#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

[bunnys-kisses]

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

[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.

[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."

[she-walks-on-starlight]

Can u write some fluff and comfort for grayson.

i would appreciate it <3

Of course! Thanks for the request - ✨

Duty Bound

a/n: added in some hurt/comfort and a slight touch of angst for this one, it's just how the story came to me :) my requests are still open, send me your ideas I'd love to hear them 😊

Warnings: almost break-up, arguments, feelings of neglect

Summary: Grayson has been busy with work, and you're starting to feel tired of coming in second. When you deliver an ultimatum, will it make or break your relationship?

Word Count: 2k

“I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on, y/n, and I want to spend my days and my nights making you happy. I will do anything you ask, will take you anywhere you wish to go as long as I can come with you. Just please say you’ll be mine, and nothing could possibly make me any happier.”

A beautiful memory.

You sighed as you packaged the baked macaroni cheese into Tupperware containers and labelled them before putting them in the fridge, yet another dinner you’d eaten alone.

Your cat, Whiskers, wound himself around your legs and staring reproachfully at you with his wide, green eyes. Rolling your eyes, you filled his feeding dish and put it on the floor for him, earning a grateful squeak. You scratch just behind his ears, when you hear the lock turn in the front door and the heavy thud of your girlfriend’s work boots as she finally arrived home.

“I’m home, beloved! Oh, do I smell cheese?”

She appeared in the kitchen archway, her Enforcer jacket slung casually over her shoulder and her pristine white shirt unbuttoned to just above her cleavage. You fix her with faux annoyed stare.

“You do smell cheese…I’ve just put your dinner in the fridge.”

Grayson huffs, running her hands through her messy, silver streaked locks. “I’m so sorry, my love. There was a situation in the Undercity that required my attention.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I suppose I’ll have to let you off then, won’t I? Sit down, I’ll warm up your dinner.”

She obeyed, sitting at your small table as you warmed the macaroni cheese and started a spinach omelette for her lunch the next day. Grayson started unlacing her boots, lightly smacking your ass whenever you passed her because she knew it made you blush. Whiskers however soon realised she was home and pawed at her laces until she lavished him with attention. She looked tired, and you knew she must’ve had a very busy shift. It seemed with every week she was the Chief Enforcer more lines carved their way into her handsome face.

“I swear, more and more Shimmer is being pumped into the Undercity and we still haven’t got a single idea on how, or who is behind it all. Every factory I shut down, two more pop up to replace it! Not to mention how many Enforcers I’m losing to those Shimmer crazed thugs! I’ve had to inform three more wives of their husbands’ deaths today! Three!”

You kiss her cheek and run your hands through her hair, massaging the nape of her neck to help her relax. “I think you need a break, Gray.”

She groaned with pleasure at your ministrations but scoffed at your words. “If I take a break, I think the entire station will collapse.”

You tried to remain bright, placing her meal in front of her and grinning as she dug in eagerly. “Well…maybe we can do something this weekend? Maybe go to that little vegan café we both like?”

“Sorry my love, I can’t. I volunteered to lead a seminar on firearm maintenance on Saturday, and the Council wants me to make an appearance at the charity gala on Sunday.”

“Oh, a gala! That could be fun, it’s been a while since we’ve gone to one, I’ll have to see if I can dig out one of my old dresses…”

Grayson swallowed, eyeing you apologetically. “About that…I’m sorry. I’d like nothing more than to have you on my arm, but as I’m there to represent the Enforcers, it wouldn’t please the Council.”

You try to keep your breathing even, turning back to the stove and flipping the spinach omelette carefully.

“So, I’m not going to see you this weekend at all?”

You hear the scraping of her chair and close your eyes to prevent tears from falling as strong, broad arms wrap around you and the scent of her fresh, citrus cologne fills your nose as she kisses your cheek and your neck, her short curls tickling your face.

“Please don’t be too upset, my love. I have a duty to the people of Piltover.”

