#but i feel like i'd collapse if i tried to go to all three of em back to back

[skrunksthatwunk]

head in my hands not me wanting to skip my classes. ITS WEEK TWO

[bunny-jpeg]

simple woman

simon "ghost" riley

cw: mask kink, dub-con, breeding, bimbo-ish!reader, size difference/kink, choking, finger-fucking, degradation (misogyny), impregnation/pregnancy, minor praise kink, there's a lot happening a word from bunny: like the fic! suggest your own! comments are always welcomed <3

simon just thought you were the sweetest thing to come out the army. he must've thought they were getting desperate by letting a scaredy cat like you in. look at you, you could've even hold a gun steady with your arms shaking! tsk, tsk, tsk. someone like you shouldn't be in a place like this, with all these scary men.

they'd eat you alive and then chew on your bones. they'd lick you in and out like the inside of a crisp package. stay with simon, he'd keep you safe. but safety came with a price. and that price landed you with an extra eight inches inside of you.

he had you alone for the night, away from your barracks and into the single room he had. the privileges of what he did. but a good girl like you had to behave. be good for him.

strong fingers were thrusted in and out of your sweet cunt as he kept another hand of his around your neck to keep you quiet. he wore his mask to conceal his face. even after all this time you saw was his lips and the nasty scar on one side.

"that's a good girl." he said quietly, "i like how you act when i'm three fingers inside of ya. you take me so well."

you whimpered and clutched onto his shoulders. he was just so big compared to you, in every sense of the word. he at least had a head over you and broad enough shoulders that he easily blocked out the sun when he loomed over you. he was strong and domineering.

"that's my girl. you know no one else can have you, right? because if the wrong fucker tried to take you from me. they'd simply end up in pieces in the river."

your nailed dug into the meat of one of his shoulders as you tried to support yourself. you whimpered as he held you still by your throat as he moved his fingers faster in and out of you. you kicked your legs out but he curled around you to keep you close to him.

"stop that, love. i'd hate to have to tie you up and gag you." he squeezed a little and you wheezed. he knew he was in control, he loved the control he had over his little doll.

you squeezed onto him tighter as you tried to take as much air as you could between the moments he relaxed his grip. he dipped his face into your neck as inhaled your sweaty scent, to him it smelt amazing.

"simon." you croaked.

"no, no, girlie. it's lieutenant. and not lt like soap says." he reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your throat and tapped his finger against your nose. he watched you take a deep breath after being deprived of (most) air for some time.

you sputtered and coughed and he continued to fuck you with his calloused fingers. he admired the mark around your neck that he was certain was going to go purple within a few days. he wrapped an arm around around shoulders and pulled you into him as he continued to brutalize your cunt with his fingers.

you panted and moaned into his skin and your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to leverage yourself. you felt on the knife's edge of pleasure even if it was rough and messy. your toes curled as you panted heavily. the room felt hot and your head felt like a mess.

simon was the only anchor you had to reality. you moaned softly into his strong neck, you could feel the sweat drip down it and onto your nose. it must got hot under the mask.

when you climaxed, your cunt tightened around his fingers. he knew and clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. he watched your tense as he finger-fucked you, then when you relaxed and collapsed onto the bed with you nude body on display for him.

he pulled out his fingers and slipped them under the back to get a taste of your wetness. he groaned to himself before he got your legs off his lap. he got up from the bed and started to undress. you looked at him, your mind was drawn to a blank as you saw the muscle on his body.

he wasn't simply built the way men in superhero movies were. he was like a classic strongman you once saw in a book. you could tell there was heavy muscle, but a layer of thickness over top. it kept him warm in the cold months on base. if he were an animal, it would be like a bear. bulky, intimidating, ready to tear apart whatever victim got in its jaws.

he was scary, you were in love with him.

simon didn't love, he obsessed. his entire life had been stalking, almost hunting for the 'bad guys'. when he worked it was an obsession to track down the likes of terrorists, so it would only make sense that he loved the same way.

he got undressed, but still opted to keep the mask on. you could see his stern dark eyes staring at you as you laid on your stomach on his bed. he could tell you were still out of it, your mind a blur.

"that's a good girl. nice and dumb for me." he chuckled quietly to himself as he approached the bed once more, "no need to think about a damn thing, just how good i make you feel."

"simon, please." you whimpered.

he chuckled as he came over and ruffled your hair, "i know, i know. you're always trying to prove yourself to captain price. but i know what you're capable of. meant to be a good doll for me, maybe instead of being a Sargent, you can become my wife. a better fittin' title for you." he rarely spoke much, but when he was with you and your brain was splatted to the back of your skull, the words came out.

his tongue was filthy, but he saw how you reacted to them. he knew you were a dirty whore, he was just lucky to find you first and keep you all to himself.

he sat down on the edge of the bed and groped your ass. his touches were rough and you tried to back away from him on the bed. but you could never truly escape simon. he was a ghost, he'd find you. so don't go running away, as he always warned you. he wagged his finger at you like you were some kind of child.

but now he was kissing at your neck and gripping your ass with his broad hand. he loved how you felt under him, how he pressed into you. he could crush you so easily, that was why he never understood how you even got into the army. you bruised like a fruit, there were many times he grabbed you and were left purple within a few days.

simon loved the bruises. but only when he did them. he wasn't going to beat you down, you were his doll. but he did enjoy the sight of the splotches of purple and blue on your hips when you undressed for him. he wondered if your fellow soldiers ever gossiped about them.

but that wasn't anything to worry about. soon simon would have his way and you wouldn't even be in the forces. as he moved your hips to be at level with his hard cock, he thought about the nice house he'll get for the both of you.

somewhere he can keep you safe, his hidden treasure. he did want children, he wanted many of them. and you'd give them all to him, he wondered if your folks would be okay if he got you knocked up before the wedding.

the thought made him smile under his mask as he sank down into your pussy, all eight inches slammed into the back of your pussy. you let out a loud moan but he clamped a hand around you mouth to keep you quiet.

"i'm pretty sure." he said, "you don't want the base to know how much of a fuckin' slag you are." he kissed your cheek through the mask harshly, "that's for me to know." then started to thrust in and out of you with on hand around your mouth and the other on your shoulder to guide your body up and down his cock.

the mask up against your hot cheek was overstimulating, the fabric of the balaclava was rough against your skin. your cheeks stung as he thrusted up into you.

the bed squeaked under you two as the headboard hit against the wall gently. simon was lucky that he didn't have any neighbours in that direction.

he was domineering over top of you, he had you under his weight as his cock bullied against your cervix. you gasped and moaned into his hand as you saw stars in your vision. you were such a treat.

he was obsessed with you, he only wanted you. you were everything to him. now he just needed a piece of land and enough security to make sure that no one was going to hurt a single hair on your head. after all it was his duty as the man to make sure his wife was alright.

"you're perfect like this. this is how a woman should be." he remarked, "under me, letting me fuck that sweet cunt. you're a good girl for me. you'll make a good role model for our girls."

you squeaked and your eyes went wide for a moment. but then he slammed against your womb and your eyes rolled back from the intense pleasure. you held onto the bed under you and your back was arched as he fucked your harder.

he was practically fucking you up against the headboard, with your body contorted so he could thrust into you without much abandon. your wet pussy made the most delicious sounds as he used you. it felt so good. it was like you were made for him.

he groaned against you and continued his harsh thrusts. he kept you pinned to him, where you belonged. "pretty girl like you was probably told her entire life that you could be whatever you wanted. but, i know better. meant to be a wife and mother to a good englishman." he chuckled in your ear, "make the queen proud by havin' a few brats with me." he felt your cunt tighten around him which made him groan, "my doll likes that, huh? puttin' a man on top for once. don't worry i ain't no deadbeat. happy wife, happy life." he pulled up his mack a little so he could get the feeling of your heated skin against his lips.

you hated how he talked down to you because you were a woman. you had enough of it in the military. but it stirred something in you that you had little words for. maybe the idea of having a few kids with simon wasn't a bad idea. no more trainings, no more missions. just you and him. even as you tried to shake the thought off, your body responded by clenching around his cock. As to ensure that he stayed right in your pussy.

he dropped your face onto the pillow and held you by the neck. then with his other hand he raised your hips further. he was holding you up as he bruised your pussy with his cock.

"nice little place out in the country. five kids should be enough to keep ya busy. five under four years if we're lucky." he chuckled darkly, "kept woman, that's what you'll be. my lovely wife in her place, as she should be." he chuckled. you couldn't even look behind you to see the face he was making with his mask pulled up every so slightly.

"simon." you whimpered.

"what did i say, doll? you're a lower rank among other things. don't make me punish ya."

"sorry, lieutenant." you squeaked.

"good girl." he continued his harsh thrusts that left the bed moving. your brain felt like mush once more, his words rang in your head like church bells. you were too far gone with him, he was obsessed with you. his claws were in you long before this and there was no escaping it now.

it almost brought a cold fear in you at the idea of taking another lover. if he found out someone touched what was his. you could only imagine the damage he'd do, not only to the man you were with but also you, yourself.

his movements started to stagger, he had less focus and was relying on instinct as he rammed his cock into you. he was getting close to his own climax. your pussy was such a delight around him, you accommodated his large size perfectly. you were a dream.

he gave a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you, "good girl, take me all. that's it. make sure not to spill a drop or i'll have to get find ways to keep in ya next time."

"yes, lieutenant." you moaned into the pillows. you tensed when he started to play with your clit. his fingers were fat but nimble. they rubbed against your sweet spot as you clenched around his still hardened cock.

"i ain't done with you yet, love." he said in your ear as you climaxed around him, "got a couple more loads before i think i've seeded ya enough. you just lie there like a good girl and let me take care of everything."

there was no option to say 'no', you were pinned under him with his cock buried inside of you. you meekly nodded. he chuckled and you shuddered.

you knew it was going to be a long night.

-

the last name riley wasn't the worst one to have. simon often joked that it could be long like mactavish. it had been three years since you left the military to be his bride.

now you were on your fourth kid, about six months pregnant. you hard a girl and two twin boys. you wanted to keep the gender of baby number four a secret.

he had your legs open, he held onto your thighs as he sank his cock into you. he groaned out loud. the kids were asleep which meant it was time for mama and papa to play.

he placed your legs up against his chest, closed to one side. he then leaned forward and bent your knees as much as the belly would allow. he had you in a press as he bullied his cock into your pussy.

he groaned as he felt the tight heat around his cock. you looked perfect in his eyes, you gave him everything he wanted. you were a fine mama, a good wife to him. he gave a few gentle thrusts as he looked into your eyes.

the mask was long gone, but the look in his eye remained back when you first started to have sex. he was obsessed with you still and every little thing you did.

there was no place you could ever hide from him. he had claimed you inside and out. but it was alright, he intended on keeping you for a long time.

"good girl." he grumbled.

"thank you, lieutenant." <3

[solelifauna]

But You Belong to Me (You Belong to Me) - (Yandere Jason Todd x Reader) Sneak Peak!!

Hey guys! I just thought I'd post a sneak peek for the upcoming yandere Jason Todd x Reader fic. It isn't much but hope y'all like it!

[Exerpt]

Heavy rain pelts down onto your frame, coveted in all black; what a bleak day it was, but you guessed the weather was befitting the occasion. There are three other people standing next to you also dressed in black. There was a hand on your shoulder (you don't know whose though, and you can't seem to care either), most likely in place to comfort you, or to try at least, but you couldn't focus on anything else but the too small coffin being lowered into the ground.

It was mahogany, a deep brown casket with gold details, something fancy. You knew if Jason were alive to see it, he'd hate it. He likes–liked red, he would have wanted a red one. But no, he was busy being lowered into the ground instead. Tears streamed down your face but you couldn't bring yourself to wipe them. What good would it do you? It was raining anyway.

The funeral comes to a close, although you're not sure when (how) time passed so quickly, leaving Jason, your best friend, the boy you loved, buried six feet under. You don't know what to do, you don't know what you can do. You just stand there, unable to move. He's dead. He’s dead. You’ll never see him again, he’s dead. You'll never sit on the couch with him arguing over his book of the week, he’s dead. You'll never get to stay up and watch the stars with him, he’s dead. You'll never get to tell him how you really feel, he's dead.  

