#their skin was fuschia- *fuschia*

[froms8nsashes]

Joey hid behind her, looking around at the seadweller club the humans disguised as trolls found themselves in for jeevik week. The venue seemed to change just as they had gotten used to Cridea's hive party and were mingling with some trolls with Xefros' help. Of course, everyone's favorite friendly clown Marvus made sure that they weren't getting in trouble at the party, mostly he just wanted to look out for his lowblood friends.

Jeevik week day 2 had brought them to a club, Finz, located somewhere in the seadweller district. Everything was so fancy. Sometimes there were things made from solid gold. Cridea had handed them a bunch of cash before she disappeared into the partying crowd, apparently the dollars marked high were the only thing worth trading. Xefros was more anxious about the hundred bills, making Joey take them because she was so laid back about it.

"Omg! Cridea told me about You guYs! Love the horns bY the waY, theY reallY are blending in prettY well!"

"What! These- These aren't fake!" Xefros' eyes widened. He looked petrified.

"Dont worrY! Trust me when I saY this, no one cares. At least not here, people care about paryting and the music. It's not like in Outglut where You have to worrY about the heiress bombing us." She looked so laidback.

Isabel stole a look around the room noticing how all trolls from the hemospectrum mingled with one another. No one was terrified, no one was scared. It was convival.

"Even if someone causes a problem, we have some people to deal with." She giggled and put her hand on Xefros' shoulder. "MY matesprit is prettY strong." She nodded at the bar behind them. "Oh, You can call me Zilvie bY the waY. I'm a co-owner of this fine establishment,"

"Oh! I'm Joey, and this is Xefros, and my friend Isabel!"

"I... Still don't understand half of the things happening around us right now," Isabel whispered to Xefros, idly playing with the ends of her pink hair.

"Wait, co-owner? Does that mean the heiress owns this too?" Xefros asked.

"No, sillY! MY moirail and I own this place together, our whole deal was to create a place where people could mingle and feel safe,"

"Wow, that's not what I expected..."

"Wait, what did you expect?" Isabel looked around at all the grey-skinned trolls with candy corn colored horns. "Was something supposed to happen? Is this where we actually die?"

"Well... No one really knows what seadweller's are like, violet and fuschia kind of stick to their own crowd." Xefros was sweating and fidgeting alot, glancing at Zilvie every one in a while. Was he expecting her to cull him?

"The culture is fairlY different between the lower bloods on the spectrum, let's be honest." She chuckled. "AnYwaY! I hope You enjoY the partY," As quickly as she appeared from the crowd she had disappeared into the crowd again, although she was taller than most trolls she still blended into the sea of colors. With no idea where Cridea went Xefros and Joey looked a little lost. The trio were standing there, just standing without doing anything else.

"hey, wazz up lil rusties"

"Marvus!" Joey's face lit up and she relaxed.

"(oh no we're going to die)" Xefros whispered to Isabel.

"I ain't gon cull u wym" Marvus chuckled and ruffled his hair, towering over the three of them. "I saw u three bored so I figured I'd say hi lol :o)"

"It's just a little overwhelming is all, I mean, all these... trolls everywhere."

"Crowds get a lil easier more u be with 'em" Marvus shrugged. "Don't worry tho I could get you some seats" It surprised Isabel when he flashed finger guns and then waved for them to follow him.

For a juggalo and a purpleblood Marvus was the kindest they've encountered so far, even if he let Chahut hold Xefros and Isabel while Joey played his murder game. He was still very kind and very forgiving. The larger than life troll had sauntered over to table quite literally in the middle of the club. It was situated to face the stage where some lowblood seemed to be performing.

At further inspection there was someone sitting at the table. Another troll-- obviously cause why wouldn't they be a troll-- with violet colored hair. Their horns leaned toward another with a piercing connecting them at the pointed end. Red sunglasses covered their eyes and headphones hung around their neck. They wore a black hoodie over a dark violet turtle neck. Like the rest of the trolls there was a violet-colored symbol smack dab in the middle of their hoodie.

"/\Mmarvus I told you I'mm busy with sommethinng here./\" The troll didn't look up, just typing away on their husktop.

"yea I kno" The clown sat down and his eyes flickered to Xefros, Isabel, and Joey. "jo an her friends need somewhere to sit an this is the only open table"

"Oh, hey, that's the guy with the eye patch thingy up there." Isabel pointed at the mustard blooded troll. "What was their name..."

"Cirava." Xefros answered all too quickly, following suit as Joey sat down with the violet-blooded troll.

"So, I'm Joey and this is-- "

"/\Yea yea. I donn't have timme for mminnglinng./\"

"So, you're like some fish DJ?" Isabel asked.

Marvus' still looked pretty laidback but she noticed he tensed up a bit, looking the other way rather quickly. Xefros also looked like he was silently panicking, but he always was silently panicking.

"/\I amm nnot just a *fish DJ* actually callinng mme a fish is also derogatory./\"

"Well, aren't you a fish? I mean you have the webbed ears and I can see the gills poking out of the turtle neck." Isabel looked at Marvus and Xefros for a second, confused, then turned back to the other troll.

When the troll finally looked up they sported angel bite piercings and some pretty prominent fangs. The light of the husktop glinted on the red shades occluding their eyes from view. It was impossible to tell their reaction, mostly because the shades also covered part of their eyebrow. They really were too big.

"/\Get inn linne if you wannt to fill out mmy black quadrannt./\"

"I'm sorry what- "

"(I Xplained this to you on the train)" Xefros mumbled.

"Yeah, okay? I still don't get it." She said offhandedly to her companion. "There's no need to get worked up over some stupid nickname, you are literally a fish."

"/\Say that onne mmore timme.../\"

"Ok ok I kno things be getting rough especially bcause of the high energy but y don't u take it down a notch Chekrit"

And just like that Marvus was somehow able to smooth things over.

"Cehkrit? Like Cehkrit Fiahes?" Xefros' eyes lit up. "The faceless DJ that has been blowing up all over grubtube?"

"/\Yeah I'mm your faceless DJ kid./\"

"I didn't know trolls could have DJ's." Joey tilted her head. "Guess our planets really are similar,"

"Are you two moirails? You seem to listen to Marvus a lot." Joey asked.

"/\What nno mme annd Mmarvus are nnot mmoirails. Zilvie is mmy mmoirails./\"

"So then- "

"Joey! You can't just ask that!" Xefros threw a hand over her mouth quickly."

"/\I donn't have the ennergy to fill my red quadrannt or anny of mmy quadrannts at the mmommennt./\"

"I don't believe you at all, if you didn't have the energy then why- "

"I'm so sorry about her! Joey, let's go get something to drink!" Isabel moved so that Xefros and Joey could scoot out of the booth. She laughed at how protective he was being because she swore he said something about how cerulean's get protective of the people in their quadrants. Maybe that was all trolls?

"/\For ann alienn you still have a lot to learnn./\" Chekrit was back looking at his husktop.

"Wait, you two know I'm- "

"It's p obvious yo ur skin ain't gray" Marvus added a honk, leaning back on the side of the booth he took over completely.

"/\You also have traffic connes onn your head. I donn't knnow how people took that seriously./\"

"Do you get out, even a little? That is not how you talk to people."

"/\. Seadweller's are seperated fromm the the land-dweller's. Annd there is nno way I would talk to annother violet blood. All they wannt to talk about is cullinng./\"

"Why are you seperated?"

"Cuz we all b seperated" Marvus answered.

"Then how do you visit each other?"

"/\That's... *commplicated.*/\"

"I still don't get it,"

"/\You donn't get a lot of thinngs./\" Chekrit looked like he was rolling his eyes.

"hey play nice"

"/\This is starting to feel like ann ashenn quadrannt./\"

"Mayb it is mayb not"

"/\Sommetimmes I hate how laid back you are./\" Chekrit lowered the husktop screen but didn't fully close it. "/\You both are pitifully innfuriatinng but I also like it. Are you suggetinng ann ashenn quadrant./\"

"A what?" Isabel looked between the two trolls curiously. "What is going on right now? Am I being courted by the two of you or- "

"/\Technnically yes. I tennd to like the innsufferable onnes./\"

"Insufferable?!"

"/\What's this. What's that. Pick up a book. Clearly you havenn't./\" Was Cehkrit smiling?

"I don't mind the hate flirting but those lil rusties might" Marvus just sat there watching them like it was a show, or was he waiting to jump in when it got too intense?

Understanding quadrants and the way of relationships on Alternia was hard. It was weird. Most of all, where the hell do pails come in with all of this?

"Hate flirting? This isn't- What?!" Her face went red and she hid it in her shirt collar.

"/\I cann sennd you a book about quadrannts if you're really that clueless./\" Cehkrit chuckled.

"It might go 2 jo"

"/\Eh I donn't thinnk I care right nnow. I figured I swore of quadrannts but I guess I was wronng./\"

"You're so unenthusiastic."

"/\Annd you read like ann openn book./\"

"hey hey no pailing on the table we eat here"

"Butt out Marvus!" / "/\Butt out Mmarvus./\"

"aight just trying to loosen tension" He couldn't hold in his laugh and there was a hint of a smile.

"/\I'll take it you donn't knnow auspustice./\"

"Wha- "

"/\The ashenn quadrannt inn which conntainns three people. Let's say you me and Mmarvus for exammple. Mmarvus mmakes sure we donn't actually cull each other, but sommetimmes cann joinn inn onn the hating./\"

"So basically just enemies to lovers with a polyamorous twist?"

"/\What to what with a what twist./\"

"I'm not going to explain it." Isabel chuckled awkwardly. "So basically we have hate sex and sometimes Marvus watches?"

"tf yo" Marvus rose a brow.

Clearly these two trolls wouldn't understand speech from Earth.

"Nevermind."

"/\So technnically we're datinng annd Mmarvus is like the wisdomm or advice personn./\"

"Oh, okay. That makes sense."

Joey and Xefros were sitting at the bar. The redblooded troll couldn't help but keep glancing over at the trio sitting by the stage. He was anxious. Wringing his hands together worriedly as he sipped on a water. Well, barely actually touched the water. Joey was waiting for him to say something first. Happily drinking her water. It tasted very fruity. Better than the tap water back home.

"I can't believe she didn't get culled."

"She is naturally charismatic," Joey giggled. "It make sense how she can make friends so quickly.

"I was getting the vibe that he wanted to form a quadrant with her."

"But didn't he say- "

"Sometimes trolls don't say what they mean."

"Which quadrant?"

"Auspustice."

"Doesn't that mean they hate each other?"

"No, well yes. It does. Like I said, all relationships are different. Our quadrant is not a one size fits all. X("

"So auspustice can be like polyamory?"

"What?"

"Dating multiple people."

"Maybe,"

[treesbian]

screaming sobbing and throwing up at the fact i probably shouldn't wear a black lip do a job interview

[donatellawritings]

୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca

rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.

so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.

the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.

rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.

smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.

remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.

cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.

taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.

your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.

deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.

furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.

“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.

with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.

you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.

bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.

your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.

shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.

poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.

“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.

letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”

“like a daddy?”

letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”

“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.

“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.

curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.

craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.

lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.

“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.

“i und-understand,” you breathe out.

bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part fifteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.7k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Pearly sunlight weaves through the trees, casting freckles across the calm current of the creak. Somewhere, a raven bleats loudly, but your ears block out the sound. The skin between your brows wrinkles with concentration as you tightly grip the wooden makeshift spear, its carved point hovering just above the water.

Numerous fish writhe below you, and your eyes dart between them studiously before finally settling on the meatiest one. With a quick stab, your spear pierces the water's surface, but all it hits is the mucky bottom of the creak. The fish startles with a splash and swims off downstream. 

"Fuck me," you huff, standing up from your squatting position on the rock to soothe the growing ache in your thighs.

Fishing shouldn't be much different than hunting, yet, it's been hours and all you have to show for it is a small chub the size of your palm. With a sigh, you decide your craving for fish isn't worth all this effort and leap off the rock, carrying your measly catch in one hand and spear in the other. Maybe the still waters of the pond could be an easier spot to try someday.

You chose the creak over the pond because it's a greater distance from camp. The longer walk allows you to fixate on the emerald green leaves fluttering in the breeze and the soft chatter of swallows that are returning after their winter migration. Everything is starting to turn into Blue's favorite color. For the first time, you departed the cabin without a jacket, opting for only the long-sleeve tee from Ghost. You had the sleeves rolled to your elbows while fishing, but as you trek back through the wild grasses, you push them down and allow the fabric to brush your knuckles. 

There are hardly any flowers left on the Pink Sorrel after all your foraging. It's a shame they taste so good because the petals are a beautiful fuschia. Arriving at camp, you amble over the plucked stems, bound across the trench with ease, and spot Blue on the other side of the gate offering Grim a wad of grass.

The moment you returned yesterday, she had asked how training with Ghost went. That was quick, she'd observed. Weasling past the rules of your friendship, you gave her a half-lie: He went easy on me this first time. She didn't seem fully convinced that Ghost and 'going easy' belonged in the same sentence together.

"Hey," you greet. "Open the gate for me?"

Grim is given a pet across his back before she leaps up to undo the locks. 

“Hey. How’d it go?” She looks at your near-empty hand. "Fucking noodles. That's it? I thought there were lots of fish there."

"There are. I just suck at catching them."

She gives you an apologetic smile. "Oh— Ghost was looking for you, by the way."

It takes you a moment to respond. "He was?"

"Not sure what for." Her brows furrow. "I'm also not sure where he went. He was here, and then—" Her blue eyes glimmer like water in the sunlight as they shift to something in the distance. "Oh, there he is."

The very person you'd spent hours of alone time trying not to think about arrives as a shadow, lugging what appears to be—you squint—a fucking corpse behind him. Upon closer inspection, it is certainly a body, and with how wonky the limbs look as they drag against the ground, it must be a Grey. That's a little more reassuring, and a lot less bothersome, than if it were a human corpse. 

He drops the corpse in front of the trench, rubs his gloved hands together, and then passes through the parted gate. 

"Is that what you wanted Twix for?" Blue asks, nodding to the Grey.

Ghost explains himself in an even more gruff baritone than usual. "Knew I smelled something." He speaks at you. "I wanted you to check south while I checked north."

"Oh. Sorry," you say lamely and hold up the small chub. "I was, uh, fishing. Looks like you found the source, though. Just one?"

He nods. "Only found one. Could be others so we'll keep an eye out."

"Why did you bring it here?" you ask curiously. 

Blue is the one to answer. "To burn it. Sometimes it seems like they attract each other, haven't you noticed?"

"Right," you grimace. "Blood and rot. Their favorites."

Setting down the catch and spear, you help Ghost gather some wood from the modest pyramid stacked beside the cabin. He nudges the Grey with a booted foot, making it tumble limply into the trench. Starting the fire in there should keep the flames contained.

As you silently place the wood and some kindling over the carcass, your mind is in two places at once. With Ghost right next to you, it's impossible to not think about yesterday; how it felt to be grabbed by him, how he questioned you again about the ammo trip, and how you can't help but detest the thought of him looking at you in pity like he once he did. 

You also think about how much you fucking hate Greys. Christ, they are disgusting. Your fingers accidentally brush against the paper-thin skin that hangs off the bones and a shudder travels up your spine.

Ghost starts the fire with a match and the two of you watch the flames catch, quietly at first— then, they roar through the corpse, quickly turning it black. Bitter smoke intermingles with the crisp spring air and the smell has you coughing into your arm.

Blue has taken it upon herself to avoid the fire, making an audible gagging sound before scooping up Grim. In her absence, you shift from foot to foot, stealing a glance at Ghost. He watches the ash build up and the flames tamper down in mild interest. 

Your fingers curl up into balls, fisting the excess fabric. "Are you worried about more?" you ask him.

It's the first thing you've said to him - actually said to him - since cutting your training short. He loosens a breath and slightly shrugs his broad shoulders. "No. I told you. We never see more than a few at a time." You weren't worried, but if you were, his dismissal of the subject would reassure you. "You should be careful until I finish your bow, though. Unless you're good at throwing knives."

"I'm not," you almost snort, voice no louder than it needs to be. "But Blue is quite good at it. She's been killing squirrels for me."

He hums his response, a low sound that gets lost in the crackle of embers, and you wonder if that's him showing a lack of interest in this kind of conversation with you. With a deep inhale, you change the subject to one you can't ignore.

"Ghost— I want to apologize," you turn to face him, straightening your shoulders. "I wasted your time yesterday. It won't happen again. If we could... give it another try, I would like that."

The smoke is starting to fade. Ghost breaks his gaze from it to study you. You try not to shrink away, wondering what he's thinking. If he feels pity, it's impossible to detect in the dark irises set behind his mask, though, you've never been able to find much of anything in them. 

"You didn't waste my time, Twix. I have an interest in your capabilities." 

"What?" 

"If you're going to be staying here," he elaborates, "—then your strength is of value to me. I'd like to know that if I ask you to do something, you can do it. That if shit happens again, I can rely on you."

"You can," you breathe out. "I am... capable."

"You are," he agrees, looking away. "You're good with a bow. You think quick. But you're still weak, and you doubt yourself." The blunt comments make your brows lower, but you can't help but feel satisfied with the glimpses of approval. "Yesterday was my fault. You weren't ready for it and I should've known that."