You sighed, your entire body filling with leaden disappointment. You were so sick of this. “And what about your duty to me?”

Grayson pulls away from you, her mouth agape. “What do you mean?”

Your hands ball into fists. “This apartment is haunted by you, Gray! I’m only graced with the presence of your shadow!”

“My love, I-”

“You’re always working, and when you’re not at work, then you’re at the gym! It’s like you have no time for me anymore! You’d always rather be doing something, anything else, than spend time with me, your girlfriend!”

Grayson crossed her arms. “That’s not true. My work is very important, beloved. I cannot simply drop everything to indulge in personal leisure.”

“But your work doesn’t have to take over your entire life, Gray.”

Grayson’s eyes were like liquid steel, sharp and cold. “My work IS my life. I have spent years, decades getting to where I am now! I thought you understood that.”

Your chest felt tight, your whole body felt stiff, and a prickling heat was coating your skin. This was a losing battle. Grayson was a woman of honour, a paragon of justice and was bound to her duty. Serving and protecting the people of Piltover was her lifeblood. That would never change, perhaps could never change.

“Then I think I should stay with my sister for a while.”

Before Grayson could reply, you turned on your heel and headed into the bedroom, burying yourself under the duvet and letting your salty tears burn into your face.

The next day had gone by in a blur. Grayson hadn’t been in the apartment when you’d woken up, so you assumed she’d gone into work early. Weary from working so late, but pleased you were able to complete the wedding cake on time for that lovely couple, you stabbed your key at the rusty lock in your apartment door until it finally clicked open and allowed you entry.

The apartment was dark and silent, but you expected that. Grayson was either at her office or she was hitting the gym. Again. The satisfied high from working at your small bakery was ebbing away, leeched from you by the depression radiating from the walls that had once surrounded you with love and warmth. You were too melancholy to cook, so you order chilli oil noodles from your favourite takeout place and trudged into the bedroom.

Opening the wardrobe, you were greeted with several Chief Enforcer uniforms, all starched and ironed to perfection, the belts and buckles gleaming proudly in the dim lighting of the bedroom. You carefully pushed them aside, not wanting to crease them and reached for your jumpers hanging beside them. As you folded them, you tried to ignore the sharp aching of your heart which only intensified when you pushed Grayson’s uniforms back into place on the rail.

You were pushing her out of your life.

You growled internally at the intrusive thought. Grayson had pushed you away first, now you were just letting yourself fall from the impact. If this is what Grayson wanted, then she would reap what she had sown.

On the bed lay your frayed duffel bag, beaten up from the many camping trips you and Grayson took. Used to take. It was open, the soft material hanging apart like a mocking, laughing mouth. However, as you approached it to put the jumpers inside, there was a folded piece of paper that wasn’t there when you’d left for work. As you opened it, you gasped as you recognised Grayson’s efficient scrawl.

Giovanni’s. 7pm. Wear the red dress. Please come.

Your eyes widened. Giovanni’s, a small Italian restaurant where you’d had your first dinner date with Grayson. The red dress she mentioned had been the one she’d slowly peeled you out of that evening, the first time she’d ever touched you like that. It had been the perfect night. Your heart fluttered at the implications of the note. Did she want to recreate that night? Or was this the final goodbye? Glancing the clock, you quickly put on the dress she requested and touched up your makeup before dashing out of the door and hailing a cab.

When you arrived, the waiter smiled knowingly and led you to the private terrace which was lit with candles and fairy lights. There was only a single table, by which Grayson stood wearing a crisp, black dress shirt, matching trousers, and a red paisley tie exactly the shade of your dress. She pulled out your chair for you as you sat, somewhat dazed, and kissed your knuckles before taking her seat opposite you.

Her eyes were serious, her forehead creased with stress. “I came home at lunchtime. I wanted to surprise you, to apologise for my recent behaviour…but I forgot today was one of your workdays. Just another way I’m failing you as a partner, I suppose.”

