squeals, trying to squirm away, but Buggy holds him tight.

"Y'know, I liked you better when you were a prop," he says. He swipes his lipstick along his cheeks. "You'd just lay there and make noises and shit yourself. None of this 'trying to kill yourself when I'm not looking' shtick."

Keeda resigns himself to his prison and is now pouting, making little huffs. He glances up with big, pleading eyes, lower lip quivering.

Buggy scoffs. "Don't try that pathos crap on me. I know what you look like when you're about to cry."

A long, low whine makes Buggy falter. Uh oh. He glances down.

Keeda lunges upwards, trying to grab the lipstick. Buggy pops his hand off just out of reach -- this is the expensive stuff. Can't have a baby eating it. Again.

"What's gotten into you today?" Keeda lunges again. Buggy pops his second hand off to cap the lipstick and stick it back in the drawer. "Sheesh, kid. Cool it."

"Bappo," Keeda says with a glare. Baby for pay attention to me, asshole, I'm right here.

A lightbulb goes off. He pulls a bag of pigment sticks from the drawer and dumps them onto the table. "You want your face done like Daddy's?" He spins the boy around to face the vanity. "Pick your war paint."

Keeda scans the selection and, with short chubby fingers, he selects a blue pigment stick. He then tries to shove it in his mouth, but Buggy grabs it before he can chomp it.

Buggy smiles as he regards the color. He was wearing this when he met you -- diamonds over his eyes as he tried to kill you. From hating his guts to fucking him stupid to bearing his child. How times change.

He takes the boy's cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. He can't believe he's still so damn small. A year in and he figured he'd be more... child-sized. Buggy's still afraid a strong breeze will shatter the kid like glass.

With gentle hands, he draws. Short strokes are best on soft, chubby skin with a lot of give. Keeda gazes at him all the while. He's got your eyes, warm and dark as charcoal.

Buggy licks his thumb and smooths out the edges. Keeda presses into his touch like a cat and gives him a smile, one that he can't help but return.

The idea of fatherhood terrified him. Horrified him. He thought about turning himself into the Marines right then and there. If his old captain couldn't do it, how could he be expected to do it? He's not half as competent as everyone seems to believe and you know he's a buffoon. Why would you want to have his kid?

Buggy finishes the diamonds and spins the boy to face the mirror. "Well?"

Keeda squints at himself. He touches his reflection. After a moment of contemplation, he speaks. "Fsshala."

He's been saying that a lot lately. You keep telling him that it's just nonsense babbling, but Buggy knows the truth.

"I agree," he says. "Let's make it flashy!"

He spins the boy back around, making him giggle. Truly the world's most remarkable sound.

He still doesn't have an answer for why you put yourself through nine months of pure terror. Was it your selfish desire for a family? Or did you see a truth hidden deep in his soul, so deep that he had no idea it existed until he held his son for the first time, still bright pink and howling?

Carefully, he traces two long lines up from the tips of the diamonds. He crosses them at the middle of his forehead, curls them into a heart, and adorns it with dots.

As is, Keeda looks more like you. Your dark hair, your dark eyes... and your nose, thank fucking god. He couldn't live with himself if his monstrosity was inheritable.

He was worried at first. How could he be sure that he's your son's father? He trusts you, but there was always that doubt gnawing at the back of his head until a few months in, when Keeda started getting expressive. In every giggle, in every glower, in every grin, there was Buggy the Clown.

Speaking of smiles, his mouth looks a little bare. A nice golden yellow would suit him.

Buggy picks up the pigment stick in one hand and smushes the boy's cheeks together with the other. "Pucker up, buttercup."

Keeda squirms a bit as he paints his mouth, swirling the corners up into cute little spirals. He licks his lips and sputters. "Pfeh!"

Buggy chuckles. "Weren't like that last week. You loved the stuff." He lifts the boy and spins him around to see his reflection. "Now you're lookin' more like your old man."

Keeda stares at himself. He tips his head one way, then the other. His eyes narrow and his brows furrow. He lets out a low, pensive whine.

Oh no. Does he not like it? Is he going to cry? Please don't cry. "Wait wait wait." He turns him around and lifts him to stand on his lap. "Don't get upset--"

A little spark flashes in the boy's eyes. The frown vanishes and he reaches up, tiny fingers grabbing for something.

Buggy's gotten enough hair ripped out to jerk away on impulse. "Something on my face?"

A tiny hand baps him on the nose. Buggy flinches. Fuckin' thing in the way again.

He angles his head, waiting for Keeda to tap what he was really aiming for. And again, he gets bapped right on the nose.

...no. There's no way.

Another bap, this time with an impatient glower. "Isso," Keeda says firmly. Baby talk for this.

Buggy's heart is in his throat as he picks up the red pigment stick. With shaky hands, he outlines the boy's nose -- a cute little button -- and draws a circle.

He swallows thickly. He clenches his jaw. He turns him around.

Keeda's eyes widen, then scrunch into crescents as he lets out a delighted squeal. "Papa!" he says, grinning up at Buggy. He flops backwards back into his lap, giggling and wiggling. "Papa!"

He's not sure how long he sits there at the vanity, listening to his baby chatter happily, but it must be awhile because you eventually come calling.

"Oh, there you guys are,” you say. "You chuckleheads having fun without me?"

"Amama!" Keeda stands in Buggy's lap and waves at you. He points at the mirror. "Issoooooo."

You appear at Buggy's shoulder, grinning brilliantly. "Aw, look at you," you croon. "Did Daddy do your makeup? Or did you get into his shit when he wasn't looking?"

Buggy's voice comes out in a tight croak. "I did it."

"Well, damn, it looks great! You never do my makeup that well--" Your gaze flickers to him in the mirror, and your smile vanishes. "...Are you crying?"

He sniffles. Loudly. "No."

You give him one of your do-you-need-a-psych-eval looks. "Bugs, your mascara's running."

Something hot and wet rolls down to his chin. "No, it's not."

You look at his reflection in the mirror, then back to him. "Either smile or cry. Doing both is freaking me out."

He wraps his arms around Keeda, pulling him close and squeezing him tight. "Fuckin' love you so much, you little shit," he murmurs into his hair.

Keeda squeals and giggles.

---

To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[ciitroner]

Rough Day

Ghoap x kidnapped!reader

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), afab!reader, noncon/dubcon-ish???, not proofread, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), cunnilingus, reader is kinda touch starved, dark fic, mentions of creampie, Simon and Johnny are mean :(, Simon calls Johnny “pup” (once), voyeurism, one-time-mention of pee (not piss kink), reader is restrained and threatened (kinda), Soap acts like a wild animal sorry that’s how it goes 🤷‍♀️, also reader refuses to call them by their names lol, tell me if I missed any!

The sounds of clinks and jingles can be heard as the numerous locks unlock on the door, “Fuuuck. Hate this fuckin’ job sometimes.” You hear a deep, frustrated voice groan, paralleling the whistling creak of the wooden rectangle. Some hefty objects, perhaps a few bags, are thrown on the ground, and another voice replies curtly, “Manners, Johnny.”

Their heavy footsteps slowly move around the house, which is located in the middle of pretty much nowhere. Your breath hitches when the steps move closer to the dark room you’re locked in, chained to the headboard of their shared bed. They don’t come in yet, though, acting as if you don’t even exist. Acting as if they didn’t take you away from your life, locking you up in a house for them to play dolly with you. “Eh? Dinnae act like yer not agreein’ with me, Lt” the muffled voice rumbles from the other side of your door, coming closer and closer, until a ray of light peeks through the doorcrack that keeps getting bigger. He swiftly moves into the room and turns on the ceiling light, a poor little lightbulb hanging by an old cord. The sudden shift in brightness makes you blink a few times until your eyes adjust. You’re sure they have way more money than they’re letting on; yet they keep their pretty prisoner in a humble house - which could only be described as something from a cliché horror film. “Hey, lassie.”

His eyes meet yours, and you writhe against the headboard, trying to break free - albeit for naught. Your wrists hurt from the previous numerous attempts, and you quickly give up and settle down when he moves into the room, sighing. He sheds his clothes, only leaving him in his boxers, before he lies down on the bed next to you, lifting your tank top slightly and circling his cold finger on your stomach - dipping it down to the hem of your sweatpants from time to time. You shiver slightly and let out an audible gasp, trying to squirm free from his touch. “Had a rough day, lovie. Dinnae test me, aye?” He kisses your tummy before squeezing your waist with one hand and holding up his head with the other whilst lying on his side. Ghost moves into the room, and your eyes shift to his figure in the doorway. Soap notices your absent eyes and looks behind him, “Simon, need’ta fuck her.” In which the masked man only shrugs, “Go on then, pup.” Before chucking off his clothes as well, changing into a pair of sweatpants, and sitting down on the bed beside you.

The creaking bed dips down to one side, and you look over at Ghost, his muscles left on display. He’s big, and that’s accentuated by the phone he pulls out. It’s small in his hands, and you bet that he’s pressed the wrong letter on the keyboard one too many times because of his big fingers - which are twice as large as one of your own. Without the mask, now replaced with a balaclava, you can much easier see his brown eyes, and the fluttering blonde eyelashes every time he blinks. He starts mindlessly scrolling somewhere, furrowing his brows sporadically, but your attention is quickly shifted back to the man now between your legs.

“C’mon, lift yer hips.” His hands find the hem of your pants, but you refuse to budge. As grateful you are for the two to be back, as human contact is near impossible in your… new life, you hate when they touch you. Ghost appears to understand your situation slightly, or at least he seems to pretend-empathize with the ill-fated girl lying on their bed, “Easy, Johnny. Poor thing looks like she’s about to wet herself.” He snorts, sharing a laugh with the man forcefully tugging your bottoms off. The panic in your eyes is clear as day, when he carelessly throws them somewhere behind him, letting them scatter on the slightly dusty wooden floor. His fingers find your clit, and he slowly circles it, playing with it like a toy while he converses with Ghost for a bit. You don’t listen in, but try to focus on not getting wet, though his skilled fingers and the shackles aren't giving you much freedom.

After a while of kicking his legs back and forth like a teenage girl talking to her crush whilst lying on her stomach, Soap turns his head to you - giving you a toothy grin. He positions himself on his knees, dick throbbing against his boxers. He grips your thighs and pulls you closer to him before removing his fingers from your clit and moving his head down to kiss it, darting out his tongue and licking down to your hole. “Fuck, hen, yer pussy n’ yer attitude are givin’ me two whole different signals.” He inhales loudly, and you let out a quiet whine. You’ve learned that they either like it when you talk back to them or hate it - which leads to you getting gagged; and not trying to test the waters - you bite your lips instead. “Only if ye were a wee bit better actor, maybe I’d believe yer complaints, bonnie.” And with that, he starts eating you out like a starving man. He leaves no place untouched, bites your inner thighs and grins when you close them on his head - trapping him between them.

