#So many books I want to bind now

[kaiyonohime]

So I write in a diary every night. I enjoy it. And I usually buy them at the local dollar store, and one book lasts me roughly six months. But they're going to stop carrying the style of book I like soon, and I don't like the others they have.

So my brilliant little brain said hey, I've seen people bind books, I can do that too! I mean, it's only a journal, not anything fancy, how hard could it be?

So now I'm looking up what I need to make a lined paper book with a ribbon. What the hell is my life at times?

I blame everyone who posts book binding videos for enabling me. Because my brain also said hey, once I get the hang of journals, how hard could fanfiction be? And faire tale books for my son?

Damnit. And I know I don't have the time needed. Exactly right now. But he's beginning to sleep at night, and I can stay up an hour longer...

[everythingisstardust]

Why is it that the muses always strike right when I'm about to go to bed/suffering from insomnia? I've been planning on using this giant canvas for a tardigrade painting for nearly two months now, and then suddenly, right when I put on my pjs, I actually get the motivation/ inspiration to do it?

Anyway here's the guy half done, gotta wait for the paint to dry. (I'm very bad at that, which is why I love acrylic paint. Very good for my slap-dash methods.)

[lohstandfound]

my god i desperately want this idea to work but can i?? i don't know

[occudo]

An incomplete list of TMA fics I adore

-beacuse of this ask

(If you liked the fics I previously recommended/made fanart for, I think you'll gonna like these as well, but you know, read the tags, know what you are going into)

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey @cirrus-grey

Time Travel Fix-it! Slow burn! So good! So much sass from future!Jon- I doubt I have to introduce anyone this amazing author, but if you somehow missed them till now, this is your time! I highly recommend all of their other fics as well, for example one of a more recent one, The Stranger I Know Best is also a lovely read.

enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing @primtheamazing

Vampire!Martin!! I have no words of how much I love this concept, this story, everything about this. I think I'm going to repeat myself through this list, but I also recommend everything else they've written!

to fill... my heart with music? by godshaper @godshaper so their Martin and Jon design are different from mine, also they made a way better art for this- but still, I wanted to include this really good fic in this list.

Do It All Anew by inkfingers_mcgee or @crit20art

You know the feeling when you read a book that makes you cry, and after that you recommend it to your friend? Well- there is no reason I mentioned this, I'm just so normal about this fic. Or any other fic from inkfingers_mcgee... like Strange Manner of what I made another fanart way back. Also, check out their art!

Anyway, here is Aamal- she is not going to cause emotional damage.

And they were sidekicks (oh my god, they were sidekicks) by arthureameslove @arthureameslove

A lighthearted series where Jon and Martin are sidekicks of supervillains- it's just a really fun fic, also recommend everyting from this author - I previously draw fanart here for an other fic of theirs Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home

neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well by saintbleeding @saintbleeding

To quote the aurthour: "Post-divorce Jon and Martin in a wedding-based romcom" It's such a comfort read, also has a Tim/Sasha wedding, and lots of cameos! I realised most of these authors I made fanarts for before- like this one for some kind of miraculous bind, this one is oneshot and a bit more serious in tone.

Give Me the Words by rakel @rakel-on-ao3

"Jon and Martin try to make the most of a bad situation in the Scottish Highlands. The situation is worse than they realised." You know that one post about wanting to write PWP, but it keeps turning into character study? Well, this one comes to my mind each time I see that.

i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy @transgenderboobs

So what would have happened if instead of the cot (tm), Jon offered Martin his own flat to stay? There is no way it's going to change their relationship, right? Such a good read, if you want some fluff, I highly recommend it!

Lucky Stars by magnetarmadda @magnetarmadda

Martin has a lovely family (except his mother) but still, he needs a fake boyfriend, and Jon comes to the rescue. It's one of the first fics I remember reading after I finished the series. It is such a comfort read of mine~

(+enjoy a rare tall Jon from me)

There are so many more fics that also deserve the spotlight, these are just the ones I read multiple times and/or didn't made fanarts for before. If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are PWP or rated T- just mind the tags)

I tried to link and tag everything, I hope it works.

[sims-himbo]

THE SIMS 4: BARBIE Legacy Challenge!

oh hi there! i haven't posted here in a while, but i just watched the barbie movie a few days ago and needless to say, it is now my entire personality. so here's my first ever legacy challenge based on barbie's many, many careers and achievements!

apologies in advance, this challenge uses a lot of packs! i'm sorry! i might try to make a base game version at some point

BASE GAME version

portuguese translation by @demaciana-sims

sims 3 version by @appaloosawhims

challenge rules below the cut

All heirs must be female and named Barbie. (non-heir children may have any name)

You may use the freerealestate cheat for your first house, but try not to use money cheats after that!

You are allowed and encouraged to use lot traits and rewards to boost skill gain, anything that’s in-game is fair game.

Packs you will need:

EPs: Get To Work, City Living, Cats & Dogs, Get Famous, Island Living, High School Years

GPs: Spa Day*, Parenthood

Optional packs (for the optional generations):

EPs: University, Cottage Living, Horse Ranch

GPs: Strangerville

*You only need Spa Day for the High Maintenance trait in one of the generations and nothing else, so it's fine to skip out on it.

You've been raised with traditional values: find a good man, start a family, be a homemaker... But you want your children to aim higher, so you'll make sure to set them up for success.

Complete Successful Lineage aspiration

Max Parenting and Cooking skills

Have at least 3 kids and 1 pet, each child must complete at least one child aspiration and they must all max out their grades in school

Must have Family-Oriented trait

Your mother was happy staying at home, but not you. You're ready to fight your way to the top and make enough money to support your family for generations to come.

Complete Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

Max Charisma and Logic skills

Max Business career (Investor branch)

Must have Ambitious trait

Your family is pretty wealthy, so you've used your funds to open up your very own vet clinic and follow your dreams of being surrounded by furry little guys all day! But it might be more difficult than you thought...

Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration

Max Veterinarian skill

Run a 5-star vet clinic

Have at least 3 pets and be good friends with all of them

Must have either Cat Lover or Dog Lover trait

You grew up surrounded by pets, and you now want to explore even more of the animal kingdom... So you're going underwater! What magical secrets will you discover on your journey?

Must live in Sulani

Complete Beach Life aspiration

Max Conservationist career (Marine Biologist branch)

Become a mermaid

Max Logic and Fitness skills

Must have Child of the Ocean trait

Your mother had an almost supernatural level of fitness at sea, so now you've been inspired to master fitness on land! You're determined to reach your full potential in physical performance and become a world class champion.

Join Cheer or Football team as a teenager and reach highest level

Complete Bodybuilder aspiration

Max Fitness and Charisma skills

Max Athlete career (Athlete branch)

Must have Active trait

Your family has achieved many, many accolades, and you've set out to capture all of it in an epic Tell-All novel that you spend your entire life writing!

Complete Bestselling Author aspiration

Max Writing skill

Write Book Of Life and bind it to your parent, use it to successfully bring them back from a premature death

Must have Creative trait

Movie stardom is the next logical step for your lineage, so you set out to conquer the silver screen. Will you catapult the family name into even greater heights, or will it now be associated with infamy?

Complete Master Actress aspiration

Max Acting skill

Must reach at least Proper Celebrity status

Must have a secret affair with a fellow Actor!

Must have High Maintenance trait

As the child of a successful actress, people may roll their eyes and immediately write you off as yet another nepo-baby trying to start a music career... So you must prove them all wrong by becoming a proper rockstar!

Complete World Famous Celebrity aspiration

Max Singing skill

Max skill in at least 2 instruments

Max Entertainer career (Musician branch)

Must have Music Lover trait

What's next after conquering so many careers and reaching worldwide fame for the family name? World domination, of course! Become the greatest Leader this nation has ever seen!

Complete Mansion Baron aspiration

Max Politician career (Politician branch)

Max Charisma skill

Must have Self-Assured trait

Now that you've conquered the world, it's time to venture out into Space! There's so much to explore out there, and Barbie must leave her mark all across the galaxy.

Complete Nerd Brain aspiration

Max Astronaut career (Either branch)

Max Logic and Rocket Science skills

Go to SIXAM at least once and bring a souvenir

Must have Genius trait

Still want more? Here's some extra Barbies that you can play with!

Secret Agent Barbie

Complete Bodybuilder aspiration

Must have Active and Geek traits

Complete Secret Agent career (Diamond Agent branch)

Max Logic, Fitness and Charisma skills

Become enemies with a Sim in the Villain branch of the Secret Agent career! (You may need to cheat this career level for sims outside your household)

Countryside Barbie

Complete Country Caretaker aspiration

Max Gardening skill

Must make all money from gardening, farming, wine making, etc. No day job!

Must own a horse and have it max every skill

Must have Animal Enthusiast trait

Army General Barbie

Must live in Strangerville

Complete Strangerville Mystery aspiration

Max Logic and Charisma skills

Max Military career (Either branch)

Must have Erratic trait

Scientist Barbie

Complete Nerd Brain aspiration

Max Scientist Career

Be abducted by Aliens at least once

Must have Genius trait

Ultimate Barbie

Set lifespan to long

Complete at least 2 child aspirations

Complete Renaissance Sim AND Academic aspirations

Max 10 skills

Have 12 or more traits

Graduate from college

Reach the top of any career

Have a house worth 1 Million Simoleons

Have at least 5 kids and max your relationship with all of them

that's about it! if you play this, please use #sims barbie legacy

have fun:)

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE Pt. 2 // t. nott x e. berkshire x m. riddle

RATING: R / 7.1K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Theodore Nott x Lorenzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After Theo cheats on you one time too many, you go to his and your friends seeking comfort.

+ WARNINGS - (whoo boy, this is gonna be a lot) SMUT! Foursome (reader x 3 guys), Unprotected PIV, sub!reader, softdom!Theo and Mattheo, slightly roughdom!Enzo, oral (f! and m!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), fem reader, Eiffel tower moment, voyeyrism, masturbation, mentions of weed, smoking weed, mentions of alcohol, drinking alcohol, mentions of Theo cheating, Mattheo talks about beating someone up (not graphic), language, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HEAVEN AND BACK - Chase Atlantic

***Can be read as a standalone, but I’d recommend you read Pt. 1 to have the full story! Read it here.

- - -

You hadn’t learned your lesson. That much was painfully clear.

After weeks of little to no issue from Theo, you’d rounded the corner on the way to class to see him—arm raised flirtatiously, with his nose almost pressed against some random girl’s. The way she giggled in response to whatever he said led you to believe that he was talking some smooth shit.

You could still feel the way your cheeks flushed with heat like a fire. Your fingers had gripped so tightly around your books that your fingernails had pushed back against their leather bindings. Blood had pricked at the edge of your cuticles.

How many times were you going to let him treat you this way? Pansy’s question flashed through your head. Obviously, too fucking many.

You set your books down on one of the stone benches that lined the hallways and stomped right over to Theo and that stupid girl. You shoved him away from her, childishly knocked his books from his hands, and slapped him across the face as hard as you could manage.

A collective gasp spread around you like wildfire, silencing the mindless chatter almost instantly. Your breath heaved ferociously.

“See if I ever try to make this work again, Theodore Nott!” You shouted. With one last huff, you turned, gathered your books, and pushed your way back down the hallways to your dorm.

By the time Pansy found you, your sheets were already soaked through with salty tears that slipped onto your tongue every once in a while. Your lips were reddened and swollen, as were your cheeks. You probably looked like you’d been hit by a train.

“Oh, honey,” she sighed, collapsing against the bed beside you. This time, she didn’t try to hold you or talk you through it. She just rubbed your back and listened to your quiet sobs. She must have heard what happened earlier. There was nothing that happened in Hogwarts that Pansy Parkinson didn’t know about.

“I finally did it,” you gasped. “I finally ended it. Theo pushed me too far. How many times did I beg him to stop acting that way? I mean, even if he wasn’t seriously flirting—he upset me, so why couldn’t he fix it?”

“I know,” Pansy sighed. “It sucks, but I’m glad you stood up for yourself.”

“Me too,” you sniffled, turning your head to look at her. At this point, you just wanted to change into your pajamas and drink a couple of gallons of Firewhisky with her.

She turned and leaned over the bed, reaching past the mattress for her bag. When she got ahold of the strap, she lifted it and set it on the sheets. She pushed it toward you.

“I figured you’d need a pick-me-up by now,” she shrugged.

You rummaged through the bag before producing one large bottle of Firewhisky and a box of chocolates. It was as if she’d read your mind. You smiled in relief.

“Only if you enjoy them with me,” you said. She smiled in return, preparing to pop the cork off of the bottle.

***

If you could have gone back and time and punched yourself in the jaw, you would. It seemed that, lately, you’d had a habit of doing things in the heat of the moment—whether that heat was actual passion or the influence of alcohol, it didn’t matter.

Because at this very moment, exactly two hours after you finished off the bottle of Firewhisky with Pansy, you found yourself parked outside of Theo’s dormitory.

Your hand was poised, prepared to knock. Embarrassingly, you’d been standing like this for at least a couple of minutes, debating whether or not you should actually do it. You were definitely one to handle your liquor, but, you had to admit, you were tipsy.

A pleasant warmth was spread throughout your chest, making all of the lights feel just a bit softer and all of your thoughts just a bit bolder. The effect that searing drink had on your confidence was always one of immense power.

Finally, you swallowed what pride and sobriety was still cooped up in your head and knocked on the door.

A few moments passed—enough so that you had almost turned to leave, retreat to your dorm, and lick your wounds with another bottle of Firewhisky. But, just as you decided to ramp up for your walk of shame, you heard footsteps, a thunk, then the door swung open.

On the other side, leaning comfortably against the door like he owned the place—which he sort of did—was Enzo Berkshire.

“Well, hi there!” He smiled cheerfully, eyes tracing quite conspicuously down the length of your body. You could see every ticking movement they made as they halted and started over every curve on your figure. Your cheeks burned. “Have you come to talk to Theo? Because he’s not here.”

Your face deflated like a sad balloon.

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll try to catch him later. I’m sorry to—”

“Why don’t you hang out with us until he gets back?” he interrupted, eyebrows flying up innocently.

“Who’s ‘us?’” you chuckled nervously, wringing your hands before your legs.

He pushed the door open farther and stepped out of the way to reveal Mattheo Riddle leaned up against his pillow—one hand thrown so nonchalantly behind his head and the other nursing a half-burnt cigarette against his lips. He was undeniably one of the most gorgeous boys you’d ever seen. The only other competitors in the lineup were your stupid ex and Enzo—who just so happened to be his roommates. It’s like they put all of the tens into a bowl, shook it up with no other options included, and drew them to be dorm mates. It was fucking irritating.

But, besides that whole fiasco with you fake-flirting with Enzo and Mattheo a couple of weeks ago, they were still your friends. You had gotten to know them quite well alongside your relationship with Theo. They were great, funny guys. They just also happened to be devastatingly good-looking.

“Er, sure,” you finally said, nodding your head politely. “You sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Not at all—we’re just having a smoke. Join us?” Enzo cocked his head towards the other boy farther into the room.

“Sounds great. What exactly are you smoking?” you joked, allowing Enzo to lead you across the threshold and into their dorm.

No matter how many times you were in this room, you could never quite get used to the overwhelming ocean of cologne that ripped through the stone bricks. It was overwhelming, but at least it was a good kind of overwhelming.

Enzo pushed the door shut behind you and locked it back. You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, waiting awkwardly on him. Mattheo’s eyes were burning through you from the corner, but you chose not to look over at him quite yet.

“Make yourself comfortable—you’ve been here a million times.” Enzo placed a large hand gently on the small of your back and led you toward Mattheo’s bed.

Besides the boy, there was also a multitude of objects strewn across the duvet. A couple of snack bags, a few cans of soda, a packet of cigarettes, three or four lighters—all depicting women of varying modesty—and a large wooden box with a collapsible lid that Enzo called his “rolling box.” It didn’t take a genius to deduce the contents within.

In fact, upon closer inspection, Mattheo wasn’t smoking a cigarette at all. Stuck gently between his fingers was a neatly-wrapped bundle of herbs that blossomed out the end, creating a yellowish-tinted haze about his head. You inhaled, the familiar scent clouding your lungs.

How bad was it to drink and smoke weed at the same time again? You couldn’t remember. Without truly considering the consequences of the actions you were one hundred percent about to perform, you let Enzo sit you down on the bed beside him. Your back was pressed against the oaken footboard and your legs were crossed tightly against your body. Enzo threw an arm behind you on the footboard just like he'd done a million times before, but only this time, it felt different.

Whether it was the alcohol buzzing through your veins or the smoke that just filled your lungs through the joint Mattheo had leaned forward to place against your lips, you weren’t sure.

You inhaled deeply on the small thing, Mattheo’s fingers brushing your lips ever so slightly. His eyes watched you intently while his mouth parted slightly. You stared at the beautiful boy as he held the it still for you.

Had they always been so affectionate and patient with you? Of course, they had. That's why you got along with them even when Theo wasn't around. You were pretty sure, anyway.

Almost immediately after blowing the yellowed smoke into the air, your vision started to haze over. Enzo had always had access to strong weed in general, but being a wizard came in handy, especially when there was a tincture he could brew to increase the potency of the already bold herbs.

Mattheo smirked as he watched the substance seep into your brain. He leaned back against the headboard and watched through lidded eyes. You could see the redness already blooming around them, you figured you weren't far behind.

Enzo shut his rolling box with a tight slam and placed a new joint between his lips. His fingers gathered a yellow lighter from the bed and snapped it a few times, slowly producing a flame.

With his free hand, he protected the light as he lit up. His jawline accentuated perfectly as it jutted forward to hold the blunt still over the fire.

The tension in the air stirred around like a heady blanket. Between all of the different things swirling in your system and the natural hormones firing off inside of you, you were just about ready to grab Mattheo and kiss him as hard as you could.

You'd had a thing for him since you met Theo and Enzo—Theo had just snatched you up quicker. But your relationship with Theo had only slightly dampened your desire for the dark boy. Perhaps that made you as bad as Theo. The main difference was that you would never have actively pursued Mattheo while still in the relationship. Except for the one time you were trying to prove a point. Even then, it was faked. Mostly.

But now, you were no longer in a relationship. You had free run of the boys of this school, though there was only one you truly had your eye on. And he was smiling lazily at you through the smoke, lighting a fire underneath your abdomen.

Though you'd only taken a single puff of the herb, you were already feeling the effects pretty excessively. Mattheo and Enzo however continued to take multiple drags, building up their high. They'd obviously done this much more often than you.

“How often do you guys smoke?” you asked stupidly, trying to make conversation.

“As often as we can,” Enzo chuckled, leaning his head back against one of the footposts. His eyes closed comfortably and his throat jerked with his laughs. You'd love to just take a bite out of him.

You shook that thought away and turned back to Mattheo. “Could I have another?” you asked, gesturing lazily.

“Anything for you, mama,” he whispered.

He leaned forward just as he had before. This time, he placed his free hand beneath your chin and tilted your face up slightly. Your eyes met his with a hard intensity. Balancing the blunt against his thumb and forefinger, he placed the end of it between your lips.

You inhaled again, feeling the buzz light up your head. When he pulled it away from you this time, he placed it directly into his mouth and traced a stray drop of saliva off of your bottom lip with his thumb. His fingers still cupped your jaw.

Liquid confidence overtook your body and you darted your tongue out to caress along the pad of his thumb. His signature crooked smile cracked across his lips. At the split of your mouth, he pushed his thumb in and pressed down on your tongue.

Muscle memory from Theo kicked in. That, mixed with the fuzziness in your mind, had your lips closing around his finger and sucking. Your eyes held contact with Mattheo’s.

He clicked his tongue and smirked. “There it is,” he whispered. “Good girl.”

“You called that,” Enzo said. Your lips released Mattheo’s thumb.

“Called what?” you asked.

“That you’d listen so well,” Mattheo answered. “I knew from the minute you started going steady with Theo. You were always so obedient and loyal to him.”

“I wasn't—” you started.

“You were, baby, but that's okay,” Mattheo cooed, fingers tracing your jawline. He placed the blunt between his lips one more time, took a deep inhale from it, before reaching across the bed to sit it down on the ashtray in the corner.

Enzo appeared behind you suddenly, your back nearly pressed against his chest. You gasped slightly as his hand came forward to gently brush your hair behind your ear.

“It’s more than okay—girls who are obedient are rewarded.”

As if testing the waters, he pressed a gentle kiss to the connection between your neck and shoulder. You softly whined at the sensation, not having expected it.

Then, Mattheo was reciprocating the action on the other side of your neck. Both boys graduated from light kisses to hot, open-mouthed ones that sent chills throughout your body. You shuddered.

“Wait,” you whispered.

Immediately, they both pulled away and looked at you, eyes widened and waiting.

“Am I meant to take both of you?” you asked shyly, nearly giggling in the middle of the question.

“Only if you want to,” Enzo shrugged, moving out from behind you to garner a discussion. “We can each do something different.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” Mattheo whispered, moving back toward you. He placed a slow trail of kisses from your shoulder to your jawline, where he paused and spoke directly into your ear. “Though, I know Enzo has been dreaming of your mouth.”

You pulled away and looked at him. “And you?” you whispered.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly.

