#perhaps i will start putting my shinies in there too when i get back to hunting

[discotitsposts]

strawberry lipgloss🍓

spencer reid x reader (this one’s for my strawberry lovers)

spencer can’t keep his senses off reader when she wears a lipgloss that drives him insane (wrote this since i got a new strawberry lipgloss today)

-🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—

It’s 8:04 am when she walks into the BAU.

Spencer’s working on some files when he notices you are 4 minutes later than your usual time of arrival. He furrows his brow at this strange abnormality but shrugs it off quickly. Maybe you just had woken up late. Your alarm didn’t go off perhaps. Or maybe there was traffic. No, that couldn’t be it. Not from the route you go or at that time. That area doesn’t get congested at all, if ever.

In any case it wasn’t Spencer’s business. Hotch’s yes. Not Spencer’s. You had no need to explain yourself to him. He wasn’t your boyfriend no matter how much he wished and hoped he could be.

He hadn’t been one to believe in wishes but his last birthday it was what he’d wished on the candles while you’d smiled at him sweetly. You were doing that now. You smiled when you saw him every morning. He adored it.

As you approach his desk you chime, “Good morning Spencer!” in a sing-songy voice per usual.

You get closer and drop a small bag on his desk. That’s when he notices. You smell like a fresh baked strawberry pie. He knew you normally wore a sweet vanilla perfume. You were wearing it today, he could smell it. Something was different though, there was a hint of strawberry.

Unfortunately for him, you walk away and sit down at your own desk. You scent disappears with you. Spencer frowns and opens the bag you’d given him. The smell of the contents immediately hits his nostrils.

A chocolate strawberry donut!

You notice him pick up the donut. A smile forms on his face.

“Thanks!” He takes a bite.

“Delicious!”

“I knew you’d like it. It’s both of our favorite flavors!”

Spencer smiles at you. You were always doing kind gestures like this for him. You did kind favors for a lot of people, but for Spencer it felt so special when you did things for him. It’s why he was so in love with you. He goes back to his files happily eating.

Minutes later, you’re staring at him debating whether or not you should ask him a question. You decide to ask. You stand up and walk over to him. He smells the sweet strawberry scent radiating off of you and looks up.

“Yes?” He’s happily staring at you with those big brown eyes. Getting lost in the sight of you.

“Could you please do something for me, Spencer?”

“You can do whatever you want to me…” He says without thinking. He quickly corrects himself with, “I mean what do you need me to do? For you.” He clears his throat. “Anything.”

You reach into your purse and pull out a small red tube. “Could you put this on for me please?” You open the tube. “I lost my mirror.”

“Of course.” He takes the tube and his hand shakes a little. He squeezes the tube a little so the product comes up and presses the applicator onto your lips. He spreads the product over your mouth being careful to not get it anywhere but your lips.

The scent was just like strawberry jam.

When he’s done, he can’t stop staring at your shiny lips. He can see his reflection in them.

Oh, how he’d like to press his own to yours and never let go. The strong scent of strawberries, now dominating his nostrils, wasn’t helping.

Unconsciously, he leans in ever so slightly. You notice and start to lean in too. Following his movements. You’re just centimeters away from touching each other.

You would have too, if JJ hadn’t walked in and announced a new case.

When you meet in the conference room, Spencer sits next to you. He keeps inhaling your scent.

When you’re on the jet you’re reapplying your perfume, you spritz it behind your ears, on your wrists, and your ankles.

Spencer watches in awe. You put the perfume bottle back in the bag and pick up the strawberry lip balm again. He’s awaiting you to ask him to reapply it for you since you’d told him you’d lost your mirror. You reach for something else inside your purse. You pull something out.

A small pink mirror.

You hadn’t lost it. Spencer smiles to himself.

“Just me or does she smell extra good today?” Morgan observes and motions his head towards you. Spencer nods in agreement.

“Yeah…”

You’re curled up reading a book when Spencer sits next to you. You look up at him and give him a warm smile.

“Nice mirror you got there.” He smirks. Confidence was spewing off him all of a sudden.

“So why did you tell me you lost it?” He asked, he knew the answer but wanted to hear you admit it. He suddenly had the urge to make you squirm.

“Um, you’re a profiler shouldn’t you know?” You retort.

Spencer stares at you for a second, unsure how to respond. The corners of his mouth curl into a smile when he thinks of something.

“Well then, I’ll tell you why, you wanted me to notice that wonderful scent of strawberries. You wanted me to look at your lips and want you so badly my bones hurt. Anyone who knows you, knows, you never leave home without your mirror.” Spencer innocently smiles.

“Why did you play along if you knew?”

He leans in closer and whispers in your ear, “I can’t resist you. Or your lipgloss.” He smiles and goes back to where he was sitting before. You stare at him in shock.

Morgan pats his arm and says, “My man!”

Then Spencer does the unthinkable and pulls out his cell phone, a very rare occasion. You feel a twinge of jealously at the thought he might be texting someone else, when your phone dings with a text.

Spencer: Would you like to have dinner at Tony’s with me this weekend? Like as a date?

You: I’d love to, but why didn’t you just ask when you were over here?

Spencer: Look up.

You look up and see Morgan teasing Spencer about whispering in your ear. He’s pretending to hump a pillow while Hotch is holding his face in his hands in disbelief.

“Ask her out kid! Strike while the iron is hot!” Morgan then motions spanking. Hotch looks like he is on the verge of tears.

You laugh and go back to your text thread.

You: I am so sorry.

You look over again and see Spencer smiling at his phone.

Spencer: Can’t wait for our date! Make sure to wear that strawberry lip gloss.

You: Of course, xoxo💋

the end, for now

-

i might do a part two about the date not sure yet

update part two is here

-

tags 🍓-

if you’d like to be tagged u can comment a 🍓

@whoisspence

@starshinegarcia

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

@gallifreyan-idiocracy

[masterstr0ke]

Hihi, i wanted to make a request (if it’s open) Your last aventurine and welt pieces were beautiful 🩷

Dr ratio hasn’t gotten the time to spend time with you lately and he works hard, but you are his supportive spouse so you bring him snacks and remind him to take breaks in between and kiss the cheek of his alabaster head as a treat (he has it on) before you do your own work. Now all he can think about is you for the rest of the day (perhaps he would have preferred it on his skin too)

If you don’t write for him that’s fine ^^

No need to rush, tyt! ☁️

YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.

HUSBAND!RATIO x GN!READER

WARNINGS: annoyed Ratio, jealousy over an inanimate object (?), drowning in work. 2nd person POV (you/yours/yourself)

WORD COUNT: 494

AUTHOR NOTE: i know what you are👀

The day was slow at the Intelligentsia Guild, especially for the infamous Dr. Ratio.

Since the day began, all he has been doing is deal with insufferable morons with a worn-out shoe for a brain! Such imbeciles, Ratio believes time is precious, but unfortunately his students are dumb enough to waste it, even dumber to waste his time by asking how old he is or if he’s single or not.

Those fools don’t have to know that at-work Dr. Ratio is different than at-home Veritas, and can’t they figure out the question themselves by paying the slightest bit of attention to the silver band on his left hand’s ring finger? His attitude should’ve intimidated them enough for their minds to not go beyond the assumption that all he does at home is shower, eat work and sleep.. right? At least, that’s what he thinks.

However, he hasn’t been paying enough attention to the beautiful person sharing the other ring with him; the one he said his vows to. All he does when he goes back home is shower, eat, work and sleep. That’s it. He doesn’t even have time to glance your way, and that angers him.

He put on his alabastor head; His expression was too sour to welcome anyone who dares enter his office besides higher-ups. And just as he was about to start working in peace, a knock erupted at his office’s door, great. Ratio grumbled quietly. “Come in.” He spoke in an authoritative tone, expecting this to be a higher-up or an idiot student.

You open the door, a box in your hand, and a wide smile that rivals the sun in its shiny glory. “Veritas!” You call out as a greeting, before rushing to his desk. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You forgot your lunch at my office,” Oh, so that’s where his lunch went. You also worked at the Intelligentsia Guild, also being a teacher of high regard. Opposites attract, they say. All of your students love you, and you’re friends with everyone; An obvious contrast from your husband. You place the lunchbox on his desk with your left hand, the band on your ring finger glistening in the sunlight, the source being the window behind Veritas’ chair.

You then lean in and kiss the cheek of the alabastor head, then the lips. It wasn’t enough, since the head lacked the warmth of skin, but you were content. You give him a smile before you head out the door, just like that.

Ratio slowly took off the alabastor head, looking at it in disgust as if it owes him something. It does, it took away his lover’s kisses. As childish as it sounds, he’s been craving a kiss for a while. He supposes he has to wait until he goes back home, maybe he’ll get all the kisses he wants. In exchange of his work being put aside, even for a little while.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Perhaps Hal Jordan or Clark kent with cuddling. Like just them coming home after a stressed day and you just take care of them the best you can. U offer sex but they don’t want it. Just wanting to be in ur presence for a bit yk yk

Clark Kent x Male reader

Headcanons

Hey nerds, guess who’s not dead. I feel like I am, but apparently, I’m not. Classes are kicking my ass because of very cramped timelines and long days. Who’d have thought becoming a caretaker (idk the English word) would be so difficult. A shorty, but still something I enjoyed writing.

It wasn’t a common occurrence. For Clark to come home so worn out and tired. As a man powered by the sun, a man of steel as he so regularly gets called, its very difficult to him feeling so worn down.

For the most part, the days he comes home in this mood, is not because he’s exhausted physically, but rather mentally. Be it from difficult missions, or just long days at work where he’s talked down too or pushed aside.

There is something soft and cute about him like this, though you would never tell him that. he’s always a little whinier and poutier, but also cuddlier, if that’s even possible for a guy who seems to live off affectionate contact with you.

The first thing Clark does when he comes home from days like this, is kick off whatever he’s wearing and change into something else. Most days its some ancient washed-out sweatshirts from his university days. The kind that’s been washed so many times the logo is mostly gone, and the fabric is worn thin and soft.

Its either that, or if you’re bigger than him, then it’s one of your shirts. That or just a pair of boxers and socks, so he can crawl into your space and flop down there like a big lazy cat.

If possible, Clark tries to crawl up into your shirt, laying his head on your stomach or your chest, ear pressed against your skin to listen to your heart, even if he can easily do that anywhere on the planet. Being so close just puts him at ease.

You cant hear it, but you know he’s purring, even if it’s a frequency you can’t pick up. At this point you can only really rub his back and let him soak up the affection and touch he needs like a wilted flower in the sun.

When he starts pressing featherlight kisses against your torso, you start to think maybe Clark wants something more, since he starts kneading at your sides, like you’re made from playdough, and he wants to mold you into something else.

His hands are so big and strong that you almost feel like playdough, with how insistent his rubbing and kneading can get. His kisses never go beyond soft pecks and barely there brushes of his lips, Clarks head just moving from side under your shirt as he lays on top of your legs.

You don’t need words in a situation like this, your hands becoming more exploratory, rubbing between his shoulders and tapping your fingers at his spine, like he’s a harp you’re plucking the strings off.

The change in your scent must catch his attention too, as Clark lifts his head just enough for you to see him through the collar of it, his eyes soft and glistening. They remind you of marbles, in a way. So shiny and with that clash of shades of blue.

The small downwards pout of his lips and minimal shake of his head is all you need to know, that going farther isn’t what he wants. So, you just give a nod in reply and place a hand on the back of his head, bringing him back down again.

You don’t really understand why he feels so much comfort under your shirt like this. Maybe it’s the enclosed feeling of it all, the shirt, and sometimes blanket you put on top, closing him off from the rest of the world.

Maybe its just the closure, and being surrounded by your scent, which always seems to put him at ease, or rile him up, depending on your own mood.

You don’t hate it though, you never could, not when its Clark. So, instead you just lay back, rubbing your hands slowly up and down his back and Clark nuzzles deeper against you, letting him rest there for as long as he needs.

[diddybok]

May I request a poly skz + reader, or just Minsung or Chanlix/Hyunlix if you want, totally up to you. Reader relatively new to the relationship and is trying their best to be the best partner to all parties, but doesn’t feel like it’s being returned. They feel like skz (or whichever ship you choose) is too into each other and not them, like the shiny new toy isn’t exciting anymore. One night, after everyone goes to sleep, reader gets their things and leaves without saying anything. You can change the plot a bit if you’d like. If you’re not comfortable with writing it, that’s ok!🩵

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: minsung x gn!reader

➩genre(s): angst, poly!skz

➩warnings: none

➩wc: 0.6k (655)

➩author’s note: sorry this took so long, i hope it was even a fraction of what you wanted!

