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selarina · 6 months

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Lost Cat Named Toto

-> Megumi Fushiguro x reader

You usually hate doing the dishes, which leaves you here: standing in the kitchen at 2 a.m. as you rinse and wipe down your dirty dishes. You find that you like this routine of yours — the warm liquid against your hand in the cold of the night, the slow jazz in your ears, the toasty bed waiting and ready for you to fall onto. It’s nice.

You didn’t like it at all at first — the anxiety of the unwashed dishes always weighing in over your head but after the first few months, you’ve managed to resign to it.

Thud! You turn — probably just another flatmate of yours you think as you go back to your routine.

Thud! This time you stop in your tracks — turning off the tap as you wipe your hands down on the table before you pull your headphones down.

You turn only to suddenly yelp — there’s a boy standing at the entrance of your kitchen. You squint, and he definitely doesn’t live on this floor.

“Sorry — Are you alright?” the boy asks, he looks frazzled — his black hair unkempt and his green eyes bleary and hanging low.

“You just startled me,” you say, a bit scared about a random guy standing in your kitchen but he looks fairly harmless. He likely lives in the same building. “Can I help you?”

“Right — I'm sorry about that. Have you seen a cat?”

"A cat?" you echo, bewildered.

“Yeah, a black and white small thing.”

“We’re not allowed to pets…” you say.

“I know, just—” He runs his hands through his hair, “If you see this cat, can you tell me?”

"Sure, I guess," you reply, your apprehension giving way to a faint smile. "I haven't seen any cats around, though."

And just like that he’s off. He didn’t give his number, name, or anything. What the hell are you going to do if you find his cat? You don’t dwell on it. You turn the tap on, picking up another plate to wash. You likely won’t see it.

—

You were wrong. It’s been half a day since you spoke to the boy and you’re on your walk to your lecture hall and that’s when you see it — a small black and white little thing moving with the poise and elegance of a tiger. You realize it's the same cat, the one the boy in your kitchen was searching for. It's two blocks away from your building, and you know this isn't a mere coincidence. This cat belongs to him.

Your heart fastens as you think of the frazzled boy and his request. But you do have your lecture and this cat doesn’t exactly seem or act like it is lost. Additionally, you would have no idea how to contact this guy since you don’t know anything about him. So, you should definitely make your way to your lecture hall. You should.

But alas, the cat moves, and you decide to follow it discreetly so as to not set it off running. You keep a safe distance and maintain a sort of litheness to not be heavy on your feet. You’re mirroring the cat, you can’t help but think. The cat seems to have an agenda, but you need to get to it soon so you move quickly in front of it, and it doesn’t budge a muscle, simply stopping in its track as it looks up to you. You kneel down, the touch of the gravelly road touching your bare knees as you hold out a hand. It’s lax, and still about a foot away from the cat.

It stares and it stares, as if discerning the depths of your soul before it patters across to it, slowly sniffing your hand before it softens, melting into your hand as you pet it. You smile, you just hope you can find the guy because you are, after all, going through the trouble of sneaking this little guy into your dorm room.

—

A mere two hours had passed, yet the cat had already carved out a niche for itself within the corners of your room. Having sipped a small offering of milk, it’s now nestled upon a discarded pillow you had left for its comfort. It’s slumbering deeply as you slowly step out, and pad your way out of your room.

You’re trying to find the frazzled-haired boy, and you figured the best way to do that would be to simply ask. You go downstairs to the social room where a bunch of people are scattered all around.

You ask the first group if they’ve seen a boy — with a description of his oddly distinct hair. And you turn up with answers of confused looks, and meek judgment. You shrug as you go to the next group, and at least this group pretends to try and think of people they may know but once again — nothing.

Then, amidst the sea of people, you halted before a young man near a vending machine. His hair, pink like rose petals, framed a face engrossed in contemplation over the choice between generic soft drink number 1 and generic soft number 2.

"Hey," you interjected, interrupting his contemplation.

He turns, “Heya, do you want to cut in? I might take a while," he offers, smiling so wide it makes you smile as well.

"Have you seen a guy?" you cut to the chase.

"I've seen many guys," he replies with a chuckle.

"Let me finish," you retort, deadpan. “He looks uhh— kinda like a porcupine. His hair, I mean.”

"I know exactly who you're talking about!" the pink-haired boy exclaims excitedly. "That's my boy — Fushiguro."

“Fushiguro,” you recant with a near whisper. “Can you tell me where he lives?”

“Yeah, he lives right next door to me,” he says. “And I’m heading up so—” But then he hesitates, suddenly cautious. "Wait. Wait. Wait— How do I know you're not some creep?" he asks, his expression filled with suspicion. "You could be a stalker, his crazy ex, or something."

"Do I look like a stalker? Or a crazy ex?" you ask, brows raised in mild annoyance.

“Well, the thing about crazy people is they look normal so—”

"I'm not," you reassure him. "And I promise it'll take less than 2 minutes for me to speak to him."

With that, he led you up the stairs to an adjacent building. It’s a bit more modern looking than your building, you notice. Checks out that this is a new addition.

As you hit the fourth floor, your breath is a bit haggled but you hide it with a discreet cough, as you catch your breath.

"I’m just saying— I could've been a stalker," you remark, your voice somewhat breathless. "That shouldn't have been enough to convince you."

The pink-haired boy chuckles nervously. "Stop saying that now that we're here. You even know which floor I live on. I won't be able to sleep at night, and it'll be all your fault."

As you approach Fushiguro's room, your heart races with a soft sense of anticipation. The pink-haired boy, your impromptu guide, stops in front of a door and knocks.

A few moments later, the door swings open, revealing Fushiguro standing there clad in loose-fitting attire. His unkempt hair is now slightly more tamed, perhaps having had to be at university today. Compared to the dead-like figure you had encountered earlier, he appeared considerably more alert.

"Hey, Fushiguro," the pink-haired boy says with a grin, "This person has found your cat."

Fushiguro's eyes widen just a bit as he gazes at you. "You found Toto?" he asks, disbelief and relief intertwining in his voice.

"Toto," you echoed in a hushed tone, nodding with a warm smile. "Yeah, I followed him and managed to coax him into my room. He's napping right now."

Fushiguro's tense expression softens, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Can I come see him?" he asks.

“You can do more than that. You can take him,” you quipped lightly. “Sneaking him into my room was the most anxious I’ve been all month.”

"Thank you for finding him," he says sincerely. "I've been searching for him all day. I don't know how he got out."

The pink-haired boy chuckles. "Looks like we've got a hero here," he teases you.

You shrug, feeling a bit embarrassed but glad to have helped. "It was just a stroke of luck, really."

As you step aside to let Fushiguro into your room, he enters, and you follow him inside, closing the door behind you. Toto is still curled up on the pillow, sleeping peacefully. Fushiguro approaches the cat, and as soon as Toto hears his owner's voice, he stirs, stretching and then opening his eyes. He lets out a soft meow of recognition.

Kneeling beside his feline friend, Fushiguro gently stroked Toto's fur while conversing in hushed tones. His voice, you noticed, possessed a soothing quality that stirred something within you. He could be good at ASMR, you muse.

“Little brat,” he murmurs, his fingers running through Toto's fur.

The sight of the two of them together warms your heart just a bit. It's clear that Fushiguro cares deeply for his cat. You feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you played a part in bringing them back together.

Fushiguro's eyes remain fixed on his beloved Toto as he gently scoops the cat into his arms. Toto purrs contentedly, nuzzling against Fushiguro's chest. His hands run over the top of Toto’s head, and you wonder if his hands are soft or rough to touch. They look calloused. You wonder why.

As you watch them, a thought crosses your mind. "You know," you say, breaking the silence, "I didn't catch your name back in the kitchen."

Fushiguro glances up from Toto, his emerald-green eyes meeting yours. There's a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "It's Megumi Fushiguro," he replies. "And you?"

You introduce yourself with a smile, as you stand there in your own room — awkward and shy all too suddenly. You wonder what the next step is. The next step is for him to leave, right?

“Thanks again for finding Toto,” he says.

“Like I said, it’s no worries,” you say. “But ah— why do you have a cat?”

“I just found him outside, and he was malnourished, I think. So, I’ve been feeding him for a month now. I’ll set him up at a shelter or have my sister take him soon. Whatever works out.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you say.

“It’s…whatever,” he says, a bit of red on his cheeks as he clears his throat. “I’ll get going now.”

You nod, reluctantly but you’re still in a daze and unsure of what you can say to make him stay.

Just as he’s about to leave, he stops, halfway through the door, but still inside your room. “Um— Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you respond. You wonder if he was about to say something else.

You wonder as you wash your dishes that night. Sharp at 2 a.m. as you do, the rhythmic sound of water splashing against the dishes fills the room as you continue your late-night chore, humming the tune of the song playing in your ears as you go through the plates.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re suddenly startled, your hair rising as you turn to spot Megumi Fushiguro.

“God,” you exclaimed, rinsing your hands and drying them on a towel. “Hope you don’t make it a habit to startle me,” you say as you lower your headphones.

“Sorry,” he says. “I— I came to ask you something. I know it’s creepy at this hour but I had a feeling I may catch you at this time since I did yesterday.”

“Right,” you say, gulping. “Right, what do you want to ask?”

"Coffee," he stated simply.

Your brows raise. “You want… coffee?” you inquired, turning to your shelf. "Well, I do have coffee."

"No," he clarified, "I meant, would you like some coffee?"

"I have coffee," you reiterated. "As I just mentioned..."

He tuts, “Do you want to have coffee with me?” he asks. “As a date, to be clear.”

“A date?”

“Yes,” he says.

“I— Sure,” you say with a soft smile. “Of course.”

Megumi stares back at you, soft patches of sheen wetness coating your hand, the hoodie hanging loose on your figure, and the warm yellow glow hitting your face. He wonders if this is one of those moments that are special. He wonders if that’s the reason why time seems to have slowed down just for a few quick seconds. He wonders if this image will be etched into his memory forever if he’ll recall this as he says beside you in bed, but he’s thinking too ahead — all he asked you for was coffee. He’ll just have to see how that goes first.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. At 5?” he asks.

“Yeah. At 5 — that works.” You smile.

“You listen to Amy Winehouse,” he says, and you think maybe you should offer a seat at the dining table. He looks a bit awkward standing there.

“Um—” you think, wondering why he’s asking. “Yes, why?”

“You were humming the tune earlier?” he says.

“Oh,” you raise your brows in realisation. “Yeah, I do listen to her. She was my mum’s favorite artist,” you share.

“Ah. My dad liked her,” he adds, as he wonders what he’s doing — telling a stranger about his father while Yujji, a boy he’s likely the closest to besides his sister, settles for specks of information about his life. It’s odd, and suddenly Megumi feels the urge to run out of here.

“A man with great taste,” you say with a chuckle.

“Sure,” he says, a bit dejected. “Uh— I’ll get going now.”

“Right,” you say. “See you at 5 then, Megumi.”

“At 5,” he recants.

He hears the sound of tap running water as he smiles, making his way out of your kitchen.

#toji liking amy whinehouse is just so canon to me #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader fluff

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bettyfrommars · 5 months

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out on the highway

older!Eddie x reader

this is a mid-2000's little blurb where Eddie is in his late 30's/early 40's and ends up in Oregon for whatever reason. maybe this is even drifter!eddie. there are so many isolated gas stations and mechanic garages where I am, I think about this every time I am on the road.

wc: 770

It was a dark and foggy November night when you pulled over to the first gas station for 50 miles on your long trek to the Pacific Northwest. Only a sliver of a moon in the sky and very few visible stars, most of them obscured by bully clouds.

The two pumps under a metal awning were well-lit, as were the modest mechanic garage and mini mart connected to it, but the rest of the surrounding land was nothing but agriculture fields with no other sign of human life to be found.

Perhaps you’d watched too many horror movies and episodes of Forensic Files, but this place gave you the creeps bad enough to make you wonder if it might be better to chance your luck and see how far you could get on fumes.

You opened your door a crack, enough to stick the toe of your foot out, and a song from the newest Arcade Fire album Funeral blared from your speakers, just before you turned the ignition off. You were about to get out and pump your own gas, because that was what you were used to—but then there stood a person, mere feet away, and you sank back, ready to slam your door, feeling suddenly threatened.

The person in question was a man in light blue coveralls, with the added warmth of a leather jacket and black, fingerless gloves. He had dark, wavy hair, just long enough to tuck behind his ears with two silver hoop piercings in one lobe, and there was some type of tattoo design peeking out of his collar on his throat. His eyes were dark brown and kind, and you couldn’t help but notice the thin scar that pulled down the skin of one eye and made it droop slightly.

It took you an extra second to realize he had a cat with him. The orange and brown calico teenager was perched on his shoulder and he steadied it with one hand to keep the feline secure while the tail swished behind. The hand that held the cat was slashed in white scars, decorated in chunky, silver rings, and the fingernails had chipped black polish on them.

He stopped abruptly, not wanting to scare you, not when that eastern side of the state had too many similarities to the scene of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Eddie,” he opened the palm of his free hand and spread his fingers out in a bit of a Spock greeting to let you know he was safe. “And this is Yvette,” he added, gesturing to the calico cat that he gently lowered to the ground. You both watched her sprint off to the garage and through a tiny door that had been cut in the sheet metal.

“Regular or super?” He asked, clicking the pump handle off the port before you could get out and do it yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind—-” you were about to step down to do it yourself.

But then he chuckled softly, realization dawning. “You can’t pump your own gas in Oregon,” he let you know in a patient voice, avoiding your eyes. “I have to do it. It’s the law," and at that last bit, he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course,” you gave a ‘silly me’ laugh and crawled back in behind the wheel to shut the door before rolling the window down. You gave him 20 bucks, and then you watched him from the side mirror as he stood there making sure you got what you paid for. He was humming a song; one you couldn't place.

“So,” you spoke up, sticking your head out of the window. “How long have you lived here?”

He worked his jaw as he checked the rolling numbers on the gas tank, tucking a hair that escaped to his cheek, still never looking directly at you. “I’ve been here a while,” he said, vaguely.

You stared at your steering wheel for a bit, until you heard the pump click to let him know your tank was full.

“Thank you,” you said out the window. He cleared his throat and said a gentle, “you’re welcome”, as he twirled your gas cap closed and snapped the shield into place. You watched him head back into the garage, with several cats circling his feet.

You spent the next several miles on the desolate road wondering about Eddie, why he looked so familiar, and how he’d ended up in such a po-dunk town. You wondered about him until you were sleepy and had to pull over at a roadside motel to get some rest.

You weren’t very far from the gas station, and you wondered if he would still be there in the morning.

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson hc #older!Eddie munson #mechanic!eddie

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rinbowaman · 8 months

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helloo this is my first time writing an anonymous thing or smth but can you write a scenario where heethan and readen are about to yk.. and readen suddenly ran away but heethan still catched her and gave her the most toe curling car yk..?

Warnings: cat and mouse vibes, chasing, capturing, predator vs prey vibes, slight bit of non/dub con, very detailed smut, hint of rough smut, unprotected smut, breeding kinks, overstimulation, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, finger popping (you know what that means....) dom! heethan (what else?....ofc he'll be dom!) and sub! readen. There is a small audio bit in this, just of breathing but still.... (NSFW) nothing too exaggerated just..i wouldn't listen in public, at least not without headphones.

Also, thank you to those of you that donated to my ko-fi!!!! Just for that, I made this smut extra good, so i hope you guys like it. This one.....if you want the full effect, maybe get your favorite treat and read this at night in your bed. 😉 I put a little bit more time into this one to reflect my appreciation for the donations. Enjoy!

ko-fi account ♥️

"Tonight was fun."

"heh, yeah." smirking, he responds teasingly while he drives on, keeping his eyes on the long country road as night falls. You both spent the evening enjoying dinner and a movie, deciding to finish it off with some stargazing at your favorite spot, the quaint and charming farm that he took you after you shared your first night with him.

Pressing down the button, you roll down the window and stick your hand out, allowing the air speed through your fingers. It felt warm, relaxing, and massaged your skin as you waved them against the current flow.

Parking the car, he shuts it off and leaves his door open to allow the fresh air to come in. You did the same. Staring through the windshield, you found it hard to gain a wide view of the stars, so you suggested sitting atop the hood, still warm from the running engine.

You both lay, side by side, and admired the cast of twinkling glimmers that sparked the dark canvas of the black horizon. There were even shooting stars, all of which you made your wishes, and hoped that someday they'd be granted.

"What did you wish for?" he calmly asks as he continues to stare off into the abysmal sky, resting his head on his hands.

"I can't tell you." you chuckled out. "It won't come true."

"That's a myth. Tell me." he smirks out. "Besides, we both know that any wish you make, i'm the one that's going to make it come true for you."

You reluctantly nodded, and opened up wholeheartedly as you elaborate the details of your wish. "I wished to be loved no matter what."

Turning his head to the side, he gives you a perturbed look as he tells you in his deep voice. "That goes without question. I'm always going to love you no matter what."

"yeah but...."

"but? there's a but? what the...." sitting up, he jolts out of his relaxed position and looks down as you shift your position and prop yourself on your elbows.

"I just...just in case you ever stopped loving me....I hope that someone will continue to love me. that's all."

".......that’s….” with a stern gaze forming in his eyes, he huffs out, “that won't happen. It’s impossible, I'll always love you."

"I know...but just in case-"

"But nothing!....what the Hell is wrong with you?" his tone started to reflect a flare of offense and annoyance. You gazed at him with a harmless countenance, you weren't trying to go out of your way to get him mad, you were just being honest. However, seeing the chaotic glare in his eye caused you to start shifting away, inching towards the outer edge of the hood, preparing to run. Sitting up and leaning against his palms, his eyes move around, and he notes your retracted movement in the opposite direction. Licking his lips and furrowing his brows, he issues a slight nod, antagonizing you as he speaks.

"Trying to get away?"