It's only when Bruce, his father, gently tries to guide you to the car you came in, you break. You lash out, twisting away from his hand as you trip over yourself trying to get to Jason’s headstone. Bruce and Dick, Jason’s older brother, exclaim in surprise and then follow after you. You collapse on your knees near the freshly lain dirt, sobbing with your full chest.

You could hear Bruce and Dick stop a couple of feet away from you, unable to comfort you in their own grief. That was fine though, you're not sure what you'd say or do if they tried to. They let you have your time with him, knowing it was just as difficult for you as it was for them, but as time ticks by another hour has passed and you’re still kneeling by his grave, no longer crying, but still unmoving. 

You stared blankly at his headstone, still trying to realize that he wasn't coming back. When you feel someone grab your shoulder this time, you know it's Alfred. And you know what he's going to say to you, the words you’ve been dreading to hear.

“It’s time to go Miss (Y/n).” Alfred says gently, his own voice filled with grief at the loss of his grandson.

You don't say anything, your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Alfred only sighs, before taking his leave. Good. Nobody was taking you away from here. A couple more minutes pass when you hear another pair of footsteps headed towards you. Bruce.

“(Y/n),” Bruce calls softly, yet voice still rough and raw from his own sorrow, “It’s–It's time to go now sweetie.”

You don't even turn around from where you were sitting. “No.” You say firmly.

Bruce and Alfred exchange a look. 

“Miss (Y/n),” Alfred starts, “ you’ve been sitting out in the rain all day. Wouldn't you like a change of–”

“No!” You shout out this time. You flinch back from the sound of your own voice, and you could tell Alfred and Bruce were taken aback by your behavior as well. 

With a sigh, Bruce decides that he'd come get you himself, any longer out here and you'd be sick for a week. His hands come around to grab you, to pull you up and you scream, kicking and fighting your way out of his hold.

“No! No, I wont leave him! I'm not gonna leave him! Let me go!” You cry, banging your punny fists against Bruce’s chest. He doesn't even flinch, he just holds you and lets you cry, kick, and scream. 

“Please let me go! He–he doesn't like being alone, I promised him–I promised I'd never let him be alone.” You cry out again, your voice fizzling into another sob as your fussing stops. You just stand there, slumping into Bruce’s arms, sobbing once more.

He doesn't say another word, he just brushes your tears away and leads you towards the limo where Dick was already situated. Alfred sits you down into the limo, making his way to the driver's seat. Bruce slides in next, eyes aghast and tired, clearly haunted by the loss of his youngest. Dick is turned away from the rest of you in a similar state. The car starts, heading towards the manor.

It was a silent and short ride over, nobody daring or having the strength to say anything. The vehicle comes to a stop, everyone numbly piling out the door and into the Manor. Dinner would be forgotten tonight as everyone went to their own respective places to continue grieving. Bruce, to the Batcave; Alfred, to the Library; Dick, to patrolling the streets of Gotham (knowing that if he stayed in the manor, he’d end up breaking something); and you, to Jason's room.

You crumpled onto the maroon carpet, gazing around his room, hoping that you'd see him pop up and tell you it was all a joke. But he wouldn't. You saw his mangled body. You knew that he was never coming back. What's even worse, is that you could still see Jason’s unfinished math homework lying on his desk, the paper slightly crumpled from when he would undoubtedly grip and erase out of frustration. Mrs. Delaurier’s algebra II homework would forever remain unfinished.

You promptly break into tears once more.

[I want to preface that the reader is NOT adopted by Bruce Wayne!]

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 ♡

akaashi keiji x f!reader

you and your boyfriend are no strangers to overthinking — so when your period doesn't arrive on time, you take turns calming each other down.

"I'm late." Akaashi lifted his head from the manuscript he was editing, his glasses strewn haphazardly across his face. You were standing in the threshold of your shared study, having just returned from your second anxiety-induced bathroom break of the night.

Your boyfriend of five years turned in his creaky swivel chair to face the calendar tacked on the leftmost wall of the room, littered in neon post-it notes and defaced by both of your penmanships — Akaashi's short and slanted, yours perfectly proportioned.

Ever the editor, he said, "But I thought your draft wasn't due until next week." Being a romance author and dating a literary editor certainly had its perks, but in this moment, you couldn't decide whether to feel distressed or endeared by his misinterpretation. You took a deep breath and tried again.

"...not that kind of late."

It took him a second to understand. But when he finally did, the brain fog immediately cleared from his eyes.

"Oh — oh," he said, setting down his red pen and standing from his desk. "You're absolutely sure?"

You nodded. "Three days, to be exact."

Ever since you and Akaashi had started dating your senior year of college, you had been tracking your periods in hopes of preventing an unplanned pregnancy. You were both open to having kids — after all, you two were arguably the most responsible ones in your friend group, and baby fever passed between the two of you as easily as the common cold. But neither of you expected to have a child this early into your careers, and the mere idea was enough to make you feel queasy.

"Hey, hey," Akaashi interjected gently, reading the expression on your face like an open book. He walked around his cluttered desk and pulled you into his arms. "It's okay. I know we both have a tendency to overthink —"

"A great trait to pass onto a baby," you volleyed back.

"But if you really are pregnant, we would handle it," he continued, however amused by your quit wit. He tucked your head beneath his chin. "We'd ask all the right questions, read all the right parenting books. I'll hold your hand when your get your blood drawn, even though it makes me want to collapse."

Despite yourself, you chuckled at that.

"Besides," he added. "We practically raise Bokuto together already."

You were laughing even harder now, the waves of anxiety flooding your chest now subsiding, if only for a moment. Akaashi was the only one capable of doing that.

"Ugh," you cried, pulling away from him to massage your tired eyes. "How did this even happen?"

"I think you know perfectly well how this happened."

"Of course, I know," you drawled. "But we had a plan. A well-thought-out, career-oriented plan. You would go to grad school, I would publish a few more novels —"

"All of which we can still do if we become parents," Akaashi replied, taking both of your hands into his. "Y/N, I am well-aware of the fact that we both love planning our lives to a tee. In fact, your thoughtfulness and attention-to-detail are what I love most about you."

Your face flushed at his affectionate words.

"But maybe it would save us both the mental energy to let life surprise us every once in a while," he finished.

"With a baby?"

"With anything! Including the possibility of a baby." He pushed your hair of our of face and looked at you in sheer adoration. "I love you, Y/N. There is no other person I'd want to become a parent with. So while an unplanned pregnancy sounds daunting, I will be right there with you. We'd figure it out. Together."

Perhaps it was the steady confidence in his eyes — or the potential pregnancy hormones coursing through your bloodstream, but you started to cry. Taken aback, Akaashi immediately took you back into his arms.

"D-Did I say something wrong?" he stammered. You shook your head against his chest as you wept.

"No. No, you said everything right," you reassured him. "God, if this actually happens, Keiji, you're going to be an incredible parent."

Now it was his turn to get emotional.

You turned off the lamps at your respective desks and headed to the pharmacy two blocks away from your apartment, the sidewalks bustling with native bar-hoppers and starry-eyed tourists. You'd both walked this path several times before and had always returned with a bundle of items: Red Bull, microwave popcorn, the occasional pack of condoms. But never a pregnancy test. "Is there a specific brand that gives you the most accurate results?" Akaashi asked, immediately pulling out his phone to do some research in the middle of the family planning aisle. "It says here that digital pregnancy tests are generally considered more accurate, but you can get a pack of three analog tests for nearly half the price..."

He paced up-and-down the rows of tests, comparing and cross-referencing them like he did each of his authors' drafts.

"I mean, why don't we just buy them all? It can't hurt to cover all the bases," he murmured, grabbing one of each brand from the shelf and dumping them into your open arms.

"Keiji," you laughed, amused by how serious he was about all of this. "Don't you think we're being a little hasty?"

"You're right," your boyfriend said, shaking his head. "I haven't even checked the expiration dates on any of these — "

"No, that's not what I meant," you repeated firmly, meeting his frazzled gaze with your now-steady one. "I think we should buy only one pack. Your pick."

He looked at you as if you'd just suggested he dive off a steep cliff. "Are you sure?" "Yes," you promised him. "I don't even think I have enough pee for all the pregnancy tests I'm holding right now." His shoulders slumped from the steep drop in adrenaline, and he pressed his lips into a tight, nervous line before admitting, "I just want to make sure I'm doing everything right." "You already are," you reassured him, shifting all of the pregnancy tests over to one arm and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder with the other. "You don't need to overthink whether or not you're doing a great job, because you are. I wouldn't have let you possibly impregnate me if you weren't."

He released a shaky sigh, a sheepish smile on his face as he asked, "Can I still consult Google reviews?"

After finally selecting a pregnancy test and a pint of ice cream to share, you and Akaashi paid for your items and walked back to your apartment arm-in-arm.

"Do you remember the day we met?" he asked, the sounds of the city rumbling between you as you walked.

"Of course I remember. I wanted the last desk in the front row of our senior writing seminar, but someone got there before me," you said teasingly. "Though I think it was for the best. I developed a crush on the back of your head almost instantly."

"You did not."

"I'm not even kidding. I'm pretty sure I based all of my fictional love interests on you that year."

"That I picked up on."

"You did not."

He chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, I had to ask Bokuto to read your stories because I thought I was insanely self-absorbed for suspecting you'd base any character off of me. I'd never had anyone describe me so accurately. So...deeply," he confessed. "I was flattered. Truly."

You couldn't help the blush creeping up your neck. "I guess that's what I get, asking my crush to peer-review my work."

He bent down to press his lips to your temple. "I'm glad you did."

You climbed the stairs back to your apartment and unlocked the door, the small space crowded by stacks of books and half-empty mugs. You imagined what it would be like to rearrange the furniture to make room for a crib, what it would be like for you and Akaashi to read to your baby all the books you'd loved as children. The mere idea was enough to make your eyes well up again.

God, you thought to yourself, tearing open the box of pregnancy tests and inspecting the thick packet of instructions. Would you actually be disappointed if this test came back negative?

"I'll be right here if you need me," Akaashi said, gesturing to the couch. You nodded, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.

After five minutes of working yourself up to peeing on the stick and another two of actually doing it, you ushered your boyfriend back into the bathroom. You'd placed the test face-down beside the sink, not wanting to know the results without him. Your heart hammered violently as you considered this piece of plastic's inane ability to tell your entire future in just a few measly lines.

"Hey," Akaashi reassured you for the millionth time that night, intertwining your hand in his. "No matter the outcome, I've got you."

"I know." You nodded. "I've got you, too."

His expression softened. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you said, and you meant it. After all, Akaashi Keiji had spent the past five years holding your heart with more patience and consideration you ever thought you deserved, and you had dedicated yourself fully to doing the same for him. You took care of each other amidst all anxieties. That alone was enough to assure you that, whatever the future held, you would be just fine.

Squeezing each other's hand one last time, you took a deep breath, reached for the pregnancy test, and turned it over. @miyasmagnolias, 2025

[mintmatcha]

-cw: reader has health issues

Overdue. Overdue. Overdue. They all bore into you with their bright, red letters. Each letter urges payment, warns of dire consequence, all topped with the same name: Kita Shinsuke.

It takes three reads through for the information to feel real. Credit cards, doctor's bills, the fucking house- all of it spread across the tiny, oak desk in Kita's office, tucked away where he didn't want you to see.

The door creaks open and you whip around, no longer afraid of being caught.

"Shinsuke."

Kita takes a breath, so deep and sudden that his shoulders bounce up, but he lets it go slowly. His expression returns to its usual placid self, if not a bit more crinkled at the eyes. In two steps, he's to you, swiping away the evidence of his wrongdoing.

"I told you not to look through that, darlin'." His voice is soft, uplifted, like your lives aren't on the brink of collapse. "You don't gotta worry about that."

"Worry? Worry? This is--" Your own breath is much, much shakier. "Shinsuke, this is-- this is bad."

He tucks the envelopes back to where you found them and you can't help but notice a quiver in his hands. Shinsuke, your Shinsuke, unflappable, stable Shinsuke, is shaking.

"It just wasn't a good season." His smile never falters. "Things will be better after the next harvest."

"We're going to lose the house-"

"Darlin'." He holds his hands up, palms to you. "It's okay."

It's not. Your mind is already racing; it's your fault, of course. When your physical and mental health declined, Shinsuke had offered to be the sole provider. When you accepted, you hadn't thought it would be putting such a strain on him, but, looking back... the medical bills, the medications: none of it is cheap.