His wet tongue glides over your glistening pussy, pushing it into you before travelling upwards. You choke back a sob of pleasure when two of his fingers start dancing around your hole while he sucks on your clit - biting it occasionally for the pleasure of hearing a moan leave your mouth. It’s downright filthy, and he keeps mumbling incoherent things to your pussy, before plunging his fingers into you. A loud whine leaves your mouth, followed by sweet little ah’s, which prompts him to groan against you. “Yeah, good girl, moanin’ like a bitch in heat.” Your head flies back and your toes curl at the third finger he crams into you. Pouting, you look to the side, not being able to bear the sight of Soap hunched over your bottom half like a wild man. Your eyes meet Ghost’s for a short second, before they travel down to the bulge between his pants, clearly aroused by the action going on beside him. His eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell he’s smiling at you before palming his clothed dick and looking down at Soap fingering you to oblivion.

Soap scissors his fingers and licks his name onto your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Suddenly, a loud mewl can be heard from you when you finally cum. Your eyes are closed shut, and only open when Ghost lightly slaps your cheeks, “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Come on.” You almost let out a scream when you’re met face to face with Soap. His jaw is wet, and his mouth is drooling. His leaking cock’s hard against your stomach and twitches slightly when he pulls you in for a deep kiss. “mmph taste so fuckin’ good” he moans against your mouth, biting your lower lip. One hand leaves your hips to guide his cock to your wet cunt, and you sigh because apparently, the concept of condoms doesn’t exist in the scot’s head. You feel like you need a break though, so when he tries to push in, you attempt to stop him with a weak, “W-wait I-”

His other hand leaves your hip and squishes your cheeks together until your lips form a cute little pout, which he can’t help but kiss. “Haud yer wheesht” he hisses, and pushes his cock into you faster than you’d like. Ghost pets your hair and softly speaks, “Don’t be greedy, let him cum and spread you out for me, hm?” Your lips quiver and they both laugh at you, “be a good girl, and you’ll get treated like a princess afterwards, love.”

[evenmoreofadisaster]

EMD ONE-SHOT

As promised I’ve written One and Two being protective siblings since we passed the prelims. Read below 🖤

One

Consciousness pulls to the forefront of One’s mind. The slider snaps awake to the quietness of his brother’s lab. He blinks once. Twice, before registering the fact that he had passed out. 

One sits up attentively from where he was sleeping against Two’s desk. “Oh, crap,” he hisses. “How long was I out?”

Nothing.

He’s trapped under a soft purple blanket that had been tossed lazily across his previously relaxed shoulders. One’s limbs fight for freedom, flailing around, eager to detangle from the cozy blanket, which he has no memory of cuddling up with. Finally free from his bounds, One climbs to his feet, clutching Two’s blanket in his hands. “Hey, if you were trying to get me to sleep, it didn’t work.”

Nothing. 

One frowns. Now that he’s more awake, he realizes that it’s dead silent. Not even the sound of light tinkering reaches his tympanum to put him at ease. The slider spins around, hoping that maybe Two had just fallen asleep as well, but no. His chair is empty. 

Dread seeps into his chest and his heart rate hammers as his eyes dart around the lab. 

Where is my brother?

One curses himself mentally and searches the rest of the house. Every room he passes leaves him feeling more and more anxious. The last time he left Two unsupervised, it didn’t end so well for his brother. One’s spent every day since then trying to prevent another accident from taking place and risking Two’s life. He was lucky that he only lost an arm that day.

Every room, he ends up back-tracking and walking through the hallway empty handed. He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not—

It hits him suddenly, like a wave crashing into a mountain of rocks, and he stops. A fuzzy memory resurfaces. Before he nodded off, Two had been talking about needing to stock up on scraps for future projects. One curses again, silently, in case Huginn and Muninn were perched somewhere nearby and heard him. It’s not unlike them to tattle to Dad whenever he misbehaves. This, especially, Draxum can’t find out about. 

There is only one place Two goes to to find junk for his toys. That’s on the surface. The one place that’s more dangerous than their own home. 

One rushes to his dad’s lab, thankful that his pops is out running errands, which makes stealing the blue mystic sword much easier. He’s only used it a couple of times before, under Draxum’s surveillance… but he can’t wait for his dad to come home and show him the right way to swing. 

He pauses, then slowly reaches for it. When his fingers brush the handle, he almost flinches away, but remembers that Two is up there alone. He picks the weapon off its display and draws a breath, concentrating. In a quick sweep, he makes a portal just big enough for him to squeeze through. It’s not perfect, he thinks to himself, but it’ll do.

One loops the weapon through the sash along his waist and steps through. 

Two

Repo’s scrapyard is just a few miles from the closest portal into the Hidden City. Two took the opportunity to slip away while Number One slept, figuring it would be a quick trip. After several days of sleeplessness, Two was sure One would not be awake for a while yet. By the time he noticed, Two will have returned with a wagon full of scraps. 

The sky is dark and the moon shines bright. Two pulls his wagon through a narrow alley and takes the route he’s less likely to run into humans, the route he always takes to get to the scrapyard. The paved path takes Two through the woods that are behind the junkyard. It’s usually quiet, which Two appreciates. One accompanies him on most of his trips, unless Two manages to sneak out while his brother is occupied with training or asleep, like today, for example.

He’s almost there. Just a few more steps, until he reaches the torn back fence that gives him full access to the human’s metal scraps. 

Something rustles far off to Two’s right, making him stop abruptly and swivel his head in that direction. An unsettling chill runs up his spine; the only weapon Two has is the brand new mechanical arm attached to his left shoulder, but even that is still in its early stages of development. He hasn’t had the chance to test out the new upgrades… 

Two hesitates, but continues forward slowly, trying not to make any sudden moves too quickly. He takes a step and hears a growl coming from the same place, and that makes him freeze. He turns his head and stares into the darkness, where he finds two glowing orbs staring right back at him. The animal snarls, baring its sharp, hungry teeth. It inches forward, its crazy eyes glued on him as if he were its prey. 

Two’s blood turns ice cold. His whole body tenses, prepared to fight. He’s certainly trapped, he can feel it even without looking. A fight would put him behind schedule, especially with untested weaponry and the months he’s spent out of practice. Two glances to the fence, thinking maybe he can make it if he runs. That was his first mistake. 

The animal attacks while he’s distracted. The next thing he sees is the animal’s teeth gnashing into his face. Two throws his new arm out in defense, hoping to fire a blast, but the machine's transformation stalls. Two curses sharply. The animal’s jaws lock tightly around his metallic wrist. It tugs and thrashes, jerking Two forwards with too much strength. He stumbles. The arm creaks and cracks and Two can feel the wires in his shoulder start to tear. Panic screams at him in spite of him and Two aims a fierce kick at the mutt. That was his second mistake. It pulls and Two loses his balance. He falls back and the animal rips the mechanical arm off with one violent jerk. Pain explodes in his shoulder, but he doesn’t even get the chance to cry out before the canine pins him to the ground with its claws. 

Something hard pierces his shell, probably a rock. The dull tip digs uncomfortably into his shell’s soft tissue, making him squirm and kick. The animal snarls in his face. Two flashes his teeth in a threatening hiss. But that’s all he can do. The thing is much bigger than he had anticipated, almost twice his size. 

A flash of blue blinds him and the next sound he hears is a sharp whine when Number One tackles the beast to the side. All at once the pressure lifts. Two sits up and scrambles back, his whole shoulder throbbing. 

He stares as One fights off the creature, apprehension stirring deep in his stomach when its teeth sink into One’s forearm and draws blood. It starts to pull him, like it had with Two, but One is much harder to throw around. He wrestles it to the ground, shoving its head into the ground until it’s forced to still. Two sees One lift his sword back and hears him swiftly bring it down through the animal’s neck. 

Silence hushes through the alley as the rabid canine draws its last breath, and One gets to his feet and steps back. He doesn’t move after that. 

Two stares at his back with wide eyes, silent, until One finally turns around. 

“You okay?”

Two frowns. One’s stare is vacant. He’s been seeing that a lot lately. 

“Are you?” He counters with a raised eyebrow. 

One’s eyes trail to his bleeding arm, but he just shakes off the injury as if he’s had worse. “What, this? This’s like a papercut.”

”Scoff. It certainly is not.”

He watches One cautiously as he comes over and kneels in front of him. He places his hand over Two’s and gently moves it so he can assess the damage to the stump at his shoulder. 

“You snuck out on me,” he says after a while. 

Two turns his head away dismissively. “I needed my supplies. You needed to sleep,” he huffs. 

“No, I needed to make sure you didn’t run off and get your fake arm torn off,” One retorts.

Two narrows his eyes and shrugs him off.

Number One rises and picks Two up by the back of his shirt. “C’mon, let’s get that shoulder cleaned up, okay?”

“I didn’t get what I came here for,” Two protests, but One is already waving the sword around, making a portal home. The blood-stained ōdachi falls at his side, then One faces Two and stretches out his injured hand that Two notices is shaking. 

“I’ll come back with you tomorrow,” he promises. Two bites back an argument and swallows it thickly. There’s a slight lump in his throat that makes him avert his gaze.

He hates to admit it… but if he had One to tag along as usual, this entire debacle, most likely, would not have happened. But now he’s lost a prototype prosthetic without even reaching the gates of his destination. If there had been people around, the commotion he stumbled into could have gotten him into much more trouble than he’d been equipped to handle. The whole thing was just another disaster. All of this he knows just as well as One, which is why he complies, taking his brother’s hand and follows him home. 

Two sits on the floor of the lab while One starts to assemble the tools needed to put his arm back in place. The softshell scowls when he sees Number One’s blood seep through the poorly wrapped bandages around his arm.

“Did you even clean it?” Two asks with a hint of distaste.

“I can do that later,” One crouches beside him and lays the tools out onto the floor. “So, what first?”

Two narrows his eyes. “No, you won’t.”

One lifts his gaze and holds Two’s stare. Two doesn’t look away. He raises an eyebrow. “You won’t.” 

“If you don’t tell me which thingy-majig does what I’m going to start guessing.”

Two’s eyes widen. “Do not do that, you’re going to mess it up!” One’s hand drifts towards the screwdriver and Two just about loses his mind. “Not that one!” he barks. One stops and gives Two a smug look which he meets with a glare. He huffs, then sighs and starts to explain the process of attachment, making sure One follows his directions to the letter. 

It takes much longer than Two would like, but finally, they reattach the mechanical arm and he can move it freely again. 

One leans back. “There, done.”

Two flexes his fingers and rolls his shoulder. It could do with a few tweaks, but it’s good for now. He looks at One again as he gathers the tools and puts them away. The previously white bandages are now a much darker red. 

After a moment, Two stands and approaches One. “Give me your arm.”

“What?”

Two stops and scowls. “Your arm. Let me see it.”

“I told you I was gonna—”

“Let me see it.”

One shifts, but stretches out his arm. Two grabs his wrist and unwraps the bandage around his forearm. Two’s nose scrunches up at the sticky mess under the wrap. One pulls back. “Don’t worry about it, I can take care of it.”