You gasped out with wide eyes. His words triggered you to make your move, the sudden flash of fear pinged you when you saw the malice in his eyes. Immediately, you rushed out and started to run out into the open field. You didn't know where you were running to, or where to go, all that you needed to know was that he was angry and you had to get away. Trailing through the wide open pasture, you barely made any distance before you felt the harsh grip on your wrist and a pull on your waist.

"Ah! Let go!"

Flinging you around, maintaining his hold, he drags you back into the car, nearly tossing you in the backseat. You desperately tried to open the door closest to you, but forgot that he had child lock features installed so that moments such as this, you wouldn't get away.

"Come here you fucking…!" he darkly issues as he grabs onto your arms, taking advantage of how your floral mini dress rose up to your upper thighs, revealing more skin, and allowing him easy access to the spot that would bring your will down, and break you.

"Stop! Heeseung I didn't mean anything by it! Why are you doing this?!" you yelp out, trying to push his hand away as he drags it against your thigh, going upwards and under the hem of your dress, while the other firmly loops over your waist, and locks on to your opposite wrist.

"Oh baby....you think after all that, you have the right to ask such a stupid question?.....OBVIOUSLY....i must not be showing you enough love...or making my love well known for you to think that i would ever stop loving you. hm?" he taunts out as he slaps your hand away and shoves his own in between your legs, all the while giving you a harsh stare.

Gripping on to your delicate panties, he feeds his fingertips through the mesh of the damask lace pattern, and begins to tear it to shreds, leaving tattered bits and pieces to pitifully drape around your right thigh. From there, it all went downhill.

First, he shoots his hand up and immediately penetrates your womanhood, using his two main fingers. It stung and was quite painful initially, yet immediately transitioned to a throbbing sense of pleasure as he thrusted them in and out slowly, causing you to grow moist. Taking his time to stroke them repeatedly, secreting the moisture of pleasure and pain mixed together, he pops his fingers out, reinserts, and repeats. As they nested inside your gripping walls, he waves them up and down, emitting a faint sense of pressure and relief as he pushes then upwards, massaging your walls before retracting them back down.

"Ah! Stop! Stop that!" The feeling was oddly pleasing, yet he took out his frustration as he harshly pressed against the softness of your interior muscles, sliding outwards, adding pressure towards the entrance and popping out when exiting. "Stop!!!" you screamed out, trying to wiggle your wrist free from his firm grasp, however, to no avail were you able to free yourself from his grasp. Maneuvering you to keep your thighs fully separated, he shifts legs to spread apart, using his kneecaps and thighs to guide you open, allowing him extended leverage to keep up with his performance.

He finally pauses, though it was obvious that it wasn't out of honoring your pleads. Because the second you felt his hand gripping your neck, you knew that he had other activities in mind, which he carried out....beautifully.

Swinging you over, he pins you on your back as he forcefully keeps you immobile. Rolling the top bit of your dress down, pulling the straps loose and exposing your breasts, he rolls the skirt upwards. The dress fitted you like a glove, and was made of a thin fabric that allowed him to nicely coil it around your waist without any excess bulk to interfere in exposing your entry, leaving you nearly fully ready for him to take. Placing gentle kisses along your skin, he trails his lips down, starting with the center of your abdominal core, down to your belly button, and reaching the center of your pelvic muscles.

Gasping out, your body shoots up, chest high towards the sky, yet was pushed back down and restrained from any further movement as he maintained his grasp around your pretty little neck. "He-Heeseung!" you yelled out. You were beginning to feel your body succumbing to the effects of his harsh love, it was thrilling and sensational. So much, that you started to wave your hips up and down the closer he got towards your spot, yearning for more.

His gentle kisses leave a line of wet prints on your skin, that delicate sound of his tender pecks fills the car and you reach up, grabbing onto the seats, desperate to dig your fingers into anything while you bear the weight of his sexual thrill.

Reaching the most tender piece of you, he hovers over your clit with parted lips, but does not initiate physical contact...not yet. Instead, he exhales his hot breath to coat over your slit, the very tip of his nose grazes against you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back bends into a sharp arch, you dig yourself into the seat, head first, as you slur your moans. A slight bit of drool escapes the corner of your lips, all the while he continues to tease you and breathes out the hot vapors of his exhales onto your opening.

Flickering the tip of his tongue, he repeatedly taps it against your slit, at fast pace, occasionally twirling the very tip of it in circles against your clit. Starting off in tiny motions, he expands the width of his movements and slowly envelops your entire opening, the plush folds of skin including, and sucks it all in. The slight bit of pressure upon feeling him sucking on your entire womanhood was unlike anything you ever felt. The warmth of his saliva, the tapping of his tongue, and the softness of his cheek meshed into a beautiful melody of sensations.

Inserting his tongue in, you feel it slip inside and using the same circular motions, he smooths over your walls with repeated movement, massaging every interior inch of you.

Your hips buck up, and your thighs and rear cheeks begin to shake violently, you are barely able to catch your breath as they become shortened and increase in pace. Developing a hyper reaction, your blood pressure rises as you feel your heart soaring, as if it was about to burst out of your chest. A prickling tingle emerges at the bottom of your feet, while the throbbing numbness and vigorous pulsation of pleasure pounds your entire lower region. Choking out hitched gasps, you moaned out hysterically as he continued to show you his love.

Breaking slightly away, he admires your glazed womanhood under half lazy lids, before placing a soft and sweet kiss directly at the center, sending your mind out of this world. With the swipe of his tongue, he drags the tip upwards, and slowly trails it all the way up in between your breasts. Cupping the mounds in his hands, he softly tenderizes them with his tongue. He pelts them with his kisses, and pinches them with his nibbles.

Leaving small marks of his affection in your skin, your chest becomes a colorful canvas that contains hues of purple, red, and pink by the time he finishes. With subtle bite marks, he licks over them, leaving moist kisses with drops of excess saliva to coat over each tooth print. Shooting up towards the nook of your neck, he buries his face in, latching on with his mouth as he commits to giving it the same treatment as your breasts had succumbed to. His hat peels off upon the bill pressing against your head and falls to the floor, allowing him to shove his face deeper against your skin. Moaning aloud, you slam your hands on his arms and grip for dear life upon feeling the swift motions of his tongue gliding over your skin. His hips join your movements and dips low into your groin, waving upwards as he slowly dry thrusts in between your legs. Twirling his fingers around the shredded bit of your lace panties that barely clung onto your thigh, he spirals the threaded pieces, toying with the fabric as he plays with it while he continues to dip into your nude cavity hard, and deep.

Bucking your hips up against him, you break and admit defeat. No words were needed, just the simple gesture of your yearning was enough to trigger him to bring out the beast. Propping himself up, he lifts your frame and shifts your position once more, nearly flinging you atop as he holds onto you tightly, and guides you to straddle his lap. Spreading his legs wide, he pulls you in, chest to chest, face to face…

Preparing for what was about to come, your thighs shake violently and you frantically grab onto his broad shoulders. He was already beginning to buck his hips, holding you down as he firmly squeezed onto the right cheek of your derriere. Flinging your head back, your hair draping down and blankets over his hand, you leave your throat exposed and dead center to his sight as you perform your own movements by grinding against his clothed member. How does it always come to this? How does he always have this effect on you? Knowing damn well that it all started with you running out of fear when he dispelled his psychotic gaze. Yet, as contradicting it may have seemed to others, there was something about it all that made you love it…love him. Even when he looked fearsome, demented, and just downright demonic, his touch and his physical nature towards you, was the complete opposite. There were times, where his murderous gaze scared you to no ends, but looking at you with those maniacal eyes….as he fucks you….kisses you…and tells you that he loves you to no boundaries….you wondered if there was something wrong with him…or if there was something wrong with you for enjoying it. Either way, you didn’t care, because the feeling was too good. The way his soft and dashing face could transition and switch to one that stabs your spirit, the stuff nightmares are made out of, yet his hands and love was desiring to give you pleasure, it all made you want to scream out at the top of your lungs. Nobody will ever understand, especially since that murderous tone in his face, when set on others, contained the intent on harming, destroying, and doing the most unthinkable to them…but when set on you?....It was the exact opposite. With you, the pain was always with pleasure, never to harm you. The bites always came with a kiss, to bring you back from the fear he instilled in you. The forceful restraints were paired with tender strokes, to gesture his desire to protect and shelter you from the world. His look…that psychotic, thrilling, and malicious glare in his eyes….always came with a gentle tone in his voice…to express his unconditional love for only you.

Feeding his cock out of his trousers, he taps it against your folds and clit, slapping it hard and in repeated beats as he taunts you with his words.

“You still need me to convince you?” tilting his head up, brushing his nose and lips against your throat, he speaks against your skin as he leaves tiny kisses in the center. You didn’t need any convincing. You knew…you always knew…but maybe, just a reminder wouldn’t hurt.

Nodding, you feel his lips smile against the underside of your chin as he chuckles. “Oh yeah?” he says with a deep….dark voice. “Let me make it clear to you then…”

Shoving himself in, he was harsh and forceful in his entry, though it wasn’t called for considering he had you melting for more of his touch. But the roughness added more to his vigor than what you were prepared to take, yet was grateful to receive. The feel of his hands suddenly gripping your waist, pulling you down while he buries his face into your neck once more, you tilt your head further back as you feel him sliding in, inch by inch. The best had yet to come, but the delightfulness of that feeling when he was all the way in, and rested you on top of his groin, fully sealing your skin with his as he waves his hips against you. Keeping you seated on the base of his pelvis, he motions your hips to wave back and forth as he did the same, causing your skin to rub together, meshing the beads of sweat to formulate one harmonious concoction. After widening your entry with his movements, he digs his fingers into your skin, and with his firm hold around the narrow part of your waist, he slowly lifts you up. As you rise, you slowly feel the relief of his thickness exiting, but knew that this was only just the beginning. Little by little, the girth of his length narrows down, until just the very tip of his head barely exists between your plush folds….and then he brings you down.

“AHHHHHH!!!!”

Screaming out your moans, you swore you saw stars as he eradicates all sense of gentleness and slowness in his act. Now, everything was replaced with speed, finesses, passion, and intense ferocity as he combines the efforts of pulling you down, and raising your hips back up while he bucks his hips, violently thrusting into you. That raging peak of high hits your cavity as you feel the opening of your cavity pulsating, opening and closing around his shaft. Your walls push together, enclosing around his girth and clenching for dear life as he continues to penetrate, going in deeper and harder. He was so abrasive and crazy with his motions, yet you loved it. Relentlessly panting, you dig your fingers into his shoulders as you raise a hand and plaster your palm against the ceiling of the car. Bouncing away, your body drums out an image of intense pleasure as your breasts shake, your derriere trembles, and your hair remains levitated from the stirrings of his energy. Sucking on your neck, he remains latched on and continues to go harder and deeper, listening to the sounds of your whimpering and constant screams of pleasure, all sounding like music to his ears.

HIs hands remain plastered on your skin, yet snake their way around your waist, onto your lower back, and down to the plumpness of your exposed derriere, where he squeezes his grab and subtly digs his fingers in. Using his newfound hold on you as leverage, he lifts your cheeks in unison, before mashing them back down and repeating, all in sync with his thrusting momentum. God, you loved it when he did that. You also loved it when he extended his thumbs, and stroked your skin as he continued to squeeze your cheeks harder, just like he was doing right now. Or when he picked up the pace, and went faster, harder, and thrusted in deeper, just like he was doing…right now. You also loved it, when he kept going…and going…and going…and finally, that sharp, tingling sense below your belly button explodes and your opening dilates violently around his throbbing cock as he continues to thrust, squelching all the moisture that secretes from your body and creates the fine, clear foam and thick creamy mess that sticks to your skin and rings around his shaft. Your toes curl, your fingers lose feeling and your nerves feel the shattering effect of fireworks as the numbness comes and goes, and all the blood rushes through your body. Choking on your gasps, you moan and whimper as he continues to thrust, despite you already releasing, because it wasn’t over yet.

Thrusting and grinding into you, he keeps up and never loses his momentum. Pumping into you over and over again, you felt his fingers digging in, his hands shake in their grip, and his breathing escalates. Tapping into your soft spot, he thrusts faster and faster, his breathing grows in sync with his pending release...

“Oh fuck…come here!” Wrapping his arm around your lower back, he brings you closer as he leans forward and shoves his face into your breasts and groans loudly as he pins you down, grinding his groin against you while fully resting his cock inside. Gasping out his deep voice onto your areola, his shaft pulsates against your walls, groaning in sync with each load he shoots out. Calming himself, his breathing starts to relax as he gently licks and sucks on your breasts; rubbing your soft skin with his hands while he keeps you steady, warming and comforting his member as he remains inside you. He doesn’t stop grinding, he keeps it going, slowly and deeply, until finally, he’s empty. Everything he had, he gave to you, and seals it by keeping you stuffed with his muscle until he knows that his essence is going to remain and not ooze out. Embracing you, he shoots a hand up your back, and delicately grabs onto the back of your neck. Gently tilting your head to the side, he pulls your head down, and exposes the soft spot beneath your ear, where he latches on and sucks the skin in, drifting off to sleep…just a small nap to recuperate before he takes you back to the frat house. Who knows, maybe he’ll be ready to convince you some more, after all, you did make a wish to be loved, no matter what. Fortunately for you, he’s more than willing to make that wish come true.

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

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bts-0t-7 · 5 months

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So What? | MYG | Chapter 1

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

WC: 2K

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar

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Carrying your body home after a full day shift at the café is always the hardest part of your work. The worst thing is that it was raining today.

"Man, it seriously can't get any worse than this already."

You were walking to your apartment from the nearest bus stop when you heard skitting across the road and paused. It was forty-five minutes to midnight and living next to a park made the lights in the area dim. That totally did not help the rising panic within.

“Hello?” You called out. “Nobody? Okay.”

You continued uphill as you constantly looked around, body and mind on high alert. As you walked closer and closer to your apartment building, the hissing got louder. You stopped dead in your tracks, rain harshly hitting the umbrella as you frantically tried to locate the noise. The flight and fight response in you is more towards the latter. Your eyes connected with two moonlit ones, staring back at you as if they knew where your soul was.

“Hi, kitty.” It hissed. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?" You tried coaxing it up with you. "It's raining hard, it’s better if you go under the building.”

You stood under the rain, getting soaked as you tried to coax it from under the car. You wouldn't have believed that you were redoing this on a brain-damaging day, still seem to have patience for a cat. It hissed and moved back when your hand went closer to it. You squatted there for a good fifteen minutes when you groaned and got up from your spot, pants and bag completely wet from the rain. You reached out your hand as a last offer, “Come on sweet pea, please?”

You used your best baby voice. The cat refuses to move from the spot it has pressed itself against.

"Fine. Maybe you don't want to leave me standing here." You have another look. "But when I leave, go under there," Pointing at the shelter of the apartment building. "It's dryer and warmer there. Night, kitty."

You went into the apartment building and took the lift up to the twenty-seventh floor. You brought out your keys as they clanged loudly against the metal gates. One foot in, you looked around your apartment, climbed the countertop, and took a plastic bowl off the shelf.

He's either going to be there or not going to be there.

You decided to take the plunge and filled the bowl with warm water - not too warm but not too cold. A flash of light shines through your house before the loud boom of thunder vibrates the walls. You hurried back down to the parking lot, afraid that the cat would be scared of the noise.

That's stupid. It's stray, it's used to it. But… It doesn't mean it isn't scared.

You carefully went back down to where the vehicle the cat was at but all you found was an empty space. Alarmed, you stood there, calling out for the black cat as if it could understand that it was being called. Only when you registered that the water in the bowl started to get cold did you leave to go back into your warm home with a heavy heart, hoping that the kitty at least found a dry spot before the rain got heavier in the night.

Yoongi never had the plan to be caught by any humans the day he left that horrid place. He survived on the streets, stealing food from vendors, and eating late-night snacks, but overall, he was fine as a cat. He survived as a cat and he has vowed that he would live like one for the rest of his life.

Until you came along.

He smelled you from a mile away. He was at the bin stealing off the last bits of leftover chicken that the hawker centre vendors had thrown away when he smelt you. He never stayed in one place for too long or the animal control would take him. But Yoongi stayed there for three days now. Three whole days and nights, scenting you, seeing you. But he never intended to be found out.

The rain started to pour when he was chewing off the last bits of his dinner. He scurried away to the nearest vehicle, crawling under to shield himself from the rain. People don’t normally like animals under the apartment buildings and it would be a too obvious place for him to be at.

“Hello?” He heard you call out. He scented your fear and kept still, not wanting to be caught. But as you neared the vehicle that he was under, he started to hiss loudly, animal instincts taking over to be alarmed and fight and all costs. You stood still again, now eyes turning to where he was and making contact with yours.

He stilled.

“Hi, kitty.” You called out to him, hands reaching nearer under the vehicle to try and pet him. He hissed out loudly and pressed himself even more against the tyres of the car. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?" You smelled heavenly to him, like tangerine and chocolate. He didn’t want you to leave but he didn’t want to be caught.

You tried your very best but he knew he wasn’t going to budge, not while you’re here at least.

“Maybe you don't want to leave with me standing here." Yes - "But when I leave, go under there," No - "It's dryer and warmer there. Night, kitty." Good night.

No way in hell is he going to go under the apartment blocks especially when he will be too exposed. You never once looked back as you walked into your building.

Maybe I should really go somewhere else to sleep tonight.

The rain started to get heavier, soaking almost half his body under the car. Yoongi walked out, rain splattering on his fur, spreading the blood down to his shin. He winced. Maybe fighting for the food just now wasn’t a good idea. Just as he started to limp away, lightning struck and thunder boomed, making him flinch and run to the trash bins located outside the apartment blocks. He slithered his way in there.

Hmm, dry enough for now.

He fell asleep just as he heard, “Kitty? Kitty! Kitty, where are you?”