“What have you been dreaming of?” you ask. His eyes flickered down to your lips then back up again.

“Let me show you.”

He pressed his lips to yours suddenly, muffling a gasp of surprise on impact. His hands slipped along your jaw and curled into your hair. You sighed against him as he leaned you backward.

He caged your body in against the bed. There was no escape from him—everything around you was simply Mattheo. His scent, his taste, the aggressive outpour of his sweetened breath as his hands began to slide down your body.

Sneakily, his knee separated your legs at the thighs and began to claim its position there a bit more astutely. Just as he was about to make contact with your core, just beneath your skirt, Enzo interrupted.

“Don’t be greedy,” he demanded, shoving himself into the space Mattheo had been in.

He hovered over you, overlooking your face with pupils blown absurdly wide.

“Have you been planning this?” you chuckle.

“In my fantasies, Mattheo usually wasn’t present. It was just me and you.”

“What were we doing?” you tease.

He leaned down and licked a stripe from the base of your neck to the shell of your ear. You shuddered at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed. “I was helping you forget all about Theo, baby.”

“Shut up,” Mattheo groaned, shoving Enzo’s shoulder roughly. Enzo giggled in response before placing his lips against yours.

His kiss was worlds different from Mattheo’s and even more from Theo’s. Still, it almost wasn’t comparable. Enzo was bold and dominating in his body language and the way he acted in any social situation, and it was clear that he was a similar type of lover. At least, that’s what you’d gathered so far.

Your hands curled into his hair, tugging gently at the chestnut strands. His tongue slid against your bottom lip, forcing its way into your mouth. He tasted like butterscotch. It seemed as though you recalled a jar of sweets somewhere on the bed when you walked in.

Mattheo’s fingers suddenly sank through your hair to your scalp. He massaged them along your skin, sending shivers down your body.

“What was that about being greedy, En?” Mattheo said. Enzo pulled away with a growl and glared up at the dark boy. Your lips were already swollen and mourning the loss of his warmth.

You looked up. Mattheo hovered over you, eyes gliding down the rest of your body. It seemed that, no matter how confident the boys were, they couldn’t quite find it in them to tear into you. As nervous as you were, their obvious nerves seemed to spur you on just a bit. With butterflies swarming your stomach, you made a decision on what the next move would be.

“So, when were you planning on starting?” you laughed. Neither of them said anything. You rolled your eyes and reached your fingers down to place against your buttons.

Enzo stifled a gasp and you began slipping each one through its eyelet. Once the pieces of fabric were completely split, you pulled them apart, revealing your body to the two boys. Nerves pounded in your chest.

The both of them stared for what seemed like hours, before Mattheo leaned down to press his lips to yours once more and Enzo began sucking rough bruises across your stomach. The two of them slowly worked the nerves out of your system like a knot in a muscle.

You rolled and turned over, facing Mattheo head-on but refusing to separate your lips. At the change in position, Enzo leaned back briefly onto his knees. He helped you pull the uniform shirt down your arms, while Mattheo’s tongue split you apart.

Enzo’s hands softly glided down your back, tracing the shape of your curves with the tips of his fingers. They moved lower and lower until they reached the waistband of your skirt.

You could feel him linger for only a second when his warm fingers pursed against the zipper and began to pull it down. A sigh left you as the zipper hit its base and loosened the material just enough to slip it down your thighs.

Enzo’s hands wrapped around your hips and pulled you back onto all fours. Mattheo’s head craned to continue to press his lips to yours. His kiss was hungry and demanding, like you were sustenance he craved. His fingers cradled your jaw, keeping your head pinned upwards.

“Matty,” Enzo groaned. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” His thumb slowly traced down your slit through your underwear. Your back arched against him, heat blossoming within your core. You moaned against Mattheo’s lips.

Finally, Mattheo’s fingers gently pressed to your chin and he pulled away from you. He wished you could see how beautiful you already looked—with your cheeks red, eyes lidded, and lips swollen with his saliva.

“You want her mouth?” he asked, looking above you. His hand was holding your jaw, lovingly stroking along your cheek. Your forehead pressed against his abdomen. His free hand moved to your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp.

You felt so submissive beneath the two of them, almost reminiscent of that of a pet. You couldn’t believe how willing you were to do whatever these boys asked of you.

As they conversed above you, you thought of nothing regarding Theodore Nott. The only thing flying through your mind was Mattheo’s hands in your hair and Enzo’s fingers massaging your hips. You waited silently as they decided how to fuck you. Merlin, you were pathetic.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Mattheo whispered, tilting your head up to look at him. “I’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna suck Enzo off, okay? Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, eyes stuck on his. He smiled softly—the warmest expression you’d ever seen printed on his face. As soon as Mattheo had gotten a taste of your skin, something changed in him. He was softer, gentler.

Enzo kissed a slow line up your naked spine. “Ready for us, baby?”

You nodded once more and, at that, they began to rearrange their positions. Mattheo pushed to the back of you whilst Enzo replaced his spot just before you. His hands replaced the other’s, caressing slightly calloused strokes across your cheek.

His thumb travelled down your lips, spreading them slightly in the meantime. When he pushed through your teeth a little bit and towards the back of your throat, he didn’t miss the small gag you stifled. The pad of his thumb traced a line from the back of your tongue to the tip, before placing it on your lips again. He smiled roughly, all sharp canines and snickering laughter.

Behind you, Mattheo’s hands mimicked Enzo’s previous movements. He traced your hips and the curvature of your ass, massaging the muscle and acquainting your body with his touch. Subconsciously, you leaned toward him, bumping gently against his core. You could feel his hardened length brush against you. He sucked in a small breath through his teeth at the sensation.

It was already nearing an impossibility for you to breathe just as they teased—you were almost frightened for the effect they would have on you whilst actually fucking you. You swallowed thickly.

“Ready, baby?” Enzo whispered, placing a gentle slap to your cheek. You nodded pathetically, desperate to get a taste of them in any way.

His hands fell to the tie around his waist that fastened at the top of his pants. He wore graying checkered pajama bottoms that framed his growing length so perfectly. He looked to be about average length but he seemed way thicker than anyone you’d ever had before. The thought of him working his way down your throat made you nervous.

His pants dropped and his briefs were soon to follow. His length sprung free and pressed against his abdomen. He groaned at the relief of pressure and pressed his hand against himself, rolling the skin about gently.

There was a moment of silence when he pushed down on himself to allow the tip to brush against your lips that Mattheo also slid your panties down your legs. The cool air slammed against your heat like a wave.

As you moaned at the sensation, Enzo took the opportunity to push himself into your mouth. Your next sounds were muffled.

Not a millisecond after Enzo had bottomed out halfway down your throat, Mattheo pushed himself into you from behind. You yelped and subconsciously moved away from the sudden intrusion, only to shove Enzo further down your throat. You gagged around him as your nose brushed his abdomen. He moaned aloud and curled his hands in your hair.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. I can’t believe Theo’d ever let go of this perfect fucking mouth.”

Mattheo began to build a slow, deliberate pace. He was so much gentler than you’d ever imagined. The reputation he had managed to obtain was one of a rough lover who didn’t kiss and only fucked from the back, but rumors didn’t always carry truth. It seemed that care punctuated each of his thrusts into you.

You moaned against Enzo as Mattheo hit every spot Theo never could. The vibrations from your throat caressed the boy before you in a way he’d never felt before. He gasped at the sensation, fucking his hips against your face desperately.

His complete disregard for the integrity of your throat led you to push farther back against Mattheo, forcing him farther inside you as well. It was a deadly cycle.

The consistent thrusts you were getting from both ends were almost enough to prevent you from hearing the loud crack that echoed through the room. Almost. Your eyes opened and glanced to the side to see Theo standing against the door.

He must have Disapparated into the room. Perhaps he’d been knocking and the three of you just hadn’t heard. Though, through the rushing of blood in your ears, it was a surprise you could hear anything at all.

Still, you saw him and he saw you—being torn apart from the inside out by his two best friends. You could hardly move your body, let alone try to alert the two of them that you had an audience. They had clearly not heard him, as they both continued their previous paces.

Theo watched—eyes widened, mouth agape—as your eyes began to roll to the back of your head. Mattheo worked you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Your eyes peeked at him, tears pricking the corners, to see something wildly different than you expected. You had been sure you were going to open your eyes to Theo storming forward, ready to beat the shit out of both of his friends.

That is not what you saw.

Theo’s uniform trousers were unbuckled and split apart, revealing the edge of his briefs that had been tugged downward. His cock was pulled from its confines and clutched tightly in his fist. He pumped it rapidly as he watched the three of you. The sight itself was enough for you.

You cried aloud as your finish washed over you in a giant wave. The clenching of your lips and the vibrations from your throat pushed Enzo over the edge.

“Fuck, perfect girl,” he groaned to the air. His head tilted back, golden earring glinting in the candlelight that cloaked your bodies.

Mattheo worked you through every second of your orgasm, which worked Enzo through every second of his.

Once the boy in front had completely released his spend down your throat, he pulled himself from your mouth. You let him go with a gasp—thick strings of saliva stretched between your lips and his body.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, cupping your jaw possessively.

Before you could manage to wipe the spit from your flushed cheeks or warn the boys that your ex was in the corner jacking off to your current escapades, Mattheo quickly flipped you over onto your back.

You squealed at the motion, having not been at all prepared. He immediately caged your body in, hovering over top of you with a snide smirk on his lips.

“Can I have you all to myself for a minute?” he whispered against your ear, placing a gentle kiss to your earlobe. You giggled at the sensation, chills being spread down your arm.

“Whatever, man,” Enzo said. “I’m gonna light up again.” He leaned back against the head of the bed and grabbed the abandoned blunt that was placed carefully on the ashtray in the corner.

Having almost completely forgotten about Theo—between the drug in your system and the boy on top of you—you wrapped your legs around Mattheo’s waist and tugged him in closer to you. Slowly, he reentered you with a soft groan. The sensitivity below pushed a whine from you.

He placed a soft kiss to your cheek. One hand grasped onto your thigh as he fucked himself into you. His nose hovered just above yours as he watched your every reaction to his movements.

With every gasp and moan you let slip out, he’d mimic your sounds softly, but not in a mocking way—more like in an agreement.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he groaned. His pace was steady and unyielding. It was agonizing even, almost as if he intended on driving your pleasure out as long as possible.

“Do you know what it felt like watching Theo touch you every day? Watching him kiss you? Watching you sit in his lap?” he growled lowly, his nose brushing along yours with each thrust. You moaned at his words.

“That day you came up to me in the Great Hall…when you called me Matty…oh,” he groaned, crooked smile showing off his canines. “I knew I had to have you. Whether I had to wait a few days or months, I was going to have you.”

“Ugh, wrap it up,” Enzo said, holding his hand against his forehead, lit joint resting beneath his fingers.

You giggled just a bit at the stupid boy, before coming back to your senses a bit. Was Theo still in the corner?

Mattheo’s paced picked up a bit. Your head craned to look behind you. Enzo blew smoke toward the air. Your eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness in the corner where Theo had stood. Mattheo was hitting every spot you needed.

“Bite her neck while you fuck her.”

All three of you seemed to gasp. You paused and looked over, finally locating the looming boy.

“Shit!” Mattheo pulled out and scrambled to cover the both of you. Enzo tugged his briefs back up. You sat and stared, waiting for his next words.

“I don’t know why you’re all freaking out now,” Theo chuckled. “She saw me a good, long while ago. She knew I was watching.”

Mattheo and Enzo both looked over to you. You felt absurdly small beneath their huge gazes, like a little kid getting a slap on the wrist.

“I didn’t really mean to not say anything—I did try, I just tend to…forget things when I’m high.”

“And when you’ve got two dicks in you—ayo!” Enzo said, putting his hand up as if waiting for a high five from Mattheo.

The three of you stared at him in disbelief. At the realization that nobody was going to high five him, he shrugged and returned the blunt to his mouth.

“Yeah, well, did you enjoy the fucking show, you perv?” Mattheo scoffed, keeping the sheets pulled tight over you and him.

“What, you guys can have a threesome with my ex-girlfriend, but I don’t get invited?” he asked.

“Um, I think the important word in that sentence is ‘ex,’” Enzo piped up once again. You rolled your eyes and pressed your hands to your face. This had to be a nightmare.

“Ex or not, I still know what she likes,” Theo explained. “Now, if you want to make her cum quickly, you should bite her neck. Trust me.”

“Do you want me to ask him to leave?” Mattheo asked you, nuzzling his nose gently against the side of your head.

“No,” you said decidedly. You turned to Theo. “But, if you’re going to be here, you’re going to join.”

“What?” Mattheo and Enzo both echoed.

“I think it’s only fair,” you said. “Plus, it was you that suggested we have a foursome.” You pointed at Enzo. He shrugged and nodded as he recalled his previous discussion on the matter.

“I say, if everyone’s okay with it, he should join. Because if he tries to tell anyone, he’d have to mention he was a part of it. Or we could just tell them. He won’t tell anyone if he could criminalize himself.”

Theo’s eyebrows raised slightly. You didn’t want to admit that, after everything, you still missed his body and the familiarity he had with yours. But it was true. He wouldn’t tell anyone if he was a part of it. Granted, he likely wouldn’t have said anything anyway. Despite the end of your relationship, he still seemed to care about you. And you cared about him.

Mattheo and Enzo stared at each other, seeming to weigh their options. There was a moment of silence before they agreed. They nodded their heads.

You turned back to Theo. He approached slowly, eyes trained on you. Your stomach seemed to float within your abdomen as you recognized the look in his eyes.

No matter how many times he fucked you over in your relationship, he still knew his way around your body. He stopped before you. His fingers slowly lifted to cradle your jaw and tilt your face upward. His thumb slowly caressed over your bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. You shuddered beneath his touch.

It wasn’t long before nearly everyone fell back into the previous headspace. Enzo came up behind you once more and began pressing loving kisses against your neck. Theo kneeled before you and watched your eyes closely.

He gently moved the blanket covering your naked body away, just slowly enough so you could stop him if you needed to. His head dipped slowly between your newly exposed thighs, his hot breath lingering so closely to your core.

“Theo,” you whispered in a kind of warning. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Mattheo watching the boy with an iron stare.

After what Theo did to you, you’d briefly spoken to Mattheo about it. It was only a small conversation in which you were crying so hard you barely got the words out and Mattheo just listened and let you sob against him.

Mattheo was there for you when Theo had let you down. And the fact that Theo was preparing to pleasure you like he always had before had Mattheo’s jaw was clenched so tightly you thought it might snap.

When his lips made contact with you, you gasped aloud. Your head fell back against Enzo’s shoulder, his mouth still sucking bruises into your flesh. His hands clutched at your breasts, massaging them strongly. The combined sensations were enough to make you lose your words.

Distantly, you could hear Mattheo huff. When your eyes opened to check on him, you noticed that he was looking toward the ground with his hands hovering between his knees. Jealousy pulsed through his body.

You wondered why he’d not been jealous until Theo walked in. You’d made it clear that you’d only included him to protect all of you. The last thing you needed was rumors of the three of you fucking each other floating around the castle.

He hadn’t cared that Enzo was touching every bit of you, because he knew that you didn’t care for Enzo in that way. But the wound from Theo was still raw, and your care for him still lingered.

“Matty,” you moaned, reaching your hand out to place against his cheek. He turned to look at you, eyes flickering over the pleasure contorting your face.

Enzo still rolled your breasts in his hands and Theo devoured you like a man starved. You reckoned Mattheo didn’t see a use for himself, but you did.

Sliding your hand down, you gripped onto the thin metal chain around his neck and pulled him close to you. Your lips pressed against his just as they had earlier. Your fingers tangled in his dark curls, urging him closer against you.

He pulled away from you. “‘Don’t want him touching you.”

You stared into his eyes, watching the affection in them swirl with anger. Theo’s mouth continued against you. You could feel your heat building to a point. Enzo had begun to roll his hips against your back, thrusting his length against your ass. He moaned lightly against your neck.

“He’s just getting me ready for you,” you teased, watching the flare light up in his eyes. You giggled softly, pressing your lips back to his.

Mattheo’s hand wrapped gently around your throat, caressing his fingers around the side of your neck. Enzo’s fingers delicately tweaked each of your nipples. Theo’s mouth consumed you openly until he pressed two fingers inside of you.

Your back arched and a moan left you at the sudden intrusion. Mattheo’s tongue split you apart as Enzo worked himself closer to his finish. You could feel his desperation in the thrusts he pushed against you.

Between the three men and the individual pleasures they each dealt, you found yourself closer and closer to your release. It felt like your entire body had been dipped in fire and storms echoed overhead.

Blood rushed in your ears as your brain began to shut off. Your eyes rolled backward as electricity sparked within your abdomen.

“I’m gonna—” you started.

Just as you were about to fall over the edge of your orgasm, Theo’s lips and fingers stopped. He pulled away from you.

You whined disappointedly and separated your lips from Mattheo. “Why?” you cried, your release teetering on the precipice. Your legs shook at the denial.

“Thought you might need a bit more,” Theo shrugged. He nodded toward Mattheo, and got to his feet. Was he serious? Honestly, you were a bit pissed at the thought of him passing you off like a gauntlet, but at this point, you just wanted to cum. It didn't matter who did it.

Mattheo stood slowly, letting the blanket fall away from his lap, and allowed Theo to take his place beside you. The dark boy settled between your legs, keeping steely eye contact. Your cheeks burned.

He slipped his hands beneath your thighs and gently perched them around his hips. He leaned in against you and hovered before you.

“Is this alright?” he asked. You nodded desperately, so ready for your release you couldn't stand it.

Finally, he pressed in and sank within you all the way up to the hilt. You moaned aloud, hands clawing at his back. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Your left hand blindly reached for Theo’s waist. When the four of you had begun to discuss everything, he'd pushed himself back into his trousers. He seemed to get the message, however, and pulled himself from his waistband.

Your fingers wrapped around his length and began to pump as Mattheo worked your orgasm back to its peak.

“Matty, I'm—so close,” you moaned aloud.

“Me too,” Enzo groaned against your ear. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked himself against your back.

Your thumb swiped over the top of Theo’s cock a few times, building that sensitivity he was so vulnerable to. If the four of you came at the same time, you imagined the room would start floating or something like that. Theo groaned at the sensation.

Then, seemingly taking Theo’s advice, Mattheo leaned in as close as he could go on the opposite side of you as Enzo and began to pound into you harder. His canines closed around the softest part of your neck and sucked. The sensation sent jolts of lightning down your body. You gasped aloud and arched into him.

Like a train, your release hit you harder than ever and spread across Mattheo’s stomach. Your eyes whitened for a moment, rendering you blind to everything that was not him.

Before you, Mattheo released a choked groan against your jaw and came within you, mixing your spends in a hot storm. You whimpered at the feeling, your nails scraping against his flesh.

Theo groaned as your hand rolled over his tip for the last time before his release was spurting against your hand and the bedsheets.

And finally, behind you, Enzo had rutted himself against you enough that he came against your nude back. He moaned breathlessly against your ear, his fingers stuttering restlessly on your breasts.

Several minutes passed before any of you even attempted to move.

Theo had fallen to his side on the bed and was borderlining a sharp snore. He rested with his hands splayed out and his shirt still partially buttoned.

Enzo had laid back with his arms spread above his head and sweat glistening down his chest. Deep pants pushed from his body. The way he had leaned had caused you to fall back as well. Your head rested against his thigh.

Mattheo had collapsed on top of you, his breaths heavy and lips pressing soft kisses to your chest every now and then. Your fingers absentmindedly brushed along his hair.

The boy laid over you waited until gentle breaths came from Theo and Enzo to start talking. When he was sure they were both asleep, he turned his head and rested his chin against your chest. His eyes watched you.

“Are you angry with me for asking Theo to join?” you asked softly, fingers still tracing through his hair.

He shook his head. “No, mama, I'm not mad at you. I understand why you did it.”

His fingers reached up to trace along your arms and collarbone. Again, his gentleness came as a bit of a surprise to you.

“What I don't understand is how you could keep going back to him when he kept treating you like that,” he scoffed. You sighed, leaning your head back against Enzo’s thigh.

“I can't explain it. He made me feel…special. I never felt that way unless I was with him. It was like… I felt like the only girl in the world until I got proof that I wasn't. But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get that feeling from anyone else. So, it was to stay with Theo and feel on top of the world for a while, then occasionally get my heart broken. Or I could be in a relationship I didn't feel good in, and constantly think of him.” You sighed, embarrassed at how pathetic you sounded. You never wanted to rely on the boy, but your self-esteem had aligned itself with Theo’s loyalty.

“Hey,” Mattheo whispered. You glanced down at him. His eyes were trained on yours. “As many times as you've probably heard it, I would never do that to you. You are everything I have craved for months and for every time I shoved that dumbass against the wall and threatened to beat the shit out of him—”

“Wait? What?” you interrupted.

“What, you think I just sat by and let him act that way? I tried to beat some sense into him a thousand times over, but he just didn't listen. The fucker was persistent with his disloyalty, I’ll give him that.”

“You defended me?” you asked, laughing just a bit.

“Of course, I did. Even if I didn't have the hots for you, I can't stand that shit,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Finally, he rested his head back against your stomach and you swore you felt him smile against you. He seemed pleased that he'd finally admitted to all of those things.