“I let you fix my arm,” Two retorts. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t really have a choice.” “Neither do you.” Two turns around before One can protest and takes out the medical kit in the back of his lab. He gets One to sit then sits in front of him just close enough that he doesn’t have to reach to clean One’s wound. 

Two drenches a cloth with alcohol and wipes away the blood staining One’s scales. Aside from a few grimaces and quiet hisses, One doesn’t complain any more. Neither of them say anything for a while, until Two cleans up enough red to be able to see the full size of the bite. 

“You need stitches. And something to ensure you haven’t contracted a virus.”

“You think so, doc?”

Two glares at him and One closes his mouth, which is usually impossible for him to accomplish. But Two’s been noticing that a lot as well. A lot of things have started to change recently and Two’s not sure he likes it. 

After a few beats of silence, Two retrieves a needle and wire. “I can sedate you, if you’d like.”

“Nah, I’m okay. I should stay awake in case you forget what Dad taught us.”

“I don’t need your help,” Two remarks sourly, then starts stitching. 

“Are you mad?”

The question takes Two off guard. He pauses, sensing One’s frown, but continues to poke the needle through. He doesn’t know the answer to that, so he doesn’t say anything. 

“You’re mad,” One states. “Why? Because I saved you?”

Two feels the corner of his mouth twitch. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mutters. 

“What, that dog thing showing up and attacking you?”

Two doesn’t answer that either, though his jaw tightens around an argument. He doesn’t want to fight right now. He hears One huff quietly. He doesn’t say anything else. Two continues to stitch him up in silence. When he’s finished, he wraps Number One’s arm with a fresh set of bandages. While Two puts away the medical supplies, One cradles his arm close to his chest. 

“Don’t tell Dad about this or we’ll both get in trouble,” he murmurs while rubbing his wrist. 

Two zips up the kit then lifts his head to look directly at One. 

“I would never.”

[17020s]

heyoooo!!

currently thinking about playing fight with isagi... your thoughts on this?

Have an amazing and wonderful day!:P

☆ TIME OUT!

Yoichi Isagi playfights with his significant other. 0.6k fluff, Isagi is sweaty, pet names "babe" and "baby" used, i want bllk moots pls hmu my ask box is ooopen!

YOICHI ISAGI comes home late.

He can't help it, it's his job to be a football player, and championships are just around the corner. When he gets home, he's exhausted, covered in sweat, and hungry. Extremely hungry. Whether he feels hunger for food or for his lover's touch—or both, he will never tell.

You always greet him when he comes home, you usually wait for him sitting on the couch, watching whatever comes up on television. He comes in, pecks your forehead, then heads to the kitchen to serve himself a plate of food. When he's not in the mood for a proper meal, though, he settles for a snack.

So it isn't a surprise for you when your boyfriend comes in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and mumbling an "I love you" then heading off to the kitchen. You hear the opening of cabinets as Yoichi looks for something to eat. By the sound of it, he's settling for a snack.

You hear Yoichi's voice as he desperately rummages through the cabinets. Realization hits, and you now know what he's looking for.

Shit. You have to run. Now.

Slowly and steadily, you stand from the couch, making your way towards the staircase. So far, you think, he hasn't noticed.

"Hey babe, where are those gummies that I bought a few days ago?"

Not hearing a response, he walks towards the couch. He notices your absence, and looks around. As he finds you half-way up the stairs, he squints his eyes as he takes a look at your figure. Something's off, he feels it. He moves closer, and you carefully step back.

As if some imaginary light bulb lights up next to Yoichi, he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. Unbelievable. How is he this oblivious?

Your lips are an odd shade of purple.

"Babe. Did you eat the gummies that were inside our cabinet?"

You quickly turn around, sprinting up the stairs. You curse Yoichi's athletic build as he catches up, picking you up with ease and throwing you over his shoulder. Your pleads and punches to his back have no effect on him, as he carries you towards your shared bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed, throwing himself on top of you. He's sweaty, and he knows it. He laughs as he nuzzles his head into your neck, and you feel his hair dripping wet from all the sweat. He places kisses on your neck, and you take this as the opportunity to strike back.

You move your hands, one grazes his ribcage. The other goes up to his neck, wanting to find that sweet spot near his collarbone. His laugh comes to an end, as he inhales sharply. Game over.

Yoichi Isagi was ticklish.

He looks up at you, his eyes were filled with terror. "You wouldn't—"

Your fingers move, and your boyfriend squirms, letting out chuckles which you've never heard before. He's vulnerable, so you take advantage and flip him over, you being on top made it easier to target Yoichi's weak spots.

"Time out! Time out!" he breathes.

You stop, and Yoichi catches his breath. His arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you towards him. Your head lays on his chest, you feel the vibrations from his chuckle.

"I really wanted those gummies, y'know?"

"And you're really sweaty, y'know?"

"Your fault you didn't tell me! I'm not mad, Yn. We can go to the convenience store tomorrow, but I need compensation."

You know him too well by now and know what he means by compensation. He wants kisses. You lift your body up and move so that you're facing Yoichi. You lean down, pecking his lips.

"How's that? A little taste test for my hungry boyfriend."

Yoichi quirks his brow, his hands now resting at your hips as his thumbs slowly draw circles. "You call that a taste test? Might have to kiss me again, don't wanna guess the wrong flavor" he mumbles.

You softly kiss his lips, this time a little longer than last. He hums as he kisses back, pouting when you pull away too early for his liking. What a needy baby.

"Hm... blueberry?"

[ilguna]

☼ thank you (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; Johanna and you have been fighting for years, but at Finnick's wedding, she changes her mind.

warnings; swearing, death, death in detail, gore, weapons.

wc; 2.7k

–

“I see them.” Brutus whispers, coming to a stop.

You get lower to the ground, carefully creeping around him to take a look for yourself to make sure he’s right. If you end up attacking the wrong people, then you’ll get yourself killed. Despite what he likes to think, you won’t be able to take both Johanna and Finnick, not that you want to anyway.

You trust Brutus to try and keep you alive if you were in a fight. He knows that it’d be easier to win if you had one person on your side up to the end. It’ll be harder to get through five people by yourself. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it’ll surely take longer to do.

Besides, you haven’t given him a reason to let you get killed, yet.

You see who he’s been tracking this entire time. They’re at least twenty feet down the hill, and you figure out who it is pretty quickly. Katniss’ signature braid and Johanna’s spiky hair is unmistakable, even in the darkness. 

Well, the good news is that they’d be easy to fuck with, if you had to. You could turn them against each other, making them split, track and then kill them. Unfortunately, that’s not what you’re here to do. It’s not them you're after, actually. It’s your ally, who’s standing behind you, completely oblivious to the plan you’ve been creating since the start of the Games.

It’s weird, it doesn’t feel right, being on the other side of things for once. It goes against everything you were taught in the Academy. The only people you’re supposed to trust are the careers, because everyone else outside of them could turn on you at any moment. While the careers hold an obligation to stay together for as long as possible to secure one of their wins.

It’s what you did in order to win. It’s what you’d do now, if that were the goal.

You willingly agreed to do this for Haymitch, though. You promised him that you could do this. You just didn’t realize how difficult it could be playing both sides. It hurt your heart to convince Cashmere and Gloss to attack the cornucopia, and it’s going to hurt more when you have to kill your mentor.

They don’t understand the importance of this. You can’t fail.

You need to find a way to cause trouble without making it obvious.

The issue is that it’s practically impossible with Katniss and Johanna. Katniss is naturally a suspicious and distrustful person. She moves quickly, especially with that bow, which means under no circumstances, can you be in view when you fuck with them. Johanna’s determined and aggressive, she won’t hesitate to kill you, either, to protect Katniss and the possibility of a successful rebellion.

This would be so much easier, if you’d just convinced Haymitch to let Johanna and Finnick in on the fact that you’re a part of the alliance. He insisted that it couldn’t happen because he couldn’t have them hesitating each time you attacked. It needed to be full movements, punches couldn’t be pulled.

“What are you thinking?” Brutus asks.

You let out a breath, watching as Katniss and Johanna disappear further down the hill. You look up the hill instead, and with the help of the moonlight shining through the trees, you find something sparkling in the light. It’s a long golden line that disappears into thin air.

You sneak out from behind the bush, heading straight for it. As you get closer, you’re able to see that it’s some type of string. When you gently run your fingers over it, you realize that it’s a wire, Beetee’s wire. The one he risked his life for during the bloodbath. You got him across the back, but it wasn’t that deep of a cut.

It’s a tight wire, and it wiggles every now and then from being jostled. That means that one end is secured, and the other is the spool. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the boys must be at the secure end, and they sent Johanna and Katniss down with the spool, but you can’t fathom why. What’s a wire going to do?

It doesn’t matter. If they’re planning a trap, they’re not going to get the satisfaction of seeing it through. You won’t be going up to the boys, because there’s no need to, if Katniss and Johanna are right here. Technically, you were told to act like you’re going after Katniss, and to forget about Peeta. He’s going to be taken care of by someone else.

“The guys are up there.” You point to Brutus, “That’s Finnick, Peeta and Beetee. They’ll be easier to take later on. We need to get Katniss and Johanna while we can.”

Brutus nods, “They’re split up, it’s the perfect time to do it.”

“Exactly.” You hook your finger around the wire, “They have the other end. We should cut it and go around.”

He nods, you pull out your knife. You’re going to alert both ends that you’re here, which will close your window significantly. You take in a deep breath, readying yourself. You slice upwards, the wire cuts the back of your hand when it recoils. You grit your teeth, watching the blood spring out.

You get to your feet, hurrying down the slope, Brutus right on your heels. You make it down to where Johanna and Katniss disappeared. You slip, barely catching yourself as you slide down loose dirt. At the bottom, you’re able to see Katniss, laid out on her back, blood gushing from her forearm.

The tracker is out.

“She’s as good as dead!” Brutus shouts, “Come on, (Y/n)!”

It must be happening tonight then, which means you need to get this show on the road. If they’re rescuing the victors tonight, Brutus needs to be dead and you have to figure out where they’re retrieving the victors. If you stay, you’ll get caught by the Capitol.

You take off after Brutus, readying the knife in your hands. You can’t take him head-on, the only option is to attack him from behind. He’s so much quicker than you are, and he’s gaining on Johanna, who had a head start to get away. You’re hoping to kill Brutus and let Johanna get away, until she twists herself around, axe ready to fight.

She swings at Brutus, he jumps back, you jerk at her. She changes her attention to you, and you can see her expression harden. You watch as she turns her body to you entirely, forgetting about Brutus. Johanna would love nothing more than to kill you, after years of threatening to do it.

She won’t get her chance. 

She swings at you, you dodge, passing your knife to the other hand, going to slam it through her arm. She can be harmed, the only thing you were told was that she couldn’t be killed. They’d prefer if she were alive, because it’d be easier if more victors were alive to support Katniss’ cause.

Johanna twists away, you grab the handle of the axe, fighting her for it. Brutus reaches for her, trying to take her out while she’s distracted. She swings her elbow back, baring teeth at Brutus, fist slamming into his jaw. You yank on the axe, she lets go because she’s focused on Brutus.