"My surgery alone was-"

He cuts you off. "Don't."

But you're already halfway out the door.

"I'm canceling my doctor's appointments-" Your cellphone is on the kitchen table and you're at the top of the stairs. "We can't afford this-"

Kita stops you with a hand around your wrist. He doesn't tug, but he holds, stopping you from descending. A wave of nausea hit you as your brain finally begins to process the numbers.

"No."

You take a breath. Then, another. Neither center you.

"This isn't a discussion, Shinsuke."

"You're right. There's no discussion." His face is set, deeply serious. His eyes are wide, terracotta against his ever graying hair, so young and so old all at once. "You are going to your appointments and getting what you need. We'll pay for it."

Every emotion inside of you feels carbonated- stimulated, rising, and no where to go. "We can't fucking afford it."

Kita blinks at the curse, flinching at the shock. After a pause, he opens his mouth to speak, only for a warbled sound to come out. The tremble of his lower lip shocks you, as does the wet threatening to spill over his waterline. Instinctively, you reach for him, and he does the same, holding you at arms distance.

"I don't care." His voice is barely whole. "I'd rather lose the house."

"You don't mean that." You grip on to his shirt and it wrinkles in your hands. It's tattered at the edge, hand sewn as a temporary fix. "Your grandfather's house."

Kita sniffles. He tries to smile, but it falls flat immediately after.

"I'm so sorry that I failed you as a husband." He says, more stern than you ever thought possible, while being so brittle. "But I'd sell the clothes off my back before I did anything to sacrifice your health."

The anger inside you hasn't died, but you're able to tuck it away and hold on to the love you feel.

"Don't say that," you say. "If I was healthy-"

"I failed because you feel like that."

[raitonsfw]

Idk if people usually ask for this or not, but I'd love to see sfw hc of Gojo and reader first falling in love with each other (sort of like love at first sight/meeting for both of them or smthing). It doesn't matter if it's when they're teenagers or adults 💞

synopsis: a sfw requested variety piece of gojo and reader falling in love - in this case teen!gojo and reader.

warnings: gn!reader, teen!gojo, sorcerer!reader, both are high school students, geto suguru mention, love at first sight, slight talk of violence involving curses, gojo's a bit pretentious (I mean...confident?), he's got a hat on cuz he was playing baseball prior, its short mah bad.

a/n: decided to make this a two-three parter just cuz i wanted to write teenage gojo AND adult gojo... and maybe their life after they get together in a small one shot mayhaps? wc: 600ish. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

•┈••✦ your teenage years were nothing short of good luck– the white haired boy staring at you from the other side of the hallway as you tried to master your cursed technique. you were stationed out in the garden area when you felt his eyes on you; practically drinking in your every move with his best friend trying to nudge him out of the way as he had stopped walking right in front of him. 

•┈••✦ he just found you so beautiful, completely in awe and he nearly bounced off the walls when he found out your name from geto suguru, the best friend who was just trying to walk down the hallway behind him. apparently you were an exchange student, from one of the sister schools– trying to hone their skills through one of the prodigy students who was supposed to be assigned to you soon.

•┈••✦ you didn’t know who was going to be; you just remember being told it was someone who was destined to be one of the greatest sorcerers of all time, so it got you a bit on edge. the classroom was empty as you waited patiently for the other student and of course, who ends up stumbling late with a backwards baseball cap on? 

•┈••✦ gojo satoru — the boy who had ogled at you in the hallway in between the glass separating you two from the space you would take up later in life together.

“Oh, it’s you!”

Your face immediately flushed red as Gojo pointed at you, the baseball falling to the floor as his jaw dropped. It bounced towards you and you caught it in your palm in a light bend, an awkward chuckle leaving you as you stood up to hand it back to him. “I beg your pardon?” 

His usual facade — the cocky student that crowded the hallways with nothing but pride spilling from his lips — had collapsed as you approached him; his breath was literally pulled from his lungs as he took in your beauty, his words suddenly feeling like lead on his tongue. You were so much prettier up close in the dewy glow that framed you– golden dripped amongst your features and it made your eyes sparkle as you looked at him, waiting for an answer. 

Suguru warned him about this– don’t make the mistake of falling in love. Or else the curses would crawl from the corners of the Earth and take what was his, bloodshed within the sharp edges of their teeth– but he was Satoru Gojo. He could handle a million curses with his stained hands if it meant he could get you to love him sincerely– or maybe just go out on a date with him?

You had noticed his eyes were brighter than you mistook through the paneled glass of the school back in the garden and it made you incredibly flustered as he basically stared you down. You knew of his clan, of everything that made him a Gojo– but you didn’t expect his eyes to be almost glowing within the midst of the breaking daylight. 

Suddenly his hand wrapped around the baseball, brushing it against your own as he plucked it from you. You swore that the clouds had stopped moving outside as you looked down at your hand absentmindedly, then back to the baseball as he threw it in the air.

You made the mistake of looking back up into his eyes that held you hostage– taking in everything that he had to offer you. His smile had you almost falling to your knees, complete with a coy endeavor as he decided to dodge your empty question, his slick demeanor taunting you because he wasn’t like this seconds ago.

“Your technique needs work. But I’m here to help you.” A flash of his perfect teeth and a wink that shrouded the blue depth of the vividness, you knew right then and there you had to make him yours. 

“I’m Satoru. Don’t bother calling me by my surname– it’ll be yours soon.” 

taglist: @izakyun | @classyempathmongercloud | @satorawrrr | @noxioustoxin | @rubyparsonx | @mirrors-musings | @faerie-soirxx | @salmonpoki

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN GRANDMA!! You already know what I want, nay, what I crave when the days get shorter and the only thing that brings me any solace is my favorite rarepare. Please, Tonks x Percy siat - specifically something abouth Tonks telling Percy about her powers maybe, just an incredibly intimate scene please and thank you 😩🧡

The first time Percy rushes to the St. Mungo's on the heal of a battle and bursts into Tonk's room, he doesn't understand why he'd needed to threaten his way in in the first place. She's stripped to her underwear and looks perfectly fine.

But there are three healers surrounding her and completely ignoring him. "Time?" the oldest asks, her hair pure white and her face a layer of wrinkles.

Tonks closes her eyes. "Eighty seconds."

"External first," she says briskly. "It doesn't do us any good if you bleed out."

She breathes out.

Then blood floods across her body, soaking the bed instantly as wounds big and small erupt over her skin. In some places he sees flashes of what he thinks are bone.

Tonks doesn't scream as magic starts flying, and he doesn't either, keeping himself plastered to the wall.

"Internal," the healer says.

What little of her skin he can see beneath the blood pales and they're casting more healing spells, longer and more complicated the any he's heard before.

"Head," she says. "Go slow."

Tonks swallows and then there's another rush of blood as her eyes roll and she passes out and all three of the healers are flinging spells with a speed and intensity he didn't know was possible.

He's almost grateful that he can't see what injury they're treating.

Then the other two step back and the old healer casts a diagnostic spell that Percy tries to interpret and can't. Her shoulders drop and she says, "Good," casting a scourgify to take care of the blood and pulling the blanket over her with a flick of her wand.

She turns, noticing Percy for the first time. Instead of anger, she just raises an eyebrow. "You're the boyfriend, then?"

He really hates what that implies about how often Tonks needs to be treated by healer quite this talented. "Is she going to be okay?"

His stomach had twisted itself in nots but it finally starts ease when she gives a short nod. "We'll let her get some rest and keep her overnight from observation." She tilts her head to the side. "I'd kick you out, citing the no visitors policy for this ward, but you're already here. Seems like a big of wasted effort."

"A bit," he agrees, pulling a chair next to Tonks's bedside and collapsing into it. "Thank you."

~

Tonks wakes up slowly, feeling the hospital sheets that she hates with the smell she can't stand and she's already trying to figure out how she can get herself released early without bringing Nanu's wrath down on her.

She pushes herself upright - or tries to. She can't mover her arm.

She looks down, alarmed, but her arm is just being used as a pillow.

By Percy, who's asleep and hunched over her bed. Percy, who needed to be coaxed and cajoled into leaving his desk for so much as a tea is here. He doesn't even have any scrolls or work spready out. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't, but he's just here, and from the way his clothing's rumpled he's been here for a while.

Tonks's heart feels so full.

She's going to marry him.

He only just accepted that they were dating, so she'll give him some time before introducing the concept of marriage, but she knows. This man is going to be her husband someday.

[universallychaoticpan]

Walk me home~

bsd men walking you home when you're (both) drunk

(TW for brief references to alcoholism.)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Kunikida)

It wasn't like you had a low tolerance or anything; seriously, you could drink most people you knew under the table. But between the rich warmth of the summer night making you feel alive and the Dazai's deceptively adorable smile, you'd both passed tipsy about an hour ago.

But he was still in the right frame of mind to know there was no way in hell he was letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night. Nope. Kunikida could think he was an idiot all he wanted, but he had enough common sense (even while drunk) to know that that was a bad idea. And even though he trusted you to protect yourself, weapons and abilities hardly ever mixed well with alcohol.

Thus began your stumble back to your apartment, the two of you cackling madly every time you bumped into one another. Suddenly, all of his stupid joked were just hilarious, and his kisses tasted sweeter than nectar. He kissed you against streetlamps, sent you both tumbling into alleys as he tried to kiss you against walls, twirled you around as you giggled like a child. At a normal time, passersby would've scoffed at your behavior, and for good reason. But it wasn't a normal time- it was the middle of the night when the moon burned bright and high in the sky, when the taste of liquor on your tongues complimented the gleam in your eyes perfectly.

You were happy, giddy, in love- the night was warm and seemed to e holding its breath, waiting for something magic.

But you collapsed into the doorway of your apartment, still giggling between one another, his shirt collar in your fist as you pulled him into a kiss.

The next morning, you would wake up on the floor, his coat draped over you like a blanket as you used his chest as a pillow, his hand in your hair and a headache in your skull. But the morning didn't matter. All that mattered was your laughter, his mouth, and the stars swimming in your eyes, bright as galaxies.

You had been at the Mafia party for almost four hours now- that was after it had taken Chuuya days to convince you to go in the first place. But finally, you'd gotten dressed, fixed your hair, taken his breath away and attended on his arm.

And somehow, you managed to drink enough fine wine that your cheeks were flushed and your hair was falling fetchingly around your face.

You stood on the mezzanine of the grand room, watching people mingle and laugh below, listening to the soothing hum of chatter as you raised your glass to your lips again. Before you could take a longer sip, you felt a cool, gentle hand pulling the glass away.

"They really should warn people how easy it is to loose self control with this stuff." Chuuya's voice was like a balm on your hot skin as he slid his arm around your waist, standing beside you as he finished your glass. "You've had what, three glasses? And you've got that dreamy, far away look- like your just gonna close your eyes and float away." He snorted. "If I was a better person, I'd regret dragging you here."

You laughed, the sound escaping your lips like the ringing of bells.

"Don't be mad," you smiled. "if anything, be happy i now understand your appreciation for finery."

He smiles. "You're the finest thing in my life, so how about I get you out of here before we regret staying longer."

Too sleepy to argue, you let him lead you out of the grand room, the glitter of the party soon replaced by the gleam of the city at night. You stared out of the window of your car as you leaned against his shoulder, watching the city rush past in a blur of color and light, your eyes half closing as the warmth of the wine flowed through you.

"you know something?" you mused, only half conscious as Chuuya's hand rested gently on your shoulder. "Feeling like this..it's no wonder people are alcoholics."

Chuuya chuckled in spite of himself. "You wanna know something? When I tell you all about everything you said tonight in the morning, the look on your face is going to be sweeter than any wine."

You snorted, pushing at him playfully. "You're such a dick," you smiled.

"Yeah? Well I love you." He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you rested your head on his chest, a yawn forcing itself out of you.

"Shut up," you murmured, though not unknindly , the smile on your lips evident in your voice as you drifted off.

Kunikida had no idea how he'd gotten here.

The evening had been normal enough- some of the older agency members sticking around to chat after work, namely Dazai, Ranpo, Yosano, you, and himself. Then chatting turned to dinner, the five of you eating in a circle in the middle of the room. Then, dinner had turned into Dazai running out of the office in a hurry, returning ten minutes later carrying several bottles of cheap booze. After that- well things had gotten strange.