And, though you'd just participated in a fucking foursome with some of your best friends and would quite literally never live it down, you felt pretty good where you currently rested.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74, @2dloveshp

[lovelivision]

LET'S SUMMON A DEMON.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 17k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when summoning a demon is successful, you suddenly find your life turned upside down. both you and the demon getting more than you bargained for in the other.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, mentions/depictions of reader being stalked, mentions/depictions of the supernatural, light blood warning, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, virgin!reader, choso probably ooc (demon)

This wasn’t a good idea hours ago and it’s certainly not a good idea now. Your friend rocked up earlier today, rambling about how she’s had a fantastic idea to summon a demon and bind it to do your bidding. Muttering something about needing revenge against one of her coworkers for always eating her lunch.

At the time, you had looked her square in the eyes and said, “You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” her eyes had sparkled and her mouth was curled up in an overly excited smile, “Don’t tell me you’re scared?” She was goading you and you knew it.

It’s fair to be scared though, you think anyways. You haven’t told her – or anyone for that matter – but you have a predilection towards the supernatural that you tend to keep to yourself. So, you very much believe and you very much were scared.

By the way she was talking about it, you could see she wasn’t completely serious, not believing that you’d actually successfully summon a demon. You however, well, you weren’t convinced it would work but only because you have no idea where she had gotten the summoning spell from, otherwise you one-hundred percent believe it’s possible to summon something otherworldly.

In the back of your mind, you thought it possible and if it was, you seriously doubt she’ll be able to contain the thing. So no, you did not summon a demon with her, at least… not at first. You had denied to, vehemently in fact, but the girl is good at one thing and it’s convincing you to follow through on horrible ideas.

She is the one common denominator in all your questionable actions and it doesn’t help that she’s obsessed with the occult and witchcraft and ghosts and just about every other ‘spooky’ thing you can think of. How many times did you see or feel something and have to pretend you didn’t? You lost count a long time ago.

Things are attracted to you, so you stay away, or at least you pretend you don’t see them, it makes your life easier. Telling her would just result in her curiosity piquing and possibly putting you at risk and you’re certainly not going to tell her of your ‘ability’ or unfortunate circumstance, not today… or ever.

Despite your better judgement and despite her history of having bad ideas, you’re sat across from each other on your living room floor. Floorboards marked with some kind of summoning circle drawn in a red paint pen she had brought with her. A little bowl is sitting in the centre of it, what looks like miscellaneous herbs and paper sitting in it.

“This is stupid,” you grumble at her, looking at all the candles she’s set up and lit, far too many in your opinion.

“Shush,” her tone is sharp, “I’m trying to focus,” she’s squinting down at the old looking book she has sat in her lap.

It’s actually really old looking, “Where did you get that?”

Groaning, she looks through her lashes at you, “Seriously, be quiet, do you want this to work or not?”

Tone dead when you immediately reply, “Not.”

“Sceptic,” she rolls her eyes.

Scoffing, you accuse, “You don’t even think it will work.”

“Ah, But I hope it will,” a smile is present on her lips again.

It’s quiet after that, unsettling so, but her sudden words are even more unsettling. Murmuring some kind of incantation, the words send a shiver down your spine, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

The lights in your apartment are off but they flicker on for a second before going back off, you don’t like this at all. You don’t think she feels it but you do, the air is charged and all your hairs are standing on end.

Her words don’t stop though, eyes focused on the words in front of her, the feeling inside you keeps increasing. Like it’s pitching higher and higher, it’s making you feel high-strung. When she reaches the end of the page, it all drops at once. The feeling completely gone from you, like she messed it up at the last second or like there’s more that needs to be done.

Your friends voice shocks you, “Man… the lights flicking on totally had me thinking it would work.” She sounds disappointed.

Trying to sound neutral, you hum at her, “You know it never does…”

She seems completely unaffected, probably not realising just how close she seemed to be to summoning something you probably shouldn’t mess around with. The fact it didn’t work is for the best.

“Whatever, you wanna watch a movie or something now?” She gets up easily, hands patting her thighs as she does.

Warily, you ask, “What kind?”

Shooting you an evil smile, she gleams, “The Exorcist.”

Grabbing a cushion off the couch beside you and chucking it at her, “Oh, fuck off.”

Catching it easily she laughs and tosses it back on the couch before helping you up off the floor. You do watch a movie together but it is not ‘The Exorcist’.

It’s late when she’s shuffling out your apartment door, you’d told her she was welcome to stay but she had said her parents were visiting early tomorrow and didn’t have faith in herself getting there before them if she stayed.

Of course, she didn’t clean up her mess, left everything behind. Almost everything, she remembered to take the book with her. Sighing to yourself, you wander over to the summoning circle. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and crouching down, you reach into the little bowl, wondering just what she had put in there.

Something sharp pricks at your finger and you hiss through your teeth, not expecting it. When you pull back, you’ve accidentally left drops of blood in the bowl and inside the circle itself, what the fuck did she put in there?

Looking at your finger, you can see the little amount you’re still bleeding. Cursing your friend internally, you’re about to get up when the lights in your apartment suddenly go out. All the candles that had long since been extinguished flick back on, that heavy feeling weighs in the air again and you want to run but you’re frozen to your spot.

A cold feeling runs down your spine and the room feels like it’s full of static electricity, your blood growing hot quickly. Your eyes shut for a moment and you hope whatever is happening stops soon, pretend you don’t see it, pretend you don’t see it, you chant to yourself. It’s always worked before; you pretend you can’t see anything and you get left alone.

Though that may not ring true when you’ve literally summoned whatever it is into your apartment of your – almost – own free will. When you open your eyes, it’s hard to see. All the candles having gone out, but a pair of black boots are stood in front of you. You’re still crouching down on your haunches, head tilted down, the boots are throwing you off… do demons wear boots?

Whatever it is, is stoic, unmoving, just standing in front of you and waiting. Attempting to be brave, you pry your eyes up, scaling its body and… it’s… a man? Well, appears to be anyway, it’s– he’s standing there, looking down at you, somewhat impatiently.

His expression doesn’t change, “Do all humans crouch on the floor for this long or are you unique in that aspect?”

You frown at that; you know when you think demon you expect them to be murderous and angry but not… verbally hostile. “I’m scared.”

He squints at you, “Stop it, it’s inconvenient to me.”

“Having a demon in my apartment is inconvenient to me,” you mumble.

His arms cross and he seems genuinely ticked off by your statement, “Oh? Maybe you shouldn’t have summoned me then.”

Finally, you gather yourself enough to shoot up off the floor, standing to your full height, which feels like a poor choice when you realise he still towers over you. It’s not just his height that’s intimidating though, mostly you think it’s just him, his essence, his aura? Energy? You don’t know but he’s what you were feeling, the overwhelming pressure that makes your blood hot.

“Hmm,” he leans forward slightly, getting a closer look at you, “You’re a bit interesting, aren’t you?”

You don’t know what exactly he’s seeing but you don’t like the implication, “No.”

“No?” He doesn’t understand why you’d deny it, to him, it’s fairly obvious that you are different than most humans of today’s age. He leans back out of your space but keeps his eyes trained on you, “So…”

You’re still frightened but he’s not done anything, he’s not moved his two feet from that same spot he first appeared in, “So what?”

Sighing, he groans, “What do you want?” When you don’t speak straight away, he adds, “My interest is fleeting, tell me what you want so I can leave.”

“What I want…?”

“Yes, that’s what the summon was for,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Why mess with things you don’t understand?”

Your voice is smaller than you want it to be throughout this whole interaction, “I didn’t mean to summon you…”

He looks down at the summoning circle and all the candles, all signs pointing towards yes, you did mean to summon him.

You rush to explain, albeit poorly, “Okay, I know how it may look like I meant to but I didn’t mean to.”

He raises a brow at you, “This is incredibly annoying; you know that right?”

As you look up at his unamused face, you feel your eyes burn with your question, “Are you going to kill me?”

He grimaces at you, “Kill you? Do you know about how any of this works?”

“Not really, no…” your eyes flick behind him for a second, “…I meant it when I said I didn’t mean to summon you.” As your eyes adjust to the dark, you can take in his appearance more. Dark hair and eyes, pale skin, you regretfully notice that he’s attractive. Though, that’s hardly surprising, wouldn’t you want to be appealing to the people you wish to trick?

His head tilts at you but he stays quiet, he’s hoping you will offer the information yourself, asking you things has been woefully unhelpful so far. Only serving to make you more anxious and confused about what’s happened.

The silence is becoming unbearable to you. It’s the way he’s just staring at you, like he’s interrogating you with his gaze, “My friend wanted to summon you… not me.” You don’t know how much you should tell him.

He clicks his tongue, “So, why am I bound to you and not your friend?”

Bound? He’s bound to you, oh this cannot bode well, “I don’t know?”

Scratching at the back of his neck, his tone is tense, “Just tell me how the summoning happened. What did you do?”

Your hands lift in defence, “Not much at all, honest.”

For the first time since he appeared here, he moves and grabs your wrist, his hand pulling yours close. He inspects your finger, the one with the nick on it, “You bled.”

It’s scary, you’re scared, he’s fast and strong and now you know he can move and was just choosing not to, “Only a little bit… not on purpose.”

Dropping your hand again, he moves back, giving you space, “But you did.”

“Yeah.”

Frowning, he explains, “You’re the one who bled so now I’m bound to you, not your little friend.”

You nod as if this is all common sense, as if summoning a demon is so natural to you, “Oh… I see, okay, well… can you stop… being bound… to me?”

“In short? No.”

You guffaw at him, “What?”

He scrunches his brows, “Did your friend not bother explaining any of it to you?”

“Obviously not,” your answer was unintentionally sharp and you feel bad, since he’s been, well not kind but he’s not hurt you, “Sorry, no… she didn’t… How exactly does it work?”

“The way this particular binding works is – you summon and bind me with blood, which you have done,” he looks down at your pricked finger, “Then, I can’t leave until you ask a favour of me. After I have completed it, I can leave but I will still be bound to you and when you call my name, I’ll be summoned back and I can’t leave until you ask a new favour of me.” His frown settles deep on his features, “Essentially, girl, you have bound me to you forever.”

You’re wide eyed and surprised, who knew binding spells were so… permanent? “Oh… that’s… not nice, sorry…” You purse your lips, “Is there not… a spell to counteract it?”

“No,” he looks down his nose at you, features resetting back to neutral, “You shouldn’t have been able to summon me in the first place, I thought I got rid of all your human books that contained the information.”

Your brain gets a little stuck on ‘human books’, the implication of ‘demon books’ interesting to you and also amusing. He seems very forthcoming but you’re still cautious, “Why tell me all this? Would it not be easier to use underhanded trickery and get me to ask for a menial favour and leave without telling me your name?”

His gaze sharpens at you, “A ‘favour’ has to be specified, I don’t follow your every whim. You have to specify that the favour you’re asking for is the one I am required to follow through on.”

It’s awfully particular, it feels like whoever figured out how to bind him was very careful about how to do so in a way that would benefit them most, “Okay… you know it’s not lost on me that you’ve not mentioned your name.”

“Names have power to demons,” his brow twitches, like he’s annoyed that you’d noticed that, “You’ve not mentioned your name either.”

“You’ve not asked for it,” you shrug, “Human names don’t hold that much significance though.” Not as much as demons, considering you can literally summon him with his.

“You’re not going to give me your name?” He’s taken aback by your unwillingness.

Shaking your head, you say, “Not until you give me yours.”

His brow raises at you, interested, “My name will mean you can summon me freely.”

“I suppose so but I don’t really have any intention of using it like that,” you’re not lying, you don’t even intend on asking a favour, you mean, what the hell are you meant to do with a blood bound demon?

Your only intent is uncovering more information, he’s giving you answers and telling you things freely but he’s also keeping things from you, specific information. You’re not dumb, you’re not going to trust some demon just because he – presently – doesn’t seem to want to bring you any harm.

He challenges, “Ask a favour so I can leave then.”

You’re blunt and straight to the point, “I don’t want any favours from you.” He looks completely annoyed by your answer and you can understand why, “…You’re not going to kill me are you?”

He grits his teeth, “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” You find that unlikely to be the truth.

He speaks slowly, “I am capable of doing so but I can’t.”

“So, which is it? Can or can’t?”

“I can but I won’t,” he rolls his shoulders.

“Why not?”

“You have a lot of questions,” he’s growing tired of answering them, “The bind means I can’t harm you.”

Thinking on it for a second, you consider how to ask your next question, “What about the bind makes it so you could theoretically harm or kill me but also means you can’t?”

He sighs like he doesn’t really want to answer you, “We are bound. If you die I die–”

“–So why use the word harm?”

He stops, “What?”

“You said harm not kill,” it’s an interesting distinction, “Do you also take on whatever injury I may get?”

His eyes are intense, paying close attention to you, “Anything other than something of your own doing or natural occurrences I will be aware of… though, I imagine I probably won’t feel it as much as you would.” He cracks his neck, “I could torture you into asking a favour but it would hurt me too, though again, not as much as it would you.”

You’re trying to sort through everything he’s said when he interrupts your thoughts, “You’re getting very caught up on if I’m going to do something to you, if it matters, I wouldn’t want to even if I could.”

That gives you pause, “Why tell me that?”

He waves you off, “You’re very stiff, it’s uncomfortable to look at.”

He answers properly when you ask him things directly… you don’t know if he’s choosing to or if he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Everything you know about demons are the things that everyone knows, or the things your friend has told you but you don’t exactly trust her sources. In either case you’re unsure if you can even trust any of his answers so far.

Even though you won’t believe his answer fully, you ask anyway, “Have you lied at all?”

Shrugging, he says, “Not so far,” and then he gives you the same question, “Have you?”

“Not intentionally.”

He hums at you, intrigued by your answer.

Against your better judgement, or will really, you’re beginning to relax slightly. His presence is overwhelming but after sitting in it for a bit, it’s not… off putting. It’s not a feeling you’re completely unfamiliar with, the little shadows that follow you have the same static feeling to them, just lesser. You hadn’t ever really considered what they were but you’re wondering now.

“The bind… is very inconvenient to you,” you’re simply making an observation, if he’s been telling the truth – which you’re still not sure on – this situation is incredibly beneficial for whoever binds him and incredibly annoying to him.

“It wasn’t made to be convenient for me, it was made for the express purpose of aiding the person who binds me.”

“…Right…” tilting your head, you look him over a bit more carefully, “…Is that why it’s so extensive?”

Either he wasn’t listening or he’s confused on why you pointed it out, “What?”

“Well, I’ve just noticed there are a lot of rules that make it harder for you to have your freedom after the summoning… so either you’re lying to lure me into a false sense of security or whoever made the rules really didn’t want you to have an easy way out,” you’re getting tired of standing here like this.

He notes, “You really don’t trust me.”

It feels a little silly for him to point that out when he’s a complete stranger and also a demon, so yeah, excuse you for being a little sceptical on whether he’s trustworthy or not.

Instead of being rude, you ask, “Do you trust me?”

He eyes you over, like he’s sizing you up, “Humans are supposed to be incredibly stupid.”

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly, “Ah, we are.”

He makes a sound like he was about to laugh before coughing to cover it, “You’re perceptive, is what I was trying to say.”

“I suppose I have more reason than most to be cautious but I’m no smarter than the average person,” you shrug.

Clicking his tongue, he changes the topic, “Since you’re coming to understand, ask your favour, I’d like to leave.”

“I told you I don’t want one,” you don’t mean to be rude but it sounds a little harsh when you repeat your earlier sentiments.

He scowls slightly, “I can’t leave if you don’t ask one.”

You counter him, “I don’t even know what I would ask for.”

“Then ask for something mundane,” he’s getting impatient now, tone curt.

“I’m really sorry, demon man, but I still don’t trust you and I’m not even sure there won’t be any pitfalls to asking you for a favour.” There is always a catch.

His scowl deepens at how you refer to him, apparently not liking it, “Usually you would be right but these are different circumstances.”

The lights finally flicker back on and you squint against the sudden change, it wasn’t even all that light in your apartment in the first place but after sitting in the dark for so long, your few lamps feel like you’ve been flash banged.

Huffing, you turn and walk towards your kitchen, turning your back on him might be dumb but it’s also a way to test his word. If he tries anything, then at the very least, you can die knowing you were right.

His steps trail behind you, ignoring him, you continue your walk to the kitchen. Passing your breakfast bar, there is a little creature sitting on top of it and you falter almost imperceptibly. Recovering, you do as you always do and pretend you don’t notice it. They don’t frequently enter your apartment; you’ve never really been sure on why but it’s presence inside took you off guard because of it.

It's mostly shapeless, dark shadows, sometimes they’re rounder, thinner, spikier, they come in all shapes and sizes and sometimes they’re almost cute but they’re a nuisance. When you acknowledge them, they attach to you and cause trouble. Hence, your avoidance of them, it’s almost like acknowledging them gives them power. A fact you learnt the hard way.

Behind you, the demon make a noise of interest, one that irks you, “What?” You question.

“You saw it,” he states.

Turning, you face him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He only raises a brow at you.

The creatures shape is twitching, reacting to the demon in front of it, not seeming all that fond of him. He reaches his hand out and flicks at it, the shape disintegrating, gone after he’d put his hand through it.

After touching it, he shakes his hand slightly before tucking his arms crossed over his chest, “Why lie?”

Your brows pinch together, he’s caught you in your lie and you’re wondering if it really will do any good in continuing with it. For the first time in your life, you admit to being able to see them, “It’s easier to pretend I can’t see them…”

He sighs, exasperated, like his situation has somehow gotten so much more annoying, “Ignoring them won’t work forever.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” you’ve been fine this long.

Moving to the sink, you wash your hands, wanting to clean the blood off your pricked finger. While wiping your hands dry, you jump when turning and seeing him right in front of you, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, geez,” your heart is hammering in your chest, he’s really quiet.

Ignoring you, he says, “Being bound to you just became even more bothersome so I’m going to tell you some things I left out.”

“I still don’t trust you.” Again, literal demon in front of you.

His face is incredibly serious, tone grim, “You don’t have much of a choice.”

For the first time tonight, you feel more inclined to listen to and believe what he’s saying. It’s not like he’s been light-hearted all night but he’s not been nearly as stern as he was just now. So, you nod at him, asking him wordlessly to continue.

“I can’t lie to you when asked a direct question, I wasn’t going to tell you because it benefit me more if you didn’t know but continuing without your trust is going to be annoying. I don’t need you thinking in the back of your mind that I’m going to kill you.”

He’s standing a little too close to you now, it’s setting you on edge, “Why do you need my trust?”

“You, are a target, those things follow you because of your energy. In short, you have a lot of it and they want it.” He squints at you accusatorily, like it’s your fault or something.

Taking a step back, you lean against the kitchen counter, giving yourself a bit of space from him, “They’re mostly harmless though, if I ignore them.”

“There are scarier things out there than them,” he alone is proof of that.

You’re trying to remain calm and collected, “That’s...”

“Remember, if you die, I die,” it’s almost like he’s trying to keep you calm, keep you on track.

You need to test if you can trust his words, “I’m really sorry,” he looks confused by your sudden apology, “But if you can’t lie to me… then what is your name?”

Oh, he didn’t like that at all, his face contorting in anger, “Choso.”

There’s a slim chance that he’s still lying to you, to get you to trust him but the utterly frustrated expression he’s wearing tells you otherwise.

He’s stepping close to you again, arms either side your form, hands resting on the countertop, keeping you trapped between him and the bench, “If you still don’t trust me after that, this is going to become incredibly difficult for the both of us.”

“I trust you…” As much as you can anyway.

“Had to get bound to someone like you,” he mutters angrily.

You’re a little offended, “Hey, I didn’t exactly want to get stuck with you either.”

Grunting, he pulls back, not paying your words any mind, “You need to be more careful from here on out.”

“I’m always careful,” does he not realise you’ve lived for this long, you’re careful.

He corrects, “More careful.”

“What else could I possibly do to be more careful,” ignoring them is all you really can do, it’s not like flicking them away would work for you.

“For one, stop attempting to summon demons,” his tone makes it feel like you’re being scolded… because you are.

Feeling the need to defend yourself, you murmur, “It was my friends idea…”

With no hesitation, he returns, “Your friend is an idiot.”

“Hey–”

“­–And so are you, for also doing it.”

You don’t like that he has a point, it’s worse that you did it actually, since you know these things are real.

His question feels like it comes out of nowhere, “What else does your friend like doing?”

You doubt he’s suddenly grown an interest in her as a person, “Why?”

Your eyes track him as he moves to the other side of the kitchen and leans again the countertop opposite you, “Because if they’re the kind of idiot to summon demons, they’re probably also doing other stupid things.”

Pursing your lips, you look away from him because he hit the nail on the head, “She likes to go to abandoned buildings, cemeteries… she likes all things… uhm, scary? I guess.”

Tilting his head, he looks you over again, he seems to do that a lot, “Does she not know about you?”

Covering yourself with your arms, you answer, “Easier not to tell her.”

“Idiot.”

“Okay! stop calling me an idiot now, please,” You get it, you’re an idiot, you don’t need this demon telling you that repeatedly.