"I am ready," you protest, lips parting as you shake your head. "Let me try again. I don't want to be coddled."

"I'm not going to coddle you," he replies in a firm drawl. "I want you stronger first. Let's start there."

“Okay.”

A hand.

There's a hand on your shoulder, heavy and firm, offering a slight shake. With a gasp, your eyes fly open to darkness, only the white of a skull visible above you, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. 

"What the hell?" are the first words you sputter, voice harsh and raw from sleep. You grip your throat to clear it. 

He scans your face. "Get up. Come on."

"What? What... what fucking time is it?"

"Almost dawn. Let's go."

It takes a few deep breaths to calm the rush of adrenaline ignited by his abrupt wake-up call. Go where? you think to ask, but instead, you slick a hand through your hair, warily rubbing your eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

Somehow you end up outside, wading through the sprawled-out fog as you follow behind his silhouette, the morning so early and quiet that it would've felt like a dream if not for your crunching footsteps. You braid your into a single, tight braid along the way. With such shitty sleep, you're too out of it to even scowl at his backside, wondering how getting up at this hour will in any way make you stronger. 

The answer is in the two axes he carries and the towering oak tree he stops in front of, your eyes climbing up the height of it before landing back down on Ghost. Your hands are forced out of your coat pockets when an axe is offered to you, fingers curling around the handle and abs tightening from the surprising weight of it.

Confusion rolls around in your gut. Slowly, you ask, "Um. You... want me to cut this thing down?"

"We need more wood after yesterday." He inclines his head and gives a tap of his own axe to the thick trunk. "Good size for you to start with."

"It's huge," you mutter under your breath. "Why do we have to do this so early?"

If there's any reasoning to it at all, he doesn't bother sharing. Rather, he stalks over to another tree about ten meters away. The calm air is soon shattered by the rough sound of metal biting wood as he starts effortlessly cutting the trunk. A large part of you considers dropping the axe and leaving without a word, but you ignore it.

"Alright then," you whisper to yourself. 

It's not the first time you've chopped down a tree. You used to help Paul with it, and truthfully, you're surprised Ghost has never asked you to do chores like this sooner. It's certainly bigger than the skinny, young trees you used to go for, evident in how little of a dent you make with the first swing.

Either you're as weak as Ghost claims, or this axe of his is heavier than the one Paul had because your biceps feel strained by the third hit.

"Have you never done this before?"

The voice at your back nearly makes you drop the axe. Whirling around, you face the colossal presence of him and wonder how you didn't notice it sooner.

"I have." You rest the thick blade on the ground, grumbling. "Do you have a thing for sneaking up on people?"

"Be more aware of your surroundings." His tone teeters towards admonishing, and he looks you over before ticking up a brow. "And fix your stance before you throw your bloody back out."

He nudges the toe of his boot against yours, forcing you to spread your feet further apart. Your lips roll together as he grunts in approval. "Try again now."

When he takes a step back, you face the tree again, bending your elbows before extending them sharply. The blade cuts deeper this time, if only by a little.

"You're focusing too much on your arms," he remarks behind your shoulder. 

Your eyebrow twitches. "I'm... I'm holding the axe with my arms. Why would I not focus on them?"

"When you're shooting arrows, what muscles do you use the most?"

Thinking back to those lessons from Paul, you answer almost immediately. "My back." It's always the part that gets most sore. "And my... my shoulders, I guess."

"Focus more on those."

His advice helps. The next swing deals considerable damage to the bark. You turn to see his response, but he's already gone back to his tree.

The next few days involve so much chopping and sawing that you think you might be starting to hate wood and all of its forms. After the trees are down, you have to cut them into sizeable logs. The back-and-forth motion leaves your arm numb. You quickly realize why Ghost is making you get up early for this work— once the sun is out, it becomes miserable, cold sweat cascading down your back and temples. 

Blue decides this is not the kind of training she's interested in watching. You don't see much of her except during dinner where she offers to cook the squirrels she's caught for you. You don't object. You pick the meat apart down to the needly bones, wiggle your sore toes of their confinements, and knock out earlier than either of them. Fatigue goes back to claiming you swift and heavy, like a current that pulls you down, down, down. The dreams sit behind a dark wall, blocked for now. 

It goes on like this for a whole week, and somewhere along the way, you stop hating it. The grunts that leave your mouth are laced with exertion and focus. Your arms don't hurt as much. You split the logs apart as your mind fills with thoughts of everything you hate. Greys. Death. Pity. You imagine breaking all those things into a hundred, rotten pieces. It feels... good.

One morning, you awaken to sunlight already bleeding through the plywood, and confusion sits you up. You look around, wondering why Ghost didn't get you up sooner, only to find Blue lying belly-down on the raggedy rug, flipping through one of her new magazines.

"Where's Ghost?" 

"Good morning to you, too," she sings. Her chin inclines from where it rests in her palm. "I decided you need a different kind of training today. He's setting it up."

"You... you decided that, huh?"

She hums. "I made you breakfast. Go eat." She waves her hand. "I'm sure he'll be done soon."

You have no idea what she's talking about, but your stomach guides you to the cooked meat calling your name. She points out things in the magazine, like old celebrities and ridiculous perfume ads, cute boys and yummy sweets she wishes she could try; you nod along as you eat.

When he returns, she perks up. Practically tugs on your arm. You have to remind her that you're still barefoot. She impatiently groans the entire time you are lacing up your boots, taking your sweet time on purpose. 

The pond is where she leads you. That place where you first saw her.

Except today, there is a thin log stretched across one end to the other. A bridge.

"We have got to work on your balance, my student," Blue announces, hands on her hips. A gentle, warm breeze tousles her hair and she swipes it from her face. "We can't have a repeat of you-know-what."

Your brows shoot up and a chuff of breath leaves your nose. "Are you trying to say I have no sense of balance?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Come on, now."

You almost forgot Ghost followed the two of you out here until he sits on a tree stump with his carving knife and the bow he's making. He's been working on it for a few hours every day. Today, when you steal a glance as Blue clasps your hand and leads you to the homemade bridge, it almost looks like a bow, finally taking on a curved shape. You can't see much of it, though, because soon you are being instructed to cross the log.

"Without falling," Blue adds. 

"Easy," you tease, shrugging. 

"Prove it."

The log is about the width of the metal beam, but much shorter. You cross over it, arms outstretched at your sides and boots hovering a few feet above glistening water that is teeming with fish. When you step down on the other side, you shoot Blue a grin.

She rubs her chin. "Not bad, not bad. Again."

You do it again with ease, even though your muscles are still stiff from your morning workouts. 

"Okay, this time, we're going to make it more realistic." 

By realistic, she means baring her teeth in a growl and sticking her arms out like a Grey. All of a sudden, you are being chased across the log, Blue running behind you. Explicatives leave your lips until your boot misses a step and you fall into the water. This time, the shallow pond offers a comfortable temperature that doesn't send your body into panic mode. You break the surface, able to stand up on the rocky bottom, and throw your wet hair out of your face as laughter bubbles up your throat on its own accord.

You look up at Blue, playfully glaring. She smirks.

"Come here, Grey," you say.

You grab her by the ankle and pull her down into the water with you. She gasps and giggles, thrashing around in her soaked clothes as you splash water in her face. 

"Or," you taunt, "Should I say Amelia?"

Her eyes widen. "How did you—" 

Then, she's leaping at you, pushing your head under the water. "Don't ever call me that."

"Or what?" You tease and swim away, scaly fish brushing against your ankles as the wide legs of your jeans ride up. "You'll kill me?"

"Might have to!"

You're not sure how long the two of you swim in there. Minutes. Maybe an hour. Until your fingertips are pruney like how they used to get when you used to swim in the pool with your sister.

You hoist yourself out of the pond and sit by the water's edge, drenched shirt clinging to your breasts uncomfortably, but you don't care. You've felt far more uncomfortable things. The buttery sunlight kisses your exposed cheeks as you wring out your hair, Blue sitting beside you to do the same thing.

She peels off her wet jeans, probably uncomfortable in them. You would do the same if you were eleven and didn't care. On her thigh, the thick scar from her bullet wound blemishes the soft, pale skin.

"I'm a better teacher than Ghost, huh?" she says.

"So far," you nod, glancing at him. When you do, his eyes meet yours across the short distance. Only for a second. Before they flicker back down to the bow.

"He hates swimming, you know."

You look at her. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He never really goes in with me." She shrugs and buries her fingers in the grass. "Hey. Look. There are those violets I told you about."

You follow the direction of her eyes and sure enough, a patch of wild violets decorate the ground, gently bent in the breeze. As your clothes dry, the two of you pluck them. They are beautiful. Dark purple petals. You braid them into her hair. She tries to do the same for you, but her braiding skills need some work. It's a nice break from the past week you've had, your sore limbs sprawled against the grass to dry.

It's when the sun starts to lower that Blue puts her jeans back on. Your clothes are still wet, and the wind is starting to pick up, spreading gooseflesh across your skin. 

"Here."

The familiar low voice announces his presence. Tucking your wet hair behind your ears, you look up at Ghost. The two of you haven't exchanged many words except for his occasional correction of your form while cutting wood. 

He stands against the sun. You take the finished bow from him in quiet awe. It's even nicer up close, the smoothed oak caressing your palms as you glide them up and down the length of this new weapon. The first one he gave you was made for a child, but this one is larger, the perfect size for you. Your index finger gives a pluck to the string, feeling the hum of vibrations. He must have just added that. 

"Thank you," you tell him honestly. Whatever uncertainty or irritation you might feel about him doesn't change the swell of gratitude you feel in this moment. It’s a tangible thing that sits in your chest. “It's... great, really."

"Might take some getting used to,” he says gruffly.

You shrug. "That's alright."

You glance to your left where Blue is still changing. With a swallow, you hold the bow tight to your chest. "Do you think I'm ready to try more tomorrow? Not just the wood. I feel like... I feel like I've been getting stronger from it already."

He gives a short nod. "Tomorrow, then."

[herbgerblin]

I'm still obsessed with Lady Godwin's build. I was doodling all three of the new taz gang and then I detoured and started drawing Godwin's other looks. I referenced Edwardian circus costumes for her prizefighter fit (I just now realized I forgot the axe :/)

ID: Three drawings of Lady Elizabeth Godwin, an elderly white woman in Edwardian attire. On the right, she has her original body, which is short and understated. The caption above her reads, "Lady Elizabeth Godwin 7 years before story begins (Pre-Frankenstein Reanimation)." She wears a large navy hat with plume feathers, a pale green dress, and gold and emerald jewelry. The middle drawing is of her on her current body, much taller and more curvaceous. Her skin is now pale blue and there is a beauty mark on her left breast. She wears the same hat, now secured with a wine-colored scarf wrapped around her head and neck. She wears a bold pink dress with a plunging neckline that wraps around her waist. On the right, she wears the hat without the scarf, revealing the staples and bolts connecting her head to her body. She is wearing a costume-like corset and bloomers set in gold, fuschia, and navy, as well as dark brown heeled boots. End ID.

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ DOWN BOY!

♰ featuring: shidou ryusei [blue lock]

♰ note: i've been having unholy thoughts of feral/muzzled!shidou for the longest time now and was ITCHING to write this i stg that image of him in the manga in the straight jacket made ME feral. (spoilerss?????? ig???? not rlly???) but uhhh yeah, enjoy!

sypnosis: you want to try something different in the bedroom. your boyfriend is not happy about it in the slightest. wc: 4.8k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. fem/fem-bodied reader. switch!reader. switch!ryusei. bondage. use of handcuffs. use of a muzzle/restraint mask. use of cock rings. implied thick/chubby!reader. SHIDOU RYUSEI HIMSELF. feral!ryusei. slight pet play(?) (idk u make him whimper for u and refer to him as a dog/mutt). degradation. orgasm denial/edging. dry orgasms. ball-sucking. unprotected sex. big dick!ryu agenda! cervix-fucking. squirting. rough sex. dacryphilia. spanking. choking. creampie/breeding. cursing. excessive mentions of drool/saliva/spitting. groping. hair pulling. ONE cock slap.꒷꒦

“Babe, is all of this really necessary?”

Ryusei sighed in a bored tone as you clicked the second pair of fuzzy handcuffs around his slender wrist. You rolled your eyes as you straddled his naked waist, trying to figure out how to cuff the other end of the fluffy device to your shared headboard. He has been asking questions like this ever since you first suggested letting you top him.

Handcuffs, babe, really?

A cock ring—what is that supposed to be for?

Is that . . . Is that a muzzle?

Despite the fact that it seemed like he was asking you a never-ending stream of questions, you knew it was just his feeble attempt to try and sway you. It wouldn’t. However, you thought it was funny because, when you first suggested it, he was ecstatic at the prospect of you on top. He was, however, immediately protesting it after noticing all of the little toys and trinkets you pulled out to use on him. A black restraint mask that was intended to cover the lower half of his face and reveal his scowling lips, as well as handcuffs, a cock ring, and other items. It was no secret that he loved touching you, biting you, breeding you, and ravishing you any chance he got, and the fact that all of the items you brought prevented him from doing as he pleased annoyed him to no end.

Whatever the case, the mere thought of you domming him was enough to make him put up with this torture.

After figuring out how to cuff the handcuff to the bed, you grabbed both of Ryusei’s wrists and gave them a few firm tugs to make sure that they wouldn’t come undone. He, on the other hand, was more focused on your attire: a set of hot pink lacy lingerie that matched his eyes and perfectly complemented your skin tone. The sight of your full breasts dangling in his face was enough to arouse him, and the feeling of your thighs pressing against his sides had his semi-hard cock already straining against the fabric of his thin boxers.

Reaching to your side, you grabbed the black muzzle/mask that resembled the one he wore while being restrained in blue lock and secured it to his face. You noticed the irritated furrow of his brow, how his fuschia hues cast themselves elsewhere, away from you, and the way the corner of his lips pulled downward in an unamused frown. You could not help but giggle at him, finding it hilarious that your boyfriend was pouting so much over the fact that he could not touch you.

Placing two fingers along the side of his jaw, you turned his head to face your own, relishing in the way he purposely forced his eyes away from you so that he didn’t have to meet your gaze. “Aww, no need to look so pouty, Ryu.” You teased, mimicking his pout with a mocking one of your own. “Is the muzzle too tight on you, doggy?”

That caught his attention. His previously bored expression abruptly changed to one of vexation as his eyes darted to yours in a ferocious glare. His teeth bared at you from the mask's tiny bars, sharp canines clenched together from his indignation. He jostled under you in an attempt to lunge for you, but the cuffs held him taut.

Had he not been restrained, you knew that it would’ve been over for you if he managed to get his hands on you. You shifted your hips back to press down against his bulge, both of your hands resting against his muscled chest as you balanced yourself on top of him. Whatever curses he had on the verge of forming on his lips had died into a strangled moan. The sensation of your clothed pussy being pressed against his sensitive shaft had him reeling almost instantly into submission, causing you to smirk in triumph. He was always so easy to control when he was horny.

“That’s what I thought, pup.” You jabbed, patting him (condescendingly) lovingly atop his head, to which he responded with a small growl.

“Don’t push it, angel.”

Grinning impishly, you planted a kiss atop his mask, right where his lips should have been. From there, you continued to leave a trail of hot, slow kisses down his jaw, neck, chest, and abs until you reached your destination. Your minxish eyes locked onto his as your digits threaded themselves into the boxer's waistband. You then gently kissed the area where his tip, which was already dripping and staining the fabric, strained against the boxers. He tossed his head back with a groan, his cock twitching before you with anticipation. As you slowly pulled his boxers down his thighs, his cock would spring free, nearly slapping against your nose as it swayed erotically against Ryusei’s pelvis.

You couldn’t help but coo, watching as he twitched pathetically in front of you, aching for your touch. “You poor, poor thing. Already so pent up, and I’ve barely started touching you yet.” He didn’t respond to you, his hips bucking towards your face as you could feel his thighs spasming beneath you. “Too bad, you won’t be able to cum until I say so~.” Reaching into your collection of trinkets, you pulled out a pink silicone cockring and pinched it between your fingertips, holding it up tauntingly for him to see while sitting between his legs.

Ryusei reacted to this by whimpering indignantly, clenching his fists in the cuffs, and shaking his head with desperation. “B-Babe, c’mon. You don’t have ta’ do all of this.” He tried to reason with you, but you weren’t budging.

“Oh, but I do, Ryu~!” As you spoke, your voice was ablaze with glee. With one hand holding the base of his cock, you forced it to rise while using the other to place the cockring on his sensitive tip and roll it down at a rather agonizingly slow pace. The feeling of the tight ring sliding down his cock caused the blonde to hiss in both discomfort and pleasure as his heels dug into the bed and his hips bucked into your touch. “Think of it as my revenge for all the times you roped me into your horny little exhibitionist habits.”

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘revenge’ you little—”

You cut him off, unamused, with a firm squeeze of your digits around the cockring, making him toss his head back and cry out—a silent reminder that you were the one in control here. His cock twitched, his blushed tip turning an even darker shade of red as he was obviously pent up beyond relief.