You wake up to the sound of the alarm blaring through the house and turn over to grab the phone, turning it off so that it doesn’t sound again. Just as you were about to fall back asleep, your neighbours downstairs started shouting, waking you up.

You groaned. “What the hell. Fine, fine, I’m up.”

You vigorously tried to rub the sleep off of your face and headed to the washroom. You walked out of the washroom with a toothbrush stuck in your mouth as you took the kettle to boil some water. Rummaging through the cupboard for something to eat was the hard part. Being out at work means that the drawers in your house are almost empty. You sighed as you found some crackers in the refrigerator. You took a bowl and filled it with crackers and bread cookies.

As toothpaste started leaking out of your mouth, you hurriedly ran to the washroom to continue washing up. The coffee was simply made and placed beside the bowl of crackers and phones. You readied the vacuum and pail of water needed to clean the house.

You had a strict line-up when it came to Saturday cleaning. All drawers, shelves, and countertops are to be cleaned first. Followed by the carpets being vacuumed. Then, the floors will be vacuumed and moped - twice per room to make sure there is not a speck of dust. After that everything is washed and kept back to their original positions and the basins and toilets are next.

Usually by then, you are too exhausted to be bothered to clean it in any way, just making sure that everything is scrubbed - from top to bottom. Okay, yeah, maybe you do have a slight cleanliness problem. But you absolutely dislike it when the house gets too dusty as it makes you sneeze a lot. Though, cleaning itself is a workout but thankfully, you often finish just before lunch.

You crashed down onto the sofa after cleaning. “Ugh, today is exhausting.” You flung an arm over your forehead. You got up to get your phone from the dining table and adjusted your spectacles properly over the bridge of your nose. Deciding to be lazy today, you ordered in McDonald’s. As you deemed yourself well-rested enough, you got up with a huff and headed to take a shower.

Just as you were about to blow dry your hair, the doorbell rang and you hurriedly made your way over with keys in hand. Your stomach was finally grumbling for some food to grind in its system and you were pretty sure that by now, it was already eating itself. Just as you reached the small water fountain placed in the living room, a few steps away from your room, you realised that there was a ball of black-something.

That ball of black-something was indeed a cat and it looked as if it was a deer - or well, cat - caught in the headlights. Its pupils enlarged as one of its paws was paused midway in the air as if it just stopped from taking another step. The doorbell rang again, efficiently snapping the both of you out of your stupors.

“Coming!” You shouted as the cat scurried under your sofa. You thanked the delivery man for the food and quickly shut the door.

“Kitty? Is that you?” You placed the food on the top of the shoe rack, crouching down, head on the floor, trying to communicate with the cat that just - somehow, maybe flew? - into your house.

No response. As the both of you stared at each other in absolute silence, you somehow knew that it was indeed the cat you saw last night. You weren’t sure of the cat’s coat colour as it was dark in the night, but under the afternoon light, it seemed to be matted and had blood streaks on it. You could clearly see it from where you crouched down but did not move closer to it, learning from last night that it doesn’t like close contact.

Your stomach grumbles loudly. You sighed, getting up from your odd position on the floor and went to the kitchen. You were halfway through your own lunch when you decided to feed him. You got up from your chair, opened a can of soft food and poured it into an aluminium bowl as well as filling the top with a spoonful of kibbles. Then you mixed warm water in another and placed both bowls at the left edge of the sofa, hoping that the cat under there would be tempted to come out to eat with your back faced away from him. The noises from the bowls approved of the action.

Yoongi was hungry - starving. He couldn’t be bothered by what type of food you gave him, as long as you gave him food. He munched on the shredded chicken which was surprisingly nice with the extra crunch of the fish kibbles. He was hesitant at first, wondering if he should leave from under the sofa but the food was too tempting to waste.

The first bite down could have him crying. He didn’t have such high-quality food, human or cat food, for a really long time. The last time he had that was with one of his nicer owners. They were like family - he gets good stuff if he is a good kitty - until everything went to hell. He never intended to be caught but since he was already here, why not eat and then go?

Yes, yes that sounded like a good plan. A very good plan.

Except that plan never went as said.

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princesssmars · 1 year

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late night visitors

a ladynoir x reader

most people don't get visited by paris's notorious superheroes at night. luckily, you're not most people.

wc : 1982

contains : fluff. just a bunch of fluff ngl. polyamory. mari and adrien's ages arent stated but they grew up with me in my head so they're about 17/18 here idc.

f/f - favorite flowers

a/n : we love starting a fic and not finishing it until a year later <3 i made this short (?) and sweet before i went overboard. enjoy :)

one thing paris didn’t get enough credit for was its quietness. during the day the city bustles, each arrondissement’s streets filled with tourists and families enjoying the city of love. but you loved it at night. the air grows cold and the roads are deserted, only a few stragglers walking about. the city lights twinkle against the skyline and blend into the clear night sky to create your favorite sight.

you had spent a while sitting on your balcony and just enjoying it, having finished your homework and chores and ready to just be. you let all of your worries about school and friends and villains go and finally relaxed, staying outside for an hour before heading off inside for a night of rest.

tap tap tap.

you grumble, slowly rising from your sleep at the sudden noise you've heard at the other end of the rom. sitting up and rubbing at your eyes, you look around your bedroom to pinpoint where the disturbance came from. from what you can see in the dark nothing fell from your bed, and your closet and bedroom doors are closed so that only leaves one other spot.

tap tap tap.

letting out a huff of air through your nose, you rise from your bed and throw on your robe, quickly noting the alarm clock on your dresser telling you its already past midnight, before moving to the window that looks into your balcony.

not able to see anything, you carefully open the door, shivering and only stopping for a second to again look at the beautiful view of paris before looking around your balcony, only to see a small flower pot that rose had gifted you knocked over.

figuring it to be some dumb bird or a stray, you turn back towards your room just to see a giant pair of bright green eyes staring right into your soul.

it’s pure luck that you're able to muffle your short scream in your hands to not wake and alarm your parents and half the of the arrondissement. unluckily, paris’ beloved hero chat noir is on the brink of laughing his stupid leather-covered ass off.

he somehow manages to calm down, but that means now he’s talking. and god help you when chat noir decided to speak.

"i knew you could be jumpy when scared but you leaped higher than a startled cat! you should've seen it!"

he makes more jokes and lets out little laughs as you stand still in front of him, glaring at him in your pajamas. the fact that your bottoms were covered in pink cupcakes didn't help your case.

“if you seriously woke me up at midnight just to tease and laugh at me so help me god chat,” you squint your eyes in a warning, barely noticing the figure cloaked in red and black sliding up to your side.

“nope, we brought something else,” you hear whispered into your ear. not flinching this time, be it because you were too pissed off or less on edge from the last time. you turn and smile softly when soft baby blue eyes meet your own. “how was your day, mon cheri?”

you hum as your hands find their way around her shoulders and hers wrap around your middle, “better now that you're here, can't say the same for others though.” ladybugs body rocks with a silent laugh as chat looks at the two of you shocked.

he goes off into one of his usual dramatic rants about how the “loves of my life have left me behind for each other! the stereotypes are true!” as you both watch him in amusement.

“alright fine, you big oaf. get in here,” you sigh, moving your arm from around ladybug to open in his direction. he puts on his model-worthy blinding smile and rushes into the hug, squeezing the both of you and raising you off the ground. sometimes you forgot how strong they could be.

during the day, marinette and adrien were the pinnacles of perfectly normal teenagers. it’d been an honor to not only see them grow up from stumbling middle schoolers bestowed with unfathomable power to where they are today.

when you first met mari you thought she was weird, to put it frankly. you’d reflected on how nervous she would get around you and adrien and how you caught her following you a few times, much to her embarrassment at the memories. but after giving her a chance at the behest of alya you found out how amazing she could be. she was incredibly smart, excelling in her studies and being the group's designated tutor. it was only during one of your late-night tutoring sessions, the blue-haired girl smiling at you sweetly and praising you when you got a problem wrong, that you realized you had feelings for her.

and adrien was so radiant it was scary. you figured since he was rich and childhood friends with chloe bourgeois of all people that he’d be another snob for you to ignore. but then that day happened when chloe was jealous of all the attention you were getting on your new hairstyle and dumped a tiny carton of milk on your head. normally you didn't let her get to you, but you couldn't help but tear up and run to hide in an empty classroom. it wasn't until a little later that a soaking-wet adrien sat down next to you, telling you he was sorry for what chloe did, and said “if she’s going to bully my friends, she’ll have to do the same to me.”

after that, it was hard not to harbor feelings for the two of them, and you were so glad when they confessed not only to each other but to you as well. you weren't expecting the whole superhero reveal thing, though. but it warmed you inside to know they trusted you enough with this secret.

“let’s head inside, its getting colder and i don't want you to get sick.” ladybug pulls out of the hug, holding the back of her hand up to your head.

“i’m fine, bug,” you assure her, pulling her hand away and smiling at the way her cheeks tint pink. “what’d you bring me?”

ladybug waves her hand to chat, the boy coming up behind you before your vision goes dark with his hands covering your eyes. you hear the sound of ladybug’s yoyo, then the familiar whssh of her body traveling through the air.

“can you give me a hint at least?” you plead. its been a solid three minutes of waiting for marinette to come back and the excitement is making you antsy. not to mention your leather-clad boyfriend standing right behind you.

“no can do, babe. we both know you'll figure it out and then ladybug will figure out that you've figured it out and then she figures out its because i told you and then-”

“ok ok! i get it! ill wait patiently.”

luckily you don't have to wait long, chat removing his hands to show you marinette standing in front of you holding a bouquet of f/f and a box of your favorite pastries.

“i made them this morning so they'd be fresh in case something happened, thank god we only had to deal with some thieves.” marinette hands you the flowers, the pair of them thankful when you bring them up and take in a deep inhale of their scent, holding them close to your chest.

“i wouldn't call ten men breaking into the louvre just any regular thieves, my lady.” chat chuckles.

ladybug shrugs. “didnt seem so tough to me.”

she shrugs. “didnt seem so tough to me.”

“c'mon you two, lets head inside before some insomniac catches a picture of you two.”

they follow you inside, the both of them able to sneak well after years of practice. you put the flowers in a spare vase on your dresser, gently placing them inside with a smile. you hear a slight smack followed by a 'ow!’ and a laugh. you turn to see your girlfriend scowling at your boyfriend, whose mouth is stuffed with one of the pastries.

“i made them for y/n! at least let her have the first one.” ladybug chastises him, setting the box down on a coffee table before sitting on your white chaise.

chat ignores her, too entranced by the deliciousness of her baking. “whatever you say, buggaboo.”

you smile, loving to watch how they interact with each other. they worked so well together, and sometimes when you admired them it seemed like they were made for each other. if it wasnt so sweet you’d be more jealous, but they never made you feel excluded.

“ill go put these in your kitchen so you can have them for breakfast.” chat puts some of the pastry on a napkin and leaves it on the table for you before picking up the box and slinking out of your door with a wink.

you send him an appreciative smile, looking to the side to see ladybug still slightly pouting.

“its fine bug, i appreciate it no matter what,” you sit down next to her, reaching up to take her mask off as her baby blue eyes look at you fondly. “ill have to repay you somehow. just tell me what and its yours.”

mari looks at you silently for a few seconds more before brining up her hand to cup your face and bringing you in for a sweet kiss. mari's kisses were some of your favorites, the girl always making sure to assert herself as ladybug and it travels into her intimacy.

you pull away reluctantly, her looking at you with a lovestruck grin.

“you already repay me by being mine, mon cheri.” she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your warm cheek. you start to flirt back when a force plops onto the chaise next to you, a mop of blonde hair landing into your lap.

“i second what she said, my love. only if i get some kisses too obviously.” adrien says, his mask now off to show off his dazzling emerald eyes.

you roll your eyes in playful annoyance but relent, leaning down to give him a kiss as well. adrien’s kisses are just as amazing as mari’s but they feel…desperate. not in the way he kissed you when he underestimated a villain and nearly lost his life, rushing back to your apartment and kissing you before holding you in a tight embrace for an hour.

he was desperate for physical touch, the reminder that he’s yours and your his and that you wont leave him. but no matter how much the two of you pretend to be exasperated at his constant touches and flirting, you want to assure him that you’ll always be here for him no matter what.

the kiss ends and you nearly giggle from the sight of his dopey grin and hooded eyes, quickly widening when mari roughly grabs his cheeks and kisses him dramatically.

“there, happy not, kitty?” she asks, the boy laying limp across your lap.

“yup. perfect.”

after a minute of mari teasing chat for his dopey reaction to your kisses and adrien pointing out how she acts the exact same, the time of night catches up with you and you feel your eyes start to droop. just when you feel the lull of sleep taking you away, a strong pair of arms lifting you up and placing you in bed. when they start to pull away, you tiredly reach your arm out to hold their wrist, whispering a quiet “stay.”

thankfully your loves cant say no to you, the two of them resting on top of the covers as they cuddle you from either side.

its quiet as they stay with you, and you’ve never loved the quiet of the city more.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug x reader #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain cheng x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #ladynoir #ladynoir x reader #adriennette #adrienette x reader

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witchersmistress · 7 months

Text

New Orleans

Hello my darlings just a little snippet of a thing for ya'll. I'll play with it more tomorrow but for now enjoy.

Summary: Rory finally got to live out her life long dream, traveling to the beautiful city of News Orleans. a place that has called to her for so long, when she catches the eye of a familiar southern gentlemen

Word count: 700

Trigger warnings: none

Here is part 2 for those who are interested https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/730375070899388416/a-guarded-walk-home?source=share

My family thought it was the oddest thing that from the time I could remember when I was a little girl, I was just dying to get to New Orleans. I always said I had someone waiting for me, someone who loved and lost so long ago, but I was back again and this time forever. I use to go on about the beautiful mansion he had built me, the ballroom for dancing, the green house for all my gardening, a spiral stair case to a hidden library.. it was just dreams my therapist told me. Probably read in a book somewhere, but all those years later here I am

The city of New Orleans. A place of beautiful, fascination, magic, change and southern gentlemen

It was all yes ma'am, no ma'am, holding doors for them as the walked in with a gentle smack on their rear ends to hurry it along. Open car doors and keeping them safe as the made their way down Bourbon Street, which they've said transport you to another world at night. The throbbing music, the dancing neon lights, decorated by beads and balconies, and when it rained down on Bourbon Street, the party may have stopped the sounds of the rain come down off the metals roofs and waterfalling off the balconies to the windowless streets below.

That is the first time I saw that man, the one man who'd be my death and my undoing.

it was morning, the city was still sleepy, I stepped out to enjoy fresh air and drink my tea as I watched the people below, when I spotted him. He was tall, muscular, in a white tee that was plastered to his chest, showing off his delicious abs, he had a buzz cut and a scruff beard and these gorgeous cerulean blue eyes. I watched him, pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow and all I wanted to do was to sit on that man's face.

I felt my cheeks turn red with that idea. As if the man himself could have heard my thoughts, he looked up at me from his position on the street and waved at me with a devil may care smile. Sweet baby Jesus, my face was on fucking fire as I starred at him like an edjit. He threw the rag into the back of his truck and jogged across the road to the balcony where I stood.

"You know sugah, instead of just staring at me, you could've waved back" he said with a wink. Good lord I must have been red as a tomato. I starred at him in stunned silence he let out a low laugh " Alright darling if you insist" he said as he backed up into the street. What in the devil was this man doing.

"Last chance" he hollered " or you've left me no choice" I heard someone yell back "Syverson leave that young lady alone" he shrugged them off as he ran then jumped to grab hold of the railing of the balcony, my jaw was on the ground watching him pull himsled up and over the railing with ease. People cat called and whistled him from the street but he was focused on me " Well.." he trailed off as he took in my black leggings and grey v neck. He placed two fingers under my chin and closed my jaw with a audible click of my teeth.

"I'm Logan and you are?" Prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth " I'm Aurora, but most people call me Rory" his eyes narrowed and his eye brows scrunched in displeasure " I think I prefer, Aurora" he stepped closer to me and locking a finger around a few strands of my hair. Running his tongue along his teeth, I could see the sharpest of edges of his canine teeth beneath his plump lips. Breathing in the scent of his colone I was mesmerized by those blue eyes as he studied my face, if I had been so obsessed with his lips, I might have missed what he whispered " I've finally found you"

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill characters #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #henry cavill vampire

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 months

Text

Thorns In His Mouth

Part VII

Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn’t force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone’s wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.

_______

"But where are we going?" You hurried after the elf who was walking way too fast on his goddamn perfectly long legs.

"My friend is a phooka who doesn't like sunlight much," Steve said, turning his face to you but not slowing down. "Since magic costs us too much in your world, not many fae can afford constant glamour. And phookas don't exactly look like humans, so he has to hide where not many people can see him."

Oh. You hadn't thought of that. Phookas were black-haired cat-like - or goat-like? - creatures, as far as you remembered from a book about Celtic fairies you've had as a child. It would be incredibly hard not to freak out if you suddenly saw one in the middle of the city.

Poor creature. Where was it living? How hard it would be to not only be unable to use magic, but also communicate with pretty much anyone at all with an exception of fellow faes? Steve, on the other hand, looked perfectly human even with his strange face and piercing blue eyes, his ears perfectly normal. Was he using glamour?

He seemed to be amused with your expression as he laughed, extending his hand to you so you could walk close instead of dragging behind him.

"Do you use glamour to change the shape of your ears?" You blurted out, unable to keep silent to satisfy your curiosity, and then shame bubbled up inside you as you realized it was a too personal question to ask a literal stranger. Nevertheless, you took his hand when his fingers brushed against yours.

His gaze warmed up. "I do. What, do you want me to oblige you and show you their true form?"

"No, no pleasure, I'm sorry! I don't know why I asked that."

"It's a shame," the elf winked at you. "I'd ask you for a wish in exchange."

Warmth crept into your cheeks: was Steve flirting with you just now? Or was it his fae nature showing itself? The fair folk were supposed to be overly playing - or utterly horrifying. Steve, you thought, was likely both.