“Stop going to risky places with her,” he doesn’t apologise, “Puts you at risk.”

“Okay,” it’s easier to just agree, you’re getting tired, it was already late when your friend left.

Abruptly, he announces, “Don’t bother asking a favour, I won’t be leaving for a bit.”

You almost sputter, “What?” You had just about resigned yourself to asking for one so he would leave and you could sleep in peace.

Rephrasing, he says, “There are some things I want to see, so I will be staying for a bit.”

���How am I meant to sleep in my apartment when there is also a demon in it?” You’re so, so tired, why is he so weird. Are all the demons this weird? Or is it just this one?

He is completely unsympathetic to your plight, “Not my problem.”

“You’re not very nice,” you’re not even really sure why you say it, like it would mean anything to him.

He doesn’t even dignify it with a response, just looking at you with an expression that looks almost as tired as you feel.

“Listen, demon man–”

“–You know my name now, use it.”

That catches you off guard, you hadn’t used it in fear of offending him but it seems like you managed to do that anyhow, “Choso…” using his name feels weirdly intimate, “I need to sleep, so you have to go away.”

Gaze even, he says it how he sees it, “I can’t and like I said, I’m not going to. There are some things I’d like to see.”

The most annoying part of what he’s just said is surprisingly the first bit, “What do you mean can’t?”

“I have to be within the general vicinity of where I was summoned or near the person I’m bound to,” he answers cooly, like that isn’t the most inconvenient thing you’ve heard all night.

“What? How am I meant to sleep peacefully? Have people over?” You have a date coming up, what if you wanted to bring them back here?  

He repeats an earlier statement, “Not. My. Problem.” No sympathy from him.

You raise your hands in exasperation, clenching into fists by your head before dropping them and letting the tension go. Trying to calm yourself, “I need to sleep, I’m going to sleep and hope this is some weirdly vivid dream.”

He goes to open his mouth to speak but you cut him off with a single hand raising, “No. We can talk more at an appropriate time, if you’re still here.” You inhale and exhale a deep breath, “Do not come into my room. Stay out here.”

Rolling his eyes at you, he dismisses, “Go to bed.”

Keeping your eyes on him, you squint, sceptical of him as you wander out the kitchen and towards your bedroom. He doesn’t watch you but you know he can tell you’re watching him. When your back hits your bedroom door, you slip inside and shut the door.

How are you meant to get even a little bit of sleep with him out there?

⟢

It’s dark in your room when you open your eyes, only a small amount of light creeping in from behind your closed blinds. You guess you somehow managed to fall asleep, it’s still early in the morning though, so you probably only got a few hours. You have never been more thankful for the weekend than you are right now.

Rolling over, you look at your bedroom door, wondering if that all really happened last night or if you’ve just woken up from a really weird and detailed dream. Flopping onto your back, you stare at the ceiling instead, not sure if you’re ready to face if it was real. You’d stay like this all day but footsteps from outside your room prompt you to get up.

Tentatively, you poke your head out your door, eyeing your living area carefully. A figure is sat on your couch, reading one of your books. It’s Choso, you sigh with the realisation that it was all real, feeling like you’re apart of some sick cosmic joke right about now.

He speaks without looking to you, knowing you’re there, “You read a lot of poorly written books…”

“Excuse me?” How does he manage to insult you in ways you weren’t expecting.

He glances at you quickly before looking back at the book, “I’ve been reading some of your books but your selection is disappointing.”

Your eyes shift over to your bookcase next to your television to see a pile of books sitting in front of it, like he can’t be bothered putting them back properly after he’s deemed them unworthy.

“You’ve made a mess,” your tone weak, exhausted.

His attention is finally off the book as he shifts to face you, arm resting on the back of the couch, “Those ones aren’t worth keeping.”

“I liked them…” Sure, they weren’t all works of art but some of them were cute fantasies filled with action and adventure and romance and… You feel like you might spontaneously combust out of embarrassment because… did this demon read the books containing porn?What a horrific albeit amusing thought.

He raises a brow at you, confused by your sudden change in behaviour. He ignores it though, not really one to care about your comfortability, “Are you ready to talk again?”

“I don’t think anyone would ever be ready for the kind of talk you wish to have,” you’re staring blankly into the distance. There are literally a billion different things on your mind right now and nearly all of them have to do with him.

His eyes track you as you wander over to the book pile he’d made. Crouching down, you begin putting them back into their spots on the shelf.

He hums from behind you, “It’s simple, I need to determine some things about your situation and until I’m satisfied I won’t be going anywhere.”

Groaning, you continue cleaning the books, “You understand how inconvenient that is to me, right?”

“You understand how inconvenient it is to me that my immortal life is tied to a pitiful human, right?” Before you can protest or really add anything to the conversation, he continues, “One, at that, who enjoys meddling with things that wish her harm?”

Ignoring basically all of what he’s just said, you glare at him, “If you’re so intent on staying here then the least you could do is be considerate and leave things as you find them.” Getting up, you approach him and pluck the book from his hands, “Or better yet, not snoop around in things that do not belong to you.”

He waves you off, “Things would go smoother if you would just cooperate.”

You don’t really have a reply so you don’t give him one, choosing instead to walk back to the bookshelf and place the book you took from him on it. This being your reality hasn’t really set in yet, how are you meant to live like this? Glancing back at the demon lounging on your couch, he stares back at you, apparently having been watching you the whole time.

“Ignoring me won’t make me go away,” he says it so matter-of-factly that it pisses you off.

Turning away again, you ignore him… like he’s wrong and it’ll start working. It’s not going to, you know that. It’s been made clear he’s not leaving but you keep hoping he will. Maybe you could blame this all on your lack of sleep. You’re so tired, the rest you got definitely not enough, though you don’t think even a perfect rest would be enough to deal with all this.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, “You said we could talk more at an appropriate hour.”

You groan at him, “You’re a demon, there’s a blood pact, you technically can leave but are now choosing not to and apparently plan on making it damn near impossible for me to live a normal life.”

“I’m not the one who decided it would be a fun evening activity to summon a demon.”

Oh, he’s struck a nerve, “Well it wasn’t mine either!”

“Speaking of, get that book off your friend,” he stretches his limbs, “I don’t know what’ll happen if that binding spell is used again while I’m already stuck to you.”

You snark back at him, “Maybe you’ll go bother them instead.”

Paying no mind to your tone, he answers, “That would be the best-case scenario.”

With the books all back on the shelf, you sigh, “It’s too early for this.”

Disregarding your bad mood, he changes the topic again, “When you go out, keep a mental note of the things you see.”

“That’s so much work,” you’ve put so much time into training your brain to ignore them, doing the opposite would be effort you don’t know if you can be bothered to exert.

It’s his turn to be in a bad mood now, “I don’t care, do it.”

“So bossy…” You mutter under your breath.

“Just do what I ask, you’re being so resistant when this is for your safety,” he’s growing weary of your attitude.

“Yeah but like… I’d probably be fine; I have been for this long.” You shrug at him, “This is about you being worried about dying but you will be fine because I am always fine.”

He stares back at you, apparently lost for words but the look in his eyes says enough. He hates this situation and he hates how blasé you’re being about it.

⟢

It’s been about a month since he first showed up and he still won’t leave even though you gave up and started doing what he asked. Paying attention to the little creatures while also not looking like you’re paying attention to them is difficult and tedious but you’ve done it. Somehow, there seems to be less of them ever since Choso, you don’t know if correlation is equal to causation in this situation but it has to be more than a coincidence.

When you had told Choso about this connection you made he only hummed at you in thought and then walked away to the spare room you graciously allowed him to stay in. He’s so dismissive of you but getting time to yourself without his overwhelming presence is a small relief you allow yourself to feel.

Having him in your home is weird to say the least, he’s not as annoying as a house guest as you initially thought he would be but it’s also strange that he’s just… always here. If he sleeps you’re never around to witness it and he still goes through all your things even though you protest every time you find him doing so. To his credit, you imagine he is incredibly bored so you’re not as mean as you could be.

Tonight is the date you were meant to go on a while ago, you kept postponing it. There’s been too much on your mind to think about dating, even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to bring him back to your apartment, not with the demon residing in your guest room.

It’s too late to back out though and you’ve cancelled so many times now, you’d feel bad if you did it again. So, you get ready even though you’re not as excited as you would’ve been a month ago. It really is a shame; he’s a nice person and you feel awful for rescheduling on him so much.

While looking in the mirror by your front door, Choso shows up behind you, watching you fuss over your appearance. His brows pinch at you in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready,” you glance at him through the mirror.

He waits a moment like he’s expecting you to say more, “…For?”

Your brow raises at him, “I feel like I’ve told you already.”

Still, you didn’t answer his question. Something that has been growing to annoy him. He sighs at you, “Then remind me.”

Spinning to face him before answering, “I have a date tonight.”

“Hmm… and you’ll be going out… all night?”

The way he phrased it is bizarre to you, cocking your head as you ask, “Is that a problem?”

“It should be fine,” he looks to be in thought, an expression you’re getting used to seeing.

“Is there something you want or can I go now,” you meant it as more of a rhetorical question but he doesn’t seem to take it as one.

“I want to test something before you leave,” he steps closer to you.

You’d take a step back but the wall is right behind you, “And what do you want to test?”

He ignores your question, much to your dismay. He’s stepping closer to you and you feel worried at what he’s about to do, not able to do anything but stand here. As he wraps his arms around you, you brace yourself for something more to happen but nothing does. His hands pull you closer to him, your body flush to his. When you realise he’s not going to do anything to you, you wiggle in his hold.

He leans down to speak into your ear, “Don’t move.”

The words breathed against your skin send a shiver down your spine. “Were you just… in the mood for a cuddle or is there a grand reason behind this?” You’re hoping to offer levity, feeling uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s warm, he’s warm and sturdy, his breath hot against you. Your body temperature is rapidly spiking, your thoughts getting fuzzy the longer he holds you against him.

He pulls back from you, as stoic as ever, “Pay attention to your surroundings tonight.”

It’s not until later into that evening that you realise what he may have done by holding you like that, the shadows that you so often see nowhere near you. His little test lingering in your head the whole time you’re trying to have a nice date, not able to focus on the person in front of you.

Instead, your brain is caught on how it felt when a particular demon held you close and how his breath against your skin made your head spin. This whole ordeal is only going to become more taxing on you, you just know it.

⟢

Days have passed and your mind is still stuck on how Choso had held you, brow twitching every time you find yourself daydreaming about him. He’s the demon in your guest room, not some cute guy at work, you need to get a hold of yourself. You can’t be thinking about him like that… maybe you should just ask for a favour so that he leaves for a bit. That way you’d at least get some space from him, he’s always here and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore how attractive he is.

The sound of your mindless chopping fills your ears, trying to prepare dinner for this evening and getting woefully distracted. A slip of the knife and a pain in your finger reminds you just how distracted you seem to have gotten. Intaking a sharp breath at the cut you’re about to move for the sink only for Choso to be behind you, his unexpected presence startling you.

“How many times have I asked you to not do that,” you scold him, he’s scared you like this too many times to count.

He disregards your admonishment, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m aware,” you blink at him, “I was going to–”

The words you were about to speak dying in your throat when he grabs your hand, his tongue licking up the trail of blood before lathing over your cut. Careful to watch what he’s doing the whole time, not wanting to hurt you further as he licks up the mess. You can only look back at him dazed, brain feeling like it’s short circuiting. He’s flustered you and you have no idea how to respond to such an action.

“W–why did you do that?”

His gaze flicks to you, mouth pulling back, “To help.”

Before you slap him silly you look at your small wound and see it’s been completely healed. Apparently his tongue possesses some healing properties, and you’d find that really interesting if you weren’t trying really hard to not think about how he looked while licking you.

“You taste good,” he says it easily, like it doesn’t have you melting into a puddle on the floor.

Your mouth gapes at him, lost for words before settling on, “You can’t just go around licking people, Choso.”

“I don’t,” his expression incredulous, finding your accusation baseless despite his actions just now.

Not knowing what else to say, you stand there looking back at him stupidly. The expression he’s making unreadable, clearly nowhere near as affected by his actions as you are. His hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head back to look at you, eyes examining you closely.

“What’s wrong with you,” he asks suddenly.

You don’t understand what he means by that, “What? Nothing?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted lately, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

It’d be easy to mistake his questions for concern if you didn’t know any better, but you do, he’s a demon. Something you find yourself having to remember often, he doesn’t care for you, not in a matter that you’d want to be cared for. You don’t even know if he’s capable of it. It feels cruel to be asked questions and given reminders to look out for yourself when the person giving them doesn’t actually care about you but rather himself.

“Choso, please hand me that tea towel,” you pause and his head tilts at you in confusion. Clarifying, you add, “You have to, this is the favour I am asking of you.”

The only tell that you’ve asked properly being his grim expression, wholly unimpressed by this situation. His jaw clenches as his body turns stiffly to grab what you’ve asked for, as if he were trying to hold off on completing the request.

“Why now?” He hisses lowly.

There’s a tug in your heart, already regretting your actions but he can’t stay here with you. Letting your feelings for him grow would be stupid and despite what they say, absence does not make the heart grow fonder. This is logical, this is the smart choice, this is what’s best… so why is it hurting you so much.

Eyes intense and annoyance palpable, a singular request uttered, “Call me back.”

You shake your head at him, having him return so soon would defeat the purpose of what you’re attempting to do.

“You are the most frustrating human by far,” he begrudgingly hands you the tea towel, scowling as he disappears from your apartment.

The breath you let out is large, body folding with it, stuck between feeling relief and regret. Everything is still and your apartment feels emptier than ever. Blankly, you stare at the tea towel in your hand. Its bright and happy pattern feels mocking. This is fine.

Looking back at your bench, the half-chopped vegetables sit on your cutting board. This is fine. This feeling will pass. In a week, or two, this will feel like nothing more than a long and vivid dream. This. Is. Fine.

⟢

It’s beginning to feel like… the damage had already been done. The days go by but you still remember how he looked when you’d come home. His brow relaxing when you’d step through the door, like he was worried about you while you were gone. His patience while he listened to you complain about things he wasn’t even a little bit concerned with. It’s been lonely at home.

Your coworker calling your name reminds you that you’re at work. Shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the memories before turning to them properly, “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Wasn’t that guy in here during your last shift?” Their voice filled with concern.

Glancing over in the direction they’re looking; you see your date from a while back. “Ignore him, he’ll get bored eventually.”

“Okay…” They squint at you, “But actually I think you should tell management about him, just so they know.”

You wave them off, not really concerned. It is a little troubling though, the guy had taken it so well when you initially told him you weren’t interested. Only to do what seems like a complete one-eighty and blow up your phone with messages. Obviously you blocked him and now he’s lightly stalking you. Maybe you’d care more if he ever approached you or if you weren’t busy thinking about Choso but alas he is low on your list of concerns.

At your coworkers intense eye contact you concede, “Fine, I’ll tell them but I doubt they’ll care.”

They put their hand on your shoulder, offering support, “If he tries to come over, tell me and I’ll deal with it instead.”

Placing your hand over theirs, you look deep into their eyes, “I love you.”

Their face twists in disgust as they push you away, “Go do your job.”

You laugh as you shuffle away, despite your joking you’re appreciative of their support. 

⟢

Those little creatures hang around you again, ever since you sent Choso away they’ve been lingering more. It’s somewhat of a bother but you did fine before he showed up and you’re doing fine now. You go through the motions, ignoring them, working, going back to your empty apartment. Your date that you can’t remember the name of keeps hanging out at your job but he gets ignored like the shadowy critters.

Not that you’ve been keeping track but it’s been a little over a month since you last saw Choso. The last thing you remember seeing was his angry face, still, you want to see him again and maybe if you didn’t feel so guilty you’d have called him back by now. Too many times you’ve almost called his name aloud but your feelings haven’t faded and calling him now seems pointless.

Plus, you’re a little concerned about how mad at you he might be. The way you asked your favour was cheap and unexpected so you’re sure he’d have some choice words and a stern look to give you. Though, there is the chance he’d be mad at you for calling him back after all this time, he might be comfortable wherever he is and you calling him might only serve to feed his anger.

Ultimately you’re indecisive on the matter, you could call him back for just a little bit, if he’s angry you’ll send him away again and it’ll all be okay… probably. Mind moving a million miles a minute as you slump back into the couch, you called out of work today, feeling stressed after not sleeping well.

You’re not quite sure what exactly has you feeling this way but you’ve been feeling a lot of unease lately. It’s more than likely everything combined but you’re not ruling out something more sinister. Choso’s words about scarier things being out there nags at you whenever you get a quiet moment to acknowledge his warning.

Your arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes. Inner turmoil getting to you as you grumble, “Stupid demon and his stupid warning, can’t even sleep properly anymore.”

A knock on your door startles you, body shooting straight up. You’re not expecting anyone, all your friends are either at work or would tell you before dropping by. Cautiously, you approach the door, choosing to look into the peephole before even thinking of opening it.

An unpleasant shiver rocks through your body, blood running cold as you see that your unwanted guest is your date from all those weeks ago. You knew he was stalking you but he only ever appeared at work, you’ve never even seen him in your neighbourhood. The fact he shouldn’t know your address meaning he’s followed you home without your knowledge making you feel sick.

Taking a step back, you consider your options. Opening the door is out of the question, pretending to not be home and waiting him out seems to be a good idea but if he’s already been to your job and seen you’re not there then he might not be as willing to believe that. You’re nervous, there’s no way to know how much he knows about you or how long he’s been watching you for. If he’s been waiting for you to leave for work then he’d know you’re still in here.

In your anxiety you bite at your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth when more patient knocks sound at your door. You didn’t really want to have to turn to him but he’s probably the only person that would get to you quickly and put you more at ease.

Fleeing to your bedroom, you keep your hurried footsteps light, not wanting to draw his attention to the sound. You cringe internally at the small squeak your door lets out as you close it as slowly as possible. Giving yourself a moment, you take a deep breath and brace yourself for the probably very angry demon you’re about to summon right to you.  

Just as you’re about to say his name, you falter, wondering if there’s more to it or if it really is as simple as just saying his name. “…Choso.”

You’re on edge immediately, it’s familiar though, distinctively Choso in how your blood warms and your hairs stand on end. It really was as simple as saying his name.

He stands in front of you, frown deeper than you’ve ever seen it, his arms folded over his chest, “You took your sweet time.”

Instantly he has you on the defensive, “I had my reasons.”

His tongue clicks at you, wholly unimpressed, “Care to enlighten me on what they may be?”

Remembering your reason for sending him away, you awkwardly reply, “Not really.”

He sighs at you, clearly annoyed by your answer, “I assume you’ve reconciled with yourself then, since you’ve summoned me back.”

“Well… no–”

There’s a thudding on your door again, more aggressive than the first few times he’d knocked. Clearly growing impatient and probably able to hear your voices. You flinch at the sound, almost forgetting that there was a reason for you calling Choso back.

Choso catches onto your unease quickly, “Who is that?”

“Ah, well… you remember that date I went on? He’s sort of been… lightly stalking me.” You clear your throat, “I felt a little… scared… so I summoned you back.”

“How long has he been stalking you for?”

“Lightly, stalking…” You overcorrect to a decidedly very unamused Choso. “…I noticed not long after you left.” You can’t say you’re really appreciating the ‘told you so’ look he’s got plastered across his features right now. “Him stalking me has nothing to do with you so stop looking at me like that.”

“For a smart girl you’re awfully clueless sometimes,” his hand reaches past you for the door handle, “After I deal with this, you’re telling me why you made me leave.”

A conversation you’d really rather not have, it’s embarrassing to think about admitting to liking the demon you accidentally forced into a blood bind. Even more embarrassing that you had to force him to leave your house because he was driving you insane.

You avoid eye contact with him as he passes by, opting to stay put while he handles the unwanted guest. Having him back brings a kind of security you weren’t even fully aware of having lost, the fact you trust this literal demon with your wellbeing should be more concerning but it only adds to your feelings for him.

While waiting you can hear their muffled voices followed by nothing, an off-putting silence filling the apartment before the door is slammed closed. Cautiously, you stick your head out of your room, looking over to where Choso is standing. His broad back facing you, when he turns to meet your eyes you can’t help but feel guilty.

You leave your room properly and walk over to him, checking over his appearance to make sure he’s fine.

His next words are simple and chilling, “He was possessed.”

You feel faint, “What?”

“Not in any real sense, those things that follow you simply latched onto him, influencing his behaviour.” There’s a distaste in his tone when referring to the shadows before he continues,  “Probably hoping to use his proximity to you to their advantage, though they’re not all that intelligent which calls into question how they managed it.” He’s looking down at you, expression grim, “Did you forget my warnings? Why did it take you so long to call me back?”

“Well, I obviously couldn’t tell he was being possessed,” you’re feeling an awful lot like he’s victim blaming you right now and you’re not in love with that, “Sometimes men are just scary like that.”

“So, you’d rather be lightly stalked than call me?” He mocks you from earlier.

“Did I say that?” You sigh, tired, “Is he going to be okay?” You’re feeling a sense of responsibility for him, it’s your fault he got possessed and if you had noticed sooner he’d have been normal long before he followed you home.

“He’ll be fine, though he probably won’t remember much of his last month.” His brow raises at you, clearly waiting for some kind of real explanation for the mess you’ve caused.