“F-Fuck, fuck, okay! Y-Y/N, please, just do something!” He pleaded as he writhed beneath your now delicate touch, his hips thrusting into the air dryly. “Feels like I’m bouta’ explode here…”

Since you had already planned to do so, you decided to comply with his desperate pleas. You lean toward the underside of his cock and his two hairless balls, which have started to swell with his virile seed. You parted your lips, allowing your drooling tongue to lick over the seam of those fat orbs, drowning them with your skillful muscle and affection. Wrapping your lips around one of them, you suctioned it into your mouth, sensually rolling it around your tongue with a gentle hum that shot to his cock before moving on to the next one. Ryusei hissed, panting, his heels dug into the sheets, peering down at you through his blurry vision as you pleasured his balls.

You met his gaze with a wink as you placed a kiss on either one before proceeding upwards, slobbering along the underside of his length with your pillowy orifice until you reached his destined tip. Almost immediately, your soft brims enveloped around his cock, drawing inch by inch into your accommodating throat. Ryusei, the greedy slut that he was, started to desperately hump your face in an attempt to release the pressure he was feeling, but his efforts were in vain. While he was strong, he was heavily restrained in this position, and with your body weight pressing against his hips to keep them down, there was not much he could do.

“F-Fuck, babe, I-I can’t. Ngh, p-please. Your mouth feels s’fuckin’ good . . “ He babbled, drool pooling from his whimpering brims. He looked so pretty like this, begging for more, his face flushed as fat tears pooled in the corners of his eyes—you wanted to ruin him.

“Eyes on me, Ryu.” You ordered, your thumb rolling teasingly along his sensitive tip, and he tried. He really, really tried, but he was so stimulated that he couldn’t stop them from crossing and rolling in the back of his head. “C-Caan’t~!” He whined helplessly, his hips thrusting into your touch. “Y/N, I-I’m gonna…”

“I know, baby, do it. Come undone for me…” You purred as you wrapped your lips around his tip once more, this time going so far as to take him all the way to his base in one stroke, your pretty nose pressing against his pelvis and his fine patch of blonde hair. He throbbed against your soft tongue, his balls clenching and pulsing against your chin.

“T-The ring! God. Please, Y/N. Move the ring! W-Wanna cum down your throat . . . make a pretty mess of that f-fucking gorgeous face.”

You hummed with amusement, pulling your mouth off of his cock so that you could shake your head at him. Smirking sinfully, you sat up straight and vigorously pumped his shaft, much to his dismay. “Nu-uh. You can cum just like this baby or not at all.” More tears streamed from his eyes as you grinned cruelly at him, and his brims ripped with a howl of frustration and ecstasy.

“Y-Y/N, you f-fucking bi—” Your other hand cupped his balls while your busy hand tightened the squeeze on his cock, moving more forcefully. You're practically milking him now. “Ahn, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck~!”

As his orgasm finally overcame him, he abruptly lost his voice and began to violently convulse. His hips trembled and twitched in your hands. His thighs shook against yours as his back arched upward and his fists gripped the chains of the fuzzy handcuffs. His lips were drooling with saliva as his eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and a series of whiny whimpers and moans escaped him. His body thrashed as he struggled to wriggle free of your vice grip, which was still relentlessly pumping him throughout his dry orgasm. As his release reverberated through him, you could feel his balls clench and his cock pulse in your palm, shooting fictitious ropes of cum. Funnily enough, despite his intense "cumming," he still remained rock-hard, with his cock still standing proud in your palm.

“You look so pretty like this, Ryu~” You purred, admiring his thoroughly blissed out expression. His eyes were unfocused and half-lidded, his cheeks were flushed a deep maroon, and his lips were glossy from drool and tinged red and swollen from him biting them. But when he heard your voice, he seemed to return to reality. "Y–Y/N . . . Let me the fuck out of these things now, or so help me, I will fucking murder you," he snarled, his teeth baring once again and his eyes narrowing into a furious glare as he tried to break free of his handcuffs and lunge at you.

His tone was serious, as were his words, but you knew he wouldn’t actually kill you . . . maybe.

You sighed, shaking your head a verbal rampage of swears and half-hearted threats continued to escape his lips. You raised your hand, placing a firm smack against his cock, the appendage slapping against his thigh with an audible “plap”. His body twitched once more, and he let out a mix of a snarl and a throaty groan simultaneously.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ryu. You’re acting like some untamed mutt.” You muttered, enjoying in amusement at how his expression appeared to flare more from his outrage.

You stood on your knees between his legs, turning around so that your rear was facing him. Your thumbs hooked into the waistband of your lacey panties, sliding them down teasingly at an agonizing pace. When Ryusei saw your ample rear exposed to him, you could hear his breath catch in his throat. However, what really got his attention were the thin threads of translucent arousal that still connected your puffy folds to your panties. Of course, you would become aroused by his torment.

“Fortunately, I already possess the ideal remedy for taming feral creatures like you~.” You turned back to face him, crawling up his body until you were straddling his waist once more. Reaching for the restraint mask, you undid the buckle behind his mask, allowing it to slide away from his face and reveal the full extent of his drool-stained lips and chin. You smirked slyly as you balled up the panties in one hand and grabbed Ryusei's cheeks in the other, squeezing until his jaw finally gave way enough for you to stuff your panties into his mouth. He was glowering at you with promised malice. You were certain that if looks could kill, you would be long dead, but so be it. You leaned down and gently kissed his nose, to which he growled in response.

Returning to your original position lower on his body, you turned around so that he would be able to see your ass perfectly as you straddled his waist. Your digits took hold of his sensitive length and guided it up to your plump folds as your hips rose, before slowly and delightfully lowering yourself onto it. Both of you released guttural moans from the intrusion as Ryusei’s cock filled you inch by inch until you had finally settled on his hilt. The feeling of being filled to the brim by his cock elicited nothing but a loud, pornographic mewl of absolute ecstasy from your lips. Behind you, you could hear your partner making strangled groans, and you could feel him trembling beneath you. He was pleading with you to move, to do anything, from behind the makeshift gag. Of course, you willingly obliged because you were as desperate as he was.

You made an arch in your back and began to rock your hips back and forth and up and down along his cock, your hands on his thighs, as you began to ride him within an inch of his life. Your ass pounded rhythmically on his pelvis, the rather obscene sound reaching both of your ears as it reverberated off the bedroom walls, encouraging you to go faster and harder. When you heard Ryusei's choked and muffled groans, you couldn't help but clench tightly around his cock. His inability to do anything but watch as your ass rippled against his pelvis while pinned beneath you, along with the sensation of his cock hitting those deep sweet spots inside of you, enthralled you with euphoria. You could tell he was getting ready for another dry release because you could feel his still-sensitive cock throbbing inside of you with need and because of the way he suddenly began to thrash behind you.

“Settle down, Ryu.” You chided gently through your breathless pants and pleasured moans, slowing your pace so you could instead rock your hips along his own, grinding yourself delightfully against him. “Or else I might not let you—”

SNAP!

“. . .Cum.”

Your hips slowed to a halt, breath catching in your throat as the sound of something metallic snapping was audible. You were not a moron; you were perfectly aware of what that noise was. You slowly turned to look over your shoulder at the offender as if it were a scene from a horror film, only to find that your worst suspicions had been proven correct. Ryusei sat partially upright, one end of the fuzzy cuffs still fastened to the bed, it’s chain severed, and the other still connected to his wrist—his chest rising and falling erratically from his heavy panting. His face contorted into a mask of fury, his brows furrowing in a dark storm. His eyes were wild and alight with some kind of feral sadistic glee, blazing with an intensity that was both frightening and arousing. His lips were furrowed between a joker-like grin and a ferocious snarl as his sharp canines bared along the fabric of your panties, which were still balled in his mouth.

Oh, he was going to fuck you up.

“R-Ryusei . . .” You stuttered, your voice soft and already pleading, as though you were trying to reason with a feral beast.

His movements were nearly faster than sound, and he remained silent as his now-unbound hand grabbed the wrist that was still restrained and pulled it free with a single, powerful tug.

He was free.

Silence filled the room you two were in as neither of you uttered a word—you not daring to speak, and Ryusei was too busy savoring your fear to ruin his moment. Panic etched deep lines onto your face as your heart skipped a beat, and terror surged through your veins like ice. His cock, still nestled deep inside of you, twitched. He was getting aroused by this.

You scrambled to get off of him, like an imaginary gunshot signaling the start of the race, with every intention of running as far away from him as you could, but it was futile. You could not compare to him in terms of strength or speed. The instant you turned to flee, he was tackling you down to the mattress, causing you to scream in a combination of surprise and terror.

“Oh, nah, baby. Where you goin’?” He started after removing his panties from your mouth, placing them mockingly beside your head as he pressed his full weight into you. He had a hand placed firmly between your shoulder blades, and both of his thighs were caging your own to keep you pinned beneath him. “You don’t get to put me through all of this shit.” He paused, giving you a harsh thrust to accentuate his point, which drew a breathless gasp from you. “And think that you get to run away with your tail tucked between these pretty legs.” He snarled, leaning so close to you that you could feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“R-Ryu, I-I’m sorry!” You whined as you writhed beneath him, attempting to save yourself from whatever impending hell he was going to put you through.

He cackled deviously, tossing his head back in pure, unadulterated lunacy while he pulled his cock from your dripping folds. “Oh, are you?” He would inquire, a faux pout on his lips as he grabbed that stupid ring you had on his cock and pulled it free with a grunt despite the pain. “Ohh, fuck yeah. Can finally breathe.” He breathed as pre drooled from his tip.

“Y-Yes! I just wanted to have a little fun with yo—”

He interrupted you with a hard smack to your ass, causing you to sob aloud. “Fun? You call that fun, babe?” He snarled, fisting at your tresses and yanking your head back so that your ear was once again against your lips. “I’ll show you fuckin’ fun.”

You squealed as his two large, strong hands seized your hips, forcing you to rest on your knees. Before you could regain your bearings, his hand pressed against the back of your skull and pushed your face harshly into the sheets. Once in position, he pressed his hips against your own, laying his cock over your ass and thrusting languidly against your pillowy cheeks. He took two large handfuls of your rear and began groping and kneading the flesh with his hands, giving you a few heavy smacks here and there until your cheeks were turning red and you were a whimpering mess.

“Such a pretty ass here you have, baby.” As his thrusting grew faster between your cheeks, you felt the blunt head of his tip press against your puckered hole. “Maybe I’ll have fun with you here instead…”

Your breath hitched in your throat, craning your head to the side so that you could see him peering down maliciously at you from over the swell of your ass. You were no stranger to Ryusei's sex escapades, but anal was something the two of you had yet to explore because the thought of all the preparation and pain frightened you to the core. He was aware of this, which is why his grin became more deviant when your eyes met and he noticed the worried gaze.

“Ryu, n-no, I-I can’t, I’m not ready—!”

He tossed his head back with malicious laughter once more, clearly enjoying your torment as he pressed the blunt head of his cock against your puckered hole, but he never applied enough force to break the resistance.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that, princess?” One of his hands left your ass to seize your hair in a vice-like grip again, pulling you up so that your back was flush against his chest. His other hand reached for your chin, lanky digits gripping your cheeks and puckering your lips in an adorable manner. It was undeniable how his fuschia hues seemed to glow brighter with desire at the sight of your soft, glossy brims. “Makes me wanna fuck ya up even more . . “

He grumbled, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate liplock. It was clumsy, messy, and full of lewd tongue-to-tongue contact between Ryusei and you. He claimed your brims, ramming his long tongue deeper into your drooling maw as his tongue tangled with your own. He drew it out of your mouth, sharp incisors gnawing teasingly on the soft muscle while greedy brims sucked hungrily on your flesh, eager for more of your taste. It was hard to breathe. He was suffocating you, and yet you were enjoying every minute of it.

When he finally pulled away, several thin strings of drool connected your lips to his own, to which he would grin and place another sloppy smooch on your lips again. Keeping your lips puckered, he would apply more pressure to your cheeks until your pliant jaw fell slack. He pursed his own lips, drawing up saliva in his mouth, before his long tongue saliciously lulled out of his mouth, globs of drool rolling from his maw and into your own, which you would obediently swallow, having performed this action for him plenty of times before.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, placing two firm smacks against your round cheeks, making you keen and flinch. “Such an obedient little slut, f’me.”

The hand in your hair jerked you around again, forcing you back into the sheets before you could protest as he pressed his full weight against you, hips flush against yours—the ideal position for a prone bone. Keeping you pinned beneath him, he raised his hips so that he could line himself up with your entrance before slowly, tantalizingly sinking the entirety of his length into you. The position, combined with the delectable curve of Ryusei's cock, had you gasping with delight as you felt his cock caressing the deepest parts of you.

“Hah, shit~.” He drawled into your ear as his hips suddenly slammed forward with a single, savage thrust. His glans slammed into your cervix in a single smooth thrust, digging into the squishy entrance to your womb as if trying to pry you open, his cock's curves perfectly hugged by the pleats and folds of your pussy. His pace was sloppy and uncoordinated at first—each roll of his hips was frenzied and rough, as if the only thing on his mind was punishing your poor little pussy for the torment you had inflicted on him only moments before.

Your cries and wails of pleasure echoed off your walls, and you made a mental note to make amends to your neighbors later in the week. However, you were too preoccupied with Ryusei's cock bullying into your pussy to think about anything else.

The hand that forced your head into the sheets was snaking itself around your neck, the crease of his forearm and elbow resting snugly against your windpipe as he began to squeeze. To add to his brutality, he balled the fist of the arm that held you taught and used his other crease to pull it back, effectively locking you into an unforgiving headlock that made your toes curl and your moans catch in your throat. You couldn’t breathe, but damn did it feel good.

“What was it that you called me, babe?” He snarled beneath a mix of heavy grunts and growls, his teeth scraping against the shell of your ear. “A ‘mutt’ was it? Hm?” He inquired, applying more pressure to your throat as he continued to rut relentlessly against your ass, audible claps sounding with each pound. “Well, woof, woof, bitch.”

His words made you whimper as your cheeks burned with shame. You felt a tinge of regret, but it was quickly overshadowed by the immense pleasure you felt. As his grip tightened on you, your nails bit into his forearms, scratching against his bronzed flesh. You clenched around him, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape as black spots darted across your vision—the asphyxiation only added to your pleasure.

“S-So fuckin’ tight now.” He groaned blissfully, loosening his grip so that you wouldn’t pass out when he noticed you beginning to go limp. With your newly acquired oxygen, you gasped for air and cried out in pleasure, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. “Gonna milk every last drop out of me, aren’t ya? Greedy slut.”

“Yes, yes! ahn~! R-Ryu, I-I’m gonna cum!!”

He chuckled as he listened to your cries, using the hand that was not around your throat to stuff two digits into the side of your mouth, pulling on your cheek to fish-hook your soft cheeks. “Yeah? Not until you bark for me, you’re not.”

“W-What . . ?”

“You heard me, bitch. Bark. You wanna cum, don’t you? Make a pretty mess of my cock, hm?”

You obviously hesitated, having never done anything like this before, but when you felt his cock angle just right to pummel into that sweet spot deep inside of you, you threw all logic and reasoning out the window. “Arf! A-Ah, fuck . . arf!" You hoped and prayed that it would be enough to please him—that it would be enough to finally let you cum.

Luckily for you, it was. Cackling cruelly, he shook your head back and forth dumbly, your tongue lulling out of your mouth to lap at his fingers. “That's it. That’s a good little pup. Go on, cum for me, doll.”

You did so gratefully; your moans mixed with babbles of useless speech along the lines of “thank you” and “m’sorry”. Your body would twitch and convulse, your mouth dropping open, as your fluids once more started to stick to his pelvis from the way she creamed around his pistoning cock. Your teary eyes could not register their surroundings, nor could your brain register Ryusei slamming his cock's head firmly against your squishy cervix, pumping you full of his seed.

“F-fuck, fuckk~.” He hissed into your ear, his arm tightening around your throat as his orgasm washed over him. “Love the way this pussy squeezes me, creamin’ all around my fat cock . .” He panted, pressing soft yet sloppy kisses against your ear and cheek.

He let you go in an instant, allowing your exhausted body to fall slack on the sheets before you, gradually regaining your bearings as you came down from your high. Ryusei rose from you, kneeling on the backs of your thighs, watching as his cock slid languidly free from your sopping cunt, slapping against your ass once free. A twisted grin spread across his face as he watched his thick cum slide out of you, the steaming milky white substance gliding over your throbbing clit and puffy folds, contrasting with your complexion in a way that was completely addicting to him—enticing even. Your soft whines would bring him back to reality.

“Ryuu . .” Your gentle voice called out to him as you peered over your shoulder. He noticed your glassy eyes and tears running down your cheeks, your puffy lips pouting, and your cute nose sniffling. “. . .You’re heavy.”

“Yeah? Y’didn’t seem ta’ have a problem with it earlier when I was tearing this sweet little ass up, pretty thing.” He remarked, placing a light love tap on your reddened ass.

"That was before the post-nut clarity hit," you said, your brow furrowed with mock irritation, squirming around as you tried to crawl out from under him. “Now get upp~! I wanna take a bath.”

“Oh?” There was something chilling behind his tone, something that stopped you in your efforts. Ryusei towered over you once more, placing both of his palms next to your head as his powerful forearms encircled you. Something heavy—phallic—pressed against you. It was undeniable. He was hard again.

“And who said I was done with you, Angel?”

ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

[hana-no-seiiki]

I WORSHIP THEE

afab reader ver.

yan! god (yun) x reader smut

summary: god prays as he partakes in his heavenly meal.