Kunikida wasn't a lightweight, but he also had a sort of self control the rest of you seemed to have lost. He sat on his chair, watching the rest of you roar with laughter at the stupidest things, watching you make up drinking games, watching you forget your troubles as you drank among friends.

But of course, all good things had to end. Eventually, everyone said their goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Which left you and Kunikida alone to walk the short distance to his apartment.

Now.

You weren't unsteady on your feet, but you had a tendency to wander even when sober. Whatever had been in your cup hadn't made that any different, so he made sure to keep his hand wrapped around yours lest you stumble into a light pole. He smiled in spite of himself as you mumbled happily to yourself, swinging your clasped hands between the two of you.

"You're an oddly adorable drunk you know," he muttered, a small, affectionate smile gracing his usually serious face.

"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," you replied, turning around and placing your hands on your hips like a pouting child. "I'm adorable all the time."

Kunikida snorted, but he didn't disagree as he walked you up the stairs to your place.

He let you get into bed and was about to go finish a few things when you reached out- reaching for him.

"Stay" you mumbled, face squished against your pillow. "Want you to stay here."

"Come on, y/n, I'll be back in a minute- just have to finish some things."

"Nope. Here. Now"

You stared at each other for a second, your eyes still challenging even in your giggly, drunken haze. Finally, he relinquished. You were the only one he'd do that for.

"You're such a brat you know," he said as he got into bed beside you, pulling you into him.

"Yeah I know," you replied.

"But you love me."

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part one - Home

After 50 years without his mate, Rhysand is finally free and Home.

Warnings - Rhysand's SA trauma is alluded to, depression is alluded to, terrible self care is seen from Rhiannon the OC. Oh, and as always unedited 💜

A/n - this ended up being a 4 part thing, and they are all scheduled to be posted 2 days apart (because I don't want to make you all wait when I am PROUD of the final smut scene) Each jumps is month into Rhysand being home. Each part gets spicier with time. Each part was also written with different songs involved and in mind. "Home" by MGK, Bebe Rexha, and X Ambassadors was trapped in my mind during this part

Part Two Part Three Part Four

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Rhys collapsed on the floor of the House of Wind. He was panting before finally breaking down. His arms wrapped around his torso as sobs tore through him. "Rhys?!" The sound of heels slapping against the floor came before arms were around him. "You're home."

He found himself clinging to Mor, head buried into her neck. "Mor, what happened?" A deep voice came into the room followed by heavy foot steps. "Rhys? Az!" Mor pulled away, allowing Cassian to fall before Rhys and pull him into another tight hug. "Let's get you inside, brother."

Rhys allowed him to support him and move him into the living room. Shadows had begun to scurry, moving with a purpose as Azriel appeared in the room and then froze. He walked to Rhys as if he was seeing a ghost, his scarred hands holding his face before his own tears began to fall and they embraced.

"Why are we all gathered in the living room? Food is that-" Amren stopped mid sentence, dropping the flute of blood she was holding. Azriel released Rhysand, backing away to be held by Cassian as the ancient being approached. "Do not ever scare us like that again, boy."

Rhys couldn't help but to laugh and nod before feeling shocked as Amren buried her face into his chest and held him. The Inner Circle stood in silence and tears. Before the question Rhys had since landing finally came out of his mouth. His voice was broken, confidence leaving his body as he asked, "Where is my wife?"

—------------

Rhiannon was hunched over a desk. She was reading through countless reports that had suddenly shown up once the barrier broke.

She refused to go to dinner, choosing to instead distract herself with work. The House had tried pulling her chair from under her, a shadow had tried dragging her out of his office, and the faelights had flickered indicating to her someone had entered her home, but Rhiannon didn't move.

She'd rather work herself to death or starve than get her hopes up that her mate was finally home. She'd rather be burned on an Autumn Court Pyre than allow her heart to break any further than it had.

50 years. 50 long years without Rhysand. Without hearing his laugh. Without the smell of citrus and salt. Without feeling his hands on her body, his lips on hers. 50 years without hearing the sound of his voice. She was broken. Broken from the nightmares he unknowingly sent down the bond. Broken from his last words to her being a command to stay in the House of Wind. Broken from feeling the bond they had never closed grow colder than ice.

Another shadow came, Weaving into her hair to let her know her true brother, Azriel, was thinking of her. That he wanted her to come downstairs and eat. "Tell your master I will eat later. I'm busy reading 50 years of reports from Illyria."

—---------

Azriel sighed deeply, looking at Cassian and shaking his head. "She's going to work herself to death." Cassian whispered as they watched Rhys stare at her chair. "He needs her."

Azriel stood. "I will be right back." Rhysand shook his head, standing next.

"You stay. I'll go." He took his whiskey with him, moving out of the room. "I'll be back soon. I'll just pull rank on her."

—-------

Rhiannon sighed in annoyance as the door opened. "I told you I'd eat later, Az. Fuck off." Rhys watched her. Her long dark brown hair was falling in waves to her hips. Her hazel eyes were reading through paper after paper, marking things she had questions over before moving to the next.

She was wearing a beautiful black dress that dipped low in the front, allowing him a view of her tan skin, of her full breasts, her toned stomach. She was thinner than when he had left, causing his heart to ache. He sat across from her, slightly shocked when she didn't look up. He wanted to pull her into his lap, to hold her, to cry into her shoulder. But he would wait. Wait until they had spoken about the choices he made.

"Just say what you want to say and leave, Azriel. I'm genuinely not in the mood."

He chose then to open the bond. It flooded both of them, causing Rhiannon to drop the paper she was holding. "There's 50 years of things I'd like to say to you, wife." He took a sip of his whiskey as she was taking uneven breaths to try to regain stability from the emotions taking over her own. "I'd prefer to eat first though, and then we could speak later tonight at the River House. Away from everyone else." She gave him no reaction. Shock was sitting in the middle of their bond, blocking him from her feelings, her mind, her needs.

"Please come eat with us. I-" His eyes squeezed shut as her emotions began to hit him. Her longing, her love, her needs, her stresses. "I need us all to eat together. I need family dinner. The papers can wait. They've waited 50 years, darling."

Rhiannon stood, moving to be directly in front of her husband as he stood. She had not spoken. Hands shaking as she lifted them to touch his face before stopping. He realized slowly that she already knew. She knew what had happened to him. What he had done. "You were actually there in those dreams, weren't you?" His voice was broken as he tried to step away from her before her hands shot to his wrists. "Rhi-"

"Please don't pull away from me. I won't touch you without your permission. I'll do whatever you need. Just please don't do what I can feel you thinking about."

Rhys nodded. His own hands trembling as he laced their fingers together and took a deep breath. "It might be awhile, Rhiannon."

She shook her head rapidly. "I don't care. It doesn't matter as long as you are here. I'd wait forever for you." The sentence was all it took for him to pull her into his arms, releasing a sob of relief as she whispered how much she loved and adored him.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Mirror in the Sky

I expanded on this.

18+ MINORS DNI for smutty thoughts and very slight smut

Tw: Child abuse, neglect, possible eating disorders, implied homophobia, Steve, Chrissy, and Eddie have shitty parents

Eddie's body was pressed fully against her, her back laid flat against the bottom of the boat. The tarp was covering their heads. Chrissy was trying not to enjoy the feeling of Eddie's full weight on top of her. Everything else was uncomfortable, however. She shifted her hips, accidentally pushing them further into Eddie's.

"Stop it," he hissed.

"Sorry."

That's when she felt it between her legs, so close to her entrance. Eddie cursed. There was no way for him to turn so she wouldn't feel his erection. God, she wanted to move her hips against it but it was a really bad time to tease him.

"Fuck, sorry," he whispered.

"Heat of the moment, I guess," Chrissy whispered back.

Eddie buried his face into Chrissy's neck so he could laugh.

"Fucking Asia," Eddie smiled.

She could feel his smile against her neck, and she placed a hand on the back of his neck. Any other movements would rock the boat, she realized. The door to the boathouse was pushed open, and people came in. She could hear them whispering, but she didn't know what they were saying. Her hearing was impaired by Eddie's hair. She recognized Steve Harrington's voice, though, and she grinned. She could feel Eddie tense up, and she couldn't blame him. The whole town already hated him, and she knew that they would blame him for that boy dying in his trailer park. Whatever killed him, they both knew that it was coming for Chrissy. Their only option had been to run. Suddenly, their voices grew closer, and Eddie reacted quickly. He jumped out of the boat. She heard the sound of a beer bottle breaking, and she scrambled out of the boat to find Eddie slamming Steve against the wall.

"EDDIE!" Chrissy screamed with the boy beside her.

This must be Dustin, she realized. The boy who had become like a brother to Steve.

"Eddie! It's me, Dustin! We're not going to hurt you! We're here to help you!" Dustin yelled.

Chrissy knew Steve. She had hooked up with him after Nancy broke up with him when they were both questioning their sexualities. She knew the faces he'd make when he tried to hold back, and she knew he liked being manhandled. As serious as the situation was, she couldn't help but think about what would happen if the three of them were alone. Eddie's knee was in between Steve's leg, the beer bottle pressed against Steve’s skin. Steve had dropped the oar, and his face looked stressed. If Chrissy was anyone else, she'd think he was scared, but Steve was more than capable of pushing Eddie away. Steve was struggling, though, to not show what he was feeling in front of the others. Steve caught Chrissy's eyes. She smirked, and his hazel eyes flashed with annoyance. The others were trying to talk Eddie down, who was still frightened, and he didn't seem to want to let Steve go. The bottle relaxed in Eddie's hand as he continued to look at Steve, and he seemed to suddenly become aware of their position. Chrissy didn't realize how loud or heavy she was breathing until Eddie spoke, and he was looking at her.

"Are you okay, Chrissy?" Eddie asked.

"Uh," Chrissy said, looking down and closing her eyes. "Just give me a minute. . .I think I'd feel better if you let Steve go."

If she squeezed her legs together, she'd give it away. . .or maybe they would just think she had to pee. Chrissy was just thankful she wasn't a guy. It would have been a lot more noticeable. Eddie collapsed on a box after releasing Steve, turning his legs away from them while Steve bent over and faced the wall. He was massaging this throat. Chrissy smirked and bit her lip. It was the worst time in the world to feel these things, but their emotions were all over the place, and maybe it was the fact that they could die at any moment that fanned the flames any further. Chrissy reached Steve at the same time that Robin did.

"Steve?" Robin asked.

Chrissy smiled. She knew that Robin was Steve’s best friend. When she was with Jason, she only had a couple of moments where she could catch up with Steve without making him jealous. Chrissy didn't have to worry about him anymore since she broke up with him after the deal with Eddie in the woods.

"I'm fine, Robin," Steve said.

"I'm sure you are," Chrissy said.

"Shut up, Chris," Steve snorted.

"Wait, Chris, as in - I thought it was a guy!" Robin hissed.

"Not a guy," Steve smirked.

"You told me that you and Chris were figuring things out and - wait, how did she do that to you?!" Robin asked.

Chrissy put a hand to her mouth, giggling quietly. Her mind flashed back to that incident when Steve broke up with Nancy, and she had just gotten into a fight with her mother. Chrissy had felt like she was losing herself in her mother's expectations, and she was drowning. She went to the person who always made her feel safe, someone who understood because his parents were like hers. Chrissy had been caught by her mother with one of her fellow cheerleaders, and she had been struggling to figure if she also liked men. Meanwhile, Nancy had been the only girl Steve had been with before he had been gay and he had only slept with men. He needed to know that it had all been real. Falling into bed had been the next logical, safe step for them. She remembered dressing like a man, the smell of the aftershave she had put on, and bending Steve over to eat him out like he was a girl. She remembered the way he looked in her pearls and her makeup. Chrissy could feel her face heating up at the thought.

"This is why I didn't use pronouns," Steve whispered to Robin.

"Okay, I don't know what's happening here," Dustin said. "The bigger issue is what happened at the trailer park."

The severity of the situation sobered them all up pretty quickly.

"Right," Chrissy said, sharing a look with Eddie.

Eddie and Chrissy told them about the man levitating in the middle of the trailer park. They told them how he died, how he was crushed as if it was from the inside out.

"Before, it was like. . .it was someone - ," Eddie sighed.

"It was like someone was in his head," Chrissy said.