“Don’t be so crabby,” you walk away from him and flop onto the couch, head resting on the back of it, “It all turned out fine in the end.” Not acknowledging how guilty you feel is far easier than being vulnerable with him right now.

He follows you to the couch, standing resolutely in front of you, “I know you don’t have this much of a disregard for your wellbeing–”

Smirking at him, you try to play everything off, “You’re starting to sound like you were worried about me.”

“Of course I was worried about you,” his words and the ease at which he speaks them catches you off guard, “You’re being inexplicably stupid and your faux ignorance at the gravity of your situation is becoming annoying.”

Okay… ouch. Any warm fuzzy feelings you had are kind of dampened by the harsh slap of reality he just gave you.

“I know things felt a little off but I had no way of knowing if I was just imagining it or not, don’t blame me for acting human.”

“Whether you like it or not, you are not the same as every other human, act like it. Those instincts are there for a reason.” He can see the way you’re getting antsy, uncomfortable with the way he’s scolding you. “Tell me why you had me leave.”

You scrabble at that, “Is that necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Is this really his priority right now?

“Because I don’t want to be caught off guard like that again and I’d rather fix what’s bothering you now.” He watches you closely, not missing how you only seem to grow more restless.

Turning your head to the side you offer, “If I promise not to do it again, will you let this go?”

“No.”

You stand up at that, trying to make the conversation feel more even, “And why not?”

He speaks very calmly, “I had to wait until you were ready to call on me, wondering the whole time if you were safe and only knowing you hadn’t met an untimely end because I was still alive.” He leans down into your space, brows furrowing at how you turn away from him. His hand grabs your chin and pulls your gaze back to his, “Don’t do that to me again.”

It’s hard to keep eye contact with him, his emotions raging behind his stoic demeanour. Your answer to his question is ambiguous, “I couldn’t have you here.”

He, of course, pushes back on that ambiguity, “Why?”

He’s infuriating you; his insistent pestering is annoying. Fine. If he wants to know so badly, you’ll tell him.

“I couldn’t think clearly with you here…” you’re confessing but it comes across as challenging, a result of your foul mood, “Because I like you and I didn’t want to let myself feel it.” As if he’d be put off by your admission, you cement, “That’s why I couldn’t have you here.”

The only response you get from him is an unreadable grin. An annoying and stupid smile as he continues to hold you still so you can’t even turn away from the maddening expression. It’s almost torture, it feels like some kind of sick and twisted form of punishment. Being in the palm of his hand, emotionally and literally.

“Human emotions aren’t all that complex but all the different reactions and rationales behind them are,” he hums at you, finding this humorous somehow.

“I’m glad you’re thoroughly entertained by my inner turmoil, now either let me make you leave or stop being unnecessarily cruel.”

He lets go of you finally, a small mercy, “I thought you liked me; you’re not really acting like it.”

Thankfully you have the chance to look away from him now, “Don’t push it, Choso. Did you think I’d fall into a puddle because you touched me?”

“No but eye contact seems to embarrass you, maybe if you gazed into my eyes long enough you might.” Pleased grin still settled on his features, it’s the most you’ve seen him emote aside from annoyance.

Your response is to glare at him, directly into his eyes. If looks could kill he’d be dead and buried six feet under. “Make a choice.”

His smile falters, “What?”

“Either stay here or leave.” Those are his only options, having him here will feel unfair to you but it might be more inconvenient to him, you want to at least offer him an out.

He’s genuinely confused, he just got back to you, “Why would I leave?”

You don’t really understand the confusion but spell it out all the same, “…I don’t imagine you love the idea of a human falling for you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Falling for me?” Oh great, he’s amused again.

You can feel a headache coming on, fingers rubbing at your temples, “Don’t change the topic.”

He shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

You stop, “What?”

He repeats, “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?” Your hands drop to your sides.

His arms fold over his chest, “Your feelings for me.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t have much to do with me.”

His logic is flawed and he’s pissing you off, he always pisses you off, his feigned indifference is stupid. You keep glaring at him, eyes glinting dangerously. You step closer to him and he doesn’t move away, as sturdy as ever. Leaning up, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself to him.

You’re hugging him, he wavers for a moment before he’s hesitantly moving his hands to loop around you, hugging you back. Otherwise, he’s completely still, clearly taken off-guard by your sudden affections. You’re careful to make sure your lips just barely graze against his ear, softly admitting to him, “I missed you.”

His fingers dig into your shirt at your voice, you’re getting to him more than you expected to. Pulling back, you’re surprised by the look in his eyes. A lidded and endearing expression that almost has you forgetting the aim of your actions. Resolve weak because you’d really like to kiss him and with how he glances at your lips quickly you think he might let you but he’s a bastard and you’ve not forgotten that.

Patting his chest with your hands you smile, “Welcome home, Choso.”

Removing yourself from his hold you’re met with some resistance but ultimately you’re walking away from him and back into your room. Shutting your door, you’re leaving him alone in your living room. His head fuzzy and thoughts confused on what exactly just happened.

⟢

Having Choso back has been comforting, you’re living a lot more peacefully. Both your stalker and the shadows have left you alone. Going to work hasn’t been as nerve-wracking lately and in that sense it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. But while it’s been calm outside your apartment, inside it is a different story.

Ever since Choso’s return he’s been watching you a lot more closely than before, spending more time around you when you’re home compared to when he was first here. There’s even been a few times you’ve had to stop him from following you to work. More recently he’s taken to staring at you, your peripherals picking up on his unwavering gaze. Sometimes when you realise, it devolves into an argument.

He continues to be steadfast that he’s not staring, nothing’s wrong, and he’s the same as always but his behaviour is clearly stating otherwise. You’re the one who likes him, shouldn’t you be the one acting strangely around him? Overall, it’s not a huge deal it’s just annoying to feel so observed in your own home. If you were meaner, you’d ask him in a way so he’d have to answer honestly but it feels oddly invasive to have someone be honest with you against their will.

You’re just trying to enjoy your evening, watching T.V. and lazing but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s making it hard to get comfortable,so without looking at him you simply say, “Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he sounds sure, like he’s certain he’s not doing anything to warrant your words.

“Choso…” you pause and turn to look at him, getting a little distracted by how he looks with his hair down. “I can’t get comfortable when you keep staring at me, just watch the show.”

His head drops forward to look at the T.V., clearly unimpressed, “This is boring.”

Ignoring the urge to argue in favour of your favourite show, you retort, “Because staring at me is so interesting.”

Silence. He has nothing to reply with.

Groaning at him, “You’ve been staring at me so much lately, it’s becoming frustrating.”

Reply quick and wrong, “I’m not staring.”

You squint at him accusatorily, “You are a liar.” Growing exasperated, you grumble, “If you have something to ask just ask it.”

“Can I touch you?” He’d almost seem sheepish when asking if he wasn’t so blunt.

There’s an upsetting kind of excitement settling in you when he asks, mostly you’re taken aback though, “What? Why?”

“Because–” He begins to explain but you’re cutting him off before he can.

“–Choso, you understand that I like you right? I like the idea of–” you stop, the sudden quiet awkward before you start again. “The point is – I like you and it’s unfair of you to ask me things like that.”

“Is that a no?”

Thinking on it for a moment, you decide, “It’s not…”

His hand moves for you slowly, as if he’s cautious of the fact you might change your mind. Hand on your cheek gentle, a kind of softness you didn’t think him explicitly capable of. It lingers for a moment, thumb brushing high on your cheek before he drops his hand. Moving lower instead, wrapping around your torso. You’re not completely sure on what you were expecting when he asked if he could touch you but as he pulls you to him and embraces you, you’re certain you weren’t expecting this.

The angle is a little awkward, you’re trying to hug him back as best as you can but it’s uncomfortable and it seems to bother him because he’s quickly tugging you onto his lap. Arms big and firm around you, holding you close. This is a kind of intimacy you’ve not experienced before; it’s making you nervous, you still don’t know what he wants from you, and this did nothing to make it any clearer.

“Calm down,” his words vibrate through his chest.

“I am calm.”

He knows better, “You’re not, I can tell.”

“Ignore it,” you’re embarrassed.

He huffs at you, partway amused, “Fine.”

Then he’s pulling you in closer, his face burying into you, nosing at your neck. The way he inhales your scent has goosebumps breaking out across your skin, almost shameless in his actions. It feels like he’s trying to make you even more nervous, taking your words to ignore you at face value. There’s a sick kind of joy he has to be getting from this, from how your heartbeat speeds up and how your breaths come faster. You almost feel like you’re shaking with nervous energy.

Voice trembling when you ask, “What are you doing?”

His response is to state the obvious, “Embracing you.”

You murmur back at him, “Are you done yet?”

“No.”

How annoying, at least he’s consistent in how easily he frustrates you. His few simple words always managing to get under your skin, its effect on you running deeper than you feel comfortable with.

Instead of trying to understand his motivations any further, you choose to relax into him, allowing yourself to be held. You have a feeling that he’s not sure enough of his own actions to explain them to you, so you’ll settle for being confused but held.

His breath tickles your ear, “You missed me?”

“Hmm?” You take a second to process, “Yeah…”

“Say it.”

His request takes you off guard, you’re pulling back slightly to make eye contact with him. He wants to hear you say it, his eyes imploring yours.

Your hand cradles his face, giving him what he wants, “I missed you.”

“I think…” his gaze flits between your eyes and your lips, “I missed you too.”

A small smile breaks out across your face, “Be careful, you might damage your demon rep if anyone hears you.”

He leans up to you, his lips just shy of yours, almost brushing them when he speaks, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You’re about to say something that would no doubt embarrass you when he’s taking the chance to connect your lips. Heart leaping in your chest at how fully he kisses you, insistent in how he leans up to you more, arms around you and tugging you down into him. There’s a neediness in his movements you didn’t expect him to have for you.

It’s making you dizzy, his kiss, his hands on your back, the desperation from him you weren’t ready for. Like he’s been pent up and the flood gates have opened, barely willing to part for a second to breathe.

It’s a lot, you’ve never been kissed like this, so completely, so desired. It’s hard to think, all thoughts you have muddling together. You need to breathe but every time you try to open your mouth to speak he’s planting another full kiss to your lips.

With your fingers in his hair, you tug on him, he groans as he’s pulled back. Finally, you’re able to draw in the air you needed, chest rising and falling quickly with relief. Choso stays looking at you, his eyes lidded as he watches you breathe. It’s hot in your apartment now, or that might just be you, your skin warm, feeling warmer with how he’s looking at you.

There’s nothing coming to mind, it feels like you should say something, but you’re completely lost for words. He’s rendered you speechless, still feeling a little dizzy as your eyes drop to his lips, glossy and slick from your shared kiss. A small smile spreads across his face, and it prompts you to look up, realising you were staring.

You feel fuzzy when you remember how he’d said he missed you, a dopey grin on your face, “You said you missed me.”

He doesn’t deny it, “I did.”

“You meant it?” You’re already asking your question before he’s even really finished giving his reply.

He pretends to think on it, for no other reason than to tease, “Hmm… Yes. I think so.”

You mutter at him, “Cruel…”

His hand cradles the side of your face, so gentle in how his thumb brushes over your cheek, “Did you?”

“Did I what?” A little lost at his question, too busy registering how it feels when he touches you.

“Mean it when you said you missed me,” The hand on your face trails further down, thumb tugging your lower lip.

Your lips quirk up in a smile, tone playful, “I mean everything I say.”

The look he gives you conveys severe doubt, it comes from experience of dealing with you.

His expression earns an eye roll from you, conceding without him even saying anything, “Okay so maybe not everything but I mean it when I say I missed you.”

Hand trailing even further down, now resting against the side of your neck. He’s probably able to feel your thumping pulse under his fingers, “And the other thing?”

If you tried to guess what he was asking you’d probably know but just to be sure, “What other thing?”

“You said something about liking me,” he’s trying to play it off, a nonchalance he usually possesses nowhere to be found in his words despite his efforts.

“I’m starting to think you just like hearing how much I like you,” crossing your arms, you add, “It’d be cute if it didn’t feel mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean.”

“You haven’t even told me how you feel about me.”

Choso’s head quirks slightly, “Was the kiss not enough?”

“I don’t know, maybe you kiss everyone else like that too,” your finger jabs at his chest accusatorily.

“Did you just call me a whore?”

“No.” You look away and pout, “I implied it.”

“I’m not a whore.” He seems distracted when he says it.

You squint at him; some doubt there but not serious. You’re not sure you ever considered him a virgin, but you didn’t really consider the opposite either. His hands are still on you, one slipping under your shirt, warm against your bare skin, the distraction in his words a little clearer now when you notice the way he’s been looking at you.

“Can I kiss you again or are you too busy implying I’m a whore?”

“You can’t kiss me again because you didn’t answer my question.”

His brows pull up, “Funny, I don’t remember it being phrased as one.”

Leaning into him, your lips hover over his, so close you’re almost touching. Just as he’s about to close the gap you pull back, “How do you feel about me?”

He sighs when you move away, “Right now?”

If that’s how he wants to play it, fine. “I’m not gonna sit on just anybody’s lap and make out with them.” You make a move to get off of him, not willing to sit so suggestively in the lap of someone who doesn’t even like you.

He stops you from going anywhere, his large hands firm on your hips. “Am I just anybody? I thought you liked me.”

“Right now?” You quirk a brow at him.

“Don’t be petulant.”

“I’m not being petulant, I’m just not willing to debase myself for a demon who doesn’t even like me.”

“I never said I didn’t like you,” he offers like it’s enough, gaze already set on your lips again.

The very lips that are pouting moodily back at him, not entertained by such a small concession. Instead of dignifying him with a further back and forth, you seriously move to get off him. Hands planted on his chest as you throw a cautious glance back at where you’re stepping. When he realises he’s not satisfied you his hands grapple for you, somewhat frantic that you’re leaving the comfortable place he’d had you sat.

Words rushing from him, almost surprising himself with how needy he sounds, “Don’t– don’t leave–”

“–Why not?” It’s sharp, how you cut him off, quickly growing embarrassed at how forward you’ve been.

“Because I like having you close,” he replies obviously, brows pinching slightly. He takes your pause as opportunity to manoeuvre you back into place, arms around you, holding you tight to his chest.

Soft sigh leaving you, annoyed by how endearing you find him. “Choso…”

“I missed you…” His face has found its way to your neck. Breathing in your scent, shiver running down his spine with it, “…Because I like you.” Almost like he can’t stop himself, he licks at your neck, tasting you. A low sound coming from him, “I like you a lot.”

This took a sudden turn from playful to frustrating to dizzying, the air around you is heavy as he licks and nips at your skin. Pulling shaky breaths in when his hand slides under your shirt again, the feeling of his skin on yours hot.

“I–”

Whatever you were about to say is getting cut off, “–Are you gonna let me kiss you now?” His words are spoken between kisses as he trails his lips up to the side of your face.

Without saying anything, you turn your head slightly to the side. Lips meeting his easily, melding together in a soft kiss. He’s careful this time but no less insistent, quickly growing less restrained. Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers pulling at the material of his shirt.

A small noise leaves you when he’s licking into your mouth, the sound seemingly setting Choso off. One of his hands jumps for your face, the other holding your throat. His kisses growing needy. It’s all you can do to try and keep up with him, his lips fervent and messy.

Your fingers thread through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp and it’s like he melts into you. Soft moan leaving him you weren’t expecting, your chest stuttering as you stifle down the whine bubbling in you. He sounded so pretty when he moaned, you want to hear it again. Repeating the motion, you nip at his lower lip at the same time, trying to coax it out of him.

Unfortunately, he stuffs down the noise the second time, just barely – his body shudders with it. He uses his hand on your throat to hold you in place, his forehead resting on yours. Huffed breaths shared in the space between you, your eyes are unfocused and glassy, his much the same. You’re trying to calm yourself, worked up and very nearly squirming on top of him.

There’s something you should tell him, especially with how heated this exchange is getting but you can’t seem to get your head on straight long enough to voice yourself. Choso seems to be able to tell that you’re struggling though, his expression amused but no less kiss drunk than you.

Showing mercy, he gives you an opening, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” This is embarrassing, “I don’t wanna be presumptuous or anything but you should– uhm… I just think you should know…” your skin feels unbelievably hot right now, feeling flushed as you murmur, “…I’m a virgin.”

He hums at you, completely unsurprised at your confession, “I know.” He ignores your sputtering at his simple statement, nose running along your cheek in a soft show of affection.

“What do you mean–” You fight to hide the shiver running down your spine at his gentle touch.

“–Are you telling me this because you want to have sex?” His words are low against your skin, something about him feeling predatory, “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Choso can’t help but feel greedy, the idea of you letting him – a demon – be your first fills him with a possessiveness he couldn’t explain in a way that wouldn’t have him looking like a huge pervert.

Your voice is shaky as you avoid answering him, “You never answer my questions…”

He huffs a small laugh, having purposefully cut you off so he didn’t have to answer, “Do you really want to know how I know?”

Something about how he looks at you, eyes glinting in the soft light of the room has you questioning if you really want to. “Is the answer going to embarrass me?”

“You?” He makes a soft sound, his thumb smooths over your throat, “Probably, you fluster easily.”

“I don’t fluster easily…” his gaze is setting your skin on fire, “…I just like you is all.”

“So you’ve said,” he mumbles out, leaning in and licking up the length of your throat where his hand just was.

The reaction he gets from you is damn near visceral, a gasp pulling from you at the sudden action. Your brain is rebooting, struggling to form words when he begins nipping at your neck. Anything you were about to say comes in the form of jumbled words and weak moans. A sound he seems to delight in if the curling of his lips against your skin is anything to go by.

“You get distracted easily,” his breath is ticklish against you, “You never answered my question.”

Did he ask a question? You suddenly can’t remember, “What was the question again?”

He laughs at your lapse in memory, “Did you want me to fuck you?”

The choice in phrasing makes you bristle, hating how he’s right that you fluster easily. He’s taking joy in how you pause at his question, obviously having asked so bluntly just to watch you squirm. Choso is patient though, happy to continue leaving marks on your delicate skin while you try to get it together enough to reply. His canines grazing over the patches of skin he’s sucked marks into, the shivers that run through you at it making him smile.

“Y– hah– yeah…” your reply is clumsy and breathy. His lips are off your neck as soon as you answer, his arms hold onto your thighs as he stands. Not expecting to be picked up you let out a refrained squeal and wrap your limbs around him tight. “A warning would’ve been nice,” you chastise him, to which he pays no mind. 

All of Choso’s focus is on getting you to your bedroom, knowing better than trying to fuck you on your couch, not for your first time anyways. And now his head is full of all the times after, will you let him take you on all the surfaces in your home? Will you pick fucking him on your couch over the completely inane show you were watching earlier?

When he reaches your bed, he leans down, aiming to gently lay you on your mattress but you’re still clinging to him. He speaks into your skin, “Trying to put you down.”

“Right…” You smile bashfully and let go, dropping the last inch onto your bed.

He’s crawling over you and moving in to kiss you softly, lips gentle as he holds you. It’s sweet and fleeting, already he’s pulling away from you to pull his shirt off. Leaving himself bare to you, his skin enticing. Only realising the meaning behind this action when his hand is trailing down to your pants, fingers dancing along your waistline. He’d taken his shirt off to ease your nerves about him undressing you.

Little glimpses of how he regards you in his actions, treating you with a kindness you’ve never felt. A concern for how you feel and how he makes you feel, all completely wordless, not feeling the need to explain himself. The fingers at your pants tickle against your skin, his eyes meeting yours and finding that you’re looking at him with borderline hearts in your eyes.

His hand slips past your waist band, tugging your pants down over your hips. You lift your legs to aid in his removal of them, feeling absurdly shy lying in front of him in nothing but a shirt and your underwear.

Palms smooth up your inner thighs, lightly pushing your legs open for him to sit between. His eyes burn into you, making you feel nervous. You try to close your legs but his hands are heavy on you, keeping them open. When you look at him, you can see his skin flushing a very pretty light pink.

“You’re so wet,” he comments, hoping to fluster you more than him.

It works because you’re squirming again, legs struggling fruitlessly against his grip, “Shuddup.”

Mindless hum coming from him as acknowledgement and you doubt it’s because he’s actually heeding your words. More so he’s had another thought and moved on, motives clear when one of his hands moves from your plush thigh and to your panties. Thumb pressing into the wet spot on them, dipping into your cunt only to tease you.

Drawing his thumb up, he presses into your clit, giving pressure against it and not much else. Small whines and stuttered breaths leaving you at his teasing, feeling completely on edge and realising he’s probably not going to stop teasing any time soon. Clearly he gets pleasure from watching you fidget and struggle to keep your noises contained.

He tortuously plays with you over your panties for too long, fingers sweeping from your clit to your hole and back too many times. Your wetness leaking into your underwear the longer he plays with you, the thin material moulding to your pussy. Hips jumping every time his finger trails over your clit, pleasure so muted that you’re growing frustrated with him.

“Choso,” you grumble at him, reaching your limit.

He barely glances at you, still playing with your pussy, “Finally found your voice?”

Bastard… he’d been waiting for you to say something. His patience almost frightening, no hurry in his movements.

“Can you… do more?” This is embarrassing, it’s your first time and he’s teasing you so cruelly, “Please?”