Turning to the left, away from the bus station with a long queue of tired students nervously clutching their Ipads and Iphones, you followed the Watcher with your eyes on the road instead of looking at him. It never came to your mind that he considerably slowed down his pace so you could keep up with it, his palm warming yours as he held it gently. You missed his intent stare as he stopped smiling, and his eyes flashed oddly.

"Your first lesson," he finally said after a couple of minutes, breaking the awkward silence. "Don't ever bargain with a fae if it demands a wish in return. Always try to propose something first. Give it something valuable, but what you're ready to part with."

"Like my earrings?"

There's a faint smile on his full lips, "Like your earrings."

"But what if I really need to bargain with a fae, and it wants nothing else but a wish?"

Steve abruptly stopped, and you nearly fell down the ground if he didn't catch you, steading you with his unbearably hot palms on your shoulders, towering over you, his expression somber.

"You NEVER bargain with that fae," he said, and your knees started to tremble out of nowhere when he squeezed your shoulders tight. "Never. Come find me, and I will trade something else with you to help."

There's something dangerous in the way his lips crooked, but you continued staring at his face, anyway, like a snake charmer at a cobra - except it was you being controlled, his voice a low command.

"There has always been plenty of malicious fae even in Sacred lands, but many turned worse in exile. You will never guess which one is which, and you don't want to know what they'll do to you if you give them a chance."

"But... but weren't fair folk forbidden from harming us?" Your voice trembled a little, and Steve blew out a little breath, his thumbs drawing circles through the fabric of your blouse to comfort you, probably, after he stopped painfully squeezing your shoulders.

"When you give them a wish, you hand them the power over you. Do that, and the law will no longer work in your favor."

It was a rule #1, perhaps the most important one among the long list of other rules you were given when dealing with the little folk. Never have you ever allowed a fae to ask you for a wish since then, promising yourself you wouldn't waste your own life even for your mother. There was always a different way, Steve said, glancing down at you as he towered far above you. Sacrifices, whatever their nature, rarely led to anything good in the end.

By the time he walked down the stairs to enter the nearest metro station, you realized you had a very vague picture of a place you were going to, immediately asking the elf where he was planning to take you. Why were you leaving fae's part of the city? Did some creatures live outside it? Was it far? Was it a dangerous place, too?

The man was chuckling again at a limitless number of questions you could ask without drawing a second breath. "You were a worrier, weren't you?" He asked, and your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

"He lives close," he finally said, motioning to the metro tration. "And no place is dangerous as long as you're with me. You might get nervous, though. It's dark and dirty there."

Dark and dirty? Was it, like, some sort of a cave.

Looking at the growing smile of the elf, you suddenly realized why he was taking you down the metro station. Dear God, that's where that hairy phooka lived, right? Somewhere on an abandoned metro line or between the stations where no one but rats would see him, and so he wouldn't need glamor.

It all felt like some sort of urban legend.

You didn't have it in you to stop, knowing your mysterious friend was expecting results in return for his earnest work, but when Steve was helping you jump over the protective fence right on the tracks, you squeezed his hand, breathing heavier.

"Can I hold your hand, please? This place gives me the creeps," you smiled nervously at him, and Steve let out a loud laugh in his typical fashion, grasping your shoulder.

"You weren't scared of coming to a place full of drug addicts and all sorts of scum, but the metro scares you?" He helped you up when you had finally jumped down, barely believing you were really doing it, your anxity amping up. "Don't fret, you lovely little thing. I know this place better than anyone. I've lived here for many long years myself."

________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy @heimtathurs @moonlightazriel @tsujifreya @lilithmoon92 @greenowlfactif @minshookie29 @nina2697 @youngdreamer3214 @jsrblue

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu fanfiction #mcu #captain america #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #yandere

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maccreadysbaby · 2 months

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: graphic(ish) death

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

NICO ALLEN NICO ALLEN NICO ALLEN NICO ALLEN

this chapter is so JAM PACKED you’ve got info hitting you from ALL angles about ALL three of the boys… eee

also… like… they really can’t catch a break can they

part twenty-six

❝ A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE(S) ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 17 — 5:12AM

BENTLEY HAD TO HELP NICO USE HIS INHALER FOUR TIMES. He didn’t stop crying until there seemed to be no tears left in his body.

Now, it was probably an hour later, and Asten still hadn’t returned. Nico had taken up residence on the bench under the awning, looking pretty much like a sad little wet cat. He hadn’t said a word since he’d calmed down — which was fine. Bentley didn’t blame him.

It had started to sprinkle again, which made the cold even colder. The streets were hazy from a thin fog that had rolled in, making it hard to see things that were far away, and Bentley was now twice as anxious about being able to spot oncoming Vigilantes. He wasn’t sure where Asten’s house was, but he was starting to get a little worried that he hadn’t come back yet.

The only sound besides the steady, soft breeze was the repetitive tap-tap-tap of Nico’s anxiously bouncing tennis shoe.

Bentley shifted where he stood with Asten’s black backpack hanging on his shoulders. He’d thought about sitting on the bench with Nico, but he didn’t really want his butt to be wet, so he took to standing against the inside of the bus stop instead. He wished he could do more. Why did hugs seem to be the only thing he was good for anymore?

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Bentley looked up into the streets beyond. What if something bad happened to Asten?

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Should they go in and see? Just to make sure? Surely Nico knew where Asten lived, right?

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-

Bentley glanced over at Nico, whose incessant tapping was accelerating. The blonde was paying no mind to it, staring straight forward, stuck somewhere deep in his own thoughts.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-

“Nico?” Bentley questioned, glancing down at his leg. It was moving so fast it looked kind of like a blur. How was he doing that? The blonde didn’t hear him — only kept staring forward.

“Nico?” He tried again. The tapping was so fast that it didn’t even sound like tapping anymore, but one, long sound. Like a hummingbird beating its wings so quickly it sounded like vibrating. Bentley blinked once, twice, counted his fingers to make sure he was awake. He was awake, and Nico’s leg was moving at an ungodly speed.

“Nico!”

“Huh?” He questioned, turning toward Bentley. Something flashed — like literally flashed — in Nico’s eyes. Something yellow, streaking across his blue irises like lightning. There was yellow lightning in Nico’s eyes that left just as quickly as it came.

Bentley must’ve made a face, because Nico looked down at himself, searching for something off. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Bentley said a bit too quickly, glancing down the road.

“Why’d you look at me like that?” Nico questioned, looking up at Bentley. His eyes were just blue now — no lightning.

Bentley blinked, trying to gather his bearings. He didn’t just see that, did he? He had to have been, like, hallucinating or something. Right?

“Like what?” He tried.

“Like there was a bug on my face,” Nico replied, wiping at his face with his hands. “Is there a bug on my face?”

Bentley opened his mouth to reply, but a different voice pierced the air.

“Jesus! Mrs. Harrison hardly let me escape her house,”

Both Bentley and Nico turned, the latter rising from the bench on the immediate. Every hint of lingering emotion seemed to fade from Nico’s eyes when Asten approached, any hint of his earlier breakdown being skillfully wiped from his face. He turned it on, like a switch, changing from mental wreck to typical Nico in a blink. Bentley wasn’t sure why, nor was he sure if it was a good thing.

Asten stopped ahead of them, green irises flicking from one to the other. “I got a crowbar. And this article I meant to bring.”

Asten now had some kind of toolbelt on his waist that was way too big for him, where a crowbar was dangling from his torso all the way down to his knees. There were other tools there, but Bentley wasn’t quite sure what they were. He had a handful of papers in his hands, and from what Bentley could see, most of them looked like old articles that he’d printed out.

He stepped up to them and handed each of them a page. “I checked the cabins bookings again while I had my phone and, take a look at this-“ He pointed to the paper in Bentley’s hand, which had a calendar table on it. “-Davis Henderson, star Princeton student and yadda yadda had that place booked right before he went missing, too.”

Nico scrunched his face up. “How in the world did you print these out?”

“I know someone for everything, nosebleed,” Asten said, raising a brow at Nico. “I could get anything from a fake ID to a box of butterfly wings in less than thirty minutes.”

Nico blinked. “A box of butterfly wings.”

“Yeah, there’s an old woman on eighth that collects them, I think she’s kind of insane. But that doesn’t matter. Check this out,” Asten pointed to the paper in Nico’s hands. “This girl, Charlie Reins, died in a freak mine collapse on a gemstone expedition to Brazil two years ago. No body was ever recovered. Closed casket funeral.”

Bentley moved closer to Nico’s side, glancing at the photograph of a blonde girl, maybe a little older than Jason? Why did she look kind of familiar?

“A little more research revealed that-“ Asten grabbed the page from Nico and gave him a second one, with a picture of a girl and… Dr. Keene? “It was Dr. Keene’s step-daughter.”

Nico blinked. “Uh-huh. And what does this have to do with the Secret Keeper?”

Asten’s eyes flicked between them, a glint of something swirling around deep in his irises. “Well… I don’t actually know. But I thought it was interesting.”

Bentley glanced down at the pages, watching as the letters suddenly began to swim around like they were in water. He blinked twice as a dull ache surfaced at the back of his skull. Someone was talking — he couldn’t hear them. The dull colors around them mixed into an indiscernible blur, and he could feel someone touching him, he could feel himself moving.

“Don’t worry, babybird. I won’t tell your secrets,”

And the ground fell out from under him.

When he stopped falling, he was in a car.

He blinked a few times, trying to right his teetering mind. Everything was sort of spinning, still, and the rocking of the vehicle wasn’t helping. It made him feel like he was going to throw up. Had he passed out? Was he being taken home?

Asten was sitting — no, laying next to him, curled in a small ball in the rightmost car seat. Dumbly, Bentley reached for the older boy, and his hand moved and moved and moved until his arm couldn’t go any farther, but he still wasn’t touching him. He was right there but Bentley couldn’t touch him.

“Asten. What happened? Where’s Nico?” He tried. The outside world passed in pitch black blurs, only illuminated dimly by the car’s headlights. There were two people in the front seats — a man and a woman. Bentley couldn’t look at them very long, because the brightness of the headlights was making his head hurt worse. Asten didn’t move, nor did he respond.

The woman, however, turned from her spot in the passengers seat. She didn’t seem to see Bentley. “Está tudo bem, amor, estamos quase lá.”

Bentley winced when another stabbing pain shot through his head. It’s okay, baby, we’re almost there.

He looked up at the woman, at her unmistakably green eyes. She was speaking in Portuguese but… Bentley… he knew what she was saying. How did he know what she was saying?

“Dói tanto mãe... por favor, faça isso parar,” Asten replied, and Bentley only noticed right then that he was… crying. Curled up in the car seat and crying.

It hurts so bad, mom, please make it stop.

“Tem que ser o apêndice dele, é tudo que sei que pode causar tanta dor,” The man said softly, leaning a little toward the woman in the seat next to him. Were these Asten’s parents?

It has to be his appendix, it's all I know that can cause so much pain.

“Acalme-se amor, você vai assustá-lo,” His mother replied. Calm down, love, you’ll scare him. Then she turned back to Asten, a petite hand finding its way between the seats to rest in his blue hair. “Você vai ficar bem, querido, só mais alguns minutos.”

You’ll be okay, baby, just a few more minutes.

Bentley brought a hand up to his skull, wincing when the pain behind his eyes heightened at the slightest touch. “Asten…?”

The older boy did move, that time. But it wasn’t in response to Bentley’s call, it was in response to his mother’s hands that were beckoning him forward. He looked younger.

“Venha aqui Asten, você ficará bem,” Come here, Asten, you’ll be okay.

Bentley watched in silence as Asten summoned all the strength he had left to climb over the center console into his mother’s arms. It was nothing short of pitiful — he was sobbing from whatever pain he was in, and his mother couldn’t really do much about it except hold him.

Bentley winced again when his head throbbed rather spectacularly, his vision blurring and then returning to normal a few times in a row. “Bruce?”

“Honey, stop!” Asten’s mother shouted rather loudly in English, causing everybody in the car, including Bentley, to leap out of their skin.

There was a girl standing in the middle of the road.

It was…

The Secret Keeper, in all her glory. Smiling at them with her twisted smile that looked gruesome and terrifying as usual, with her glowing amber eyes that only appeared when it was too late.

Asten’s father swerved into the other lane to miss her.

No one had a second to react before the car rammed into the front of an oncoming semi-truck, and Bentley’s ears rang deafeningly loud, his vision turned into nothing more than a blur of white. It felt like someone was stabbing a hatchet into his skull.

He opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He didn’t know. What he did know was that his head hurt so bad, and all he could see was white.

He looked down. He was standing on white — a solid white floor. He was still wearing the old black jacket and red tennis shoes. He was in a white box: white walls, white ceiling, white floor.

He turned, and the Secret Keeper was staring at him.

Bentley screamed, his heart immediately starting to hammer behind his ribcage as he scurried to get away from her. She didn’t pursue him, didn’t chase, just stood. Smiling.

“The past is a fickle thing,” Her voice came, but her mouth didn’t move. Bentley moved away until he found himself pressed into the furthest corner of the white room, as far from her as he could be.

“I can see your memories, babybird, but I can also see your future. Every possible variation,”

A gray smoke appeared, hovering over the floor only feet from Bentley. It swirled like storm clouds until it rose into a spinning pillar. After a moment, the smoke faded away, and a gravestone was left in its wake; a gravestone with the words Bentley Whittaker — ten years old engraved on it. A church bell that didn’t exist rang in the distance, and Bentley tried to push himself further into the wall.

And suddenly, the wall was gone. He stumbled backward a solid five steps before he was able to regain his balance, turning back to face the supervillain.

The Secret Keeper was gone, too.

“Coming, Robin?”

It wasn’t her voice coming from behind him, but Tim’s. Bentley turned. Tim was standing far off in the white room (Abyss? He couldn’t see walls anymore), wearing a suit that was very much not his Red Robin suit, but a solid black cloak that starkly contrasted the rest of the white everything Bentley could see.

Robin faded into view a few dozen feet from him, in a suit that seemed… somehow familiar, but also brand new. It only had two colors as opposed to the typical three or four — black and yellow, just like the bird. The black hood of the cape was tugged over Robin’s head. A glass case appeared in front of him, holding what looked like Dick’s Nightwing suit.

Tim stepped forward, the cape of his Batman suit dragging the floor. He rested a black-gloved hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Bentley?”

Robin turned, and Bentley blinked.

He was staring at himself. Older, thirteen or fourteen, maybe, with a black domino mask clutched tightly in his left hand.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” The other Bentley replied, bringing his Robin mask up and resting it on his face.

One variation of his future was… for him to be Robin to Tim’s Batman?

He and Tim faded away in clouds of gray smoke. The Secret Keeper’s voice came: “The good variations… the bad.”

“C’mon, Bentley, c’mon, c’mon…” Another voice that wasn’t her’s echoed around the white chasm. Bentley turned, inhaling sharply when he saw himself… dead.

He… or… another Bentley was hanging slack in someone’s arms. His face was pale and lifeless, brown, glassy eyes staring at nothing. He was wearing a Robin suit — Damian’s old one, that Bruce had just made a replacement for — and there was…

God, he felt like he was going to throw up. There was a huge, jagged piece of metal debris sticking out of the other Bentley’s stomach, coating the entire midsection of the Robin suit in crimson. Jason was the one holding him, in his Red Hood get-up minus the helmet, and they were standing in what looked to be… a pool of glowing green water?

“C’mon!” Jason shouted at no one in particular. “You saved me, so save him!”

Bruce came into the scene, drifting up next to Jason in the pool. “You’ve been in here for hours. He’s gone, Jay.”

Bentley’s head throbbed as he stared into his own lifeless eyes for what seemed like forever, until that, too, faded into smoke.

“Even the ugliest variations. I can see them all,” Her voice came.

“Puppeteer!”

Bentley whipped around again, and standing a few dozen feet ahead of him, was his father. Laying limp at his father’s feet was Damian, in his new black Robin suit. The white floor beneath him was stained and streaked with blood, and his suit and mask had been burned and torn, leaving seared and ripped flesh in its wake. He was gasping for breath, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood that made Bentley’s head swirl.

Another Bentley came into view, sauntering up behind his father. Their red hair and brown eyes matched in a way that made him feel sick. They were each wearing suits. Full-blown tuxedos. His father pulled a pistol from a holster on his side, chambering a round and flicking the safety off. Then he held it over to the other Bentley.

“The last bird is yours,”

The scene seemed to expand, and several more battered and bloody corpses came into view — Jason, Dick, Tim, Bruce, Steph, Duke, Bruce, Cass, Barbara, even Alfred.

Bentley watched with mounting horror as the other Bentley — the Puppeteer — took the gun in his small fingers and aimed it at Damian’s head.

His own voice made his ears itch like nails on a chalkboard. “See you on the other side, Babybird.”

BAM!

Bentley — the Bentley, the only Bentley — snapped his eyes shut as the resounding gunshot echoed through the white, a soft whine escaping his lips. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to pass out. He wanted Bruce.

When he worked up the courage to open his eyes again, all of his possible futures were gone, and the Secret Keeper was standing mere feet from his face.

“Your future rides on what you choose when you wake up. Remember that,”

Pain. Searing pain, like a million red hot knives were penetrating straight into his brain. Bentley screamed. Couldn’t see anything. Felt something cold. God, he was so cold. He was so cold. Where was Bruce?

“Bentley, buddy, please wake up,”

He was so cold.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left!”

“This could’ve happened even if he was at home!”

“Well, he’s not at home!”

Bentley was so cold.

“Oh my God, Bentley!”

When he peeled his eyes open, Asten and Nico’s faces were both hovering ominously above him. The light from the single flickering streetlamp shined behind them like some kind of indecisive halo, coming and going, making Bentley’s head hurt even worse, if that was possible. The nights sky was still shining above them.