Another neighbor had pointed their finger at Eddie, and he had grabbed Chrissy's hand, running to his van immediately. They had found their way here where they remained hidden. They had spent the night talking, curled up in each other's arms, and sometimes, they just went quiet. Chrissy had realized that then that the man who was haunting her dreams was after her next and that he might just be real. While she was saying that now to the group, she felt Eddie reach for her hand and squeeze it tightly. At the same time, Steve had reached for her other hand and held tightly in his. The fear that had been brought to the surface suddenly was starting to ebb away, but it was still there, lurking in the corner.

"I don't know, do you think that someone should be with the kids?" Chrissy frowned.

"We'll back. We're just checking things out," Nancy reassured her.

Things had gone by quickly after that, or it seemed to, but it had been a couple of days. Nancy's friend, Fred, died. The entire town now thought Eddie had killed them both along with Patrick and that he had kidnapped Chrissy. That was all thanks to Jason, who thought he was saving her, but he was only getting in the way. Lucas had joined them, just when they had all discovered that Max was next. Chrissy was determined not to let that happen because she happened to like her, and she knew that Eddie liked living across from her as well despite the fact that Max had been weary of him. It wasn't her fault, Eddie had told Chrissy, Billy had given her the wrong impression of people like him. Although, sometimes, people grouped them together, but Billy and Eddie had nothing in common. That girl needed a win. They all did.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Robin asked Steve.

He had stood up and began taking off his shoes.

"Going down there," Steve said. "Someone needs to check things out."

"And it has to be you?" Robin asked.

"Uh, unless anyone else was on the swim team or did a summer as a lifeguard? No? Okay, then," Steve said.

He slipped off his sweater and tossed it at Eddie. Chrissy giggled at the look on his face, and she could have sworn that he smelled the sweater a bit. Eddie looked at Steve, gazing at him. Chrissy noticed the way his eyes couldn't look away from Steve's shirtless form. He admired his chest hair, and she knew from experience herself that he was probably wondering how far the moles went down.

"He looks good, doesn't he?" Chrissy asked, lowering her voice for Eddie.

"I like cheerleaders!" Eddie blurted out.

"Yeah, who doesn't?" Steve scoffed. "That was random."

"Cheerleaders are great," Chrissy whispered to Eddie. "I like them, too. I also like jocks and oblivious metalheads."

Eddie blushed and focused on wrapping a plastic bag around a flashlight.

"Hey, Steve," Eddie said and handed him the flashlight. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Steve said smiling at him.

Chrissy blew him a kiss. Steve laughed and held it close to his chest like he always did before sending one back to her. She caught it and stuck it in her bra. Steve giggled before jumping into the water. An eerie silence fell over them as they waited for Steve to resurface. Chrissy's hand slid into Eddie's, and she interlaced their fingers together. Suddenly, Steve’s head popped up, and he clung to the edge of the boat.

"Yeah, there's definitely a gate down there. Not a mama sized gate, more like a snack sized gate," Steve said.

Chrissy sighed and shared a look with Eddie before turning to Steve.

"Okay, get your ass back into the boat, Harri - STEVE!" Chrissy screamed.

Suddenly, Steve was yanked back down into the water. Chrissy moved to the edge of the boat, prepared to jump in. Eddie grabbed her hand.

"Chrissy!" Eddie yelled.

"It's Steve," Chrissy said.

Eddie stared at her before standing up with her and squeezing her hand tightly. He jumped into the lake with her. It was a blur after that. They saved Steve together, Chrissy and Eddie standing over him with oars in their hands. It helped Steve save himself and rip a bat in half with his feet. Chrissy looked over at Eddie, staring at Steved in awe. She wasn't the only one who thought it was hot. Unable to get back through the gate, Chrissy and Eddie helped a wounded Steve to shelter under Skull Rock. They leaned him down against the rock wall and knelt down in front of him. Tears came to Chrissy's eyes as she looked at his gruesome bites and the road wash on his arms. She hated seeing Steve like this.

"I got this if you don't want to do it," Eddie said softly.

"No, I'm good. I hate seeing Steve in pain. I always have," Chrissy said and looked Steve in the eyes.

"Just think about something else," Steve said, knowing it was pointless to stop her.

Chrissy slipped off her jacket, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that she was still in her uniform. Her hair was down in a mess of waves, having lost her scrunchie a long time ago. Eddie quickly ripped a strip off the bottom of his shirt, turning it into a crop top. Chrissy stared at his midriff at the same time that Steve did. She snapped out of it, and together, they wrapped Steve in their clothing. Chrissy smirked.

"I'm suddenly thinking about the last time I was on my knees in front of you," Chrissy said.

"I just want to point out that it was your idea," Steve said. "And I'm just thankful that you didn't use me like one of your pen caps."

"I'm not apologizing for enjoying how I use my mouth or that I like putting good things in it," Chrissy said.

"And you shouldn't," Steve said.

"Okay, I get it. You two used to fuck," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"There's no need to be jealous, Eddie," Chrissy said, giggling.

"There really isn't," Steve smirked.

"He doesn't know," Chrissy said to Steve.

"Yeah, I figured," Steve said.

"Know what?" Eddie asked, and they shook their heads. "Know what?!"

"We should talk about when this all over with," Chrissy said.

"And if we all die before that happens?" Eddie asked.

"We're not going to let that happen," Chrissy said.

"Some things are out of your control, Cunningham," Eddie said. "I guess I can wait. Keep your secrets."

They helped Steve up, and as they were leaving the shelter, the ground began to shake. Eddie and Chrissy fell into Steve’s arms, arms that quickly wrapped around their stomachs. Chrissy looked down and could see Steve’s large hand now splayed across Eddie exposed stomach. Chrissy could hear Eddie's breathing get heavier. Was it a mixture of fear or awareness of Steve’s skin against his own? Even though Steve was injured, he held onto them both rather tightly. It was nice, Chrissy thought, the both of them being in his arms, and Eddie clearly thought so, too. Eventually, the ground stopped shaking, and they got up. Chrissy started flirting with Steve again, and she giggled when Eddie threw his vest at Steve.

"For your modesty," Eddie had claimed.

"Yeah, Steve, cover up those tits. Heaven forbid you offend anyone around here," Chrissy giggled and Eddie playfully glared at her.

"I just - he shouldn't be such a distraction," Eddie huffed.

"And who am I distracting?" Steve asked in amusement.

"I don't know! The bats?!" Eddie exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

"Right," Steve and Chrissy said together.

It was fun teasing Eddie, but they were also hoping that it came off as encouraging, too. It's alright. They were safe with this. Eddie couldn't figure out why Steve and Chrissy were giggling, though, when Eddie tried to push Steve towards Nancy.

"In another life, maybe," Steve said to him. "The love will always be there, but I've got my eye on someone else."

Steve shared a look with Chrissy and Eddie groaned. Chrissy wondered if he knew which one he was jealous of or if he was jealous of both of them. Everything was a blur again once they made it out of the Upside Down. Although they didn't get away without Nancy getting cursed and getting a glimpse of Vecna's plan. After that, it was figuring out what they were going to do. Chrissy wasn't sure how they were going to do it, but she agreed with Nancy. They had to try.

Chrissy walked into the RV. Her new earphones pressed firmly over her head. Her other Walkman had gotten ruined during the trip into Lover's Lake. Landslide by Fleetwood Mac was playing in her ears. It was her all-time favorite song, and it was helping her keep Vecna out of her head. Steve and Eddie were talking on the couch, so close their knees were touching. She couldn't hear anything over the sound of the music, but it was alright. She was content just to watch them. The way they smiled, the way their eyes twinkled. . .it was all so beautiful. They both were and watching them fall for each other had been the highlight for her during this tragedy. Her heart leaped in her throat, or rather, it felt like it when she realized what had been missing for her and Steve. They hadn't known it at the time, but the missing piece of the puzzle had been Eddie.

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Chrissy slid the headphones down and placed them on her neck as she approached the men.

"Hello, boys," Chrissy greeted.

They both beamed at her. She always loved Steve’s hazel eyes and the way they looked at her. He had always seen her, and she had always seen him even when he wasn't at his best. Getting to know Eddie was a new adventure for both of them. Eddie's wide brown eyes were looking at her in much the same way that Steve was looking at her. Robin was right to describe them as doe eyes. Steve held out his arms and looked at her questioningly.

"Only if it's okay," Chrissy said.

"You're making that face again like you need a cuddle, and I know that I need a cuddle, so yeah, more than okay," Steve said.

Like she had done many times before, she slid comfortably into Steve's lap. It felt a lot like coming home, and she realized how long it had been since they had done this. Steve wrapped his arms around her, pressing his cheek against her chest while she wrapped an arm around his neck. Chrissy grinned mischieviously at Eddie and stretched her legs out in his lap.

"How long have you guys known each other?" Eddie asked.

"Childhood friends," Chrissy replied.

"We grew up in the same foxhole," Steve replied.

"We practically had the same parents who planned out our entire lives for us," Chrissy said.

"What we wore," Steve said. "Although, I had a lot more freedom with that than Chrissy did."

"Who are friends are," Chrissy sighed. "Although, I got lucky with Steve."

"Yeah, we did," Steve smirked.

"And they've tried to tell us who we should date," Chrissy said, and she giggled. "But we rebeled against that pretty hard."

"But because of that, they cracked down pretty hard on other things," Steve said.

"Like what we ate," Chrissy pouted.

"What you ate?!" Eddie asked.

"My dad started insisting that I eat more," Steve said.

"And my mom insisted that I'd eat less," Chrissy frowned.

"Both of them were good at finding your weakness and just - ," Steve sighed.

"Manipulating into doing what they wanted," she said. "I'm grateful we had each other. . .although sometimes, life got in the way of our relationship."

"We always found our way back to each other," Steve said.

Chrissy smiled and gave his lips a gentle, quick kiss. Eddie huffed, and she looked at him questioningly.

"I'm still stuck on the whole thing about your parents controlling what you eat," Eddie said. "I mean, there were times when my dad would leave me home by myself, not fucking giving a damn, and I'd just practically starve so I can't comprehend people using food as a way to control people. I'm not saying I don't believe you but my own father was manipulative piece of shit who left me to clean up his own fucking mess. . .I didn't think that - ,"

Eddie's voice came to a stop. His eyes were full of guilt. He might not have judged others in the way that people have judged him, but still, he did it. It wasn't what people liked that was the problem. It was how people perceived it, and their perceptions got skewed along the way. People just wanted to make people see things the way they saw them, and sometimes they wanted them to see it whether they wanted to or not. In a lot of ways, it's done good doing that, but in a lot of ways, it's not so good. And if Chrissy has learned anything, it's that you can't force your views onto other people. You can only share them. Chrissy was glad that Eddie had changed his perception of them both, as they did with him, and she was glad they had come to the conclusion themselves. She just wished that all this didn't have to happen for them to see that.

"It's not easy living in the bubble," Chrissy said. "We may appear perfect on the outside but it's utter chaos, honestly, and not in a good way."

"Money doesn't make everything easier," Steve said. "We still struggle with everything they've done to us."

"Yeah, same here," Eddie said, frowning.

"I think what makes everything better is having heart, having compassion, and understanding for the people who you care about," Chrissy said.

"You have a lot of heart, Chrissy Cunningham," Eddie said.

"So do you," she replied. "And you, Steve. . .have a lot of hair."

"And a lot of ass," Eddie laughed.

"Nice, guys, I'm more than just a piece of meat," Steve said, rolling his eyes, but he was smiling slightly.

"We're just kidding, baby," Chrissy said. "You have the biggest heart of all us."

Eddie was gazing at Steve, who was smiling bashfully now. His head was tilted back, exposing the bruise around his neck. Chrissy could tell that things were really starting to come together for Eddie, and she wondered if it was time to have that talk now. Eddie's eyebrows furrowed.

"Damn, those bats really got you good," Eddie said and pressed a thumb to a cut on his neck.

"Actually," Steve said nervously. "That was from the beer bottle."

Steve had been holding a hand to his neck at the time, so Chrissy hadn't seen the cut and apparently neither had Eddie.

"Shit, Steve, I'm so sorry," Eddie said softly.

"You were scared, I'm not mad at you," Steve said. "In fact, if you hadn't had the beer bottle, if everything hadn't gone so horribly wrong, and we were alone. . .I wouldn't have minded so much that you pressed me up against the wall."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asked with a smirk.