You reached for her, entwining your slender fingers with her larger ones, the warmth of her hand travelling up your arm and into your chest. “Gray…I-”

“I saw the bag.” Her voice was a whisper, the dreadful confession staining her lips with sadness. “I realised then, that you meant it when you said you were leaving. You were absolutely right. To have driven you to this, it’s unforgivable.”

You can feel your own heart swell at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you take in your forlorn lover, such a great, upstanding woman reduced to despair, her eyes pleading and so very remorseful.

“Gray, I do understand-”

Grayson silenced you with a gentle finger to your lips. “Please, my love, I need to tell you. You are the sun that wakes me at dawn, you are the stars that watch over me at night. You are the beat in my heart, the reason I thrive. I love you more than anything I have ever even comprehended. To neglect you this way, is the greatest pain I could have ever inflicted upon myself. You are why I work so hard, so make sure you will always be safe and never have anything to fear. But you were right, I let it consume me. It almost cost me everything I hold dear.”

It's everything you’ve needed to hear, and it takes every shred of your emotional self-control not to burst into relieved sobs. “Gray, I love you. Your sense of honour and your need to fulfil your duty are all part of you, and I love you even more for having these qualities. I just want to be able to share my life with you and know that you’ll always want to come home to me, see me, be with me.”

Grayson leaned forward, cupping your cheek. “I want for nothing more. My soul sings when I am with you, and you alone, beloved.”

Then she kisses you, and it’s just like the first time all those years ago. She cups your face with her warm hands and wipes away any tears falling, her soft lips caressing yours with care and reverence, the two of you pouring your deep love for each other into a kiss that’s been a long time coming.  When you break apart, you’re sure you are blushing, and Grayson’s look of pure adoration warms you from the inside out. You eat a beautiful meal and as you stand from the table, Grayson ceremoniously gathers you in her arms, bridal style, making you squeal with surprise and delight.

“Hey! Gray! What are you doing?”

She nuzzles into your neck. “We are going home. I have a weekend of pampering to spoil you with.”

“But what about your weekend obligations?”

Grayson kisses you, tender and slow. “Marcus is leading the seminar on Saturday, and I’ve informed the Council that I will not attend the gala. They will likely not miss the Enforcer representation anyway. Now come, I have many plans for this evening and many of them involve much less clothing. Shall we?”

Sighing contentedly, you rest your head on her shoulder as she carries you away. “Let’s go home.”

[fallenwhumpee]

Back

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Blood, mentioned lab whump, passing out(almost), syringe, depressive thoughts(?).

Leader stumbled as they went to the very small kitchen with dishes in their hands, almost tripping. They couldn't see for a moment, before realising they were basically doubled over the counter. Leader set down the dishes, cursing.

"You're getting old."

Leader turned back, letting out a sigh as they realised it was Right Hand. Right Hand wouldn't panic, unlike Youngest.

"I'm just tired," Leader lied anyway. "Been a long day."

"Leader," Right Hand warned.

Leader took a moment just to… just to look. Right Hand was only three years younger than them, but they looked healthier in general. Movements more fluid, face more vivid. Three years of improvements made a huge difference between Leader and them.

As always, Leader was getting the short stick on everything. But their thoughts weren't born from jealousy. They were just tired, reasonably. They held the counter, trying to stand straight.

"I'm alright," Leader muttered. "Just healing," they forced out, feeling their knees tremble.

Right Hand paced closer, helping Leader down slowly. "Is it the injuries or..?" Right Hand asked, not completing the sentence.

"I'm not sure," Leader grunted, closing their eyes to collect themselves. They coughed, covering their mouth. They quickly hid their blood strained palm.

Leader opened their eyes again, trying to pull themselves together. They wiped their wet hand to their pants, sitting up straight.

"My guess is more on the injury," they added. "But I need time."

Right Hand looked skeptical but accepted the explanation. "You've got a booster?" Right Hand asked after a moment of silence, pulling Leader up.

