#Good Enough For Someone 🗡️

[amateur-selfshipper]

If I had a nickel for every time a gray anthro former thief with 4 fingers adopted me, I would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[fairsexynasty]

ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ GHOST MOUTH — chapter one: get out and get into heaven

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: a new inhabitant? tenant? roommate? you're still not sure how this works. but there's someone new living in your apartment: spencer reid. how is he going to react to a ghost?

warnings: humor, platonic fluff, angst, drug usage, addiction...

a/n: love a good female character who literally haunts the narrative... but it's your narrative... so are you living it...? but you're dead....? like and reblog if you enjoy and don't forget, requests are open!

word count: 4.2k

JUNE 23, 2005.

I don’t remember buying this apartment. Or decorating it. Or signing the lease, for that matter. But apparently, I lived here.

Now, I just haunt it.

It’s strange, being stuck in a place you’re supposed to know but don’t. Like waking up in someone else’s skin. The furniture’s vaguely familiar—like seeing an actor who played a minor role in a movie you liked once—but the memories aren’t there to fill in the gaps.

Rachel makes it easier. Most days, anyway. She’s perched on the couch tonight, wine glass in hand, a throw blanket draped over her like a cape. “Okay, so get this,” she says, her voice dipping conspiratorially. “He texts me every morning. Like, without fail. Good morning, good night—it’s adorable.”

I hover near the window, watching her face light up as she gushes about this guy, Theo. He’s the latest in a string of hopefuls, but this one seems different. Genuine. “You think he’s the real deal?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m bracing for impact.

“I do.” Rachel practically glows. “He’s thoughtful. Funny. And he actually listens. Can you believe it?”

I can’t. Or maybe I don’t want to. If she finds her happily-ever-after, where does that leave me?

"So, yeah, he's great," Rachel was saying, voice warm and confident. She was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her as she swirled the wine in her glass. "I don't know, it's like I finally found someone who gets it, you know?"

I watched her, biting back the sharp tug of something—jealousy? Longing? Whatever it was, it gnawed at me, and I couldn’t ignore it. Rachel had started dating this guy recently. She'd told me about him a couple of times. Each time, I couldn't help but feel like... well, like I was losing her, in a way. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but the thought of her moving on without me—of her living a life I wouldn't be a part of—felt like it was breaking something inside of me.

I didn't say anything, of course. I never did. What was I supposed to say? The girl was talking about her future with some guy who was clearly making her happy, and here I was—dead, ghosting around her apartment, just... existing.

She didn't need me anymore. I couldn't tell her I was scared. I couldn't tell her I felt like I was slipping away, like the life I remembered was fading fast and I had nothing left to hold onto. Rachel had a future to live. I... I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to do with what little I had left.

I just kept my distance, lingering in the corner of the room, watching as she sighed and took another sip of her wine.

It wasn’t the worst thing, I told myself. It wasn’t like I had to keep reminding her I was here. It wasn’t like I had a purpose anymore. I had no idea why I couldn’t move on, no idea how I died or what my life had been before it all fell apart. The only thing that seemed real anymore was the fact that Rachel still let me be here, let me talk to her in the little ways I could.

And that, for now, would have to be enough.

“He’s got this dorky laugh, too,” she continues, oblivious. “It’s cute. Like, ugly-cute. You know what I mean?”

I nod, even though she’s not looking. I know exactly what she means. What I don’t know is what happens when this man goes from “guy she’s seeing” to something more permanent. Does she stop needing her wine-and-gossip buddy? Does she stop needing me?

I shake off the thought. It’s not fair to Rachel. She deserves a shot at happiness, with or without me haunting her living room.

Still, the idea twists in my chest like a knife.

She laughs at something on her phone and reaches for her wine. “Anyway, enough about me. How was your day?”

I give her my best deadpan. “Unproductive. Again. Shocker.”

Rachel grins. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Will I?

I glance at the TV, where the menu flickers with mindless options. Maybe I will. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, I’m here. Stuck. For as long as this world lets me be seen, I’ll keep showing up.

Because what else can I do?

NOVEMBER 27th, 2006

One could say that I was currently, extremely upset. But that would be an understatement. I was fucking pissed. What do you do when your favorite resident of your haunted apartment moves out? After three years of watching over her, getting to know her, and eventually making yourself known to her– how do you start over? How do you haunt someone new?

Rachel was the one thing that kept me busy. She gave me more than enough reason to wander out of the apartment and practice the ability to leave the building. I’m not agoraphobic, I’m just trapped. And dead.

I can’t say exactly why I can leave some days and am stuck the others. It takes a lot of energy from me, so much so that I can feel myself disappearing from Rachel’s sight. The overstimulating feelings stick themselves in my joints, leaving me rugged and lapsed energetically. I don’t know what it is. I can’t name it.

I can’t even tell you where the hell my body is or what happened to me. It sucks. Not knowing where you end up or how it happens after living a life where people come up with endless theories about it. You’d think that one of the many ideas has to be accurate, and you’ve either been living your life all right or wrong.  But I couldn’t tell you. I can’t make sense of it myself.

Rachel understood that. She spent her Sunday nights with me, cooking in the kitchen, playing my favorite songs I’d request, and sipping on her favorite bottle of Noir while I vented, told stories, or just rambled. I never had a best friend like her. Not while I was alive, that’s for sure.

Talking about myself in the past tense is another tricky part of being a ghost. Yes, I am dead, and I may not know where my corpse is or how I died, but I still exist. My soul is alive, so am I still a being? Is it “I am” or “I was”? We could look at it from a technical point of view. I currently offer no value to the world around me. I cannot contribute or benefit from my environment in any way possible unless you count Rachel. I cannot eat, sleep, or drink. I can still learn, I can experience, and I can feel. But I cannot disrupt the environment around me. So, by that knowledge, that makes me… still confused. I’m not smart enough to find a solution here. I took one ethics class in college, and even then, we only talked about poverty. I don’t understand quantum mechanics, and I believe in the supernatural. It doesn’t make me a credible source.

However, through all the (lack of) noise, I’ve discovered my new friend might be a credible source: Dr. Spencer Reid. It might take him a couple of months to see me, but for Rachel, it took me a year. But I have more faith in myself now.

My new friend is moving in today. November 27th, 2006, three years, seven months, and eleven days since this apartment was mine.

I can hear him coming up the stairs. A couple of mutters are in the background, so I assume he has people helping him move in. Great. More people to take up my space. I’ll probably find myself sitting on the kitchen counter the entire time while I psychotically stare at him. The doorknob wiggles and then clicks, a sign Spencer’s successfully used his key for the first time.

The door creaks open, and Spencer's voice filters in before his lanky figure even makes it through. “Okay, let’s just leave everything in the box until we bring the rest up, and then we can move the furni—oh.” He freezes mid-step, eyes locking onto mine. “Um… hello there.”

He looks like someone just handed him a live grenade and politely asked him to hold it. His friends? Oblivious. A gorgeous, sharp-eyed woman with dark hair and a towering, muscular man with rich brown skin saunter in behind him, oblivious to my presence.

“Who are you?” Spencer blurts.

I raise an eyebrow from my very cozy sprawl on the couch Rachel left behind—one leg draped dramatically over the plush velvet arm. “Oh, so you can see me,” I purr, enjoying his squirm. “How delightful.”

Spencer’s jaw works, but no sound escapes. Meanwhile, his friends exchange concerned looks like they’re debating calling a medic.

“Uh, Spence?” The woman—let’s call her Sexy Boss Barbie—tilts her head, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Who, exactly, are you talking to?”

Spencer points to me, his face a mix of confusion and terror. “Her!”

The man snorts, folding his arms like he’s humoring a toddler with an imaginary friend. “Kid, there’s no one there. Are you feeling okay? Dizzy? Dehydrated? Seeing, you know, stuff?”

“I’m fine! Are you okay? Do you not see the woman lounging on the couch?!” Spencer’s voice rises an octave, clearly distressed. “She’s waving!”

I sit up, slowly, brushing imaginary lint off my clothes. “Spencer, darling,” I say with a smirk, “they can’t see me. To them, you sound completely unhinged. Certifiable. Just batshit crazy.”

Sexy Boss Barbie’s eyes widen suddenly, as if the final piece of a years-long puzzle has just clicked into place. “Oh my god.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “It’s real. The rumors were true!”

“What rumors?” Spencer snaps, panic edging into his voice.

“The ghosts!” She throws her hands up, spinning to the muscular guy. “There’s been all this buzz about hauntings and poltergeists, and I heard they asked Fiona Caulins and her spooky little team to investigate. I thought it was a prank!”

The guy groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Prentiss, you’re telling me the FBI is officially ghost-hunting now? Do we get proton packs, or is that too much taxpayer money?”

Prentiss—because clearly she has a name now—waves dismissively at him and turns to me with the same enthusiasm as someone meeting a celebrity. “Hi, ghost! Please don’t murder my friend, he’s very nice, smart, and has a soft heart. Also, I’m too tired for a paranormal brawl.”

I narrow my eyes at Spencer, just to make him squirm a little more. “Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you.”

His gasp is chef’s kiss levels of comedic. “Please don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

“Emily,” the guy warns, sounding like the parent of the world’s most reckless child.

Spencer waves a hand awkwardly at me, trying to keep his composure. “I’m just going to assume you’re joking. For my own sanity. Because being kind is important. Even if you’re, you know…” He gestures vaguely toward me. “…dead.”

The guy throws up his hands and makes a beeline for the door. “You know what, Pretty Boy? Nope. I’m out. I’ll grab the rest of your boxes, but I am not dealing with Casper’s pissed-off cousin.”

“I’m not haunting,” I clarify, even though his retreating footsteps suggest he doesn’t care.

Prentiss steps closer, her eyes sparkling with the kind of curiosity that spells trouble. “Maybe you’re stuck here,” she offers helpfully, gesturing to my general direction like she’s presenting an exhibit at a haunted museum. “Are you stuck here?”

I shrug. “No clue.”

“She doesn’t know,” Spencer parrots, clearly regretting his life choices.

“But I don’t mind it,” I add cheerfully.

“She doesn’t mind it,” Spencer echoes, his face a study in pure, resigned chaos.

By the time all of his belongings are finally moved in, I’ve become an unofficial connoisseur of Spencer’s panicked glances. Every other moment, our eyes meet, and he looks like someone just told him Santa Claus isn’t real—or, in this case, that ghosts are. He’s clearly grappling with the idea, the gears in his brain probably spinning so fast they might combust. I mean, he’s a doctor. A man of science, logic, and reason. Ghosts? That’s the kind of thing that could either utterly shatter his worldview or send him spiraling into some kind of quantum physics rabbit hole. Probably both.

Emily and Derek—whose names I picked up during their bickering about me (I’m already a hot topic, apparently)—finally call it a night as the sun dips below the horizon. There’s a brief exchange of goodbyes, Emily offering Spencer a quick “Call if you need me!” while Derek mutters something about sage and holy water under his breath.

Once the door clicks shut behind them, the apartment falls into an awkward quiet. Spencer stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door as if considering bolting out of it himself. Eventually, he turns, slowly, to find me perched on the kitchen counter, swinging my legs.

His mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again. He’s clearly malfunctioning. “I, uh—”

I hold up a hand to stop him, smiling. “Let me make this easier for you. I’ll set some ground rules, okay?” His eyes widen, but I plow ahead. “First, I promise I won’t distract you unless you explicitly ask me to. Second, I’m not going to walk into the bathroom while you’re in there—because, seriously, why would I? Third, if you bring someone over—or if you’re already seeing someone—I’ll clear out and head downstairs. Lastly, I can leave this apartment, but leaving the building? That’s… a work in progress.”

Spencer blinks at me, stunned into silence. He doesn’t move for a beat, then nods. It’s the kind of nod you give when someone hands you a parachute and says, you’re jumping now.

I smile at him. “Feel better?”

He clears his throat, and it’s like he’s rebooting in real time. “Well, um… ghosts.” His tone shifts, slipping into what I suspect is his comfort zone: pure academic lecture mode. “The belief in ghosts is deeply rooted in human history, spanning cultures and civilizations for thousands of years. For example, the ancient Egyptians believed in the ka, the soul, which stayed connected to the body after death—hence, mummification. Similarly, in Greek mythology, spirits, or shades, resided in the underworld but could occasionally wander the mortal realm if disturbed.”

I blink at him, genuinely impressed. “Wow. That’s… actually fascinating. How do you know all that?”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and I can read up to 20,000 words per minute.”

I stare at him, deadpan. “Okay, that is harder to believe than me being a ghost.”

He sighs, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in… all of this, I never even asked your name.”

“It’s fine,” I say with a little laugh. “And for the record, it’s nice to… coexist with you. So, uh, are you the tenant of my home, or am I the tenant of yours?”

That earns me a small, tentative smile from him, the first real one I’ve seen. “How about we just say we’re roommates for now?”

I chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “Roomies it is, Spencer.”

“Cool.” He says it with a nod like he’s trying the word out for the first time, and it’s paired with a shy smile that feels surprisingly genuine. “Roomies.”

FEBRUARY 13, 2007

Being “roomies” with Spencer isn’t what I expected at all. I thought it'd be a relief when I found out about his job—hunting serial criminals with his team, including Derek and Emily. I wouldn’t have to worry about being a constant bother since he’d be out on cases, gone for days or weeks at a time. But what I didn’t anticipate was this hollow ache, this new kind of loneliness creeping in.

With Rachel, there was a rhythm to our days. A routine. Something grounding that kept me tethered to whatever semblance of stability a ghost can have. But Spencer? Spencer is chaos wrapped in quiet. He comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders and disappears into his room, leaving me to drift through the empty spaces he leaves behind.

Sometimes, he’s so silent it unnerves me. He’ll come through the door after a long trip, his face drawn, and I’ll sit there, helpless, unsure if I should say something or just… vanish. What could I possibly do to help? I don’t know him well enough to give him meaningful advice. I can’t offer something as simple as a hug or even a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

But I watch him. I’ve learned his habits. The way he quietly checks on me as if I’m a lost pet instead of the spectral figure on his couch. The nights when he’s too tired to make it to bed, passing out on the couch instead. I’ll sit near him for a bit, just in case he wakes up from a nightmare. Watching over him makes me feel… useful, even if I can’t do much.

One night, I finally could.

It was after a case in Georgia. The night before he left, he’d been out drinking with his team, laughing and light in a way I hadn’t seen before. When he returned to grab his go-bag, there was a slight buzz to him—a looseness in his step and a rare smile. But he was gone within minutes, off to chase the darkness again.

When he came back a week later, he wasn’t the same.

The moment he walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction like he’d been clawing at it. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cool air. His hands trembled as he locked the door—so slight, anyone else might’ve missed it. But I noticed.

“Hi,” I offered softly from the couch, not bothering with the usual pleasantries like How was the case? That felt pointless—or worse, like it might set him off.

He glanced at me briefly before his eyes darted away. “Hey,” he mumbled, his voice distant, hollow. He crossed the room to his bedroom door, hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m going to bed.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t even bother turning on the light for anything.

At around three in the morning, I heard it. Muffled groans that turned into sharp cries, then full-throated shouts. It was a raw, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. I rushed into his room, instinct taking over.

“Spencer!” I called, shaking his arm as gently as I could. My fingers brushed against his sweat-drenched skin, and I held on tighter, desperate to pull him out of whatever hell he was trapped in.

He woke with a gasp, his eyes wide and wild. For a moment, he didn’t even seem to see me. Then his gaze focused, softening just slightly. But then he noticed my hands on his arms and recoiled, shaking me off like I burned him.

“Why are you touching me?” he demanded, his voice sharp and panicked. “How are you touching me?”

I blinked, just as shocked as he was. “I—I’m not sure. But you were having a nightmare, and I just… I wanted to help.”

His expression hardened. “I didn’t need help. I would’ve woken up and assessed my situation on my own.” He sat up straighter, his tone clipped. “You can go now.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. “No. Spencer, what happened to you? You were hurt, weren’t you?”

His laugh was bitter, cold. “I just left hell. I’m not interested in taking a guided tour back.”

I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen this before—the trembling hands, the sheen of sweat, the distant, unfocused gaze. I’d been around enough parties, enough people experimenting with everything from weed to molly to coke, to recognize the signs.