"If you really wanted to make it up to me, you could give it a kiss," Steve said, looking rather hopeful.

Eddie leaned forward and pressed gentle kisses to the area around the cut. Chrissy watched as Eddie worked his way up Steve's neck. Steve's eyes fluttered close as Eddie kissed the wound, making sure the kisses were even more gentle. . .almost featherlight. Chrissy's heavy breathing had returned, and Steve's face looked so beautiful. She really couldn't help herself. Chrissy pressed her lips to Steve's, and he groaned but returned the kiss rather eagerly. She moved her lips with Steve, nibbling and sucking just the way they both liked it. She ran her tongue over his bottom lip when she felt Eddie move closer. She broke the kiss, letting Eddie take her place. Steve kissed him back just as eagerly as he kissed Chrissy. Eddie was more enthusiastic, finally accepting a part of himself that he had been denying. One of Eddie's hands gripped her leg gently. He wanted this, too. He pulled away, gasping for breath like Steve was.

"I know, I fucking get it now," Eddie said.

Chrissy grabbed him by the chin and placed a gentle kiss before pulling away. She leaned her forehead against Eddie's, Steve’s hand rubbing her back soothingly.

"The three of us should fuck after this is over," Chrissy said.

She enjoyed they way they choked on their saliva and the way their cheeks turned red as the image immediately popped into their minds.

"Hell yeah," Eddie said.

"Yeah, no, definitely," Steve swallowed with a grin.

"You're a lot more foward than I thought you'd be," Eddie said.

"Well, I have been very oppressed," Chrissy said. "And life is too short to deny ourselves to deny ourselves what we truly want."

Eddie's hand was rubbing her leg, and Steve's hand was still continuing to stroke her back. It wasn't hard to imagine the things they could do to her or afterward, when she knew they'd take care of her and she'd do the same for them. She could see herself in between them, being held so lovingly, their hands a comforting presence like they were now. The light in the RV changed. The sun would soon set, and the fight would begin. She just hoped they could forgive her for what happened next. She just couldn't let Max be Vecna's bait. She grabbed their hands and dragged them outside so they could enjoy the remaining light of the sun. Hope was on the horizon.

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (30)

***

Reporting to the office takes longer than Vander would like. They spend too long standing over maps of the mine, trying to guess the route they took to get out. It's nearly shift end by the time the supervisors are satisfied and let them go.

Vander just wants to go to bed, to close the door on that little room of theirs and ignore everything outside. But Silco stops when they get to the mess hall.

"You should let your friends know you survived," he says. He hides his scratched fingers in the pockets of his jacket.

"And what are you doing?"

"I should check on the foundlings. There might have been survivors."

Because most of the workers on level three were kids. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Honestly, I'd prefer you weren't there," Silco says with the kind of honesty that comes from complete exhaustion. "We might have to take someone to the river. That would break your heart."

Vander leans in for a hug, holds Silco close. Cheek to cheek, he says softly, "Pretty sure it would break yours too."

"I'm far better at hiding it," Silco replies and Vander can see his point. Vander's never been good at hiding what he feels; it shows on his face and in his voice. If the kids need someone controlled and certain, someone to do what's needed, Silco can hold a steady face.

"Come meet me in the mess hall afterwards?" Vander asks and Silco nods. Maybe the right thing to do would be to run after him, to insist on helping, but Vander’s relieved to avoid it. He's not in a rush to bury teenagers.

Instead, he heads to the mess hall and finds himself tackled by Felicia. It's instinct to catch her.

"Vander! You're okay!"

"A little bruised, but in one piece," Vander says, putting her down. "We got back this afternoon."

Felicia blinks up at him, eyes soft and concerned. "And Silco?"

"The two of us," Vander says and she sags in relief. "We had to dig most of the night, but we made it. Did anyone else…?"

Felicia shakes her head. "Nearly all of level three collapsed. A few miners made it back to the elevator as it came down, but everyone else was lost."

That's nearly two dozen people. Half of the foundling bunks will be empty tonight. Vander has a twinge of conscience, wondering if he should have gone with Silco, and then Benzo's voice is thundering across the courtyard.

"Vander! More lives than a cat, this one!" Benzo has one black eye and an ugly purple bruise across his cheek.

"What happened to your face?" Vander asks, even as Connol walks up with a fat lip and a matching black eye. "Did you two get in a fight?"

"With enforcers," Felicia answers sharply. "These two idiots didn't believe the company when they said level three was unsafe. They tried to sneak in and override the lock on the elevator, and found a bunch of enforcers instead."

"Felicia's just mad that we didn't tell her the plan," Connol says. It looks like it hurts to talk. "It's only because she was arguing with the supervisors, trying to convince them to let us try digging you out."

Vander grins at his friends, bruised and furious on his behalf. Who would have risked their lives to try to save him. "Sounds like the first round's on me. I'll buy the drinks and you can tell me about the daring rescue attempt."

Vander gets to hear the whole story. That it was a handful of miners that complained, not just Felicia, when they announced no rescue attempt. That the supervisors declared it unsafe and locked the elevator, so even if they had managed to dig out that direction, they still would have been trapped that night.

While the supervisors were being yelled at by angry miners, Benzo and Connol took their gear into the mine and pried open the elevator controls. They'd disabled the elevator lock and were working on the grating lock when five enforcers marched on the scene.

"As you can see," Benzo says, nodding at Connol's face, "we weren't stupid enough to fight back."

They all know what happens if you land a lucky punch on an enforcer. A quick transfer to Stillwater and if you're lucky, they'll let you back out in a few years' time.

In turn, Vander tells them about digging their way out and the hidden shrine they found down there. "I think it was Janna," Vander says, shrugging. "It was old. Had an inscription on the wall. Zaun."

Benzo takes a big swallow of his ale. "Could be. My granddad prayed to Janna, and he said his granddad did before him. Maybe people have been praying to her for centuries."

"I'd offer to show you guys but I don't know if we'd find our way back. I stopped paying attention to how many turns we took."

"Pity," Connol says, finishing his drink and standing up. "Does everyone want another?"

Felicia nods, and then curiously watches Connol walk away. She spots Vander noticing, and shrugs it off. "What an idiot. Fighting with enforcers."

Vander grins at her. "Is that what you really think of him?"

"Oh, look," she says, distracting him from his teasing. "It's your other half."

Silco stands in the doorway, scanning the crowd. Anyone else might see the proud tilt of his chin, the judgemental twist of his mouth and assume it's just Silco, mean and cranky as ever. Vander sees something brittle in his expression, like he's holding everything together by willpower alone. "I think that's my cue to leave."

Felicia stands up to let him walk past, and then follows Vander while Benzo protects their table.

"Felicia," Silco says smoothly, giving her a nod. "Good to see you."

Silco looks stunned when Felicia bounces forward and wraps her arms around him. Freezes in place.

"We're glad you're not dead," Felicia says, giving him one more squeeze and then stepping back. "Really."

"Me, too," Silco says wryly.

Felicia smiles, bright and charming. "I mean, can you imagine how Vander would mope around if you hadn't made it out? He'd be insufferable."

"I'll keep that in mind," Silco promises. "But if you'll excuse us, it's been a very long day."

Vander ignores the look Felicia shoots at him. Sometimes Silco – with his sharp mind and love of books – talks like a Piltie and it puts everyone on edge.

"See you tomorrow," Vander says and leads Silco away before Felicia says anything. When the noise of the mess hall is safely behind them, he asks, "Are you okay?"

Silco presses his lips together tightly and shakes his head. They walk back through the old mine, picking their way back carefully through the tunnels, and don't say a thing.

Even when the door is closed behind them and safely latched, Silco only says, "I'm so tired."

"Then let's go to bed," Vander says and leads him to sheets that smell of them, human warmth and animal sweat. He pulls Silco against him and holds him tight.

***

[call-sign-shark]

Hi Shark 💓 I saw your post with the three word sentences and I'd like to request 6. "Be gentle, please." with Tommy. If you're more comfortable with writing for a different character then you're obviously free to do so! 🥰

Hi Daisy! Here we go dear 🥰 Finger crossed, I hope you'll enjoy that Tommy x Reader blurb! Honestly, I really enjoyed writing it.

Words: 993

TW: Smut content but no actual pornographic descriptions, mentions of murder, ambiguous ending (the ending is up to you), reader is nicknamed Hera.

Fire spread under your skin as his strong and calloused hands ran down your naked back to grab your hips in a bruising grip. How did you end up here, laying on the giant fur carpet in front of a fire place with Birmingham’s most infamous gangster touching you? The question had been playing on repeat in your buzzing skull the moment he had laid his fingers on you. A feverish sigh escaped from your quivering lips when Tommy’s hips crashed against yours. The wet caress of his tongue left goosebumps in its trail each time you would feel it on the sensitive flesh of your bosom. It was like the dancing flames of the fireplace, whose hungry tongues of blaze licked the logs that were feeding them until all remained was ashes. You clenched your fist in his dark hair, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back at ocean of pleasure that was drowning you each time his hips moved. As you made love in his living room, the melody of your sighs and flesh snapping filling the room and swirling up to the ceiling, you still tried to gather all your remaining strength to hang on the reason behind your meeting.

“Hera…” He moaned against your breasts, the vibrations of his hoarse voice echoing in your whole ribcage and shattering your bones in a sensual earthquake. Your toes curled as his pace, slow and gentle at first, quickened. Lost in a maze of feelings and lust, your hand left his hair and joined the other one on his broad and muscular back.

“Deeper.” You hissed through your teeth as your nails dug in his skin and pierced his flesh. Your voice, eternally collected, was now shaken by a light tremor you hated to hear. You sounded begging. You sounded desperate. You sounded weak. And only God knew how you despised weakness. Well, not only God but also Luca Changretta, to be true. When the godfather of the American branch of the Sicilian mafia took you under his protective wing, he called you Hera — queen of gods, and furious dishonored wife of a monster. Besides him and a few capo, no one knew where you came from and why Changretta had a soft spot for you. Yet, the story behind your relationship was tragic.

He saw you one dreary summer night, crying outside of the church in your magnificent white dress stained with little crimson droplets. From what he had understand, you had caught your future husband cheating the day of your wedding and he was so enraged you found out about his secret affairs that he had beaten you until your legs collapsed and until your body was black and blue. When Luca Changretta cupped your face and laid a protective kiss on your forehead, he made you a promise: no other men would hurt you again, for he would make the most terrifying and beautiful monster out of you. Luca dived in your eyes and smiled, and as he did Y/N vanished in the aid of this new fierce entity that was now inhabiting you.They said Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and how right they were.

“Fuck —“ Tommy swore, at the edge of climax. All of his muscles tensed under the coiling and maddening pleasure that was consuming him — but Thomas Shelby was as stubborn as you were, and he hated to show any sign of weakness even more than you. That was why he choked his moans against your mouth and let his tongue force its way between your juicy lips. You scratched his back in response, small beads of blood darkening your nails. His pace was now frantic and brutal, turning your love making into more a battle than anything else. Sex was a fight you were both fiercely decided to win. But if Tommy had the rage of winning, you had the disgust of losing.

“Let it go, little boy…” You whispered against his mouth, waving your hips like a dancing succubus willing to milk him from his life. Your victory became evident as you felt Tommy’s legs shaking. He sunk his teeth in your lower lip and growled like an animal as he gave in — blown away by the fiery blaze of his little death, the gangster felt tears dawning at the corner of his turquoise eyes when he came. The burning sensation was so unbearable at some point he thought he was in hell. But was it really hell if he liked the way it burned?

You smirked, enjoying the end of the war you’ve just won.

Tommy and you were now sharing a cigarette, both naked and sitting on the comfortable rug while watching the dying flames that were flickering in the hearth. But despite the doubt that had started to plague your cold mind, you mentally repeated the mantra you lived by for years: You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind… And your goal was to murder Tommy Shelby.

Why?

Because you were the most terrifying and skilled hitman of America, and someone had paid you to kill him.

And you were heartless.

You had not always been like this though… But the young eighteen years old crying princessa Changretta had almost raised had met the same demise as her savior: she was no longer alive. All remained was the still smoking ashes of a maimed heart and an empty body only animated by pure anger.