With both of your hands, you strike upwards towards Brutus’ neck. The axe slices through skin and muscle, a fountain of warm blood rains down on you and Johanna. You let go, Brutus stumbles back, hands on the blade, before his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Johanna’s got a fistful of your hair, her other hand balled up and aimed for your face. You can feel the ground shake when Brutus collapses. There is no cannon right now, but there will be one soon.

You catch Johanna’s wrist, twisting her to the ground, nails digging into her flesh to get her to let go. She doesn’t care, she pulls you down, making you fall on top of her.

“Let go of me!” You snarl, your scalp is screaming at you.

You can’t help it, you don’t even realize you’ve slammed your knife through her forearm until she lets out a scream. Her grasp loosens enough for you to be able to push her shoulders down harshly. When she tries to grab at you again, you break her nose with a single punch.

You back off of her, gasping. You reach up to touch the area she had been ripping hair out of, and it’s tender to the touch. Johanna’s got a hand over her nose, but she’s already getting up, ready for another fight. Brutus’ cannon blasts.

“That’s it?” She taunts, there’s blood running down her chin, and her arm.

You get to your feet, “We’re allies, you fucking freak.”

“Right.” She lets out a bitter laugh, “Good one.”

You reach into your wetsuit, feeling around your sports bra until you find the gold ring that you were given by Haymitch. You pull it out, watching as it catches the light. Johanna stares at you for a long moment, squinting her eyes.

“He didn’t tell us about you.” She spits.

“That’s because you guys wouldn’t be able to be subtle for the life of you.” You snap, “You’re not very discreet, moron.” 

You’d say she’s disgusted, but she always has that stupid look on her face. Johanna gets to her feet, rolling her shoulders. You prepare for her to come at you for another fight, but she waves you off.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching her walk away.

“Back to the tree.” She mutters, “Feel free to stay here.”

“What about Katniss?” 

“She’ll find her way back, she’s a big girl.” Johanna sends you a look over her shoulder, “Guess you’re just as clueless as we are. Or Haymitch doesn’t trust you.”

“Trusted me enough to ask me to do this.” You glare at the back of her head, “And you owe me a ‘thank you’ by the way.”

“For what? Stabbing me and breaking my nose?” She snaps.

“For saving your life.” You correct her.

She lets out a loud laugh, turning to face you, “You think I couldn’t take Brutus on my own?”

“You couldn’t even hold onto a goddamn axe correctly to keep me from grabbing it. I’m pretty sure you’d be dead right now if it weren’t for me.” You roll your eyes.

“I was fighting the both of you off.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, and now you’re playing the victim, as per usual.”

You watch her nose flare, “Get the fuck away from me!”

“What? You don’t like getting your own treatment?” You laugh, going to pass her, “Go-fucking-figure. Johanna Mason can piss off anyone, but as soon as it’s her turn, she wants to cry about it.”

A sharp pain explodes across your jaw.

—

A wedding in the middle of a rebellion, truly tasteful of Plutarch to come up with. You can’t say you’re that surprised though, he comes from the Capitol. What you can’t believe is that Finnick and Annie actually agreed to let it happen, and for it to be used as propaganda.

If you were in their shoes, you’d wait until you’re back home before you celebrate something so big. In District Two, a wedding is nothing to shrug off, it’s an important event. Most weddings take place outdoors because of the fresh air, and it’s always the perfect temperature for it. All clothes must be made to request to make sure that they’re original. A singular wedding in Two can have hundreds of guests, some of them being people you’ve never met before, but come to celebrate with gifts and drinks.

You guess it’s not all that different for them right now. They’ve got each other, a few friends that they know, and hundreds of District Twelve and Thirteen citizens that they’ve never met before. At least back home you know that people will be respectful because you share the same culture. Here, you’re afraid to step on any toes.

You couldn’t imagine getting married in a cement chamber.

Regardless, you’re happy for them. Even though Plutarch asked you to come so that you’d show up in the propo footage—you’d planned on coming anyway. Finnick had personally invited you, he wanted to make sure that you were here. After all, you’re the reason why you were all rescued at the tree, instead of sent to the Capitol.

Well, with the exception of Peeta, since he went running into the woods after Finnick told him to stay put at the tree. Had he just listened, the only person that would’ve needed to be rescued from the Capitol is Annie. Everyone else would’ve been here.

The beat that everyone’s dancing two gets faster, forcing the rest of you to catch up, clapping to the beat to keep up. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Johanna approaching Katniss. They talk for a minute, and then Katniss carefully joins the dancing crowd, blending in easily, since it’s a dance from her district. 

They’re jumping, laughing, spinning, joining hands to create one large circle together. 

You don’t even realize Johanna’s snuck up next to you until she’s speaking, “What? You aren’t going to join them for attention?”

You roll your eyes, “Let me guess, you’re too prideful to join?”

You and her share a long look. The corners of her lips twitch, and she lets out a laugh, turning away, “I would, but I don’t know the steps.”

“Neither do I.” You admit. “District Two has something similar to what Finnick’s doing, but I think he made that up on the spot.”

“Show me.” Johanna motions at you.

Your face twists, “I need a partner, I can’t do it alone. It won’t look right.”

Johanna holds her hands out, waiting for you to take them. You don’t take them right away, shocked that she’s even insisting in the first place. Although, you’re not sure why. In the weeks after being rescued from the arena, you and Johanna have become more friendly with each other. It has something to do with the fact that you live in the same place, have the same friends, and see each other frequently. You’re practically friends.

This doesn’t stop her from starting every conversation with an insult.

“Keep up.” You take her hands, pulling her towards you, “Because we don’t do slow.”

Johanna grins.

You start by teaching her the steps, gradually getting faster. She watches how fast you move your feet, the way you’ll move your hands. You spin her, pull her back, twist, drop, let go. It’s a pattern that she begins to recognize over time, even though it’s a long number.

There’s a genuine laugh coming out of Johanna, her cheeks a gentle shade of red. She pushes the hair out of her face to give her a better look at what she’s doing. You twirl her, making her trip over her feet on purpose. She grabs onto your shoulder, and you dip her down slightly.

She’s breathing hard, trying to catch her breath. You return her back to her feet, letting go. You can see that everyone else has stopped dancing, they’ve turned their attention to see the cake that’s been wheeled into the room. It’s beautiful, and it’s almost unbelievable.

“(Y/n).” Johanna murmurs.

You turn to look at her, two hands grab either side of your face, and warm lips press to yours. You grab the wrists tightly, carefully pulling away to see Johanna watching you, gauging your reaction.

A smirk comes over your face, “Don’t go soft on me now.”

“Shut up.” She pulls her wrists from your hands, you don’t fight her. She crosses her arms over her chest. You two stand quietly, watching Finnick and Annie get ready to cut the cake. “That was a thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” You ask, eyebrows twitching.

“For saving my life in the arena.”

You bump your shoulder into hers, “Anytime, Johanna.”

[h0ney-mochi]

Honey! Sub wanderer wishing for a lover due that he was desperate to feel loved then long story short he got himself tall reader! And since reader was tall m!scara got a boner just by look at em working out??????

Wanderer x reader ;; readers pronouns not mentioned

SMUT/NSFW CONTENT (reader is tall, implied? sub!wanderer / sub!scaramouche, jerking off, wanderer has dirty fantasies abt u, short scenario)

Summary: You're working out again — unaware of your partner jerkin off to you, out of your sight.

A/n: Not proofread. I don't really know how to do tall reader, but I tried. Not much knowledge in what goes on in workouts either so *coughs* my apologies. Writing this while listening to a writing event playlist I made mwahaha

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

His prayers were answered, so to speak. Wanderer wanted someone to love him, feel a gentle touch on him, be cared for. Oh how lucky he felt when you became his romantic partner and accompanied him on his travels around.

Except he can't help, but get a little nervous at the fact you're taller than him — he has to look up a bit to see your face. He's not complaining though! Mainly because you workout, which makes you stronger, which means battles and whatnot get easier when it's the two of you.

Also because Wanderer gets to see you work. The focus in your eyes. Your hands. Your body tense up, whatever.

It's happening again, he's watching you workout from behind somewhere. Yes, he's always mean to you, but now — you don't notice him. You don't notice how he stares at each part of your body, how he has to stop himself from drooling. There's even a thought of you manhadling him.

Oh, he's getting hard.

It's embarrassing, he thinks, moving a hand down to his shorts. He's sharp with his tongue, but when you don't see him, he's gasping, weak in the knees from fantasies of you.

Wanderer is quick to get his hand past his boxers, spit on his dick. Eyes stuck on your figure as you take a moment to drink, hand jerking himself off. His other hand is above his mouth, in case if he gets loud. God forbid if you found out. What if you made fun of him? Well, doubt you would, but?

He sucks in a breath, fingers tracing over the tip of his dick, quicker. He's not sure how long he will be able to hold back on his fantasies — he'll have to tell you one day, no?

But that day is not today.

And so he speeds up his hand again, bucking his hips, eyes getting hazy at your movements in the distance. Oh, could you crush his head between your thighs? Could you? If you can easily lift that, surely you can lift him up and push him against the wall too?

Moans fall past his lips, not too loud, but he still grips his mouth. Wanderer wonders — one day you could get fed up with him and just use your strong body to put him back into place. Look down at him with that smirk you give him when he's rolling his eyes at you easily getting rid of hilichurls.

What's stopping you? Are you holding back on purpose? Or do you not want to give him what he wants, needs?

With a slightly louder groan he finishes all over his hand, knees getting weaker. Wanderer leans onto the wall for balance, sighing, still staring. Will you snap at him one day and show him your strength in bed?

Thank you for the ask ! Have a good day with your tea <3

© h0ney-mochi 2023 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[mazeinthemiroh]

Headcanon how skz would confess to their crush?

how stray kids would confess to their crush

genre: headcanons; fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: cursing, i got emotionally invested in hyunjin's and jeongin's so ignore me

pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3

bangchan

there's not a lot helping this man honestly

he spends days racking his brain for a good way to tell you that he is completely and utterly in love with you

should he make a grand gesture?

should he be smooth and nonchalant with it?

he's a libra so his indecisiveness is sort of a given lmao same bro

he even consults stays on his weekly channie's room live, only to be spammed with various ultra cheesy pick-up lines

if you were a transformer, you'd be Optimus fine

he ends up trying to do it on a whim

which is unlike him. he tends to plan everything to a T

but he feels that with feelings like love, there's not much to plan. he forces himself to be impulsive

and it works!

he makes it a casual affair: just two friends hanging out in a familiar setting (chan needed the familiarity to calm his nerves a bit)

and he just came out with it

"listen, i know we've been friends for a while. but i can't help the romantic feelings i now have."

he'd give a little shy smile, his eyes trying to look into yours but he can't hold your gaze for long enough.