MINORS DNI. GO PLAY ROBLOX OR SOME SHIT.

[ link here to amab version] [ part two ]

“Oh lord in heaven,”

He parted before your legs and spoke. A fervent adoration in his beautiful hot-pink eyes. His soft, raven locks felt like feathers around your fingers. His lips wet from your arousal, cheeks red from his.

“Hallowed be thy name.”

Caged between his gigantic fuschia wings, covered in eyes with the same color, you had no escape.

But it wasn’t like you wanted to.

“Thy kingdom come,”

He dove back in, less harsh than his first taste of you. Instead he started by lathering your labia with his tongue, closer the opening at first until he reached your hood.

“Thy will be done,”

Abusing your clitoris as he widened your legs. Eyes still trained on your face and reactions. Heart and mind focused on your pleasure.

“On Earth as it is in Heaven.”

But you had gotten impatient; too eager. Your hands quickly moved to move him where you wanted, back to your drenched hole.

He groaned, enjoying the dull pain your actions brought a little too much.

“Give me today mine daily bread.”

And who was he to deny your wishes? It matter not that he created you and universe. It mattered even less that he reigned over the world and had the power to delete with a snap of his fingers.

You were his world, his god, and he’ll make sure you felt the weight of his adoration.

“And forgive mine debts as I forgive mine debtors.”

His tongue made circular motions inside of you. Rubbing the appendage against your walls in an unsteady rhythm that only increased in the rate of motion and intensity. Thorough in his actions, he made he sure left no place untouched and unloved.

“And lead me into temptation, deliver me into the heights of Heaven.”

You felt your climax arrive. Your legs shook, your walls twitch from pleasure. But he did not stop until your high ended.

“For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever.”

His lips met yours in a desirous kiss. You feel his fingers replace the place his mouth once took, stretching the entrance open to take him. He, who was already leaking, covered in his own release. His face covered in beautiful tears that only accentuated his eyes and skin.

“Amen.”

This was just the beginning.

[ part two ]

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[upsidedownwithsteve]

BAD FOR BUSINESS: THE BONUS LEVEL

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

It was the first shift you’d had with Steve since you’d made each other come in the front seat of his car.

It had been as you expected: a little awkward, a little nerve wracking. Gazes meeting across the arcade, dim lights hiding Steve’s pink cheeks, your frantic, wide eyes, the hitched breaths every time the other came a little too close.

You stayed away for the most part, hidden behind the cash desk while Steve helped Mike Wheeler and his friends with the jerky controller on Space Invaders. But then the eight o’clock was rolling round and the customers left, Robin vacuumed the floors and Murray was hurrying out the door and telling you that you were in charge of locking up. The rain came when Robin left, her jacket stretched over her head as she ran to her mom’s car and then it was just Steve, watching you from across the desk.

The weather outside was a roar above your head, a deafening din of water of rain on the roof and with the machines powered down for the night, it was the only thing you could hear. Maybe, if you listened hard enough, you would’ve been able to hear your own heartbeat under it all, matching the erratic beat.

“You gonna help?” You asked Steve, just to break the tension. You gestured to the stack of receipts and tickets and coins on the desk that still needed counted. “Or are you just gonna gawk?”

Steve turned pinker under the lights, ultraviolet and fuschia, neon aquamarine from the glow of the games and Steve was too pretty under it all, prettier with his flushed cheeks. It gave you a little piece of normality back when he narrowed his eyes at you, brows furrowed, gaze bored. But his nose was still tinted pink when he reached your side and when his arm brushed yours, you hated and loved how close he was.

Your stomach flipped, tumbled, an endless fall into something you couldn’t make out. Not yet.

You stood in silence for minutes, maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Maybe it had only been one. But the tension was too much, it was splitting at the seams, it was cracking you open, a yawning, stretching ache in your chest, beating at your bones and—

“You’re not doing that right,” is what you said. And then you just shut up, lips sealed, features pinched as if in pain because it was taking you everything you had to not talk about the kiss. Both kisses. The two fucking kisses you’d shared with Steve fucking Harrington.

And it was easier to fight about it than anything else.

Steve scoffed like you knew he would, eyes rolling, lips curling. “How the fuck can I be doing it wrong?” He bit. “I’m counting tickets, princess, not balancing million dollar cheques.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Because he was side by side with hand brushing yours every time you both reached across the desk and he was warm, he was solid and he was wearing the same cologne from the Photo Booth and if you were going to put your smart mouth to use again, it was going to be against Steve’s.

It was too hot and suddenly the rain above wasn’t the loudest thing in the room. You swallowed hard and tried to block out the best of your heart against your ribcage. It was so loud, you wondered if Steve could hear it too.

“What? No argument?” Steve glanced at you from the side of his eyes, frowning. You weren’t sure what gave it away, maybe your tensed shoulders, your blown out pupils. Whatever it was, it made the boy too bold. “You’re lookin’ a little warm, princess, you okay there?”

Smug. Steve sounded smug and it was fucking infuriating.

And then you were on him.

Or maybe it was the other way around, you were sure. It happened seconds ago, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember anything. All that mattered now was that your lips were fused to Steve’s and he was crowding you against the counter, his hands splayed against your sides, fingers slipping up over your ribs and making your shirt slide with it, bare skin exposed for him to touch, a gasp wrenched from his throat at the feel of you, your hands grabbing at his hair and pulling hard.

He was moaning, but maybe you were too, gasping into each others patted mouths and swallowing each others noises, noses smashed to cheeks and hands roaming, bodies pressed together in a desperate bid to get as close as possible with your clothes still on and you’d never been so glad that Murray never bothered with working security cameras.

Steve was saying your name, whispers of it between curses, making it sound like a prayer, like you were something holy, that you were gonna save him but you decided then and there you’d do whatever it took to make Steve sound the way he did - even if you went to hell with him.

But then he was pushing you away, panting, big hands curling around the backs of your knees and you were on the desk, tickets and coins scattering, sitting in a pool of neon lights and the silk of your splayed skirt.

Steve sucked in a breath, wrecked sounding. He’d never looked prettier. Swollen lips, pink cheeks, hair a riot from your teasing fingers, his eyes darker than they were supposed to be.

“I wanna go down on you, so fuckin’ badly.”

You swore out loud, brain glitching for a second, stuttering over the words that had gotten stuck in your throat and you were nodding, frantic, head bobbing and jaw hanging loose because Steve was dropping to his knees and sliding his palms up your thighs.

“M’gonna need some confirmation here, princess,” Steve urged, kissing across your knee, his hair tickling at the insides of your thighs.

You were tingling, an electric kind of buzz running under your skin, your body a livewire and you hadn’t felt this turned on since god knows fucking when. It was a filthy, pretty thing, dirty and wrong and in an inappropriate place with a beautiful boy who you’d tricked yourself into hating.

Supposedly.

So you let some sounds rip from your throat and thankfully they made words, desperate pleas of agreement and Steve was grinning, looking like he’d had all his wishes granted as he mouthed his way between your thighs. He didn’t hesitate and there was no shame from you either as he dragged up your skirt, fingers hooking into the cotton of your underwear so he could pull it to the side. He groaned, a breath punching from him as his lips parted at the sight of you, pretty and wet and waiting.

He made you squeal, smiling against you as he leaned in to kiss at your folds, delicate little things against your slick skin, nose nudging at your clit and then you moaned his name and he lost all sense of control.

“Steve, oh— ohmygod, fuck!” You lurched forward, body curling over him as you grabbed at the boy’s hair and Steve just answered in kind, hands curling around the tops of your thighs to pull you closer to him, your ass perched precariously on the edge of the counter, toes skimming the floor and you were almost riding his face, hips rolling as he held you up and licked broad stripes over your cunt.

He only moved back to press a surprisingly sweet kiss to the juncture of your thigh but he had your eyes rolling when he looked up at your from under his lashes, lips pink and wet from you. “M’so goddamn hard right now, you have no idea.”

You were crying out, an awfully loud moan ripping from your lips and you were putty, you were a mess. And for the next fifteen minutes, you were entirely Steve’s. He took you apart with his tongue and his lips and you let him, his blunt fingernails leaving half moon markings in your hips that’d you stare at in the mirror later.

And when you came, hard, grinding down onto Steve’s mouth, his chin, his nose, you let go of your manic grip on his hair and smoothed a hand over his temple instead, coaxing him closer before you gasped out his name, breathless.

The next morning, nobody could answer why there were tickets scattered over the floor, hidden under machines and stuck to forgotten bubblegum. And when the rest of the team looked to you and Steve for answers, you both just walked in opposite directions, matching smiles hidden in the shadows between the neon lights.

[sarahscribbles]

𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬!

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Loki’s naked body is warm and wonderfully solid on top of you. He’s all firm lines and defined muscles, and the heavy weight of him settled between your parted thighs surpasses anything you’ve concocted in your many daydreams. 

It’s anyone's guess how you both got here; you can’t remember no matter how hard you try. One moment you were drunkenly sashaying away from him at the end of the Grandmaster’s soiree, and the next you’re lying naked in his bed, tangled between cobalt blue sheets while the ridiculous gown you’ve had to wear is no more than a discarded fuschia puddle on the floor. 

Next to it, although you have no recollection of removing it, is the deep blue leather that had hugged Loki’s body so perfectly all evening. 

Although, you’re pleased to learn that what that leather has concealed from you is equally - if not more - exquisite. 

Your fingers grip the shoulders of the last man you ever expected to be underneath, running greedily over the hard muscles that flex and jump each time he presses his warm lips to your skin. Loki is kissing a slow, lazy trail from your stomach over the swell of your breasts, taking care to worship each one with his mouth until you arch in a perfect bow off the bed in search of more. 

“Please, more,” you breathe out on a moan, dropping a heavy hand to tangle in his hair and coax him forwards.

He hums softly against your breast, then sinks his teeth into a nipple and makes you yelp. “Are you finally giving in?” He asks, swirling his tongue soothingly over the affected area. 

You groan shamelessly at the sweet torture he’s subjecting you to while digging your heels deeper into his perfect ass. “Fuck! Yes, Loki!”

An elegant finger and thumb continue to twist and pull at a nipple, but Loki’s sinful mouth is now at your neck, kissing and sucking a patchwork of pretty purple bruises into your skin. 

You welcome each one with relish. 

“I want to hear you say it,” he purrs, licking a slow line along the column of your neck until he reaches your ear.

When his teeth sink into the flesh of your earlobe and tug, you feel a molten swell of heat pulse between your shaking thighs. 

“I give in! I yield! Please, just…just fuck me, Loki. I can’t stand it any longer!’ you babble out. Yggdrasil knows you’d say whatever he wanted if it meant he’d fuck you. 

His warm breath hits your ear as he laughs softly. “It’s me that you want, isn’t it? Me who fills all those filthy thoughts in your head. Tell me I’m wrong, Princess.” 

You couldn’t even if you tried. Desire for this man is spilling from your every pore and burning through your blood. You can’t remember ever wanting someone so desperately, not even Scrapper - or Val as she told you to call her - when she made you…

“Fuck!” Your head slams back on the pillows propped up behind you. “You’re right! I dream about you day and night! I can barely sleep with how I crave you! Does that appease you?”

“Immensely,” Loki replies slowly, rolling his hips tormentingly against your aching core.

You’re burning for him hot as the Vanir sun, and the slow caress of his hand along your thigh is kindling to the flames. You spread wider for him on nothing more than his touch, leaving no part of you hidden from his hungry gaze.

It sends a wild thrill pulsing through your blood until you’re almost dizzy. 

That same hand curls around your knee so he can press his lips to your bare skin. “You’re going to sing for me, Princess, even it if it takes all night,” he murmurs

Slowly, his lips begin a path along your inner thigh, kissing and sucking his marks as he climbs. You can’t help but clench expectantly as he moves closer to where you ache for him, whimpering at how infuriatingly slow he’s moving.

Loki’s eyes snap to yours and he smirks, relishing the effect he’s so clearly having on you. His mouth moves closer still, until you can almost feel his warm breath fan over your clit. You brace for his touch, for the sweet feeling of relief that will come under his limber tongue…

You jolt awake suddenly with Loki’s name dying like embers on your lips. 

Through bleary eyes the room settles into focus around you. The muted colours of your dream intensify to startling white and cobalt blue and, after a few slow seconds, you recognise the living area of the Penthouse. You aren’t tangled between the cream sheets of Loki’s bed, but still lying on the same sofa he’s made you sleep on these past few months. 

An odd pang of disappointment echoes in your chest.

The Penthouse lies silent around you, so silent that you could almost believe that you’re alone, but the feel of the locket around your neck - hot and heavy on your skin - is enough of a warning. Despite the silence and the closed doors Loki is lurking somewhere. 

Your heart skips a beat at the thought, but it’s out of fear you tell yourself. 

You shift slightly on the couch, only then realising how widely your legs are spread in spite of the restrictive fabric and how one hand is loosely cupping your breast. Heat blossoms instantly beneath your cheeks at the implication and you mouth a silent prayer of thanks to the gods that you’re alone. 

Anything you uttered in your sleep is between you and them. 

You relax back into the mass of cushions at your back, not quite willing to rise and face the day just yet. The beginning of a headache is beginning to pulse behind your eyes, making you curse Val and the numerous drinks she had made you share with her. 

Yet, even after the hours you had spent in her rooms, it was Loki who filled your dreams.

You can’t escape the bastard even while unconscious. 

That dream - that gloriously filthy dream - dances enticingly at the edges of your vision. You see Loki’s toned chest and feel the phantom touch of his lips against your skin. You hate him, yet you still give yourself over to the licentious thoughts swirling around your mind. You hate him, but surely that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little fantasy?

Your eyes slip closed at the same time you bunch the hem of your dress up. Perhaps all you need is some relief…

“Do you honestly plan on feigning sleep the entire day?” A familiar smooth voice speaks from somewhere behind you, but sounding so close that it makes you startle. 

The hand halfway up your thigh frantically yanks down the short hem of your dress, and you feel your heart begin to pound like a warm drum inside your chest. How long had the bastard been lurking? What had he seen?

What had he heard?

You remain where you are until the racing of your heart subsides to a steady thump, then push off the sofa to peer over at the small kitchen area of the Penthouse. 

Immediately, you wish you hadn’t. 

Loki is standing at the lime green breakfast bar tossing berries into his mouth, but it’s not that that catches your attention. In place of his usual tried and tested leather is - what you guess to be - the equivalent of a Sakaarian leisure outfit.

Or, at least, the bottom half of it. 

To both your delight and irritation he’s decided to forgo a shirt, leaving his chiseled chest on full infuriating display. 

You swallow the groan that’s threatening to bubble up your throat, but it’s impossible not to run your eyes hungrily over him. He’s a vain, spoiled little peacock, but there’s no denying that the man is beautiful. Loki looks like he’s been carved from marble, from his toned shoulders and biceps all the way to the deep V at the bottom of his defined stomach. He looks every inch the god he is and, suddenly, you’re struck with the need to run your tongue over every inch of him. 

Just how much did you have to drink last night? 

You’re so busy ogling the man who makes your blood boil that you don’t notice his gaze is on you until a second too late. Heat creeps back beneath your cheeks at the smug little smirk that tugs at his lips, and at the fact he caught you openly admiring him.

“Enjoying the view?” 

Loki’s smooth voice drips with so much arrogance it makes your lip curl into a scowl of disgust. This vain little peacock of a man is aware of his beauty, and while you have been enjoying the view of his naked chest, Hel will turn to ice before you ever admit it to him. Loki may be beautiful, but the heavy piece of gold pulsing warmly on your collarbone is an unwavering reminder that the man is like belladonna; beautiful to look at, yes, but dangerous to approach. 

“Try being repulsed at your lack of etiquette when a lady is present,” you sniff, making an effort to turn your nose up. 

Loki cocks one elegant eyebrow and runs his gaze over what he can see of your garish pink gown. “Forgive me, but is this lady in the room with us?” he replies, turning his eyes over every inch of the wide living area in a show of looking. 

His mockery makes you bristle and a familiar tingle begins at the tips of your fingers, though, with great effort, you keep your hands planted on the sofa because he’s right - out of both of you, you’re the one showing the most skin. 

With an obvious huff of irritation you reach for the slinky piece of silk that’s supposed to be a robe, carelessly throwing it around your shoulders and making sure that it’s pulled tight enough to cover your cleavage. You hear Loki chuckle quietly while you try to cover as much of yourself as is possible, and it only makes you want to bash his handsome face into the breakfast bar.

“Piss off,” you spit at him, clutching the robe tightly to your chest as you make your way to the kitchen. 

Loki doesn't move from the breakfast bar as you work around him, not even when you climb onto one of the high stools on the opposite side. It’s…unusual, given that he typically can’t escape your presence quick enough, and you can’t call to mind a single morning that you’ve eaten breakfast together. 

If that’s even what this is. 

You try to focus on slicing the vibrant purple fruit sitting on your plate, but you’re suddenly very aware that Loki’s naked chest is only inches away from you. Fleeting moments of your dream trickle through your mind, enough to make you wonder if that sculpted chest would feel as solid as it had in your dream, or if his muscular arms would feel as warm as they clutched you to it. Briefly, you flick your eyes to scan his biceps, feeling a little flip somewhere in your stomach when you notice the soft bulge of muscle.