Tommy had barely stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray nearby when you pressed the cold blade of your knife against the fragile flesh of his throat. Yet, he did not seem surprised. Nor afraid. Quite the contrary, Thomas Shelby was tired. Just… Tired. He looked at you, his sky blue eyes staring into the void that constituted yours, and parted his lips to speak.

“Be gentle, please.”

That was all he said.

Somehow, he did not mind to die if the last embrace given to him was soft — even if it came from Death herself. You could kill him, it did not matter anymore, as long as you were as no one else since Grace had been with him: gentle.

You pulled him in your arms, hugging his exhausted frame in a final clasp, and tightened your grip around the knife.

Fine, you thought, I’ll be gentle then.

[holybibly]

While I'm getting the wolves!MATZ ready to publish, I got to thinking about WooSanSang's submissive sugar babies.

If you're interested, I might turn this into a full, multi-part piece. Would you like to see submissive Ateez in my version? Leave a comment below this post. A sweet, gentle Yeosang puppy with an angelic face just begging to be buried between your legs. His tongue pushes the delicate, wet folds of your pussy apart with a rough insistence; he licks you shamelessly, lapping up all your juices in a noisy way as if he can't get enough of them. He wants to be your perfect, obedient boy. His handsome face rubbing against your cunt, desperate for your praise. The sounds of his enthusiastic slapping are loud and clear. You can hear how San and Wooyoung whimpering and squirming with excitement as Yeosang pleasures you. His pink, kissable lips press possessively against your swollen clit as his tongue flicks across it a few times in a hot and insistent manner. The vibrations of his own moans and sobs stimulate you even more. When his tongue enters your vagina and he licks the throbbing walls greedily, you cum.

When the waves of your orgasm have subsided a little, you pull him away from your pussy by his hair. He looks up at you from where he sits between your legs and says,

"Have I been a good boy to you, Mistress, have I?

You don't have time to answer him, as there is another face between your legs, looking at you with the most seductive of cat eyes. "I can do better, Mistress. Can I have a taste of you?" San presses his face against the inside of your thigh, almost pushing his face into your pussy, and takes a deep breath. His broad shoulders take up almost all of the space and push Yeosang even further away from you. He purses his lips in annoyance and reaches out for your touch as you run your hand over his cheek in affection. "You'll have time, baby." "I'm here for your pleasure, too." Wuyoung's voice booms in your ear before his wet lips begin to plant hot kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck. "Aren't you three just needy little boys, so beautiful, so obedient, and all mine?" "Mmmm…" San moans in affirmation and is already pressing his lips against your wet cunt. He tries to get as much of your juices as he can with his tongue and immediately slides his tongue into your hole."Oh my God, Sanni." You throw your head back as you feel another tongue licking at your folds. "W - Wooyoung, baby, right here." You collapse completely from their actions; they eat you passionately, moaning and sobbing, skilfully caressing your pussy just the way you like it. In the way that you have taught them to do it. "I'm doing this better, aren't I, Mistress?" Yeosang presses his face against your neck and sits down beside you. His fluffy hair tickles your skin."They're getting pretty good with this, my baby; it seems like you're going to have to try harder." You let out a loud moan as Wooyoung's lips closed on your clit.  "I'd love to." He kisses the back of your neck and slides down to the floor, pushing San away from you, who was clearly having the time of his life between your legs.

It looks like it's going to be a long night.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for outing my sisters (SECOND) pregnancy and causing drama

I (20f) am aware that accidents happen, but she doesn't even know the man to her (22f) first (thusly no child support is involved in this equation). Discovery of this information is due to me being the one that does the bathroom trash. It was... not well hidden, to say the least.

Pure flavor and context, our relationship would be less rocky if she had any sense of responsibility at all. From 15 onwards constantly out of money yet up the ass of every hangout/party in town, constantly trying to make it anyone else's job to keep her entertained. Has very much dropped out of college for #1.

But, actual event wise... I get to the trash can, and I'm thinking... oh god, not again. And so soon? Because baby #1 is about 10 months (male if it matters) at sending. Mom has already bent over backwards to handle this without destroying *my* attempts at college, and there's not a doubt in my mind my sister would have gladly gone "Surprise! Not my problem now🎊! " if I'd given her the space to do so.

Phrasing it like that feels mean, but it's been 98% mom doing it all. Diapers, feedings, you name it. If it's not cute enough for social media my sister has not put her hands on it. In my moms fantasy world this was to give my sister the chance to go back to the local college.

Now at first I didn't actually plan to say much of anything. It just... seemed risky in a way I didn't want the backlash for. But a friend of mine and her girlfriend were moving, and their planned roommate bailed, and I do very much have a job an can pay rent. The nitty gritty is way more complicated than that but I'm trying to not bog this down.

I waffle for a couple of days as I process the whole thing but I commit to thinking later and acting now about moving and by what's month 1.75 I'm planning what posters of mine to take/leave. There's been a second confirming test popping up in the trash.

I have to tell my mom, finally, that in three weeks to a month I'm gone. Slightly unsurprisingly, I get asked "Well, why? Why now?"

I did kind of think through it in advance, but honestly every other small reason just... left me? I choked HARD and y'all know the blank "ohshit" moment where you've got Nothing.

It was a messy conversation and I'm skipping a lot, but thankfully dad and sis were out to not hear it. She didn't fully believe me until I walked out the door to the new appartment, and it didn't end there technically, but I just sorta grey rocked it with the sole give that I think mom is going to collapse over this because she's not twenty some anymore chasing *us*, and I think mom wasn't processing it either until I was out the door.

Final stage, I've packed and am seconds from leaving. Mom asks one final question of "What exactly would you suggest here, if it's real, then" in that tone where it's not about getting real answers, it's about shaming me. She is scathingly told to make my sister homeless about it if she doesn't abort, so that it'll maybe motivate her to at least get child support if not put a stop to the slope of shitting them out like litters.

Roommates are fine thus far, but I'm introverted and don't really leave my room unless I need something so the space for conflicts are minimal. So I'm a week into the new apartment (thusly she's 3 to 3.25 months pregnant) when I get a heated, ranting phone call. I sure hope you can figure out who's calling that's *mad*.

First of all apparently I'm a cunt for taking the joy of announcement away from my, as she tried and got "We know." Because that is so fucking important for a college drop out on kid #2 to have, apparently.

More interestingly I'm apparently a double cunt because mom had been toying with asking me for rent, as my sister doesn't work either and babies are expensive. This was not aired to me by mom herself, but even if I hadn't asked her myself afterwards I wouldn't have doubted that part.

And I'm apparently a mega triple cunt, because (as I turned around to interrogate mom about because. What?) mom had a crystalizing moment where it did very much click to her that my sister had no intentions of stepping up in anyway shape or form. Why she's jumped straight to "you abort or gtfo" like I suggested to be an asshole didn't get cleared up to me beyond "No, no. You're right. Responsibility must be taken."

A different friend has asked where the fucks my dad in this; spinless with no opinion because if he dares to dissent he'll implode. Moving on.

I think that while I might have jumped sharks everyone else is now on a plane of drama that I don't need to follow, and should in fact be kept the fuck out of. I also think I've also hit an anger stage of this whole situation so trust in my own narrative should be cautious.

I'm gonna, like, pause the emotional train here? And mention that I'm not asking about moving out. I'll be guilty about moving out specifically when my sister sucks my dick for forgiveness (note my 20f label). But this has dropped an emotional bomb in the family and my friend groups interconnected enough that they'd've heard about it even if I said nothing, and this is now hotly debated (and most of my friends are on mute on my phone lol), and by now it's no secret the ''make her homeless'' idea first came out of MY mouth, no matter how mortifying it is that it was taken seriously on impulse arguing about it is about seven steps behind where the debate needs to be.

Again, I'm at the point of anger feeling good. She gets irresponsibly knocked up once already, drops out of college and refuses to get a job, and then runs off and does it again after dumping all real work onto other people. I think she's lost the right to have happy fun time pregnancy, and I'm here to get a (late) opinion from people decidedly more objective than anyone I can speak to rn. It's not like the pregnancy won't be here in the time this takes to move through queue.

What are these acronyms?

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

The Taming of Man: chapter Twelve - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

I'd say that this took wayyy longer than it should, but I hope it tides you over before the plot continues a little more!

Words: 2,353

This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.

Warnings: Cursing, reader is She/Her and will be AFAB in later chapters

Katsuki isn't a crier. He cried a lot as a kid, but that was because his feelings were too big for his body. Now, He's all grown up, and he doesn't cry anymore...that's what he told himself. He told himself that every day after you left, he tried his best not to, and yet his tears managed to spill by droplet out of his eyes every night, until he gave up and let them come as they are. To be fair, he never had a lot of tears in terms of quantity, but to him even one tear was too many.

This night, the night you collapsed into his arms just as he was devising a plan to go after you, he let himself cry with no inhibitions. As said previously, he didn't have many tears, but each one was so packed with emotion just as he was, that they were worth ten thousand tears. He just gently pulled you down to the ground with him, sitting on the floor as you both cried. Your side was pressed to his torso as you curled into his lap, head on his chest, his arms holding you as if you might leave him forever again.

To him, you left because he wasn't good enough. Ergo, from now on he'll do better. He saw this as a "three strikes your out" sort of situation. Was it right? no. Healthy? Hell no. That said, In a society like his where you had to earn your status through hard work, it was the only logical explanation.

"Katsuki...?"

Your crying had ended, as his did, but now he was just staring at the floor, lost in thought. As soon as you spoke, he perked up, his brows furrowing in something that can only be described as determination.

"Yeah," he asked gruffly, his tired tone not matching his apparent energy.

"I...I'm sorry," you whispered sheepishly, like a child apologizing after being yelled at.

He blinked a couple times, stunned. "For what...?"

he was so wrapped up in what he could have done that he didn't even think about how wrong you were. He did at the beginning, but then when there was nothing left to nitpick there, he began to pick himself apart, and he hasn't quite stopped yet.

You blinked up at him, cocking your head to the side a little. "Uh, well," you started, tittering a little at how absurd this felt. what did he mean, for what? What you did was all you could think about.

"I didn't tell you soon enough, because I was being selfish...I didn't fight against my mother, because I was being cowardly...in fact, I barely fought against her this time..."

Katsuki looked down at you, his hand on your cheek as he mindlessly wiped away your tears. Truth be told, he was hardly listening, you did almost nothing wrong in his mind anyways, all he could think about what how even with puffy red eyes and a snotty nose, you still looked so gorgeous. So beautifully his.

"Well...how'd you get out, anyway," he mumbled softly, all the while memorizing the way those little flecks in your irises danced when the light hit it just right. He got too close to forgetting some of your features last time, and while he'd rather not be in a situation where he'd go without seeing you for a week, he'd also rather not forget a damn thing if the situation arose again.

You laughed dryly, sighing. "That's kind of a long story."

"I've got time."

"How much time?"

"...Enough." For you? All the time. He'd go and steal time itself just to bathe you in it, if you so desired. He'd light time ablaze and watch as it burn if you so much as mentioned disliking it in passing.

You smiled at him, pulling off of his lap so you could sit up in front of him. He kept his hand resting idly on your wrist, his usual vaguely annoyed expression stagnant on his face. You've learned it's just his resting face, the neutral state of his sharp yet somewhat boyish features.

"Mm...I'll start with the night we, uh..."

"Broke up?"

"...yeah."

You told him everything, every detail. He deserved to know after what you put him through. as you did so, you switched positions several times, eventually ending on him laying down as you laid atop him, your head on the left side of his chest, your right hand playing with his hair as your left hand was concealed in his strong, calloused grasp. Meanwhile, his other hand was holding you by your right arm, his own arm bracing your back. Why you were laying on the floor was unclear, perhaps because neither of you had the energy to stand just yet.

As you talked in soft whispers, you allowed your mouth to move on its own, focusing instead on simply sensing Katsuki.

His breathing, slow and heavy, rustling your hair in an almost imperceptible way. His muscled body hardly moving, only slightly shifting to squeeze you every once in while. His scent, permeating through the entire room, of musk and spices and leather. His heartbeat, pounding just slightly harder as your finger gently grazed the extremely light stubble that trailed his jaw.

His face. Oh, that face.

The way his nose gently sloped upward to form a point, not a single interruption in it's shape, or how his brows arched in a way that gave him a peeved expression constantly...and his eyes, how could you forget his eyes?