He was soaking wet. They all were, actually. It was pouring rain now, and Bentley was laying on the sidewalk. Well… not just laying, but shaking — trembling like a leaf, actually, and only when he hiccuped pitifully did he realize he was crying.

He felt like he got hit by a truck.

He tried to push himself upright, but his mind swirled and left him nothing but nauseous.

“You probably shouldn’t move too much,” Asten suggested. “You look like you might hurl.”

He felt like he might hurl. The Secret Keeper could see the future. His future. All of them. Him dying, him being Robin, him being the Pupeteer… And he could… he… he…

The Secret Keeper was the reason Asten’s parents died.

That’s why he was so hellbent on killing her.

Bentley buried his face in his hands with a low noise.

“We should just go home. I knew something like this was going to happen,” Nico muttered. It was only then that Bentley felt a hand beneath his head, keeping it from resting on the pavement.

He blinked a few times, pushing his hands against his eyes in a futile attempt to make the tears stop. “What… happened?” The force it took to push the words out made the pain in his head triple, and he audibly winced.

“You… your eyes… they turned amber. And then you passed out,” Asten explained softly, his stringy, wet blue hair dripping rainwater. “What did you see?”

Bentley shook his head to dismiss him, but it ended up being a terrible mistake. It just made everything spin. And he was so cold.

“Let’s take you back to the Manor,” Asten said, a gentle hand resting on Bentley’s left shoulder.

The Secret Keeper… had said what he chose to do next would impact his future.

Maybe she was trying to scare them off. Maybe they really were on her trail.

He couldn’t go home yet.

“No,” Bentley argued, blinking a few times. Their faces went in and out of focus, and even though most of his mind was writhing, he breathed in deep. “No, I’ll be okay. We have to find her. I just… I just… need a few minutes. I’m okay.”

Asten grimaced and glanced over at Nico. The blonde looked back at him, an expression of pity and understanding painted across his features. “Look, I’m all for pushing through the worst of times, but you really don’t look good, dude.”

“No. I’m… okay, I just… don’t feel very good. Right now. I’ll be okay. Just… just give me a minute,”

He almost sighed in relief when he felt Nico’s hand brush his hair away from his face. It made him miss Bruce. He was so cold.

“Just give me a minute. I’ll be okay. I’m okay…”

Bentley curled up against Nico’s knees and cried.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

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yourfatherlucifer · 9 months

Text

New Paradigm (San)

Vampire!Choi San x afab!reader

>>Walking home sick from a friends house was a dumb idea, especially late at night. A creature of the night, a vampire, had been stalking you. His vulnerable, his weak and yummy prey. Oh, the perfect meal. It was too easy. Yet..someone else was watching, was it your savior? Or your doom?<<

Warnings: violence in the beginning

Yeah, this was such a stupid idea. I should’ve gone with her advice and taken a cab home. But you know, my dumbass had to be stubborn and say, ‘oh no it’s alright, I can manage the pain, it’s short walk home anyway.’

It’s freezing, it’s creepy, there’s no one on the streets it seems like. I could call a cab, if it wasn’t so late now. If only I called one 10 minutes ago while services were still running!

God, my stomach hurts so bad.

Slouching over on the sidewalk, holding my stomach in pain, “Fuck, what did I do to deserve this.” I groaned.

An empty can of soda was rolled in front of my feet. It’s bright orange color reflected from the dim streetlights

What a weird can.

A cats shriek from the alley across from me could be heard all around myself. Creepy. Whatever, I’ll just igno-

“Hello~”

A shriek of my own left my cold lips, cold from the frosty air.

“Oh my fuck!” A hand was held in front my heart, it wouldn’t do anything to stop it from leaping out of my chest, but that’s alright.

“Don’t do that!” I stared at the sudden individual. Where did he come from?

His hair was a dark brown, his eyes were a creepy dull red, must’ve been wearing contacts to scare people. What a freak.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t ya? What are you doing out here all alone? Haven’t you been watching the news?” He trailed a very sharp fingernail down my jawline, to the middle of my throat.

I stepped back.

“Please stop. I just wanna go home!”

He pulled me closer to him, burying his face in my neck, “That’s too bad, my dear. You smell divine, a perfect, vulnerable meal just for me~!”

He cackled like a hyena in my ear.

I tried to pull away, I could feel his mouth slacking open.

Tears poured down my face, “Please! Stop! Somebody help me!”

His teeth pressed against my throat, but before he could do anything, he was pulled away from me. A growl left his throat, but before he could fight back, an arm broke through his chest, heart in hand.

I screamed in fear, but couldn’t bring myself to move.

The arm retracted, “You dare, on my turf, hunt humans? You dare defy the higher ones?”

A beautiful man, his shining black hair reflected in the light from the lamppost.

He bore teeth sharper than a K9’s.

His red eyes. He had red eyes too. Fangs..he’s a vampire. And so is the, well, now lifeless body.

I guarantee my fear could be smelled from a mile away or less. I was terrified. I mean it’s a vampire for fucks sake!

Finally able to move myself, I turned on my left foot to run, but then, couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Footsteps approached me from behind, “What? I don’t get a thank you, human?”

The voice wasn’t deep but wasn’t soft either. It was a sort husky-like voice. I felt no danger, but I just couldn’t move.

“I-I..” my voice betrayed me by trembling in shock.

“That’s okay. I was gonna kill him anyway. You don’t disrespect a higher one. What a pathetic excuse he was for a vampire.” He chuckled.

He moved in front of me, I could see his cat-like eyes, shaped like an almond.

“My name is Choi San, call me San. Obviously I am a vampire.” The man now known as San smiled, I could see the tips of his fangs.

“I’m Y/N..thank you for helping me.” I stared at the ground, too nervous to look at him. He was ethereal in my eyes. A man of beauty.

He nodded before stepping back from me, “Well, I must be going now, as good as you smell, I refuse to eat humans on my territory,” shoving his hands in his pockets, “Don’t come down this road so late anymore.”

“Okay, I won’t, thank you.”

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

As he walked into the night, I wondered if I really would ever see him again.

——————

NO PART TWO

Tag list: @starillusion13 @thishastwentyletters @babesindestroyland @san-realblkwife

#Choi San #vampire San #vampire ateez #vampire San x reader #San x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez

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mocha-gladiator · 4 months

Text

Chapter 1

I dont intend to post the chapters in succession, but maybe just a few favorites would be nice. This is based on my favorite fae, the ghillie-dhu, and as many doubts as I've had, I've always kept this one passage. I only hope it means well to you

Year 3702 BT

“Why do you cry, girl?” It was a simple question, never easily answered, but it came from such a soft and honest voice that she at first did not notice the teeth behind the kind smile. Ivy stared at him for a moment, a man dressed in green with moss growing over his shoulders and down his cape. His hair was wavy and black, and his eyes a pale yellow and ever changing, like a cat’s. She watched the pupils grow from slivers as he spoke again. “Why do you cry, girl?” Her own voice sounded like a lamb’s bleat, something she was not used to. But this was not home. This was not a place to be used-to. “I want to go home.” The creature grinned again, with teeth that were certainly not human. Ivy knew that if she had seen him from a distance, she most certainly would have ran, but here close she could see the humanness in his face and the warmth in his laugh. “I know all the trails,” he assured her. “The rabbit’s trail, the mouse’s trail, that of the deer and that of the man. Tell me—where is it you want to go?” “Home,” she bleated at once. But of course that made no sense. Not to him. “Whythiecomb.” The man in green nodded, and reached out a hand. A normal, human hand. “I will show you the way.” Ivy put her hand in his, and was a bit surprised to find it warm. But what had she expected? A cold, dead one? The fae were living creatures, too, after all. She walked with him out of the briar patch and stepped onto a trod path that had not been there before. Or else, if it had, she would have found it and followed it, right? The girl did not even know up from down in this forest anymore, not with night falling. Maybe the path had been there, and she had just been too tired to notice. Regardless, the dirt felt better on her bare feet, and the forest not nearly so scary with someone there for comfort and guidance. “Thank you,” she breathed, watching out the other way. “Do not thank anyone in the fae forest,” the black-haired man warned. “Someone might think that you owe them a favor if you say those words.” Ivy looked up at him. His tone felt different, but still gentle towards her, and his face was still on the road. “What do I say instead?” she asked. The fae was quiet for a moment, and she watched his yellow eyes dart around as he searched for the right thing to say. “You do not say. You choose some small thing to do or say instead.” He held up a silver hand, pointing up. “But you do not owe me a thing. Understood?” “Yeah.” She said on reflex, and he could tell she did not. His strange eyes turned back to her. Was it worth explaining? They had a little ways to go yet. He turned back to the road and drew a breath. “If you speak the thanks, the other person takes it as an owed debt, and they can choose to take it from you whenever they like, but you act out the thanks yourself, you get to choose. Sometimes all it has to be is leaving out a bowl of cream, or a shiny trinket. Does not have to be much.” Ivy tugged on his hand. “Isn’t a bowl of cream for cats? Do you like cream?” The fae chuckled under his breath and tugged her hand in turn. “No, girl. I asked for no thanks. I am just warning you if you were to meet someone else. But don’t come back this way again, yea? There are beasts in these woods that would like to eat little girls like you.” “No, there’re not.” she said at once. “Yes, there are,” he insisted. “Do not come back. I will not be here. I will not let you find me if you look. It is not safe.” He slowed to a stop as the treeline faded into a grassy field, and beyond lie a mill and farm and a pen with goats. The fae knelt down in the tall grass and set his other hand atop hers and looked her in the eye with his strange ones. She watched as his cheeks smiled kindly, and the darks of his eyes grew big. “But if you are ever lost in the woods again, you can call me, and I will come find you.” Her face drooped as she realized she would have to leave soon. “How will I call you?” she asked.

“I am Morad. Do you think you can remember that?” He cocked his head at her. “You are quite young. You may not.” “I will!” she said at once, bouncing on her feet. “I will, I promise!” Worry flashed in his eyes, followed by bemusement before his sharp-toothed grin returned and he shook his head. “Well, what is my name, then?” She stopped and stared at him. “Uhhhhm….” Another quiet chuckle stirred in his throat. “Morad,” he reminded. “My name is Morad.” “Morad,” she repeated back, then looked at him rather puzzled. “That’s a weird name.” The fae shook his head. “Not really, but I have forgotten my real one.” He winked. “Somebody stole it.” Her face crinkled up. How could somebody steal a name? You could not even touch it. “You’d best be off,” he pressed. “The stars will be out soon, and your family will start to miss you.” Her face sobered again. “Do you really have to go? You could come live with us.” For a moment, the strange creature almost looked hurt, as if he might cry, but the softness soon came back. “Nae. Homes are for little girls like you.” He poked her belly. “I am a wild thing, like the deer. The woods are my home.” “Can I see you again?” she asked as he rose to his feet. “Maybe,” he considered. “But do not come looking for me. You will never find me that way.” “But—“ Her mother’s voice came on the wind, and she turned her head to see the woman at the bottom of the fields near the stream. When she turned back, the fae was gone—nothing there beside her but a few crushed stalks. Her face saddened, but she turned towards home. “Goodbye, Morad,” she called anyway, waving her hand at the pitch dark. A pair of eyes glowed from the bushes, and the shadows brightly answered, “Goodbye, girl.”

#white stag #my writing #the weeping faun #Ivy #Morad

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squippy360 · 2 years

Note

PLEASEEE do another part to that peter parker x monster reader omg

i gotta see him get fucked by the reader damn

Sub!Peter Parker x Monster!Male Reader

Cw:(fluff to smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, secret fucking, mating kink, reader has a 16 inch chub 👍)

I happily followed him out of our house and saw a car waiting for Peter. "Hey kid." A man said from inside the car. Peter smiled and waved. He dragged me inside quickly and we all drove off. I was in the back seats, laying down since I was too tall to be standing up. "So…who's your friend here?" The man said. "This is M/n, he was a little creature that I found in an alley and I took home with me. And now he's really big. M/n, this is Happy." Peter introduced me.

I could smell how nervous Happy was so I tried to make myself as docile as possible. "Happy…" I mumbled. I snuck my hand on the door side of his seat and held his hand. He was slightly flustered but squeezed back. I let out a happy noise and wrapped my arm around his waist fully.

"So. Tony wanted me to tell you that he's going to have you in the lab all day for suit testing." Happy said as approached the garage in the tower. I looked around warily as we got out of the car. As we made our way in the elevator, everyone stared at me with wide eyes. I got this scared feeling and tried to hide behind Peter. "Ok. Top floor." Happy said and pushed the top button.

I picked Peter up and held him in my arms, like a teddy bear. He dangled helplessly in my arms. Happy chuckled at that and we went through the door. I ducked down and walked through the door. Everyone in the room stopped talking and looked at me with wide eyes. I clenched my jaw and backed away nervously.

"Hey everyone. This is M/n. My…uh…friend!" He said with a smile. I shyly looked away. He led me to the couch and sat me down across the others. I pulled Peter in my lap and hid my face in his back. He nervously laughed and put a hand on my thigh. "Sorry. He kinda likes to hold things." Peter chuckled. "Peter, He could be a warrior with that body!" The big blond with long hair yelled. "He's really quiet." A man with a metal arm quietly said. "Why is he so damn hot?" The darker man yelled. "Wow. He's so tall." A blond with a shield said while holding the man with the metal arm.

"I'm sorry, M/n. I've got to go. You can stay here but you can't come with me. I'm sorry." Peter said and pulled off of me. I let out a soft whimper as I watched him walk away. "Let's introduce ourselves. I'm Steve, This is Bucky, that's Sam, he is Thor, that's Natasha, Clint, Loki, Vision, And Strange." Steve said. I stared at all the different faces.

"Let us compare heights!" Thor yelled and pulled me up. I fiddled with my fingers as they surrounded me, looking up at me. "Incredible…" Steve mumbled. I let out a wary garble and backed away slightly, accidentally knocking someone over. I gasped and turned around, lifting the person up.

Man with long black hair and green clothes looked up at me. "Thanks…" Loki mumbled and jumped out of my arms. I watched him walk away to a room. They pulled me down and started touching my face. "Woah, you're not human, are you?" They asked. I sat in the corner of the couch and shook my head. "Oh! Help me settle a debate!" Sam said and pulled out two cups from the freezer.

They held up 2 pints of ice cream. "You're the tie breaker. Which one: Rocky Road or Cookies 'n cream?" Sam asked. I sniffed both cartons carefully. I let out a happy growl and took both of them, eating them at once. They stared up at me with shock. "Wow…which one?" Bucky asked. "Rocky…" You mumbled. Sam laughed loudly and cheered. "Boom! In your face, Barnes!!!" He yelled. Bucky rolled his eyes before shrugging Sam's arm off of his shoulder.

"So, do you like sweet stuff?" Steve asked. I nodded with a smile. He hummed and went back to separating the two idiots who were now fighting. I made my way back over to the couch and lied down. I stared in awe when a cat jumped up on the couch with me and curled onto my chest. I pet it gently, being careful not to hurt it. My own eyes slowly closed and I let out a final yawn before darkness consumed me.

(Time skip)

I woke up later when I heard some laughing coming from the kitchen. I sat up and looked over and saw Peter sipping on a chocolate milkshake. I smiled and quickly got up, making my way over to him. I picked him up and cuddled my face into him. He laughed loudly and clutched his cup close to him.

"H-Hey! Put me down! That tickles!!" He yelled. I licked his lips, tasting the sweetness on his lips. Soon, I pulled him into a soft kiss. He pulled away and I had a big smile on my face. "Ah. I spilled it on my shirt." He said.

I felt my heart stop for a moment. I stared at his body that had that sweet liquid on it. I couldn't help myself but lick it off of him. His flavor mixed with the sugary drink made something stir inside of me. I let out a low growl and went into a storage closet flat back in the hallway. I locked the door and pulled off his shirt and jacket. I set him on a table

He looked up at me with glossy eyes. "M/n…?" He whimpered softly. My eyes dilated and I poured some of the drink on his body. He shivered and squirmed and tried to wipe it off. I ran my tongue across his chest, gripping his hips to keep him still. He gasped and ran his fingers through my hair. "M/n~ W-Wait- Ngh~" He let out a moan when I licked over his nipples. I looked into his eyes. "Tasty~" I purred.

He gasped and looked down at my crotch. "Your…hard." He said. I looked down and saw my enormous bulge sticking out of my pants. I sat on the floor and sat him in my lap. I gripped his hips and grinded him against my cock. He whined and wrapped his arms around my neck. I purred into his ear, hoping to communicate that I loved him.

"M/n! W-Wait! G-Gonna cum!" He cried out. I tilted my head as he arched his back and muffled his moans. I smelt a sweet aroma coming from him. I let out a dominant growl and pinned him on the floor. I yanked his pants down and discovered the sweet smell. Peter's face exploded in a shade of red and he closed his legs. "You don't…really like me that way. I think your feelings are mixed up with something else-" I cut Peter off with a passionate kiss. I held him in my arms. "I…do love…you, Peter." I murmured to him.

He looked at me with teary eyes. "R-Really…?" He sobbed. I nodded with a smile. He smiled back and squirmed out of my arms. He slowly pushed me onto my back. "I-I want to please you too…" He whimpered and tugged my pants and underwear down. His eyes widened at my huge cock. I blushed a bit and gave him a look, telling him he didn't have to. His lips wrapped around the tip of my cock and slowly inched down. I let out a groan and rested my hand on his head.

He only got a quarter of the way down before he choked and pulled up. I sat up, worried that he would hurt himself. He grinded against my leg. "How big are you?" Peter whispered and went a bit further down. "16 inches…right now." I mumbled shyly. He shivered and pulled off for some air. I gently set him in my lap. "We…don't have to…do it. Don't wanna…hurt you." I mumbled.

He smiled and kissed my collarbone. "Please. I want to do it with you." He whispered. I nuzzled him close to me. I let out groans as I quickly self lubricated myself, liquids pouring out of my tip and all spread on my cock. I gently squeezed his hips before lowering him down slowly.