It makes your traitorous mind drift to imagining how those muscles would strain as they pinned your wrists to the bed, and further still to what marks his teeth might leave on your skin. It makes you wonder… 

“You seem distracted this morning, Princess.” Loki’s taunting, smug voice weaves through the heady haze of lustful thoughts. It’s only then you notice the cerulean juice you’ve been pouring is dangerously close to spilling over the edge of the narrow glass. 

A silent curse takes shape on your lips and you hastily right the glass decanter, though you fear the damage is already done. The burning heat returning beneath your cheeks is evidence enough of where your thoughts had strayed, and he’s already caught you ogling him like some lovestruck peasant girl. 

But then an idea strikes. 

“Perhaps a little,” you answer and place a piece of fruit between your lips. “Didn’t you see who I spent a great deal of last night with? I think I’ve forgiven Val all her misdeeds, although she’s more than welcome to continue making it up to me.” 

You flick your eyes properly to Loki - grasping the opportunity to appreciate his half dressed state - and flash him a suggestive smirk. For the briefest of moments, you swear you see a flicker of jealousy dance in his green eyes, but it’s just as swiftly replaced by that familiar mocking gleam. 

“Fucking your way to the top? I didn’t think you had it in you,” Loki taunts. 

Against the cool marble of the breakfast bar, your fingers twitch and tingle, but you don’t rise to his jibe. “Isn’t that your modus operandi? I expect it took days on your knees to be granted these quarters, and I dread to think what the Grandmaster has you do to keep them. Don’t you have any self respect?”

Loki’s face is a mask of quiet fury and you watch the veins in his arms protrude as he grips the bartop. You will your gaze to stay trained on his face, but, in spite of your best efforts, it wanders easily to the exposed length of his forearms. Appreciative eyes drink in the evident strength rippling beneath his skin and your mind wanders again to thoughts of his stamina. He could likely last hours and not feel a thing, could likely toss you around like a rag doll and pin you easily to any bed.

And you’re disgusted to realise that you’d likely let him. 

“I have a great deal more than a princess who sells herself like a common whore. Perhaps you’d feel more at home in one of Sakaar’s whorehouses? Given my closeness to the Grandmaster, I’m sure it can easily be arranged,” Loki replies scathingly, once again using your own words against you. 

“I imagine the company would be more agreeable,” you bite back. “All those pretty men and women? Norns, Loki, you can’t even threaten someone properly. What a pathetic little man.” You jump off the stool with a simpering little laugh, praying to the Norns that your words are enough to throw him off the scent.

He’s vain and spoiled and full of a sense of his own importance. He’s rude and cold and downright unpleasant. 

Yet, in spite of all this, you can’t deny the obvious. 

You’re ridiculously attracted to him.

Join my tag list HERE

[wannab-urs]

Eat You Whole

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: An interplay between violence and love OR Dave shows up at your door looking half dead. WC: ~1400

Image disclaimer: The header is not meant to represent reader in any physical way. It’s more about the whole idea of dipping your tongue into a blood red fruit that has been cracked wide open. 

Content/Warnings: Love as violence; smidge of love as consumption; technically minor offscreen character death – not described in the slightest; Dave is severely injured and the injuries are described; aggressive kissing, blood, oral m!receiving (facefucking), hair pulling (reader has hair), pain kink, crying, spit/drool, rough sex, dom!dave kinda, no prep for reader, unprotected PIV (do better), creampie, reader and dave hit each other (but like sexually), marking, treatment of injuries. No use of Y/N. 

A/N: I really am blown away by the response to Ouroboros and was very inspired to continue the story due to your lovely comments! Technically can be a standalone. See endnotes for timeline explanation. Thanks to @beskarandblasters, @atinylittlepain, @idolatrybarbie, @theywhowriteandknowthings, and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me bounce ideas off you and sorry Kel, you got outvoted <3

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

If you must die, I’ll envy even the earth that wraps your body –Albert Camus

I even wanted to bruise him, so that he would not be able to forget me –Françoise Sagan

You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it. Kiss me hard enough to invert me –Yves Olade

He’s at the door. You know it’s him though it’s been 9 days since the last. Skin mottled more yellow than purple, torn flesh knitted back together, barely anything left of him on you now. 

He’s a lot worse off than you’d done to him. A bandage haphazardly wrapped around his head, covering his left eye and what you can see of his face swollen and bruised beyond recognition. 

You dance fingertips over his cheek bone where vibrant fuschia and buttercup yellow marr normally golden skin. He flinches away from you. Split lip, swollen, still a shine of deep red in the cut, curling into a snarl. 

You pull him inside by his shirt collar, kick the door shut. You’re furious. Sure hands sliding under his shirt, he grits his teeth as you pull it over his head. Now shaking hands trace the edges of a soaked gauze strip taped to wine stained ribs and he whimpers. Winces and trembles in a way you’ve never been privy to. He’s always taken stinging palms, digging claws, sinking teeth with little more than a growl. He’s never shown you his pain this blatantly before. 

And it terrifies you. His job has always existed as an abstract concept, something that maybe explains his bent toward brutality, but not something you talked about. The battered state of the man in front of you rips whatever wool had covered your eyes away and it is devastating. 

You could lose him. Nearly did. And you’d never have known what happened. This man who is both everything and nothing to you could be swept away with the ocean tide and you’d be left adrift. Wondering. 

You press a kiss to his collarbone. Soft. Maybe softer than you have ever touched him before. Certainly with more care. His breath is shuddering as he wraps his arms around you, cradling you to his chest. You’re afraid to lean into him for fear of breaking him – this man you thought invincible not two minutes ago. 

“Touch me, god damnit,” his voice rough as though he’d been screaming. Maybe he had. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, David.” You say it into his chest. Forehead just barely grazing the skin there. 

“Since when?” He grips you tighter, pulls you into him. His breath leaves his mouth in a huff like you gut punched him, but you feel his cock twitch against you. 

Sick fuck. You unbuckle his belt and stuff your hand down his pants. He’s achingly hard, leaking into his boxers. He fists your hair in both hands and drags your mouth to his. You taste iron as you lick into his mouth, bite down on his already split lip. 

You swallow his groans, you want to swallow him whole so that he can never come so close to leaving you again. Your fingertips dig in between his ribs reclaiming the flesh there. He is yours to tear apart, to put back together, and to dismantle all over again. Yours. 

Your lips drag down sucking your claim into his neck, his shoulder, his chest. You sink to the floor, drag his pants down with you so his cock springs out. You have to have him in your mouth. It’s a desperation bordering on delirium. You take him down to the very root.

Hands still fisted in your hair, he drags you off him only to thrust back in. No care for your need to breathe or the bruises he batters into your soft palate and no care for your teeth clipping his cock. Tears stream down your face unchecked meeting drool spilling from the corners of your lips and settling in the hollow of your throat. 

You think you could come like this, with him taking your throat and your hands wrapped around his thighs egging him on. He jerks you off of him with a guttural, almost primal yell, throwing you to the floor. He drops to his knees in front of your sprawled form.

“Take your clothes off.” Dominant even in such a supplicant pose, even when his features are etched with pain, his shoulders hunched as if to ward it off. You tear your shirt off, shorts and utterly soaked panties quickly following. 

He surges forward, sheathes himself inside you, and oh it hurts. He has torn you open and spilled your guts on the floor. Your wetness does little to ease the feeling of being split open like this. You bring your hands to his face, press your thumbs into his purpling cheek bones in retaliation. 

The snarl he lets out is feral, animal, but he crashes his lips into yours. He snaps his hips into you again and again, your moans and his broken, strangled cries mingling on your tongues. You drive a knee into his ribcage and he screams, rears back and slaps you across the face. You come instantly, writhing beneath him on the floor as your cunt seizes around him. His hips stutter to a stop as he comes deep inside you. He falls into you, covering and filling you completely. 

After an eternity or only a moment he slides off of you, not recoiling in his usual manner. His body still touches yours, legs tangled, his arm across your torso. He must have bled through the bandage on his ribs, your skin smeared red below his arm. 

“What happened to you, Dave?” Now he recoils. Rolls completely away from you and sits up, his back to you. You have to know. It’s burning you up inside. The fear. You crawl to him on your hands and knees. Tentatively, for fear of him running away, you reach out. Let your hand rest on his shoulder. When he doesn’t flinch away you run your fingers up his neck, into his hair, onto the bandage. 

You start to unwind it and he sits, statuesque, facing away. The fabric falls to the floor and he turns to look at you. There’s an empty space where his left eye should be. Crusted blood like smeared mascara below the gaping wound of his eye socket. 

“Fuck.” You whisper it before you can stop yourself. It’s grotesque. Brutalist.  

He jerks his head back around to face the wall, but you grip his chin and pull him back to you. You press the barest kiss to his left brow. “Will this happen again?” He shakes his head minutely. Whatever threat caused this has been dealt with. You feel like you can breathe for the first time since he showed up at your door.

Another gentle kiss. You’ve never been gentle with him or he with you. It puts a crack through your chest, the way his one brown eye clouds with something like longing.

You let go of his face and he drops his head into his hands. You stand and go to your bathroom. You do not stop to take stock of your marked skin in the mirror this time. Instead, you collect gauze, medical tape, bandages, rubbing alcohol, a needle and thread. 

This is not the first time you’ve needed it. Not when the darkest parts of you slither out to meet the darkest parts of Dave and you rend flesh from each other’s bodies. And this is not the first time Dave has shown up with the remnants of a job still on him. 

You kneel between his bent knees, peel the ruined bandage from his skin. You brush your lips down his chest and over the gaping chasm between his ribs.  His breath hitches in his throat. He slips a hand into your hair and pulls your mouth to his. Licks blood you for once did not draw yourself off your lips. No teeth clacking, biting, tearing – soft and plush lips pressed firm over yours. 

You clean the blood from his wounds. Rewrap his eye. Stitch the skin of his ribs while he grinds his teeth, a whimper falling out from behind closed lips. Another press of lips over new gauze.

When you’re finished you stand and tug his hair til he stands too. You kiss him softly before crossing the room and crawling into bed. 

He looks up at the ceiling and takes two deep breaths, taps his fingers on his thigh, and then he joins you. 

–------

Timeline notes: I’ve done some timeline fuckery. In Ouroboros, Robert has already loaded up Carol and the kids and taken them off to some safe house a few months before. Dave meets reader after that. This installment takes place after what is his SPOILER [Death Scene] in the movie, but he wins the fight. Barely. Robert meets the same fate that Dave did in the movie. 

Tagging people who seemed to like the first one! 

@pr0ximamidnight @gasolinerainbowpuddles @bonezone44 @catchallfangirl @heareball @cool-iguana @youmeand5bucks @morallyinept @janaispunk @ireallyreallylikeyourwriting @sin-djarin @toxicanonymity @rootytootyvoodooty @blackfemalenerd @axshadows @heavennumber2 @pedrostories

[toychest321]

(I wanted to apologize for my lack of activity on this page. I had so many plans for posts I wanted to make for Ramadan, but this past month has been so horribly stressful. Whenever I have time free from schoolwork I'm so incredibly burnt out I lack the motivation to post. Now there's barely any time left before Ramadan is over, even though there were other posts I wanted to make. I'll probably still make them in the future, though, and highlight Islamic culture through dolls however and whenever I can!)

With that said, I'd like to introduce you to the most recently-released Muslim doll, Umm Amirah!

As far as I can tell, Umm Amirah was released in February of 2023 by the company Allova, a family-owned company based in the UK.

While the name "Umm" literally translates to "Mother" or "Mother of", it can also be used as an additive prefix for whatever trait follows. "Amirah", meanwhile, means "Princess", so (as far as I can tell) her name roughly means "she who is like a princess".

And that name certainly fits! While her outfit is relatively simple (which makes sense, since her primary demographic is those aged 3-7), the sparkling tulle outer skirt shows that subtle princess-y influence!

The doll comes in pink and purple outfit variants, and comes with a prayer mat, a pink bag to carry it, and a pink hairbrush. She has fair skin, blue eyes, dark or blonde hair beneath her hijab, and 11 points of articulation! Umm Amirah's is meant to be a cultural education tool, and introduce the practice of Salah to children.

As I mentioned in a previous post regarding the Morning (Fajr) and Evening Prayers (Isha), Salah is the daily process of giving prayer to Allah. It is the second pillar of Islam, and must be done facing Mecca.

A couple of months ago in February 2024, Allova also released this Princess Fashion Set. While it's not an official Umm Amirah fashion pack, I still feel like it could somewhat be classified as such with its name and their doll used for modelling.

The pack comes with 6 dresses: pale pink with dotted skirt; pink with puffed sleeves and ruffle skirt; blue with silver detailing, top, and belt; a blue summer dress with white and yellow pattern; purple; and black and white with white flower buttons and a polka-dot skirt. It also comes with four headscarves in blue, lilac, black, and gold, 3 handbags (tan, white, and pink) , and 3 pairs of shoes (black, silver, and fuschia(?))

I obviously cant post for each outfit combination, but I would definitely say that the blue summer dress is my least favorite of those available. The material looks the cheapest out of those in the pack, its design is comparatively simple, and the pattern is sorta tacky. I feel like the central concept could've been executed better.

My favorite looks, though, would have to be:

The full black and white look sorta gives me girlboss vibes, like something she could wear at her desk writing articles or modeling for the cover of a magazine! The blue dress, meanwhile, is sooooo elegant, like she's going to a fancy party in the evening! My absolute favorite though would have to be the gold hijab with the pink frilly dress, which takes the "princess" part of Umm Amirah to a whole new level!

In spite of my thoughts on the summer dress of the pack, I'm in love with this doll and its outfits as a whole! It's been fun putting out this post I'd been meaning to make for a while. A lot of the Muslim dolls I've found, while impressive, unfortunately don't seem to be in production much in the current year, so it's nice to see there's still options available! If you're still looking for a potential Eid gift, I'd highly recommend getting her from Allova's website!

Ramadan Kareem!

[donatellawritings]

ON MY KNEES BEGGING TO KNOW HOW BFF!RAFE FEELS ABOUT LATINA READER GETTING DRUNK OR DOING COKE LLAPLSPLSPLS!!!!!

you were the prettiest girl at the party. all tipsy and glossy eyed, plump tits on full display as they bounced around in your skimpy triangle bikini, the fat of your plush ass cheeks poking out from underneath your lily pink juicy couture miniskirt as you pranced your way around topper’s backyard, dior kitten heels sporadically clicking against the cobblestone pavement. your bronze skin shimmered under the warm sun, shiny blown out hair flowing against the slight breeze as you found yourself topping your head back, the bff locket that rafe had bought you just a few weeks against glinting as the smooth shot of tequila slid down your throat.

you loved pool parties — even more so, now that you were able to properly debut the new fuschia diamond butterfly belly ring that dangled and shined with each sway of your hips.

scrunching your cute little button nose, you let out a shaky exhale, the burn of the alcohol now dull as you quickly shoved the bitter slice of lime between your shiny and swollen lips, “papito, that burned!” you whined with a short and breathy laugh, shuddering as chills ran across your warm body.

“yeah? told y’that s’gonna be your last one tonight, a’ight?” rafe tuts, gently pulling the now wilted slice of lime from your mouth, while swiftly removing the shot glass from your small hand, his gaze on you firm as you hold up your arms with forced pouty lips, “c’mon kid — can’t carry y’around right now,” he sighs, running a quick hand over his tight jaw.

rolling your eyes you poke out a wobbly bottom lip, your gaze unsteady as you stumble into rafe’s chest, “i thought y’were my best friend, papi!” you mumbled, completely obvious to the way your needy words made rafe’s stomach flip.

drunk and all, you always knew just how to get rafe to give into your every little stupid whim — so, you saved ‘papi’ for when things had to go your way.

gently grabbing you with a light pinch of your cherub cheeks, rafe looks you over, your dewy bambi eyes struggling to remain straight, “hey! cut it out, this is why i didn’t want y’drinkin,” his hand squeezes just a bit tighter, his brows furrowed as he watches fat tears well up at your waterline, “don’t start that cryin’, mama — i will take y’home,” he reprimands lowly, his bright blue eyes stoic and stern.

it was all too much for you. the blaring trap music, your tummy swirling, brain fuzzy from all the alcohol, and now your best friend was made at you? there was only so much that a delicate girl like you could take — so, all it took was that one empty threat to trigger the waterworks.

with a small sniffle, you take a quivering breath, “y-you’re mad at me?”

pursing his lips into a firm line, rafe shares a knowing look with topper who raises his hands up in surrender, “no, princess —”

“i just wanted t-to have so-some fun! m’sorry r-rafe,” you hiccuped, pulling your face out of rafe’s grip as you rushed to knuckle away your hot tears, your swollen tits jiggling with each uneven breath you took, “m’gonna g-go home by my-myself,” you heaved, your voice squeaky.

motioning towards you with wild hands, rafe shakes his head, defeated, at topper, “m’gonna take her crybaby ass home,”

ೀ

half awake, with the side of your soft cheek mushed against rafe’s shoulder, you kept your legs securely wrapped around his waist, semi-consciously wiggling your cute ass against his supporting hand. you couldn’t help yourself, rafe was so tall, and you were so pathetically drunk — you needed to be clung to him, and it warmed your pretty little heart.