➩part(s): next

You are exhausted. To put it plainly. You just don’t know how much more you can take. Of course you love the boys, you really do. However something has shifted, and not for the better.

First you started noticing small changes. When Jisung and Minho would come back late from practice, they would usually bring you a sweet treat followed by kisses and cuddles to make up for the lost time. Now it’s barely even a ‘Sorry we’re home late.”

You aren’t used to this, used to feeling like an afterthought in your own relationship. Then again, you weren’t quite sure how well it was going to go between the three of you. They were already so in tune with each other and then you came along.

They made you feel like the missing piece. The rarest jewel to add to their shiny golden crown. You didn’t think it was possible to be truly loved by two people, nor did you think you could love two people as much as you do them.

The tender care and appreciation that came from the both of them was nothing short of remarkable. The intimacy that was shared between the three of you was never overwhelming.

You love Minho. You love Jisung. They love you.

At least, they loved you.

When it was once you in the middle, being doted on each side by the boys you adored. You now reside on the outside as they cuddle each other, a pity hand resting upon your thigh.

When it was once you who ran you fingers through both of their hair as they melted into your touch. You now get told “You don’t have to do that tonight.” “You seem tired you should get some rest.” “It’s alright, I’ll do it for him.”

When it was once a trio. It now falls back into the familiar routine of when you weren’t even a blimp in their lives. Minho and Jisung against the world, oh and Y/n.

“Do you guys still love me?” You would ask timidly.

“Of course we do Y/n! Why would you think such a thing?”

You thought you had done something wrong. Why were they pushing you away? Even when you increased the amount of love you were giving them, you didn’t get anything back.

You were always at the tail end of the relationship. It only became clear to you now.

You still love them. Of course you do. How could you not?

But you are no fool. You are not one to be strung along like a little pet on a leash. You know when you aren’t wanted. When you, the jewel, were not quite glued in securely and fell out of the crown.

Perhaps it always looked better with only the two jewels. Perhaps you were there as a tester, to see what it would look like.

New and exciting, glamorous and beautiful. It was what they needed…until they didn’t.

As you lay at the edge of the bed, the two of them cuddling beside you, you quietly unwrap yourself from the sheets. You grab your already packed bag that was in the wardrobe.

They didn’t even notice your toothbrush was gone when they came home late and did their nightly routine.

Yes but they didn’t even give you a kiss goodnight.

You shouldn’t cry, but you can’t help the tears that cascade down your cheeks.

You know it is for the best. You need to put yourself first, your feelings first.

Which is why you place the key you had to the house on the kitchen island. You don’t look back as you walk out the door. Walk out of their lives.

Maybe that was what they wanted from you all along?

Maybe you just weren’t ready for something like this?

Or maybe you know your worth. You know you’re worth enough to be loved as much as you love.

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

taglist: @lyramundana

[teeth-farie]

Forty Year Old Virgin

Johnathon Ohnn/GN Reader

Notes: virginity, null spot, hole fingering, dry humping, clothed sex, kinda tribadism, spit, alcohol, spot being pathetic, 3.5k

☞. . . Seems like I’m back from my little hiatus!! I actually started writing this fic yesterday and it’s the FASTEST I’ve ever finished one. I blame the spot server I’m in

Johnathon Ohnn is thirty-eight years old. He knows this because he always liked celebrating his birthday, even if they got less eventful over the years. He still enjoyed the candles and the cake, he still enjoyed how his family would come together to sing for him and how his coworkers would sign a group card. 

Johnathon was thirty-seven when the collider exploded. He didn’t realize his birthday had passed until he looked at a calendar. And really, how pitiful was that? No candles, no cake, not even a sloppily signed card. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he craved normality.

It wasn’t long after that he met you, significantly younger and full of spunk. It made him feel a little youthful again, like he was back in that old dorm room at the shiny age of twenty. Admittedly he didn’t do as many fun things as you did at his age, he mostly studied and contemplated taking Adderall to get through his finals, but he digressed. 

But observing you made him realize just how many things he missed out on during his youth. Sure, he sneaked a couple of his dad's beers as a teen and broke some college lab equipment he wasn’t supposed to be touching, rebellious things like that, but that wasn’t truly living. 

Before, he thought his accomplishments would speak for him; his doctorates and files of studies, his collider. But now, as he watches and listens to the dramatic reenactments of your late teenage hood and early adult life, Johnathon begins to realize maybe science isn’t the end all be all of his life. He realizes that he never went to any parties in college, he never had a quarrel-filled romance his parents disapproved of, he never traveled outside of the country aside from work—and as his eyeless gaze flits downwards, taking in the sight that is you in incredibly short shorts, he realizes another thing. 

He’s never had sex, either. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, because he really desperately did, it’s more like he never got the chance. Between his academics that shot straight to the workforce and his lack of genuine attraction to anyone around him, it got put on the back burner. 

But now it’s all he can think about. 

He thinks about it when he watches your hands gesture wildly, the way they look so agile yet sturdy. He thinks about it when your shirts are low cut or rising up your midriff. He thinks about it when you stand close to him and all he can smell is you. He thinks about it when your hips shimmy to a song you like. He thinks about it when-

Ahem. 

He thinks. A lot. 

Johnathon has never had a quiet mind, that much is true. He’s never figured out whether or not it was a good thing, but considering how much material his brain has given him for lonely nights, it can’t all be bad. 

Well. That was before the collider blew his dick clean off too. Which was another thing on his long long list of ‘Is living still worth it? I’m not too sure.’ (Except now he finally has a pro on that list, thanks to you.)

He can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous, however, hearing you talk briefly about past flings and relationships. Although he couldn’t exactly distinguish whether or not he felt jealous of your experience, or jealous of the men in your stories. He knows he could be better, even if he had virtually no experience to go off of. Despite it all, he still thinks to himself that he could make himself into someone you wanted, someone good for you. (Though he does also wonder if that’s perhaps his newly inflated ego talking.)

Johnathon sighs and holds his head in his hands. His hand briefly falls through the hole in his face and comes out of his thigh. Regardless of what he thinks could happen and what could be, he knows deep down that you couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Still, a man is allowed to dream, right?

…

As it turns out, dreams do come true. 

Or at least a drunk, sloppy version of them. 

To be fair, Johnathon didn't think he still could get drunk, so it wasn't his fault that he was a bit heavy-handed with the bottle. It didn’t help that you were so influencing either, all too eager to dump the rest of your bottle down the hole in his face just to see where it’d go. Apparently, liquids dissolved down quickly in his voided body before they could emerge out of another hole. So, he drank. He drank because it was the first time he could feel any kind of normalcy, he could feel like he was human again. Unfortunately for him, he's still just as loose-lipped when drunk as he was before the collider incident. 

You swirl the foamy remnants of beer in your bottle, watching it swirl through the brown glass before swallowing it down with a tip of your head. Johnathon watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow, entranced. You breathe out, satisfied, and set the bottle down on the coffee table amongst all the others. 

“Y’know,” You begin, leaning back against the couch cushions, legs curled up comfortably to your chest. “You’re not as bad looking as you think.” You’re squinting your eyes a little at him, as if you were examining his body. “Lotsa people are into your kinda thing.”

Johnathon’s face hole constricts a little as if he were narrowing his eyes. “My kinda thing? What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“You know! Like…like not human looking.” You’re still looking at him, grinning, fingers picking at the hem of your pajama pants.

He makes a sound like a scoff. “That’s not really a compliment…”

You whine in subtle frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, you have different kinds of qualities. Good qualities.” You poke your finger out at him, jabbing his chest. Your fingertip sinks into one of his inkblot holes and it gives Johnathon a feeling that he knows he’ll be thinking about later tonight when he's all alone. You replace your finger to actually poke his chest now, the smooth, almost rubbery skin of him. He shivers a little nonetheless. 

“What…” he swallows thickly. “What kind of qualities?”

You continue to idly run circles over his chest with your index finger, humming softly to yourself. “I know the regular things, like how much of a good listener and talker you are. You know lots about stuff. And you also are like, super eager to please. That’s gotta be a good quality too.” 

Johnathon looks down at your hand, his black little heart thumping in his chest. It’s almost too intimate for him to bear. 

“Oh! And your holes!”

“My…my holes?”

“Yeah, I bet you can do some crazy things with them.”

“Oh god–” He nearly chokes at the thought running in his head.

“Yeah,” you continue, pulling your hand back to yourself. Johnathon hates how it makes him feel lonely. “I once met a guy who had crazy holes, haha, you could fit a whole fist in ther–”

“OH wow, really?” He quickly cuts you off, his paper-white face flushing a dull blue. He flaps his hands a little, as if it could cool down both his flustering and spiking jealousy. “I don’t think you should k-kiss and tell, right? Isn’t that a thing we’re not supposed to do? Kissing and…telling?” God, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss you. 

“Oh, c’mon! I know there has to be at least something you’ve done that you just gotta talk about. What is it, huh? Weird partner? Did they have a weird fetish?” You gasp suddenly. “Oh god, a pregnancy scare maybe?…pregnancy fetish?” 

“No, no, none of that!” Johnathon waves his hands out in front of him rapidly, hoping to quell your questioning. “I’ve never uh- never really–”

“What, are you vanilla? Usually, nerds are like, SUPER kinky–”

“I’ve never had sex!” Curse him and his loose lips. 

The air goes still amongst the sudden silence and Johnathon begins to regret ever speaking. Actually, scrap that, he regrets ever being born. Well, it’s actually not like he really had a choice in the matter, but that's beside the point.

Then, you snort a little. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? Aren’t you like, forty?”

His face hole shrinks down nearly to the side of a pinhole in both embarrassment and frustration. “I-I’m not forty! I’m thirty-eight! A-and besides, lots of people don’t have sex until they’re older! Or at all!”

“Oh my god, this is like that one movie, what’s it called, uhh,”

You tap your chin, completely ignoring him.

“I should have never said anything, I’m such an idiot—“

“No, don’t say that!” You poke his chest again, whining when he recoils from your touch. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I’m sorry.”

Johnathon huffs, grabbing one of the half-full bottles and dumping it down his face hole. It scrunches slightly in what you’ve begun to assume is swallowing. You pout and scoot up closer to him. “Johnny…” 

He chokes a little, his gangly body going stiff. “Y-yeah?”

You grab his face, fingers pressing against his pale, rubbery cheeks. “You wanna do it?”

For a moment, Johnathon feels like the world has gone still. Everything is muffled and slow as the realization dawns on him. “Wuh-what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You repeat, squishing his cheeks after each word like you were making him say them too.

“Yes! I-I mean, I would really like to, you’re so pretty, b-but uh, I’m a little, hah, how do you say it, ohmygosh this is harder than I thought it’d be! Uhm!” He flusters and rambles, hands flapping in front of his chest, and you’re just waiting. You’re looking at him with lidded, bedroom eyes, and Johnathon thinks he finally understands the meaning of that word. 

“I don’t have, I don’t have a penis!” 

A beat goes by, and then another, and he begins to feel like he blew his only shot with you.

“Do you have a vagina? It’s not an issue for me, I wanna fuck you either way.”

Jesus Christ, you are going to kill him. 

“I mean, I don’t have anything.” He breathes out, shoulders deflating. “The uh, the whole collider thing got rid of it all.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.” You pat his shoulder, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “But, y’know, the offer still stands…maybe we can get a little science-y and figure out how to get you off, eh?”

Johnathon lifts his head and finds you grinning at him. “Science-y?” He repeats, his face hole crinkling like a smile. 

“Yeah, dude! Science-y! Hypothesis! Theories! Quantum holes! Your holes!”

He snorts and it leads into a laugh, a deep belly laugh that he hasn’t been able to do in a while. And really, why the hell not?

His laugh dies down when you get closer, straddling his thighs and seating yourself down in his lap—and god, he can feel those short shorts he loves riding up your thighs and wrinkling against his skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You croon, leaning in and nudging your nose under his chin. If Johnathon still had a dick, that would have sent blood right down to it. 

His inkblot holes quiver amongst his body, undulating and jumping across his skin like microscopic particles, bouncing against each other under a microscope. Your face gets closer to his, lips hovering over the entrance of his face. Gently, curiously, you purse your lips and kiss the voided space. It’s almost as if there’s a thin membrane separating the outside world from the inside of him, cool to the touch and like bubblegum stretched thin. The membrane melds against your lips like it’s kissing you back and when Johnathon shivers, it puckers and purses. 

His hands tremble, hovering above your hips and thighs, as if it’d burn him to touch you properly, despite how much he craves it. 