He bit his lip as the tip poked inside of him. I stopped, seeing him shift in discomfort. I laid him down and slowly inched my bit inside of him. His breathing was shaky as he watched my cock disappear inside of him. "Peter…" I growled. I stopped half way and let him rest. His legs were shaking and I could feel him twitch around me. "O-Oh my god! It feels so good!" He yelled. I nervously put a hand over his mouth. He rolled his hips against me and I slowly inched more inside. He cried out into my hand and came on his tummy. My eyes dilated more at that. I shoved the rest inside him and he let out a long and needy moan.

His tummy was bulging to try and fit my cock. Peter's body was twitching with need. "Please! Fuck me! Need it! Please! Harder! " Peter cried out. I grabbed his shirt and tied it around his head, muffling his moans. I switched locations and put him on the table. I pressed a button so the table raised slowly so I could stand upright and not couched down. Peter's legs were dangling off the table. I slammed in and out of him. I intertwined my hands with him and leaned down to kiss his pretty red neck. His whole body was heating up from embarrassment and pleasure. I quickly grew another pair of arms and used one to hold up his thigh and the other to jerk him off. He spasmed and came on my hand loudly. I sunk my teeth into his neck, marking him up so everybody knew he was mine. His cute body twitched and writhed under me. "Such a cute boy~ My mate is so pretty~" I cooed into his ear and slammed inside as deep as I could go.

His cock twitched when I ran my finger over his tip and he squirted all over the table. His eyes were hazy and far away. I smirked and took one of my hands off of his hand and ran it over his bulging tummy. "So full of my cock~ You're going to make a wonderful mate~ I truly do love you~ And after we get home, I'm going to breed you so many more times, My pretty mate~" I dominantly growled.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he squirted again. Tears were streaming down his face and his cock went limp from overuse. I tilted his face to look at me and I pulled him into a longing but rough kiss. He lazily kissed back, his back arched again and he came all over the table. "Pretty~" I breathed out and thrusted roughly a few more times and filled his tummy with my cum.

He let out a broken cry and squirted on the table one last time. He went limp in my arms, his cock dripping with pre-cum. I slowly pulled out and smiled when my cum didn't follow. My cock softened and felt satisfied. I laid him on the ground and flipped him over, licking his hole and cock clean. He whimpered and sleepily squirmed. I made sure he was clean and awkwardly helped him put his clothes back on. I quickly pulled mine on and I cleaned the table. I retracted my extra arms and used both of my arms to hold Peter as we exited the room. I found happy and asked him to take us back to Peter's house.

We got there after a bit and I laid him down in bed, quickly checking him to make sure that I didn't hurt him. I shuffled next to him and hugged him as I fell asleep with him as well.

Next up: Clint Barton x Male reader

#avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel #x male reader #male reader #marvel fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #mcu spiderman #spiderman x male reader

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 7 months

Note

Big Cats AU:

Cheeta!Ruby is overcome by a big case of the Zoomies. Normally this isn't much of an issue as she'd be contained by her enclosure. This time she had managed to get out and go on a stroll before the Zoomies struck her.

Now she zipping to-and-fro, challenging everything and everyone to a race and just expending a metric tonne of energy, chittering and meowing away at a mile-a-second.

Aaaaand she's tired now. Good night.

Love it! Let's go!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Cheetah!Ruby and Tiger!Yang are leisurely walking through the streets of Vale after breaking out of their enclosures to properly stretch their legs. Tourists scream and run in terror. Locals nod at the danger kitties as they pass. Some even give them treats.

Cheetah!Ruby: Thanks for coming with me, Yang. My legs were really starting to cramp up.

Tiger!Yang: No problem, Rubes! Last time you came into the city, you got into the middle of a robbery.

Cheetah!Ruby: Hey! That is so not fa-

Tiger!Yang: ...Ruby?

Cheetah!Ruby: (stopped dead in her tracks and giving off a thousand yard stare)

Tiger!Yang: (waves her massive paw in front of Ruby's face) Helloooooo, Vale to Ruuuuuuby.

Cheetah!Ruby: (starts vibrating)

Tiger!Yang: Oh....

Cheetah!Ruby: (vibrates harder)

Tiger!Yang: Oh, no....

Cheetah!Ruby: (vibrates violently)

Tiger!Yang: Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, don't. No. Remember your breathing. Take deep, calming breaths.

Cheetah!Ruby: (blasts from a complete stand still like a cartoon down the street, leaving behind a smoking, black trail on the pavement in her wake) WOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Tiger!Yang: (fur whipped in the direction C!R ran) ......Yeeeaaaahhh, that's not ideal....

Cheetah!Ruby: (sprinting as fast as she can through the streets of Vale) I'M THE WIND!!! I AM SPEED!!! NOTHING CAN CATCH ME!!!! (speeds passed a car) SUCK LESS, CAR!!! GO FASTER!!! (sprints passed a bus) YOU MAY BE NAMED AFTER A FAST DOG, BUT I'M FASTER!!! (runs alongside a train for a surprising chunk of time) COME ON!!! THAT ALL YOU GOT!?!?!?! I CAN STILL BEAT YOU!!! I'LL PASS YOU BEFORE YOU GET TO THE EMERALD-

C!R's Internal Gas Tank: (blows a gasket and fuel gage plummets to E)

Cheetah!Ruby: (pauses mid-air and slams into the ground, sliding across the grass until she finally skids to a halt, completely passed out and snoring) hoooooonk-mememememe.... hooooonk-memememememe.....

Tiger!Yang: (rides up in the bed of Old Man Shopkeep's truck) Well... at least the road rash is minor this time....

#yang xiao long #rwby #ruby rose #rwby crack post #rwby shitpost #big cat au #cheetah ruby #tiger yang #ruby the speed demon

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sheisburiedhere · 1 year

Text

Welcome Neighbor

Chapter One: I'm... Sweetie

Paring: Wally darling x Y/N Sweetheart

Warnings: nothing to worry about neighbors at least...not as yet.

The Darkness

It feels as if it's consuming you as it drags you to the depths of it's unknown ,blocking your vision, clouding your memory, stripping you of your identity. You try to scream but no sound can be heard as your throat fill with intense heat and smoke after every attempt. You close your eyes. You're relentless, you won't stop , someone will help you, you just need to keep on trying ...

The Light

For a moment all is quiet as your screams cease, whatever had it's grasp on you decided to let you go.You feel warmth on top you and a gentle cold below. You hear the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves,you frown your eyebrows wondering where could you be but scared to open your eyes. You muster all courage that's in you and open them to see...

A yellow brick road that surrounds various houses each with very distinct colours and designs. You spin around to observe the rest of your surroundings realising you are on the floor, you push yourself up to stand with both of your hands...

Your hands...

These aren't my...

A shiver goes up your spine...

Your hands are embroidered with a tiny heart on the palms,you look further up to realise your joints are covered in stitches of gold thread. You sweat slightly,as you watch down to see your in a red and white polka dot dress with white stockings and red flats. You instinctively pull out a mirror from your dress and look in disbelief at your reflection. Shiny skin and plump red red lips with your (h/c) hair in a half up bee hive. Your eyes falls on your neck as you see a heart shaped necklace with the word , 'Sweetheart'.

You take in everything that you see in the mirror as take notice of the one thing that raises your brows is your eyes...

Hazel brown heart shaped pupils of your eyes

...

You close the mirror and place it back in your skirt as the sound of footsteps approach you with a loud but friendly, " Hello!". You turn quickly and smile with realising that you are grasping on the something in your hand. "A suitcase huh," you thought to yourself , you turn towards them , taking a hand to wave and giving a great big smile. "Hi there!" You say still grinning,you are greeted by a excited puppet named Julie Joyful. "Oh my name is y/n Sweetheart but my friends call me Sweetie, I just moved here but I'm having a bit trouble finding my house"you tell her without having to think about. She grabs your hand to lead you to the house that is particularly new to their neighborhood,which looks just like your outfit. She talks alot then hugs you and leaves you there to unpack.

You smile , now you have a friend

...

Something is wrong...

How do I know this stuff...I have to remember me...

A knock interrupts your thoughts, you walk to the door and open it to see ,a tall attractive yellow puppet in a blue cardigan and rainbow striped pants. He has a red blush dusted on his cheeks and your eyes widen as you realise you have been staring him down. You cover your face in embarrassment apologizing to him," I am so so sorry," you exclaimed, he takes your hand and smile, " It's really fine I had a quick look myself ,I hope you didn't mind" he chuckled rubbing the back of his neck, " I came to introduce myself to my new neighbor, My name is Wally darling," he says placing a what seems to be a kiss on your hand ,which was a him touching your hand with his mouth and making a muah sound. This made your heart melt and your body feel warm as you eyes turn to a shade red. "Oh! You have very beautiful eyes," he says in awe. You close them smiling not aware of the change and thank him. " Mines is y/n Sweetheart but call me Sweetie-" You open your eyes back up to see his pupils huge and black like a hungry cat seeing a bird

His eyes...

He reverts to it's previous state,as he asks "Would you like to for a walk around the neighborhood tomorrow and have a picnic with me? It will be a great opportunity to meet everyone"

You smile, "That would be very nice Wally, Thank you"

He bids you a good day as he leaves ,you close the door and rest your forehead on it smiling... forgetting your situation. You go to your bedroom and rest , dreaming about tomorrow.

Let's hope everything goes well...

"Welcome Home Neighbor," he chuckles watching you from his home window with his huge black eyes.

#wally darling #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #requests are welcome #welcome home

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helplesslypurple77 · 6 months

Text

Day 10- Mori/Atsushi/Fukuzawa- with promts Spitroasting & threesome

Notes: So just pretend that the Q mess was instantly cleaned up or something, i don't want to deal with it. But Francis is still out there, menacingly or whatever. I literally could not figure out when Atsushi finds out that Mori is the boss of the port mafia, so I'm going to assume Atsushi doesnt know at this point.

Also im keeping some age gap because it's hot but I'm making Atsushi twenty instead of eighteen. Btw the legal age of drinking in japan is 20, i checked

“Um Sir, are you sure it's ok for me to come?” Atsushi twists his hands in circles, following closely behind Fukuzawa as they make their way down a brightly lit street. “Yes, of course. This was your idea, Atsushi, so you deserve to be there.” Fukuzawa walks in long strides, looking unfamiliar in a three piece suit. Atsushi walks double to keep up, the pants of his own suit, kindly gifted to him by the President, stiff and hard to run in. They fit perfectly, almost like they were tailor made to his body measurements. The President slows down slightly, allowing Atsushi to walk beside him. He shoots the shorter boy an apologetic glance.

They walk through downtown Yokohama at dusk. The lights have come on, and the roads are choked with cars, people on their way home from work probably. The sidewalks are busy as well, and people pore in and out of the brightly lit restaurants, laughter perfuming the air. In all honesty, Atsushi had not thought that Fukuzawa would accept his suggestion of an alliance. He was a new member of the Agency after all, and an Alliance with the Port Mafia sounded a little crazy, even to his ears. But to his surprise, Fukuzawa had accepted with only a few clarifying questions. And so here they were, walking down a main restaurant district street apparently going to meet with the boss of the port mafia.

“Um Fukuzawa Sir?” They stop at a red light, and Fukuzawa turns those eyes on him. “Yes?” Honestly when Atsushi had first arrived at the detective Agency he had been scared of the president. But then, he saw him cooing over cats in the backyard and his image was forever changed. “Well, I was wondering where we’re going.” The light changes and they move across the street, toward where the more expensive restaurants are. “We’re going to the meeting.” Fukuzaw responds.

Atsushi feels lost. He follows Fukuzawa, dodging the occasional pedestrian as people pass by them. Large groups, clearly leaving work parties. Loves truck couples on dates, families headed to dinner. Even the occasional large group of giggling school girls, who shoot Fukuzawa dreamy eyed stares. I mean it makes sense. The President is a handsome man and he looks especially dashing in a suit. It's a dark grayish green three piece, with a white shirt and a yellow green tie. Atsushi’s own outfit is fancy as well, a black double breasted vest, a dark gray shirt and black tie pulling the whole thing together. It's expensive, Atsushi can tell from the fabric. The same group of girls shoots Atsushi a jealous look as he catches up, and Fukuzawa grips his waist, pulling him away from a biker careening a bit too close to the sidewalk. Atsushi ignores their angry stares.

“Um sir, sorry but i'm a little confused.” Atsushi says, leaving the high school girls angry stares behind. “I thought we were going to the Port Mafia building.”

“We decided that instead of going to meet in a public park or something, we would meet somewhere else.” Fukuzawa sighs, an angry tick in his jaw. “Mori insisted, after I told him I was bringing you, for some reason.” That name sounds familiar, but Atsushi just can't place it. And for some reason, it looks like the President and this Mori fellow know each other better than Fukuzawa had let on. “We’re here.” The president says.

They’ve come to a stop outside of a sushi restaurant. It's a new age design, and Atsushi blanches as he spots the line out the door that weaves around the corner. People, mostly couples, lined up around the corner, dressed in semi formal outfits and anxiously checking watches. Every few minutes a smartly dressed waiter steps out of the restaurant, and whispers something to the Maitre D who nods, calling out a number and guiding a group through the foggy double doors. But just as fast as someone goes in, three more people get in line behind. Atsushi frowns, following Fukuzawa as he marches straight up to the maitre d, a smartly dressed woman standing behind a small podium by the double glass doors. The woman glares. “Can't you see we have a line, Sir.”

Atsushi flinches. She’s rather rude for someone running the front of a restaurant. Fukuzawa mearly sighs. “We have a reservation for a back room.” The woman glares on, unimpressed. “Card?” Fukuzawa hands her a small golden card. There's black writing on it, but Atsushi can't quite make it out. The woman flips it around, scanning the letters with a magnifying glass, carefully looking for something, what Atsushi doesn't know. But after a minute or so, she nods, and a waiter steps out from behind the frosted double doors, smiling much more pleasantly at the two of them. “If you and your date will follow me, Sir.” Atsushi flushes, and opens his mouth to protest but Fukuzawa just slips a hand on his waist, a silent confirmation.

“Come on Dear, this way.” Atsushi knows he’s blushing like a tomato, but he does the wise thing and shuts up as the waiter leads them through a crowded restaurant. Fukuzawa leans down. “Sorry Atsushi, but bear with it for now. They won't let you in without a reservation card.”

He must be talking about that strange little golden card Fukuzawa gave the Maitre D earlier. Face still steaming, Atsushi manages a nod and clutches at Fukuzawa’s dark suit jacket in what he hopes is a ‘couply’ way. Fukuzawa’s hand is big, big enough to wind quite a long way around Atsushi’s waist. Atsushi can feel the heat of it through his layers. Fukuzawa is a good bit taller than him as well, and as Fukuzawa tugs him closer still Atsushi’s head hits his shoulder lightly, his silver hair brushes against it.

The room the waiter leads them to is empty. The room is small, with a large table set for three waits for them in the middle, and little outcoves full of flowers. “I’ll be back soon with the rest of your party.” The waiter says, and then closes the door behind them. A slightly awkward silence fills the small room. Fukuzawa’s hand is still on Atsushi’s waist as he leads him to a seat, placed on the short side of the rectangular table. The other two place settings are exactly opposite each other, conveniently placed just out of weapon range. They seat themselves, and before the silence can get any more awkward the door opens and a smug, familiar man follows the Waiter into the room.

“Didn't wait to seat yourselves i see, still as rude as ever huh Fukuzawa.” There, standing smartly in a pitch black suit is the strange doctor fellow Atsushi had met in Anne’s room. This time cleanly shaven and with a peculiar unfamiliar gleam in his eyes. Atsushi’s jaw almost hits the floor. Fukuzawa merely sighs. “Give your scalpels to the waiter Mori, they aren't allowed in here.” Mori chuckles darkly, and holds up his hands in surrender. Two metal scalpels are placed in the waiter's hands. The waiter for the most part looks mostly unfazed, and simply hands over the menus and is gone with a smile. Mori’s eyes fall on him, and, Atsushi must be hallucinating, he throws him a little wink. “Well well Were-Tiger, it's nice to see you again.”

The shocked look must be plain on his face because Mori chuckles. Fukuzawa turns a confused look on Atsushi. “You know him?” Atsushi picks his jaw up off the ground. “Um, when Lucy from the Guild captured me and Junichiro, he helped us.” Mori smiles, a rather predatory smile, but still attractive. “Yes that's right.” Mori sidles around the table, brushing close to Atsushi. He smells faintly of rosemary, sandalwood and something deep he can't quite place. The two men sit across from each other, twin expressions of hatred painted across their faces. Atsushi realizes all at once that this is going to be a long dinner.

“It's so nice to see you, although I see you haven't bought your creepy ability this time.” Fukuzawa flips the Menu open aggressively, as if the laminated pages have personally wronged him.

“The feeling is mutual, Fukuzawa. I see you still have a fondness for cats.” Mori gestures in Atsushi’s direction, and Atsushi flushes. “But tell me kid, how old are you?” Its and odd question, and Fukuzawa’s face visibly darkens, but Atsushi see’s no reason not to respond. “I just turned twenty.”

Mori’s dark eyes twinkle, and Fukuzawa frowns even harder. “How nice!” He gestures at the menu before him, shooting Atsushi another wink. “Order whatever you want, kitten, think of it as a late birthday gift.” Atsushi flushes at the nickname, but the prospect of free sushi almost has him drooling. “Are you sure?” He asks, although he knows his eyes are shining with anticipation. “You already gave me this nice suit Sir.” Fukuzawa’s face loses its glare as he turns to him, and smiles faintly. “Sure, we’ll split the bill.”

Atsushi can't hold back his excitement as he eyes the menu. The place is so fancy they don't even list the prices, and although it's slightly concerning, he’s not paying so he doesn't care. His mouth is watering as he stares at the nigiri. The two men chuckle at his enthusiasm. Mori smiles his way. “So, Fukuzawa bought you a suit huh?” Fukuzawa glares, Mori just smiles wider. “That's a custom tailored model, he must have prepared it early.”