He smiles politely at you, “Of course.”

Bastard…

Finally, after what feels like hours, he’s tugging your panties down your legs. Foreboding smile on his face as he holds them up, thumbing over the crotch of your drenched underwear. At your disgruntled whine he discards them to some corner of your room haphazardly. Feeling so vulnerable, you go to close your legs again, the contrast between his and your state of dress something you’re too conscious of all of a sudden.

“Keep your legs open,” he chastises, hand on your knees and pushing them apart obscenely.

When he shuffles to lean down you startle, “You– you don’t have to do that…”

“You don’t want me too?” His eyebrow quirks at you.

“You won’t get anything out of it…”

He’s a little annoyed that you stopped him for such a stupid reason, “Not what I asked, do you want me to eat your pussy?”

You can’t look at him, face absurdly hot, “…Yes.”

“Worried about stupid things,” he murmurs, moving onto his stomach again. Pulling you closer to his face once he’s in place, “I’m going to enjoy this immensely.”

Stuttered gasp leaving you, he’s not waited anymore, apparently having deprived himself long enough. Maybe it’s his fault for playing with you for so long but he’s grown desperate for this, if you hadn’t let him, his heart might’ve broken. He licks through your cunt, tongue opening up your slit. Small grumbles leaving him as he drinks you down, his arms wrap around your legs and tug you open more, face pushing into you.

You’re a little worried he’s going to suffocate himself, his eagerness staggering. Just as you’re about to say something to him, his tongue is insistently pushing inside your hole. Shocked whines leaving you as he fucks you with it, his nose rubbing into your clit. You’re a twitching mess, already so pathetically close. All his teasing has made everything so much more sensitive, head fuzzy as he laps at your cunt.

One of your hands reaches down and threads through his hair, tugging on him. He doesn’t even flinch, throaty moan leaving him the only evidence that you had actually pulled on him. He’s ravenous and obsessed with how you’re fluttering around his tongue, your small whines and huffed breaths making him dizzy.

Looking down at him you hope to mumble out anything but when you’re met with his glazed over and lidded stare, your heart stumbles in your chest, pussy jumping. He looks drunk on you, his throat bobbing as he slurps down your slick. He’s messy and the sounds filling the room are wet and depraved. With how he’s fucking into you and the look on his face, you can’t tell if this is more for your benefit or his.

Cries of his name leave you, stumbling over the syllables every time his nose presses into your clit just right. Then he’s withdrawing his tongue, sad pitiful noise leaving you at the loss of getting so close. A hand leaves your thigh, single digit probing at your entrance, pushing in so carefully. His eyes locked on how you’re stretching around his finger to accommodate him, he feels like he’s going to start drooling.

Your cunt so warm and tight around his finger, his chest pulling at the thought of opening you up with his cock. The clumsy manner in which you’re calling out to him making him feel sickly fond of you, pressing a light kiss onto your inner thigh.

Unexpectedly, he praises you, “You’re pretty,” murmured low, his eyes racking over your whole form.

The compliment has you shy, it’d be so sweet if your slick wasn’t dripping down his chin. “I– thank you…” you look away from him.

He chuckles at your response, refocusing on your cunt, slowly pumping his finger in and out. Relishing in how you squirm at it, beginning to seriously doubt your ability to take him. Taking his time in opening you up, digit rubbing against your inner walls just to watch your chest stutter and hips twitch.

Not adding a second finger until your whines are pitchy and you’re relaxing around him, stuffing your little cunt full with his two big fingers. The feel of your walls clamping down on them making his dick twitch in his pants. Scissoring his two digits to stretch you open, impatient and mouth watering, he’s leaning down to lick at your pussy again. Tongue slipping in with his fingers just to get a taste of you before slurping at your clit.

You feel full and dizzy, head lolling back as he fucks into you, struggling to close your legs around his body. Free hand still holding you, pushing up to open you even more. Choso’s name leaving you through mumbles, hard to talk around your moans. The way he’s stroking your walls has you seeing stars, his tongue on your clit making your back arch.

It’s so much, not able to decide if you’re trying to roll your hips down into him or if you want to pull away. Not that you’re getting much of a choice anyways, anytime you twitch away he’s growling at you and pulling you right back down to him. The sounds of his fingers fucking into your pussy filling the room, wet slapping that would be embarrassing if you weren’t getting so close.  

The hand in his hair tugging on him again, dark moan leaving him, not stopping for a moment. He can feel how you’re squeezing down on his fingers; he can hear the way you’re skipping breaths, thighs shaking from the build-up. He doesn’t stop, even as you whine and push at him, so sensitive that your impending orgasm feels like too much. He’s not depriving you of this, he’s not depriving himself of this.

With a loud gasp and shocked whine, you’re cumming around his fingers. Almost feels like Choso purrs at how you’re contracting around him, not stopping his movements to help you ride out your high. Eventually pulling his fingers out of you only to grab onto your other thigh and pull you completely open. Mouth on your cunt before you’ve even really registered that he’s made you cum.

He lewdly slurps at your pussy, apparently having been patient about making you cum when this is what he really wanted. You’re sensitive and flinching away from him, soft whimpers leaving you, not even able to try and move away from him with how he’s holding you. The hand you have in his hair pushing at his head weakly.

“Choso– it’s– hah– too much,” your eyes feel wet and your thoughts are foggy.

He groans in disappointment but pulls back all the same, though not before blowing lightly on your clit, smile evil at your twitchy reaction. Showing mercy, he moves his head to rest against your thigh. Teeth nibbling at your skin, tongue lathing over the small marks he’s made. Finally sitting up and resting on his knees, he delights in how ruined you look. Marks he’s left on you from all his kisses on your neck, your thighs, cunt glistening with your cum and his saliva, eyes glazed, lips swollen from his kisses and how you’d been biting at them.

Readjusting, he trails his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt upwards as he goes. His eyes meet yours, checking to make sure you’re okay with his actions. You’re lifting your arms to help him take it off properly, shirt sharing the same fate as you’re other clothes and being banished to the floor.

He can’t help himself, hands groping at your tits, squeezing and pulling at you. Lightly pinching at your nipples just to make you gasp. Leaning down he lays his tongue flat over your nipple, licking at it sloppily. Messy in how he drools onto your sensitive skin, hands still pawing at the fat of your tits.

Distracted by how he’s playing with your naked body, neglecting his throbbing cock. Switching his mouth to your other nipple, teeth dragging over it lightly. His dick leaking into his pants at the shiver he pulls from you.

“Cho–” his name gets caught in your throat at how he pinches at you, back arching up into him.

The small way you called out to him seemingly enough to pull him back to, finally removing his mouth from you in an obscene display. Thin string of spit connecting his mouth to your skin, breaking when his tongue passes over his lower lip. Moving upwards, his face nuzzles into the side of your cheek, leaving soft and wet kisses against you. Fighting the urge to leave even more marks on you, instead resting his mouth next to your ear.

“You doing okay?” His breath is warm but still it sends a pleasant chill down your spine.

You nod your head at him in response to his question, not feeling sure enough of your voice to try and speak.  

A hand holds the side of your face, his lips meeting yours in a wet kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth fervently, small groan sounding from him when your hands hold onto his shoulders, appreciating your touch. He’s warm, a comforting warmth that you’re coming to crave from him. Looping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down onto you, his skin against yours.

His mouth parts from yours at the sudden shift but lets it happen, his arms scooping under and around you. Skin against yours tickling a part of your brain nicely, your legs wrap around him. Wanting him pressed up against you completely, only to whine when you’re met with the material of his pants.

Choso huffs a small laugh at your disgruntled noise, amused by your desire to have him pressed to you. He shifts to sit up but you’re clinging to him, refusing to let go. “If you want me to take off my pants I need to sit up.”

Annoyed, you let go and flop back onto the mattress. His eyes watch the way your tits move with the force of your landing and you cross your arms over them, “Take off your pants then.”

He doesn’t waste any more time, tugging his pants off hastily, like he’s suddenly been reminded of just how hard his aching cock is. It’s quick how he undresses himself, one second wearing pants and the next completely bare with his large cock in his hand. Lightly stroking himself, hissing between his teeth at the slight pressure.

Flushed a deep pink, so hard and leaking precum down the length of himself, it looks almost painful. Before you can reach out for him, a hand is pushing back on your thigh, “Need to be in you.”

You don’t even get a chance to be shy, not with the way he’s rubbing the tip of his dick between your folds. From your hole to your clit and back down again, pressing into you just slightly each time.

He speaks through his teeth, “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed,” you return.

“You’re not,” he can barely push in, too worried about hurting you.

He presses his thumb to your lips, about to ask you to lick, surprised when your lips wrap around it and suck lightly. His skin flushing a deeper pink, feeling like he’s about to melt into a puddle in front of you. A breath shudders through him as he pulls his thumb from you, reaching down and rubbing circles into your clit. You need to relax for him.

His cock probes at your entrance, carefully pushing into your gooey hole. Still so cautious of your comfortability despite the ravenous need clawing at his insides. After a bit of coaxing, he’s able to push the tip of his cock inside. Your chest seizes and your cunt clamps down against the feeling, the stretch painful enough to have you shocked but not enough to have you in legitimate pain.

Choso just about passes out, your pussy so tight around him that it takes him off guard, even more so when your hole flutters around him. He reaches out for your hand and laces your fingers together, his breaths heavy and sputtered as he tries to collect himself enough to talk you through it.

“Gotta relax,” he huffs at you, dick jerking at the pretty look on your face, “I’m gonna take my time, gonna be so careful with you, so just calm down.”

“Oh– Okay,” you can do that, you can calm down.

Choosing to focus on something else, on how his hand holds yours, on his voice soothing you. Trying hard to even your breathing, partway succeeding, enough so that you’re relaxing again. Something Choso is infinitely grateful for because he felt like he could cum from the tight grip of your cunt and the cute look of your pinched brows alone. He’s so patient with you, waiting until you tell him it’s okay before even thinking of moving again.

Voice still shaky when you tell him, “Y–You can move, Choso.”

He grunts at you, an acknowledgement that he’s heard you. Hips slow as he sinks in more, breath catching at how you react to him. Thumb back on your clit to help you take him more, only getting about halfway before your free hand is pushing back on his chest. Immediately he stops, not wanting to push you past your limits. Your hand is gripping his tight, it makes his heart tug, his hand squeezing back at yours.

“You’re doing s–so– hah– good,” he coos at you.

Aiming to help but his voice is breaking and needy and the only thing it does is make your pussy flutter around his achingly hard dick. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head at the feel of your slick walls.

Glancing down, you worry, “I don’t th– think I’m gonna be able to take it all.”

You sound so concerned about not fully taking him and he can’t help but chuckle breathlessly at it, “That’s okay, this much is enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, “You okay if I move?”

Nodding at him, “Yeah, you can move.”

Drawing his hips back, he hisses through his teeth, brows scrunched as he focuses on his movements. Careful as he starts a pace he thinks you’ll be able to handle, fucking you on half of his cock. Even this much has his head spinning, addicted to the feel of your plush cunt sucking him in. Relishing in the sound of your rapid heartbeat and stifled whimpers, your hand unravels from his to grip the sheets. He takes the chance to hold you open, more control over his pace this way.

Incoherent whines tumble from your lips, words not even close to comprehensible. Desperate need resting inside your chest suddenly, you want all of him, you want to feel stuffed to the brim. Trying to convey it is hard, especially when just half his dick has your brain scrambled and fuzzy.

“C–Cho– more,” stumbled and huffed but clear enough, “Please.”

He hesitates, “I don’t think–”

“–Please~” you whine out to him, plead stretching long with your gasped moans.

He can’t help but cave when he looks at you and sees your cute expression, unshed tears sitting pretty on your lashes. Giving you what you want and fucking into you, stuffing more of his cock inside your tight hole each time he thrusts in. He feels like this might be as close to heaven as he’s ever going to get, opening you up on his fat dick while you tremble under him.  

Choso’s beginning to feel like a mess with how you’re squeezing him, so tight his balls ache. Your staggered breath and absent gaze driving him crazy. Skin glowing with a sheen of perspiration while your eyes roll. His cock hitting so deep inside you your breath hitches when he’s finally balls deep, you could almost could swear he’s in your ribcage.  

Your toes curl and your head lolls back, drooling at how it feels to be this fucking full, your mind truly slipping through your fingers and he hasn’t even begun fucking you proper yet. Before he moves he grips your hips, fingers digging into the fat there, enjoying how soft you are. Drawing back cautiously to make sure he doesn’t do anything to hurt you and upon realising you’re basically already fucked dumb finds himself thrusting back inside you. The force of it rocking you, fingers gripping the sheets tight as you moan pathetically.

Setting a rabid pace, he finally lets himself fuck into you how he craves. Hands gripping your skin while he stuffs your sensitive pussy, your lips bulging around his thick length, struggling to take him. Beyond turned on with how good it feels, obscene and wet slapping resounding from the room, along with the pitiful sounds you manage to let slip.

Beginning to feel like he’s fucking you to borderline insanity, his or yours he can’t ascertain, all he knows is that he’s obsessed with the slick heat of your cunt. Effectively pussy drunk and if he thought he wasn’t leaving your side before he sure as hell isn’t now, not willing to give up something as sweet as you. It’s funny how you’ve basically pussy whipped him without even trying or knowing.

“Feel s–so– fuck– feel so good,” he gasps at you, needing you to know just how perfect you are.

His hands move from your hips to anywhere else he can grab, handsy as he gropes at you, wanting to touch you everywhere he possibly can. Eventually landing on wrapping around you and pulling you up, the position having you sinking down on his cock more. Sputtered moans leaving you at the sudden change, arms looping around his neck and scrabbling at his back, nails no doubt leaving marks.

Chest to chest, skin contact that has a shiver running down your spine pleasantly. You wish you could tell him how good he’s making you feel, how close you’re getting, how fuzzy your brain feels but the words won’t come. Instead settling for whimpering into his shoulder, drooling on him slightly.

His hands travel lower and grab at your thighs wrapped around him, pulling you further open and using his grip to use you like a sex toy. Fucking you so deliciously and easily that you feel like the room is spinning. Your mouth latches onto his neck, leaving behind dark marks, something for your mouth to do beside crying out his name uselessly. Not that he particularly minded, enjoying immensely how wrecked you sounded as you cried out for him.

He notices the way your breath catches and nails dig into him more, getting close to cumming. Something he wants desperately, his thrusts more forceful, excited at the thought of you gripping him sinfully tight.

“You been doing so good,” he breathes, “Just let go for me.”

The words spoken against your ear sends a tingle through your body, muscles pulling tight like you’re getting ready for impact. Your whimpers pitchy as you twitch in his grasp, your nails nearly making him bleed. You’re cumming around him so perfectly, falling apart in his hands, squirming and hips jumping. Cunt so fucking tight he swears he’s gone to heaven, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moans shamelessly. His teeth bite into your neck, lathing over the wound quickly healing any blood he might’ve drawn with the action.

Hips jerking up into you as he fucks you through it, your orgasm ultimately triggering his. Shuddering as he cums inside you, filling you to the brim with it. His blood boiling as he continues to fuck you through his high, all too happy to let it leak out of you.

His unstopping thrusts pushing more of your combined mess out around his dick with lewd squelching noises. Sheets all sticky, evidence of how messily he’d fucked you. When you mumble at him he stops thrusting into you, somewhat begrudgingly, all too willing to force you and him into overstimulation.

Instead of pulling out and placing you down, he stays seated inside you and lays on his back. Leaving you laying on top of him, his arms around you again, embracing you. You’d snuggle into him more but you’re still not sure you’re in your body, limbs all so heavy.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he sounds sheepish when he speaks into the top of your head.

You hum at him in disagreement, “Was good.”

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he asks, “Want to get cleaned up?”

“You’re gonna have to give me a bit, I don’t think I can move yet…” your eyes feel tired, “…Or today.” It feels like he grows warmer at your comment and you smile lazily.

Maybe he should feel more concerned over how fond of you he’s grown but as you drift off on top of him, snoozing so peacefully, he really can’t find it in himself to care.

𝐀/𝐍: i put my whole visussy into this fic ngl and i had so much more i wanted to add/do to it but it quite literally sucked motivation away from my soul. if you guys have questions about the story though you're more than welcome to ask ! i literally had SO many notes for this fic and while i don't think it's the best thing i've written i am obscenely happy to have finished it and i hope you guys like it !!! thanks for reading <333

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision ★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances

[genderqueerdykes]

trans men and women learn a lot from each other when we get close and it's a wonderful thing. it's okay to be dysphoric about manhood. it's okay to be dysphoric about womanhood. it's okay to not like he/him pronouns, to not like she/her pronouns. it's okay to not like how strangers gender you. it's okay to talk about these things with each other, to share mutual disgust, to see how it affects one another and how it shapes our identities and experiences.

it's okay to talk about the things that make you uncomfortable together. it's not invalidating each other's experiences to have conversations like saying "i'm so tired of being seen as a man no matter what, and being around people who treat me like a man" to a trans man and having the trans man respond by saying "i feel the same way about people who treat me like a woman" and agree to not project one's trauma on to the other

it's okay to be vulnerable. it's okay to admit when we don't understand certain parts of each others experiences, too. we do NOT have to act like experts and like we've "read the book" on what another person's gender is. even if we think we know a lot about that gender, we don't know everything, because we don't know everyone. literally. it's okay to go "i don't understand, but I'll call you whatever you identify as." and be receptive without knowing exactly what they mean.

we don't understand many things in life. that's fine. it's okay to just listen and not talk for once. you don't have to try to speak as though you've lived as a trans man when you're a trans women, and you don't have to speak for trans women if you're a trans man. we are allowed to advocate for our own experiences and simultaneously listen to other queer experiences and respect their boundaries, spaces, and needs.

there is a lot to learn about the challenges that trans women face, the unique struggles that come with some being raised as boys and the troubles that come with that, being seen as a feminine boy, being subjected to homophobia- getting called faggots and other slurs. some were raised as girls, some are intersex, and some are afab or other birth sexes, and the mixing of masculinity and femininity and cause a lot of issues when it comes to how society treats that person

there are lots of conversations that have to be listened to when it comes to the transmasculine experience and how nobody but transmasc people can articulate what it's like to live as a transmasculine person. no one can speculate on it, because it is such a unique experience. it is a complicated matter of several different types of prejudice that no one else can quite understand where it comes from and how it feels unless they've been there

it is so deeply rooted in misogyny, where people treat us like "stupid, confused women," like we're "destroying children" that we're 'destroying our bodies', that our hormones make us "unstable, irritable and emotional," and that we are unreliable narrators. we get called hysterical. we get told we're "ruining a pretty girl" or wasting our "pretty" features. we get lectured about how we need to be attractive and how testosterone will ruin that by our own parents. we get told we can't dress masc because it will make us "ugly" or "butch" or "dykes".

people hate it when we bind our breasts, cut our hair, hide our curves, change our gait, and stop wearing makeup. they lose a "girl" to ogle and become enraged, upset or uncomfortable. while the transmasc person is trying to navigate life in a way where they don't feel objectified, it becomes a matter of even worse objectification because now antimasculism is introduced into the mix and the experience becomes transandrophobia.

people are so hateful and bitter toward manhood and masculinity. people ask us "why would you EVER want to be a man? NOBODY wants to be a man." they tell us "men are ugly, violent, and mean." people tell us that men are sexual predators, that they're inherently abusive. people tell us that testosterone makes people ugly. they tell us that men aren't or can't be queer. they tell us we can't be a feminine man. they tell us we can't be men at all, that transmasculinity isn't even a thing, that transmanhood isn't a thing. we even get told that the only way to be trans is to be transfeminine, and what we are experiencing is a delusion, hysteria, or a result of us being hormonal from being on our periods and/or HRT.

when we listen to each others' experiences we realize how people who are othered by society are treated. we learn that not only we experiencing this, but so is everyone around us. we do not have to try to make one side's experience more important than another's. we can hold each other up by having conversations and being vulnerable about what's going on, how we're being treated, how we want to be treated, and how the community is failing us and how we can do better.

we deserve to have conversations. there's a lot to learn, a lot to laugh about, a lot to relate to, and a lot to be curious about. these conversations are good to have. it's good to admit when you know nothing about transmasculinity or transfemininity or any other identity. it's okay to ask respectful questions. it's okay to tell people when you appreciate their identities, and them explaining it to you. it's okay to just listen. it really is. we have to learn to listen it's not something that can be avoided perpetually for life. listening to someone else's conversation does not erase yours, it does not take it away from the equation. they exist together.

[aethersea]

I've always wanted to learn bookbinding, ever since I was a wee little nerd, but there are a lot of things I've always wanted to learn, and this one has both a daunting upfront materials cost and a daunting upfront research cost. however, my sister is a jewel among siblings and gave me for christmas last year a handy dandy bookbinding manual, a block of good paper, and a little bag of tools.

but I still didn't have a suitable workspace, nor any of the many important tools and materials that she didn't include in her gift. so I just read the manual and pined. until maybe a month ago I got fed up with pining, flattened a cardboard box for a cutting mat, and went to town.

and I'm real proud of myself, so here's me rambling, plus photos!