Long, straight lashes that fluttered every time you said something stupid, with those vermillion irises that only became more and more intricate the closer you looked. Sparks of tiger orange and gold were interlaced in the red base, blooming out of the center like a flower with infinite petals. There were even dark shades of greenish brown near the rim, albeit extremely sparse.

Then, there's his lips, so perfectly plump and slightly chapped, a little pink near the center, giving them that rough sensation that pleased you so much the few times you've kissed him...you should do that more...

"Hey," Katsuki said suddenly, grabbing your attention.

"huh," you said, snapping out of your trance. "Did I finish...?"

Katsuki let out a snort, sitting up and pushing you with him. You could hear his bones creak, you must've been laying like that for a while. "You're tired. It's late," he sighed, the tiniest smile of amusement on his face, in his eyes.

You remove yourself from him, although you're still close enough to touch him with your legs, and you both stretch. "I suppose you're right...where will I sleep?" You knew it'd be far fetched to sleep in his room, you were a lady after all.

Ladies, at least in your country, were expected to go no where with a man unless chaperoned. That's part of what made your time with Katsuki so exciting, you had no one to chaperone the two of you. Surely the cultures weren't that drastically different, after all the royal structures seemed somewhat similar...

"Oh, Uh..." Katsuki turned red, something that confused you.

"What is it," you asked, hoping you didn't somehow hit a nerve.

"Nothin'...I'll have someone get a guest room ready," he said, stiffening a little. "C'mon, might as well tell mom while we're up," he sighed, standing and putting his hand out for you. You gladly took the help, getting to your feet...you hadn't realized how achy your legs were, all that running took a toll.

"Won't she be asleep? I don't want to bother her," you said softly, following him out of his bedroom and through the vestibule. You never really noticed before, too nervous, but he truly had lovely chambers. It had a reoccurring theme of deep red, gold, and dark oak, creating a warm and rich feeling to the area, just like him.

"Nah, it's not that late," he shrugs, leading you along by your hand, as he always does. To think you almost gave this up.

Naturally, you felt completely lost as the two of you walked, it felt as if he was guiding you through a maze made of volcanic rock, the apparent material of the castle walls. You both stopped as a servant came your way, and Katsuki asked him to get his mother to go to the drawing room. They nodded, and the two of you turned down a different hall.

"This place is big," you mused, holding onto his arm as you glanced around, the only light being the ever glowing torches.

"It's a castle, no shit," he scoffed, smiling wryly.

"Yeah yeah," you sighed, tittering. You missed his teasing while you were gone.

Eventually, you reached what was assumed to be the study, Mitsuki already there. She immediately rushed to the two of you, bringing you both into a hug despite Katsuki's squirming. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you're back together," she sighed, pulling away. "Y'know Katsuki was such an asshole while you were gone, in such a bad mood-"

"Shut up!" Katsuki scowled, trying to be domineering despite his hand sweetly in yours. "She needs a place to stay," he continued, grumbling his words out of some form of embarrassment.

"What are you talking about," Mitsuki asks confusedly, cocking her head as she looks between you and Katsuki.

"W-well, maybe I could stay in a guest room, if it isn't too much trouble..." you say reassuringly. You hoped she didn't think the two of you would be up to anything unsavory, and really you'd like to stay in the castle.

"A guest room?" Mitsuki gave Katsuki an angry glare, her tail pulling a little closer to her body. "You were gonna let her stay in a guest room? How do you expect to see if you're compatible without sleeping together?"

"She wansta!"

What was happening? You wanted some sort of explanation.

"Do you?" Mitsuki's tone softened, not yelling at you like how she tended to with Katsuki.

"Uh..." Did you? It's what you expected, so much so you never considered what it'd be like sleeping next to him. It was so intimate, so comfortable sounding. you blushed, smiling sheepishly, how were you supposed to answer?

"I take that as a no, it's settled, the two of you will sleep together," Mitsuki announced, watching as you let out a breath of relief.

Despite losing the argument, Katsuki let out a passive "Fine" as he pulled you away again. "Sleep well," Mistuki called out, laughing a little.

"So...she said something about compatibility," you ask curiously, watching Katsuki's face for expression. He glanced to you, slightly confused about your interest. "Ah, 's just a dragon thing," he says, brushing it off.

"I still wanna know," you press, eyes never leaving him.

"Well...they say that since part of bein' mates is sharing a space, you gotta sleep together before you mate so that you know it'll work."

"Hm...cool," you say softly, smiling as you look down again. Why wasn't that how it is in your homeland? That made a lot more sense.

"So, what exactly is mating again?" You know the definition of the verb in a clinical, animalistic sense, but surely that wasn't it.

"I already told you, it's like marriage," he said firmly, annoyed.

"Yeah, but that isn't all it is," you said, encouraging him to explain.

He huffed, rolling his eyes at you before continuing. "Basically, you and your partner go through some big celebration, like a wedding, and then you go and screw," he said halfheartedly, watching your face for a reaction.

"Oh," you say softly, a little embarrassed now. "Well, It sounds fun," you giggle, quickly recovering.

By now, the two of you made it back to his chambers, your feet feeling practically unusable after all the moving. Even with this, you stood nervously in the middle of his bedroom.

"What," Katsuki asks tiredly, sitting down on his bed.

"Well, first of all, I need to change..." you gestured down to yourself, your red dress rather dirty. "Second of all...Isn't it a little awkward? Just...sleeping next to each other?"

Katsuki sighs, laying back in bed and putting his hands behind his head. "First of all, you can just wear somethin' from my dresser, and second of all, it's not awkward unless you make it."

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile at Katsuki's current blasé attitude. You walked over to his dresser, nervously sifting through clothing before pulling out a long nightshirt and pants. "Where do I change?"

Katsuki sat up, his lips pressing together for a moment. He was so enticed to say right here, but he knew that wasn't something you or even he would be comfortable with. "There's a bathroom, first door to the right," he said, pointing to the bedroom door. You nod, walking out and taking his directions. The bathroom was really no different from your own, although it did have that signature dark, red and gold color scheme.

By the time you walked back into Katsuki's room, he was already settled down, although he gets out of bed when he hears the door, like he was waiting for you.

"So...how do we go about this," you ask, looking down at the bed like it held some sort of ominous power.

"What do you mean? It's a bed, you sleep in it," he scoffs, crossing his arms.

"I know, but like, how do we lay?"

He sighs, rubbing his face. "Just...you lay down first..." he orders, looking over at you.

Stiffly, you get into the bed, laying on the side that Katsuki wasn't just on and facing the edge. While you get in, he goes around and blows out the candles. Then, he gets in next to you, his back to yours. This way, you could lay together without getting too close just yet.

Yes, you've cuddled before, but that was in a moment of emotional release, and on the floor. This felt more...domestic. More serious.

As of now, this worked for you two.

"Goodnight, Katsuki," you say softly.

"...Goodnight. Idiot."

Let me know your thoughts, good or bad as long as it's constructive!

Taglist: @sky-angel101@the-galaxy-fiend@chixkadee@ssplague@sappho-the-kitten-tamer@andysdrafts@daria-rona @tanjirofan63@aizawaslut09@tsukiiomii@me1297

[kosije]

a/n: if i told you this had been sitting in my drafts for over half a year would you believe me?

cw: afab fem reader, arguing (not in detail), baby angst, horrible attempt at writing accented dialog (atsumu I'm so sorry), fingering (f! receiving), head (f! receiving), possible part two (probs not)

The argument started as a joke. At least, that’s all it was to Atsumu. He didn’t even mean to catch you in a bad mood. You started squinting at him and making him feel stupid, and he got much more passionate and vindictive. It was only a matter of time before his smart mouth said something inappropriate, and now your eyes read something other than anger. You're hurt.

He thought it was just a rise of emotions and didn’t matter to either of you, but after he came back from training only to get the silent treatment every time he tried to talk to you. He won't lie—he started to sweat. His pride held him back from apologizing first. After seeing you turn away from him, he decided to just wait till the morning for you to come around.

Sure, when you rejected to eat the dinner he prepared, he felt troubled, but he can always pack it up for your lunch tomorrow. So what if the shock of you turning your back to him in bed and scooting as far as you could get away from him made his chest hurt? It was too hot to cuddle, anyway.

It wasn’t until the third day you left to work without a word or glance at him he felt his pride collapse. He was spiraling. It's bad enough that he hasn't apologized yet, but what if...? You're not thinking about... leaving, right? Shakey tan hands finding his phone and calling you after going the whole three days without hearing your voice unless it was to address someone other than him. He knows you get off in 2 hours, but he can’t help his worry.

It’s not only until his call gets declined does he nearly faints. It’s all too much. He starts desperately replaying the situation in his head. You really had only been looking out for him when you told him you didn't want him to practice until so late. But he just had to not listen and turn it back on you, huh? Just listen. That was it. The rift between you now was all because he was being too immature. If he had known this would have- no, that's not the point. He shouldn't have either way. You know that, don't you? 

Like a blessing, he hears the door click and watches you push past it. Your head is hung, and your purse and coat hit the floor in a phut before you kick your heels off away from the walkway. You're tired. When your eyes meet, they're cold as steel before widening in shock.

“Y/n...”

He wasn’t crying, but he could feel the blood rush to his face and his breathing deepen. Before he can spill his guts out to you, you pull him in for a hug.

Now he’s really crying.

You say nothing as you hold him, just rub his back softly and let him cry into your shoulder. Even in your exhaustion, knee-jerk is to take care of him. He really must be pathetic.

He leans into your touch as you wipe his tears away, letting him hold your wrist to his lips as he peppers kisses all along your palm.

“‘M so so sorry, love. Was so scared ya would neva talk t'me again.” His accent is much thicker than usual, and he feels so overwhelmed his head crashes down on your shoulder.

“I deserved it all. It’s all my fault.'m so sorry, y/n. Please don’t leave me. I’ll be so much better ‘nd I’ll never do that again. I was jus- it doesn't matter why, it was stupid. I should've never said that.”

“Hey," You don't sound demeaning, but your voice is firm and he can tell what you mean by it, so he brings his head from your shoulder to look you in your eyes. "I'm sorry for making you feel stupid. I should've talked to you after you got settled in, and not immediately after getting home. But never, should you ever, talk to me like that. I'd never leave you for this. I love you far too much. But I also love sleeping next to my boyfriend at a reasonable hour. I love you, Tsumu, okay? That hasn't changed. I promise.”

He nods in your hands before resting his forehead on yours.

“Can I kiss ya?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him first, and he's sighing into it. Short pecks turn more passionate and drawn out. Lashes flutter shut, and he savors the taste of coffee and vanilla chapstick he gets when his tongue slipped inside. As his hands maunder your body and find your hips, he needs you closer. He grabs under your thighs and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist as the kisses turn into a make-out session. You help him take off his tee shirt, letting out a shaky breath when he sucks on your neck, walking to your bedroom. 

“Fuck baby- lemme, make it up t'ya. Let me make ya feel good. Lemme show ya how much I’ve missed ya”

His chest is heavy and the bulge in his pants is more than apparent through his sweatpants. You look up at him doe-eyed and nod, and he has to bite his lip to keep the moan threatening to tumble out at bay. It’s not until you’re only in your underwear that he pauses. Letting his calloused finger rub up and down your slit, he swallows your strained moans with his tongue down your throat. You impatiently paw at his shoulders, and without asking, he moves your panties to the side and slips his finger inside. His mouth moves down to your thighs as his finger slowly moves in and out of you before adding a second, and you’re already whining for more. He kisses the fat of your thigh once more before pecking, then sucking and licking your clit while a third finger bullies your cunt.

Your hands move to his hair and you rock your hips against his face as you chase your release. The sensation stings his scalp, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you taste so good. Not when he’s been missing and dreaming about your cunt ever since you’ve turned your back on him.

“F-fuck-Fuck ‘Tsumu, I’m gonna cum!”

Your cries run straight to his dick as he ruts his clothed cock into the bedsheets while eating you out. You cry out as your orgasm rushes over you, as your heels dig into his lower back. He greedily laps up everything you let out while bathing in all the praises that fall from your swollen lips. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his lips, then kisses you back up to your chin.

"Did ya like that?"

"Yes," and the breathless way that you say it makes him smile.

"Good, 'cuz I have somethin' even better fer ya."