Leader shook their head, holding Right Hand a little too tight to get a stable stance. "I have a feeling that I'll need it later."

"You and your feelings," Right Hand scoffed. "I'd give you mine but…"

"Don't waste it," Leader breathed deeply, letting go of their grip.

"I restocked." Right Hand stopped a moment to see Leader's reaction. Leader raised an eyebrow, waiting. "Had to visit there to get your blood sample after you went down." Right Hand looked away, ashamed.

"You did what?" Leader almost gasped. They took a breath and gave Right Hand the chance to explain why they returned to their nightmare. "You know I don't like you going there, let alone going all by yourself."

"You're in no position to complain," Right Hand argued, not very confident. It was unusual for them to go from Leader's back, and even more unusual to try to cover it up.

Right Hand sighed. "Just tell me if my one will help."

"It may," Leader didn't push. "If you got any spare and ignore the... ethics."

"We wouldn't be the first to do that," Right Hand gave a small smile.

Leader met the smile with their own.

"And if the boost doesn't work?" Right Hand asked after a short silence, having a second thought. But now Leader wanted to try their luck. The idea sounded good in their head.

"I'll be fine," Leader moved to the living room. "It's a booster, not medicine."

"Leader—" Right Hand began, but Leader cut it.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

If it was Medic, Leader would be teased about famous last words. But Medic wasn't around, so Leader had one nice hour before their body slowly shut down. Youngest was asleep by that time, Right Hand not registering half of their own words as they kept babbling about the everyday matters. But they quickly got alerted as Leader collapsed to the armrest.

Right Hand's shot was definitely more potent.

Leader felt drained as their body began to tend to damage faster than it could handle. They tried to reach Right Hand, but they couldn't raise their heavy arm.

"Seems like they changed the formula over time," Right Hand chuckled, clumsily trying to mask their concern. They walked over and shifted Leader to lay on their back.

Leader knew that tone… Leader themselves used it quite often when they were growing up. And it didn't recall nice memories.

"I'm not dying," Leader assured, half joking. They felt like they were taken in for the circulation. It was just as bad as dying... but at least temporary.

Right Hand froze. Leader reached for their hand, trying to stop the possible panic taking over.

Right Hand drew a sharp breath. "Don't. Just don't. I can't handle seeing you like this. I can't—"

"I'll be alright," Leader tried again. "Been through worse. You know it."

"Just… we need you. I need you. To be here just like always," Right Hand whispered, looking away.

Leader didn't like that.

"Those thoughts are dangerous," they warned. "My tomorrow isn't guaranteed, less than yours even."

Right Hand's eyes flashed, the panic finally disappearing. "No one can tell me what to think. That's what you taught me in that hole."

"I know. But I also taught you to not depend on anyone," Leader retorted, the heavy feeling dragging their eyelids down. Winding up Right Hand was the easiest way to get them back to their senses. "You being attached to me is the last thing I want."

"Just shut up and let me look after you."

"You have no bedside manners," Leader whined, the words slurring into each other as they felt the exhaustion finally catch up.

"It's only natural. You babied us too much, and we turned out the opposite."

"Babied," Leader muttered. It was the bare minimum, but they guessed even that could count as coddling in their situation. "I only did what I saw outside."

"Hush now, you'll feel better if you rest."

Leader muttered something incoherent even to themselves, their eyes closing. They didn't think they would feel better soon, but they couldn't think about it. Their thoughts molded into each other as they felt a hand caress their cheek, wrapping something warm around their shoulders.

So tender, so gentle. All the things Leader had found themselves undeserving. But they couldn't find the energy to resist. It felt… nice to let themselves be cared for, for once.

But Leader didn’t like the role reversal in the slightest. They didn't like being out of service or letting their guard down. Restlessly, they tried to open their eyes, but their body betayed them once again, pulling them to a deep sleep.