“What were you given?” I asked, my voice firm.

His jaw tightened. “Basically drugstore heroin,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

He’s addicted. Probably became dependent on it during the entire situation, which means he had to have been administered it regularly, given the shit that gets you hooked after just one time. There was no way he hadn’t went out and got more. That was a craving that he hadn’t killed yet. Couldn’t kill. Not on his own. I sighed, my heart sinking. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“I’m not telling you,” he snapped, glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Spencer, I think I can touch things now, sort of. I’ll find it if I have to.”

His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked utterly defeated. “I need it,” he whispered.

His confession hit me harder than I expected. “Why?”

“Because he was right,” Spencer said, his voice trembling. “It makes everything quiet. And for someone like me, a little silence is…” He trailed off, his gaze distant. “It’s more than appreciated.”

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to tell him what he should do, why drugs are bad, and why addiction kills. “Okay. I get it. But it’s not an excuse.” I paused, searching his face. “It’s in the safe, isn’t it?”

His silence was all the confirmation I needed.

JUNE 28, 2008

Dark as it may have been, Spencer’s struggle had given me something I hadn’t felt in years—a purpose. That first night, there was fighting, crying, and, strangely enough, an ice cube or two. It was chaotic and raw, but it gave me something to hold onto. The following week was the same—a tense repetition of stubborn refusals and quiet breakdowns. But the week after? That’s when I noticed changes—not just in him, but in me.

I discovered I could interact with the physical world in ways I hadn’t been able to before. I could cook, organize, and even leave the apartment… well, sort of. My first attempt ended with me walking face-first into an invisible wall about twenty feet from the building’s exits. Still, it was progress. It was proof I wasn’t entirely stuck.

A year later, Spencer doesn’t like to talk about that time. To him, it’s a chapter better left in the past—something he’s learned from, something that shaped him, but not a story he’s eager to tell. His team knows, though. Hotch and Morgan make sure the hospital staff know not to administer narcotics if he’s ever injured. It’s a silent understanding among them, a protective measure born from experience.

When it does come up, Spencer is quick to deflect. If someone brings it up, he’ll steer the conversation into safer, stranger territory. Like the first time Penelope Garcia accidentally mentioned it. Without missing a beat, Spencer quipped, “Yes, but want to know something crazier? I’m roommates with a ghost.”

And that’s how Penelope Garcia ended up in our apartment.

The moment she stepped inside, I knew this wasn’t going to be a normal visit. Penelope was an explosion of energy and curiosity, her eyes immediately darting around the apartment, taking in every detail. And there was a lot to take in.

The space had evolved since Spencer first moved in. Back then, it was sparse, bachelor-esque—a couch, a coffee table, and not much else. But throughout the year, I’d filled it with touches of personality. A corner plant stand I’d built during one of Spencer’s longer cases A display shelf for mugs that had started as a simple project but quickly became a labor of love. And my favorite addition—a gallery wall anchored by a soft loveseat I’d claimed as my corner. I had to beg him to buy all the wood from Home Depot, a place I knew he had no interest of ever visiting. But the apartment had character now, a warmth that said: Someone lives here. And maybe someone else… doesn’t.

Penelope was enchanted. “Oh my God, look at this place! Spencer, this is so gorgeous! How could you even live here? You’re such a little nerd.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as he took her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “It’s a long story,” he muttered.

It was then that I stepped into the living room, my footsteps light but enough to draw her attention. Penelope’s head whipped around, her eyes widening as she spotted me.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and awe. “You’re beautiful!”

I blinked in shock. “Wait—you can see me already?”

She tilted her head, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Oh, are you not usually visible to the mortal eye? Is this like a Beetlejuice thing, where only the chosen one can see you?”

I shook my head, still trying to process. “Not exactly. Spencer could see me right away, but Emily and Derek couldn’t. How… how can you?”

Penelope tapped her chin, thinking for a moment before a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I must be special,” she said with a playful shrug.

Spencer groaned from behind her. “Oh no. Don’t feed into this.”

Penelope grinned, spinning to face him. “Feed into what? Spencer, you’re living with a ghost, and not just any ghost—a gorgeous, articulate ghost! I demand details. Right now.”

[imagineaworld]

training season 🗡️ cassian

summary: cassian is overseeing your training, and despite his attempts to keep it professional, when he learns his desire for you is reciprocated, he can't hold back any longer

warnings: 18+, smut, implied r*pe/SA (off-page, in past), blood, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink if you squint,

word count: 1.7k

Your relationship was strictly professional.

At least, that's what Cassian told himself as he admired your body carrying out the manoeuvres he had instructed.

The way you moved with such grace despite emulating movements designed to end a life captivated him. It was impossible for him to take his eyes off you, partly because he was overseeing your training. But mostly because he was undeniably attracted to you.

Flustered from the exertion, you turned to him for feedback.

"That was good," he praised. "You're still holding your sword a little low. If you were fighting someone your own size, it'd be perfect."

Unspoken was the hint that the assailants you'd been training to fend off were male, thus much larger than you.

Cassian had offered to train you when he had spotted you at a fighting ring - not to place bets, but to watch the fighters' movements and tactics to teach yourself how to fight.

He'd known you for a while by then, and was aware of a traumatic event in your past that was the cause of your dedication to fend for yourself; to never be weak again. He saw that determination in your eye and found himself offering to train you before he had even a chance to consider it.

Over the past three months, you had thrived under Cassian's tutelage. From your own self-teaching, you had a good foundation to work with, and Cassian had a front-row seat for your transformation. Rather inconveniently, Cassian's attraction towards you had also thrived in that time.

Clearly frustrated with yourself, you began the movements again, making sure to hold your sword a little higher. Your two-hour session must have been over, because Azriel arrived to winnow the two of you back into the village.

"Looking good, Y/N!" Azriel called from his spot beside Cassian, eliciting a grin from you.

A spark of jealousy flared in Cassian at the affection.

You were Azriel's friend first. It was through Az that Cassian had met you, on a night out in a tavern. You had tried to keep up with the boys, but your lower tolerance left you requiring an escort home, which Cassian was happy to oblige.

Sheathing your sword in one swift movement - a vast improvement from the first few times, showing how quickly your training was becoming muscle memory - you made your way over to Cassian and Azriel. A sheen of sweat glistened on your brow as you caught your breath, causing Cassian's mind to wonder how you might look after a good fuck.

Nope. Cassian shut down that thought before it could alter his scent and make things very awkward. For the most part, he had done a good job holding the reins on his desire - only a few lingering touches and straying glances. To his knowledge and relief, you had not picked up on anything.

Guilt ate at him for his thoughts about you. You had trusted him - a male - to oversee your training, despite your experiences with males. He would not take advantage of his position just to get in your pants. It would be overstepping a boundary.

Az winnowed the three of you back to your village, dropping you off just outside your little cabin on the outskirts, before he disappeared again.

"Same time again tomorrow?" You asked Cassian.

He nodded in confirmation. "You did good today, Y/N."

Your smile at his praise was enough to put out the flicker of jealousy.

-

A knock sounded at your front door just after two in the morning, jolting you awake.

Instantly alert, you grabbed the dagger from under your mattress and clambered out of bed as silently as you could. As you stalked toward your front door, you monitored for any sound of danger - just like Cassian had taught you.

You pressed your ear against the door but could hear nothing amiss. Guardedly, you unlocked the bolt and opened up the door, dagger ready.

Cassian stood before you.

Your shoulders sagged at the relief, the possibility of threat gone. But once you noticed Cassian's face bloody and bruised, you tensed up again.

"What happened?" You asked him softly, ushering him inside and bolting the door behind him.

"Sorry if I woke you." He spoke quietly.

You motioned for him to sit down, dagger clattering on the table as you set about wetting a rag to wipe the blood from his face. So gently, you patted his bruised face, removing both dried and wet blood, his nose still trickling.

"You get in a fight, hm?" You asked absently, more focused on cleaning him up.

Cassian just said, "You should see the other guy."

You stood between his spread legs as he sat in a chair that was groaning under his weight. Each gentle touch of your skin on his sent shivers down Cassian's spine. He became hyper-aware of just how little you were wearing.

Used to seeing you in fighting leathers, Cassian's attention snagged on the gauzy nightgown you wore. The white flimsy material left little to the imagination, and he could see your peaked nipples in his direct eye-line.

He cleared his throat, shifting about and attempting to avert his eyes. But there was nothing else to look at, you were standing so close to him. The floral scent of you was overwhelming - far more overbearing than when he caught your scent outdoors.

"I hadn't realised you wouldn't be decent," Cassian said as you finished cleaning the blood off his face.

You looked down at your nightgown. "Am I not decent?" You asked.

Cassian's eyes trailed you as you retreated a few feet away, rummaging through a cupboard for a balm to put on the cut on his cheekbone, the bloody rag discarded.

"Your nightgown," he ground out. "Leaves little to the imagination."

"You like it?" It sounded innocent, but it was laced with something more. A challenge.

You made your way back over with some of the balm on your fingertip, returning back to your spot between his legs as you applied it to his bruised face. 

"You think I don't see the way you look at me?" You asked. Cassian's stomach dropped. "I know you want me. I want you in the same way. Why do you hold back?"

He was dumbfounded. Language seemed to escape him. But you had said the words he had been desperate to hear. I want you. That was enough for him. 

He let go of his restraint.

Wasting no time, he rose to his feet. He loved the way he towered over you, how small you were compared to his huge form. Fingers under your chin, he tilted your face up to his. He captured your lips with his own, hard and hungry. You tasted even better than he had imagined as he thought of you late at night by himself. The way you opened your mouth to let him in sent blood straight to his cock. 

Eagerly, you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one. Once his shirt was off and tossed aside, you broke the kiss only to pull your nightdress over your head, leaving you utterly bare before him. 

He let out a growl at the sight, his large hands roaming your body, soft under his rough touch. With a hand on your ass, he pulled you closer against him. The moan that escaped you as you felt how hard he was was like music to his ears.

Without warning, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing. You braced yourself, hands on the bulging muscles in his arms, as you wrapped your legs around his torso. With such ease, he carried you over to your bed, laying you down gently and kicking off his boots.

The sight of you bare beneath him had his cock straining against his suddenly too-tight trousers. You tilted your head back, exposing your neck to him. Seizing the opportunity, he pressed his lips to your neck, kissing, sucking, nipping with his teeth. Claiming you as his, marking you. Slowly, he worked his way down, kissing and licking your chest, between the valley of your breasts. Finally, he placed his mouth over your peaked nipples, which had been torturing him since he'd first noticed them. All the while, Cassian toyed with your slick pussy, dipping his fingers in and out in a motion that had you writhing beneath him.

You were so lost in the pleasure, you hadn't even noticed his trousers come off until his impressive length was lined up with your entrance.

"Say you want it," Cassian's voice was so full of lust you could barely think.

"Please," you murmured. "I want it."

Slowly, Cassian pushed inside you. You cried out at the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. He groaned at how tight you felt, aware of his size as he gave you time to adjust once he was fully seated inside you.

"Cassian," you breathed, fingers clawing at his back, desperate for him to move.

He began to thrust, gradually picking up the pace as your body adjusted to his. With each thrust, he hit that sweet spot that had your orgasm building already. 

"Fucking hell, you're so tight," he ground out.

You dug your nails into his back and clamped your teeth around his shoulder to muffle your moans. His pace was unrelenting. 

"I'm so close," you moaned.

"Cum for me, baby," he coaxed.

Obeying, you cried out as release barrelled into you, stars exploding in your vision. Cassian's pace did not slow down, riding you through your orgasm. At the feeling of you cumming around his cock, Cassian knew his release would follow suit.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growled.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. "Cum inside me."

Your words pushed him over the edge. His pace finally halted as he stilled, spilling himself inside you just as you had asked. 

For a few moments afterwards, the two of you remained still, chests heaving as you caught your breath. Slowly, Cassian pulled out of you, some of his cum leaking out.

With two fingers, he gathered up the leaking cum and pushed it back inside your pussy. "Since you asked for it," he said with a smirk.

Instead of leaving, like you thought he would, he laid down next to you, still catching his breath. You knew from the look on his face that he was not done with you yet.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Stalker Malleus Headcanons:

Malleus is THE stalker of all stalkers

Now of course, his obsession with you came from the want to be friends with you.

The as he stalked you for longer periods and noticed the cute little things you do, he felt a one sided closeness to you

That platonic want for you then turned into romantic feelings.

That’s when when he starts to steal things from your dorm and take pictures of you in secret

He knows your schedule

He knows where you live

He knows what floor you live on in Ramshackle

He knows your preferences

He knows your friend group

He knows everything that is to be known about you

You only start to notice someone might be stalking you when you see the figure of a young man standing out in Ramshackle’s garden

The next day, things start to get escalate

The roof and gargoyles on Ramshackle are cleaned

There’s footprints on the dust on the floor leading to your room

And that loud green haired first year keeps trying to gain your attention.

Sebek keeps trying to drag you to Diasomnia to meet his master but you could care less.

There’s a weirdo coming in and out of Ramshackle and they know where you sleep.

You go to Sam for an amulet of protection, and hang it up on the front door.

When Malleus comes to Ramshackle, like he does every night, he notices the amulet and takes it. You don’t need this silly thing. He’s here to protect you. No one would mess with the darling of one of the greatest mages in the world. But, you’re obviously telling him you like jewelry, so he’ll grant your desire.

He sees your bedroom window and looks at your sleeping form. You look so cute like that. All snuggly and warm. But now’s not the time for adoration.

Malleus teleports inside and leaves the amulet on your nightstand with a Draconia family insignia stamped letter. He kisses your head, and you stir in your sleep.

He teleports outside your window, and just as he’s floating away, you wake up and see him. That young man isn’t a figure anymore, he’s a person. A person with glowing green eyes and horns(?).

You see the amulet on your nightstand and your eyes widen with fear. You shakily open the letter, not paying attention to the insignia and read the most terrifying sentences in your life.

There’s no need for such mear amulets for protection when you have me around. But since you like jewelry so much, may I inquire what type you like? - M

You grab grim, your backpack, essentials, and book it.

You travel to Heartslabyul where you sneak inside, and knock on Ace and Deuce’s door.

You explain everything to them.

❤️“No way, who could be stalking you?”

♠️“I’ll make sure they get a good beating!”

You ask if they would let you stay the night, and of course they said yes.

Now, one night became seven nights, and Malleus is getting cranky.

Why are you changing schedule? Why are you avoiding Ramshackle? Is someone bothering you?

Malleus takes action into his own hands and asks Sebek to once again get information out of you by being your friend.

Sebek takes his orders seriously and soon enough he’s offering to let his master, the great Malleus, protect you from this creep.

You cry into his arms and thank him.

By next week, you’re heading to Diasomnia to see Malleus, your supposed new protector.

When you arrive at Diasomnia, you’re greeted by Sebek, Malleus, Sebek’s friend Silver, and some short guy named Lilia.

Malleus bends down to kiss your hand, and you’re blushing.

Malleus is sweet and welcoming. He shares your common interests, and even knows how to take care of Grim.

But the protection he gives you is worth even more. You can finally be free of that creep following you.

Just as you’re leaving Diasomnia, you hear Lilia and Silver arguing. You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t resist when Lilia said “it’s my fault he’s like this.”

You press your ear against the door and hear the rest of the conversation.

🗡️ “It’s not your fault, father! Malleus is misguided by his emotions and extreme obsession for 🦐.”

🦇 “It is my fault. When I found out Malleus liked the Ramshackle prefect, I said to find out what she likes and what her hobbies are. I should’ve been more clearer, now we’re in this mess. The least we could do is warn the Ramshackle prefect.”

🗡️ “Agreed.”

As they open the door, you’re hiding behind a wall. It all makes sense now. Of course malleus was stalking you. Who else could float to a second story window? Who else would clean the gargoyles on Ramshackle? M is Malleus.

You run down the hall and push open a big black door that you think is the exit. Instead you’ve entered the dragon’s nest.

Pictures of you are hanging on the wall

Old clothes that haven’t been washed are crumbled next to Malleus’s pillow.

There’s a couple of hair strands on some sort of doll in the corner.

But the final straw was a necklace, similar to the amulet, but green on Malleus’s nightstand.