I went to the thrift store and got glue + some fabric to bind the cover, went to Michaels for a paintbrush (and later went back for a metal ruler lmao it's amazing how useful it is to have a straightedge for cutting the paper), and...could not find material for the cover boards. so I went home and pined some more. but the urges were too strong, so after a couple hours of moping I got a stack of printer paper at the grocery store (I could not bring myself to use the good paper for my first, inevitably weak attempts, I just couldn't do it) and started making a little booklet. which was a great idea, it turned out, since it makes for good practice with cutting the paper, measuring things, punching holes in the signatures, etc.

I have a big box of greeting cards from Michaels, which I used for the covers. it didn't feel like I was making a Real Book, so I got some colored paper from the stationery store and used that for end papers.

so fancy~

galvanized by this success, I ordered a stack of chipboard online to use for cover boards; and once I was confident that I could cut paper without making it look too stupid (getting that straightedge ruler sure helped lol), I made signatures out of the good paper, left them under some heavy books overnight since I don't have a book press, and then punched holes in them! (huzzah for this nice video on getting the holes right)

my sister's gift included good linen thread. it's unwaxed, but after some poking around on r/bookbinding it looks like that just means I'll have to be more careful to avoid tangles and keep good tension. I am fine with this. I can be extra attentive. (I considered just running it over a beeswax candle, but one commenter said if your wax has paraffin in it, it could melt in a hot car, ruining the spine. I can't guarantee my candle is 100% beeswax, I didn't make it, so maybe we just move on.)

I don't have good linen fabric to use for the tapes, but the important part there is that the fabric be thin, sturdy, and not stretchy. the probably-cotton I got from the thrift store fits the bill, so it'll do!

this is a french link stitch, which I got from this exceedingly good tutorial. apparently it's strong enough on its own that for a book of this size, I don't actually need tapes, but I'd already cut the things so eh here we are. and tapes plus french link will make it a stronger binding still (according to a friendly redditor on r/bookbinding), so we carry on.

specifically we carry on to the gluing step. now as I mentioned, I do not have a book press, and you....kinda need one for this step. you need to hold the book block in place with the signatures facing upwards, pressed together hard enough that the glue won't run down between them and stick the pages together (though you do want the glue to get between them just a little, just for like a 16th of an inch). you at least need some clamps and a couple boards to sandwich the book block with.

but you know what? I'm not a professional, this is my first ever book, if it's a little bit off it'll be fine. so we grab all the heaviest books off the bookshelf and improvise.

it's fine! I'm sure it's fine! and just in case it's not, I've tucked a bit of cardboard underneath to catch any glue that drips down so it won't land on the floor. see? I'm prepared! I'm acing this.

and actually, it really was fine. I used clear elmer's glue, applied with a flat paintbrush from the art supplies aisle at Michael's, and frankly I liked the way the flat paintbrush let me slip glue in between the signatures. I did poke around on a couple bookbinding sites to see what kind of glue I should use, and the gist is that although there are better options than this, elmer's glue is perfectly serviceable, and the main downside is it's not archival grade. but I don't need my first bookbinding attempts to last 200 years, that's fine.

the next step is to add the mull. mull is a specific type of fabric – extremely loose-weave linen – and the idea is to paste it down over the spine to essentially hold the tapes and signatures all in place in relation to each other.

but I don't have mull! so I'm using more of the thrift store probably-cotton, because it's thin enough and not really stretchy at all. I'm sure this will be fine too. I painted a layer of glue onto the spine, then left it to dry a bit while I measured and cut the fabric, then painted a generous stripe of glue down the center, where it'll affix onto the spine. then I added a bit more glue to the spine, just to be sure, and pressed the mull into place, rubbing it thoroughly to make sure it's firmly affixed to every signature, with no creases in the fabric or air bubbles beneath it.

honestly I might have overdone it on the glue. I've never done this before, I don't know! I think it's okay, though – I tried not to ever let it become a thick layer, just a slight coating, since the danger of too much glue is that it might crack once dry and weaken the spine.

and now we leave it in the press overnight to dry, and pick up the next step in the morning!

[for-ests]

Hi! This is a request for sukuna x concubine! reader, sorry if it's a bit all over the place - it's just a silly idea jdjsjajsk

Sukuna calls a shy concubine for the first time. She's nervous, but upon entering his chambers, a book about astronomy catches her eye (since he has many books and scrolls). He notices her interest and is intrigued, perhaps because his concubines are raised to have no interests other than pleasing Sukuna

tysm for the request ^^ im not sure if u wanted this to be NSFW or not, but I wanted to attempt Sukuna fluff. (never thought I would say that) but, I hope you enjoy! (I am so not used to writing a shy reader or something this short so bear with me) <3 requests are still open! wc: 1.5k warnings: none!

The first time Sukuna called you to his chambers should have excited you beyond belief, but instead, it made you incredibly nervous. 

You were adorned in your best Kimono, perfectly painted makeup, and hair styled to accentuate your alluring features. You felt beautiful, and you knew you looked the part. Hours had been spent on your appearance the second your servant caught wind of Sukuna’s request. 

And now that you were standing at his door, your heart was pounding. You knew your purpose; you knew your place. But what if you failed to please your master? Instinctively, you shied away from his advances, opting to serve him in other ways. Surprisingly, there were many tasks and chores to complete daily as a concubine, which you weren’t aware of before Sukuna selected you among the other noble women from your faction. 

This was the first time you would be utterly alone with the King of Curses, and it made your stomach twist into knots. 

“You requested me, Sukuna-Sama?” you squeaked, already blushing from the intensity of his gaze. 

A long silence stretched between you, but all he did was stare, taking in all you had to offer. 

“I realized I still have yet to spend a night alone with you, “ he finally replied. 

Sukuna loathed the meek. You seemed to be the only woman he bothered to tolerate, and he didn’t know why. If anything, it just made you cute because he knew you weren’t dumb. You followed your orders, you served him with grace, and the way you danced was unlike the rest. On the stage, you were a completely different woman. 

But off the stage, you were as shy as they came. 

His eyes were ravenous as he watched you approach his bookshelf. Despite his own desires and your intended purpose, something about you intrigued him—notably, that curious glint in your eyes with the desperation to discover more. 

“I was not aware you kept so many records." Your voice was almost a whisper, partly out of respect and awe.

“Taken from my conquests.” 

“As expected,” you replied somewhat meekly, eyes drifting back to the wall of books and scrolls. One in particular caught your eyes, the binding resembling a constellation you were familiar with. 

Hesitantly, you glanced at him, waiting for permission to tug the book from its rightful place amongst the rest. 

Sukuna nodded, sighing deeply before leaning back into the corner of his room, legs, and arms crossed as he watched you explore. 

The intended cushion for you still remained empty. You could feel it, and Sukuna's bloodlust calling for you to at least join him. With the book in your hand, flipping the first page, you gave in and sat across from him, knees perfectly tucked in like you were taught from a young age. 

The book lay halfway open on the floor between the two of you. And finally, you gained the courage to meet his eyes, pleading for permission. 

“Astrology?” The King of Curses bemused, reaching for a sip of his sake. If that’s what you wanted, he would grant it. There was no harm in having his concubines be somewhat knowledgable about something, despite what other kings and lords agreed, despite what they claimed about him. 

There was a reason why he had so many women flocking to him despite his appearance and dominance. They actually enjoyed his protection and offerings. It was the best place in the country for a curious woman like you to explore and indulge. As long as you excited him, of course. But, he enjoyed the variety, and you undoubtedly provided him with that. 

“Can you read?” he asked from your silence and timid glances. You were so incredibly meek it astonished him, so much so he couldn’t tell if you were waiting for permission or for him to explain the words to you. 

“Yes, my Lord.” You bowed your head slightly, managing to peek at him through your eyelashes. 

“Finish it,” he paused as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “And it’s yours.” 

There was no way to stop the way your mouth dropped open. The surprise was evident in how your eyes widened, your loss for words, and the sudden bashfulness that etched into your expression. 

“Do wish for my body in exchan—”

“No,” Sukuna interrupted, exhaling as if he anticipated your question. “Despite any rumors you may have heard, I’m not fond of forcing a woman to be with me.” 

You could not hide your astonishment. It was like you could feel your timidity fading away into the nighttime breeze that wafted through the door to his private garden. 

“It bores me," he sighed. “If you’re not ready, that is fine.” 

“My Lord,” you rushed, the honorific rolling off your tongue with a hint of approval and submission you didn’t expect to find tonight. The surprise of it all made you lose your train of thought and all your responses to it. 

“Out with it,” he rolled his eyes. 

You chose your words carefully this time, unable to look at him until after your sentence was finished. “Are you claiming that aquiring knowledge is more important than sex?” 

“I never said that,” he replied quickly but smirked. “If you wish, you can visit me to read instead, until you are ready for more.” 

Sukuna didn’t need to dominate his concubines every single night. A companion would be appreciated for the days he wished for peace and quiet—which was rare but still happened occasionally. The way you danced was enough to entertain him. And there were plenty of other women who could satiate his hunger differently. 

For your own comfort, along with his amusement, he felt an introductory offer was needed. Of course, he wanted you; he wanted everything about you and your submission. But what Sukuna learned over the years was very important—it wasn’t just about his pleasure. He could easily kill you, and he knew it, but the human part of him also wanted you to crave him in the same way. 

And if that took granting you access to his literature, so be it.

Biting your lip, you reached for the sake bottle and filled his empty glass as a thank you. You were there to serve him, and it was comical how miserably you failed to provide him the requested service. But there was no use in denying how excited you were. The last thing you expected was this. It wasn’t just permission he gave you; it was respect. Even in its slightest form, it was enough. 

“Once you learn about the stars, you must teach them to me.” 

Once he took his first satisfactory sip, you replied, “Do you not know the stars, Sukuna-Sama?” 

His boisterous chuckle surprised you and made you flinch in surprise. You couldn’t recall a moment where he had ever laughed, let alone smirk devilishly so. But perhaps he reserved this side of him for late-night discussions. The thought of him teasing you hardly mattered; what mattered was that he was listening to you. 

“Of course I do, concubine.” Sukuna took another sip. “But I wouldn’t mind testing you for my enjoyment.” 

“That only makes me want to study more.” 

“Good. For every question you get wrong, I get to claim a piece of you.” 

The most vigorous flush of emotions you’d ever felt rushed through you, appearing on your cheeks despite how your face was painted with makeup. Any attempt to mask was futile. It may be beneficial to just be yourself, as he already seemed tolerant enough. 

“I would appreciate that.” 

Sukuna laughed again, watching as your body relaxed. Shifting your legs to emerge from your Kimono and onto your side, you flipped back to the first page, scanning over the first page of documentation. It was exhilarating, and you didn’t want to stop. 

Sukuna’s hands reached out, guiding yours to the first page of information, scribbles, and many mystifying illustrations. “Start here, woman.” 

“My apologies.” 

Rolling his eyes once again, Sukuna took another swing of his liquor and leaned back to a more comfortable position. “Eventually, you will let me have you,” he started, relishing in the sake burning down his throat. Undoubtedly, he would need bottles of it to keep his hands off of you. “You’re too interesting to waste.” 

“That was never out of the question, my Lord.” 

Appreciative of your constant honorifics, he nodded at you. “Now, sit there and read to me. I’m too tired for anything else.”  

And that was what you did until he moved to rest his head in your lap, eyes finally closing in response to your lullaby, the softness of your voice beckoning him to tranquility. Eventually, uneven breaths filled your ears, and his head slacked entierly against you.

Did you make the King of Curses fall asleep from your voice alone?

Technically, you were trapped under his weight but didn't mind. Not when he was this peaceful, this handsome. And when your curiosity got the best of you, he only sighed in admission to the faint touch of your fingers tracing over his facial tattoos.  

A cycle that repeated itself for months until it became your secret tradition.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM THE SERPENT AND THE WINGS OF NIGHT *  assorted dialogue from the book by carissa broadbent, adjust as necessary

i would beg. for you, i would.

you have fucking destroyed me, [name]. do you know that?

death isn't frightening when weighed against an insignificant existence.

i've lived through some injustices in the last couple of centuries.

a dead lover can never break your heart.

so many mistakes in the end. never you.

i give you my body. i give you my blood. i give you my soul. i give you my heart.

your soul is my soul.

i bind myself to you.

i wanted it to all be a lie. but it was not a lie.

never trust. never yield. always guard your heart.

vampires know better than anyone how important it is to protect their hearts.

love is sharper than any stake.

fear, when embraced, hardens and sharpens.

i would not die here.

don't fucking touch her.

there she is.

you are the most stunning thing i've ever seen, [name].

no one has ever said those words to me.

here's how you stay alive.

maybe our skin doesn't scar the same as yours, but our hearts do.

are you going to kill me, [name]?

you might destroy me anyway.

i would beg for you.

don't be so quick to throw away your humanity.

you might find you miss it once it's gone.

don't you fucking dare stop fighting.

it would break my heart.

nothing matters but this.

once you win, the world is yours.

this is the time for conquering.

you don't give an inch, do you?

why would he do this?

you smell like the sky.

i only know how to fight.

i can't take credit for everything that you've become.

fear is a collection of physical responses.

i love it, really, truly love it, when they underestimate me.

you're sweet. prickly, but sweet. in an acidic sort of way. like a pineapple.

love is a sacrifice at the altar of power.

you don't even know the things i've thought about.

there you are.

i used to be one of them.

i've saved your life twice now.

you're a demanding little thing, aren't you?

you aren't my prisoner.

i don't like feeling things.

i'm done hating myself for all my human weaknesses.

i will never be able to carve you from my heart. you are embedded too deep.

[sits-bound]

One year of fanbinding!

I keep thinking "I'm really new at this still" but I guess after a year, it's like, you don't have a puppy anymore, you have a dog. So now I'm in the dog phase of this hobby.

(I didn't make all of these, some were acquired in exchanges.)

In the past year, I have made around 54 books. (For the purposes of my sanity, I am not counting journals or sketchbooks, nor am I counting author/artist copies if the design was the same.)

54 books! In 52 weeks! That's basically a book a week!

Which binds are my favorites?

Ooh, that's hard. I tried to limit myself here, but these all are very special to me.

And I can't choose just one of these:

Honorable mention goes to this one, but I didn't design the typeset, so I can't take all the credit. But I do love the cover.

What's my favorite part of making books?

It's not surprising to me that typesetting is my favorite part. I designed a book for a local museum in 2007, and loved the process. Before that, I wanted to work in editorial design (I had a few jobs doing that in and after college, but that was in the olden days.)

I enjoy the part of physically creating the book too, but I find it a bit more frustrating. I'm not detail-oriented enough to make sure everything is perfect, and then I get frustrated when an endpaper is glued on slightly crookedly, or my text block isn't perfectly square. (Not that I have anyone to blame but myself!) That said, holding a completed book in my hands is the most satisfying feeling, after actually reading said book. I feel so smug when I'm reading a book I created.

I have a lot of imposter syndrome when it comes to the actual designing of covers. I know my strengths lie in manipulating existing content instead of creating it from scratch. So I need to stop comparing myself to other creators, and just do my best. We all have different styles, I tell myself.

What's next?

I'd like to learn how to sew endbands for once and for all. I have tried and given up in disgust so many times. I have watched so many videos and read many tutorials, and I just need someone to come to my house and show me in person.

I also would like to try to learn how to draw, a bit. I know I'll never be great at it, but I've also never tried to learn. I will be off work for a few months later this summer/fall, and I'd like to use that time taking some classes. Even if I could just draw designs to use on my covers, I'd be happy. I don't expect to be able to draw things or people.

I wanted to take up this hobby for a long time before I actually did it. I read through @armoredsuperheavy's guide like eighteen times before I worked up the courage to actually use it. So my advice to all of the people who tag my posts with "i wish i could do this" and "i want to do this"…do it!

[kiwicopia]

MDNI | Themetober: Contract

Warlock!Zayne x Frost Goddess!Reader

CW: DnD-ish setting, slight temperature play, soul binding via sex, squirting, reader is fucked on a throne, cowgirl at the end, creampie.

tags: @sweetchildcloud

Themetober Masterlist

Coming from a family of highly respected warlocks, where each member had been born with their magical gifts, he was the only one who had not been born with magical talent. This led to a rather difficult upbringing, with countless trials and dangerous errors that were to see if he had simply been a late bloomer. However, the truth hung heavy over him—he was an outlier in the family—but it only drove him to seek alternatives. That ambition and desire for magic was what led him to you.

The many books and scrolls he scoured in his family’s extensive library did little with the description of you and your beauty. The man expected the frost goddess to be a creature made entirely of ice, or even something more along the lines of a half-decayed, frozen corpse. Not a beautiful woman draped in elegant furs, sitting atop her throne of ice. It was as if you had been waiting for him. 

“Traveler, why do you tread upon my domain?” Gods above, even your voice caught him off-guard. So heavenly and sweet to his ears. He watched as you shifted in your seat, switching positions as one leg crossed over the other. “You seek something, do you not?” 

Nodding slowly, he stepped forward, still keeping his gaze locked with yours. “Power,” the man answered. The light in your eyes was evident, as was the amused smile that graced your delicate lips. “I desire power.” 

Your eyes squinted slightly as you slowly looked him up and down, assessing him a bit more now that he was closer. “Power?” You questioned. Silence followed shortly after as you continued staring at him, and he watched as your legs switched places with one another. “Then you must know that what you seek comes with a price.” 

“I am aware,” Zayne replied. His readings into alternatives for harnessing magic was what led him to come across pacts. Making one with certain creatures would grant the user the magic they so desperately sought. However, choosing a creature to do that with was rather important. Many beings of the supernatural were cunning and no-good. If one did not think clearly, they could lose more than they desired to gain. 

He was aware. A small hum fell from your lips in response as your body leaned forward a little, with your arms flat against the armrests of your icy throne. “A pact is what you seek.” Zayne watched as you rose from your seat and descended the small, snow-covered steps as you made your way down to him. “Then allow me to give you that which you so desperately desire.” 

Most patrons sealed their pacts in simple ways: handshakes, substance consumption, a kiss, or even the simplicity of a worded agreement. The written word never detailed your means of enacting a pact, which he assumed was along the lines of either a handshake or a verbal agreement—but oh, how wrong he was about that. 

You sat back on your throne, with your legs spread wide as he fucked into you. Zayne kept one hand gripping the armrest of the throne while the other cupped the underside of your thigh, angling your leg back slightly—just enough for him to reach deep into your cunt. Your velvety walls had his cock in an icy grip, and the sheer cold seeping from your body and into his not only made him shiver, but twitch at how much he liked the feeling. A deity of pure, raw ice—an element he admired since he was a child, and his reason for wanting you as his patron. 

A moan snapped him from his thoughts as he focused on you now. Half-lidded eyes, parted lips that panted with every hard and fast thrust—it drove him wilder than he liked to believe. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the icy touch sent a wave of shivers down his spine while his cock throbbed inside your slick cunt. 

“Faster,” you demanded. 

His hips obeyed, smacking harshly against yours repeatedly while groaning at the way you clenched around him every so often. It was a heavenly feeling, and one he knew would never have been obtained if he had been born with magical talent. Zayne wasn’t too pious of a man, but he silently thanked whatever deity above stripped that gene from his genetic makeup when born. 

Another moan fell from your lips, and he groaned a bit harshly when your nails dug into the warm flesh of his cheek, but he loved it. Your delicious noises and icy touch had him wrapped around you, and the contract hadn’t even been completed yet. 

His body shifted forward a little as he moved his other hand beneath your thigh, gripping the plump flesh as he steadily leaned your legs back. This position was better, with your ankles at your ears, allowing his cock to penetrate you deeper and with more ease. 

Zayne watched your head fall back, resting against the thick fur that lined the back of your shoulders. “So beautiful,” he whispered. His breaths came out in quick huffs, and his brows creased as a sudden thought formed in his mind. Without warning, his hands quickly and carefully—without slipping out of you—pulled you up, switching your positions so that you sat in his lap while he sat back in your throne. 

A surprise, truly, but one you savored as his hips bucked up, ramming his dick up into you at a relentless pace. Your arms had to wrap around his neck to keep yourself steady as his hard length bullied your pussy. “Such boldness,” you whispered, only to let out a moan shortly afterward. The man groaned again, his hands roaming over your cold body before finding solace at your hips. “My power will be yours. Every ounce at your disposal.” 

Your hips brushed forward as your chest pressed up against his, and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The warmth of his skin was chilled at the touch, and his digits dug into your flesh as he began to slam you down onto him the at the same time in which he thrusted up into you. The added pleasure clawed at your core—a feeling you hadn’t experienced in centuries—and you craved more of it. You craved more of him. 

Zayne’s hips sputtered slightly, his thrusts falling out of rhythm as he neared his release. He had never thought that one day he would fuck a goddess, let alone spilling himself inside of one—but he also never thought that he would make a pact with one, either. He soon came without warning, having slammed you down on him while he bucked up into you one final time, groaning as his white, hot seed spurted out against your awaiting walls. 

Your arms tightened around his neck in response, and ice seeped from your body and onto his as you cried out in pure ecstasy while gushing around him. The crackling of the element only made him want to continue his movements, albeit slower now, until he finally pulled out, causing his cum and your juices to dribble from your cunt and down the curves of your ass. 