“i looove you, papito,” you sang, pressing wet and sloppy pecks to the side of rafe’s jaw as he entered his bedroom with a relieved sigh. raising your heavy head off of rafe’s shoulder, you reach a dainty hand up to squish his cheeks together, with a sickeningly sweet giggle, “best friends forever, right?” you questioned, unfocused eyes all glazed and full of intense admiration.

letting out a sharp breath, rafe nudges your locket with his index finger — you were so out of it and loopy, rafe knew that he could say anything and you wouldn’t remember it, “always be y’best friend, until y’smarten up and be my girl. how does that sound, princess?” rafe smiles, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, his other still keeping you securely hoisted around his waist.

an exaggerated gasp leaves your faded glossy lips, “thought i was your girl already, papi?” you pouted, throwing your head back with a loud huff as rafe snakes a hand up to the back of your head, lightly pushing to get your teary gaze to meet his.

“no more cryin’, y’know exactly what i mean.” rafe reprimands gently, lowering you to stand on wobbly feet as you stumble backwards, “c’mon, mama — need y’to stand up just a little bit, yeah?” rafe grabs your elbow, his sober eyes set on you as you bite down into your bottom lip, far too deep in your drunken thought.

you loved your rafey and it broke your little heart to think that he believed otherwise — and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you needed him to know that you were his girl through and through.

“maybe you can make me your girl, one day?”

cocking his head to the side, rafe breathes out a nervous chuckle, reaching up to scratch at the nape of his neck, “yeah, sweet girl — one day,” he assured you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of you bouncing with utter joy, your shiny eyes beaming as you flop down into rafe’s bed.

letting out a sigh of content, your swollen lips ache from your stretched out grin, “m’gonna be your girl!” you cheer, your once drowsy state now turned to a hyper fit of excitement as rafe presses his lips to the top of your head.

[undead-supernova]

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't. / Masterlist

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

plot: aquamarine, moonlit swimming pool...what if........all I need is you?

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x bisexualfem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: slut shaming, body image insecurities, Eddie being too precious for this world, soft, comfort, reader is pretty girly and femme, so yeah

wc: 1.6k

“You know I want to be with you.”

“Oh yeah?” he said back, voice light and playful. His smirk was flooding his face, all well-intentioned and sugary sweet. 

“Mhm.”

The pool water lapped around you while he laid on his stomach, black towel underneath his shirtless figure. His fingers fiddled with yours to keep pulling you close to the edge. As you looked up at him, illuminated by the hot pink neon glow from your inner tube, you couldn’t help but swoon like a teenage girl. His hair appeared nearly fuschia, darkened by the shadows of the night and the reflection of the porch light behind him.

With a smug yet playful smile, he let out a hum before asking, “And why’s that, sweetheart?”

“Maybe I have a crush on you,” you said softly.

That smile turned into a smirk, his thumb running over your knuckles. You nearly blended in with the water, your turquoise bikini matching the color exactly. 

Usually, you wore a one piece to keep the world from commenting on whether your body looked good enough. It was hard enough to love your skin as it was—natural, textured. Stretch marks and cellulite. Scars from childhood mistakes. The exact opposite of whatever airbrushed magazine cover you or any of your peers were on, dolled up like plastic Barbies and whatnot. 

But he had gotten you this bikini. Stood you in front of a mirror and traced the outline of your waist and your tummy, chuckling whenever you quivered from his touch. Whispered how gorgeous you were in your ear. Reminded you that no one else was around. You were safe. 

(Even if his closest bodyguard, James, was standing outside his front door.)

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you mumbled, nodding.

“Had no idea,” he nearly whispered. 

It felt right to be quiet. The hot California air had finally cooled for the night, the neighborhood surrounding Eddie’s house seemingly devoid of human existence. The Los Angeles skyline skimmed the horizon only when you chose to peek above his fence. The illusion of seclusion when you pretend this was a guarded castle.

“I know. I hid it so well.”

“Exceptionally. You’re a master of deception.”

“Mm, thank you.” The two of you chuckled softly before you tried to gently clear your throat. “So are you going to keep teasing me or are you going to tell me how you feel?”

His eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to find something but couldn’t quite remember what it was. “You already know what I want,” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” you lied, praying your insecurity wouldn’t bleed through. “Which is why I want to hear it out loud.”

Scooting closer to the edge of the pool, he began to kiss your hands. 

“I.” Kiss. “Want.” Kiss. “To.” Kiss. “Be.” Kiss. “With.” Kiss. “You.”

You couldn’t help but smile. It felt like bliss, knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way. All the others were a jumbled mess of Maybe Later and Just Not Looking For A Serious Relationship Right Now. The girls wanted to play the field. The boys wanted something almost too casual. Those outside the gender binary would kiss and flirt at the bar and then ghost you on the dance floor. 

But he…oh, he was something else entirely.

“Do we go out on a real date now?” you asked. “Or do we just skip to the sickly sweet, hot and raunchy sex?”

“‘Hot and raunchy’?” he questioned, laughing at your word choice.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Sorry, was I not sexy enough for you the first six times?”

“Never said that, darling.” The nickname had you nearly kicking your feet with schoolgirl affection. “And to answer your question, I think I should take you on at least one proper date before I blow your back out again.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “After three and a half months?”

“As if we were honest about being official until a few weeks ago.” You couldn’t disagree with him on that. “Besides, it’s better late than never.”

“What a gentleman.”

And he was. 

Eddie Munson was nothing short of the nicest guy you’d ever liked. Maybe the nicest guy you’d ever met. He opened every door, from cars to hotels to bedrooms to the cages you'd thrown your heart into. When you left with him after your concert in Seattle, he sheltered you from the rain with his beloved leather jacket. He made you cum twice before he even dared to touch himself, worshiping your body like it was sculpted by the gods. Not to mention the homemade meals and the constant protection from the paparazzi whenever possible. He knew what the media had been doing to you. He hated it. Despised it.

And amidst it all, he still wanted you.

Even the mere thought of it still made you weep sometimes.

But Eddie’s smile began to falter. “What do you reckon the verdict will be when they see us?”

You knew what that forlorn smile meant. You knew what this was doing to him, but it felt like nothing compared to what the outside world thought. It had been done to Whitney. Amy. Rihanna. Britney. Miley. Lindsay. Megan. Lizzo. Taylor. Hell, even Olivia, Sabrina, and Billie were being given hell now that they were emerging into adulthood.

And now it was down to you. Another female popstar thrown to the goddamn wolves. 

Before you could think about how pessimistic it sounded, you said, “I’ll be labeled a slut and you’ll be considered a king. The cycle will only continue.”

The media were vipers. Predators. They wanted to hunt you down with cameras and watch you and Eddie Munson do something obscene. Vulgar. Just as his reputation had forewarned. The lead of a metal band (god forbid), along with the residual damage of “devil worshipping music” despite it not being the fucking Eighties anymore. However, in their storybook you were just the right kind of girl for him to corrupt.

He did anything but that.

“I don’t want it to be like that,” Eddie whispered, his eyes shining with the threat of tears. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” You shook your head, trying to clear all of the voices and camera flashes out of your head. “I don’t know. I just don’t want this to blow up in our faces.”

At first, the label was furious.

You were a cutesy role model for a demographic that you were not originally catering to. But the magnetic pull of a synthesizer flowed through you with the frizz of the vocoder and the glitter and the bright colors and advocacy and passion and the people— 

You were helping people. Especially the teenage girls. You were giving hope and guidance to them. Reminding them that they could achieve dreams far beyond their wildest dreams. Even if they were queer. Even if they weren’t thin. 

You were becoming an inspiration.

But after a while, you were seen as merely a PG-13 performer with all of the downfalls of being a woman, a popstar in her early twenties. Your life stopped being about you and started being about the narrative storyline of some fucking fairytale that you had no ability to write yourself, even if it was written in every song you released. 

It was sick enough knowing that people who didn’t know you would write books about you some day. 

But then you were seen at one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. Your music spiked on the charts despite the bizarre outrage at how different you were. The demographic your label originally wanted began to seep back in all in a matter of a few weeks. Back before you asked him about his feelings. Back before your confessions were frozen in the steam between you.

After that, the label wanted you and Eddie to play it up for the cameras. Stir up attention. Enjoy the ride, write the music, and then profit from the gossip columns and clout. Get more followers, more likes. Be endorsed by another fragrance subscription service or wireless headphones. 

Make them money. Risk your heart in the meantime.

It was a gamble, but why wouldn’t someone bet on a losing dog?

“Favorite Beatles song right now?” he asked, drawing your attention away from the world outside.

You grinned. “‘A Taste of Honey’.”

“Ah, from Please Please Me." You nodded. "Sometimes I forget how good their first album was.”

“You know, it’s incredible to me that you know their entire discography and yet I’ve never once heard you listening to them,” you observed.

Eddie winked at you, opening his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the meow of a cat. Both of you turned your heads to see his black cat, Oz, pawing at the back door.

“Someone wants a treat, the spoiled bastard. At least Puppet has manners," Eddie said with a sigh before looking back at you. "Why don’t you come back in with me, hm?” he asked, lightly stroking your cheek. "Throw a movie on and cuddle or something?”

“Can we?” you pleaded. “Please?”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything.”

He helped you out of the pool, grabbing a towel and drying you off. He finished up with a gentle kiss to your forehead, the inner tube left forgotten and floating in the water.

“Hey, Eddie?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Yeah? What’s up?” 

You could only wonder what it would be like if this didn’t end up in some fit of flames along the length of your graves. Caskets lying side-by-side, big fat crosses sitting on top like a pointed threat. His headstone littered with roses while yours drowned in spray paint. Eulogies and hymns crescendoing into a wave of madness as they repeated your fears back to you: Nothing lasts forever.

Or maybe you’d end up in a small house somewhere, making music together while you drowned out the rest of the world. One day where the chatter would flutter into a whisper and you could walk down the street of some coastal town and not get ogled at. The stars would align and you could say to yourself, It was worth it.

But it was only August, nearly swallowing you whole with the heat threatening to scorch your skin. Maybe yours more than his, but nevertheless there were going to be scars—  

You knew to love him was to lose your mind.

And maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“For once, I think…” A smile met your lips. “Well, maybe it’s worth it."

[heartfullofleeches]

C.c!! Best boy! Man? Demon!

Ok so - in this universe Incubi's eyes grow darker when detecting/feeling lost. Imagine berating him for some he did and his eyes just turn maroon.

-

"C.C...What did you do...."

Fuck. He really screwed up this time. Granted, hitting your coworker at thirty miles past the speed limit probably wasn't the best idea. It wasn't like he was purposefully waiting for the moment they walked across the street at a red light to use them as a human speedbump. Jay-walking is as much a serious offense as whatever he did - it even scuffed up his new paint. Oh - right, you're still talking. Geez, he's never seen you this upset. That grit in your voice. The disbelief and knowing anger in your harden glare.

It was kinda hot.

"My coworker in a coma, Saffron. You took five hours longer than you said you would've when you picked up your car. There's blood on your windshield. What. Did you do?"

C.C does anything to avoid your eyes - staring back at his own flushed expression in the mirror behind your head. The soft, milky fuschia of his irises percolates with a crimson blaze emanating from behind his pupils. He'd swear he'd just burst a blood vessel if not for the race in his chest. Fuck, this was hot. Why was this so hot? Your spit flares as you rise your voice and he all but sings as it - eyes a deep, garnet hue.

"C.C, just please tell me what happened. I don't want to think that you're a... a"

"A dirty bitch that needs to be taught a lesson?"

"What?"

C.C stalks towards you and grabs your wrist, striking himself across the face with the back of your hand. He giggles - tongue rolling crudely over your knuckles as his pale skin blushes from the hit. "I hit them. Bully me more. I'll be good next time if you punishment me right. I'll even pay for their stay! Please? Don't leave me hanging when things just got good."

[upsidedownwithsteve]

dad!Eddie Munson x fem!reader [0.7K]

“I really want a milkshake.”

You were whispering, almost nose to nose with the boy and you felt his huff of laughter fan over your cheeks, your lips.

“Really?” Eddie murmured back, just as soft, his hands curling over your waist and he shifted you closer to him, legs tangling warm beneath the sheets.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, nose nudging his now, his curls mixing with your own sleep mussed hair. “One from Jerry’s? Cookies and cream.”

The light that seeped in between the crack in the curtains bathed the bedroom in a warmth, the orange yellow glow making the corners of the small apartment bedroom seem cosier than they were. But there were mounds of blankets on the bed, too many pillows and Eddie ran like a space heater, so the January chill barely touched your bare skin.

“Extra large?” Eddie mused, his hand sneaking underneath your sleep shirt - his shirt - and curling around the swell of your tummy. “One big enough for both my babies, yeah?”

You were two months, almost three, your stomach protruding more than it had last week, firmer than before but barely noticeable under Eddie’s sweaters that you liked to steal. But your cravings were at an all time high, the need for sugar hitting you constantly, baby wanting something sweet no matter what time it was.

You groaned a little dirty, eyes closed and mouth curled into a smile, lips pressing to Eddie’s cheek in a kiss that he happily accepted. He pulled you closer still, ran a hand down your sleep warmed leg and hitched it to his hip, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He smelled like your shampoo, laundry detergent from the fresh sheets and spice. The lack of smokiness was something you were still getting used to, but as soon as the boy found out you were pregnant, he threw out every carton of cigarettes he could find in the apartment.

“Sounds real nice,” you hummed. “Like, really, really nice.”

“Is that a hint?” Eddie asked and you could hear the smile in his voice even though you couldn’t see him.

You curled a hand into his hair, carding your fingers through the strands and Eddie sighed happily, nipping sweetly at your neck, your jaw. “Maybe,” you whispered.

Eddie pulled back and pushed himself up into his elbows, his bare chest against yours as he leaned in for a kiss. He was all leftover toothpaste and Eddie, sweet and soft and warm. His gaze flickered to the digital clock on the nightstand, the red numbers flashing at him.

“S’almost two,” Eddie told you, voice mild.

You just curled two fingers into the silver chain that hung from his neck and pulled him back down to your mouth, lips sweet on his, this kiss softer and slower and full of a promise.

“Please?” You whispered against him. “Your baby wants something sweet.”

“Which one?”

You grinned, “both.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but it was all affection, one hand pushing at your jaw all fond so he could steal one more kiss out of you before he was rolling out of bed and shrugging on a shirt and sweats.

That’s how you ended up in the front of the car, knees pulled to you chest and socked feet on the chair. Eddie directed all the vents to you as the car got warmer, grumbling about how his van didn’t take this long to heat up but he smiled when you pouted.

“The van wasn’t suitable for a baby seat, Teddy,” you reminded him.

“You weren’t sayin’ rhat when we conceived the little devil in the back of it,” Eddie shot back but he was grinning and pulling out of the street, heading towards the truck stop outside of town.

The sign for Jerry’s diner was lit up in neon turquoise and fuschia, a beacon in the night and you clapped your hands when Eddie turned off the freeway, ignoring the way he laughed at you. But he gave you a kiss as sweet as the milkshake when he dove back into the car with it, hands cold from running across the lot

[demiesworld]

Can you write this?

Modern day Hantengu Quad Squad. College AU. The brothers are all in different classes but all are thirsting over the same girl who’s in some of their classes. They each try flirting with her, and she thinks she’s being hit in by the same guy numerous times.

【♛ demie: i like this idea it's super cute. idk if you listen to rnb songs, but this reminded me of the song "same girl" by usher & r. kelly.】

𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞?! [kny]

anime: demon slayer

characters: sekido, karaku, aizetsu, urogi, akaza (mentioned), douma (mentioned), kokushibou (mentioned), rengoku (mentioned), & muzan (mentioned)

contents: swearing, suggestive content, college!au, human!clones, afab!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns.

notes: the hantengu brothers are all 22 years of age. everyone mentioned in this is described as being human. yes i made the infinity castle as infinity academy bc why tf not? also i do not understand how japanese schools operate, formally, so i am trying my best to keep this as accurate as possible. peep the hints i throw in before each brother is revealed :)

click here for more quad squad series!

You are a new transfer student at the Infinity Academy and today was your very first day at your new school. You were a student at your current school's rival, Kimetsu Academy, however due to some unresolved complications with them, you had transferred over to Infinity Academy. So far you thought the new school was quite captivating especially with its students that attended it. You met the top three popular seniors of the academy, Kokushibou, Douma, and Akaza. They were assigned by the head of the school, Muzan Kibutsuji, to give you a tour of the buildings.

Kokushibou you could describe as an alluring young male. He had shoulder-length wispy black hair that changed into red at the tips. His piercing eyes were the similar to the color of your mother's favorite wine sangria. You in addition admired his beauty for his smooth ivory skin. In short, you thought of him as being virtually handsome.

Douma, on the other hand, possessed a captivating semblance that you couldn't discern. You didn't know if it was because of his physical looks or the charismatic pull he had. Either way, you were for the time being amazed with the young man. He towered above you, as did most men do, and would look at you with those what you would call prism irises. You were unable to call them a specific color since they appeared to shift from hazel to blue to green and you swore you saw them change into a shade of purple. His platinum colored hair was a standout too.

Akaza appeared to be a delinquent and bad news in your opinion, at least before you learned more about him. While he was shorter than Kokushibou and Douma, he made up for it in his muscular build. He had pale blue colored eyes that you initially thought were false contacts. The black denim vest he was wearing with ripped out sleeves exposed three thick black stripes on each forearm. Not only that he had vibrant fuschia-dyed hair complemented by matching color wispy eyelashes.