“You're finally cracking Mori, that's clearly not true.” Atsushi isn't even really paying much attention, still drooling over the pictures in the menu. Mori just smirks, that feral smirk. “I bet you dreamed about seeing him—” Fukuzawa kicks him hard, Mori just smiles. “Ooh, touched a nerve. Straight laced Fukuzawa desiring a subordinate. Blasphemous.”

Atsushi catches the last words, looking up from the menu and at the two men glaring at each other. “What was that? Something about blasphemy?” Mori opens his mouth, but the waiter interrupts him, stepping back into the room with a smile.

“What can I get you gentlemen to start?”

“You want some sake kitten? I know your president does.” Mori gets another kick under the table, but Atsushi nods. The older men give their orders and the waiter leaves with a nod.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The door closes behind Atsushi with a decisive little click, on his way to the bathroom. Fukuzawa glares at the man in front of him. Mori smirks, leaning back in his chair.

“What an adorable little subordinate you’ve got.” Mori leans forward like he’s telling a secret. “Im just dying to fuck him.” Fukuzawa glares so hard he thinks his eyebrows might actually fall off. “How inappropriate, he’s much younger than both of us.” Fukuzawa hates how the suggestion brings in images he’s been dying to erase from his mind.

“But that's boring.” Mori says. Fukuzawa rolls his eyes so far back into his head that he thinks they may get stuck there. Mori continues. “I saw you staring at his cute little ass when he left for the bathroom. Nice job with the suit by the way, fits him like a glove.”

“I was not staring at his butt.” Fukuzawa totally was, but he’ll take that secret to the grave. “You can admit it to me, you know.” Mori says. He downs a cup of sake, pouring himself another. “I can imagine what I'd do to him. ” Fukuzawa can imagine it too. He glares. Mori laughs. “Oh my bad. I’d be happy to share him, maybe over the table?” Mori says. He chuckles, passing Fukuzawa the sake bottle. “Ah, reminds me of the old days.” Fukuzawa feels his thoughts drift involuntarily back to the ‘old days’. Several occasions with a woman between them in a hotel room.(and the other occasions he’d rather forget, without the woman between them. Just heat and soft skin and panted angry ‘I hate you’s. He'd rather die than think of those days again however.)

It's appalling how clearly he can imagine the scene. Atsushi’s thin body painted with hickeys, his pretty mouth spit slicked mouth wrapped around Fukuzawa’s co—

Fukuzawa coughs, clearing his throat and hopefully his brain at the same time.

“You know why we’re having this meeting in the first place Mori, so please try to be serious.” Mori bats a hand at him, much akin to the way someone would bat at an especially annoying bug. “Yeah yeah, I agree with the alliance and everything. So anyway, does Atsushi like men?” Fukuzawa almost chokes. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it's a really good idea, no matter how distasteful the idea of working with you is. But answer my question.” Mori says, sipping on the sake the waiter had returned with. “I don't know, it's not my business to pry into my coworkers' sexuality's.” Fukuzawa says, clearing his throat with a cough. “Don't be dramatic, it's called gossip.” Mori says. Fukuzawa shoots him an eye roll. Whenever the two of them are together they seem to revert to their younger selves again. It's honestly a little embarrassing. Mori sighs. “I'll just have to ask Dazai.” He takes out his phone, and scrolls through his contacts. Fukuzawa eyes it with a glare as it begins to ring. “Why do you even want to know?” Mori simply raises an eyebrow at him, wiggling it suggestively, Fukuzawa feels heat start in his neck. Mori chuckles. “Don't you want to know too, Fukuzawa.” And although he chokes out a denial, Fukuzawa listens a little two closely as Dazai picks up.

“What do you want, Mori.” Dazai sounds annoyed.

“Oh nothing, I just had a question.” Mori says, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. He almost resembles a high school girl gossiping on the phone. Almost. Ok he really doesn't.

“Shoot.”

“Does Atsushi like men?”

Fukuzawa hears a choking on the other side of the line, and faintly he can hear laughter in the background. A lot of it. Dazai must be still at work, although he’s probably not working.

“Yes–No–Why would I tell you?” Fukuzawa is almost disappointed, and then corrects his attitude and immediately congratulates Dazai in his head with only the mildest bit of bitterness.

“Your president wants to know.” Fukuzawa barely resists the urge to throw something at Mori, maybe a sake cup.

“No, no it dont. I don't care. I don't.” Fukuzawa blurts out, and that was probably a bad idea because now Mori is smirking.

“See? He wants to know.”

“Well I actually don't know, but we do have an office bet running.” Dazai says, his voice less full of venom and more amusement.

“You have a what?” Fukuzawa feels he needs to have a talk with all of them about proper office conduct, but he doubts it will have that much effect.

“Sorry Boss.” Dazai doesn't really sound that sorry at all.

“So, how's it going?” Mori sounds a bit too invested. Fukuzawa glares at him.

“Well, Yosano and i bet Bisexual, Naomi and Tanzaki think Gay, and Kunikida said he refuses to participate in such activities.” Fukuzawa makes a mental note to give Kunikida a raise.

“What did Ranpo say?” Fukuzawa asks, in spite of himself.

“We banned him from betting, it wouldn't be any fun.”

Ranpo’s voice comes out muffled through the speaker. “For the record, he’s Bisexual.” A series of groans echo through the room, and Fukuzawa can faintly hear money being passed around.

“Sorry I took so long, some ladies ambushed me by the bathrooms.” It's Atsushi, closing the door behind him with a click. “By the way, what's a sugar daddy?” Dead fucking silence wraps the room for a moment, before someone chokes on the line and the whole armed detective Agency bursts out laughing. Atsushi frowns in confusion. “The ladies by the bathrooms kept congratulating me for getting two Sugar Daddies, and said it made sense because I was pretty.” Fukuzawa feels his face burning red and even Mori across from him is flushed, even though he is smiling.

“You see Atsushi…” Damn it Dazai is still on the phone. “A Sugar Daddy is a rich older man who gives gifts to a young person in return for sex—” Mori hangs up on him with a beep, but the damage has been done, Atsushi’s face is flushed a charming red. Fukuzawa sighs, deep and long. But before he can launch into the speech he’s mentally preparing, the waiter arrives with their food. Fukuzawa resolves to leave a large tip

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Its plate by the time they finish up at the restaurant, and step out into the street. Atsushi feels full and satisfied, and it didn't cost him a scent. The two men kept their word and paid for the meal in full. Apparently Mori had agreed to the alliance, but the actual details of it where still being hammered out.

“I will not give you free reign over the harbor district.” Fukuzawa says, hand twitching for his sword. Atsushi sighs.

“Well, I need the harbor district to conduct work.” Mori says, speaking directly over Atsushi’s head. He’s sandwiched between them as they stand outside of the restaurant, and he feels very short.

“What kind of work? Illegal work?”

“We are the mafia.”

“Um Sir, if it's alright to interject.” Both men turn to look at him and he shrinks under their combined gazes. “Maybe you guys should have this conversation somewhere else? People are staring.” The bubble seemingly popped, both men look around and take in the different kinds of stares their getting. The angry stares of people trying to go around them on the street, the curious stares of people in line, and even a few stares of disgust, from people who probably still think that these men are his ‘sugar daddies’. Atsushi flushes a little at the implications.

“We can go to my office.” Mori offers. Fukuzawa glares. “And probably have to fight through several hundred armed guards?” And now they're arguing again. Atsushi is distinctly reminded a bit of Dazai and Kunikida, if Dazai and Kunikida threw insults at each other like two year olds. It's sometimes easy to forget that Mori is perhaps one of the most powerful men in Yokohama, and the same for the president.

“Um, we could go to your office Fukuzawa sir, it's easily accessible and the only people that will be there this late at night is Kunikida.” The men turn their eyes back on him again, considering. Atsushi is kind of waiting for his suggestion to get shut down, but then Fukuzawa nods, and Mori winds an arm around his waist, subtly pulling him away from Fukuzawa.

“What an excellent suggestion Kitten! You’re quite impressive, you know.” Atsushi flushes at the praise. Fukuzawa grabs his arm, pulling him away from Mori’s arm. “This way Atsushi, hurry up.” Fukuzawa says, pulling Atsushi's arm. Mori grabs his other arm. “Now wait up, it'll be fast to call a company car. The sidewalks are choked up at this time of night. And besides,” He says, gesturing at a darkened ally. “It gets sketchy as hell around here, and I'd prefer not to get blood on this suit.”

Fukuzawa frowns, and Atsushi is sure he's going to protest just for protestings sake, but then he nods with a sigh. “Fine.” He says, dropping Atsushi’s arm.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The car was really fancy. A sleek black on the outside and inside and it even had a driver! The car ride was kind of annoying though. Fukuzawa refused to let him sit in the back with Mori, and Mori refused to sit next to Fukuzawa so Atsushi spent the car ride smashed between two handsome men who wouldn't stop throwing petty insults back and forth. He could smell them again, Mori’s scent of rosemary and sandalwood, and Fukuzawa’s clean smell, tinged with green tea. And as pleasant as that may sound, the rest of it was not. When they were not insulting each other, Mori would try to ask him a question or say something nice and Fukuzawa would swing at him over Atsushi’s head and suddenly two middle aged men were having a slap war above his head. It was the same way when Fukuzawa tried to say something to him as well.

But now it's over and they're walking up the stairs of the Agency building, and Mori is snidely insulting the building and Fukuzawa is saying something insulting right back. And Atsushi would defend the building but he has a feeling Mori doesnt actually think that he’s just saying it to fuck with Fukuzawa and Atsushi really is forgetting how powerful these two men are.

Also, through the entire night, it almost seems like Mori’s flirting with him. Now Atsushi doesn't have much experience with this stuff, and his knee jerk reaction is to deny, but then again…

“You cant do a double suicide, all by yourself~” Atsushi can hear it from all the way down the hall. Fukuzawa sighs, and murmurs something about apologizing to the people downstairs as Atsushi pulls the wooden door to the detective Agency open.

Surprisingly, a good number of people are in the office when they arrive. Dazai is sitting at his desk with headphones on singing really loudly and off-key. Kunikida is at his desk with earplugs on, pointedly ignoring Dazai. Ranpo is perched on his desk, playing some video games and munching on snacks, also with headphones in. Naomi and Junichiro are sitting at their desks, sorting thirdly through paperwork. They all look up at the three new arrivals.

Kunikida looks up a little late, pulling his earplugs out of his ears.

“So Atsushi, I see you brought your new ‘Sugar Daddies’, huh.” Kunikida, who Atsushi guesses was absent from the office during The Phone Call™, chokes on his own spit. “Wha-who, excuse me—” Atsushi can feel the flush working up his neck again. Mori smirks, and Fukuzawa, perhaps sensing danger, jumps in. “That is highly inappropriate, Dazai. We’re still negotiating contract details, Kunikida, and since we didn't finish at the restaurant Atsushi very smartly suggested we come here.”

“They were arguing about the Harbor district in the middle of the street.” Atsushi, who’s kind of tired of their nonsense, says. “And then they spent the entire car ride insulting each other over my head.”

“Yes,” Mori says, giving a fake sad sigh. “Unfortunately Fukuzawa just refused to sit in the front of the limo. So poor this kitten was squished between us.” Someone chokes, probably Kunikida and Dazai murmurs ‘kitten?’ under his breath.

“Well you refused to sit next to me, and so Atsushi had to sit between us. And I refuse to let my prescouse subordinate sit alone in the back with you, especially with the way you were eyeing him.” Fukuzawa glares, and they're at it again. Naomi sends Atsushi a sympathetic look. “They’ve been like this all night then?” She says, shooting him a small smile at his nod of conformation.

“I would never do anything in the limo, that's not my kink Fukuzawa. You know that.”

“I wish I didn't. I'll never forget—”

“Um, Fukuzawa Sir, Mr Mori Sir, how about you guys go negotiate alliance details in the office. I have some stuff i need to—”

Atsushi is interrupted by Mori’s arm, winding around his waist again. “Nonsense! Without you there we would simply devolve to bloodshed or something worse.” Mori says, his gloved hand stroking Atsushi’s waist softly. It feels nice, and Atsushi can feel the warmth of his hand through all the layers of fabric.

“For ounce, I actually agree with Mori. You can simply give your work to Dazai.” Fukuzawa says, smiling slightly. “Think of it as payback for how he pawns his work onto you.”

A few stares are traded around the office as Atsushi is dragged away. Kunikida simply looks confused, while Naomi and Junichiro trade equally knowing looks. Dazai just chuckles to himself, then goes back to his horrendous singing.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The actual process of arguing small details didn't take that too long. After about forty minutes of back and forth about the harbor district, where about halfway through Kunikida brought them some alcohol and cups and informed them the others were leaving, Fukuzawa compromised about The Harbor district. And after that, the problems just flew by. And then they were shaking hands and signing a formal document with Atsushi as witness. And then, it was all over and they were all drinking and Atsushi could feel a faint pleasant buzz. He was by no means drunk, just clearly a bit tipsy.

A record in the corner is playing slow, sexy jazz and somehow, over the ten or so minutes they’ve been drinking, Atsushi’s been sandwiched between the two men again. But this time, it's less uncomfortable because they're drinking and laughing, and both of them have taken off their coats to relax. And although they can't help but throw a dig or two in there, the constant insults have stopped, and the two of them are, if not friends, resembling something closer.

Atsushi lets himself sink back into the couch, his head hitting Mori’s arm, which slung across the back of the couch. He’s noticed over the entirety of the evening, that the man seems to be a very physical person. He would very freely touch Atsushi’s arm or waist, and even now his hand, the one currently not holding a glass of whiskey, was reaching up, stroking Atsushi’s head softly. It felt really nice. Mori was a strange man. At times Atsushi really forgot that he was the head of the port mafia, a man whose clothes were stained with blood. But, he had been quite kind to Atsushi.

And he was handsome. Very handsome in a sexy aged kind of way. Not unlike a wine. Yeah, the president was like a Wine too. A white wine though. The president was white wine, while Mori was red wine. Atsushi chuckles to himself.

“What are you laughing about, kitten?” Mori’s eyes are sparkly. He’s not sure why he didn't notice that earlier.

“Oh, i was noticing how you guys are like wine.” Atsushi says.

“Like wine?” Fukuzawa’s voice is sexy, all deep and raspy. It resonates in Atsushi’s bones, warming his body slightly.

“You guys are so handsome. In an aged kind of way.” Atsushi says. Fukuzawa chokes, and Mori chuckles. Atsushi continues, smiling slightly. “The president is a white wine, and Mr. Mori is a red wine.” Mori’s hand is tangled in his hair now, lightly massaging his scalp. It feels good.

“You think we’re handsome?” Mori says, placing his mostly empty glass on the coffee table before him. Atsushi nods. “Yes, very. I’ve been thinking about it the whole night.” He says. Someone in the back of his mind is screaming at him to shut up, but he feels pleasantly buzzed and his walls are slipping. Mori chuckles. “Well kitten, Fukuzawa and I think you're very pretty. Infact,” He leans close like he’s telling a secret, and Atsushi smells that scent of rosemary and sandalwood. “I’ve just been dying to fuck you stupid.” Atsushi feels a twinge of arousal sing though his body. He would like that, he definitely would very much so.

On his other side, Fukuzawa coughs, directing his ire at Mori. “Seriously Mori? I'm right here.” Atsushi personally see’s no problem in this, and Mori seems to agree, because he speaks directly to Fukuzawa. “Why don't you join in? Atsushi wants you to. Right Kitten?” Atsushi nods, turning to look at the President on his other side. “Yes, I want you Sir.”

“See Fukuzawa, no need to hold back.” Mori’s hand, still tangled in his hair, gently draws Atsushi’s eyes back to his own. Red eyes, pretting red eyes, twinkling with a strange light, heavy lidded. And then the hand on Atsushi’s head is pulling him forward, and Atsushi closes his eyes as Mori’s lips touch his own. Mori kisses deep, devouring Atsushi’s lips, stealing his breath away. His other hand winds up, slowly working the buttons on Atsushi’s double breasted vest, showing no hurry. Atsushi does his best to keep up, slowly following Mori’s lead. He feels a warm hand on his thigh, slowly stroking it, fingers just avoiding where he needs them to be. Fukuzawa’s other hand strokes his back, almost soothingly.

Mori’s tongue is tracing the seam of his lips now, begging for entrance. Atsushi opens his mouth. Mori is obviously experienced, his tongue tangles with Atsushi’s own much more skillfully, tracing the inseams of his mouth, all while those fingers slowly undo his buttons. The hand on his thigh is tracing closer and closer to where he needs it, and Atsushi feels like a tightly wound bobble, waiting for the caress of a hand on his hard dick.

Mori separates from his mouth, and Atsushi flushes at the dirty string of saliva that follows their separating tongues. It breaks when Mori dives back in, this time leaving little kisses on his neck. Atsushi’s head falls back, mouth parting in a soft moan as Fukuzawa’s hand finally strokes his dick. It feels good, even with layers of fabric softening the sensation.

“Feel good?” Fukuzawa is watching him, his voice dropped down to a sensual whisper. Atsushi nods. “Yes, Fukuzawa Sir.”

“Wow, Sir. That's hardcore.” Mori murmurs against his neck, and Atsushi moves as Mori’s skilled fingers undo the last button, discarding the vest on the coffee table. He presses a delicate kiss to his jaw, as his fingers move much faster, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Fukuzawa’s still applied the slightest of pressures to Atsushi’s clothed dick. He speaks right over Atsushi’s head.

“Shut up Mori.” Although his words are aggressive, his tone doesn't match. It's still all low and sensual, and Atsushi moans as his fingers dance over his dick, the teasing touches a cruel torture as Fukuzawa undoes the zipper of his pants. But it's all worth it when Fukuzawa’s hand reaches into his boxers, finally coming in contact with his dick. Atsushi’s head falls back with an embarrassing moan, and he thrusts up into Fukuzawa’s hand.