Your tongue drags over the edge of his face hole and Johnathon practically whimpers. You’re humming softly, one hand idly stroking his arm as the other feels up his chest. He used to be a tad bit insecure about his pudgy torso, but with so many spots, he had other things to outweigh the worry. But now he can’t help but hold his breath, waiting for your approval of his body, the kind he so desperately needs.

“Cute.” You say mostly to yourself, dipping your fingers into a hole in his chest. He sighs out heavily in relief and pleasure, his head thumping back against the edge of the couch. 

“How’s this feel?” You poke and prod into the hole, pressing past the same kind of membrane as his face. Vaguely, you feel your fingertips come back out of another hole, but you don’t focus as much on that part. 

“Good,” Jonathan answers curtly, sucking a breath through his nonexistent teeth. When he exhales, it's shuddery and almost pitiful. “It’s good, it’s like- like there but not,” 

“So you can feel it? What if I do something like this?” Curiously, you curl your fingers in the empty space, and a fuzzy feeling coats your skin as if your fingers were pruning yet stayed completely dry. He yelps loudly, his body lurching and he finally grabs onto you. His fingers dig into your thighs on their own accord and you are absolutely delighted with it.

“Oh god!” He cries, his thighs shifting and squirming under your lap, and you start to feel something poking at your ass. You give a confused hum, lift your hips and look down. Nope, he still doesn't have a dick, but the empty space between his legs has seemingly swollen into a small, adorable bulge. Johnathon breathes out heavily and follows your gaze.

“Wow, that’s so cool…” You reach down between your laps and grind the heel of your palm against the bulge.

He gasps sharply. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s what I'm trying to do.” You snicker impishly. You observe the way the squishy bulge flushes with color around the surface, almost like a blush. “I bet that feels really good, huh? It’s kinda like you have a really big clit. Sorta” You squish it in your hands and he shudders, shoulders tensing and inkblot shrinking. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

Johnathon feels a little loopy, his stomach filled with butterflies and his brain thoroughly mush. He considers this endeavor so far to be successful considering the fact he didn't think he still could  feel pleasure. But here you are, proving him wrong once again. 

“Wh-what would?” He finds himself asking, rutting his hips up into your hand like a depraved little thing. 

You don’t answer verbally yet, just sit back down on his lap and rock your hips against his. “If you fucked yourself like this.” Your fingers curl back into one of his holes, running up and down the edge of it. Johnathon melts, blubbering out nearly unintelligible pleas. 

“You can do it, right? I’ll keep fingering you if you hump me like a dirty dog.” 

And oh, that does things to him. He’ll…have to address that new kink later. 

“Yes,” he gasps, grabbing on tightly to your hips and canting his hips up, grinding his bulge against your sex. “Yessss!” He can’t help but cry it out, his smooth head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck from the sheer intensity of it all. The heat of you is almost unbearable on his body, inside his holes. And he really is panting like a dog, he’s humping you like he actually has a dick to work with, like you could grab him and stroke him until he was a weeping mess. 

“That’s it, you don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, right? C’mon, show me what you’re made of, you little nerd.” You’re cooing to him like it’s praise, and with the way you’re stroking the inside of him, pressing your fingers past that membrane and curling until the fuzziness is almost unbearable, you might as well be.

Johnathon moans wetly against your neck, legs widening and hands holding your hips down firmly as he ruts. He grinds his aching core against you, practically delirious and melting with every saccharine whisper in his ear. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you hear him say, muffled against your skin and devious delight spreads through your entire being. You hook your fingers into the hole of his face and he cries out, a debauched “Ah! Ah!” as you lift his head up. His inkblot holes shiver violently, and you hold his face in your hands like he’s your entire world, like he’s the only thing that matters to you.

And then you lean in, holding his face so carefully—

And spit.

The man below you gurgles, your spit falling down the hole in his face as a viscous glob tasting faintly of beer. Johnathon thrusts his hips up once, twice, and he’s cumming. Nothing comes out of him, but you swear you can see the holes of him drooling, dripping liquid dark matter that hurts your eyes a little to stare at too long. Pleasure blooms in you at the sight and feeling of his incessant rutting, your hands petting his head as his first orgasm in so long washes over him.

And finally, he slumps back against the couch, trembling under you, the surface of his face flushed with color. You lift yourself off his lap, your shorts still wet with your own arousal, but you’re not done with him yet.

“It’s no good to leave your partner high and dry, you know?” You tease him, and the realization dawns on his faceless face. 

“O-OH! Oh, I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t mean- that wasn’t my intention at all! Wh-what should I do? What do you like? Oh god, I’m so sorry—“

You quiet him by lifting his gangly legs up, exposing him even further. “Don't worry about it, it’s your first time! That just means I’ll have to use you.” That evil little grin is back as you brace one foot on the floor and the other on the couch cushions, slotting your hips against his. Poor Johnathon is practically folded in half, one leg hanging over your shoulder and the other dangling uselessly to the side. 

You don’t waste any time either, you get right to it, hips thrusting quick and hard against his over sensitive bulge. And oh, how he squeals. He’s always been a talkative man, but he never could have anticipated being this vocal. 

“Uhgn! Hah! Mmm-mmph! I-I can’t! S’too much, too much!” He babbles on, sights locked on how your hips connect with his, ruthlessly grinding and rutting and it reminds him of some kind of wild animal. 

“You can, huff, take it. Jus’ a lil more,'' your head hangs low between your shoulders, arousal twining together deep in your gut. Johnathon feels it too, and he feels it tenfold. His body feels like it’s on fire, steadily submerged in pleasure until he’s burning alive in it. He can’t take how you look above him either, so goddamn ethereal, the dim overcast of the tv lighting you from behind like a digital halo, as if you were an angel sent to soothe him after such chaos. Johnathon was never a religious man, but for you, he thinks he could be.

It only takes you a little longer, already so wound tight from before. He’s dangling on the precipice of release again, delirious with lust, clinging onto the back of your neck and tugging you in.

You find your face inside of him when you cum, and somehow the deprivation of sensory makes it all the better, colors popping up in your vision like synesthesia. You can feel his thighs tighten around you with his budding climax, but you can’t see, and you already know how you regret that. You suppose you’ll just have to overstimulate him again one day when he can’t hide himself from your view.

Johnathon goes limp and you’re finally able to pull your face from the inside of his, the dark matter sliding free from your skin like an unsticky slime. It’s weird, but oddly refreshing.

Cum stains the inside of your shorts but it’s the last thing on your mind when you take in the visual that is Johnathon. He practically glows with post coital bliss, seeped back into couch cushions without the tension you’re so used to. 

You let his legs fall back down, slumping into the seat next to him. He hums softly in delight, kinda loopy, entirely pleased. 

“So?” You question him, idly stroking his soft chest. It’s sweaty in its own way. “Was that good for your very first time?” You waggle your brows at him and he snorts, albeit a little weakly.

“Incredibly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life.”

You clap happily. “And you’re no longer a forty year old virgin!”

“I told you I’m NOT forty!”

[ihareyhis]

Spideys as incorrect quotes pt2

Hobie: *Kicks the door down*

Pavitr: What did you do?

Hobie: Nobody died.

Pavitr: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

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Miguel: What do you call disobeying the law?

The Squad: A hobby.

Miguel: *crosses their arms*

The Squad: That we do not engage in

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Pavitr: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?

Hobie: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

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

Pavitr, pointing at Hobie: Are they a Freak (derogatory)?

Pavitr, pointing at Gwen: Or a Freak (affectionate)?

Miles: Why not both?

Pavitr, to Miles: You’re so right, Freak

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

Pavitr: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Hobie: *crouches down*

Gwen: *kneels down*

Miles: *sits on the floor*

Pavitr: I hate you all

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

Miles: How do Hobie and Pavitr usually get out of these messes?

Gwen: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.

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

Gwen: Hey Pavitr.

Pavitr: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: What the fuck?

Pavitr: You are one of my very best friends. And I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this. You're too young....YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!

Gwen: What the fuck are you talking about?

Pavitr: I'm talking about the baby that's growing inside of your belly right now.

Gwen: I'm not pregnant!

Pavitr: Well, not after that punch you're not. I've been taking muay thai classes.

Gwen: I was never pregnant, Pavitr!

Pavitr: Are... you sure?

Gwen: Yes I'm fucking sure!

Hobie: I'm sorry, but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?

Pavitr: Oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and—

Hobie: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: AW, MOTHERFU–

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Gwen: Today at 7 am, Pavitr poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Hobie: I watched him brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.

Miles: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me

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Miles: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Pavitr: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Hobie: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Gwen: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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

Pavitr: What’s up with Gwen? she’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Hobie: She’s just a little overwhelmed.

Pavitr: Why?

Hobie: Miles smiled at her.

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

Hobie, Gwen & Miles: *screaming*

Pavitr: *runs into the room* Miles whats wrong?!

Hobie: Wait, why are you asking Miles that when Gwen and I are also here?

Pavitr: Because Miles wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

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Hobie: What’s your biggest fear?

Gwen: That I’ll never be good enough for anyone.

Miles: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.

Pavitr: Zombies.

Gwen: ...

Miles: ...

Pavitr: BUT they can open doors.

[factual-fantasy]

27 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🔮

Oooo very cool! I hope you have fun with it!! :DDD And as for how I make a story it kind'a depends-

For Grimace, Sylvester and the rest of the gang.. well that was just my Violet team. I gave them personalities that I thought would suit them and just.. went from there I guess? <:D

For Conkeldurr, Zuora, Emboar and the 4 piglets.. well, it started with just thinking about Conkeldurr and how much I like that Pokémon. I pictured him as a Gentle giant and imagined how fun it would be to draw him with some other tiny Pokémon that he adopted. I went through the Unovan pokédex and picked a Zuora because she was small and fluffy <XD

After making a post about them I wanted to give Conkeldurr a friend. Well I like the Emboar line so hey why not do that? She can be a mama Emboar to switch it up and she can have 4 kids. Why not? Since I didn't draw her in that first post, I made the story they they went their separate ways for a time but now they're back together.

I honestly don't have solid concrete advice I can offer- I just think "hey this would be neat" and slap it on there. Or I think "hey this scenario would be fun to draw" and so I structure the events and story to make the characters run into this scenario in a reasonable way. That's really all I do.. <:D

@beryl-shade

I've seen Markiplier play it :0 Its.. well its something! <:D

(Referencing this post)

<XD I never understood why they made him Spanish, the sudden guitar noise is always a jumps care XDDD

@shiny-is-miney

Humans do not exist in any of my Octonauts AUs, nor have they ever <:/

@catain-skyler1987

I do not <:/ sorry!

@nwo-metalscottic

Daww,, thank you 🥹🥹🥹its been rough these past.. how ever many months- my health is still poor and I still am glued to my bed/the couch 24/7.. but I'm hoping to finally see some improvement soon.. and I hope you feel better too! <:))

Any who, I'm glad to hear your views on Conkeldurr! :D Some people can be kind'a harsh :x As for the Tepigs, I can see them sticking around even after evolving into Pignites. They love their mama and would have no desire to leave her.. 🥺

As for what threatens them.. when they were apart, I kind'a image any meat eating Pokémon that thinks they could take them in a fight would be a threat. Or perhaps territorial Pokémon or protective parents that would see a big Pokémon coming near and just attack on instinct.

Now that the two of them are together, they have a lot less trouble with random Pokémon. They're a much bigger challenge to take on as a team. Plus I can see Zuora walking with them disguised as a second Emboar or Conkeldurr. Creating a group that looks like three macho parents that will fiercely protect their piglets.

As for the Minecraft movie, here's the thing about the Piglins. In the actual game they turn into Zombie Piglins the moment they leave the Nether. Why are they still normal Piglins despite running through a village??

And a Netflix show... uhg.. I'm just not interested. I feel like Minecraft looses all its charm when you convert it into a show or movie. And especially if you mess up Steve as badly as they did. Jack Black.. that's the worst casting I can think of.🤦

This is so cool! It feels like it could be canon to the Pokémon universe! :DD

Also thank you so much!! :)))

I have! :0 I watched 8-bitryan play some of it! :) ALSO THANK YOU!! :DDD

@cicutagreninja

WOW!! :00 THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I plan to return to it someday!! :)))

@astaherussy (Referencing this post)

I think I put that on almost out of habit <XD when I picture old abandoned houses I imagine notes stuck to the door warning of debts and bills that need to be paid lest the owners get evicted. So I drew that because it felt fitting!