You turn to leave but run into the green dragon devil himself.

You fall to the floor, and Malleus’s tall stature makes him seem like a giant while you’re on the ground.

🐉“So now that you’ve found out I’m your secret admirer, I should probably do something with you.”

You walk out of Diasomnia with the necklace on you and a stalker for a boyfriend.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern Attitude

Next chapter

a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

[wehangout]

Every piece of Kinktober 2024 filth for my feral friends. Thanks for all the October love 😘

🥧👊🐮🙏🗡️ 🥧👊🐮🙏🗡️ 🥧👊🐮🙏🗡️ 🥧👊🐮🙏🗡️

Day 1: Against A Wall/"God, you love it like this, don't you?" Day 2: Formal Wear/Love Bites/"Don't Make A Mess, Baby." Day 3: Anonymous Sex/"Harder." Day 4: Cream Pie/"You're so messy"/"Turn over, baby."🥧 Day 5: Deep Throat/"Oh, baby, you're drooling everywhere."🥧 Day 6: Shower/"Faster! Please, let me come!" Day 7: Bondage/"Be good for me and I'll untie you."👊 Day 8: Sex Toys/"I'm going to fucking ruin you."👊 Day 9: Overstimulation/"Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby."👊 Day 10: Fisting/"I never thought I'd hear you say that, fuck, that's hot."👊 Day 11: Leather/"I don't like getting off on my own."🐮 Day 12: Public/"We're really going to fuck here? What if someone see us?"🐮 Day 13: Tattoos/"You know, I could always get you off right here, right now." Day 14: Hate Sex/"Open your mouth for me, baby."🗡️ Day 15: Begging/"Beg for it."🙏 Day 16: Orgasm Denial/"Move an inch and you won't be coming tonight."🙏 Day 17: Edging/“I can’t- please- I can’t-”🙏 Day 18: Body Worship/"I want to see you, want to watch you come."🙏 Day 19: Sensory Deprivation/"Hands behind your back." Day 20: Knife Play/"I won't apologise for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken."🗡️ Day 21: Piercings/"You're so in for it when we get home." Day 22: Romantic Sex/"Slowly, baby, I'm not going anywhere." Day 23: Somnophilia/"You're still horny? Didn't I fuck you hard enough last night?" Day 24: Voice Kink/"Don't tease me."🗡️ Day 25: Temperature Play/"Who says I'm going to fuck you?" Day 26: Rough Sex/Choking/Breath Play/"Fucking is a reward, but you haven't been good."🗡️ Day 27: Phone Sex/"I don't want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Day 28: Gun Play/"Do you need to use your safeword, darling?" 🗡️ Day 29: Degradation/"I want it. I want to taste you." Day 30: Sexting/"Do you know what happens when you misbehave?"🗡️ Day 31: Size Kink/"Look how good you take it." 🗡️

🥧 - Series One 👊 - Series Two 🐮 - Series Three 🙏 - Series Four 🗡️ - Hitmen AU

[kangshxrtie]

ch. 22 ⤍ PICK ME

you started your stream with your usual energetic greeting, glancing at the chat as it started to flood in with messages. you leaned back in your chair, smiling, ready to dive into the updates.

"so earlier today, i filmed this video with leeseo and wonyoung," you began, trying not to laugh too hard at the memory. "first of all, never let wonyoung behind the wheel—she scares me. she couldn't keep her hands on the wheel because she freaked out every time the car moved even a little. now, leeseo? that kid is wild. for some reason, she's actually good at driving." you paused for effect. "like, way too good for her age."

user1 idk who even let wonyoung behind the wheel. she's literally scared of driving.

you nodded, laughing softly. "i was wondering the same damn thing," you replied, shaking your head.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ when do i get to drive you? 😏

you raised an eyebrow at the comment. "you driving? should i be scared?" you teased.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ of course not. i'm a great driver!

"i don't know... should i let zuha drive me around?" you asked your chat, knowing exactly how they'd react.

user2 hell no

user3 run yn

user4 ur def not making it out of that one

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i love being a mod. there's so much power here.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i'm banning everybody who said i can't drive!

you couldn't help but laugh at her response. "you can't just ban my whole chat, zuha!"

reinyourheart wait how is kazuha a mod b4 me? i've known u longer

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ 🤷🏻‍♀️ i'm just good like that.

🗡️_yujin_an damn imagine not being a mod

reinyourheart even yujin

reinyourheart she prob doesn't even use it

🗡️_yujin_an actually 🤓☝️ i use my mod powers all the time to run polls. i'm also an og y/n sub so i got mod

reinyourheart y/n plz mod me since apparently you're just giving mod to anybody these days

"i don't trust you enough to give you those privileges."

reinyourheart but u trust yujin???

"well, not really, but she's our leader," you joked.

reinyourheart banning u from my chat now

"that's fine, i never watch your streams anyways," you quipped, earning a playful gasp from your chat.

reinyourheart 😮 fake

"i'm joking. please don't actually ban me," you said, breaking into laughter. as your giggles faded, your eyes caught an interesting question in the chat.

user1 what type of person do u want to date?

the question made you pause for a moment. "i've actually been thinking about this a lot recently," you admitted.

you leaned forward, ready to dive into your answer. "so, first of all, i like someone with a cool and relaxed personality, but they also need to be bright enough to make me laugh—even with the corniest jokes." as you said this, your thoughts drifted toward someone in particular.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i feel like i can satisfy those requirements

you chuckled softly but kept going. "i also want to date a morning person, so they can help me fix my sleep schedule."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hate sleeping in

"i really hope they can speak japanese too, 'cause i wanna visit japan so badly."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me

you grinned, ignoring her comments for now. "another odd requirement—i want them to be good at ballet. it's a talent i just really admire."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me 🙋🏻‍♀️

"oh, and if they look like bae suzy, that's a huge bonus," you added with a nostalgic smile. "she was my ideal type when i was younger."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ pick me! choose mee!

"and another weird one—they need to randomly start stretching or doing squats whenever they feel like it. bonus points if they have abs. that's just..." you sighed dramatically. "so hot."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i literally fit all the requirements

you finally broke, laughing as you read her string of comments. "i don't know if anybody can really line up to all these standards," you shrugged playfully.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ am i even here rn 😞

"y'all, if you know someone who meets all these standards, let me know," you told your chat, laughing at how many people were either playing along or just laughing at the interaction.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat suggest me #ynxzuha

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ imma start banning ppl that type any other name

"you can't threaten my chat like that, zuha," you chuckled, reading her messages aloud.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat she noticed me

you shook your head, smiling. "but since you're here, what do you think of all these suggestions?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ idk but i think that kazuha girl is pretty cool. i think u wld like her

you pursed your lips in thought. "hmm... i don't really know. i'll have to think about that one."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ trust

"i guess i'll trust you," you said, playing along. "but what are you doing right now? you should join me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i cant im filming leniverse rn

you gasped. "what do you mean? stop watching me and go film!" you teased, mock-scolding her.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ we good. they're not rdy yet

"alright, just don't get into trouble because of me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ talking to u is more important tho :/

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ nobody tell chaewon i said that

"there's a reason i act the way i do—it's because she says stuff like this," you said with an exaggerated sigh.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i miss u lets hang out soon

"we literally hung out yesterday," you reminded her, laughing.

user5 u did?

user6 i miss when y/n updated us

you nodded, leaning into the camera. "yeah, because we filmed the collab!" you added, catching yourself before revealing too much. "when will that be posted, zuha?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ shld be posted next week

"okay, tell your team to edit me well," you said with a grin.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i will.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hv to film now talk l8r

"bye, zuha!" you waved dramatically, just as you got a perfectly timed message from yujin that she was almost ready.

"so, today we'll be playing games with yujin, who should be here soon," you announced to your chat. no sooner had you said it, you heard the familiar ping, signaling that yujin had joined the call.

"y/n, why didn't you warn me?" yujin exclaimed, her voice full of exasperation.

you blinked. "what do you mean?"

"leeseo just showed me what you all did in the video today."

"oh, that! yeah, she's crazy with it," you laughed, remembering the madness.

"she was all like, 'you wanna see what i learned?' and i'm thinking, sure, why not—'cause i'm actually curious about what y'all filmed. next thing i know, she reverses fast and does a freaking j-turn. i've never been so scared in my life."

"she did it first try, too. i was just sitting there, in shock."

"i just wish i had talked to wonyoung first," yujin muttered.

"i'm so glad you're the driver in the group. no way we'd be alive if wonyoung was behind the wheel."

"oh, absolutely," yujin agreed quickly. you both laughed before getting connected to the game, ready for the chaos that would follow.

zuhasgf connected

as soon as yujin's character appeared in the game lobby, you rolled your eyes, and immediately opened the menu, kicking her out without hesitation.

"alright, i'm in the game," she announced, unaware of what you'd just done.

"huh? y/n, did you just kick me out?" yujin's voice sounded confused.

you tried to act innocent. "wait, why'd you disconnect?"

yujin groaned, realizing. "you literally just kicked me."

"i think you need a new username," you replied.

"i can't get back in—did you ban me?" yujin chuckled.

"don't blame me because you can't get in the game," you said.

zuhasgf connected.

you immediately kicked her out again, this time banning her completely.

"y/n!" yujin yelled in disbelief.

"i told you to make a new username. i'm not accepting this one," you said firmly.

"just unban me!" yujin demanded, still laughing.

"are you trying to join with the same character?" you asked.

"yeah, did you unban me?"

"...of course," you lied smoothly.

once yujin finally decides to change her name back to normal, you two load into the game, the screen fades in, revealing your pirates standing confidently on a dock, the vast ocean stretching behind them, with a rugged ship rocking gently in the harbor.

"i don't have a shovel, so you're gonna have to do all the digging," yujin lazily announced.

"yujin, if you don't put some type of work in, i might actually fight you," you shot back.

you walk off in the opposite direction when you spot something off in the distance. "there's a ship here," you inform yujin.

she started her pirate roleplay. "arghh! i'm on my way!" yujin replied in a raspy pirate accent, rushing toward the ship with exaggerated enthusiasm.

suddenly, your screen started shaking violently. "what was that?" you muttered, trying to steady your view.

on the other end, you could hear yujin losing her mind, screaming incoherently. there were no actual words, just pure panic as she mashed buttons in a futile attempt to do... something.

while yujin flailed, you spotted an ocean crawler emerging from the sand. remaining calm, you casually pulled out your gun and shot it. meanwhile, yujin continued screaming in terror about something you couldn't even see.

then, out of nowhere, yujin set off an explosion—right next to you. the entire screen flashed red as both you and the surrounding enemies were blasted back.

"oh my god, yujin! what the fuck!" you yelled, your health bar dangerously low as you quickly ate some food to recover.

"you're welcome!" yujin chirped, completely ignoring the fact that she had almost killed you along with the monsters.

the battle ended, and you both wandered around the island, eventually stumbling upon a mysterious shipwreck. a spectral pirate appeared out of thin air, launching into an overly dramatic speech about ancient pirate lore.

"this is actually the longest speech i've ever heard. argh," yujin groaned.

you decided to pull out a ukelele from your inventory. yujin, never one to be outdone, joined in with her singing about finding the pirate captain, her voice cracking from the strain of trying to stay in character.

later, while you were still outside playing music, yujin's shrill voice pierced the calm.

"three ghost ships!" she shouted.

"let's go. we must go on an adventure!" you replied, dramatically diving into the water, heading for the ghost ship, determination in your heart.

however, as you swam, the tide came in, forcefully pushing your character back. you struggled against the current, while yujin, oblivious, had already made it onto your ship and was sailing away.

"yujin! get your ass back here!" you screamed, frantically swimming after the ship. "i'm literally sinking!"

after what felt like an eternity, yujin finally circled back for you. gasping for breath, you managed to pull yourself up onto the deck.

relieved to be back on board, you stood at the front of the ship, surveying the ocean ahead. you felt the wind in your face, the waves crashing against the hull. surely, yujin could be trusted to steer the ship... right?

but then you noticed something alarming. "yujin... we're gonna crash into this rock!" you said, your voice tense.

"anchor!" yujin screamed, but it was far too late. the ship slammed into the rock.

"we're gonna die on this ship. not even from the battles, it'll be from your terrible driving," you groaned.

"naww, we're good," yujin said confidently, somehow managing to reverse the ship and sail around the obstacle, acting like nothing had happened.

you decided to climb up to the ship's bowsprit, balancing precariously on the beam as the ship cut through the waves. "is standing up here a good idea?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"argh! of course it is!" yujin replied without hesitation.

"is playing music as we go into battle a bad idea?" she asked, joining you upfront with her accordian, strumming an out-of-tune melody.

you pulled out your ukulele from the inventory, matching her energy, and for a moment, it was peaceful—just two pirates making music.

then, without warning, the water around you started to churn. from the depths of the ocean, a massive kraken emerged, its tentacles towering above your ship.

both you and yujin screamed in unison as chaos ensued. you were flung into the water but somehow kept playing your ukulele, refusing to let the music die.

"it's sucking us in!" yujin shouted, her voice on the verge of panic. "load the cannons! we gotta fight this off!"

"can we even fight this thing?" you asked through fits of laughter, doubting your chances.

you quickly switched to the cannonballs, aiming at the monstrous tentacles, firing off shots as fast as you could. you felt like you were making progress, but then you noticed the ship was being dragged deeper into the abyss.

your screen flickered and went dark with a red outline. "what is even happening?" you groaned as your character faded into the ghostly realm.

as a spirit, you wandered aimlessly, spotting another figure. thinking it was yujin, you approached, only to realize it was a random player—a man who's character gave you a casual nod.

"later, dude," he said, disappearing into the void.

you eventually respawned back with yujin, both of you standing on the remains of your ship, now just floating debris in the ocean.

"well, that was a great sea of thieves adventure. we lost everything," yujin said, pulling out her accordion.

you pulled out your ukulele, shaking your head but smiling. "yeah, it was great."

"the fucking kraken..." yujin muttered.

"literally right before the pirate ship, too," you said.

"literally the most random shit," she added, laughing.

"crazy," you agreed, both of you still basking in the aftermath of the chaos.

"anyway, i guess we have to end here," yujin said, the energy winding down.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, starting the stream wrap-up.

you exited the call with yujin, turning your attention to chat. "alright, chat, it's about that time," you said, leaning back in your chair with a relaxed smile. "i'll be live tomorrow for some more games, maybe with a few friends, but i haven't locked anything in yet."

you glanced at the chat as messages rolled in, then continued. "also, keep an eye out—our channel's dropping a new video soon, so make sure to check that out when it's up. but yeah, that's all for today!"

you gave a casual wave. "thanks for hanging out, and i'll see you next time." with a final smile, you ended the stream.

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Yukichi Fukuzawa (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Yukichi Fukuzawa x GN! Reader

Warning: Yandere. OOC. Spoilers for "The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency". Fukuzawa doesn't like you at first. Overprotective Fukuzawa. English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa Yukichi is a stoic man. Fukuzawa Yukichi is a swordsman. Fukuzawa Yukichi was an assassin. Fukuzawa Yukichi was a bodyguard. Fukuzawa Yukichi is a President of the Armed Detective Agency. And, apparently, he never has been real.

👘🗡️ It takes everything for Fukuzawa not to lose himself.

👘🗡️ Was his previous life a lie? Were the lives of his workers a lie too?

👘🗡️ What about other Yokohama citizens? Are ADA members the only ones who gained self-awareness? Are they the only ones who stayed in this cursed place?

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa wanted to scream. He wanted to do something, anything, to stop this real life nightmare.

👘🗡️ But there is no point in grieving. ADA need him to be strong.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa ordered everyone to travel in pairs. After taking a quick look at other floors and finding them empty, Fukuzawa ordered to move living quarters into the ADA building.

👘🗡️ The first day was hard. The next ones wasn't easier.

👘🗡️ Atsushi was afraid of been alone. Kunikida was a husk of his former self. Yosano was ready to destroy anyone who crossed her path. Junchirou put all his efforts in looking after Naomi. Naomi was avoiding all of them. Kirako was behaving like a robot. Katai was working day and night. Kenji tried to stay positive, but he also was lost. Kyouka was ready to become a killer again, if it helps the agency. Ranpo was working as much as he can. And, while each time he couldn't find something useful, Ranpo pretended not to be bothered by it, Fukuzawa still could see, that Ranpo became sadder and sadder. Dazai was aloof and closed off.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa saw his workers distress. He could see their pain. And he can't do anything to ease their pain.