He still held you in his lap, and his grip on your hips loosened when you shifted slightly. Zayne’s hazel green eyes locked onto your own, and the ice that had seeped onto his body earlier slowly retracted back into yours. “The pact has been made,” you told him. 

He nodded, but still, there was a certain question that still nagged at his brain for an answer. “I’ve never read of a patron using this as a form of pact agreement.” 

“Mortal writing is outdated,” you chuckled. Your hand cupped his face before giving it a slight squeeze. “Though fret not. Pacts with me do not come easily for those that desire it. I am a patron only to those who I deem worthy.” Your face inched closer to his. “And you, sweet mortal, have proved yourself to be fit enough to bestow my power unto you.” Zayne hummed softly in response. “Your soul is now tethered to mine. Consider this contract signed.” 

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Eight

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Eight: Raft

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) work on getting everyone off the island, but that is never the end of their troubles.

            Day three of being shipwrecked led to the return of Saiko and his ego. Kuboyasu and Kaidou had, overnight, gotten him to eat and help the group. “Helping,” unfortunately, meant ordering them around.

            “Now work, peons,” said Saiko. “We’re going to finish this today. Chin peon and god of peons, stop cutting wood, start building. And you—”

            “You help too!” said Kuboyasu.

            “I’m supervising,” said Saiko. “I keep things moving along efficiently.”

            “And get the fruits of our efforts like capitalists,” said (Y/N), humming and binding the wood together.

            “You just want it is!” agreed Kuboyasu.

            “You want me to help? Then get on your knees and beg for my help,” said Saiko.

            “We don’t need your help!” decided Kuboyasu. He didn’t beg.

            “It’s going so much faster ever since Saiko showed up,” admitted Yumehara.

            “Because the other guys are angry,” laughed (Y/N).

            “At least he came back to…help,” said Teruhashi.

            Together, they continued with the raft, making slow and steady progress until they were winded and needed at least a quick break.

            “By the way, who will ride on the raft?” said Saiko.

            Instantly, Saiko and (Y/N)’s plan to teleport everyone out on the sea shattered.

            “What? All of us will,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Why does everyone need to go?” said Saiko.

            “We all need to be saved?” said (Y/N).

            “Are you saying you want to leave someone behind?” Nendou was furious, and Kaidou grabbed him.

            “Calm down, Nendou!” said Kaidou.

            Nendou threw Kaidou off him, and (Y/N) watched him spin through the air and hit the sand.

            “Impressive throw,” they remarked.

            Nendou grabbed Saiko’s collar. “You’ve got to be kidding me! How could you even say that? We all worked hard together to get this far.”

            “That’s now what I mean.” Saiko pushed Nendou back. “The people on the raft can send help back once they’re rescued. And what if help reaches the island first while we’re all on the raft? Leaving a group in both places ensures our odds.”

            “I get it! You’re smart.” Nendou accepted the explanation in a moment.

            “You’re right,” said Kuboyasu. “We don’t need everyone to go.”

            “I wonder why we thought we all had to go,” said Yumehara.

            Uh-oh. (Y/N) and Saiki looked at each other.

            “Oh, well. Let’s get some lunch and decide later!” said Kaidou. Everyone agreed easily.

            Uh-oh.

l

            “Now, let’s talk about who will ride on the raft,” said Kaidou once they’d all eaten. “So, is there anyone who wants to go?”

            There was silence, which wasn’t surprising because it was safer on the island. No one was going to volunteer to go into danger.

            “Me! I want to go on the raft!” said Nendou.

            Or, at least, no one intelligent.

            “Then you’re definitely on, Nendou,” said Kaidou.

            “Yes!” cheered Nendou.

            “Well, us men should probably go,” said Kuboyasu, brave as ever. “I don’t mind going.”

            “How about all the guys go to be fair? And the girls and (L/N) can stay safe on the island,” suggested Kaidou.

            I want (Y/N) to be with me, thought Saiki. He could keep them safe that way.

            “Not, it’s too many people on the raft,” said Saiko. “Weight will be an issue. You only need four people on the raft. So I’ll stay.”

            “You just want to stay with the girls and (L/N)!” shouted Kuboyasu accusatorily.

            “That way, my lineage is protected if you don’t make it back,” said Saiko. “If anyone’s DNA should survive, it should be mine.”

            “Ew,” said (Y/N).

            “No.”

            “You’re going with us,” said Kuboyasu decisively.

            “Then what? We don’t need five people on the raft, and the girls won’t be safe,” said Saiko.

            “I’m here to look out for them,” said (Y/N).

            “What if there’s a threat?” said Saiko.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll handle it.”

            “But—”

            “I’ll handle it.”

            Saiki remembered the time (Y/N) hit a rude boy at the beach. He had no doubt that they could handle it.

            “I’d rather be on the raft,” said Mera.

            “Why?” said Kaidou.

            “I’ve caused all of you so much trouble here, so I want to give back in some way,” said Mera.

            “Oh. Okay.” Everyone winced at the memory. No one could disagree.

            “Then there will be more people on the raft,” said Kaidou.

            “Maybe you could stay behind, Kaidou?” suggested Yumehara.

            “Why me?” said Kaidou.

            Yumehara blushed and panicked. “Why, well—Um, you know, you’re weak like a girl, and you get seasick!”

            Wow, that was bad, thought (Y/N).

            Kaidou wiped his eyes of tears as his pride was broken. “I’m getting on the raft.”

            “Why?” said Kuboyasu.

            “Shut up, idiot, I’ll go,” said Kaidou.

            “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you,” said Yumehara. “I just really—Oh, fine, I’ll get on, too!”

            “Perfect. (L/N), you go too, and that will be great,” said Saiko. It would just be him and Teruhashi.

            “We don’t think so!” said everyone else.

            “This is going nowhere, so I’ll decide.” Kuboyasu took charge. “Nendou and Mera make the raft. You, too, Saiko. Shun gets seasick like Mera says, so you’ll stay on the island. And then the rest will stay on the island. There, done. Four on the raft, five on the island. Any complaints?”

            None came, and as soon as Saiko opened his mouth, Kuboyasu ignored him and turned to the raft. “Okay, back to work.”

            Yare yare. I have to do something. He needed to get everyone on the raft so he could teleport them.

l

            Night had fallen on the island, and the raft was complete. They had successfully made one (how good was it? They weren’t thinking about that).

            “It’s done!” cheered Kaidou.

            “We finished the raft!” said Nendou.

            Yumehara cried for joy. “It’s finally done.”

            “Alright, now let’s see if it floats,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Of course it floats, look how cool it is!” said Kaidou. “You know, at first, I thought the raft was a stupid idea. But I’m glad we built it. We were divided at first when we came to this island. I was really worried. But now, we worked together to build a raft, and I’m not worried anymore. I know it’s weird to say, but I’m glad we came to this island.”

            (Y/N) smiled at Kaidou’s words. He was really a sweet guy.

            “We learned Aren is a good leader. Nendou is the same as ever, but that’s pretty amazing considering our situation,” said Kaidou. “(L/N) is really good at keeping people focused and their spirits up.” He smiled. “In fact, I’m certain now that we’re all going to make it.”

            Nice speech, but that’s a sure sign you’re about to die, thought Saiki. He didn’t voice that thought.

            “You’re right, runt!” said Nendou. “I feel like we’re all gonna make it, too.” He laughed. “Why are you trying to sound cool, runt?”

            “I hope you die,” said Kaidou.

            “Hey!”

            Kuboyasu chuckled. “Let’s just eat now. I’m hungry.”

            “Me, too!” said Mera.

            They cheered and grabbed their food.

            “Kusuo?” whispered (Y/N). “What are we going to do?”

            “I’m going to handle it,” said Saiki. He nodded to the people around the fire. “Enjoy yourself. I promise I’ll get you out of here.”

            (Y/N) smiled softly at him. They really were lucky to have Saiki as their boyfriend.

l

            “Everyone have their food?” said Kuboyasu.

            “Yes,” said Nendou.

            “Let’s go then,” said Kuboyasu.

            “We’ll see each other again,” said Kaidou, giving the raft group a thumbs-up.

            “Of course,” said Kuboyasu. He smiled at the group. He frowned. “Were you always this dirty, Saiki?”

            Poor Saiki—up all night fixing everyone else’s problems—was covered in dirt.

            “What would you expect after four days here?” said Saiki evasively.

            “Now, let’s see if this raft can hold up to four people,” said Kuboyasu. He stepped on. “Nice! It’s holding up well.”

            Everyone’s eyes widened. He had stepped onto a rescue dinghy that had appeared out of nowhere.

            “We found eight castaways!” said the official in the dinghy.

            “That matches our report,” said his radio. “Rescue them all.”

            “What?” said Kuboyasu, confused. Everyone stared with confused joy.

            “Do you remember your name?” said another rescuer.

            “Who the hell are you?! What is this?!” said Kuboyasu.

            “We’ve rescued them,” confirmed the official. “Nobody is injured, but they’re confused.”

            “We’re saved?” said Yumehara in shock.

            “It looks like it,” said Kaidou.

            “Oh, good,” sighed Teruhashi. Her light was flickering.

            “Thank you, Kusuo,” whispered (Y/N). They had no idea how he’d done it, but he’d saved them all. “Let’s get coffee jelly when we get back.” They smiled.

            Saiki smiled slightly at them. “I like that idea.”

l

            (Y/N) and Saiki let out twin sighs as they took bites of their coffee jellies. Finally, safe and sound at home—and they were left in peace.

            “Sleeping in my own bed was amazing last night,” said (Y/N), humming.

            “Yes,” agreed Saiki.

            “Kusuo, you teleported back to your room every night,” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            “Still,” said Saiki. He looked at them. “Are you alright?”

            “With you there, I was never in danger,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I’ fine.”

            Saiki’s eyes softened. “You trust me.”

            “Of course,” said (Y/N), laughing. “You’re my boyfriend. And you’re a great guy.”

            “I think everyone is troublesome,” said Saiki.

            “You help people every time they need it,” said (Y/N), waving their spoon at him. “Also, I wouldn’t date someone who wasn’t good at heart.”

            “You see through me. How?” said Saiki.

            “Does it make you uncomfortable?” said (Y/N), frowning.

            “No. You’re…nice. I don’t mind,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) smiled, and their cheeks warmed. “I’m glad. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

            “That’s why I feel comfortable around you,” said Saiki. “But how do you read me?”

            “Because you’re a normal person,” said (Y/N), smiling. “You’re just better at controlling your facial expressions.”

            “That simple?” said Saiki.

            “Yeah.”

            (Y/N)’s trick was that they treated him like a regular person. Huh. That made Saiki’s heart beat a bit faster. All he wanted was to be normal, and his favorite person in the world thought of him as that.

            Most people wanted their partner to see them as special, as amazing, as above all the rest, but Saiki just wanted to be treated as a person. And (Y/N) did.

            “Thank you,” said Saiki.

            “For what?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “Being you.”

            (Y/N) raised a brow, confused about what that meant, but they felt the compliment, so they smiled. “Right back at you, Kusuo.”

l

            “Saiki, (L/N), we heard you got stranded on a deserted island!” said several classmates, clamoring around the pair as they entered their classroom. “Were you okay? We were worried. How did you find food there? Teruhashi was there, too, right? Right? Right?”

            “I thought everything was over,” sighed Saiki as he avoided the crowd with (Y/N).

            “Yeah, but what did we expect?” said (Y/N), shrugging. “Nine missing kids on an island is a story. People want to hear it.” They smiled. “At least Saiko got the news to drop the story. It’s just the kids at school.” They brightened. “First good thing he’s done for us.”

            Saiko is still climbing to (Y/N)’s good side. Saiki almost felt bad for him. “Who is spreading the rumors?”

            “Without food, we lost hope,” said Kaidou to a crowd. They hung onto every word he spoke, and Kaidou was talented at spinning a tale. “That’s when I suggested we build a raft. And by some miracle, nine saws washed ashore.”

            “Easy answer to that question,” said (Y/N), smothering a laugh.

            “They say gossip lasts seventy-five days, but I can’t wait that long,” said Saiki, narrowing his eyes.

            “Saiki, (L/N), were you scared? Did you paint your faces?” said a classmate.

            “I don’t remember that,” said (Y/N), considering.

            “He’s embellishing.” Saiki didn’t want his reputation to be affected by Kaidou.

            “Whoa! Look at this!”

            (Y/N) and Saiki looked into the hall where a growing murmur of discussion and exclamations could be heard. People were crowded around the bulletin board. Stepping closer, (Y/N) and Saiki looked over the crowd. Blazoned on several wide pieces of paper were articles, each headline more provocative than the last.

“The Nine Missing High School Kids were Students from our School.”

“These are the Nine Castaways.” (Accompanied by school photos)

“Saiko’s Private Boat Sunk.”

“Kokomi Teruhashi was on the Boat?”

“Nasty Saiko Family Rumors—Exclusive Interview with One of the Survivors.”

            People were whispering about the newspaper articles, eager to find out if everything was true or not.

            “What is this ridiculous newspaper?” said Saiki, irritated.

            “Excuse me.” Saiki and (Y/N) turned to find a girl with a recorder in her hands and a boy with a camera. The girl smiled. “Aren’t you Kusuo Saiki and (Y/N) (L/N)? I’m Manako Jouten, a member of the newspaper club. Could we talk about your experience on the deserted island?”

            Newspaper club? So she’s the one who wrote this ridiculous article? thought Saiki.

            “No, thanks!” chirped (Y/N), turning away. Saiki followed them without another word.

            “They ignored us. Take their picture now,” said Jouten to her cameraman. She smirked. “Once they know how terrifying we are, they will be dying to cooperate.”

            Yare yare. Saiki went from one problem to another. But if they tried to spread some sort of nasty rumor about (Y/N), then they’d learn just how terrifying he was.

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[linkemon]

Confession headcanons

You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Other headcanons from Twisted Wonderland can be found here.

Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 of the confession headcanons.

This part contains: Deuce Spade, Lilia Vanrouge and Vil Schoenheit.

Deuce Spade

• Ace would have realized what was happening to Deuce faster than him. Spade had always liked you very much but he didn't even realize when his feelings started to go in a completely different direction. He stopped seeing you as just a friend and started to imagine what it would be like if you spent even more time together alone. Which with your friends always looking for trouble was really hard.

• Ace would come up with several potential plans, each of which would backfire. The flowers? Ruined by Grim. The letter? Misplaced somewhere. Everything would turn against Deuce. His friend, tired of it all, would tell him to just get a grip because he had no more options.

• To say Deuce was shaking the whole way to you would be an understatement. But in the end, he decided he had to be himself. Deuce wanted you to love him like that. So he went exactly as he was, at night when the thought occurred to him. In his pajamas, during curfew in Heartslabyul. He figured he'd admit it to the prefect in the morning, like an honor student.

• When you opened the door for him, he said what was in his heart in one breath. He promises to love you just the way you are. Because he knows he's not perfect himself. He'll try to change, for you. Hard work is his specialty. So give him a chance and you definitely won't be disappointed.

Warning! This part contains spoilers for the beginning of the 7th book!

Lilia Vanrouge

• This would be a confession that would survive many trials. From the very beginning, something drew you to him. Maybe because, as it turned out later, Lilia is a completely different student than everyone else at NRC. Because of his flirtatious behaviour, it is easy to perceive it as fun. Something seemingly non-binding. As if everything was fleeting for him because after all, he had lived so many years. That is why you would have to wait for a real, sincere: I love you.

• When he announced he was leaving school, you were devastated. Here he was, announcing the news to everyone and you were standing at his farewell party, looking him straight in the eye with boundless sadness. Lilia truly believed it was for the best. Until Malleus decided to put everyone, including you, into eternal sleep.

• When you woke up in Vanrouge's dream, he wasn't the same fae you knew. You didn't really want to admit it was him but with every passing second, you began to understand him better. All the reasons why he became who he was. The lengths he would go to when he loved someone. It was then that you realized that only now did you fully understand him.

• When Lilia pulled you desperately to him in the dream, you didn't know what to do. He was your beloved but also a general who shouldn't exist anymore. His lips wandered for a moment. It wasn't a gentle kiss. Quite the opposite, it expressed hunger and longing. It said what words couldn't before the dream separated you. Now you have to do everything in your power to be able to feel it once more.

Vil Schoenheit

• Vil doesn't look for people who can't match his determination. He's got his life in order and knows exactly what his goals are. He's only changed the methods to achieve them. So when he realized how much he cared about the potato, he knew you had to grow up to that level of determination.

• He gave you time to read the gestures that expressed romantic interest. At the same time, however, he was very direct. He didn't want to leave anything unsaid. He waited for you to realize it and ask directly. He loves you and is able to do a lot for you. He made it clear that you have to accept that his career won't go anywhere and will be an important part of your lives. However, if, despite this, you return his feelings, he will move mountains for you because he knows he can. When you were already sure that you felt the same way, he asked you out on a real date.

• The date was classic and classy. A bouquet of wine-red roses. In addition, you, dressed in the best, elegant clothes that Vil chose for you two. An expensive restaurant and exquisite dishes that melted in your mouth. Afterwards, a walk. The starry sky above you, which turned into a cluster of torrential clouds halfway there. However, this gave you the opportunity to play a truly cinematic scene.

• You will remember the kiss in the rain for the rest of your life. Just like running in the downpour to the nearest free roof, covered with Vil's jacket, while holding his hand. His sincere laughter is not something you hear often. It will play in your ears like a melody for a long time.

If you'd like to be tagged in the next part of Twisted Wonderland headcanons, let me know!

[sims-himbo]

THE SIMS 4: BARBIE LEGACY CHALLENGE (BASE GAME EDITION!)

ever since i posted the original challenge, i have been getting asked to come up with a base game version, and it is finally here! i'm really sorry that it took this long but i have no concept of time lol, anyways, i hope even more of you can enjoy it now!

challenge rules below the cut

All heirs must be female and named Barbie. (non-heir children may have any name)

You may use the freerealestate cheat for your first house, but try not to use money cheats after that!

You are allowed and encouraged to use lot traits and rewards to boost skill gain, anything that’s in-game is fair game.

You’ve been raised with traditional values: find a good man, start a family, be a homemaker... But you want your children to aim higher, so you’ll make sure to set them up for success.

Complete Successful Lineage aspiration

Max Cooking and Charisma skill

Have at least 4 kids, each child must complete at least one child aspiration and they must all max out their grades in school

Must have Family-Oriented trait

Your mother was happy staying at home, but not you. You’re ready to fight your way to the top and make enough money to support your family for generations to come.

Complete Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

Max Charisma and Logic skills

Max Business career (Investor branch)

Must have Ambitious trait

Your family is wealthy and you were pretty popular growing up. You’ve always been a trendsetter, pushing the limits and breaking the mold, so now it’s time to take the fashion industry by storm!

Complete Friend Of The World aspiration

Must have Materialistic and Creative traits

Max Style Influencer career (Trendsetter branch)

Max Photography and Charisma skills

Have a gallery wall with all of your friends and family

Your mom has made a name for herself on social media, and she's used her platform to promote your cooking talents! Empowered by this positive attention, you decide to follow your dreams of becoming a world-renowned chef!

Complete Master Chef aspiration (Chef branch)

Must have Foodie trait

Max Cooking and Gourmet Cooking skills

Die by fire, then make Ambrosia to bring yourself back from the dead! (You may cheat for the ingredients, but not for the skills; you may also cheat to add your ghost to your household, here's how)

When you were a lass, your mom made you four dozen eggs every morning to help you get large! Now, you’re determined to reach your full potential in physical performance and become a world class champion!

Complete Bodybuilder aspiration

Max Fitness and Charisma skills

Max Athlete career (Athlete branch)

Must have Active trait

Your mother was physically gifted, but you’re more brainy than brawny. You spend hours at your computer everyday, there’s so much information to absorb!

Complete Computer Whiz aspiration

Max Video Gaming and Programming skills

Win a Professional Tournament in ALL the games

Must have Geek trait

Your family has achieved many, many accolades, and you’ve set out to capture all of it in an epic Tell-All novel that you spend your entire life writing!

Complete Bestselling Author aspiration

Max Writing skill

Write Book Of Life and bind it to your parent, use it to successfully bring them back from a premature death

Must have Creative trait

Being from a successful lineage, people may roll their eyes and immediately write you off as yet another nepo-baby trying to start a music career… So you must prove them all wrong by becoming a proper rockstar!

Complete Party Animal aspiration

Max Entertainer Career (Musician Branch)

Must have Music Lover and Outgoing traits

Max Guitar, Violin and Piano skills

The success of your ancestors has set you up to comfortably follow your dreams. You love the arts, and you want to become an accomplished painter living in a beautiful palace, surrounded by the beauty you’ve created!

Complete Mansion Baron aspiration

Max Painter career (Either branch)

Max Painting skill

Have an Art Gallery and display all of your masterpieces

Must have Art Lover trait

Now that you’ve conquered the world, it’s time to venture out into Space! There’s so much to explore out there, and Barbie must leave her mark all across the galaxy.

Complete Nerd Brain aspiration

Max Astronaut career (Any branch)

Max Logic and Rocket Science skills

Build and fully upgrade a Rocket Ship

Explore Space and bring a souvenir

Try for a baby on the ship!

Must have Genius trait