..Only just now did I realize that the old owners were supposed to be a mystery.. if there was any at all. So having that note on the door doesn't really make sense.. 😅

ALSO WAAHG THANK YOU!! :DDD

I've seen the FNAF movie and I've seen multiple Youtubers play all the FNAF games. Though I haven't played through any of them myself. :00

As for what I thought of them.. I have a place in my heart for all the games. From the lore jumbling ruin DLC, to the classic first game, I'm a total sucker and I love them all.💞💞

The movie wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. I adored the inclusion of MatPat and the intended inclusion of Markiplier. There were some aspects I didn't like and a lot of missed opportunities in my opinion. And of course the lore is all outa whack..

None the less, I think the movie is charming. And my love for FNAF has only strengthened upon the movies release :))

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Since Metagross isn't in Black/White (Its in Black/White 2) I wont be looking into that species for a bit.. and I wont be looking at Mega evolutions-

As for a Quantum slime equivalent, I have no intentions to make equivalents for all the slimes- I didn't add trubbish to be an equivalent to pinks. I just noted that Trubbish are a common slime that can eat anything, just like pinks are :0

The slimes and foods I add will be their own thing. Not intending to replicate or replace any of the canon slimes or fruits/veggies/meats from slime rancher. If that makes sense-

@petrichormeraki

I don't really have any proper name ideas for them 😅 I've just been calling them the shiny one, the normal one, the runt and the big one. XDD

Also thank you!! :DDD

Oooo that's really interesting actually! :000 That would have been a much more tame version of my Zuoras story <XDDD

@pigeonsplural

SLAKJDJ THANK YOUUU!! :)))0

*plotting noises......

(Referencing this post)

This ask will be very relevant soon.. 😈 Also thank you! :)))

@roughsketch2010

WAHGG THANK YIU SOMUCH!! :DDD

@kermit-ydafrog

Daww 🥹 Thank you! MY question is why are you so kind?? :DDD

I've heard of it and seen a lot of fanart, but i never got into it myself😅

Thank you for remembering my boundaries and respecting them! <:) And yeah that paints a pretty vivid picture in my head XDDD

@holly-opal

He would have been a better voice for Bowser then Jack Black in my opinion..

@fandomcenteral

WAAHHG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD And its still a surprise to me that I'm considered a celebrity :00 I hope people aren't intimidated to send me asks because of that.. <:D

@muncho1234 (eye post in question)

Peso, Dashi, Tunip and Ranger Marsh have no eye bags because they have decent sleeping schedules and diets. :0 The rest of the characters either have poor sleeping schedules, deal with a lot of stress, or are very hard workers and burn up all their energy throughout the day.. :(

Oh boy 💀

@minnesotamedic186 (Eye studies post) (Kwazii and Calico Jack hug post) (Ranger Marsh jump scare post)

WAAHGG THANK YOU!!! :DD I ALWATS LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE NOTICE THE DETAILS I PUT IN!! :))))

@caronaro-flipaclip

<XD While I agree with this, I cant help but get red in the face when people like/reblog my old artwork.😅😅 And there's nothing wrong with that! It just shows how far I've come! :)

[666writingcafe]

New Voice Messages (Part Three)

Lucifer

"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."

"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."

"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"

A Few Hours Later

"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

[dotster001]

im not certain if you're taking requests or if you even write crowley so if you don't, please ignore this and have a lovely day :)

reader who has a crush on crowley and shows this by stealing his coat and top hat at any oppertunity, because thievery is my love language and also his coat looks really nice and comfy.

Crow(ley) Brain

A/N: I really liked how this came out. Hope it was what you were looking for 😁

3k followers masterlist

CW:It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

Present Day

Dire was getting ready for his work as headmaster, but he couldn't find his mask. He'd taken it off the night before so that he could turn your cuddle session into a full on makeout session. He could have sworn it was on the side table, but it was just…gone. 

"You haven't seen my mask, have you?" He asked as he started lifting up blankets and pillows and his various shiny things he kept on the floor.

"No," you said simply.

He turned back around, and you were fully dressed in his hat, mask, and coat, the coat hanging haphazardly off your shoulders.

"You're certain you haven't seen my mask?" he said with a smirk.

"Nope."

He walked up to you, lifting the mask slightly off your face so that he could kiss the tip of your nose.

"Well, you know, if I don't have my stuff, I can't go to work, and you can't go to class, cause I'll be lonely."

You gave the fakest gasp he's ever heard. "Oh no!"

He sighed.

"I can be generous with my lover. Five more minutes together, then you'll give me back my stuff."

You pouted. "25 minutes."

"Deal."

He really should not even bother looking anymore. Long before you'd started dating, you'd shown your hand. He just could forget all about it when you smiled at him so innocently.

6 months prior…

"Listen, prefect, the rest of the boys and I are starting to get suspicious," Ace whispered as you cycled through your keys. You'd bought a lot off of Sam, so you couldn't be sure which one was the one you were looking for.

"About what?"

"Well, you said that we were doing this to prank Crowley, but we aren't sure if that's true."

"Huh?"

"Look, the rest will never say it to your face, but you spend far too much time hanging out with the headmage for it to be a normal thing."

"I'm not following your logic."

Ace exhaled heavily. "Well, some of the guys think, not necessarily me, but some of them, think that-"

"YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH THE HEADMAGE, HENCHHUMAN!" a gray blob shouted as it rammed into you, making you drop all the keys and lose your place.

"Sevens! Grim! You're supposed to keep watching at the end of the hall!"

"You don't need six people guarding a set of stairs and a hallway that doesn't spawn more than 40 feet," Grim folded his arms with a harrumph.

By sheer luck, you found the key you needed on the first try, and opened the headmage's office.

"What makes you think I'm in love with the headmage?" you asked with a scowl. "Nevermind, just watch the door. We'll discuss your idiocy later."

You stomped into the room, Grim right behind you.

"Grim! I said-"

"Ace can watch the door just fine! You can't avoid this conversation! Even Jack and Deuce are suspicious, and they don't notice anything!"

You glared, before digging through Crowley's desk, looking for something, anything, to take.

"That doesn't make any sense. If I loved Crowley, why would I rob him?"

"Perhaps to get his attention," the devil in question boomed directly behind you. Both you and Grim froze, and you stared at the open door.

"Ace!" You whined.

He peeked in, saw Crowley, and grimaced, before giving a half hearted,

"Um, caw caw…."

"Too late, Ace!" You snapped.

"He didn't come through the door!" He snapped back.

"Correct. In my geniusness, I laid a trap for you!"

You pouted. Sam must have sold you out. Your crew was stupid, but they were rock solid.

You turned to Crowley, putting your most innocent grin on.

"What can I do for you, headmage?"

"I'd like my things back, my darling crow," he hummed.

"Things?" Sweet, innocent, give him nothing to work with.

"You got sloppy, darling," he smirked, hooking a clawed finger under the chain you were wearing, revealing your gold pendant.

Or, more accurately, his gold pendant.

"I'll admit, you had me fooled for a while, but even the dimmest will notice if you literally flaunt your stolen trinkets. Although," he paused, tilting his head to the side, "it does suit you." He hummed for a moment, then, "Keep it."

"Huh?"

"I want you to keep it." He seemed to remember Ace and Grim were there, and he gave a cough.

"You two. I have the mastermind. Get out of here before I change my mind."

Ace and Grim sprinted away without a glance back. Cowards.

You pouted, until you felt the claw from earlier tilting your chin up.

"What am I going to do with you, prefect?" He muttered, and in a way that you felt like you weren't actually meant to hear.

"I suppose all I can do is give you the attention you seem to crave." His smile would light up your world anyway.

4 months prior….

But it wasn't about attention. Which is why, even though you were Crowley's partner of two months, you still stole his stuff.

But today? Today was your masterpiece! You'd somehow managed to steal his cloak. You felt bad as hell.

And, since you two were dating, you were going to get away with it! Everyone assumes it was a sweet gesture, intended to keep a cold partner warm, or a possessive gesture, intended to show everyone who you belonged to. Either way? No one questioned you.

No one but the man himself, who had snuck up behind you in the courtyard and placed both his hands on your shoulders.

"Morning, my radiant prefect," he hummed, clearly grinning at how stiff you'd gotten. "I thought we had fixed our little thieving issue. Have you felt I've been neglecting you?" He nuzzled into your neck, pressing a ticklish kiss there.

"Nope. Just wanted to take it," you answered. You decided that honesty was what would make this relationship work.

"Oh? Any reason?" He asked, gently attempting to take it off your shoulders, while you sidestepped. To an outsider, it would look like two lovers doing a dance, not a headmage trying to steal his coat back.

"If I told you, it would spoil the fun of the mystery for you!" You sang as you expertly freed yourself and skipped away.

2 months prior…

"You're dating the man. Literally, you want his hat, ask for it!" Sebek growled. 

Ace was no longer your lookout when robbing your boyfriend. And Jack's new job was distracting Grim. You'd learned your lesson.

And you were thinking you were learning a new one. Sebek was too loud to be a lookout. You'd have to promote Epel or Deuce next round.

"It's not as exciting like that!" You growled, using the key you'd stolen to unlock his room.

"I don't understand! It seems foolish!"

"I agree." Crowley was always a step ahead of you these days. It was infuriating.

"I am more than happy to just give you my hat," he said, plopping his hat on your head. "In fact, I love taking every opportunity to show your admirers that you are mine!"

Sebek raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

You pouted. "It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?" He gave a booming laugh, pushing his hat over your eyes.

"How do I phrase this," you muttered, giggling as you pulled the hat back up. "You know how when you see something shiny, you can't resist the urge to take it?"

"And you feel like that about my stuff?"

"Sort of," you groaned in frustration, then perked back up, an idea in your head. "Okay, you know how when you see something cute, you just are filled with such joy that you want to squeeze it until it pops? Well, I see you, and I'm filled with so many emotions, and so much joy, that I just want to take your stuff and giggle!"

"That," Crowley breathed heavily, "is the sweetest thing I've ever heard!" He started sobbing, scooping you into his arms and holding you there, his hat falling to the ground.

"I shall, uh, take my leave," Sebek said with a cough as your boyfriend clung to you.

Present day…

"Twenty five minutes up," Crowley groaned. "Now be good, and give me my stuff back."

You pouted, but slowly removed the hat, mask, and cloak, handing them back with a growl.

He laughed lightly. "I know, dearest, but I need them for work. You'll have a chance to take them again tomorrow."

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, then your nose, then a long kiss to your lips.

"I hope I get to see you today."

"Me too," you whispered. Crowley left with a grin.

When you were certain he was gone, you put on your new ring. Or more accurately.

His old ring.

[artificial-transmutations]

Two sides of the same coin - Officer

Buck and Tony were the perfect gay couple. They lived together since years, almost never argued and, most importantly, loved each other unconditionally. Their relationship was so close that they often said they were practically married anyway. In fact, their parents even got along quite well with each other!

They shared the same interests including a love for video games, so today, as usual on a Saturday evening, they were lying on the couch together, playing and played some relaxing video game. They had ordered pizza before and were happy they didn't need to leave the house anymore today. It could have been an evening like any other Saturday evening, but it wasn't.

Tony felt a bit uncomfortable and shifted around in his seat before he reached under himself, fishing out a small sparkling coin.

"Ha! Thought I was sitting on something! Look at that." He showed Buck the shiny piece of metal.

"What is it?" asked Buck curiously.

"I don't know, it just appeared out of nowhere," Tony answered. As he took a closer look however, the coin just vanished into thin air. "Huh, weird!"

"Maybe it was just some cookie and it crumbled apart when you picked it up", suggested Buck.

"Perhaps...", Tony said, not really convinced and tried to get back to his game. However, he was finding the video game increasingly boring. He glanced over to see if Buck was still concentrating on the screen, but Buck's eyes were focused on him instead.

"What?" he asked, feeling embarrassed.

"Nothing," Buck replied quickly.

"No, tell me what you're looking at."

"You," Buck said simply.

"Me? Why?"

"Because you are sexy," Buck admitted shyly.

It seemed like Buck was in the mood today. Well, why not. "How about we watch some porn", suggested Tony.

Since a few minutes ago, Buck was feeling increasingly horny. He was rarely in the mood for sex, but today was different. So, when Tony suggested to put on some porn, Buck agreed quickly. After all, watching two men fuck each other was pretty hot stuff after all.

When they turned on the TV and found a nice gay movie, they settled down onto the couch again and watched the scene unfold. It was about a cop controlling traffic who forced a speeding man to suck his cock instead of paying. The guy obviously liked sucking cock and sucked on the officer's hard dick while getting fucked from behind by his partner.

Buck was already rubbing his own cock through his jeans when he saw how the two guys kissed passionately.

Tony also found concentrating on the porn movie much easier than the game before. Somehow, he had found the game a bit too difficult to follow today. His eyes were glued to the police officer on the screen, and he also massaged his cock in his sweatpants.

Without looking to his boyfriend, he asked: "Do you think a police uniform would suit me?"