"so, i was thinking maybe we could... go out? i'd think we'd be really good together."

lee know

my gosh

it takes so freaking long for minho to confess to you it's actually frustrating

infuriating, even

you guys are practically dating anyway with the way you flirt and feel comfortable with each other

people see you guys together in public and assume that you're already dating

so YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE

but nothing was confirmed

no words solidified a definite bond

so things felt a bit uncertain, even with the definite mutual liking between you both

minho takes his sweet time that's for sure

he just wants to be certain that you like him the way he does too. sometimes he has a hard time differentiating between people who are being friendly compared with people who are actively taking a romantic interest

he wants to make sure his feelings are being reciprocated in a genuine way

it's hard to read people sometimes

once he's certain that you like him the way he does, he will just come out and say it

"hey, you wanna go out with me?"

he would say it with a little, shy side grin. i mean how can you say no to that??

changbin

changbin is not-so-subtle about his feelings for you

it's written all over his face from as soon as you walk in the room

he's wrapped around your finger

and he's confident in himself too

so there's nothing really stopping him from just going up and asking you out

but he needs to know where your heads at before he makes THE move

considering he hangs out with you a whole lot anyway, this comes quite easily to him

"are you interested in someone at the moment?"

he'd ask. and you'd answer, "yes actually." and his plan goes downhill from there.

does that mean you're interested in someone else or... or maybe it means you're interested in him??

"oh? who's that then?" he'd ask, a jealous tone not well-hidden

"oh i can't say," you'd shake your head playfully.

he's suddenly quiet when he figures out what you're trying to insinuate. he'd thought this'll be easier.

you'd give him some help at this point

"but he's got an outgoing personality. big muscles. and a handsome face, too." you'd smile at him knowingly, hoping he'd take the hint.

he almost laughs at himself for not realising before. that's all the reassurance he needs.

"well, from what i hear, he likes you too. a lot."

hyunjin

oh, my precious hyunne

this man would only ever fall for someone who is really close to him

i'm talking best friends, joint at the hip, couldn't live without the type of closeness you share

you're his no. 1

and you know it

spending a lot of time with hyunjin on a regular basis and you know that, just by the way you catch him looking at you, there is something much more than friendship taking place

one time you were sitting on the living room floor with him, laughing your heads off

it was late and night and obviously, the perfect time for hyunjin to do your makeup

because why the heck not

he's making you look like a clown. why did he choose that shade of eyeshadow? and why is lipstick on your cheeks

"you look so much better like this" hyunjin teased in between hysterical laughs

"shut uppp hwang hyunjin!" you tried to push him away and prevent him from doing any more. "just you wait until i do your makeup."

after the laughter settled down he looked at you with a loving gaze. that was when you both realised how close you were together. there was such an immense fondness in his eyes that told you everything you need to know

and soon, his lips were connected to yours

his confession.

han

being close to han is your gateway to his mind

it's hard to imagine that someone like han, who can be quite hesitant and awkward with getting too close to people despite being loud and usually the first one to break the ice

that he could be so naturally himself with you

even as a friend, he's quite touchy. usually reaching out to hold your hand or pulling you in for a cuddle on the sofa

that's how you know that he likes you before he even confesses

he's not like this with anyone

it'd be when you are cuddling up together, pizza all eaten and anime playing on the tv

this was perfect.

han would let out a big, content sigh and nuzzle into you

the absent-minded phrase of "i love you" would slip out in this peaceful moment

and suddenly you both forget how to breathe. you raised your head off his shoulder.

"huh?"

"huh?"

...

the silence was unbearable

"i mean uh... i love this anime. yeah. it's my favourite. i've actually watched the whole thing so i don't know why i'm watching it again. anyways *fake yawns* it's getting late, i might go to bed."

you just chuckled at him, feeling so relieved of his feelings for you.

very smooth, han. very smooth.

felix

i'm so on the fence about him

like i can totally see him being hella romantic and thinking the whole thing through

he'll end up buying you flowers and a box of chocolates, you know, the cliche things that a cute af

and he will knock on your door and present you with these things with a beaming smile and some sweet words to serenade you off to the land of romance

OR

he will confess to you all at once

no warning, no coherent reasoning, no thought behind those eyes

just felix's enfp brain going absolutely haywire, we love to see it

i usually go with the latter for him. because, while he is super duper romantic and wants his feelings to come out in a perfectly curated way, the likelihood is that his intense feelings for you will get the better of him

he can't hold himself back before he even thinks about it

"you're so gorgeous"

he'd say as he looked at you from across the kitchen. the both of you had just finished making brownies together and felix couldn't help but find you the most attractive you have ever been right now

"oh?" you'd say, taken aback by his forwardness

felix's heart dropped for a second. but that feeling was momentary. he soon felt light and happy, and a smile breezed over his face

"yeah" he'd reply, warmly, "so gorgeous, i might even give you a little kiss"

seungmin

seungmin is so precious CAN WE TAKE A MOMENT TO APPRECIATE THAT

he is just so ;-;

anyways he thinks long and hard about confessing to you

which, in other words, means he puts off confessing to you for like so many stupid-ass reasons

what's putting you off seungmin? the candles? the moonlight? the fact that your venus isn't in retrograde???

like JUST DO IT

he builds up to it though, bless him

it's just in his nature. he wants to pace himself STREAM MY PACE BTW

he might warm up to it. perhaps becoming more bolder with his compliments for you

"that colour really suits you"

"you should style your hair like that more often"

"i find it so easy to talk to you, which is a rare feeling for me, honestly"

and soon he's buying you cute little gifts

"i saw this and thought of you"

i mean that's code for 'i love you' anyways but whatever

he finally gives you a very personal gift for you, with a note attached to it: "to the person i love most. you deserve it"

why you gotta make us cry like that seungmin, gosh??

jeongin

jeongin found it harder talking to you in person

he can be a shy bean at times

an absolute cutie-pie

but he didn't want you to just know him for his shyer side. he didn't want his social hesitance to push you away from getting to know the real him

luckily, you had each other's numbers

and the texting was constant

staying up all night just talking to each other. you both got zero sleep but the rush, the joy, the familiarity of these texts were more tempting than any type of sleep was

you got to see his witty, intelligent personality. his sense of humour. you got used to the way he teased you, and boy did you like it

these interactions made it ten times easier to talk to each other in person

but one night, jeongin confessed to you

"i fucking love you btw"

he wasn't drunk. he supposed he was sort of... caught up in the moment. it came out of nowhere.

waiting for your response was torture

he waited, and waited

and waited some more

nothing.

until the next time you met face to face. he was dreading this interaction until you grabbed him swiftly. your lips connected in passionate bliss until you both pulled away

"i fucking love you too"

[levelsevenlaserlotus]

Unsettle Me

This contains adult content, minors dni 18+

AN: Trying something new here so please be kind ❤️ Might expand on this depending on whether or not you guys would be interested.

Pairings: Dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, Stalking, Non Consensual Sex, Somnophilia, Violence, Obsessive Behavior and just general creepiness.

Summary: Someone’s been in your apartment, you know this because when you come home from work, dinners waiting for you.

Words: 881

Masterlist Part 2

You’re still shivering and dripping water as you walk up the three flights of stairs to your shitty New York City apartment. You had just gotten back from a five-hour shift on top of your full load of college courses. The only thing you wanted to do was collapse into bed and not wake up for at least a week, but you still had to finish your essay on the Cold War.

You’re yawning as you shove the key into the keyhole in the door, and step inside, but the sight on your kitchen countertop has you alert at once. A piping hot plate of food sits at the ready. You shuffle closer to take in the food in front of you.

Rosemary and lemon chicken breast, grilled asparagus and crispy potatoes, and a bottle of red wine with a glass already poured for you. The food is hot, you can see the steam coming off the plate as if someone had cooked it minutes ago.

You stop, your heart beating wildly as you work over what this means. You didn’t see anyone coming down the stairs as you went up…was someone in your apartment now?

Your eyes flick around your studio apartment, looking for any potential hiding spots, the closet opposite your bed was open, the space too small for anyone to hide in any way. Your eyes fall to the floor, peering into the darkness under your bed, your hand reaching into your coat pocket to get a grip on your keys. Your hands are sweating and you fumble to get the keys into the spaces between your fingers the way you were taught.

You crouch down slowly as I’d you were approaching a wild animal which you very well could be and pull your phone out in your free hand, the light of the screen illuminating the dark space. Nothing but plastic storage containers with your winter clothing.

You sigh in relief but the tension in your body doesn't leave, someone was in your apartment recently too. You swallow hard, considering your options, you suppose you could call the police but what good would that do? You had no evidence other than the food on your kitchen counter, if anything they would think you were some stupid college kids trying to pull a prank.

You turn and study the door to your apartment, there was no physical indication that anyone had forced their way into your home. Whoever it was must have their key, a chill goes up your spine at the thought.

You end up dragging the small bookcase across the length of your apartment to barricade the front door. Having something physical in between you and any possible intruder made you breathe a little easier.

Turning back to your supposed dinner you take a closer look, picking up the knife and fork already set out and cutting into the chicken breast. The skin was brown and crispy, the inside juicy and cooked perfectly. Your mouth waters at the sight.

You take a closer look at the bottle of wine, the label was in French but you recognized the name from a few upscale restaurants. Expensive, four figures expensive and only sold by the bottle.

Grimacing at the sight before you and all it indicates you carry the plate over and scrape the food into the trash without a second thought. You turn and take the bottle of wine and the glass too, as you go to pour it down the drain the sight of dirty dishes in the sink stops you.

A small frying pan, already soaking, a few miscellaneous bowls and utensils wet and soapy, almost as if someone was in the middle of doing dishes before they were interrupted.

You don't notice your shaking until you hear the smash of the plate you were holding shatter against the hardwood floors. It takes another moment to realize your beading slightly, the red liquid oozing out of your finger fascinates you before it alarms you.

Stepping over the broken ceramic you fetch a tissue to tamper the blood dripping down the side of your thumb. Your body’s slower, less fluid as you sweep up the shattered remains of the plate, your eyes unable to leave the view of the front door.

You shower with the bathroom door ajar and the curtain open, the busted shower heads getting water all over the floor but you are too paranoid to care. You’ll clean it up later. You’re skin itchy as you scrub yourself with a loofah and rub lotion into your skin.

You’re no longer shaking as you clumsily prepare for bed, pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head and slipping on a cotton thong. You curl up on your side, your eyes trained on the door 20 feet away. You slip in and out of sleep, snapping awake before exhaustion pulls you back under.

Just two miles north of you, Natasha watches you through her computer screen, her face impassive as she watches you sleep. Annoyance flares up in her when she remembers you didn’t eat the dinner she made for you or anything else for that matter. She sighed, you barely took care of yourself but it was okay, that’s why she was there.