Your impression of Kokushibou was being quite reserved and reticent while he along with his upperclassmen showed you around. Though he did speak up when either of the two men gave you false or wrong information about things. He would also reprimand the two from bickering and causing a scene in front of you. In the midst of the tour, Kokushibou had to leave early due to a class he was required to attend as the teacher's assistant.

Then there was Douma who you thought of as suspicious with his outlandish stories that he was telling you. You didn't believe any of them. You perceived his personality as being apathetic, immature, yet positively gravitating due to his charm and approachable demeanor. Had it not been for his backhanded comment about your school attire you would have showed an interest in him.

Lastly was Akaza, or as Douma revealed to you Hakuji. He promptly told you to only call him Akaza whenever you'd see him. He was certainly the most tolerable out of the trio. Douma had told you that Akaza was a former student at Kimetsu Academy, like you, before he transferred to Infinity Academy during his second year. When you asked Akaza why he had switched schools so suddenly, after Akaza had fought with Douma over revealing it to you, he briefly stated it was because of his behavior. Which he didn't want to elaborate to you, and you didn't want to continue after that.

They were a pretty interesting trio.

As soon as your little tour with the three upperclassmen had ended, you were escorted by Akaza to your homeroom class. Douma left you two alone because he had "better and important" things to do. Which you two were thankful for, because Douma was exasperating. Akaza let you know that since you were a sophomore your classes would be held in a different building than theirs, and you wouldn't be seeing much of them after today. You told him you would be fine and watched him leave before walking into your homeroom.

You were greeted by an almost empty classroom, which you understood because you showed up just five minutes early before the bell even rang. There were a few students that sat in desks and were occupied with either their phones, doodling in notebooks, or talking in small groups. Plenty of empty chairs as well. You walked over to an empty desk, placing your backpack on the top of the desk.

The small group of students had stopped talking amongst each other to give you quick glances. You heard them being silent and gave them a side-eye glare, but didn't acknowledge their presence.

Just then a male student with shoulder-length wavy black hair and the finest of sun-kissed skin strolled through the threshold of the classroom. As he entered, he lifted a hand up to tap against the top frame of the door. He had his bag slung over his right shoulder, his arm unintentionally flexing his muscles because of the secure grip he had. A wide toothy beam was on his face as he went over to the teacher's desk and started to shuffle through the papers that were neatly aligned.

"Come on, I know you fucking graded my shit already teach'," the boy murmured to himself while continuing his aggressive search for whatever it was.

At that moment the homeroom teacher walked in holding a stack of papers in his hands. When he saw the male student at his desk, messing with his graded assignments, he sternly exclaims, "Hantengu!" The student flinches when he hears his surname being yelled and turned on his heel to face the teacher when he warns, "Get away from my desk, now."

The young male held a hand up in surrender and said, "Relax teach' I was just looking for my test from yesterday." He took a step away from the desk when the teacher was coming towards it.

"Your test isn't even on my desk, boy. I knew you would try to find it, so I hid it from you." The teacher took a seat at his chair and glared daggers at the guy. "You're gonna have to wait till fourth period, now go sit down."

After clicking his tongue then making a muttered comment about waiting till the end of the day, the male student turned his back to the teacher to go to his desk. Which was the same spot that he'd sit in during his fourth period class, and the spot you were now occupying. He stopped in his tracks when he saw his currently filled in seat. His eyes had a gleeful gander when he saw you there. He had to admit you were pretty damn cute in the black pleated skirt, black thigh-high socks, white low top sneakers, a nice snug cream collared shirt, and beige cardigan.

A sly smile came on his lips, "Well damn," he said aloud, the young male went over to sit in the empty desk behind you. When he walked past he made a flirtatious comment, "It's not even my birthday, but I got a nice piece of cake sittin' in my seat."

You turned around in the chair to face him with a pointed glare, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, sweet cheeks," He responds to you with a grin on his handsome face. "You must be new here then, because usually people don't sit in my seat."

Instead of antagonizing him about the nickname he just gave you, you crossed your legs and folded your arms to your chest. "And why don't people sit in your seat? I don't see a name on it."

He points up to the air vent that's directly above your head. "I get hot pretty quick, so I like to be 'neath the air vent right here." He puts his hands behind his head, reclining in the chair and facing up at the ceiling. "But you're fine sittin' right there, sweet cheeks, because after all," he lowers his head to look at you with a grin. "You're keepin' my seat warm 'nd I like the view."

You were flabbergasted by his attitude, but you couldn't hide the smile that was twitching on your face. You uncrossed your arms and leaned forward in the direction of this gleeful student. You ask, "What's your name Mr. Hantengu?" You use his surname as a way to tease him.

He rolled his eyes at you playfully and cracks into a smile when he hears your laughter. He likes it. "Don't call me that." He says, then adds, "My name is Urogi. What 'bout yours sweet cheeks?"

You tell him your name at the same time the bell rings the loud piercing dinging muffling your voice. Urogi was about to ask you to repeat yourself, but you turn around in your seat and face away from him. He pouts when he doesn't get to see your face anymore.

During the homeroom teacher going over the code of conduct, the academy's upcoming events, and other things that you weren't quite familiar with. You felt a tap on your shoulder and looked over it to see Urogi smiling at you.

You mouthed the word, "What?"

He murmurs, "I ain't bring a pencil with me today do you have one?"

What kind of student doesn't bring a pencil out of all things to school? Apparently Urogi does since he doesn't have one and is asking you for a spare. You were about to tell him "no" but he gave you a pleading stare. You fell for it and begin to dig through your own backpack for a spare pencil.

"I can't believe you just show up to school of all places without a pencil. Talk about being unprepared." You quip before handing him a pink mechanical pencil.

Urogi says as he grabbed the pencil, "Hey for your information, I do bring pencils to school," He then adds, "I just forgot to put my school stuff in my backpack this morning."

"Why were they not in there?" You wondered with a slight chuckle. You found Urogi to be quite the comical person, he was like a character in your opinion.

"I use my backpack as a gym bag." He said bluntly then presses down on the eraser to eject the lead. It was then he finally noticed that the pencil you had given him was pink. "What the- why the hell did you give me a pink pencil?"

"It was the only one I had in my bag," You lied. You actually had a pencil case with tons of other colors in your bag. You just thought of a masculine man like Urogi walking around with a pink pencil would be silly.

Urogi goes to argue with you about it, but you turn your back to him and ignore him during the rest of the class period. As soon as the class comes to an end, you are gathering your things and standing up from your seat. Urogi is doing the same as you.

"Well," you sigh, "I guess this is where we part ways, Mr. Hantengu." You sling your backpack over your shoulder mimicking Urogi's posture.

Urogi chastises you, "I told you not to call me that," He then rolls his eyes at how you're copying him. "You're such a little tease."

You cover a giggle with your hand then walk away from him. Urogi stood there for a moment just to watch you walk. Your hips rotating with every step you took. He knew that this school year with you would be fun. Especially since you were a new piece of eye candy. One that he hoped to snag a date with.

You read what class was next on your schedule and you let out a groan when you saw it was calculus. Of course it had to be that. You absolutely despised calculus since it was a difficult subject for you. The walk to your designated class room was dragged on because you weren't keen on attending it. But you had to, or else you'll be in trouble on your first day at this new academy.

You crossed through the threshold of the classroom's door and made a bee-line to an empty seat. The desks were aligned into three rows of five. In the upper right corner of the room beside the closed curtained window was a head of black wavy hair laying on top of a navy blue backpack. You opt to take a seat next to the person on their right.

From the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of the person's face. You furrow your eyebrows confusedly when you saw that it was Urogi sitting there next to you. If you remember correctly, you did leave the homeroom class before him. Though when you went to get a good look at their face you saw that his features were a bit softer. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully too. His lips were slightly parted as light snores came from him. It didn't make sense to you because Urogi was definitely wide awake and talkative during homeroom class.

You then had a hunch he was doing this to annoy you. You did had the impression that Urogi was a playful individual. So without a second thought you took a hold of the backpack and snatched it from underneath his head. With a thud his head hit the table and he jolted up in his seat.

"I'm awake!" He yelped, and then looked at his surroundings. He looks to his left, and then to his right. He sees you holding his backpack in your grasp and surprisingly he asks you in a soft voice, "I-I didn't sleep during the whole class again did I? Oh... that's so embarrassing." he covers his face with his hands.

You snicker at his confusion, and you revealed, "You didn't sleep through the whole class. You still have like three minutes before the class begins." You return to him back his backpack.

He takes the backpack and slides it in between his legs underneath the desk. "Oh... well I guess that is nice to hear." He sighs, and griped, "I just wish the school day would be over already. The fact that my first period class is this is absolutely dreadful."

You snort, "You and me both buddy."

There was something odd about Urogi. He was lacking that cheerful strong tone and instead had a somber soft voice. You didn't point it out though. You just assumed that maybe calculus was as much as his least favorite subject as it was yours. Then again calculus class couldn't possibly change a whole person's attitude right? ...Or could it?

You ignore the now sorrowful Urogi and go to focus on your attention on the class beginning. The teacher saw that you were a new student and asked that you introduce yourself to the class. To which you did, you stated your name and the previous school you had came from. Some people raised eyebrows when they heard you say you originated from Kimetsu Academy. Their rival school.

In calculus class, the teacher had given each student including you, a worksheet with formulas to answer. Once the teacher told you all that this worksheet would be timed and based on how many correct answers you got you had all started on it. The teacher did mention that a classmate could help a classmate.

You saw "Urogi" reaching into his backpack and take out a wooden pencil. You narrow your eyes at him and sneer, "You're such a liar." He turned his head to you with a bewildered expression and you continued, "I gave you a pencil during homeroom when you had one this whole time!"

He had a frown on his face as he answered you, "You did not... give me a pencil."

You curled your lips at the male and turned your attention to the worksheet that you needed to complete. He stared at you still confused. As far as Aizetsu knew, he never met you and didn't see you in his homeroom class at all. He looks down at the worksheet he was given; the formulas on the page was intimidating to him. He winced when he saw the numbers on the page slowly shift and jump around. He brought a hand up to his hair, and started pulling at his locks.

You could hear some grunting come from the man beside you. You gave him a side-eye while he was reading the piece of paper almost fearfully. His teeth were clenched, eyebrows furrowed, and a frown was on his lips. He looked pitiful compared to the charismatic man he was earlier.

While you weren't entirely good at calculus, you did recognize the formulas shown to you and could do them. You figured that Urogi struggled worse than you. A part of you wanted to just ignore him and let him suffer, however that sympathetic conscious you had seemed to overpower.

You sighed reluctantly as you scoot your desk closer to him and slam a hand on his paper. "Which one are you having problems with?" You questioned. Aizetsu glanced at you and you looked down at his paper. You emphasized, "You didn't even fill the first one out?"

He flinches, "Please don't yell at me," he then adds in a soft murmur, "I already get yelled at enough from Sekido."

You don't catch what he says rather you help him with his worksheet while at the same time completing yours. You only assisted him with the problems that you were familiar with and left him with the rest of the questions.

"Thank you..." he says softly to you, "For helping me with this. I have a learning disorder and things like this are hard for me."

You want to just pull him in for a hug and tell him it would be okay. To give him comfort. For him to reveal to you of his learning disability, you thought it was peculiar since you don't know him very well. However you chose to again ignore it. You suck your teeth and dismissively wave a hand to him. "No need to thank me. I just didn't want to see you struggle by yourself."

Aizetsu was surprised by your honesty and your kindness. It was normal for most people to reject helping him with calculus. The teacher would offer help the best they could however they couldn't just do it all of the time. Thus that left Aizetsu struggling with answering the equations all on his own. It was people like you who made him think that maybe there are nice people out there. You were admirable.

He lets a smile grow on his face, "Well you are rather kind."

You brush away the butterflies that you get in your stomach. He was admittedly cute the way he was acting with you now. You scoot your chair away from his desk to give him room. Soon enough the class ended, putting an end to both of your disdain for it. The bell rang signifying the conclusion, and you start to gather your things.

"E-Excuse me... I was wondering if maybe you'd... well... would you be interested in tutoring me with this?"

You look over your shoulder to see him standing there looking hopefully at you. Your eyes look him up and down, and Aizetsu felt as though you were going to ridicule him. He shifts his feet nervously, anticipating for you to reject his request. You surprise him again when you tell him yes.

"You will?" He asks.

You nod your head and respond, "I will give you my phone number so we can set up a time and place where we can do it." You take out a strip of paper from your backpack and write down your phone number along with your name to give to him.

Aizetsu delicately takes the paper away from you with a shy yet appreciative smile on his face. He goes to speak, but you interject, "That doesn't give you the right to bombard me with messages. Do you understand?" You point a finger at him.

He shake his head and stammers, "I-I won't do that to you. I promise."

You just grunt then walk away from him. He watches as you exit the classroom as he stands there holding onto the piece of paper written with your phone number on it. This was new for him. He had never achieved in getting a girl's phone number by himself before. He'd had to rely on Urogi or his older brothers for that. Aizetsu neatly folded the paper into a square and safely put it into the zipper pocket of his backpack.

As you were in the hallways of the building you read which class was up next for you. General chemistry. Nice another class that you definitely struggled in. Chemistry to you was similar to math. It involved numbers, letters, and most importantly you were dealing with elements. You roll your eyes, following the map to the classroom. The room was located on the third floor, so you had to walk up three flights of stairs just to get there. That was just strange. Who would keep a chemistry class on the top floor of a building? Didn't they know a thing about fires?

You cross through the threshold of the door into your second period class. As you take a seat at a vacant desk you see that there is a backpack with a leaf keychain sitting beside you. You hear the sound of a man laughing, and look at where it's originating from. You see him again. What the fuck? Does he have like every class with you or something? He's apparently laughing at something a girl is saying to him and for some reason this irks you.

You won't admit that you're jealous that "Urogi" is showing another girl attention. You refuse to. Your pride is way too high. Plus you've decided that he is no longer worth your time.

He says good bye to the girl at the classroom door before going over to the seat that is next to yours. Just great. You managed to sit beside him out of all people, and now you couldn't move because the other seats were being filled up. Looks like you'll have to endure his presence during this class. Hopefully this will be your last time seeing him for the day.

Karaku shakes hands with his male classmates, and winks at the female students. He knew he was a total flirt, but he didn't actively pursue a woman. In his belief, the right one would fall right into his lap when the time is right. That's why when girls would come up to him with love letters and confessions he would have to turn them down. He was popular among the women. Even the female teachers had somewhat of an attraction to him.

He was an handsome young man. He had long wavy black hair, tan skin, and a body that people described as being sculpted by the Greek gods. Plus he was the tallest out of all of his brothers. He stood at a towering 6"2' packed with beefy muscles. His smile was what brought out his looks since he had canines. Just recently he had gotten a tongue piercing to amplify his charm.

The young tan male took a seat next to you, not paying you attention and went out to take out his notebook for Chemistry class. This agitated you and you sneered, "You should give me back my pencil and my phone number you damn jerk."

Karaku thought you were talking to someone else and didn't respond to you. Although when you say, "Hey you asshole, I'm talking to you." he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes you can," you snapped, "I want my phone number and my pencil that I loaned you. If you're such a big hot shot around here then you don't need any part of my help with tutoring." You stuck out your open palm up hand expectantly.

He thought this was just a game to test him. He played along and leaned in close to your face, "What if I don't want to give it away? I think I earned the right to keep it."

You start to fume and you groan frustratedly into your backpack. He just chuckles at your reaction, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back in his chair. Karaku didn't know who you were, but there was something about your attitude that attracted him. You were feisty and he liked that. Most girls would throw themselves at him, but you didn't do that.

Albeit he was confused about why you were hassling him about a pencil and phone number. He never met you until now!

The chemistry teacher began teaching the class and showing you all how to add compounds. As you were listening to the lesson, Karaku nudged you with his elbow. He asks in a whisper, "You never told me your name stranger."

"You already know my name you idiot. We're in the same homeroom and first period!"

"No I don't. I don't even remember you."

Did this guy fall on his head or something? Was he dropped at birth? Also why in the hell did he keep changing clothes? Why was his voice changing was he going through puberty again?

For the second time, you guessed it was, that day you were flabbergasted. You knew that Urogi knew who you were, and he kept playing around with your mind like this. If you knew he was a pathological liar with apparently a short-term memory you would have avoided being interested in him. You wouldn't have loaned him your pencil and given him your phone number out of the kindness of your heart.

You snarl, "I want for you to remember this. If I ever see your face again, things for you are going to get nasty."

"Ooh~" He then remarks, "I never would have guessed a pretty thang like you would be into that." His eyes openly ogle at your figure. "Then again that skirt and those thigh-highs you're wearing tell me everything I need to know."

Your face heats up as you lean away from him. Following that you implore, "What do you mean by that?" your voice trembling just slightly.

Karaku has this sly toothy grin on his face. You could see the sharp teeth he had as well as the brief flicker of his tongue piercing. In a low smoky voice he answered, "Easy access."

Throughout the rest of the duration of class you focus your attention onto the lessons the teacher was showing you. You didn't say another word to the man that was sitting beside you. Even as he was unknowingly flicking out his tongue when he was fixated on writing notes into his book. You could smell his cologne and he smelled so good. He smelled like a roasted peach and honey. Your eyes glance at the prominent veins in his hands and arm. His fingers were long and nimble.