"Sure," Buck responded at once, picturing his boyfriend in a police uniform. Both of them weren't exactly fit, so he had to use a bit of fantasy to imagine Tony as a burly policeman, but yeah, it could definitely work.

"And then there's my hair," continued Tony, stroking his medium black hair. "I should cut it shorter, right?"

"Yeah," Buck nodded enthusiastically, thinking about Tony as a cop with a short buzz cut. It would certainly make him look more intimidating.

While they were both fantasizing, the movie had come to an end. Tony immediately started a new one and discarded his shirt and pants. Now only in his boxers, he fished out his cock and started stroking it slowly.

"And if I were a cop, what would my uniform look like", he asked.

Buck found this whole conversation oddly erotic, so he answered without hesitation: "I think it would be blue."

"With golden buttons", added Tony, imagining himself being dressed in a tight uniform. He couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of having a big bulge in his pants. He imagined how people would react if he walked past them in such clothes.

Buck was so into the conversation that he didn't even notice that on the tv screen, the scene had turned into a mmf threesome. Tony was still watching it but found it oddly exciting. How had he never noticed that bouncing boobs excited him?

Buck was feeling light-headed. The mental images of Tony in a police uniform didn't seem so far off, actually. He had a good fit build and wore his hair in a short buzz cut already. He just needed a bit more muscle, and of course, a uniform. He briefly imagined how it must feel to be his uniform? To cling to that muscular body, to cover that firm ass.

"You would go commando of course", Buck fantasized, "Nothing between your dick and me..."

"You?" asked Tony and switched the porn channel. Straight porn. A busty blonde being fucked by a cop. Why not? "You want to be my uniform?"

Buck didn't mean to say it out loud, but the question alone made him stroke his cock even harder. "Yes! Think about it! I could be your vest, and your pants, and even your boots!"

Tony wasn't sure what to think of that idea of being this intimate with another man, he was no fag, after all. On the other hand, that wasn't a man he was talking about, but a mere object, a bit of fabric, leather and metal.

Buck didn't know what hit him. He was a human being, but right now, nothing felt righter than being just a set of clothing, wrapped around this man’s chiseled physique. The large muscles that danced when he stroked his cock to each moan of the girl on tv, the heavy balls that made a sweaty slapping sound, the muscular butt. With a cry of ecstasy, Buck came, shooting cum all over his body. At the same time, he deflated, like a balloon losing air. His feet were the first to change, becoming black combat boots. His legs followed suit and turned into a pair of blue police pants, while his cock and balls elongated into a black leather belt with a weapon holster. The cum quickly dried into his chest, as it turned into a blue vest with badges on them and a white undershirt. Finally, his head turned into a black leather police cap, as the last remains of his human mind faded away.

The last thing he sensed was that the police office on the couch finally came, spewing cum all over himself. A big strong hand grabbed his undershirt body and wiped away the cum with it. The uniform part gladly absorbed all of it, adding one more stain to the numerous ones that were already there.

Tony, the police officer sighed. He needed that break. There hadn't been any hot woman speeding today and he had felt blue-balled. Perhaps he should just start stopping hot babes for no reason. Yeah, he grinned. That sounded like a great idea. He quickly got dressed, not caring about the wet cum stains on his undershirt. Of course, he went commando. He always did, he just loved the thought of not having anything between his large cock and his uniform pants. And the bulge was a real eye-catcher for the ladies, too.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like my other ones in this theme. Also be sure to check out this cool blog!

[3zethe3zr]

STP Voices preening headcanons

These are mostly based off of my designs for the voices (silly little anthropomorphic corvids - each a different species with a different accessory) But i thought they were too fun not to share :]

Now, in some particular order:

Takes absolute shit care of themselves and their feathers:

Broken (Collared Crow)- I feel like this one is self-explanatory. Its Broken. His feathers are fifty shades of fucked up and hes trapped in too much self loathing to ever consider preening, social or not. The manacles have damaged his wing feathers to the point that even without the chains, he cannot fly. Cold (Common Raven)- Feeling nothing does not mean they experience any discomfort when unkempt and sees self maintenance as wholly boring. Is absolutely rank. Also considers social preening an absolute waste of time, is lucky to have Hunted as a bestie Cheated (Chough)- Never gets in horrid enough condition that Broken and Cold do, but somehow manages to be worse. Does not see the point in self maintenance when his feathers are just going to get fucked up in the future, but the second he feels he's too unkempt he will start complaining. Doesn't enjoy social preening either, so the others have to force him at metaphorical gunpoint, and he whines the entire time

Takes insanely good care of their feathers:

Opportunist (Eurasian Magpie)- First impressions matter! He is always ridiculously well put together and shiny. Wants the connections social preening could give (and maybe a friend), so tries to initiate it frequently. Often the one badgering Cheated to take care of himself by appealing to Cheateds' better nature. Cheated does not have a better nature. Hunted (Malayan Black Magpie)- Well maintained feathers have a fuck ton of benefits for a Weird Fucked Up Prey Creature so Hunted is insanely diligent about making sure every feather is in order, and gets cagey and on edge when this is not the case. Social Preening is its primary way of bonding and it greatly enjoys it. The one keeping Colds feathers from getting too nasty.

Perfectly average preening habits, nothing to write home about:

Hero (Carrion Crow)- Tries his best but often ends up a little scruffed up around the edges Skeptic (Taiwan Blue Magpie)- Normally keeps themselves very presentable, you can tell when their mind is occupied as they get unkept very quickly Contrarian (Steller's Jay)- Always looks perfect without having to try at all. Everyone else hates this.

Would have good care of their feathers BUT:

Paranoid (Rook)- Anxiety is a double-edged sword, he takes very good care of his feathers due to it, but can also over-preen and has a few bald patches. His gloves bend his wing feathers out of shape and that only stresses him out more. Does not trust any of the others to preen him. Smitten (Blue Jay)- His feathers are ridiculously well groomed, and he cares about looking good. However, he does not take that helmet off ever, and nobody else is allowed to take that helmet off- so his facial & head feathers are as fucked up, bent and grimy as Broken and Colds. Perhaps even worse. Outside of the helmet thing, he delights in social preening. Stubborn (Jackdaw)- Being in good condition means he can fight for longer, so preening is a worthwhile investment to make. Post fight, you're going to need a fucking construction crew to put him and all his feathers back into place. Doesnt enjoy social preening and gets fidgety and bored fast.

[muffinsin]

what’s your thoughts on the g!p sisters when seeing their fem lovers get teary from the intense fucking she’s getting from them or teary from gagging on their cocks, fuck I can just imagine them fucking me or my mouth, and I get teary from the intense feeling, and how I wish I was all marked up from them, something that shows that I belong to them.

-rambunctious anon

(I promise I’ll get to older/previous asks again! XP trying to get out of my writer’s block🙇‍♀️) (I see that one Dani x knight one I promise🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️)

Very interesting ask!👀

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

She smiles softly when she sees you gag around her cock

Sweetly, she brushes your tears away

“Is it too much, little one? Does Mommy need to slow down, pet?”

Still, she wears a proud smirk

She thinks you look absolutely adorable

Just as you attempt to answer, she likes to push herself deeper down, her balls hitting your chin and her tip sliding down the back of your throat

“What’s that? I can’t hear you, little one”

She loves to see you struggle around her cock, tears streaming down your cheeks while you gag

What a precious sight, it makes her want to tease and overwhelm you for hours

Eventually, she settles for grabbing your chin and blowing a kiss your way

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, pet”

Bela likes to have you stay still for her while she toys with you

Of course, she is therefore a big fan of seeing your reactions to such things

Poor, desperate you, squirming below her and crying when she edges you for hours

Ah, but the view is so precious, it just makes her wish to continue even longer

Bela will gladly fuck you hard and slow, use her mouth and fingers and discover all sensitive spots in and on your body

No, she would feel insulted if she was not able to drag tears from you!

When she edges you, she wants you completely ruined and needy for her

Begging, crying- no- sobbing for her to let you cum

Perhaps, she will show you mercy

Perhaps, she will merely pump you full of cum and leave you right on the edge for her, so she can always continue on when she feels like it ;)

Another one of her favourite times to see you cry, is when she overstimulates you

With her tongue dominating yours, she will wipe your tears and kiss them away gently

Of course, her hips will not still their movement

She knows to differentiate between tears of overstimulation, gagging, pain, sadness and anxiety

With a gentle fingertip wiping at your tears, she will stimulate you even more and bring more tears from you

Rub your little clit until it’s red and sore for her

Sometimes you wonder- is her goal to make it match the gemstone at her necklace?!

Or to keep on fucking your tight holes, make you cry when she stretches you or keeps going right after an orgasm

“Don’t cry just yet, little one. We have a long way ahead”, she coos

3

Cassandra

Ah, the sadist

Naturally, she loves this reaction from you

Rest assured, her eyes only widen in excitement when your gagging around her cock makes you shed a few tears

She moans and you feel her cock twitch inside of you, leaking precum even

With her hand grabbing your hair and forcing you to stay in place, a smirk is your only warning before she starts using you properly

Her hips snap back and forth fast as she face fucks you even harder

The more tears flow from your cheeks, the more eager she becomes

She loves to see you sob and choke around her cock

Beautiful, shiny tears

Wet eyelashes and red eyes looking up at her

It drives her crazy and prompts her to take you even harder

Cassandra loves to put makeup or so on you, merely so she can watch it run and smear when you cry

Even better, however, is to make you cockwarm her after she has edged you all day

After using and toying with you, bringing you near an orgasm over and over again

All day, until you squirm from a simple touch

Only to sit you on her cock while she polishes her sickle, your tight hole around her

To drag tears from you as you cry and beg for her to fuck you already after such little time, so painfully deprived of her harsh movements and skilled, fast thrusts

To drag her sharp nails across your hip, enough to cut and see you jump

Her sickle against your neck as she licks your tears

She moans filthily at the salty flavor

“Mghmmn, the things you do to me, pet”

You feel her twitch inside of you and see her shiver whenever you cry

Ah, but her favourite scenario of making you cry?

To have you standing upright, hands chained above your head, legs spread, her cock deep inside

A knife dragged from your skin, her hands and a whip cutting and slapping against you

Your filthy moans contrasting with your sweet, helpless cries and screams and her delighted laughter

You have a safe word, and as such, tears mean nothing to her and only spur her on

Her warm tongue loves to drag against your cheeks and neck to clean all the deliciously salty tears from you

“Cry some more, pet. Show me this delicious fear”

Each tear prompts more cuts and slaps from the whip

You best don’t mind ;)

Daniela

“Aww, my sweet! There’s no need to cry”

She thinks it’s so cute when you cry from the pleasure she gives you!

It’s a way to show her what a good job she’s doing!

Oh, and she do so loves teasing you about it

“What’s that? Look at all those pretty tears…all for me, my love?”

Of course, she makes sure to check in with you to see whether these are tears of overstimulation or panic

She giggles especially when you start to cry and choke on her cock, as though struggling to keep up with her massive size

“My sweet darling! You look ravishing. I could eat you up!”

You know, she will prove the truth of her words later on

But it’s your turn to devour her first, in the form of cum shooting down your throat and her large tip hitting the back of it

She loves to caress your cheeks and hold your face while she makes you take her down her throat

Especially, when your cheeks are flushed adorably

Slow, deep thrusts that make you gag and cry for her

Her hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping at your tears

A blush on her cheeks while she coos at how adorable and pathetic you look for her

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my love”, she coos when tears of overstimulation flow down your cheeks

You’ve just orgasmed, yet she can’t stop

“Mhmmm, but it just feels so good, my sweet. I can’t…yes..!”

And still, she keeps on ramming inside, her hips twitching and her cock leaking pre cum

You truly can’t blame her; she just can’t help herself- you feel so good!

And you’re all hers

She has a lot of stamina, and is very well capable of going many rounds

You, on the other hand, cannot hope to catch up with her

As such, it’s a common sight to see Daniela use you as you cry and moan from having your overstimulated pussy filled and used

Her hands are all over you, just so she can see what other parts could make you shed a tear here and there

While she isn’t nearly as sadistic as her sister, she loves the sight of the salty, wet tears down your cheeks

She loves kissing them once they dry

“You look so adorable, my sweet”

[supernaturalfreewill]

The echo of the doorbell was a welcome excuse to extract yourself from the grating conversation your mother had engaged you. “I’ll get it!” you said, jumping up.

“Oh—let your father get it,” you mom argued.