[an-au-blog]

Thought: so many merman buggy aus out there and so little merman Shanks. I get it, Buggy lends himself to being a pretty bluehaired merman and the clownfish pun is too good to ignore. But god I love the idea of kid Buggy getting thrown overboard and almost drowning until a mysterious redheaded figure saves him. Buggy waking up on shore and seeing someone sitting crosslegged with their back turned to him, stumbling to get up and drowsily walking over to said figure, who turns around towards him and Buggy’s eyes are still foggy, but those pants are extremely baggy and he tries to wrap his mind around how this guys sitting „Oh thank god you’re awake! Almost thought you wouldn’t make it.“ Buggy’s eyes focus and he takes in the young boys features. Red hair, tan skin, pretty brown eyes, not wearing a shirt. And then Buggy comes even more to himself as the boy continues babbling on „Easy! Sit down for a second. I don’t know if walking is supposed to look like this but you’re pretty wobbly.“ That kid has a really sharp set of teeth… and there seems to be something wrong with his hands, his fingers connected by a paperlike membrane up to his knuckles. And finally Buggy’s eyes fall down further and he notices the reason why he couldn’t make out how the other guy was sitting for a second. „… I can’t believe it.“ most people were lucky if they ever got a glimpse of merfolk once in their life. Now Buggy is talking to one eye to eye.

Just… let Buggy fall in love with creature!shanks for once. Let that clown be swept off his feet by a handsome merman! You could even have OG Shuggy breakup angst in there. Shanks basically becoming a member of Rogers crew right away when he brings Buggy back to ship, being an invaluable asset due to his abilities, which Buggy grows incredibly jealous of, especially since he is still cursed with his Chop Chop Abilities. And then it goes to shit after Roger’s dead because Buggy learns that Shanks wants to become HUMAN, even tough Buggy would slit a throat to be a merman like Shanks and Shanks doesn’t even want to go after the One Piece? It feels like a slap to his face. Shanks meanwhile has been wanting to become human for ages just because he feels him being a merman has kept him from his chosen family for too long. Rogers death just cemented that in his brain even more. He was never able to see the same places all of his friends did, he was the one waiting by the ship when everyone boarded land and went exploring. He was keenly aware how different him and his best friend were not just in personality, where they balanced each other out he felt, but on a fundamental level as well. That’s why he never took the initiative to take Buggy’s hand when they where both laying on the beach and talking about the future. That’s why he never asked to kiss Buggy because he feared the rejection. If he could just be human things would be easier. He could dance on the deck and drink with his best friend and he could help Roger fight and he could- well he just could have all he ever wanted! He would miss diving and the ocean and the way he could just FEEL the weather change with just a slight change in current, but even if he lost all that, it would be worth it.

And then he gets what he wants just to see his father figure get executed and watches Buggy storm away in the rain and he balls his fists at his side in despair because how was any of this fair?

Yyy i adore this! I like how it's a switch-up in the usual au standard ::D

I love the idea of having Buggy kinda swoon at first sight. Mermaids are already fabled to be these magnificent beings, rivaling the beautiful of any land dweller.

Shanks is a sight to behold. And yes, Buggy had never seen a mermaid, but even if he had, he doubts they'd like him. His charisma, his shine, his entire existence made Buggy gawk in awe.

When he became part of the crew Buggy was so happy. He couldn't even believe it! He was happy because not only does he get to see his new friend every day, but he actually gets to have one.

Slowly he realizes it's... well, to say it lightly, not as idealistic. Still, one of his favorite things was when they swam together. Whenever Buggy's feet touched the water, be could never stay truly mad at him. Shanks was an undeniably better swimmer, but he would take him to the prettiest reefs, the coolest fish, and the best views. Maybe even one time, they were under water for so long that Buggy forgot he needed air, so Shanks shared his own. He could breath under water so it was a bit like giving first aid mouth to mouth, but Buggy always liked to thunk of it as their first kiss... No one else thought of it as such. He couldn't even dream of asking but it was a delusion that kept him satiated.

He loved the ocean. And he loved Shanks. And their life was bliss at sea.

But then the unspeakable happened and he ate something he was never supposed to. No... he didn't eat it, he was forced to because of Shanks. That was something he would never forgive him. From then on seeing Shanks swim was only a painful reminder. It felt like salt in a wound.

To make it all worse, he finds out Shanks wanted to give it all away? Everything they had? Their legacy, the sea! And for what? A pair of boney legs???

On the other hand...

Shanks had felt Buggy slowly getting more and more standoffish towards him and he couldn't do anything about it. He could never be with the crew, not in any meaningful way. There were so many things he wanted to do on solid ground. And of course the crew got to do all the exciting adventuring, but all he got to do hear about it. To top it all off, even when his captain was being executed, he couldn't be there for him. He felt like a liability more than anything and he hated it.

So when Buggy came back upset, Shanks decided to tell him what he felt, open up. Let's say it went less then ideal. Buggy left for good, his father figure was dead and he couldn't even be with him in his last moments, he was cursed with this damn tale when the ones his heart went out to where on land.

... He was lost.

A decade or so, Buggy almost drowns. He fell in the water and could feel his consciousness simmer down. He was dying and must have been hallucinating, because he felt a pair of strong arms hug him from behind and then he woke up washed up on the shore.

The amount of salt water must have been inhumane because on top of that, for a second he thought he saw an adult version of the same merman who saved his life so long ago in the same manner. But he also knew it was impossible. The oceans were a vast and dangerous place. The chance of Shanks being there - same place and time as Buggy was close to none. Not to mention how festered the waters were with sea kings. No matter how fast a swimming one is, there's no way of our swimming a sea king.

Still... it was odd that there was a sudden income of driftwood with supplies. Oddly specific and useful supplies.

Buggy felt like even if there wasn't whatever he saw, there was someone... or something there. He decided, why not, and shouted a "I can see you there," (he couldn't) "you can come out now."

He didn't expect anyone to appear. And he definitely didn't expect his old cremate - Shanks. Shanks who had changed so much... he was well built, one armed, scarred and... was he... was he wearing pants?!

"Hey, Buggy... it's been a while..." Shanks smiled.

...

Okay, sorry, I have this hc that Bughy loves swimming, or I gues... used to... and I added the mouth to mouth thing because when you have a crush you read into everything too much and idk... sorry if it sounds like I'm retelling what you wrote, I love your idea <333

[fireflyskywalker00]

Hi! This prompt is top tier! 👌I’m really bad at flirting irl, thankfully writing comes a lot easier to me, lol! NSFW below the cut! Minors dni!

Summary: You and Luke attend a formal ball, however, you have your heart set on seducing the Jedi Knight.

Warnings: Smut, this is filthy, reader has female parts, fingering, I can’t think of anymore warnings…

Music fills your ears as you walk into the ballroom. You and Luke had been invited to a formal ball on some distant planet as a thank you for saving them from pirates. Though a party wasn’t exactly worth the risk, you were grateful for the free food.

Luke and yourself were dressed for the occasion. Your hosts were kind enough to let you borrow formal outfits for the ball. You wore a black silk dress, and Luke wore a black suit and tie.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off Luke, he looked extremely handsome in the suit. Every time you pulled your eyes away from him they would naturally wonder back to him. You and Luke had known each other for awhile, you figured being a Jedi he wouldn’t be affected by flirting. Maybe, just maybe… you could still shoot your shot…

You stood near the buffet, picking at some of the interesting looking foods. You see Luke talking with someone, a Duke, perhaps. Luke looks bored, doing the bare minimum to be polite. Luke excuses himself from the conversation and walks over to you.

“Having fun?” You ask sarcastically. Luke let’s out an exaggerated sigh,

“That was the most boring conversation I have ever had.” Luke grabs a piece of fruit from the buffet. This is your chance to flirt with him…

In a low seductive tone you ask, “Maybe I can entertain you…?” Luke goes silent, his cheeks starting to flush. He tries to say something, anything, but he is speechless.

You didn’t expect him to react, let alone be speechless. You smile to yourself, and grab a piece of fruit. Luke watches you take a small slow bite. You fully intended it to look sensual. You stare at him with doe eyes as you take another sensual bite. Luke’s mind goes wild. He tries to compose himself, but all he can think about you and that piece of fruit.

Luke takes a deep breath and does his best to compose himself. It’s his turn now… His eyes slowly go over your figure, his eyes lock onto yours, his voice now low and sultry…

“I forgot to mention how stunning you look…” You blush at his words, thankful he didn’t reject your advances.

You return the compliment, “You don’t look half bad yourself.” Luke steps closer, your eyes stare at each other’s lips. The music gets louder, reminding both of you that your in a public area.

Luke takes your hand, “Would you like to take this somewhere private?” He asks hoping he isn’t being too forward. You find yourself nodding your head, desperate to take this elsewhere.

Luke leads you out of the ballroom, though he isn’t sure where he’s going, he finds an empty room. It seems to be an office or study room, is doesn’t matter which. It’s quiet and it’s empty.

Luke quickly turns his attention back to you, he hold both your hands. Neither of you are quite sure what to say. The two of you stand close, eyes staring into each other’s. Your faces move close, once again staring at his lips. You close your eyes and leaning in, gently placing a kiss on his lips.

You pull back slowly, determining his reaction. Luke quickly leans back in kissing you, his hands find their way to your waist keeping you close. The two of you kiss passionately, your fingers run through his hair to the back of his head.

Luke picks you up by your waist and sits you down on the desk, without breaking the kiss. His hands start caressing your arms feeling your soft, smooth skin. Luke couldn’t believe he was kissing someone as beautiful as you, meanwhile, you couldn’t believe that you actually seduced the handsome Jedi knight.

Luke moved his mouth from your lips to your jaw, slowly making his way down to your neck. You let out a slight gasp at the feeling of his lips on your neck. In retaliation, you unbutton his suit jacket and pull it off his arms with some help.

Luke continues his assault on your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. Your hands undo his tie when you gasp. Luke found where your neck is most sensitive, he begins to lightly suck the skin, just enough to gage your reaction. When you don’t stop him, he begins to suck harder, wanting to leave a deep purple bruise.

After he is satisfied with his work of art, Luke’s kisses begin to move further down, reaching your collarbone. His hands find the zipper on the back of your dress, “May I?” He asks before taking it off. You nod your head, “Yes,” you say in a hushed tone. Luke unzips your dress and slips it off your shoulders revealing your bare chest.

Luke’s eyes express what can only be describe as amazement, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. Your hands started fidgeting with his shirt buttons, Luke got the hint and took off his shirt revealing his toned chest. His years of training showed, and you appreciated the sight. Your desire for him grew, you couldn’t wait any long, and neither could he…

You slip your dress off the rest of your body, and Luke took off his belt and pants. The two of you were now desperate for each other. Luke’s hands caress the hem of your panties, “May I?” You nod your head.

“Please…” You say breathlessly. Luke pulls your panties off your legs, and caress your thighs. Your breathing becomes labored, you wanted him so bad. Luke’s hand wander to your pussy, running a finger along your folds.

“You’re so wet…” He comments. Finger finds your clit and circles it, his other hand finds your hole, slipping a finger inside. “So tight…” He whispers. You moan at the sensation, your hands grip whatever you can find.

Luke’s rubs your clit with his thumb while slipping another finger into you. He starts fingering you slowly, you already close to climax. “Faster, please.” You beg him for release, and he complies. His fingers work faster, curling at that right spot. You moan loudly, you feel the coil inside you snap. Luke works you through your orgasm, lengthening your bliss.