👘🗡️ He talked to them. Offered a shoulder to cry on. But it wasn't enough.

👘🗡️ He tried to be strong for them. But, time to time, he almost broke.

👘🗡️ The news, that they weren't the only one, who is self-aware, were... good. At some extent. At least, there were other people.

👘🗡️ And then, one day, he feels an entity's gaze on him.

___________________

It was watching...

It was observing...

It was not something familiar...

Years of training have sharpened Fukuzawa's senses.

They were sharp enough to observe The Entity in return.

Fukuzawa is patient. He is observing The Entity. He is waiting for its first move.

Fukuzawa was an assassin. He still remembers, how to follow his target. But he can't follow this target.

He trusts his guts and years of training. He is sure, that he is not mistaken. Fukuzawa was sure, that this thing isn't there. The Entity is hiding in a different world.

When Atsushi asked if they have felt someone's gaze on them, Fukuzawa answered, that he has felt it.

Others have felt it too. Their conditions became worse. Most of his workers became angrier.

All because of This Entity.

Fukuzawa is trying harder to find a way to The Entity. To this strange emotionless thing.

When he will find it, he will make sure this creature will be destroyed.

He won't let this thing poison his workers lives anymore.

And then time resets.

And Fukuzawa, once again, was thirty-two-years-old bodyguard, whose last client were assassinated.

________________________

When they start feeling your presence

👘🗡️ At first, Fukuzawa was just standing there. At first glance, he looked calm. But in reality, he was enraged, he was scared, he was lost.

👘🗡️ He felt The Entity's gaze again. But in a second, the ominous presence disappeared.

👘🗡️ Instead, he felt, like something was floating above him.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa looked up. A blob of light. A small, shapeless blob of light. He can tell, that it is The Entity. Of course, it wasn't its real form. And he heard a voice. Just a whisper, that came from the blob.

"young..." "cool..." "strong..."

👘🗡️ Then blob gently lowered itself and settled on Fukuzawa's head. The Blob seems happy.

👘🗡️ And Fukuzawa felt its happiness. Fukuzawa felt, like he just drank some good tea.

👘🗡️ Okay... He didn't expect this. Fukuzawa was puzzled. This Entity has emotions? And it decides to become a light blob.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa tries to touch the blob. But his fingers passed through it. And Blob doesn't seem to notice Fukuzawa's actions.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa decided to go to the company of his late client. He needs to meet Ranpo.

👘🗡️ And like this, with a light blob on his head, Fukuzawa was on his way.

👘🗡️ When Fukuzawa arrived, he, once again, had to preform an impossible movement, just to get to the room with the caught assassin.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa heard, that Entity spoked again. This time, the voice was louder, but not really clear.

"Fukuzawa [||||||||||] awesome! [|||||||||||||] bodyguard ever!"

👘🗡️ The Blob on his head purred. It was... cute.

👘🗡️ During the next few minutes, Blob, once again, was floating above him, above young assassin, above secretary, above Ranpo.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa noticed, that, he was the only one, who can see the Blob.

👘🗡️ During their talk in a café, Blob were floating above them.

👘🗡️ After secretary's crimes were exposed, and Fukuzawa agreed to treat Ranpo, he asked, if Ranpo heard The Entity. Ranpo confirmed that yes, he has heard them.

👘🗡️ For the first time, since Fukuzawa learned about The Entity's existence, he felt calm. They... don't seem bad. Simply curious. Not malicious.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa and Ranpo finally went to the theater, where Fukuzawa's next job should be.

👘🗡️ When he met Ranpo for the first time, Fukuzawa was so irritated by the child's behavior, he thought about fifty-one ways of getting rid of him. Fukuzawa hoped, that this time, Ranpo would be less annoying. He was mistaken.

👘🗡️ Not only Ranpo was as annoying as before, The Blob was laughing. The Blob seems amused by Ranpo's behavior. Fukuzawa felt exhausted.

👘🗡️ At the end of their walk, Fukuzawa had thought about thirty ways of getting rid of the Blob. And he proclaimed it loudly, pointing at it. Ranpo looked confused, but didn't ask any questions.

👘🗡️ When Ranpo was kidnapped, and Fukuzawa was looking for him, he could feel The Entity's worry and fear.

👘🗡️ When Fukuzawa was lecturing Ranpo, The Entity was also lecturing him

👘🗡️ The Entity were never evil... Fukuzawa was grateful, that he learned it before he can seriously hurt The Blob... Little Light.

👘🗡️ The time 'resets again'. Fukuzawa 'woke up' in the ADA office. Atsushi's entrance exam just ended a moment ago.

👘🗡️ Days passed. Slowly, others became back to normal. As Fukuzawa learned from talks, The Entity was praising them. They were crying with them. They were treating them like humans.

👘🗡️ And one more thing were new there.

👘🗡️ The Light Blob, that were floating above them. And, again, others didn't notice it.

👘🗡️ Now it didn't stay with Fukuzawa for long. He wished, that Little Light will stay with him longer. He wished, he heard their voice again.

👘🗡️ Ranpo has discovered, that Little Light is normal human.

👘🗡️ The next day, Dazai started a meeting in Fukuzawa's office. Dazai confessed, that he also can see Little Light Blob. If one feels Guiding Light presence long enough, they start seeing the Little Light Blob. Dazai offered to start working on finding a way to Their Guiding Light. That's how Dazai called them.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa and the rest of ADA agree.

👘🗡️ ADA has decided to find a way to their world. So they can be near them.

👘🗡️ And then, Atsushi and Kyouka were kidnapped by Port Mafia again.

___________________________

"A comrade is in danger. We need to rescue him. Is there some weightier logic in the world which trumps that?"

Fukuzawa Yukichi felt, how Light Blob flew closer to him. He heard the voice.

"kind" "true leader" "everyone is safe with him"

"Fukuzawa, you are a great leader. All ADA members are safe with you. You will never let them be hurt. I think, they are very lucky to have such a kind and loyal man as their leader."

Little Light flew closer to Fukuzawa and pet his shoulder.

[In reality, you carefully pet the manga panel with Fukuzawa on it.]

______________________

👘🗡️ When Dazai offers to arrange a meeting between Fukuzawa and Ougai Mori, Fukuzawa agrees. They need more people. More people to find a way to Their Guiding Light.

👘🗡️ The meeting was a success. After hearing about working together with finding a way to the real world, to Their Guiding Light, Mori immediately agrees.

👘🗡️ Some time passed. The Guild joined them. And Rats. And DOA. And Hunting Dogs. And The Government.

👘🗡️ All of them were together. Joined their forces in finding a way to you.

And then, one day, during one of their meetings, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

_____________________

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa will be the first, who will try to raise the chance of getting his card from the scout.

👘🗡️ Soon, you will have all your Fukuzawa cards with max level skill.

"This SR Summer Festival Fukuzawa card looks good"

"Wow, Fukuzawa's skill deals so much damage"

"I like when I see Fukuzawa's sprite in The Office"

👘🗡️ When BSD gang will gain access to the rest of your phone, Fukuzawa will find information about dangers in your world. He can't allow anyone to hurt you. You are under his protection. He is your bodyguard. He will keep you safe.

👘🗡️ Likes to look at cat videos, cat pictures and cat memes with you.

👘🗡️ Last time, he touched the Little Light, hie couldn't do it. But he will get this chance, when they will go to your world. He wants to touch your face. To feel, that you are real.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa Yukichi was a bodyguard. And for you, he will become him again. Fukuzawa Yukichi is a President of the Armed Detective Agency. And he will use his authority to help you. And Fukuzawa Yukichi soon will be real. Others soon will be real. Real, as you are. Their Guiding Light.

________________________

You finally get a new Fukuzawa card. When you finish level it up, you saw a notification from the "Gift Box".

It was a note from Fukuzawa. With Awakening materials attached to it.

"[Y/N], I hope that you are safe. Please, be careful. The world is a dangerous place. I wish I could protect you. Fukuzawa Yukichi"

You smile and open Fukuzawa'd card again. You carefully pet sprite's shoulder.

"Thank you, Fukuzawa. I am grateful, that you want to protect me. Perhaps, one day, you could do it."

You didn't notice, that Fukuzawa's eyes shine with dangerous light.

[heart-shaped-noose]

How the Blue Exorcist characters boop others

I meant to post something like this last time in April but god knows I’m not missing the chance to post my silly HCs now

🕰️⭐️ Mephisto was, of course, the first of everyone to earn all the badges back in April, and he definitely got them all so quickly by abusing time manipulation. Once he got the black boop badge, he unequips the other two and only displays the black paw. Kind of as a superiority and dominance thing ? Like he would NEVER display those “lesser” badges, he’s gotta show that he put in the work to earn the most elite and prestigious badge, so he’s “above” those other badges. But he continues with the relentless booping, even during Halloween. If someone tries to out-boop him he’ll stop time to spam them with more boops than is humanly possible. It’s due to this why he likes those who continually and viciously boop him during the whole event, like Rin and Lewin.

🍔🍟 Lewin is a ruthless booper, he boops everyone in sight, even those who don’t have tumblrs. He loves to send Osceola and Angel different pictures of cat paws, each with the message of “get booped, dumbass!!” or some shit like that. In April he earned all the badges in an hour or two and he displays them all. He keeps on booping relentlessly even after earning all the badges, since he just enjoys the spirit of booping others. Nobody on his dash is immune to his booping, mutuals, randos, or otherwise. He has the same energy during Halloween, where he boops everyone on tumblr and off of it. Angel bemoans the Halloween revival of booping when Lewin begins to once again send various pictures of cat paws to his text messages, email address, and group chats.

🔥🗡️ Rin thinks it’s a cute game and gets really into it. After so many boops he finds it repetitive, but he didn’t let anything get in the way of him earning all the badges back in April. He also earned them all pretty quickly, and he proudly displays them all. He continued to boop people after earning all the badges, but not to the point of Lewin where he booped everyone on sight. Even on Halloween when there’s no badges, he still gets competitive and tries to out-boop everyone else (good luck with out-booping Mephisto and Lewin, Rin!)

🌸🌱 Shiemi really likes the event and thinks it’s beyond adorable, and back during April’s event she got all starry eyed when she saw the cute little paw badges. The thing is that she’s very quickly overwhelmed by all the boops, both with keeping up with all the notifs and booping back others. I don’t think she would be dead set on earning all the badges, but she would still be happy to boop back Rin and Izumo and the others. She got burnt out shortly after reaching the orange badge, and she displays the white and orange paws on her tumblr. She’s not as excited about it during Halloween, but she’s still a good sport and boops back anyone who boops her.

🦊⛩️ Izumo probably starts off begrudgingly. Multiple people try to get her on board with the event, but Shiemi in particular absolutely insists that she boop everyone back. Eventually Izumo caves in and gets to booping most everyone else. Though, she only boops others back once they spam her with boops. If she’s booped enough then she may boop you in an annoyed frenzy, which she does quickly enough to keep even Lewin on his toes. Because of this, he sees her as a worthy booping adversary. In April she earns all the badges but only displays the white paw. Mainly for aesthetic reasons. She’s over booping when Halloween rolls around, though.

❤️🔍 I can kinda see Shima enjoying the events… though he probably only boops Shiemi and Izumo. Shiemi is the only one of them who boops him back, but that’s not stopping him from also booping the hell out of Izumo. I don’t think he cares enough to earn the black paw badge, but he boops Izumo and Shiemi enough to earn the orange paw. He displays both the white and orange paw badges. Once Halloween comes, he continues to plague Izumo and Shiemi. But he boops Shiemi a bit more since she reciprocates his booping out of politeness. Izumo refuses to boop him back, so he doesn’t engage her as much, but still more than enough to annoy her.

📿⛓️ Ryuji only has a tumblr because Shima made him sign up for one ages ago. He’s hardly ever online and isn’t online for the event, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe from being booped. He still gets booped all day by Lewin, who uses direct messaging to send him pictures of different paws with messages like “get BOOPED on!” all day. He’s not online for Halloween either, but he’s still aware of the event since Lewin starts sending him cat paws again at any given opportunity.

[ironmandeficiency]

the company + helping their s/o with insomnia

characters included: thorin, fíli, kíli, dwalin, bofur

word count: 941

summary: how a few members of thorin’s company help their s/o with their insomnia

a/n: again, i wrote these at an ungodly hour even tho i had important things to do today

thorin 🪵

with his duties as king, thorin is quite the night owl

he tends to stay up late working on important documents, reading through correspondence, doing everything but resting

you keep him company on many of those nights, humming softly as you read novels or tend to your own royal duties across the room when sleep evades you (which is nearly always)

he’ll notice when you start to sink further in your armchair, taking that as his cue to put you to bed

“come, my queen, we must rest for the night” he whispers, sliding his arms under your back and behind your knees to carry you to bed

your indignant grumble is met with a soft chuckle, your husband reassuring you that he is joining you

once you’re tucked in, he slides himself under the blankets with you and hums lullabies until you both doze off

fíli 🗡️

despite how long fíli has known you, he will never understand how in mahal’s great mines you are so elusive after sundown

during the day, he knows exactly how to find you and never worries about where you happen to be. but under the light of the moon, you slip through his fingers and seemingly vanish with the breeze

he knows that you like to go on walks to burn off energy you didn’t use during the day; without your evening walks, you’re tossing and turning like mad

you’re almost never in the same place twice; he’s found you roaming the mines chatting with bofur, reading books by the light of the forges, and on one evening you were in the kitchens with bombur chowing down on midnight snacks

tonight he finds you in the royal library, drool escaping from your lips onto a book older than the both of you combined

he spots balin and the old advisor grins at the sight of you snoozing on the dusty tome

your golden prince gently slides the book from under your head, adjusting your body so he can carry you to bed without much jostling

kíli 🏹

you’ve known that kíli was a massive cuddler since you were children in the blue mountains

he had a penchant for being able to sleep nearly anywhere growing up, and since you both were glued to each other by the hip since pebblehood, you were his permanent best friend and cuddle buddy no matter where you were

the older you got, sleep began avoiding you like a plague unless you had kee by your side. it was such a problem that he lived with you in every way but by name, having his own side of the bed and a good chunk of his clothes in your dresser

when he went on the quest for erebor with his brother and uncle, your insomnia returned with a vengeance that rivaled the angriest dwarf

reuniting with kíli in erebor was what kept you energized once everyone heard the news, your body running on willpower and dís’s mothering

when he saw you for the first time in the newly reclaimed kingdom he was concerned. he told thorin in no uncertain terms that he’d be spending the next few days helping you find the rest you’ve been so desperately missing

if there were confessions of love and kisses and beads exchanged between the naps, no one needed to know

dwalin 🪓

the best way he knows how to help someone sleep is through physical exertion. as a seasoned warrior, he knows with absolute certainty that waving hefty weapons around for long enough will get anyone an immediate audience with the sandman

when he feels you tossing and turning in bed, he’ll coax you out to the training grounds and spar with you until your eyelids begin to droop and your stance gets sloppy

you’ll be dead on your feet as your husband scoops you into his arms, silently carrying you back to your rooms with a fond smile (the smile is for you, his signature glare is for the guards under his command daring them to say anything disparaging about you)

laying you on the bed, his callused hands remove your clothing piece by piece, massaging your muscles as he works your tunic over your head and trousers down your legs

a soft nightgown is eased over your head before he bundles you up in the blankets. he joins you and simply runs his hands along your skin soothingly

it doesn’t matter what time it is, if dwalin can help you find rest, he will do whatever he has to do

bofur ⛏️

either bofur doesn’t see how some of the other miners stare at him, or he simply doesn’t give a flying fuck

most nights while he works, you’ll be found in a smallish rolling bed nearby where he’s working. you’re not always sleeping, sometimes simply resting or reading a book while you wait for your dwarf

it was an idea bifur had when bofur lamented to his brother about your discomfort and lack of genuine rest, and it helped a lot

there are occasional breaks in his work, bofur always taking a moment to kiss you sweetly and relay some of the fresh miner’s gossip (honestly, they rival the midwives with how much they talk)

when bofur is free from his duties, he’ll rouse you from whatever state you’re in and guide you back home with a steady hand and a smile

as you walk, he’ll update you on all the juicy rumors and drama and only half-finish his stories as you both fall into bed for the night

nothing anyone can say will convince him to not show you how much you are loved and appreciated

[deleahtarte]

If SP characters were in your typical hero rpg game… 🗡️🧙✨

Butters ‘The Hero From Another World’ - The emperor desperately sought for a hero strong enough to defeat the Demon king, and in doing so, resorted to summoning heroes from other worlds—Butters being the latest one. After being forcibly pulled away from earth on a random Tuesday, he is now being shoved into knight gear, put in with his own adventure party, and has been told to defeat the demon king so that he may return back to his old world. He has ZERO clue why he was chosen, but ever since he came to this world, he had began hearing voices. It sounded…sad.