“I’m already up! I’ve got it!” you said, fixing a smile on your face that may have come off more as a grimace. The quiet of the hallway and entryway was a welcome break and you paused on the rug and took a few deep breaths before pulling the door open. “Hi!” you started, certain it was going to be some aunt or uncle who was going to pepper you with questions about whether you were dating anyone or tell you that you were too skinny or too big or your hair was too something or your clothes were an ‘interesting choice’... but instead— “C—Crowley?! What the hell?” you gasped in a quiet whisper. He had a small birthday present in one hand, complete with a shiny ribbon and card.

“Surprise,” he said, flashing you a mischievous grin. He looked up at the house behind you. “So this is the homestead, is it? It’s practically quaint.” He started to step forward to come in but you put a hand on his chest and pushed him out onto the front step.

“What are you doing?!” you asked. 

He glanced down at the gift in his hand and back up at you. “There’s a birthday party here, isn’t there? Yours? Did I get the day wrong?”

You crossed your arms and shot him a look, exasperated. “No. I mean what are you specifically doing here, at my family party?”

“My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail, but luckily I find not being formerly invited even more tantalizing. It suggests we’re close friends, doesn’t it?” he grinned.

“Crowley!” you snapped at him. 

The smile on his face faded to a more sincere expression that you almost never saw on the King of Hell. “I recall that your upbringing wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that you were dreading coming home...”

You stared at him, confused. You blinked. Once. Twice. “You—you’re crashing this awful party my family is forcing me to be at so you can be my—moral support?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, when you say it like that it makes me sound like Martha Stewart... I just thought perhaps it would make it more bearable for you. Plus, if you point out the nastiest of your relatives I can get a little work done at the same time. Shall we?” He brushed past you and you had no choice but to close your dropped jaw and follow him back in. At minimum, this would be entertaining...

Happy Supporting Character Saturday! 

[sashi-ya]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 to 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚 +18. Uni Literature Professor! Aizen x f! virgin! reader.

✦ requested by @zella07: Hiii sashii how are you doing? I just saw the requests are open I’m soo excited can I request Sōsuke Aizen x female reader? NsFw. please thank you 🙏🏻 ➜ well of course my sweet friend, please, be my guest and enjoy 🤭. ✦ tw: +18. MDNI. virgin! reader. age gap (20years ~) reader is ~20 y/o. uni student. taking your virginity. creampie. masturbation. public. ✦ wc:3.4k ✦ masterlist

The way he fixes his glasses, the way his big hands open the book. The way his fingers run through his chocolate hair, the sweet smirk, the calming soft tone of his voice, the subtle shadow under his eyes…

You aren’t just an innocent professor, Aizen. Aren’t you? you aren’t just an innocent student. Right, (name)?.

Caramel eyes fix on yours from time to time, spying you from over his laptop. You can feel his sight as piercing as if he was touching you, penetrating you with his intense gaze.

Your cheeks burn, the tip of your ears too. The back of your pencil dances in your mouth, barely bitten by your front teeth, making your lower lip pout so delicately… what a delicious victim for a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

He stands up, with an old book in his hand a smirk on his lips.

“So, can someone please tell me what does “L'Histoire de Juliette ou les Prospérités du vice” tells us about?” Aizen asks, sitting on the corner of his desk and crossing his long legs.

Some blush, others think. Literature is not just romantic sweet books; some are full of angst, and some are written by the Marquis de Sade. The day where erotica will be discussed to your literature classes has finally arrived.

You put down your pencil. It is shiny because of your saliva, and you haven’t even noticed. Lifting your hand, you wait for Mr. Aizen to notice you. And he does.

“Yes, dear (Name)?” he puts the book down, dedicating a full smile to you.

“Juliette is a story of violent pornography depictions but also intricated philosophical concepts that are truly dark… Classic Marquis de Sade” you answer, remembering how such novel had been your first erotic book you can recall ever reading.

He seems pleased. Aizen wanted to hear those words coming from your lips; he wanted to indulge into the idea of his sweet young student swimming into the deepest depraved waters of such novel.

“Very good, (Name). Tell me, did you read it?” he asks, he needs to be sure.

“I did, Mr. Aizen. “Juliette or Vice Amply Rewarded” is an exquisite work of art” you answer back, with a rather trembly voice and a soft bouncy leg under your desk. You swallow. It’s depraved, it’s dark and you are admitting publicly that you have read it.

He doesn’t say much more, but you can tell his eyes are now bathed by an aura of pride and something else you can’t quite recognize… or perhaps you can, and it seems to be hunger, lust, and immorality.

“I will ask you all to please read the book. By the end of the month, you should have a full analysis written. As for now, let’s start studying the author, shall we?”

The class goes by smoothly. There isn’t a better professor than him. And it’s not a coincidence that his classes are the most packed of all; in order to get a spot you need to rush the day the inscriptions open. Some, of course, aren’t there because of how amazing he is explaining literature but because of his looks. He is more than handsome, Aizen has something else that attracts women and men; he is naturally enticing, the way he speaks, the way he moves…

Two hours and a half are gone. Time flies when it comes to Sosuke’s classes. As you pick everything up and prepare to leave, a book slides on your desk. Your eyes scan the hand that rests on top of the cover, and slowly they go up to find out one of your stupid classmates.

“Wh- what?” you ask, you aren’t at uni to make friends. Much less with men. “So you have read the book? Can you tell me what is it about? Porno you said?” a smelly youngster asks you with a stupid smile that perhaps wants to portray sexual interest.

You grimace.

“Uh… yes. But… you should read it, is not exactly what you think” you murmur, closing with violence the zipper of your backpack.

“Oh… yeah? It’s like old people’s porn? Ha! Bet you really like to read about it” he spits, earning a look of total disgust coming from you.

“Is not the type of porn you are used to watch, dude. Can you please go away, I wanna go home” you tell him, trying to stand up. But he won’t let you.

A sudden hand lands on that asshole’s shoulder. “Miss (Name), I’d like to discuss something before you leave. Can you make some time for me?” Mr. Aizen tells you with a soft smile, while almost crushes that guy’s shoulder.

You blink twice, but them smile back at him. A little giggle slips out of your lips as the guy who had been annoying you begins to cough and silently runs away. Aizen looks like an angel, but his presence alone can make any other man run away.

You lower your gaze. His eyes are intimidating. “Thank you, professor” you murmur, standing up.

“No problem, (Name). Now, do you think you could really stay?” he asks, showing you, he wasn’t just making that up to scare that boy away.

A wave of heat hits your guts. The air feels heavy for some seconds. He really wants you to stay… “Uh, sure! I don’t have to work tonight, so I can stay. Is something the matter, sensei?”

Your professor, who is at least two decades older than you, beams in total satisfaction. Letting you know you are more than weak for him and all of those nights in which you have written endless erotic stories thinking of him haven’t been a mere dream.

“Oh no, don’t worry! I wanted to ask you about something. It’s ok if you can’t do it, but since you have already read Juliette, what about giving me your analysis before the end of the month? In exchange I will give you the freedom to choose any other erotic novel you wish to read and by the end of the month you could send in a different analysis” he suggests, walking towards his desk. You can see the way the small of his back looks just by how well his white shirt falls around his waist.

You gasp; you well understand why he is asking you this. Is not that he wants to punish you, he really wants to give you more freedom to read whatever you please. You have won the “teacher’s pet” title apparently… and you love it.

“Yes! I will! Thank you so much, Professor Aizen!” you chime, excitedly. And soon you took your hands to your mouth… did you just shown him what your favourite literature genre was?

Aizen walks around his desk, dragging sloppily his index on top of it. Sensually touching that surface, making you wish it was your skin.

You swallow, because his subtle scoff makes your back to arch unconsciously, your pupils to dilate and your core to throb.

“Very well, (Name). I’m glad you are committed to what you truly enjoy. I hate to force certain genres into some students, but you are a delight. Being your professor is very stimulating” he says, barely whispering.

His voice gets lower and raspier the more he speaks to you, but what makes you shiver are those words… he poetically chose to show how much he desires you. You are sure about it.

“The pleasure is mine, professor Aizen. I will hate the day these classes are over” you whisper, biting your lower lip immediately after. You unconsciously press your books against your chest, as if you were searching for some kind of relief; some kind of desperate touch.

Aizen grabs his suitcase and fixes his glasses. His hand, once again, brushes his hair back. “Let’s go and search for a good book at the library then” he orders.

You nod, pressing your books harder against your breasts to the point your nipples can feel it. And Aizen can clearly notice it. He very well knows about the effect he has on young students like you.

You follow him, the halls are already pretty empty. The last class is always the one the students will leave faster. Many hurry to get to their late-night jobs in time, others because are simply tired and want to go back to their rooms to sleep.

But definitely none of them would like to visit the library on a Friday night after a whole week of tiring classes… anyone but you…

The subtly white lights of each table barely illuminates the space. It’s as empty as you expected, and frankly not even the librarian seems to be at the counter during those hours.

“Ah… seems empty. What a pity, I wish more students would enjoy reading like you, (Name)… Do you know where erotica books are?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

Truth is, that you do know. You aren’t only a passive enjoyer of erotic literature; you even indulge on writing and posting it online… With a simple nod you take the lead. Aizen follows you, and you can sense his eyes tracing a path from your neck to the small of your back with his eyes. Or maybe that’s just what you wish he was doing… Indulging in your imagination is something you usually do, and it is as wrong, as tempting.

When you get to the little section of plus eighteen books you show them to your professor shily pointing at them.

He scoffs, sexily. “I will read the same you pick for the assignment” he says, leaving the suitcase on the little table near the bookcase. Aizen enjoys the way your fingertips run through the spines of each book. Until one catches your attention.

“Have you read Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, Aizen sensei?” you ask, pretty sure he did but still curious.

“Interest choice, (Name). I will read it” he murmurs, with a smirk that leaves you breathless.

You nod, picking the only copy available. You hand the book to him, grazing so softly his fingers. He inspects the cover page; he is making you so anxious and you have no idea why… what are you waiting for him to do?

“(Name), why did you pick this one? Is it because you wanna go deep into the moral aspects? Or because you enjoy immorality?” he asks, scanning the pages quickly.

You feel your heart about to jump from your chest, your breathing shortening. “I- uhh… I-“ you stutter, you aren’t really sure why you exactly chose such polemic novel.

And if oxygen wasn’t going inside you, it finally stops flowing completely to your lungs when his hand reach for your cheek as he bends forward to you. His thumb grazes your lip with such delicacy but so erotically that you can feel your knees failing to keep you standing.

“Do you find their age gap enticing? Or maybe the new experiences Lolita wants to try with Professor Hubert?” he asks, pushing his thumb in between your lips.

You blink slowly, letting his finger touch the tip of your tongue. Even such little touch tastes delicious, just as you imagined. Truth is, that you worship Aizen sensei as if he was a god. The god and guardian of your libidinous dreams.

“I… the- age…” you stutter, as he takes his glasses off with his free hand. He throws his head back just a little, and the sharpness of his mandible presents in front of you. You feel like an animal whose been deprived from food for so long… you just wanna jump and bite, and lick, and smell his neck… where this all has came from? You haven’t even touched a man in your life before, even at your age at which many of your friends already had immeasurable experience.

Aizen puts the glasses on top of the desk, slowly pushing you with his chest to it too. Your ass hits the table, your hands grab tightly to the edges of it. Nails carved in that old wood, toes curling inside your shoes. You can only feel surrounded by Aizen topping presence, and the subtle scent of his masculine fragrance.

You look up at him with puppy eyes that make him madly attracted to your innocence. “Tell me something, (Name)… all of those books have taught you well?” he asks, acknowledging your virginity so accurately.

You are amazed at how fast he was able to tell you haven’t ever tried the honeys of sex, and you can’t help but blindly wish he would be your first. Oh… and he will, darling.

He reaches for your thighs, sitting you over the table. “Were those books enough, or you wish for me to teach you?” he whispers, taking his lips closer to yours.

You let him approach you more and more, almost at the verge of fainting. You have waited for so long, just to let a man like him to take you. You feel dizzy, lightheaded. You can tell even your lips are throbbing, the blood pumping from your heart getting with strength at every inch of your body.

“I wish for Aizen sensei to teach me, please ~” you murmur, feeling the soft graze of his lips against yours. Drunken with pleasure, and slightly jolting when his hot palm lands on your thigh. And it goes up, under your skirt… so indecently searching for something he is sure he will find in the centre of your femininity… arousal pooling just because and for him.

“Heh… let’s focus this first lesson on your senses… shall we?” he orders, covering your eyes with his palm while his lips struck yours and his tongue mercilessly violates your mouth.

You gasp, receiving his indecent intrusion. You do as he tells; focus on your senses… The touch of his wet tongue against yours, flowing so organically one with the other. The taste of his mouth that’s so delicious. The scent of his perfume, musky, and masculine. The sound of a kiss so full of lust, reverberating with soft moans coming from you and low grunts coming from him.