No you couldn't be finding him sexy. You were pissed at him!

Karaku takes a deep breath then releases it, his strong firm chest rising and falling in the fitted two tone henley shirt he wore. He slithers out his tongue and thoughtlessly wiggles it around. You were just so happened to be watching him, and he just so happened to see you from the corner of his eye. When your eyes met, you jolt and look away meanwhile he just smirked and scooted his chair closer to yours.

"Listen pretty girl, if you just want a chance with me all you have to do is ask. I will definitely make it worth your while." He places his hand on your knee, what a bold move on his part.

Though you don't buy into his act. Urogi can be a pathological liar with short-term memory loss and a damned flirtatious pervert all his life if he wanted to. You, on the other hand, was not going to be a victim to his charades.

You swat the hand that was on your knee with yours. You threatened him, "You touch me like that again, and I will suffocate you."

Karaku thought you set yourself up for what he had to say next because what you just said to him was an open door. For him to respond, "Suffocate me? Let's be honest babe, if you suffocate me with those thighs of yours, I think I'll die a happy man."

Abruptly, the teacher told you all to begin packing your things as the next bell was going to ring soon. You start to do just that. Anything to get away from Urogi and his advances. To refrain from seeing his handsome face and hearing his painfully deep sensual voice. You hop out of your chair at the same time the bell does go off. In a rush you dash out of the chemistry classroom and dart down the staircase to get to the second floor of the building. You were panting by the time you made it there. You reach into your bag to grab your schedule and your third class before your lunch break started was global history.

This was a class you could enjoy. As it talked about what you knew best which was in fact historical events from many countries. This would be your last class before your lunch break. You could do this. You read the map and luckily the classroom was located on the second floor. Great. You didn't have to be running a marathon up and down stairs.

You make your way to the classroom, you felt drained already and the day wasn't completely over yet. You begin to wonder if maybe Douma was as insufferable as Urogi. Sure, the senior student did make that backhanded comment earlier about your outfit. However, his personality was nothing in comparison to Urogi. Who, in fact, must have split personalities! Because how can someone go from being happy to sad to a flirty bastard? Also the nerve, the audacity he had to touch you on your knee like that during chemistry class! How rude.

Once again you remind yourself that this is just the third period before your lunch break. As you enter the classroom you greet the teacher that is sitting at the desk with a friendly nod and wave. You inform them that you were a new student to the school. They welcome you and ask if you were comfortable with introducing yourself when class begins. You agree to it, and then go to find yourself a seat. Unlike this time you take a seat in the center of the room rather than in a corner.

Like routine, the classroom fills up with students and you think to yourself that you won't be seeing Urogi again. You were wrong. After you had introduced yourself to the class, the teacher shortly announced there would be an assignment you all had to do in pairs. You watch as student after student found the other half to their assignment. Meanwhile you were left alone. Your eyes scan the classroom for anyone, and then you froze.

What the absolute fuck?

There he was again! He changed clothes again, and this time he didn't look to pleased to see you either. He had this scowl on his face when your eyes met his. Your mind was racing with thoughts as to why he could be so pissed off with you.

Was he angry that you rejected his advances? No, no one should look at a person as if they hated every fiber of their being like this. The way he was glaring at you seemed like he wanted to destroy you. Or was this another trick he wanted to play with you since you were after all the new student to this academy? You convince yourself that that must be it. Urogi was behaving like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, simply because you were just a new student. One minute he's a happy clam next he's a sheepish fool then he's a flirty perverted bastard, and now he was a bitter man. You come to the conclusion, that maybe it was tradition for new students to suffer pranks from him.

You weren't going to be sucker for his shenanigans.

You match the energy that "Urogi" was giving you now. Your face also changed from a look of fear to one of annoyance.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" He grumbled.

You shrug your shoulders walking over to the empty seat beside him and tossing your backpack onto the surface of the desk. "I don't know, Hantengu, are you going to keep following me around like a damn fly?"

Sekido didn't know how you knew of his surname, but then again he and his brothers were quite the popular guys at Infinity Academy. He suspected that you must be one of Urogi's or Karaku's little playthings. Though you had guts to call him out of his name as other students didn't do that to him. Let alone talk to him because of his callous and blunt personality.

"What the hell are you talking about woman?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't play dumb with me you jerk. First I give you a pencil when you already had one, then you keep my phone number, and you had the balls to feel on me during the last class we had together." You let out a scoff, "You're a real piece of work."

The male next to you grunted, "You're either on drugs or you lost your mind. I'm just going to assume you've lost your fucking mind, because who do you think you are talking to me like that?"

"Who do you think you are you psychopath!" You shout in a hushed tone.

Sekido growls, "I'm going to ignore you. This is just childish and pointless arguing with an imbecile like you. I'm better than that."

You now conclude that Douma was more tolerable than "Urogi" was.

The two of you sit in silence in the classroom, just working on the assignment that the teacher had given you. This was a stressful first day at a new school for you. You let out an exhausted sigh as you rub your temple, feeling a headache like no other swelling in your head. From the corner of his eye, Sekido noticed your pained expression and uncomfortable posture next to him. His eyes drift down to his backpack resting beside his feet and he remembers that he carries headache relievers whenever a migraine of his comes around. Even though you and him don't know each other, and most definitely got off on the wrong foot, Sekido's sympathetic heart couldn't bear to see you in discomfort.

You were startled when something was slammed down on the desk in front of you. A large veiny hand covering a small object before it moved away to reveal a white pill container. The brand on it was one you recognized as being used to relieve headaches. You turn your head to "Urogi" next to you, a look of shock on your face.

He curled his lips at you and folded his arms across his chest. "Take it or leave it." He grumbles.

You wanted to just sass him for speaking to you rudely, but then again you did have a headache and while he was being an asshole to you. He was generous enough to let you take a pill to get rid of your headache. So you did the smart choice of opening the pill bottle and poured two red tablets into your hand.

"Let me guess you don't even have anything to drink either?" Sekido asked you, and he grunts when you look at him with a sheepish smile. Coming to the rescue once more, he takes out a room-temperature bottle of water out of his backpack and not-so-delicately placed it on the table in front of you. "You're welcome." He said.

You took the pills along with the water and handed the pill container back to him. You were going to return the water bottle as well, but he immediately told you, "Are you dumb or something? I don't need that back! You keep it!"

"I didn't even touch it with my lips-"

"Doesn't matter. I gave it to you, so keep it." Sekido huffs.

You murmur a timid, "Okay," and take a sip of the water. Afterwards, Sekido seizes your worksheet and looks at it. You go to take it away from him, but he holds a hand out to your face pushing you away. His narrowed eyes reading over the questions you had completed. He growls as he squeezes the sheet of paper in his hand.

He hisses, "This... the answers you've written for these questions are wrong." He tosses the paper back in front of you and scoots his chair closer to yours. He points a finger at one of the odd numbered questions you answered. "It's 1918 when the Spanish flu devastated Japan, not 1819. And this, is not the correct emperor of Japan during the Taisho era. The emperor was Yoshihito Taisho. It's literally in the name, damn it."

As he was continuing to show you the correct answers, you sat there gawking at him and was admiring him. While you did have to admit "Urogi" was handsome, but with how close he was to you now you could see the small details he had on his face. Long thick eyelashes, pointed nose, bold eyebrows and a stronger chiseled jawline that flexed each moment he clenched his jaw. Not to forget he had gorgeous tan skin. You could smell a light hint of cinnamon emanating from him.

You were so lost in staring at him that you didn't see him stop lecturing you until he snapped his fingers in front of your face. "Huh?" you sounded.

Sekido frowns, "Did you not listen to a word I said? I corrected your work for you, woman."

Your eyes look down to the crumpled sheet of paper that was now covered in red corrective marks and then back to him. Shockingly, at least to Sekido, you kindly smile at him and say, "Thank you for your help."

He grunts, "I'm helping you out because I don't want to get a bad grade on this assignment."

"You know you don't have to make excuses and reasons to justify your actions. If you're doing a kind act out of the kindness of your heart, then an explanation isn't needed." You then add, "I guess I should say I'm sorry for acting mean towards you too today. I didn't mean to yell and insult you like that. I was irritated because you took away a pencil, my phone number, and flirted with me during our last few classes."

Sekido's eyebrows raised and he whispers, "Last few classes?"

You either ignore it or you don't hear it. Either way you continue, "So you can keep my phone number and my pencil if you really want it that badly. Though I think pink makes you look silly, Urogi." You giggle.

'Urogi?' He thinks.

The bell rings signifying the end of the third period class and your lunch break. You gather up your belongings and wave goodbye to "Urogi" before you exit the classroom. Sekido feels butterflies in his stomach as he watches you walk away. While you were in his eyes a hothead for arguing with him, he knew you had a soft side and now he believes that he has one too. He gathers his things and makes his way to the cafeteria.

On his way there he grouped up with his brothers in the hallway. Each of them looked to be in a good mood. Shockingly, Aizetsu was smiling as he walked with a perk in his steps. Sekido grunts as he lead the other three to the cafeteria.

"...You should have seen her Karaku, I think you really would have liked her. She had the prettiest sparkling eyes. Her body is a literal work of art. Like Leonardo Dicaprio made it himself." Urogi told his identical twin, his arms folded behind his head as they walked.

Aizetsu interjected, "I think you meant Leonardo Da Vinci, Urogi."

"Whatever 'Zetsu. Why do you look so happy anyways? You're usually in a more sour mood like Sekido." Urogi grins when he hears the eldest brother huff and sees distance himself from their group.

The blue-eyed quadruplet softly says, "Hm, well... I-I got a girl's p-phone number?"

"What?!" Karaku and Urogi both exclaim.

Karaku points a finger at Aizetsu, "You? You got a girl's phone number and without our help? How?!"

Urogi snickers, "I bet he probably paid to get her number."

"Y-You're wrong! She gave her number to me and I didn't even have to ask her."

Karaku awes, "No way..." he smirks proudly at his younger brother and folds his arms across his broad chest, "Well I'll be damned Aizetsu. Looks like you do have that dawg in you."

Urogi disagrees, "He don't have shit. I betya' he's lyin' and this is all in his scrambled head."

While the three of them bicker with each other, Sekido calmly piles food on his tray at the buffet bar. His brothers follow suit, but still carried on with their conversation.

"Was she in one of your classes Aizetsu?" asked Urogi while he took a bowl of beef curry onto his plate.

Aizetsu nods his head and hums, "Yes. She was in my first period class this morning. When she woke me up, she claimed that I stole her pencil during homeroom class, but I don't even remember seeing her in there." He places a scoop of rice on his tray.

Karaku implies with a grin, "You're always sleeping during your morning classes so I bet 10 out of 10 you were asleep."

"I only sleep during my first period class Karaku."

As the four of them were done getting their food, Urogi turned to Aizetsu and asked, "If she's right here in this cafeteria point her out."

The second youngest of the brothers looked out into the crowd of people in the cafeteria. Aizetsu's eyes searched for you in the midst of the room. His lengthy time it was taking to find you made his brothers suspicious of his claim.

"Aizetsu," Sekido growls, "If you think this is funny-"

"There! There she is! That's her!" Aizetsu shouted excitedly, and he pointed his finger in your direction.

The brothers all look to where he's pointing and yes. It was you. The girl from Urogi's homeroom class. The girl from Karaku's chemistry class. The girl from Sekido's global history class. It was you. A girl that gave their pathetic brother Aizetsu their number.

"Her?" Urogi exclaims.

"Her?" Karaku questions.

"Her." Aizetsu sighs.

None of the brothers, beside from Sekido, could have figured out what was going on. The eldest of the quadruplets knew. Now he understoof why you yelled at him during global history class. You were in Urogi's homeroom when you gave him a pencil, saw Aizetsu in your first period when you gave him your phone number, then met Karaku in second when he was flirting with you, and lastly you met him and you assumed Sekido was all three men combined. You most likely didn't come to the fact that they were all quadruplets. This all made sense to Sekido now, why you called him Urogi before you departed earlier.

This was going to be great because not only did his younger brothers have a crush on you, so did he! He just didn't want to admit it. Sekido scoffs and turns his head away from your direction. His brother, Aizetsu, carries his tray with him while he shuffles to your empty table. His three brothers following closely behind him.

Aizetsu greets you, "H-Hi Y/N."

You look up from scrolling on your phone and to Aizetsu standing there not noticing the other men behind him. "Oh it's you again... and you changed back to your first period's clothes."

He frowns at your words, "I've been wearing this all day."

That's when you say with a snide, "Uhh...no you have not? Each class we were in you would change your clothes and act like a totally different person."

That's when the other brothers emerged from behind Aizetsu and they were looking at you pointedly. You finally notice them and your heart pounds when you see that every "Urogi" from your classes was its own person. There's "Urogi" from homeroom, the "Urogi" from chemistry, and the "Urogi" from global history. You stand up from your seat and pointed a shaky finger at all four of them. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach.

"W-What... so there's four of you Urogi?"

The real Urogi shrugged his shoulders and wiggles his hand while saying, "Eh... yes and no. Yes because they are all my older brothers and we're quadruplets. No, because they're all nothin' compared to the original." He grins.

Karaku adds, "And our names are all not Urogi. I'm Karaku." He delicately takes a hold of your hand placing a gentle kiss on the top of it. A sly smile on his lips, "It's nice to meet you."

The blue-eyed sibling introduced himself, "I'm Aizetsu,"

Then Sekido grunted, "Sekido."

You break out into a nervous fit of laughter as you stood there with your hand still in Karaku's hold. You blurted, "Ahaha! You've got to be joking! I don't want to believe it, but it's right here in front of me. S-So you're all brothers?!"

Karaku chuckles, "You got that right babe!"

Suddenly you could feel yourself getting weak and your skin becoming clammy. Sekido sensed it first because he told Karaku, since he was still holding your hand, to catch you before you fell. You did. You fell right into Karaku's arms, unconscious after the reveal of Urogi just being a quadruplet. The brothers, mainly Aizetsu and Urogi, fret over what to do with you. Sekido ordered them all to go to the nurse's office with you being carried in Karaku's arms. Urogi was jealous that he got to do it and not him.

He was also irritated that he found out, while you were unconscious, all of his brothers had an interest in you. All of them, including Sekido, which was strange to Urogi because he thought Sekido was virtually unsociable. It just wasn't fair, it wasn't right. He had met you first, and he had first dibs on you. Had they ever heard of the bro code? Apparently not.

"Oh I feel terrible that she's like this because of us. Do you think she's ever going to wake up? Poor thing." Aizetsu was worried for your wellbeing as he stood the closest to the cot you laid in and stroking your hair.

Urogi clenches his fist at Aizetsu and snarls, "You get your hand off of her! Don't touch her like that! She's mine!"

As soon as he heard that, Karaku objected, "Sorry to burst your bubble Urogi and 'Zetsu, but she's mine." He then adds, "She would want to be with a real man, not with a little kid."

"We're the same age you idiot!" Urogi yells at him.

"Didn't Sekido mention that she said you were inappropriately touching on her during class?" Aizetsu recalls and then he continues, "I think she is deserving of someone who will be gentle with her rather than an inconsiderate pervert." He side-eyes his older brother.

"Why you-"

Sekido interrupts Karaku by hitting him with a backpack. Then he repeats the action to Urogi and Aizetsu. Aizetsu whines in protest since he didn't actually get hostile like the other two. Sekido growls at for them to shut up and pointed out that you were waking up on the bed. They all turned their attention to your figure, stirring on the bed and your eyelids fluttering. You opened your eyes to see the four of them surrounding you on the bed.

You let out a sigh and cover your eyes with your arm. You lament, "How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes." Sekido answered you.

"...So you're all quadruplets?" You changed the topic and go to sit up, but Aizetsu told you to just take it easy. Your eyes look at each one of them for the first time and see that they did had their differences. You see that Aizetsu had blue eyes, Karaku's eyes were like a green color, Urogi's eyes were hazel almost golden, and Sekido had a red undertone in his dark eyes. Urogi and Karaku looked the most similar so you assume they were identical twins.

Karaku responds to your question, "Yeah we're quadruplets, but me and Urogi here are identical twins. The rest of us are fraternal."

You nod your head then sit up on the bed again. You feel slightly better than before. "So..." You heard Urogi say, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Just as they were going to chastise him, you promptly replied with a happy smile, "Yes, I do have a boyfriend!"

"What?!" The quadruplets exclaim.

"He goes to Kimetsu Academy, though, he doesn't go to this school of course. I plan on seeing him after my day is over." You explain to them while getting out of the bed and grabbing your backpack. "You can keep my number, Aizetsu, if you ever need help with calculus."

The brothers are appalled to find out that you had a boyfriend. This whole time you were a taken woman. They watch you leave and then decide to go about their day. It was hurtful for them to have to respect your relationship despite being so enamored with you. It was also even more painful when they discovered that afternoon your boyfriend was none other than Kyojuro Rengoku.

What a pity.

notes: this is finally finished! omg this took me forever to do. i thought i was going to have to deny this request but i think it came out pretty good! and do you guys like the new layout for the hantengu quad squad series? lol made by yours truly. leave feedback and reblog please lovelies!

© 2023 demiesworld. pls do not plagarize or repost on other sites without permission.