Kyle ‘Wizard of the century’ - A prodigy and top graduate of a prestigious academy, Kyle comes from a long line of great wizards known to serve under the Emperor, and is the closest to the royal family. However, no one has shown the amount of potential and mana possession quite like Kyle. Most believe he will be the best wizard the world has ever seen, greater then all the ones that came before him. However, since he is so good at everything, he has grown rather jaded. Though he knows he should serve whoever it is that sits on the throne, Kyle finds that he does not like the current Emperor. Very recently he has been assigned to the new party that’s setting out to kill the demon king!

Kenny ‘The Evil Demon King’ - An immortal demon waiting for a hero strong enough to kill him. He resides in a castle and rules over demons. However, he often likes to disguise himself as human and prance around in the human word as just your typical wizard. In reality, he’s been alive for a thousand of years, will do anything to not feel bored, and has been waiting for someone to free him of his immortality curse. He was once human. He once had a family. He was once happy and free and alive. Now he is nothing. (He has a secret and past I will divulged into later…)

Stan ‘The Prince from a destructed kingdom’ - Years ago, his kingdom was one out of the many kingdoms that got annihilated once the Tyrant Emperor took the throne. The emperor thought he killed everyone, but Stan managed to escape with life and nothing else. No title, no treasures—just the clothes on his back and half his name. He watched as a wizard cloaked in red killed his mother, and vowed vengeance. His dream is now to kill both the emperor and the wizard. He now works as the Head Knight for the very kingdom that destroyed his own. Due to his talent with the sword, physical prowess, and position, the emperor assigned him to the adventure party created to defeat the demon king. He hopes that once the demon king is defeated, it will allow Stan the chance to be alone with the emperor, therefore extracting his revenge.

Cartman ‘The Tyrant Emperor’ - The emperor who took the throne at a young age. His mother was a mistress to the previous emperor, and therefore he was not considered a candidate for the throne. Since he is an illegitimate child, he has been looked down upon by everyone up until the second he started a coup against his own family and seized the throne. He possesses not only a great amount of magical power, but the talent for scheming and a brain of brilliance. He has ruled over the kingdom with an iron fist ever since. The only obstacle he can’t seem to get rid of is the Demon King.

Others:

Bradley ‘The Nightingale Pastor’ - As Head of the Church, he possesses the most holy power in all the lands with an affinity for healing. The Church holds tremendous sway over the people, making it the second influential group right after the Royal family. Bradley’s secret is that he does not believe in god, nor anything even remotely close to it. Yet it is undeniable that he himself is loved by God. He would’ve joined the hero’s party, but he is bounded to duty by the Church and unlike everyone else, does not particular have to follow any orders from the Emperor.

The mystery man from TDAIWFY (who I have not yet revealed the name of 😅) ‘The Most Wanted Pirate in the Seven Seas’ - He goes from kingdom to kingdom living life the way he wants. His greed knows no bounds, yet everyone he has plundered from adores him. He rules the seven seas. It is said that if you were to fight him, you must fight him on land—for the sea is his domain and he has never lost a battle there. His secret is that he’s a merman who’s been saved by Kyle before when he was much, much younger.

Wendy ‘The Next Queen’ - Out of nowhere, the emperor extended a marriage contract to her. The emperor wanted a wife for show so his counselors would stop pushing him to get married, seeing as he needs a wife to completely rule. Wendy needs someone to drag her once influential family out of proverty. The agreement is that he helps her family out of debt, and she plays the role of a dutiful wife that does not get herself involved in any kingdom affairs. As things always tend to play out, nothing goes as planned…

[honoviadakai]

Rating the Hazbin crew based on how much I trust them to drive me places 🚗 😈

(This idea comes from @not-just-another-hazbin don’t think I didn’t see your reblog my friend, it’s been making me cackle for a week now 🤣)

Charlie 🏨🎶:

8/10

Oh this is the SAFEST person you could get in a car with

Although

9 times out of 10, she’s probably not the one driving

It would be Razzle and Dazzle

That being said

When she DOES drive, you’re guaranteed to get from point A to point B in one piece

She’s a little too safe though….

She follows all traffic laws to the letter

And that wouldn’t borne a problem…if you guys weren’t in hell

Traffic laws in hell are a suggestion more than anything else

So more often then not, people are yelling slurs and insults at you two

Also, she’s lowkey a s low driver

She refuses to go above 30mph unless absolutely necessary

And that’s usually never with her

So if you have an appointment at 4pm and she’s the one driving you

No you don’t

It’s at 2pm

3pm at latest

She honestly gives off massive “trying to be the cool mom” vibes when driving

But her some slack, it’s the daddy issues that make her give that vibe

Vaggie 🦋🗡️:

8/10

She’s pretty ok at driving tbh

She’s gonna keep you safe and she’s more than capable of navigating you through the hellscape of hell’s roads

But her road rage is insane

Like you’d think someone like Husk has horrible road rage right?

Nah

It’s Vaggie

She genuinely might actually start ramming into people if they’re being truly unreasonably unhinged and threaten your safety

She truly just wants to keep you safe so that’s exactly what she’s gonna do

Just keep your seatbelt on…please

She’s also just not gonna let anyone eat in her car

No exceptions

Alastor🦌📻:

-100/10

Why…oh why in the ever loving FUCK would you get in a car where the RADIO DEMON was behind the wheel!?!

Get out of the car!

NOW!

He’s gonna cause an accident on the freeway on purpose!

And god help you if you say you’re in a hurry!

He’s gonna grove even slower than Charlie!

Like 5MPH kind of slow!

DO. NOT. LET. ALASTOR. DRIVE!

Angel Dust🕷️💕:

6/10

He’s an average driver tbh

Well…

When he’s being chill/sober

He’s pretty good at staying out of trouble and getting you from point A to B in the time you need

Now if he’s having a manic episode or had too much coke….

Please for the love of god buckle up

He’s speeding so fast it makes Sonic the Hedgehog look like a tortoise

He’s there for a good time, not a long time and he wants to see some shit get wrecked

But tbh he might not let you in the car if he’s doing this

He doesn’t care what happens to him

But you?

Your safety matters so much to him…

Thankfully he hasn’t done stuff like that in a long time so for the most part, he’s a good person to go to if you need a ride

Husk🐈‍⬛🥃:

9/10

He’s got the soul of a grumpy old man and he drives like one too

First of all

He’s gonna complain when you ask him to take you anywhere

He’s gonna drive you ofc

But he’s gonna act like you took him away from something important

It was booze

You took him away from his quiet drinking time

How dare you

He’s gonna get you from point A to B as quickly and as safely as he can

Nothing crazy, he just wants to hurry back home with as little chaos happening as possible

Low key I feel like he plays country, blues and/or rock music from around the time he was alive

It’s mostly sad music if you really listen to the lyrics

He honestly doesn’t care if you eat in the car but if you make a mess, he’s making you clean it

It’s honestly like getting a ride from you’re very tired and jaded uncle

Niffty🐞🪡:

-90/19

No

Absolutely not

First of all

Look at her

She’s like 3 ft tall

How is she supposed to reach the pedals or look over the steering wheel????

Second

Even if she was tall enough to drive properly….would you honestly get in the car with her???

The best way I can explain her driving….

And even then…I think she’s 1000 times worse than this guy

She’d tumble it hard enough to make it explode while you’re both still inside

And she’s laugh gleefully….

Just get a cab…it’s much safer

Sir Pentious🐍🥚:

-60/10

Ok

I know he’s capable of piloting his war machine

But piloting a ship and driving a car and very different for him

Ships are easy for him

But cars????

It’s like reading a foreign language to him

You’ll eventually reach your destination sure

But the town you just passed through is somehow on fire

And so is the car

And it’s only being held together by duct tape and prayers…

Just walk

Your chances of coming home in once piece is much higher that way

[sitkowski]

other poison devils ( jolly karlsson x ryan sitkowski )

kinksgiving day 2: knife play

pairing: jolly karlsson x ryan sitkowski cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ kink negotiations, knife play, minor bloodletting (scratching, small cuts), slapping, choking, finger sucking, restraints, mirror sex, protected anal sex, dom ryan, sub jolly. word count: 4.8k author's note: i got obsessed with this one. tagging the miw and bomens homies, please ignore this if it's not your cup of tea, i won't be sad about it. i'd rather have my readers safe! title comes from "pet" by a perfect circle. divider by @saradika-graphics 🗡️

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3 (coming soon)

Jolly’s responsible for keeping the knives. It’s part of their agreement. Anything he wants Ryan to use on him, he has to provide it, Ryan had explained it to him like prepping for a tour. You wanted to bring along the guitars you were comfortable with. Jolly wouldn’t play with Nicholas’ bass, he’d want his own guitars. So, he has to pick out his own knives. He had to care for them, clean them. Jolly knows what his own blood tastes like, Ryan’s made him lick it off the blade more than once. But he’s always liked it, paper cuts would make him hard so why not let someone cut him up a little for fun and get off on it?

The whole thing came about in the dumbest way possible, at least in Jolly’s opinion. Because festival season meant tossing a bunch of bands together and hoping for the best, and Folio and Vinny spent a good amount of time getting stoned together, and probably fucking around in other ways, so when Ryan came looking for his missing drummer, he found Jolly instead. And Jolly, well, he had eyes. Ryan looked as if he could throw him around, get him out of his head a bit. Their bands ended up mingling at after show hangouts. More often than not, he found himself in Ryan’s space, listening to him talk about the most random shit like it was gospel. And when Jolly cut his finger open on a beer can while they were waiting around for the bus call, he saw the way Ryan looked at him when he licked the blood from his own hand, eyes hot on him as he watched while Jolly dragged his tongue over the space between his thumb and forefinger to catch a drop before it fell.

Curiosity didn’t kill the cat. It got the cat in a lot of trouble though.

The switch from guitar talk to kink negotiations should have been jarring, but it wasn’t. They met up on the East Coast at Ryan’s house instead of a hotel. Explained to each other what they wanted. And Jolly’s bright idea to test the waters and push Ryan’s buttons within an hour of being there got him slapped and put on his knees in Ryan’s living room with an ease that probably should have scared him instead of comforting him the way it did. Ryan had big hands and those slaps were no joke. He had to explain the bruise on his face to Noah when he got back that night. He didn’t even bother lying.

It takes a lot of trust to let someone cut you up with a knife. Bloodletting is an intimate and dangerous act, and Jolly didn’t trust enough to ask for that at first. Not Ryan, or himself. But eventually, he held out a knife to Ryan and asked for what he wanted. He expected a lot of things from that one question, the first to be rejection, a lecture on the risks that came with putting a blade to Jolly’s flesh and expecting him to bleed for Ryan. They’d yet to find a limit with each other in the few times they’d done this, but Jolly figured there had to be one.

Ryan didn’t say no.

Months later, it’s still working for them. They make time to meet up when they can. This time, Ryan is coming to him. Jolly’s got his arrival information on his phone as he’s putting a set of older sheets on his bed. The last thing he wants to do is ruin any of his good ones. These can just be thrown in the trash when they’re done with them. It was one of the things Ryan told him; Jolly should always have older stuff he was willing to let him ruin during their time together. The first time they ever used knives, Ryan had cut the shirt right off of him, not caring that it was one of Jolly’s newer ones.

Ryan won’t let him pick him up from the airport. He shows up with a duffel bag and jetlag eyes, and it's only after he’s taken a post flight shower that Jolly finds out he literally hopped a flight as soon as the last show of Motionless’ tour was done. It’s oddly endearing, for them at least. There’s also a little bit of satisfaction in the fact that he can bully Ryan into taking a nap while he cooks them something to eat. It makes him feel a little useful.

“So you always like to play with knives,” Ryan says when he finally emerges from Jolly’s room, looking less like a walking corpse. He’d still had eyeliner from the show smudged under his eyes when he got there. “Not just for kinky shit.”

“Not just for kinky shit.” Jolly assures him, and passes him a plate.

Ryan stares at it like he’s never seen food before. “Did you make me grilled cheese?”

“Gotta have you well fed while you’re here. It’s all for selfish reasons, I promise you.”

“You act like me cutting you up depends on whether or not you take care of me while I’m here.”

Jolly does not tell Ryan to shut the fuck up, but it’s very close. And judging by the smirk he gets before Ryan starts to dig into his food, he knows it too. But he doesn’t call him out on it, even if Jolly could possibly pay for it later. Instead, he gets distracted with tour talk and then Ricky calls to make sure Ryan’s not dead in a ditch somewhere because he never checked in when his plane landed.

If he notices that Jolly had gone into his room and changed into one of his older t-shirts, well worn and soft and going thin in some spots, he doesn’t say anything right away. He doesn’t want to be too obvious, Ryan hasn’t even been here a full day. But they both know what he came for.

“I didn’t see your case in your room. Do you hide it?” Ryan asks finally.

He’s leaning beside him at the counter while he loads the dishwasher after they’ve eaten. Of course he brings it up like this, saying it so casually that Jolly nearly drops the plate he’s putting it away. He knows Ryan’s doing this on purpose. He wants to rattle him, and it’s obvious they’re about to settle into something here.

“I don’t exactly keep it on the coffee table with my magazines.”

Ryan crosses his arms over his chest, tilts his head towards the hallway. Jolly knows that look. “Why don’t you go get it?”

He poses it as a question, but Jolly knows that it isn’t. He turns and goes down the hall into his bedroom, opening the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieving the case that holds his knives. There were safe edge play ones in there, as well as his sharps. They only get used with Ryan now, which probably says something that Jolly isn’t really willing to dwell on. He takes it back out into the living room, where Ryan is now waiting for him. The idea of doing this out in the living room makes Jolly’s skin prickle hotly, not because of the location itself. But because of the wall of floor to ceiling mirrors that he never got around to taking down when he moved in. 

The sofa and Ryan are currently in that reflection, and Jolly has to fight the urge to look at it when he comes over. He holds the case out to him, and when Ryan takes it from him, Jolly finally realizes something. Ryan’s nails match the handle of the knife. The knife. The one that Ryan gave him, the one with his name engraved into the blade. It’s one of the ones that will only cut if used hard enough, and Ryan’s very skilled at that. He knows it’s Jolly’s favorite, both for sentimental value and play.

“Why are you still standing?” Ryan asks, looking at the case and not him. “Where should you be right now?”

“So you’re asking me to get on my knees?”

This makes Ryan look up, and he smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “You opting out? You know what you gotta say if you are.”

That’s the thing, Jolly does know. One little word and they do something else. Ryan being here doesn’t solely rest on what’s in that case. If anything, that’s just him giving Jolly what he wants.

“I’m not. I’m just…being specific.”

“Specifically? Get on your fucking knees, Joakim.”

He doesn’t do it right away, only because he likes to push. Instead he takes his time, moving the coffee table out of his way so that he can be closer to where Ryan is sitting. He sinks down on his knees in front of him, putting them at eye level. He’s got to make eye contact with people on a regular basis, but somehow staring at Ryan’s face, at that mean little smirk he gets because he knows that Jolly is weak for him, it makes his face heat up.

He gets a front row seat to Ryan opening the case. Jolly’s long since lost his ability to flinch when a knife passes before his eyes, and he watches as Ryan puts it down beside him before pulling out a second one. This one is smaller, sharper. He rarely uses it on Jolly, it’s more for cutting clothes. He holds it up now for Jolly to see.

“I’m only going to give you as much as I think you deserve. But we’re gonna go everything first, you got it?”