The hand that’s been traveling up your leg finally finds the wet spot he has been wanting to reach. “So wet already… were you waiting for this, (Name)? Aren’t you a little bit corrupted?” he jokes, as if he wasn’t corrupt enough for taking you right there in such public spot at his work place.

“I… it’s because it’s you… professor Aizen ~” you purr, allowing your arms to rest on his shoulders.

He beams with sloppy eyelids, looking at you from the side with his fingers already in between your panties and sex. “Because of me? Are those stories you write inspired on me, (Name)?” he asks, showing you how much of a stalker he had been of your social media.

“Ai… Aizen sensei! You read my stories?” you ask, widening your eyes and soon spasming from his fingers penetrating your entrance. You bite your lips, pressing your forehead to his with subtle moans that you try to muffle.

He slowly goes in and out, trying the stretching capability of your walls. Sosuke is so pleased to find you are so pretty tight even to his fingers and he can only fantasize on how well his dick will feel once he is inside you.

“Of course, sweetheart. I told you; you are a delight of a pupil… that’s why you are so stimulating to me” he mumbles, whispering in your ear. “Will you write about this one experience, too? Let me help you with that too, please”

You tremble, your nails carve marks on the table as he alternates fingering and circles around your erected clit. You feel like losing control, like something unstoppable being unleashed inside you. And Aizen enjoys lifting your legs up to make you a lot more dilated than before.

He makes sure there is nobody around and proceeds to lower the zipper of his black formal pants. “Do you want me to teach you what it feels to have a man inside you, (Name)?” he asks, before doing anything else. Apparently he is still a gentleman despite the age difference, and the perverted idea of a professor fucking his student.

You nod biting your lower lip, still panting because of his unstoppable finger torture. “P-pwease, Aizen sensei… take me… teach me… be my first…” you whine, with eyes semi open, watching his perverse stare in between your almost touching eyelashes.

“That’s a very good girl… please, spread those beautiful legs for your sensei then”

You can feel how his hardness touches your entrance but doesn’t enter still. With your panties barely pushed to the side, it’s enough for your fluids to mix in one slippery cocktail of lust.

“I will be gentle with you, ok? I promise it won’t hurt” he whispers, kissing your cheek. Not only he is teaching you, but he pretends to take a caretaker role… because he knows he can. Because he knows he doubles your age, and because he knows you want it so bad. The upstanding professor Sosuke Aizen ended up being such a depraved man, after all…

“Yeah… yes thank you, Professor Aizen ~”

He attacks your lips once more, while one of his hands slowly massages one of your breasts over your blouse and the other one slowly reaches for the small of your back.

Sosuke slowly pulls you towards him, and you can feel the tip of his sex barely making some pressure on your labia. Is not yet enough to go inside, but the unhurried torture of the unknown feeling of having him inside is killing you…and you aren’t scared, the thing is that you can’t wait no more… you are dying to feel full of him, to give your precious treasure to him.

“I… please…” you plead, ripping a sexy laugh from him with his lips pressed against yours.

“You can’t wait no more, right? You want it badly, sweetheart? We should take it slow, I wanna enjoy making you a woman!” he taunts you, playing with your need, rejoicing in the chills and bumps of your skin the more he waits to make you his.

You cross your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Perhaps you aren’t doing this on purpose, and it’s just instinct and need. And Aizen knows it very well, you are ready for defloration…

“Don’t scream, bite my shoulder” he commands, pushing delicately your head towards his neck. He caresses your hair, and you can feel how he slowly opens his way inside your entrance. First, resting a few seconds right at the start of your sex and the slowly sliding himself inside.

You feel your walls stretching and soft inside “pop”. A pleasant pain that soon changes from a slight burn to an explosion of pleasure. And your teeth carved in his shoulder with a muzzled moan that will accompany Aizen’s memories forever.

“Ngh.. you are doing so good… you have no idea how good you feel around me… your virginal tightness” he grunts under his breath as his hips die to move faster.

“Am I, Aizen-sensei?” you ask, with incipient tears pooling on your eyes. It feels like heaven to be penetrated by him, to hear his soft moans of pleasure, his grunts as you expertly milk him with your walls.

He grunts, hallucinated by the way you suck him in with nothing but your spasming core. “Why- you… you where did you learn to do that? I… stop-” he frowns and tightens his jaw. He is clearly suffering, because he wants to last but it looks like he won’t be able to do so.  

You giggle… “from the novels I read, Professor Aizen ~”

Aizen swallows; he has stopped hugging you and now his hand slaps the table right next to your left hip. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you? You wanna be full of my cum, little depraved one?” he asks, seriously, stopping the thrusts just to make sure you know where you got yourself into.

“Fill me up, Aizen Sosuke…” you purr into his ear, biting his earlobe after.

ㅤㅤ“Gladly, sweetheart… please, keep it all inside for me”

[bio1]

Hey everyone, finally finished part two of my transformers Earthspark horror themed fanfic.

If you haven't read act 1, please check out this link.

One last thing, thank you so much for @billie-jay for helping writing and editing of this story. Couldn't have done it without them.

Now let's begin.

Warning: this story contains body horror, blood, and descriptions of graphic violence.

Act 2: rotten to the core

The Terran siblings' optics were the only source of light in the now otherwise pitch black dugout. After the dreadful clicking of the lights switching off, the room was now eerily quiet once again.

“We didn't kill it.” Nightshade finally broke the silence, stating the obvious.

"No, you didn't."

A voice replied, taunting the young bot. Well, perhaps calling it a voice would be too generous. Whatever responded spoke in a manner similar to rusted nails scratching at granite. Its pitch and tone managed to fluctuate in a manner that just barely could be recognizable as words. It was a sound that shouldn't be possible, as if scrap metal could somehow speak. It went beyond uncanny. Hearing something that otherworldly felt downright violating.

What clever children you are, deducing my traits so quickly.

Most don't last long enough to find out that.

Whatever monitors still remained attached flickered on, although they broadcasted nothing but static. When their adversary spoke again, the static shifted in time with its voice.

"My, such a colorful collection. So bright and shiny, sturdy with youthful vigor. Small you might be, but your remains will a part of something far bigger than you could ever dream."

Twitch, with all her remaining energy, was not having any of this cryptic nonsense. She stormed up to the monitors and put her face meter inches from the screen in a confrontational manner.

“Get away from my family, NOW!” She boomed, slamming her foot onto the concrete floor.

The dying power on the monitor only showed one thing, the white enormous eye of their torturer.

"Oh my child, it's far too late for that."

Twitch stepped back, trying her absolute best now to show how terrified she truly was. Too late for what?! What was this thing implying?

“You're bluffing! You haven't gotten to them yet!” Nightshade answered back for her. “Now how about you save us all time and tell us what you want!”

Twitch wasn't sure what her sibling was getting at. Did they want to give into this thing's demands? And how could they know that their family hadn't been harmed yet?

"If you're already awake, I thought we might as well have a little fun."

It was pretty obvious the creature was trying to be creepy, but neither of them knew whether or not it fully understood the context of what it just implied.

The dugout was completely silent and nearly pitch black, the abyss around them only just illuminated from both of the bots glowing optics.

“Nightshade! What do we do?! Our family is out there with that… that thing! I don't even know which way the exit is anymore, it's too dark…”

“There’s no reason for alarm, the dugout has a backup generator in the barn.” Nightshade tried their absolute best to remain calm for her, despite the gravity of the situation weighing on their mind as well.

“I'll go check on everyone in the house. In the meanwhile, you can start up the generator.”

“Wait, shouldn't that be the other way around? I can actually fit in the house, and you would know how the generator works.”

“Because I can grab everyone in one trip. It would take too long for you to back and forth. Plus, turning it on is rather simple.”

“Nightshade, I've seen the things you make, and none of it is simple.”

“It's literally just a red button labeled ‘generator’.”

“Nevermind, I should be able to handle that.”

Both of the bots carefully exited the dugout. With neither spotting the monster, Nightshade and Twitch split up, their goals both in sight.

Twitch approached the generator, optics darting around herself in paranoia.

“It's okay, Twitch. Just a few more steps.” The red mech assured herself, voice still shaky.

She stood in front of the machine, just barely out of arms’ reach. A chill ran down her metallic spine. Thoughts of what occurred earlier in the night ran through her mind. She kept imagining that if she pushed the button, something would come to remove her head from her shoulders.

“Twitch! HURRY!”

The loud voice booming from the doorway startled the poor bot. It was Nightshade, already back with their human family in tow. They were peacefully sleeping, blissfully unaware of the danger around them. Nightshade dashed into the bunker, leaving Twitch to finish their task.

With a deep sigh, she pushed the red button, the lights around her flickering on. Twitch turned back to join their sibling before stopping dead in her tracks. Something was pushing itself through a gap in the barn wall. A black, pulsating mass with gray armor grew larger as more of its amorphous form forced its way into the room. Five huge tendrils sprouted from a centered metal lump. It almost looked like…

“A hand.” She breathed, the terrifying realization overcoming her.

A monster hand, almost bigger than her entire body.

She drew out her swords as the hand flexed its grotesque fingers.

The monster, noticing her presence, immediately lunged at her. She barely had enough time to dodge or before the gnarled fingers could ensnare her. The hand instead grabbed hold of a solid wooden support beam directly behind her. Smaller tendrils unwind themselves from the fingers joints, constricting the beam completely until the pressure caused it to cave in. An entire, solid cylinder of wood, crushed by a single movement into dust. The hand, realizing it has missed it's intended target, reared around with gelatinous eyes protruding from its finger joints, searching for Twitch.

"Hold still !"

“How about no!” She yelled before jabbing her blade into its wrist. The palm of the hand writhed in pain, fingers bending backwards as it struggled to pull the foreign object out. The wrist was almost jammed like a metal rod between two gears.

Twitch grabbed the handle of the embedded sword and twisted it clockwise, separating the hand from its wrist. A spray of oily fluid landed on her optics, muddling her vision. The hand writhed in pain for a moment, finally curling up on itself.

A distant sound of pain could be heard, but Twitch felt like she had no time to celebrate as she went to join her family. The young bot slammed the vault door shut as soon as she made it to the bunker, not wanting to take any more chances. Nightshade has laid the siblings’ organic family into individual sleeping quarters.

“Twitch, are you alright?” Nightshade asked, concerned. Their sibling’s face was drenched in the black, oily blood of their adversary.

“Yeah, I just had my hands full.” she responded confidently. Though her words had the cadence of a joke, Nightshade didn't seem to pick up on it.

“Seriously, what happened?” They prodded further.

“That monster tried to crush me. Sort of like this.” Twitch crushed one of the emptied energy drink cans as a demonstration.

“But it doesn't know who they're messing with, and I manage to cut their hand off.” She smiled proudly, but residual unease from the near death encounter still hung to her tone. This bravado was an attempt to force her mood to improve, and it wasn't entirely working.

“Here, to wipe the oil off.” Nightshade handed her a large cloth.

“Oh, thanks.” She cleaned her face up, before looking down at the now dirtied rag. “Wait, isn't this Robbie's shirt?”

“Yes. I borrowed some spare clothing from all of the family and store it here, in case of emergencies.”

“Borrowed? He told me he couldn't find this shirt for months….” She held out the soaked t-shirt in front of her, rancid oily blood dripping off it onto the floor.

“Emergency preparedness is more important than a diverse wardrobe.” Nightshade took the soiled garment and threw it into a basket. “That'll come off in the laundry. Probably.”

In the corner of Nightshade’s sensitive optics, they picked up some movement on the now activated surviving monitor. The pair raced over to see what it was. Out of the darkness of the forest above, something jumped into fame! The figure startled Nightshade badly enough that they fell to the floor. After recovering from the near spark attack herself, Twitch realized what it was.

“Oh, it's just a deer.” She gave a sigh of relief.

Nightshade got a good giggle from the pair of them getting so startled by a cute little buck. Twitch had mentioned she cut off the monster's hand, right? Surely, it wasn't coming back…

Gazing back at the screen, something reached out and snatched the poor animal. Their monitor’s audio played a sickening crack the moment after. It was the unmistakable noise of snapping bone.

The culprit emerged from the woods, towering above even the tallest of trees. In one gnarled hand, it carried the limp body of the deer, whose neck.was now bent at an unnatural angle, clearly dead.

The other hand was missing, leaving a stub of black tentrals.

It was clear this wasn't some kind of wooden monster they had thought of earlier. This was far worse.