Mori had shed his gloves at some point during the drinking, and now his bare hand is trailing across Atsushi’s chest, the slightest bit of contact a delicious tease until he comes in contact with a nipple, brushing over the hard nub. Atsushi whimpers, an embarrassing sound, loud to his ears but still barely hearable over the jazz. Mori chuckles. “Such a very sensitive Kitten.” He says, shoving two fingers into Atsushi’s open mouth. “Now be a good boy and suck.” Atsushi obeys to the best of his abilities, distracted as he is by the stimulus on his dick and nipples. He sucks hard on Mori’s fingers, creating what he hopes is a pleasurable vacuum, occasionally using his tongue to trace the rough pads.

“You're doing so well, Kitten. Such a good boy.” Mori says. The praise warms his heart, and at the same time he bucks into Fukuzawa’s hand. “Praise, huh. Stand for me, Atsushi.” Fukuzawa says, his hands momentarily leaving Atsushi’s dick to push down his pants. Mori’s fingers slip out of his mouth as he gets to his feet, kicking his pants away. And then his world is spinning as Fukuzawa’s big hands grip his waist, sitting him smack dab on Mori’s lap.

“Condoms?” Mori asks, promptly shoving his fingers back into Atsushi’s mouth, rather roughly. Atsushi chokes around the intrusion, much more forceful this time, but shamefully his dick twitches at the force, and he shifts on Mori’s lap. Mori definitely notices.

“Oh, you like it rough huh.” Atsushi nods around the fingers, whimpering. Mori smirks. “How dirty Kitten, just the way I like it.” He moves his fingers out and in, and Atsushi just lets his jaw fall slack, letting Mori do what he wishes. It's arousing to surrender control, to let this dangerous man do what he wills, and Atsushi’s free hand moves down the stroke himself over his boxers. His dick is leaking, staining his boxers with a quickly spreading wet stain, and as Atsushi grinds down against Mori’s lap, he feels a large hard thing under his ass. Mori groans in his ear, and Atsushi’s world is tilted on its axis.

When the spinning stops, Atsushi finds himself laying on his hands and knees on Fukuzawa’s brown couch, Mori’s hands smoothing over his butt.

“You look so sexy like this kitten.” Mori says, his wet fingers prodding slightly at Atsushi’s hole. Atsushi shivers at the praise, and then keens as fingers penetrate his hole. It's an odd feeling, but not entirely unpleasant. But still, Atsushi feels himself flagging a little as Mori shoves his fingers in, stretching his ass out for a bigger intrusion. Mori notices.

“Does it hurt?” He says, pausing his motions, his fingers still lodged deep in Atsushi’s ass. Atsushi shakes his head. “No, just strange.”

“I see.” Mori resumes his motions, slowly withdrawing almost all the way out before he enters again, his pace slow and deep. And soon, Atsushi feels the strange discomfort turn to pleasure. And soon he’s arching his back, keening, begging for more.

“I'm back, I had to borrow some from the infirmary.” Fukuzawa says, passing a foil packet to Mori. When had he left? Atsushi hadn't noticed. He returns to the couch, bending over to kiss Atsushi harshly on the mouth. His kiss is different from Mori’s, much more aggressive, but Atsushi can't decide which one he likes more. And while he’s distracted, having his tongue sucked on by Fukuzawa, Mori slips on the condom, lining the head of his cock up with Atsushi’s ass.

He pushes in slowly but Atsushi feels it, pulling away from Fukuzawa’s mouth the moan loudly, a garbled mix of Mori’s name and nonsense. The stretch burns a little, but Atsushi finds he likes it. His back arches, eyes falling closed as Mori moves slowly, before finally stopping, all the way in. Atsushi doesn't think he’s ever felt this full. He’s left panting against the couch, Fukuzawa’s fingers tangled in his hair, soothing him.

“Such a pretty boy.” Mori coos, big hands gripping Atsushi’s waist. “Staying so still for me. Can I move, Kitten?” That nickname makes Atsushi clench down, moaning loudly out a, “Yes Mori. Oh god please yes!” Mori chuckles, and obliges. Mori sets a fast pace, his hands making good use of Atsushi’s waist, his balls slapping on Atsushi’s ass. Atsushi is moaning up a storm, eyes closed when Fukuzawa’s hand, still lodged in his hair, pulls him upward.

“Atsushi.” Atsushi opens his eyes, and comes face to face with Fukuzawa’s hard cock, bobbing in front of him. Atsushi nods, understanding what he wants. Fukuzawa’s dick is long, and heavy on his tongue, the taste faintly salty. Atsushi does his best, doing what he’d done to Mori’s fingers earlier, but he soon just surrenders and lets Fukuzawa fuck his throat.

“Such a good boy.” Mori grunts, hand reaching around to stroke Atsushi’s dick. “Taking me so well, letting him fuck your throat raw.” he leans down, cooing directly in Atsushi’s ear. “You were made for this, made to be fucked stupid.” Atsushi keens, moaning around Fukuzawa’s dick, his back arching as he cums.

“Did you cum pretty boy?” Mori says, trying for a chuckle, but ending up with more of a choked up grunt. Atsushi nods, trying his best to apologize around Fukuzawa’s dick. “No need to apologize.” Mori continues. “We’ll just make you cum again, won't we Fukuzawa?”

“Mhm.” Fukuzawa responds, much more prioritized with Atsushi’s mouth. Mori was very vocal during sex, cooing dirty talk and praise in his ear, moaning and grunting as he thrusts in and out. Fukuzawa was much more quiet, occasionally grunting or groaning quietly, but not much speaking. His dick is still twitching, already coming back to hardness as Mori fucks him hard, landing the occasional slap on Atsushi’s butt.

“No refractory period. Interesting.” Mori doesn't sound interested, he just sounds raspy and sexy and Atsushi almost comes again. And then, he hits a spot inside Atsushi that makes him white out for a second. Atsushi moans, choking around Fukuzawa’s dick, spit sliding from his mouth and landing on the couch. Mori seems to understand, and hits that spot again, and again, and again until Atsushi is cuming again, shooting ropes of semen onto the couch.

“Atsushi, ‘m cuming.” Fukuzawa says above him, shoving himself down Atsushi’s throat one more time, and soon hot seed is running down Atsushi’s throat. He swallows it all, or tries his best as he’s still cumming. “Me too.” Mori murmurs, still stroking Atsushi’s dick as his rhythm stutters, and he shoves his hips in one more time.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Work the next day is a little awkward. For him at least. The rest of the Agency has no problem interrogating him for details.

“So, what happened again?”

Atsushi sighs. “It took a whole entire dinner, car ride, and about another hour but the Alliance has been finalized. Or whatever.”

Naomi frowns. “No, that's not what we ment. We ment did—”

“Yo, lame ass detective Agency, i have something for you.” Chuuya pokes his head in, sending Dazai a glare and the rest of them mostly a confused sort of smile.

“What are you doing here mackerel?” Dazai says, his eyes darkening.

“Shut up stupid Dazai, I've been demoted to a delivery guy apparently.” Chuuya says, walking over and depositing a box in Atsushi’s desk. “Here you go Were-Tiger, it's from the boss.”

Dead silence falls for a moment, and then Dazai speaks. “I guess he really is your Sugar Daddy huh.”

Atsushi throws a pencil holder at his head.

End Notes: so, this is a thing, that exists. I dunno man. I'm going to hell. also this got long as helllll i dont know what happened

#bungou stray dogs #mariannacrxss #kinktober 2023 #bsd smut #helplesslypurple77kinktober #kinktober #bungo stray dogs smut

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teaberrii · 2 years

Text

Chapter 5: The Friendship Date (My Worst Enemy is a Cat)

Human by day. Cat by night. That’s how Scaramouche lived until you came back into his life.

Scaramouche/You

Notes: Cross-posted on Ao3. If you want me to add you to the tag list, visit the tag list post for the blog. If your user is not on the tag list, you won't be notified.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Why couldn't he take his eyes off you? You were just dressed in a different outfit. That's it.

Maybe it was the high-waisted plaid pants. Maybe it was the tank top that revealed a little of your midriff when you lifted your arms. Maybe it was the baseball cap… that was the same as his.

Whatever it was, Scaramouche couldn't take his eyes off you, and he hated himself for it. You looked over at him, and he suddenly didn't know where to look.

“Time to board the bus!”

As everyone formed a line, you lowered your hat and peeked at Scaramouche standing in the line next to yours. He was talking with a friend, but you noticed that you were wearing the same baseball cap as him. It was also the first time you saw him wearing light colours and something other than his school uniform. It was silly, but you wished you could see it more often.

When he sees you wearing a high-waisted black skirt and a dark red shirt that reveals your shoulders. Scaramouche almost lost it. Where are all these feelings coming from? It's just an outfit, for goodness sake. But it's so flattering on you that he's forced to look away, or you'd see him blushing.

“Sorry. Did you wait long?” you ask.

Scaramouche gathers his emotions and opens the passenger door for you. "It doesn't matter. Get in." He feels you staring at him, and it's starting to make him anxious. Then, he hears you chuckle softly. Finally, he forces himself to look at you. "What's so funny?"

“You’re acting like this is your first date or something.” You smile. “Oh, sorry, I mean friendship date.”

Well, you’re half right. While he’s been on dates before, he never bothered putting in much effort. "Because I'm taking this seriously." Whoa. Hold up. Did your heart just flutter? Of course, it didn't help that he said it with a straight face. "...Are you going to get in?" You look away and get into his car.

On the road, Scaramouche glances at you and asks, “...How was your time abroad?”

You have a lot of answers to that, all of which require a story. And, right now, you don’t feel comfortable sharing. “It was fine,” you finally answer. Though, it's a lie. But he doesn't have to know that. You glance at him. “What about you? Didn’t you get into the best university in the country?”

Scaramouche smiles. “Jealous?”

You give him a deadpan look. “Oh, definitely.” Then, he hears you mutter how childish he is.

Scaramouche slowly brings the car to a stop at a red light. “It was fine. A very typical university experience.”

“Did you finally let loose?” you ask, half-jokingly. “You were always so uptight.”

“I should be asking you that question. Away on your own… I wouldn’t be surprised if you turned into a different person.”

You look at him. “Well, did I?”

Scaramouche looks away from you. Of course, you're different. But, somehow, his feelings never changed. Because while you may have matured in your personality and physical appearance, he still sees you as the same girl he fell in love with so many years ago.

Before picking up speed, the car slowly inches forward. Then, Scaramouche says, "Do you want me to be honest?"

Oh, great. He'll probably tell you how you gained weight, your face looks puffy, or something that takes a jab at your intelligence, and you're just not here for it.

"Actually, I'd rather not hear it." Scaramouche glances at you. Are you sure? Well, fine. The compliments can come later. "Hey, you didn't answer my question."

“What? Are you curious if I turned into a frat boy who parties all day?”

You look at him up and down. “If you did, you cleaned up well.”

"Double major. Honours program. Part of the debate club who went to nationals and the student union vice president for two years."

Scaramouche is expecting you to counter with your own accomplishments. Knowing you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d outdone him. So, your initial silence takes him a little by surprise.

Finally, you ask, "Should I congratulate you?"

He senses the heavy sarcasm. So, just to play around a little, Scaramouche asks, “What about a kiss on the cheek?” Wait. What did he just say? He smirks. “Why are you so surprised? A kiss on the cheek can mean many things. Congratulating someone, for example.”

You scoff. “Why don't I give you a gold star instead?”

“It’s also a gesture to indicate friendship. And… we are friends now, aren’t we? Starting today.”

"We've always been friends." The words were out before you could stop them. You want to kick yourself when you see the look on his face.

“Really? Well, that’s news to me! Because… if I remember correctly, you said I was your worst enemy at one point.”

“We’re not friends,” you said flatly.

“Ouch.” Scaramouche put a hand over his heart. Then, he stopped walking. “If we’re not friends, why should I bother walking you home?” For a smart girl, you sure were dense. He sighed and hurried to catch up with you. There was no way he would leave you alone, especially when it was late. He'd bumped into you in the school library, and both of you were the last to leave. " ...Hey, what do you think of me?”

The question took you off guard. “Uh, why are you asking?”

Scaramouche put his hands behind his head. “Just curious. I mean… I am popular with the girls.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Are you expecting me to stroke your ego? You can go find someone else for that.”

Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist. You glared at him. “Just answer my question.”

Your silence was eating him alive. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest until you said, “You’re a little annoying. Too narcissistic and egotistic. In other words, you have all the qualities of someone I hate.” Scaramouche’s jaw almost dropped.

“I did not say you were my worst enemy,” you say.

"You know, maybe I should think of that as an accomplishment." He smirks. "It's not every day you get that kind of title." You roll your eyes. "But now you say that we've always been friends."

“...Drop it.”

You have no idea if he ever considered you as a friend. But the truth is, you always had since the day you met him. He was arguably fun to be around if, most of the time, all you did was bicker with him. You couldn't imagine your life being as fun as it was without him. Maybe you should've stuck around for university. Then, maybe, you wouldn't be so broken.

You and Scaramouche arrive at the aquarium just in time for lunch. As soon as you enter, your stomach growls, and you blush out of embarrassment. “Hungry?” You quickly look to your left and see Scaramouche smiling.

“A bit,” you mutter.

Then, he takes your hand and leads you to a restaurant nearby. When the waiter greets you and checks around for a free table, you glance at your hand still in his. Then, slowly, you pull your hand away and look up at him. "I can just grab something from—"

"I want to eat with you." How he's looking at you makes you forget your surroundings. That is until the waiter speaks up and ushers you and Scaramouche to an empty table for two. Once you open the menu, he asks, "Do you want to share something?" You aren't sure why you imagined sharing a milkshake, and the thought makes you shake your head a little. Scaramouche raises a brow. What are you thinking about? "Do you like calamari?"

“Yeah, sure.”

That dish is the first to arrive. Before you can eat one yourself, Scaramouche has one on his fork and holding it in front of you. “Say ahh.”

When you see his smile, you feel your cheeks grow warm. “What are you doing?”

He looks genuinely confused. "What do you think?" You take the fork from him and eat it yourself. Then, with a deadpan look, he takes his empty fork back.

After lunch, you and Scaramouche enter the exhibits in silence. You try to focus on your surroundings as you walk, but all you feel is his hand occasionally brushing against yours. Is he doing it on purpose?

Scaramouche glances at you, trying to gauge your reaction to his hand on yours. Should he continue teasing you? Or just go in for the kill? Should he just boldly confess?

Do it. Just get it over with! Scaramouche can hear the evil cat's voice inside his head. Grab her and kiss her! DO IT.

No. Just keep giving her hints. She’ll get turned off if you come off too strong. Patience is key. Scaramouche takes a breath. The voices are driving him insane.

“Hey.” Scaramouche looks up and sees you standing in front of a tank. He walks over. “That one looks like you.”

Scaramouche frowns. “Did you really just point to the ugliest fish in the tank?”

“I don’t think it’s ugly. It’s unique-looking.”

That sounds worse. "...Are you implying that I'm"—he does air quotations as he says—"'unique-looking?"

Will you please say something instead of just staring at him? It’s making his heart race with anxiety. Then, you smile. “I said it looks like you because it’s frowning. Like you were back in school”—you pinch his cheek to his surprise—“and even right now.”

As you walk away, Scaramouche sighs and looks at the fish in the tank. “Should I be thanking you?” Then, he follows you. Eventually, you walk into a large, open room. You’re standing in front of a giant tank when Scaramouche walks up beside you. You take out your phone and snap a few photos. “Hey, I found one that looks like you.”

You look at where he’s pointing and see a fish that looks surprised. “Why that one?”

Scaramouche smirks. “That was you when I kept beating you.”

“Hilarious.”

But, before you can walk away, Scaramouche gently grabs your arm and pulls you back. “Let’s take a photo together.”

“Here?”

“Where else?” Then, he awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “...Unless you don’t want to.”

"No, I do." The words were out before you could stop them. You want to kick yourself a second time.

Soon, you and Scaramouche are standing next to each other as someone is about to take your photo. Then, the person looks at you. “Can you stand closer to him?”

You awkwardly move closer. Then, you feel Scaramouche’s hands on your shoulders and hear his voice near your ear. “Relax.”

“Ooh, that one turned out pretty good! Can both of you look at the camera now?”

Once the person leaves, you and Scaramouche look through the photos. But when you see the one where he’s whispering in your ear, you’re surprised at how gentle he’s looking at you. There’s a warmth in his eyes that you’d never seen. Then, you look at yourself and see the genuine surprise on your face.

“See. The fish I told you about looks just like that.”

You turn to him with a deadpan look, not expecting to see him so close. It feels like an eternity that you're staring into his eyes. Then, you see his gaze lower to your lips. He looks back, and he leans closer… and closer…

Your eyes widen when you feel someone bump into you from behind. You quickly turn around and see a young child. He's holding a half-melted ice cream cone. "Sorry," he says. Then, he runs off.

Your heart is racing when you hear the kid's parents apologize to you. You give them a small smile and nod, and they quickly follow after their son. Was Scaramouche about to kiss you? And… were you just going to let it happen?

“Hey.” You look up at him. Scaramouche isn't looking at you as he says, “...We should get going.”

Was he really going to kiss you? He got caught up in the moment. But you didn't stop him or pull away. So… that was a good sign, right? Still, maybe he shouldn't have acted too impulsively. Think, Scaramouche. Think next—

He stops. Then, he looks over his shoulder and sees you holding his hand.

Chapter Six

Tag list: @suoshiii @feverish-dove @126dvtn @one-offmind @sweet-almonds @pooonyo @n8mareee @killuixz @w9vyy @124eve @mxrossweisse @genderfluid-insomniac @goodthingimsam

#genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scara x reader #scara x you #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin fanfic

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