After you regain your senses you see Luke smiling at you with awe. You already know it’s going to be a long night…

[mandoalorian]

lost in nightmares (leon s. kennedy x reader)

Summary: You comfort Leon after he wakes up from a nightmare in which he relived the hellish events of Racoon City. Leon, who is suffering with PTSD, is struggling to shake the past, and only you can bring him back to reality.

Word count: 2000 words.

Warnings: PTSD, trauma attacks, hallucinations, implied self injury. Hurt/comfort.

Inspired by the note from Leon found in Resident Evil 6 that reads: “To tell you the truth, I even thought about ending it. Several times actually, with just a quick bullet to the head. But I didn’t give up.”

Masterlist

Leon’s body was burning hot when he woke up, his palms sweaty and his finger nails indented into his skin where he’d made fists in his sleep. You were fast asleep beside him, lightly snoring, at peace. He looked at you momentarily with tired eyes and a small part of him envied you. The way the corners of your pretty lips were slightly upturned into a smile, even when you were sleeping. It eased him slightly, knowing you were there next to him, and he was safe. It has been getting easier for Leon since you’d moved in with him, but the nights were still the hardest. He didn’t want to wake you. He didn’t want to worry you.

Leon’s throat was dry and he was so sure that if he didn’t get a glass of water soon, he might just choke on the air around him. He needed to feel the cool liquid run down his throat. He needed to feel the contrast. As Leon sat up in bed, he saw a bright flash, a figure standing at the foot. Tall and Tyrant-like… all too familiar. He gasped loudly and shuffled back towards the headboard in fear, but when he blinked again, the figure was gone. Nothing but a mere figment of his imagination. A memory.

Leon took a few seconds to recuperate and worked on regulating his breathing, before swinging his legs out of the bed and standing up as quiet as he could, still making conscious effort not to wake you. In the darkness, Leon stumbled to open the bedroom door. He slipped out of the room and began to pad down the hallway, which was illuminated by a small amber nightlight. The rain outside thrashed against the window and it reminded Leon of that night, September 28th, when big fat raindrops fell atop of him as he navigated to the Racoon City Police station, dodging the undead who roamed the streets. Leon rubbed his eyes and saw one of them. A zombie— a monster— the undead. Blood stained and ripped t-shirt, still looking almost human if it wasn’t for the greying skin and white eyes. Leon blinked furiously, begging the image to go away.

“Go away,” he whispered. His skin began to tingle, and it was getting hard to breathe again. “You’re not real— go away.” His voice became a little more loud and a little more stern with fury. He was mad at himself. Why couldn’t he shake these images? These feelings?

It should have been different. He was working for the US government now; not by choice, but they had him training under the influential Major Krauser. Krauser was tough and rough and had been through a lot, just like Leon. He’d fought in wars all around the world; and yet, he seemed unfazed by it all. It had been two years since the Racoon City Incident, and still, not a day goes by when Leon didn’t reminisce. He wished he didn’t— he wished he couldn’t. Leon wished for a lot of things, but life goes on.

‘I’m not a kid anymore,’ Leon thought to himself. ‘So why am I still scared of monsters under the bed?’

After a long moment of fighting with himself in the hallway, Leon made it to the kitchen and took a glass from one of the cabinets. He opened up the freezer drawer and took out an ice cube, but stopped himself before he could put it in the glass. The cold against his skin soothed him and Leon took a breath of relief as he made a fist around the ice cube, the sharpness of the corners cutting slightly against his skin. He didn’t wince though, he barely even felt it. Leon let the ice melt into his hand and the water seep in between the gaps of his fingers until it made a puddle on the floor beneath him. Then, he wiped his hand with a towel and turned on the tap. Water.

Leon filled up his glass and turned off the tap before spinning around on his heel.

What he saw next, made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. The RPD uniform, skin turning purple but still those big, empathy-filled brown eyes. Marvin.

“Save me, Leon,” Marvin choked out, and extended his arm towards his employee.

Leon dropped the glass of water on the floor, the cup smashing beneath him and shards of the glass cutting his leg and feet open. But Leon couldn’t move, it was like his feet was stuck to the tiles. Like his mind was stuck back-in-time.

“Why didn’t you save me?” Marvin called out again, his voice edging more into a pained croak.

“No, no, no…” Leon shook his head, tears filling his blue eyes.

“They’re all going to die, Leon,” Marvin mused. “Just like me. Just like Ada…”

“Stop— stop it,” Leon pleaded. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

“Claire… Sherry…” Marvin sighed, shaking his head. He then made full eye contact with Leon, his face straight and sour. He said your name.

“Fuck you,” Leon spat. He reached down to his waist hoping to find his pistol holstered there, but was instead met by nothing. He wasn’t in his cop uniform like he’d pictured, but instead, a white v neck t-shirt and a pair of light grey sweatpants. He was in his pyjamas.

Leon made a fist instead, letting his fingernails dig into his skin. If he was hard enough; maybe the pain would wake him up from this real life nightmare. He wanted a gun. He wanted to shoot Marvin— kill him for good— and then maybe, maybe he’d kill himself too. Put an end to all of this finally, so he could stop being an inconvenience to you, and Krauser, and everyone else around him. Leon had changed so much since the Racoon City Incident, there was no telling who he was anymore.

Leon fell to his knees sobbing, the glass beneath him now itching against the material of his sweats, begging to cut through. Leon’s cries were hysterical, terrified wails coming from a petrified 23 year old boy who just missed the person he used to be.

“Leon? Leon!” You’d been calling his name for ten or so seconds before Leon finally heard your voice. He opened his eyes, which were now red and sore, and instead of Marvin standing by the door, he was met with you, your eyes wide and doe-like as you analysed what was before you. Your boyfriend kneeling on the kitchen floor amongst shards of glass and spilt water and specs of blood staining his pants. His cheeks were tear stained although he wasn’t crying anymore.

“I— I—“ Leon choked, unable to force his words out.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you promised, taking big steps over to him and taking his hand, carefully helping him to his feet as you tried to avoid the glass. Leon wrapped his big arm around you and held onto you tight as you walked alongside him, leaving the kitchen and heading into the living room.

Leon slumped down onto the sofa and you curled up beside him.

“Did I wake you up…?” Leon sniffed.

You paused momentarily. He did wake you up, but you knew the immense amount of guilt Leon would feel if he learned that. It would be another thing that he’d blame himself for.

“The rain woke me up,” the little white lie left your lips like velvet. “It’s so loud out there. I think there’s a storm coming.” You frowned.

Leon’s expression matched yours and he looked down at the floor beneath him. Your eyes followed his gaze and you noticed his foot was still bleeding from the glass.

“Oh— oh sweetie, you’re hurt,” you acknowledged, standing up. “Let me go grab a Med Kit.”

Before Leon could reply and even attempt to reassure you that he was fine, you bolted to the bathroom cabinet and grabbed an unused First Aid Spray, before returning to Leon in the living room. You dropped to your knees in front of him and began to tend to his wound.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you said, concentrating on stopping the bleeding. “You know, talking about it might help.”

“I think— I think I’m losing it.” Leon said plainly and without any emotion.

“Losing what, exactly?” you beckoned him further.

Your boyfriend shrugged. “My mind?” he returned your questioning tone.

You stood back up and sat down next to him. You placed both of your hands on Leon’s face and traced the height of his cheekbone with your fingers. He sunk into your warm embrace, his heart rate slowing down from the panicked and erratic speed that it was. You ran your fingers through his tousled dark blonde hair, making sure it was out of his eyes and you could say his beautiful face.

“Is it… the incident?” You use your words carefully after having a conversation with Leon’s therapist about it. You discussed how it was best to not bring up certain words as it may just trigger him more.

Leon nodded silently and you gave him a minute to gather his words. Sometimes, time was all he needed.

“The nightmares have been getting better since you moved in, since we— share a bed. But, I still get them sometimes. This one was a really bad one. I was in the NEST lab, finding all this dirt on Umbrella when… he came. Birkin— mutated— that ugly fuck—“

“And then you woke up?” sensing that he was about to spiral, you made your choice to interrupt Leon.

“Yeah… and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. So I got up and went to get some water but I kept seeing things— feeling things—hearing things. I can’t escape it. It’s too much…”

You grabbed a hold of Leon’s hands and squeezed them with all the strength you could muster. “Leon Scott Kennedy, you are a hero. You and Claire… you saved that little girl. You made it out of that hellhole alive and able to tell the story. You fucking did it! You’re a natural born survivor and you’re brave and— holy shit, you’re the strongest person I know. All the odds were against you and you made it.”

You watched as Leon’s face hardened.

“I won’t rest until Umbrella are done for,” Leon interrupted you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the world doesn’t see another Racoon City Incident…”

“Okay, good, keep fighting. It’s what you’re best at,” you beamed at your boyfriend and he offered you a small, weak smile. “Leon, I want you to know this won’t be easy but I’ll be with you, every step of the way. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you so much.” Leon sighed, leaning into your body and inhaling. You curled up beside him and placed a kiss into his neck.

“I love you too, my hero.”

[hell-drabbles]

Raqiel 1

Summary: The only way that Raqiel can stay by you is to have him strip and put on these specially made chains. Raqiel has absolutely no problem with this. In fact, you’d say he looks a little bit eager.

(…just so people know, I like making OCs be over 7 feet tall. Just, really big people for the sake of being big.)

“Really?” you hissed to yourself, bringing the golden chains closer to your face as though that’ll somehow reveal a joke you’re missing.

“Aye…” Ppyong nodded sadly, even though your words weren’t really aimed at him, “I’m sorry, Child of Solomon… There really is no other way for Raqiel to stay in Hell otherwise.”

“No, no, I’m not angry at you, Ppyong,” you gave two flat pats on his head, though it didn’t little to lift up both your moods, “I mean, I expected this and all, but still. Pisses me off that it’s either this or a jail cell.”

Or being sent right back to the angels that were trying to tear him apart. You knew this war made almost every devil sensitive to even the mere mention of angels but to even reject an angel they knew was about to beaten to death by his own kind was… it’s a line you could never cross.

So these chains… these chains did not strike you as a safety measure, especially not with the dog tag, the length that would probably squeeze Raqiel’s body, and the cuffs on his wrists and legs would prevent him from wearing anything beyond over-sized robes. He’s be unable to even put on underwear.

Raqiel loves humiliation, you know this and indulge him, certainly. The problem here is that this kind of humiliation that’ll come from the chains aren’t of your own volition. It feels like someone else is putting their claws on Raqiel, and with the way he’s been regarded by every Hell citizen, you don’t want them to lay even a finger on him. Not after all the effort you went into keeping him alive while everyone else was yelling at you for it.

They don’t deserve to chain him up, but it seems you have no choice in the matter. And with the way you can hear stifled laughter and see openly mocking grins around you, you’re more than tempted to just chuck these chains at the nearest drinker in this bar.

Raqiel took a step forward from your side. The clack of his shoe rang loud and it silenced the entire bar in an instant. All the white noise that was on the verge of overwhelming your mind was gone. And that anger that was rising, it calmed down a notch now that your brain wasn’t itching.