He can’t even push at Ryan for this, because they always have to go over everything. For him, and for Ryan. It’s more than just safewords and rules, it’s step by step what is going to happen so no one gets hurt. Ryan may be the one wielding the knife, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get hurt here. At this point, this part is easy for both of them.

“Go ahead,” Jolly urges.

“What’s your safeword?”

Jolly repeats the word he’s told Ryan over a dozen times by now. “Sunday.”

He almost answers the other questions he’ll be asked but he knows better than to rush this.

“And if you can’t talk?”

Scenarios of what they could do that involves Jolly not being able to speak race through his mind, not as if it would be the first time. Reaching out, he slaps his hand down on Ryan’s upper thigh twice. He knows that no matter what position they’re in, if he can’t talk, he’s supposed to hit Ryan twice. They haven’t had to use his signal or his safeword yet, but it’s always been extremely important to Ryan that they go over them every time. It makes Jolly think that something happened with someone else previously, but he never asks.

“Anything you don’t want this time around? Ryan asks.

It probably says something about him that he doesn’t have anything that’s a hard limit right now. He knows what Ryan likes and it all meshes well with his own interests. He likes to let Ryan lead, knows how to tell him if there’s something he doesn’t actually want. Right now, he shakes his head.

The slap isn’t as hard as it could have been, but Ryan’s got his rings on and he feels each and every one of them. His head jerks to the side, and then Ryan’s grabbing his face and pulling him back around so their eyes meet.

“You answer me with words.”

Jolly shifts on his knees. Not because he’s uncomfortable in this position, but because his cock swells just from one hit. “No, there isn’t anything I’m against tonight. Whatever you want.”

Ryan nods once, letting him go. He turns the knife over in his other hand, the sharp edge of it facing him, before reaching down and grasping the bottom of Jolly’s shirt. The blade parts the fabric easily and he pretends he almost feels the edge of it beneath his chin when Ryan reaches the collar, even though he’s staring straight ahead and Ryan wouldn’t risk something like that. He shrugs out of the ruined shirt, tossing it aside.

“Hands behind your back,” Ryan says, and Jolly does as he’s told, clasping one wrist. He knows this means he’ll be able to speak if he needs to for now, because Ryan would never prohibit him from having some form of being able to stop this for long. 

Ryan puts aside the knife and picks up a second one from the case. It’s still not his favorite, and Jolly thinks that he’s avoiding that one on purpose to draw this out. He has to swallow the disappointed noise he wants to make because they’ve barely just begun and he can’t afford to get impatient. This knife is just as sharp as the last, smaller with a curved blade. Jolly knows what every knife in that case is for, he knows them as well as he knows his guitars. But so does Ryan.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ryan taunts and Jolly realizes that he’s been staring at the knife that still sits in the case and not the one that Ryan is currently holding. “You haven’t been good enough for it. Your smart mouth proved that.”

He knows when to speak and he knows when to keep his mouth shut. Jolly lifts his chin a little, and watches Ryan’s eyes roam over his bare chest. It would take time for someone who’s never done this sort of thing to realize that he’s looking for scars from marks he’s left before. There aren’t many, Ryan might make Jolly bleed for him but he’s never cut him too deep. His eyes drift from Ryan’s face to the knife, how he holds it, the way his inked fingers look around the handle.

“Don’t move,” Ryan says and those two words make him instinctively wary and he fights to keep the tension out of his body. “Don’t move a fucking muscle.”

The blade is cold against the skin of his throat. It’s funny how feeling it there makes his mouth go dry and he has the worst urge in the world to swallow, but he isn’t supposed to move. This is just about him doing what he’s told, not about Ryan doing anything but holding the knife in place. He wants to turn his head and look in the mirror, but he can’t do that either. One wrong move to satisfy his curiosity, and the blade would slice him open in a way that neither of them want. That shouldn’t get him as hard as it does. He bites down on his tongue, fascinated with the look of concentration on Ryan’s face as he slowly drags the blade downward.

Ryan presses the blade in just below Jolly’s chest piece on the left side. It’s mere seconds, just enough to scratch the skin. Jolly feels a few droplets of blood well to the surface. He wants to look. His fingernails dig into his arm, which makes him twitch, just a little. Just enough that Ryan notices. He pulls the knife away and this time the slap is expected, and a little harder than the first one. Jolly moans weakly, looking back at him through his hair. He doesn’t apologize.

“Do I need to fucking tie you up to keep you still?” Ryan asks.

He wants to tell him no, that he can be good like he’s supposed to. But that’s not exactly true. “Use my shirt. Not like I can wear it again anyway.”

He sees the way Ryan’s jaw clenches, and he straightens himself back up as Ryan stands up, moving behind him to grab the ruined shirt. He crosses Jolly’s wrists for him, wraps the fabric around them and tugs. After a beat, he reaches beneath the shirt to get the hair tie off of Jolly’s right wrist. He pulls Jolly’s hair back off of his face, a tender gesture that makes Jolly close his eyes for a second.

“Move again before I’m ready to move you,” Ryan whispers in his ear, “and you won’t get to come the whole time I’m here.”

He knows that that isn’t a threat but a promise, and he nods. Ryan straightens, walking back around to stand in front of him. His eyes trail up his body, over the outline of his cock straining against the front of his pants. Jolly’s mouth waters, and Ryan rolls his eyes at him.

“Yeah right, you can’t even stay still for five minutes, what makes you think I’m gonna let you—”

“Please.”

The plea falls out of Jolly’s mouth quickly, and he can’t take it back. He’s never begged for anything before. Ryan stares down at him, and despite the impassive look on his face, Jolly can see it in his eyes that he’s intrigued by this. Instead of doing what Jolly was hoping he’d let him do, he puts two fingers to Jolly’s bottom lip. If this is what he’s getting, then he’ll take it. He opens his mouth far more obedient than he planned to, letting Ryan press those thick fingers against his tongue, pushing until Jolly tastes the metal of his rings.

He won’t do this for long, not if Jolly has no way to signal or safeword, but Ryan watches him avidly as he closes his lips around his fingers, letting Ryan push until he gags a little and spit drips down his chin. He does it once, then again, trying to press Jolly further each time. Jolly wants to grab onto Ryan’s thighs for balance, but he can’t. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t move once, not even when Ryan pulls his fingers out and wipes Jolly’s own saliva over his cheeks.

“Good to go?” he asks, checking in.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jolly promises. His voice comes out strained, the edges of his mouth rubbed raw.

He doesn’t think about the fact that he has no idea how long he’s been on his knees, or that they’ve barely begun. Ryan could keep him here all day and barely do anything. But he watches as Ryan sits back down and picks up the curved knife again. He doesn’t even care if they use his favorite one now. His eyes stay on Ryan’s face as Ryan braces one hand on Jolly’s shoulder and brings the knife back to his chest.

This time, he stays still like a good boy. Breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth with each drag of the blade. Ryan does not cut him deep, he barely breaks the skin but Jolly can feel the itch of blood sliding down his chest in a few places. It wouldn’t be a lot if he looked down to see, but his face actually hurts a little more than the scratches on his chest, and he’s pretty sure another slap would bust his lip open.

“You with me, Joakim?” Ryan’s voice penetrates his thoughts, and Jolly blinks. He nods slowly, sees the corner of Ryan’s mouth tilt upward. “Try verbalizing that for me, sweetheart.”

“Can I have one a little deeper?” is what he says instead of telling him that he’s okay.

Ryan squints at him, trying to gauge if he’s in the right headspace for that. Jolly can count on one hand and have fingers left over the amount of serious scars Ryan’s given him. He’s got one on his bicep from the first time they ever used knives, and then one on his upper thigh. That one he pushed for.

“Tell you what.” Ryan starts and immediately Jolly knows that he’s not going to cut him. He won’t argue. “I’ll scratch you a bit with this one, but we’re not doing permanent stuff. Not today.”

Jolly tries not to feel disappointed, especially given the fact that there’s an opportunity for more while Ryan’s here. So he just nods his head, and watches as he puts down the knife with the curved blade and picks up Jolly’s favorite. The knife itself is acrylic, the blade a translucent aquamarine color. One side was a straight edge that could cut through if enough pressure was applied, the other a sawtooth spine that Ryan usually liked to use to scrape against Jolly’s skin. He knew this knife intimately. Ryan turns it over in his hand, thumb rubbing over where his name is etched into it.

“Afterwards?” Ryan turns the knife flat and presses it beneath Jolly’s chin, making him meet his gaze. “Afterwards, your ass is mine.”

Jolly knew there was a reason that Ryan wanted to do this out in the living room, once again thinking of the mirrors to his left. It wouldn't be the first time they’ve fucked in front of them, it's why Jolly hasn't thought about getting rid of them.

“So much for me putting old sheets on the bed.”

“Oh, I'm sure we're still gonna need those.” Ryan promises.

He lets the knife tease down Jolly’s neck, over his collarbone. The tip of the blade circles one of his nipples and Ryan hesitates like he expects Jolly to move. But he stays still, so Ryan rewards him by putting the side of the blade tighter to his skin and giving a quick drag. The cut is miniscule, he can barely feel it. It doesn’t even count, despite the sluggish feel of his blood welling up in the tiny divot of parted skin. Jolly is just shocked that Ryan did it when he said he wouldn't. 

“What can I say?” Ryan shrugs his shoulders and sets aside the knife to be cleaned afterwards. “You deserved it.”

Jolly surges forward and kisses him, even though Ryan didn't tell him that he could move. Immediately, there's a hand in his hair, but then Ryan is yanking the fabric off of Jolly’s wrists. He sinks his teeth hard into Jolly’s lower lip, giving them both a taste of his blood while Jolly paws at Ryan’s stomach, trying to get his shirt off. He manages to get it up beneath his arms and then Ryan takes over, tugging it over his head and throwing it aside.

He presses his hand to Jolly’s chest, dragging his hand down over the scratches and through the half tacky blood. Jolly hisses against his mouth, yanking back. There’s a smear of red on Ryan’s lower lip, just enough to be noticeable, and a few spots of blood on his hand. Jolly’s stomach twists pleasantly and he shuffles back on his knees.

“You were talking some big talk a few minutes ago, Ryan. Still planning to follow through with that?”

He can’t help but push and he sees the way Ryan narrows his eyes at him as if he’s going to regret the words. Jolly hasn’t regretted a thing about this yet, no matter what Ryan does to him. Still, he starts to back away when he sees that look in his eyes, if only to make Ryan chase him. But he doesn’t get far, Ryan’s hand shooting out to grab him by the jaw, yanking him in until they’re nose to nose again.

“Clean this mess up, I’ll be right back.”

By mess, Jolly knows he means to move the knives out of the way. He gathers them carefully, taking them into the kitchen and putting them on the table. Ryan is back in the living room when he comes back, standing by the sofa. The second Jolly is close enough, he hooks his hand over the waistband of Jolly’s sweats and tugs him forward, giving him a little shove. He’s trying to put him off balance, but Jolly goes willingly, tumbling onto the couch. He grits his teeth when his chest brushes the arm of the sofa, but when he raises his eyes to the mirror, he finds Ryan giving in a predatory look in the reflection.

“You stayin’ like that?” he asks, palming himself through his pants. He drops a bottle of lube and condom package by Jolly’s knee where it’s pressed into the sofa cushion.

Jolly nods rapidly but knows he’s still supposed to give verbal responses. “Yeah, Ryan. Come on.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Ryan grabs Jolly’s pants and yanks them down, before shedding his own and kneeling up behind him. He keeps one foot planted on the floor, one hand sliding up Jolly’s back, pressing him down firmly. Taking a shuddering breath, Jolly’s fingers dig into the sofa.

He closes his eyes, listens as Ryan tears open the condom package. He hears the click of the lube cap, and then Ryan hums. “You want me to prep you?”

Jolly thinks about it, but it’s also a thing for him, letting Ryan push into him without fingering him first. He likes the pressure, the way that Ryan holds him down as he shoves his cock in. Looking up, he meets his eyes in the mirror again.

“Okay then,” Ryan says, accepting the silence as an answer for the first time all day. The hand on Jolly’s back slides down, and he keeps his eyes on him. “Hold still.”

He’s careful, pushing into Jolly so slowly he can’t seem to get his breathing under control but he knows that Ryan isn’t going to go faster and if he tries to rush him this will be over. No matter what it hurts but not in a way that he wants to stop. He wishes he could see, watch him go inside inch by inch, but he also likes it like this. Ryan’s weight pressing him down, as he blankets him with his body and doesn’t stop until his hips are flush to Jolly’s ass.

Ryan grits out a curse, and he pushes his forehead between Jolly’s shoulderblades for a second. He knows it’s overwhelming for him too, and he gives him all the time he needs until they both feel like they’ve adjusted. Reaching back, Jolly grabs onto his thigh. He doesn’t give him the signal but he encourages him to move because if he doesn’t he’s going to lose his mind.

Finally, Ryan pulls almost all the way out and then snaps his hips forward. Jolly groans into his arm, his nails biting hard into Ryan’s leg. At first, his movements are measured and controlled, but Jolly knows it’s only a matter of time, and he’s right. Before long he’s moving faster, each thrust dragging Jolly’s marked up chest against the fabric of the sofa. It doesn’t feel that great, and he gives Ryan’s leg one tap.

Message received, Ryan wraps one hand around Jolly’s throat, pulling him up and back. After that, all bets are off. He clamps his other hand onto Jolly’s shoulder and rails into him hard enough to knock all breath from his lungs. He bites down on his lip, tasting blood again, muffled whines escaping him loudly despite it. When he looks up at their reflection, he sees that Ryan is torn between watching them, and watching his cock go into him.

“If you’re gonna get off, you better be doing it yourself,” he grits out, and his fingers tighten a fraction.

Jolly feels the pinch of metal into his skin, and realizes he’s leaving it all up to Ryan to keep him upright as he lets go of the sofa and reaches for his cock. The first stroke has him choking more than Ryan’s fingers do, and he gives up trying to watch them, squeezing his eyes closed as it becomes his mission in life to come before Ryan does.

Ryan pulls him back onto his cock ruthlessly, and Jolly gives him another tap that makes him loosen his grip on his throat. Black spots blur his vision, just a little, and he sucks in air only to start begging for Ryan to hurry up, go faster, give it to him harder. Which is crazy, because if Ryan goes any harder, he’s going to hurt him and they both know it. Over the sound of his own blood thundering in his ears, he hears Ryan telling him to be patient, and he laughs.

It’s a miracle that he comes first, and Ryan isn’t that far behind him. He keeps Jolly from landing in his own come, instead pulling out of him slowly and then collapsing back onto the sofa with Jolly leaning into his chest. They’re both trying to catch their breath, slick with sweat and somehow, Ryan’s elbow was on the bottle of lube, miraculously getting it out of the way before it busted.

The scratches on Jolly’s chest sting. The one little cut is actually burning, and he knows that he’ll need to clean it. But he basks in the moment, knowing that Ryan is going to take care of him after like he always does.

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[onmyyan]

🗡️Psycho🗡️ Anon, here again! #5

Ya gonna have to make a divider folder for me or somethin for all my posts I’m submitting to ya at this rate…

Anywho as my brain was rottin n everythin I was sent into another eureka episode of delulu with Ashley Hunt. I’m so sorry but no not really cuz I love this man and I’d let him tie me up to him like a cock sleeve. Like seriously I wish this man would geta larger fan base too cuz he deserve a harem. Imma be whore #1 for him though plz…

So back to me thoughts. Imma be like those people jumpin into multiverses and constantly explorin AUs, cause it was another AU idea I had with meetin Ash. We got your original story reader, then the AU of hardcore city girl reader yours truly made (check out my submits #2 and #3 for new viewers), and now we got…

Bimbo AU reader!!!