This monster appeared to be wearing the outer armor of a Cybertronian, held together by mangled tendrils and rusted metal sheets. Its abdomen, neck, and joints were made of thick, wiry tentacles twisted together like ropes of licorice. Long, clawed fingers clutched onto the rag doll deer. Its face, seemingly normal at first glance, appeared to have enormous spotlights for optics, surrounded by deep black rings. It was as if it had carved holes in whatever unfortunate mech’s face it was using to fit its massive eyes.

The abomination was mostly gray, with any remaining colors on its shell muted and drained. It reminded Nightshade when they learned from Bumblebee that when a Cybertronian dies as a result of having their spark extinguished, theus body will lose its color. All that's left behind is a gray, empty shell.

The monster lifted the deer so that it was held directly in front of its ghastly face. Instead of simply opening its mouth, it split its own jaw completely in half. Row upon row of sharp yellowed greeted their prey, before sinking into the buck’s head. It antlers sloughed off and fell to the forest floor. The poor deer's head barely gave any resistance to the creature’s bite, getting chomped away easily as a stalk of celery.

Twitch immediately felt sick, the urge to vomit filling her despite not even having a stomach.

Nightshade starred, wide-eyed with morbid curiosity, unawall to tear away their gaze.

With one of its clawed fingers, it easily gutted and flayed the remainder of the deer with the precision of a surgeon. It swallowed each limb whole, not even stopping to back a breather between each bite. The deer's torso was impaled on the tallest tree around, seemingly leaving it for later.

Full enough for now, the metallic corpse leaned over, resting its damaged arm on the forest floor. Slowly but surely, the severed tendrils twisted and grew, sprouting forward from the site of the injury. Soon enough, it had a brand new hand, identical to the original.

All of the damage the siblings had inflicted on the creature was undone in a moment.

“This isn't happening…” Twitch’s voice was barely a whisper, her entire body fighting back the urge to retch.

"A Valiant attempt, little one, But not good enough."

The creature's unnatural voice made the static on the monitor worse as it spoke. How it had heard her from so far away was a complete mystery.

The thing bent forward to show its back, smaller tendrils poking out of the monster's armor. They wriggled and writhed, pulling themselves from the beast's back. Falling out from the cracks in the metal, two smaller creatures collided on the ground before standing up. They superficially resembled Cybertronian protoforms, but were differentiated by the claws and soulless eyes of the original monster.

"Go get me the green one. The red one is yours… consider it a treat."

It pointed towards the camera at the base of the tree. The pawn-like monsters listened, immediately making their way towards the barn.

"I'll be seeing you shortly, Maltos."

It bowed at the camera, before walking backwards out of site, into the woods.

“We are sooooo screwed.” Twitch mumbled, once the whole ordeal had concluded. “How did it find that tiny little camera? And when did it learn our family's name?”

“Don't worry, we, um…” Nightshade’s usually calm demeanor was shaking, the panic getting to them as well. … ‘“We should be safe here.” They placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, metal clicking as they touched. Twitch immediately swatted their hand away, turning in place to face them.

“Safe?” Her optics went wide, sparking with a furocity Nightshade had only seen a few times before. “Safe?! You just saw that thing make more of itself, Nightshade! We are anything BUT safe right now!”

They knew she was right, and that their reassurance was an empty gesture she had easily seen through.

“I’m sick of this.”

She drew out both of her swords.

Nightshade looked visibly shaken from Twitch's outburst, justified as it might be. If they could cry, they would be tearing up.

“Twitch, I-”

Twitch cut them off again.

“I'm going out there to defend what I love!”

Even though Twitch was running off fumes, she would fight an army if it meant keeping their family safe.

Nightshade rubs their optics before putting a hand on her shoulder once again.

“Not by yourself. I'm coming with you.” Nightshade informed her with an uncharacteristically stirred tone.

“You need to stay here, with them.” She pleaded. “I've got more training than you. I can handle this.”

“With all due respect, there isn't a chance you'd survive going head to head alone with our advisory here. I doubt even Optimus could take that monster down by himself. I get why you want to stay back, but we won't be of any use without each other.” They leaned in, giving Twitch a big bear hug.

“We're doing this together,” said Nightshade.

After a moment of hesitation, Twitch nodded firmly.

“Together.” she replied, hugging them back.

They made sure everything was secured before drinking what was left of the energy drinks in hopes of staving off the creature's parasitic exhaustion. Venturing out of the dugout, they double checked to guarantee the door was locked behind them.

The bots stuck close by to one another, Twitch leading slightly ahead. Just as Nightshade got an arm's length away from their sister, something jumped on their shoulders and wrapped its arms around their neck.

It was one of the odd gray things that the creature had produced. The thing was about Twitch’s size, only barely taller than the average human. Nightshade was able to pull their assailant off them, slamming it against the dirt.

Cracks formed on the monster's armor, its left leg was bent in the opposite direction.

This seemingly didn't slow it down, however, as with a high pitch grunt it snapped its leg back in place before charging at the green mech.

“NIGHTSHADE! Go high, I'm going low!” Twitch changed her hand into a blaster before taking aim and firing. The laser shot hit the monster's bad leg, blasting it off from the knee down.

As it stumbled, Nightshade talons struck against its face. This almost completely destroyed one of its eyes, leaving a deep gash. They knock it back with a powerful upcut to its jaw, sending half of its pointy teeth into the air.

As it fell backwards, Twitch raised one of her blades. She sent an aggressive slash on its shoulder. The sword moves in a round arc, cutting its torso in two like a knife through warm butter.

Both halves of the body fell down. Horrifically, even though all the monstrosity had left was a single arm, it continued to drag itself towards them. The thing seems either unaware or unbothered by the fact that its insides were being scrapped across the ground as it moved.

Nightshade backed up a good distance from their pursuer before running back at it, full sprint. With one solid kick, they sent its head flying over the house.

“Goal!” Nightshade cheered, twisting around to check on Twitch. Their little joke seemed to have worked at lightening some of the tension, and she smiled back at him widely. “That was awesome, Nightshade!”

As the small monster's corpse finally fell still, the siblings celebrated by high-fiving each other.

Their victory was short-lived, however, as an enormous hand rapidly grabbed Twitch from around the house. Nightshade ran after it, coming to stand in front of the Goliath.

“Let me go!” Twitch remanded, taking a shot at the thing’s chest, leaving nothing but a small burn mark. It retaliated by squeezing her tighter. With its other hand, it picked up her swords before tossing them away into the woods.

“You! After all this… chaos! What more do you want?” Nightshade yelled as loud as their vocal processor would allow.

The creature flexed its long neck towards the ground, gargantuan eyes boring holes into Nightshade's very being.

"It appears your human masters didn't raise you with any manners, child. But for future reference, it's not considered polite to ask such questions before being given a proper introduction."

It gave a devilish, cocky smirk. A sickeningly smug expression from a creature who had known it had already won. It was just toying with its prey now, watching them squirm and suffer for its own amusement.

"You may call me exquisite corpse. I've seen how smart you are, I assume you can guess how I earned such a title."

Nightshade wasn't even sure how to respond. This thing's manner of speech was infuriatingly civilized, clearly in an attempt to further provoke them.

"As for your question, I am after you in particular, little owl."

“Me?!” They blurted in response. “And what makes you think I'm going to go along with this?” Nightshade challenged, trying not to let their confusion and fear show.

The haughty grin on Exquisite Corpse’s face never faltered.

"Oh, I suspected resistance from you, child. There's a good reason I made my powers known to you from the start."

It leaned in even closer, its massive face just inches from Nightshade. Bits of blood and refuge from the deer it had previously consumed clung to its metal fangs.

"You know what I'm capable of. You know what I could do to not only her..."

It shook Twitch around in its hand, causing the red bot to yelp in shock and discomfort.

"...But to your entire clan if I wanted. So now that you're aware what's at stake, I don't think you'll put up any more struggle when I tell you to come with me."

“Don't even think about it, Nightshade!” Twitch barked.

"I didn't say you could talk, fly!"

It screeched, pressing its claws against her even further. Twitch's body creaked as she tried not to scream from the pain. It was clear that if Exquisite Corpse's grip got any tighter, those claws would rip right through her.

“Stop!” Nightshade begged. “Please, just put her down…”

"Oh, I'll do a lot more than that. Do as I say, and your entire family will get left out of this unfortunate little affair. "

It leaned its empty hand in front of the bot.

"How does that sound, owl?"

The lights in Nightshade's optics streaked, making their vision go blurry. Tensing up, they reluctantly grabbed a finger of the giant hand back, shaking it.

“I accept your terms.” they solemnly said, biting their lip in anguish.

"I knew you were smart. Very good."

It tossed Twitch to the ground, the minion pawns standing behind her with baited breath, held back only by their obedience to their master like a dog on a leash.

Exquisite Corpse gently picked up the owl, exhaling a deep purplish smoke in their face. Nightshade immediately felt more tired than they ever had in their life. As their body went limp for exhaustion, they heard one final exchange from the monster to its servants.

"She's all yours."

As they walked off towards the woods, the last thing Nightshade could process was Twitch's, violently screaming out for their sibling to help her.

To the continued…

[valentinesdaydate98]

The Phantomhive Butler 3.5

Word count: 697

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

“Sebastian, care to explain why Charlotte has the dreaded Faustian mark on her hand?”

Oh, how Charlotte messed up!

Ciel was furious when he accidentally entered Charlotte’s room and saw her ungloved hand. So, he called a private meeting with Charlotte and Sebastian in his office. But instead of answering Ciel’s questions, Sebastian remained quiet and displayed a smirking smile. “Or perhaps you can explain the mark, Charlotte? Is that why you started wearing gloves?” Ciel asked with a smile on his face as he held Charlotte’s hand. He figured if he put on a nice persona, she’d reveal her explanation. However, Charlotte recognized the inauthenticity behind his expression. Ciel’s eyes burn with anger as he struggles to contain his frustration. She could sense the intense anger radiating from Ciel, directed more at her than at Sebastian. However, Ciel’s eyes concealed pain.

Charlotte felt disappointed in herself. She made a promise to Ciel to never be intimate with Sebastian, yet she broke it. It has been almost a month since Charlotte made the contract, and it has changed her. For one thing, she seemed more cheerful. No longer was her face covered in her salty tears, nor was her mouth formed into a frown. The pale skin that once resembled a vampire now has a shiny, bright glow. The usual banter between her and Sebastian was going strong and made her fall more in love with him.

“Ciel, please, you see…”

“I’m not in the mood for my time to be wasted. Do speak clearly and get to the point,” Ciel snapped.

His comment startled Charlotte. She often endured his rudeness, understanding that his youth and trauma were contributing factors. Whether it was intentional or unintentional, she would move on from his moments. However, something within her snapped, as well.

Charlotte slammed her hands onto his desk, frightening Ciel.

“Ciel, would it be alright if we talk privately? I’m sure you’ll find the answers you need if it’s just the two of us,” Charlotte said as she held back her tears.

“My ladyship?” Sebastian called to her as he approached closer to Charlotte.

“I’ll be fine, Sebastian. Please don’t trouble yourself. I need to speak with Ciel for a moment. Why don’t you turn to your chores for now?” Charlotte asked.

Sebastian hesitated, torn between his duty as a butler and the distress of leaving his ladyship in tears. Lucky for him, Ciel decided what Sebastian would do.

“It’s fine, Sebastian. I will call you once we have finished our conversation. I will need to talk to you as well. In the meantime, I am dismissing you,” Ciel said.

“As you wish, my lord. I won’t be too far from your office,” Sebastian said, but not before he winked at Charlotte, flustering the poor dear.

After Sebastian left, both remained silent. Both were desperate to say something about the incident. Both wanted to shout their frustrations at each other. However, nothing occurred until Charlotte timidly mumbled something. “I’m sorry, Ciel.”

“Apologizing for what exactly?” Ciel asked.

“For everything, I suppose. I broke my promise, I lied to you, I made a contract with Sebastian,” she stuttered as she remained strong enough to not let her voice crack and let her tears run down her cheeks. “I hurt you, didn’t I? I saw your face when you came into my room. It’s the same expression you made when a storm frightened you,” Charlotte said.

“What are you going on about?” Ciel asked as his cheeks blushed a soft pink rose color.

“Remember that time you visited for my seventeenth birthday and it was storming out? You were around five. You made the same expression as if you’d seen a tremendous storm when you saw my mark,” Charlotte explained.

“Charlotte, you didn’t upset me with your broken promise. People break them all the time. I’m used to it,” Ciel explained before he sighed. “The problem is that you made a contract with Sebastian. You’re in danger now. Honestly, why did you do it?” He said.

“Simple, Sebastian stitched my heart before it could break fully.” She explained with a gentle smile.

“I beg your pardon?” Ciel asked with disgust.