“I don’t mind,” Raqiel’s limp wings dragged across the floor as he stood in front of you, inhumanly large body casting a shadow just to the right of you, “Be it chains, whips, or even having to cut off my own limbs, I don’t mind so long as I have my eyes to see, my mouth to speak, and my hands to pray.”

To see you, to speak to you, to pray to you. That steadfast devotion of his once made you uncomfortable, if only because he kept trying to get out of bed to show you the lengths it goes, but it became easier to just go along with it rather than fight it. Now that he doesn’t look mangled, it felt like a breath of fresh air, especially because he now knows when to tone it back and when to bring it forth.

You sighed. You stretched out the chains, looking at which connects to what just so you have an idea as to how it would go on.

“Hmm!” Ppyong gave a heavy sniff, eyes filled with tears and admiration, “Raqiel! I’m sorry this has to be done to you! You always make me snacks, and helped me heal my wing when it got torn, and–and–!”

“Like I said,” just as you figured out that one had to strip bare for this to go on, Raqiel unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it open, exposing his muscled body for all to see with calm pride in his smile, “I don’t mind at all. If anything, this is a new type of excitement. If I remember right, Ppyong, those chains will force obedience in the dog that wears them. Obedience only to the one who places the harness on their pet.”

You stopped then raised an eyebrow at Ppyong. “Is that true?”

“Eh?” Ppyong, still in the middle of being weepy, snapped out of his despair and shook his head in a blur, “Ah, yes! Yes, the devil blacksmith told me that! If you put the chains on Raqiel, only your orders will activate them. No one else!”

Well, at least there’s that. You still don’t like it, but at least you don’t have to worry about some random devil breaking Raqiel just because they were in a bad mood.

“Alright then,” you lifted the chains up to Raqiel’s body, “Well, let’s do–”

Raqiel dropped his pants without any shame. His face was clear of any embarrassment, but the blush was high on his face and ears. He was glowing in all his nudity and the devils had no choice but to stare at him. His body type wasn’t unique to just him, you’ve seen devils that had it, but it’s in the way that he carried himself. It was the confidence in his nudity that made it hard to look away.

You snorted when you looked down. “…ha! You’re not wearing underwear. Did you know that these chains were being delivered today?”

“Hehehe, I might told him!” Ppyong sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

“Forgive me, Dearest Deity, for not telling you. I was looking forward to this a little too much. It, honestly, passed over my head to tell you in advance.”

“You’ll be forgiven as soon as you kneel and let me put these on you, alright?”

[beauleifu]

Hello! Can you write a oneshot or a headcanon (platonic, ofc) about Macaque with a reserved but also very outgoing child? (like those kids that are calm and reserved but if you mention something they really like they just go off and start rambling all happy and excited)

I had this idea in my head for a little while, I think it'd be really funny and wholesome if he just appeared at Pigsy's Noodles w/ his child and everyone's like "wh- YOU'RE A DAD??? WHEN??? HOW????" and he just watches with that Tired Parent Look™ as his kid stares directly at MK and goes "YOU'RE THAT MONKIE GUY ON THE TV!!!"

Sorry for any errors! English is not my first language, I apologize for the long text aswell, I'm just an absolute sap for the "tired but loving dad" trope also you can totally delete my ask or skip it if you don't want to write it!! Thank you either way, your writing is wonderful :) !

All right! *cracks fingers, snaps neck- whoops-*

You got it anon! Sorry for not answering this ask sooner, I realized headcanons are easier to write than an actual oneshot considering the limited time I have to write nowadays. But I hope you enjoy, and thanks for the ask! <333

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

MACAQUE X CHILD!READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Long ago, a wise old monkey had taken you under his wing, to train you and teach you the ways- okay, let's save the theatrics for later, that's Macaque's thing. Your father figure. Honestly, he's growing on you, and it's starting to show now that people are pointing it out.

TW: None!

HEADCANNONS

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Macaque doesn't normally take you somewhere where conflict is bound to arise. He'd prefer someplace more peaceful, like a park/museum/theater. Unless, of course, he's in the mood for adventure and will literally take you skydiving without a permit.

Totally the irresponsible dad. He's protective as FUCK, let's make that clear, but in the end he trusts you to take care of yourself

perhaps a bit too much, and even you think that

He'll encourage you to pet that snake

He'll give you the thumbs up if you wanted to climb to the top of the weather tower during a thunderstorm

Like "Go get 'em, (Y/N)! Make your father proud!"

With such a dramatic character when it comes to encouraging you, Macaque will become insanely tired. He'll be snoring on the couch and won't wake up even if you stacked all the furniture in the house on his back

Speaking of the house, he and you live far away from any danger

This guy didn't know jack shit about being a dad at first (you kind of hat to teach him, oh how the turns have tabled) But once he understood the basics, he took the reins, eager to impress you and earn your respect. Macaque isn't usually a sucker for developing any relationship with Earthly figures, but you were the only exception. He'd lay awake at night thinking if he's making the right choice, then slapping himself for even considering abandoning you. You are too precious.

Which is why he's totally, utterly wrapped around your little finger

So when you ask to get take-out at Pigsy's Noodles, it doesn't take much effort to sway his stoic resolve

"Dad. Pops. Papa. Father of mine," you say, grabbing his face, looking a lot older than you actually are. "Please!"

Since Macaque can't turn his face to the side (squished as it is), he sighs dramatically and closes his eyes. You catch the faint, irritated twitch of his tail, but that's about the only hint of Fed-Up Parent you can detect.

"(Y/N), Megapolis is miles away."

"You have shadow magic!"

"You can't just abuse my powers, especially now that you've decided to abuse yours," he grunts, albeit grinning at you. He' loosing.

Triumph fills your chest. "I can handle it! Uncle Pigsy would love to see me!"

"Uncle!?" Macaque splutters, finally escaping your grip. Shocked eyes blink down at you. "Sweetheart, you haven't even met Pigsy, you've only seen him from afar."

You blink up, flaunting those devil-may-care puppy eyes.

Oh, he hates it when you do that.

"Puh-lease! I'll do anything! i'll scratch your back! Do my chores before games! I-I'll stay out of your secret stash of peaches!" You gasp, flopping down on the soft carpet lining the floor. You consider the intricate pattern for a moment, then mutter under your breath; "Even though you said you hate those. . . ."

Macaque fixes you with a stern look. "You know about that, huh?"

"Mayyybe."

Like I said, not that much effort. The guy may be invulnerable to harm at best, but his immortality falls short under your tactics. Persuasive skills that he taught you to use.

Sucks how plans backfire, huh?

When you two do get to the shop, however, Macaque goes into full parent-mode

He doesn't care if you think it's uncool, you're holding his hand and that's that. He'd get you one of those child harnesses but thank the stars you'd convinced him you're worth more than such a humiliating child-control device.

So in you go, holding hands, Macaque glaring at anyone who spares you a curious glance.

When Macaque sees who's at the counter, he almost does a 180 out of there

It's MK.

Of all people.

He hasn't seen the two of you yet, though. You feel Macaque's paw tighten over your small, nimble fingers, and you can't help but squeeze back in return, asking a silent question.

It's times like these where you don't know what to do. You're still a child, even if this was your idea.

But then you spot who's at the counter

and At the same time, Pigsy comes 'round the corner with a giant tray of noodles- fit for the exact number of people surrounding the Monkie Kid. Suddenly, Macaque realizes who all is there.

This guy

Parent-Panic-Pro

The literal Monkey King is the first to turn head, eyes landing on Macaque first. You can tell instantly his fight-or-flight response just kicked in; shoulders tensing, teeth baring, eyes widening (oh yes, typical ex behavior- HAHA)

Then, all heads are turning.

And Monkey King's eyes land on you

Macaque steps in front of you, form tense and on high alert. "Heyyyy," he says, awkwardly.

The Monkey King tilts his head, perhaps confused as to why his old friend is protecting a little kid. Then he realizes. Poor guy connects the dots, lets out an unholy gasp of astonishment, and points and the both of you

"YOU. YOU- AND THEM- MACISTHATYOURKID-"

Pandemonium.

At least, in the most gentle context. MK and his friends do a double take, the Monkey King is gaping and trying to figure out who could ever love Macaque to result in this- and your dad just completely gives up. He gives you this look, like 'see why I was against bringing you here'

And you know. And your eyes say sorry, that you'll make it up to him later

Typical silent father/child communicating

(you guys are really good at that, communicating through your eyes or expressions. it helps in crowds)

That is, until your eyes fall on MK and realize for the first time that he's actually there

And Macaque's face falls into an impossibly disappointed facade (really, he's happy you're socializing) as you let go of his hand and prance right up to MK, eyes literal stars.

Thank goodness for MK, for he's kind and patient enough to let you blabble and gush on about how cool he is and how you've stayed up to date on the latest chaos he's incited (poor dude looks a bit downcast at that)

Funny how you went to such a well-behaved, shy kid to an energetic hyper-fixated gremlin in two seconds

All the while, Pigsy is listening, Monkey King corners Macaque and quietly demands answers (the two of them talk in the background for awhile as you socialize)

Noodles are served

There's just so many people in Pigsy's Noodles that the owner himself couldn't keep track of who ordered what, so everyone just got the same thing- and lots of it

In the end, you're all sitting down at the table (everyone had worked together to gather as many spare tables/chairs as possible to sit together at one huge-ass table)

You insisted you sit with Mei and MK in order to interrogate them about their adventures

OF course, you mean well, and they know that. And Macaque never pulls you aside because he likes seeing you like this, it makes him happy knowing you're indulging in the things you love, and he deosn't have the heart to tell you it's almost time to go home.

So you stay there for awhile, chatting with Mk and his friends

You get to know Pigsy (he doesn't mind being called your uncle, said at this point he's practically everyone's uncle or dad)

But alas

You're bit a child

And towards the end of the night, aftter everyone is stuffed full of noodles, you're conked out in your chair, slumped and snoring softly, eyes fluttering from dreaming

Everyone glances at you, how fucking adorable you are

Macaque straightens, clears his throat, says it's time for him to leave

Sun Wukong stops him for a moment, just to say

"Keep them safe, Mac."

Of course, like the #1 Dad he is, Macaque snorts. "I think I know more about raising a kid than you do, Wukong. I'll . . . see you out there."

Then he picks you up, carefully, so you stay sleeping, and walks out

but not before turning around to thank everyone for dinner

For once, they offer smiles (some are weaker and less meaningful than others, but props for trying. Macaque is kinda responsible for a lot of pain in their lives, anyways)

You don't register any of it, too full of noodles and new information regarding your idols

Macaque knows he'll never hear the end of it

Perhaps that's a good thing, considering the fond smile on his face as he gently carries you home, lays you in bed, and pulls the covers over your snoring form. He eagerly awaits the morning to which you'll wake him up excitedly ranting about tonight, about how you want to do it again

And he's wrapped around your little finger, so if course he'll listen to you

this guy would move the world for you