Yea we samplin lots of different dishes hun! Cause sometimes I just wanna be “no thoughts head empty” ya know? But like not in a horrible misogynistic way…Like hardcore city girl was fun, but now let’s see something that’s more opposite of her character and see how Ash deals with this new character/reader personality.…so dontcha worry this new AU won’t be bad. I hope not…

You know the drill, story starts by us comin out to the small ass town in the countryside n livin with our grandma. In this AU though, grannie is doin just fine. It’s us who’s fucked. Ya see we got our hearts broken yet again in our home of the big city. We’re not that smart ya see…and cause of that we’re constantly taken advantage of by romantic prospects. What can I say? We’re a hopeless romantic at heart and wanna be whisked away be a handsome Prince on a horse…

So grannie thought it’d be good for us to leave the city for a while and come to the country to take a break from all the bullshit. We oblige cause there ain’t anyone who’d ever take advantage of us in a small town in the hicks. And some of our former suitors have been real bratty to us lately and our friends think distance might be the only solution at this point. Maybe we can become a better or new person by the time our stay with grannie is over. We could get whisked away to the land of Oz and getta new brain perhaps…

So now we all cheery comin out of our vehicle and unpackin our luggage. Ashley Hunt pops up of course and introduces himself. We get a lil flustered cause he big big at 6’6” and got the muscles to match. We polite n everythin and introduce ourselves too. He offers up to fix parts of the house (as per usual story sequence) and before we give him our answer, a small pocket journal falls from the luggage we’re carrying onto the floor. It’s guide our friends helped compile for us on “how to survive and make smart decisions” cause we just that naive and stupid…

It filled with tips, advice, and scenarios of what to do when a man does xyz. It even got a chart that you can answer yes, no, and the like that points you down to the final verdict at the bottom. We look over to the sound of the falling object and see the pocket journal and that enough for us to remember our poor decision making skills. So we just say “no” like our friends back at home have been drillin into us to practice sayin to men when we confused or can’t make a sound decision at the moment…

Ash is a bit taken aback at this and is asking us if we got someone else already comin to do repairs. We respond “no” again. Then he asks if we’re gonna do it ourselves. We say “no” again. And then we kinda just stand there in awkward silence for a few moments as Ash himself is just tryin to process what just happened himself…

We tell him it was nice meetin him and he gets the hint and bids adieu sayin that he hopes he can see more of us. And if we change our minds or need anythin from him to not hesitate to come n get him. “No” is what we reply with a smile cause we stupidly on auto pilot repeat mode still. Ash is just stupefied himself at this point wonderin what he did wrong as the door closes in his face and he got a while to think ridin home…

It’s been a couple days n we gotten all settled in. We haven’t gone into town yet and decided we should explore. We’ve also been running out of some food so it’d be good to pick up some groceries too while we at it. We go to town surprisingly easily given the single direct road from the house. Thank goodness for our poor brain…And as we shoppin in the small store mindin our business we get harassed by the town creep. A old poor drunk who tends to only come out durin late nights to a bar. But lucky us he had to come out this fine afternoon…

 He tells us how we must be new in town since he hasn’t seen our pretty face n all. We just smile and take his compliment cause we really do think he bein nice to us. Drunky of course takes this as an invite and starts gettin handsy and our danger signals finally start flarin. And whose hand comes in to save us? Our country beau Ash!

He easily pulls drunky back tellin him how his ma and pa raised an animal for doin something like that to a lady and throws him out of the store onto the street. Ash quickly comes back to us askin if we ok and all. We nod and tell him this ain’t our first rodeo dealin with men like that. To which we don’t notice the brief flashin murderous glint in his eyes as we ‘em this. He pushes the conversation to a better place askin how we’re enjoying town n everythin. And we happily tell him we likin the area so far. Easily forgettin the events that just occurred as we continue our shoppin with Ash by our side…

The conversation ends when our shoppin does n we tell Ash we should get home. He says goodbye he himself happy that we were able to be close and our second encounter wasn’t like our first again. Much more pleasant. And as we drivin back home we wanna do somethin nice for Ash since he saved us. But then we think back to our pocket journal and gotta consult it first…

As we lookin through it we realize that it doesn’t have anything for what to do when a man saves you from danger…Sure it got what to do when a man offers you a free ride in his vehicle, when a man offers you a free drink or meal, or when a man gifts you somethin really expensive. But nothin about a man savin you from another man…So what the fuck do we do?

We ask our grannie for advice since she gotta have something good. She asks us what is our head tellin us what he might like. We respond with “blowin him? Men always told me that’s when they liked me the most” Grannie is not amused. She is also concerned for our survival out in the world. She suggests we bake him a pie since she a bit old fashioned thinkin that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And you can’t ever go wrong with somethin sweet…

We reluctantly agree as she really really pushes it as she obviously doesn’t want us going down the other route. And so we spend the rest of the afternoon bakin a cherry pie for Ash for me to take to him later in the evenin when he’s probably for sure done with farm work. Night comes and we going alone to Ash’s residence. And luckily it also a one way road down from grannie’s so our poor brain won’t break down and malfunction. We go up to Ash’s large large house. He got a big farm too. And so we knock his door with the door knocker and it a cute shoe horse…

Ash is genuinely surprised to see us. And so late at night too. He initially woulda thought somethin bad had happened if not for the pie in front of us pushing it to him with a smile. “I made you a cherry pie. Well grannie and I did. As thanks for helping me out today at the market,” we say in the cutest way possible that’s about to make him cumbust. “Grannie wouldn’t let me thank you how I woulda wanted to.” Ash grins back wonderin how you’d thank him, and before he can ask outa curiosity we keep talkin…”I would’ve blown you as thanks. But if you don’t like the cherry pie I can still blow you if you’d like. I can do it in your bed too if it’d help you go to sleep too”…

Ash is just a stunned red hot blushin mess at this point and he swears his precum is probably sleeping out of him by now and if he moves an inch he’ll probably nut in his pants. We ask him if he ok and if he’s got a fever since he so red and not movin, and Ash just a stumblin mess of words n expressions. He eventually excuses himself and invites us in and prepares dishware and cutlery for us to try the cherry pie. We start apologizin and tellin him that he ain’t gonna like it since we aren’t good cooks and all. And he reassures us that he’s sure that it’ll taste delightful…

Now it’s uwu boohoo story time as we tell Ash that no one ever likes our cookin or bakin as it’s always tasted bad. All the men we were with previously also tried to get us to cook or bake for them at some point and were also disgusted with us and our abilities that we just ended up eating out all the time before the eventual break up for somethin else. So we tellin Ash with our eyes gettin a bit wet n glassy that this is our last warnin and we happy to give him a proper thanks instead. And Ash gives us one look before devouring the whole cherry pie easily himself and then sayin “it was the best cherry pie I’ve ever had.” And we just stunned n waitin for him to throw up n topple over or somethin. But he doesn’t. Instead they’re a small bite left and he picks it up with his fork and pushes it up to our mouth. Tellin us to try it. We open our mouths and eat it. And it’s not bad? Ash smiles at us and tells us to have more faith in ourselves. We smile back too…

Ash asks if we need any help gettin back home since it’s dark out and he’s ok with walkin home n stuff. We good and leave promptly back home. And while we wantin to feel good from everythin that happened we don’t let ourselves as we read our pocket journal almost every night. Advice n notes from friends actin as our conscious tellin us we always fall for men who give us the slightest attention and men are scummy liars who can fake about anythin if it means gettin some kitty. So we just try to tell ourselves that Ash is probably fakin it and is vomitin the pie probably right now. But we tasted it…the cherry pie did taste good…

And so for the next while with grannie we wanna try cookin and bakin more. Much to her delight. And we really really tryin. Tryin have more faith in ourselves n everythin. We makin everythin from cute sandwiches, cookies, to hand made pasta. Really becomin versatile in different dishes for any persons stomach. Soon enough we meet Ash again when we on a grocery run and can’t help but blush a little n hope he doesn’t notice. He asks how we’ve been and we happily tell him everythin. He says he’d be honored to try more of our cookin and bakin if we have any spare leftovers or need to use a taste tester much to our laughter…

We part ways once again and going home for the night and cookin dinner with grannie wouldn’t you know…the fuckin house really could’ve used some repairs here and there cause the damn oven gave out before bed. So grannie having her old timey mentality just told us to go over to Ash’s the next morning and ask him to borrow his kitchen for the day to make a few meals for the week for us. And it’d be good practice for me to go at cookin n bakin alone. We wanna say “no” as our conditioning from our friends taught us to, but grannie persists and isn’t taking no for an answer. So mornin comes and we gotta leave early to catch Ash before he leaves work early for the farm…

We drive n go up to Ash’s at dawn hopin he’ll be up at least and we haven’t completely woken him from bed. Much to our delight he’s up and wonderin what we need. Playfully sayin that it’s awful early to be bringin him food but he’ll always be ready to accept anythin from us. We explain the situation to him and luckily he agrees a bit too excitedly. He jumps and easily brings in some of the bags of food we brought in the car into the house and onto the kitchen counter for us. We start preparin food and Ash just sits back and watches us for a bit with a grin that’d make fish forget how to swim. Tellin us eventually that he needs to get goin but to make ourselves at home…

So the day progresses and sure enough it’s afternoon and Ash comes back into the house thinkin he can take a quick shower since some of the bulls he had to wrestle were especially bitchy today and tossed him around in the environment a little more than usual. And lo and behold when the door opens Ash hears from us “yay! You’re back! I was wonderin when you were coming home. I made you lunch. I bet you’re hungry from working so hard!” Pinching himself wouldn’t be enough to wake up from this blissful dream Ash thought. No he’d have to ram himself into the bull pen and even getting kicked n bucked by wild horses wouldn’t be enough to wake him. Not that he’d ever want to wake up from this moment anyway…

Ash comes into the kitchen and sure enough sees us settin out his food for him and usherin him to eat. We made him a large ass cheeseburger with a baked potato and coleslaw on the side. We keep babbling to him as Ash is just kinda in lalaland takin in us in the kitchen lookin all cute n shit and bein happy to see him. “…to your liking right? Wouldn’t want something so small since your so massive and everything. I couldn’t handle eating something so big. Can’t wrap my hands around it. I’d probably choke”…

And so this brings Ash outa lalaland and into hornyboner land as he’s just tryin not to take what the last few words we said outta context. That and he’s also trying to get his lil friend to settle down and not make the table rise from underneath…Ash is happily eatin and is doin his best to act normal…though everythin we doin to him is so domestic…Askin how his days goin so far, how much longer he’ll be workin, when he comin back home, what he wants for dinner…We givin this man a seizure practically and Ash probably needs to get his blood checked after we leave for the day…

And with the last bit of sanity Ash has he manages to leave n go back to work after he done eatin lunch. We bid him goodbye n say “take care. Make sure to stay safe for me ok? I don’t want you gettin hurt. Bye!” Needless to say Ash is doing peachy…We continue cookin the rest of our meals for grannie and I for the week in addition to startin a dinner for Ash too. Durin this time we get done a bit earlier than expected and see that some of his blankets in his livin room could use a wash and get the idea to help a bit more since he’s been so kind lettin us use his kitchen. And we look around the house just a lil for any more laundry to do…

We find the laundry room. Throw in the blankets and some towels and other items too. Cause it just easy to do it in one go ya know? And after some time when we all done to our horror some of the once white items are now a cute pink. And we panicking cause what’s Ash gonna do to us once we fucked up? It ain’t good n thinkin if we should quickly pack up n make a run for it to our car. As if the universe hated us we Ash comes in unnoticed sayin that he was callin for us for a bit throughout the house…

We shakin and lookin at him watery and glassy eyed thinkin that this is the end for us. Cause this is what always happen to us with men. We always find a way to make them mad at us and ruin whatever relationship we had goin on whether it was platonic or romantic. Cause we’re just that dumb and don’t have anything else goin on for us in life aside from our cute face n body accordin to them. And so we just do what we’ve always done when confronted with similar situations and go real quiet. Wait to be scolded for all our shortcomings n stuff. Then tossed outside and cry on our bed for the next week or something…

Ash just looks at us and asks if we were also doing our laundry. And we just remain beady eyed n silent like a deer in the headlights. Ash asks again and asks if we need any help of anythin. And at this point we just go on auto pilot mode again and start sayin we’re sorry and cryin. Ash of course is surprised and very gentle sayin that it’s ok and just hugs us lets us sob and cry. Get it out of our system…

After we’ve gained a bit of our composure he surprises us by carrying us extremely easily bridal style to the livin room where we explain what happened and how some of his stuff is now pink. He lets out a hearty chuckle and tells us not to worry our pretty little head. “It’s just fabric. It can be replaced if I really needed it to” And he also tells us he doesn’t mind the pink. It’ll give him something now to always think of us. To always have of us…

And so we laugh at it some more and then we both sit down in the dining room to eat the dinner I prepared for us. It some chicken, pasta, and salad and we talk some more about Ash’s day n life in general. We take him up in his offer in the end to do some repairs around grannie’s house since our oven fell apart and we wouldn’t want the rest of the house crumblin too. Much to his delight cause now he has reason to swing by more. We finish up eatin and I bring out a cute lil Angel cake for dessert for him n we eat a bit of it together. Night ends with me packing up the rest of the week’s meals for grannie and I and drivin back home. Tellin Ash how much we appreciated him for lettin us borrow his kitchen and not gettin mad at us for messin up his laundry…

And so the next week progresses with Ash comin to do repairs on the house and us talkin to him a lot while he does it. He never tells us to be quiet or what we’re sayin is dumb and stupid. He genuinely really happy to be hearin our voice no matter what’s comin out. Before we know it we’ve forgotten all about readin our little pocket journal n stuff for advice. And even when he done with all the repairs we practically just hang out with him about every other day…

On one of the days we hangin out with him he brings us out to the stables where he keeps his horses for a surprise he wants to show us. In the stables there are some ribbons of all different colors and lots of brushes. He told us he remembered that we thought it’d be fun to dress up his horses and make ‘em all cute braidin their hair n stuff. So he wanted to fulfill that wishful thought of ours. And we beamin happy as fuck cause no man ever really was this considerate of us and remembered what we said even if it was somethin like a small fleetin thought. So we spend the day decorating the horses of course safely as Ash makes sure we know how to handle the animals in a way so we don’t scare them. But not like the horses get scared cause Ash got the best horses n trained them the best a person would probably ever see. He’d never put us in any potential harms way…

And towards the end of the day we take a ride on the horse of our choosin. A large white stallion all cute with multi colored ribbons we put on it. It’s our first time ridin with Ash and the first time did not disappoint. It was fun and he made sure we were comfortable all the way. We felt so safe n secure being able to lean back into his broad n muscular body we coulda sworn we could’ve fell asleep if we wanted to. Have we ever felt this comfortable and happy bein with a man before?…

Starts to get dark out and we head back to his residence. Ash puts his horse away and while he at it we excuse ourselves to go to the bathroom. When we enter his house we find that some of the stuff we accidentally dyed pink is nicely arranged around the house. He kept it just as he said. Some blankets over some furniture and some pink towels n such in the bathroom and kitchen. When we leave and meet Ash outside where our car is parked we have a faint blush on our face. Tellin him he doesn’t have to keep the pink to spare our feelings. And Ash responds again n reassures us sayin he likes it. “Keeps you around the house when I can’t see you”…

We smile at this and ask him if we can add another touch while we’re at it. He of course agrees. Sayin that we can do whatever we want to his house cause he’s sure he’ll like it. And so we pull out a big pink ribbon from our pocket n tie it all nice n pretty on the horse shoe knocker on the front door. Tellin him it’s so that we don’t forget this very happy n special day. We give Ash a big hug n burry ourselves into him tellin him how much we appreciated this gesture he did for us today. And Ash of course is equally happy n prayin that we don’t notice the massive bulge in his jeans. So we leave n drive back home to grannie’s finally. Leavin Ash to admire the new cute addition to the house…

After some more time we goin on a nature walk by ourselves in the late afternoon. Just enjoyin gettin out of the house for a bit. We figure Ash is hard doin his farm work so we may drop by later during our walk and wait for him when he done. As we walkin we see a car on the road drivin up. It’s a pretty luxurious lookin car n we really truly don’t think much about it n all. It starts to slow down n pulls up to us. The driver door opens and a man comes out…it’s one of our fuckin exes…

He gets all giddy sayin that he knew it was us from the dress we were wearin. And before we know it he pulls our hands into his n starts spewing how he was wrong to have dumped us and that we were the best girlfriend we ever had. Though it unsurprisingly quickly goes into him mostly degrading us. Tellin us that even though we have nothin goin on in our head at least we have the best bedroom skills he’s ever experienced. That’s something we actually good at doin n that we should get back together n pretend like our breakup never happened. Him continuously sayin too that we need him to survive and to be smart for once and listen to his words. To trust him completely. To rely on him completely. And that no man other than him can love n protect us as well as he can…

 We luckily go into autopilot safety mode sayin “no” to him n stuff. He takes this about as well you’d think…Goin “why the hell not!? What’s the matter baby? Country air messin with what’s left in that head of yours?” The man askin question after question. Accusation after accusation only to be met with a “no” from us that keeps increasing in panic and fear. He just snaps and starts to pull us into the passenger seat of his car. Tellin us that we just need some time and we’re heading back to the city now. Obviously we fightin our best and start to cry cause we scared as hell as we should be…

Just like out of a fairytale, or I guess one of them western movies, a lasso comes out of nowhere in the far distance and latches itself easily around the man’s neck. And before anyone of us can process what’s happenin. The man is violently choked and dragged to the ground with our cowboy beau’s silhouette in the distance literally pulling him by the throat. It doesn’t take much for the man’s body to go limp…though we don’t see that as Ash made sure to drag the body with his horse deeper into the tall grass before death finally came. And the wolves later if Ash doesn’t deal with the body first…

We cryin and still tryin to process the events that still happened. With Ash on his horse quickly comin up to us, dismountin it and holding onto us tightly. Doin what he does best and consoling us as we let it all out. After a bit he picks us up and placed us on his horse. Tellin us that we’re goin back to his house for the time bein since it’s not safe outside right now for me. We of course nod and just lay into his body. Lettin his comforting smell envelop us as our steady ride home soothes the rest of our nerves…

Back at his home Ash fixed us up with some hot cocoa and us bundled up in a cute pink blanket on the sofa. Lettin us take our time to compile our thoughts n speak when we wanna. Eventually we tell him thanks for savin us and how that man was one of our exes. We tell him how he was gonna take us back to the city with him if Ash didn’t show up when he did. And we joke how Ash is like our knight in shining armor ridin on his loyal stallion to save us time n time again. This isn’t the first time talkin about our love life n bad relationships with men to Ash as we’ve talked to him over the course of gettin to know each other. So we just enjoy Ash’s presence and lean into him. Too tired from the bullshit that happened today…

Ash bein the fine gentleman he is offers to take us home or if we’d like we can spend the night at his place. We take him up on that as we say we can use a friend right now. So we get better back to our normal selves gradually as the rest of the evening progresses. Cookin n bakin together all while giggling too. We eat dinner n dessert, chat some more n get ready to go to bed. Ash gets us all fixed up in a neat n tidy spare bedroom of many he got for the night. Sayin if we need anythin he’ll be in his bedroom. But he wasn’t expecting us to look at him weirdly n say “can’t you sleep with me tonight?”…

This takes him back a bit as we continue to babble sayin that this is what our friends would do with us back when something bad happened to us. Though they were girl friends and not boy friends…but to us there’s really no difference…So he responds askin if that’d make us feel safer n better he’d do it, albeit in a very very flustered manner. We squeal with delight and say we can just sleep in his bed then. No need to be cleanin sheets for a guest bedroom afterwards…

And so here we are lyin in Ash’s large ass bed in a cute pink baby doll nightgown tellin him to come settle in after he done with his shower after we went in first. Ash is doin well as you’d imagine thinkin that his dick n balls r gonna strangle him in his sleep that is if he can get any sleep tonight which he doubts. So we settle in bed together and as Ash closes his eyes n rolls over to his side to make sure we couldn’t feel his raging boner durin the night he feels our presence over him. We lean down and kiss him on the forehead n say “your suppose to wish each other good night silly”. And so he like a blushin bride about to cumbust from bein kissed for the first time by us. He stutters a quick apology, says goodnight to us and tries to focus on not dyin tonight cause he’s really fighting for his life right now…

And so the night progresses and he can’t sleep and neither can we. We poke Ash’s back a bit a whisper askin him if he’s awake. He grunts a yea. We ask him if he’s up for some “late night girlie talk” and he obliges us of course. So we start off nice n easy by askin him “do you ever think I’ll find true love?” And this psychologically springs forth Ash into action with his body turnin to us in the dark…

He doesn’t hesitate to say “yes” and starts spewin the most romantic shit ever. Tellin us that we’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. Inside and outside. He looks forward to seein our face every time. We always are so considerate of others. So selfless and that any sane man would fall on their knees for a chance to be with us…

We start tearin up a little sayin he doesn’t have to say that to us to make us feel better n all. We got poor self esteem of course and are in that perpetual compliment denial phase. And so Ash turns on one of the night stand lamps and asks us if he looks like we’re lyin to him. Of course we see nothing but sincerity painted across his handsome face and tell him “no”. He gently takes our hands into his and says “I would love to have a chance at bein with ya. Can I have a go? I promise you’ll never regret” as he looks deeply into our eyes…

And so we a blushin mess too now. The hopeless romantic in us quickly risin to the surface to break through as we pull our hands out from Ash’s and take his face to push our lips onto his. Pulling back after his surprised reaction with a “yes!” and smilin and continuin our attack on his plush lips. Ash eagerly accepts as the passion between us is utterly unchained. Both going at each other barely gaspin for air between kisses on the face neck and body…

Ash was wearin some trunks and a shirt to be polite to us since we were gonna be sleeping together with no funny business goin on but now those easily came off as he also tore off our own nightgown too to do the deed. And so the night was filled with nothing but love. Ash takin care of us in a way that’s never been done before and in a way we didn’t think that’s ever be possible. And us returning the favor and finally showin us our skills that we’ve always been complimented on. It almost become more of like a competition really seein who could make the other fall apart faster and let the other completely dominate them. Ash won eventually havin us mewl from his lips pressed against our nipples, cock rearranging our guts, and fingers rubbin our clit. The rest of the night quickly flew by and the mornin light was pourin into the room…

Alas after the night’s events Ash continued to court us. Tellin us that it’s what we deserved n makin us fall in love with him further n further. Grannie was delighted of course knowin that we’re in good hands for the rest of our lives if we decided to wed him. And Ash finally took us around town to meet the locals n everything since we still hadn’t really met anyone or made connections. Introducing us as his lady and makin it very clear of course that we were off limits. Though we never noticed that behavior from our kind hearted Ash…

Eventually Ash proposed to us in a beautiful landscape right outta a fairytale book and we of course screamed “yes”. We invited the entire town in one of those big open wedding events and also called on our friends in the city to come down too. Makin them sick with worry since we hadn’t been in touch for so long and they were worried about us since our ex came lookin for us a while ago. Though no one knew where he disappeared to in the end…Some people out of legal obligation had to search for him but with his history of substance abuse benders, no one was really surprised that he couldn’t turn up in the end. So it’d always be just one of those “don’t care cold cases”…

The wedding was splendid. Bein surrounded by friends n family. And of course walkin down the aisle to Ash. Movin into Ash’s was the easiest thing in the world too and Ash was thrilled to let us decorate the place more. And with all the fuckin we were doin durin the courtship it wasn’t really a surprise that we ended up pregnant. Walked down the aisle while we were pregnant though thankfully no one knew as we weren’t showing obvious signs yet. Wouldn’t want the locals to think ill of Ash or I thinkin it was a shotgun weddin or anythin…

In the end we got our happily ever after with our Prince Charming who’d always come to save us. And now we’re havin twins on the way to join us too. So we’ll be a stay at home mother and wife much to Ash’s relief as he wants us in a safe environment where he can always get to us easily. Ash also isn’t ever worried about money or resources. He got plenty to take care of us and our family. He wants a big one too. At least 5 more babies too. And we’ll happily oblige that wish cause he gave his heart to us just as we gave him ours. To love each other forever n forever.

Scene!!! I’m done with this AU! Thank fuck it was hella long! Way too long to be honest but it was honestly so much fun to write about a “Bimbo” Reader that I wanted to make sure I gave her a good amount of depth and didn’t make the story seem lazy with no build up or progression with evidence of Ash’s and Reader’s relationship. I wanted it to feel “earned” and plausible ya know?

I also wanted it to be clearly different from the City Reader AU as it’s fun to explore different characters/personalities and thus how the story will unfold differently for each of them. Didn’t want to have too many of the same scenes or scenarios either from the City Reader AU, so that’s why there isn’t “cowboy hat rule” for example in the Bimbo Reader AU. So fresh n new scenes with Ash. And I also had real fun explorin Ash again and how he navigates this new reader. Cause City Reader is obviously in a rush to get outta town and doesn’t wanna be in a relationship with Ash, so Ash is put into an extreme time crunch. Really showin his “yan” side in that AU. While in the Bimbo Reader AU the girls obviously not in a rush to leave or anythin and is more scared if anythin to be in a relationship again. She’s much more vulnerable and Ash understands that so like dealin with a spooked animal he knows he gotta play the long game with this girlie. As such this AU really showed his “dere” side more I think. Of course I included the twins n 5 more babies at the end cause I figure even in multiple AUs the existences of other characters still happen. So to me it wouldn’t really make sense if Reader suddenly only had 3 kids in this Bimbo AU or didn’t have twins at first pregnancy

So lemme know how I did. Lemme know if you enjoyed it or not

P.S. Girlie did you get my submission #4 or did Tumblr censor it and delete it or somethin? Do I gotta resubmit it to ya!?

Love 🗡️Psycho🗡️ Anon

I AM CONSISTENTLY BLOWN AWAY BY YOU OMFG THABK YOUUUUU I ADORE BIMBO READER SO MUCH SJDKDMDM THE WAY ASH IS SO SOFT WITH HERRRRRR OMFG YOU DID UR BIG ONE WITH THIS BABES DHDJDND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEE

[violet-fire-cat]

👀

Hehe I'm so glad I got sent a few of these! I'm gonna have fun rambling about aus now! Lots of rambling. I'm not kidding. This one at least is uh- long. Oops.

As I said before, a lot of my AUs are Ethubs focused, but hopefully you guys don't mind that! 😅

Soooo, let's see, which one should I start with, hmmmmmm. Let's go with one I was talking about with a friend a lot a few weeks ago!

And that would be -

Assassin Creed AU 🗡️ Well- it's inspired by Assassin's Creed anyway. I am not well versed enough on the series lore to do anything that sticks to it too closely. I wanted to play around with ideas a bit anyway. But I started playing one of the games again a while ago and that's where the ideas came from.

Assassin AUs have been done before, yes. But this one is mine!

Etho is an assassin, somewhere in the 18th/19th century, and has been with the Assassin's Brotherhood for most of his life. He's very good at what he does. He's smart, quick, and stealthy. Like a ghost with a knife. You won't know he's there until his blade has found it's way into your throat.

The Brotherhood consists of various other Hermits, including; Doc - retired assassin now serving as the groups main medic Tango - his targets often go out with a bang. or with fire. Grian - death from above Cleo - master of poisons and deadly concoctions Impulse - weaponsmith, where you go for a new knife or gun Zedaph - creator of gadgets and nifty tools and Mumbo - the spymaster. Kinda. Not really. Far too squeamish for assassin work. So he handles information gathering, sorting out jobs and targets, etc

They work together to take out criminals and other bad people who are causing issues in the area. As well as probably aiming to solve some sort of ancient mystery like in the games. (Though I haven't figured that part out yet.)

The story is mostly focused on Etho, a lot of what I have is about his and Bdubs' relationship too, but there's other stuff as well. Rambling continues under the cut ~

Etho doesn't interact with civillians much. But then he meets Bdubs. Bdubs is not affiliated with the Brotherhood. He's a craftsman. He works with wood, leather, and sometimes metal, making tools and clothes mostly, but weaopns too, and selling them in his little shop. Etho goes there on a whim looking for quick repairs or a replacement.

Bdubs is a pretty ordinary guy just going about his life. He has no idea what's in store for him when he meets Etho that day.

Etho is- odd. Tall and mysterious, and dressed in strange clothes. Bdubs doesn't know what to make of him. But treats him like any other customer. He does what's asked of him, Etho pays well. And he finds himself with a regular visitor.

Etho isn't entirely sure why he keeps going back there. He knows other people with the same skillset that he could go to instead. But there's something about Bdubs... There's something drawing Etho to him in a way he's never really experienced before.

Gradually, they become friends. And with time, that friendship progresses. Etho slowly falls in love with Bdubs, and realises that he's so screwed. He's never been in love before. And these- these- emotions. Are not easy to deal with! He doesn't know how to handle Bdubs being so gentle with him, so kind and smiling so sweetly.

And. Yeah. Things develop. A very touch starved Etho craves the gentleness and kindness that Bdubs gives him so easily. Etho has friends, sure, but this is different. Someone detatched from the violence of his work. Someone willing to care for him and love him despite all that he is. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before.

Bdubs never expected to get tangled up with someone like Etho. Danger surrounds him. Etho could leave one day and just. Never come back. But behind all that. Behind the layers of Trained Killer. There's a sweet, slightly shy guy that Bdubs can't help but love.

It's not all plain sailing though. No no. There's drama and chaos too of course. The nature of Etho's work kind of requires it. One time Etho returns to base badly hurt, and in a state of 'I thought I was going to die and all I wanted was to see you again,' he's asking Doc, who's looking after him, for Bdubs. Another time, Bdubs gets captured by the bad guys and Etho and the other assassin's have to rescue him. There's heartbreak as events leave Etho thinking that Bdubs doesn't want to see him anymore. And the difficulty of tracking down an assassin who doesn't want to be found. Etho becomes over protective at times, which Bdubs isn't fond of. But panic ensues when that protectiveness leads to Etho hurting Bdubs accidentally. Bdubs doesn't know what to think of seeing Etho kill someone. Knowing it happens is one thing, actually seeing it happen is another.

There's ups and downs, and I want there to be some overarching mission that Etho and the rest of the Assassin's are working towards. But I don't know what that is yet. I need to brainstorm and play the games more I think.

However, meanwhile, in the present day. Another young man, funnily enough also known as 'Etho', has somehow gotten himself roped into an investigation being done on his ansestor. A- distant cousin. Or something. He thinks. But the guy was an assassin. Which is cool. Fancy technology he'd never heard of allows him to relive the 'genetic memories' of the assassin. See what he experienced and learn about his life. About the things he did, the people he knew, and the events he was a part of. Hoping it'll help them find answers to something that's going on now.

This Etho, nerdy computer science graduate Etho, is very confused but overall rather fascinated by it all. Though he realises quickly there's a lot more at stake here than facts and figures about centuries old history. He learns a lot about his assassin ancestor and the life he lived. Maybe... Maybe too much. He's not sure that he wanted to know about the more- private parts of the guys life. It's interesting that the man the assassin was in love with looked a lot like one of the technicians working on this investigation, though. It's probably just a coincidence. The odds of it being anything else are far, far too small. But he is rather handsome, so surely you can't blame Etho for having a bit of a crush on him...

And- I am going to stop there or I could ramble all night dfghj. I love this AU a lot, if you couldn't tell. I'm probably forgetting things, but this is already more than enough to get an idea of how things go! There's assassins! And drama! And romance! And it's so much fun!

Thank you Anon for giving me an excuse to ramble endlessly about my AU! If you want to ask more about this au though then please do! Aaand maybe I'll draw something for it at some point too, I've been wanting to for a while hehe!

[missys-mansion-of-mistakes]

July 25th, 2024. Thursday.

🗡️ I had a productive enough day before work. Managed to fix up a writing piece of mine for my writing group's Workshop this Sunday. (There's an open invitation for anyone to join by the way, there's like 5 of us active and we're all really friendly.) I tried to work on scholarship essays more, but my brain sort've short-circuited when confronted with more writing. So, just had to accept that for the day.

👔 Had a pretty OK day at work. Starting to settle into my role. I feel like someone who's SO incompetent but I think I'm starting to figure it out? I don't know... I'm working on it, or I'm trying to. Pushing hard to learn more about what I should actually be doing here. The good news though is that I'm off work until Monday, so I don't have to think about it for THREE DAYS! Yay!

📌 I printed out a bunch of pictures to collage my corkboard at work with. They're all really pretty, a lot of them from tumblr, that I've just collected over the years. Looking forward to putting them up.

🌄 So glad to have several days off. Now I can really be productive again. Feels good.

What are you grateful for right now?

Sending good vibes your way!

[Photos: The photos I printed out for the collage, my outfit of the day.]