-•-

So, as a treat(i just couldn't fit this anywhere, and its too short to be posted on its own, so im just releasing into the wild) have two adorable kids.

Warnings: Child abuse, minor whumpee, multiple whumpees, mentioned gun, dehumanisation. All mentioned and off-screen, but still.

"Don't ever let it go. This village wasn't on the plan, so don't get out of the line as we regroup, kid," a private demanded.

"Yessir." Leader grabbed 01 from their hood. The child squeaked, giving a big smile. Leader couldn't smile back, not when they were beaten out of if, but they moved and took the other's hand. It was a gesture they had seen the outside people did when they were all smiley.

Would Leader get a warning for it?

Leader realised they didn't care it as much as before. Normally, even the thought would have them on the edge, trembling and ready to but. It hadn't been the case ever since Right Hand was brought in. So tiny and innocent, unaware of what will happen.

Leader would bite and snarl if anything happened to them, and maybe if they were strong enough, they could outright attack. If only they were strong enough and the thought of it hurt their skull less.

But Scientist promised they wouldn't touch Right Hand as long as Leader did what Scientist said. And Leader wanted to trust the only person they had known ever since they knew themselves.

The private just left, not even looking back. Leader was beginning to worry too much. It was not good. Paranoia wasn't going to help them at all. In or our of the field.

"0, can we go? I saw something!" The child pulled Leader towards a farm. Leader sighed - the way the staff did when things didn't work as they wanted - but let the child drag him.

"Just don't let my hand go, and we're good."

The child dragged Leader as Leader looked around, alert for anything that may come.

They stopped before a small place circled with wires. There were... bunnies in it. Leader blinked, seeing the chubby things do silly moves. The ones back home weren't even able to lift themselves from the ground of their cage.

"Leader, they are so cute. Can we take one home?"

Leader looked around with panic if anyone heard. "Dont use my name. That's for... only for two of us. Out secret. You should be careful."

"Sorry." The child's face fell.

Leader sighed. Why did this hurt their heart?

Leader knelt, getting to the child's eye level. "Right Hand..." they began, taking a deep breath. Right Hand perked up with Leader calling them with their name. "It's alright. Just don't do that around the others, or they will get mad."

"I don't like them. Why I should care?" Right Hand huffed, moving closer.

"Because I dont want them to hurt you," Leader confessed. Or hurt me, they couldn't say. They didn't mind being punished if it meant Right Hand would be fine, but they would rather avoid it altogether.

"People outside don't hurt each other."

"I know. Our people isnt very nice. But they are our people."

Right Hand lunged forward, sending Leader's mind on alert. But they couldn't move. Right Hand's arms wrapped around Leader's neck, their small and warm body against Leader's thin but solid frame.

Was that a... hug?

Leader didn’t deserve it. They didn't get touched if it wasn't for data. They didn't get kindness if they didn't do good. They did nothing to deserve the warmth.

Leader suddenly felt alarmed. It overrode their thoughts, their arms wrapping around the child protectively.

"Get out of my field!" Someone snarled from behind. Leader tightened their arms around Right Hand, using their own body to shield the child.

Right Hand whimpered and buried their head to Leader's shoulder.

"M-my sibling just wanted t-to see the bunnies, I'm— I'm sorry," Leader muttered, their voice meek. They turned back enough to see the farmer, a stick on their hand. Leader turned fully since it wasn't a gun, still cradling Right Hand in a safe distance.

The farmer looked at Leader, taking in the appearance. Leader couldn't hide the tattoo on the back of their arm, marking them as military property.

"I don't want freaky creatures  in my farm. So go before I come down there."

"Yessir," Leader forced out again before running to the way they came. Right Hand held on tighter, making Leader's neck ache. They let out a whimper, scary.

"Its alright," Leader whispered. "I will protect you. Always."

[dsaf-confessions]

important announcement

okay so modred here!!! and i am about to share my total, unbiased, unfiltered and honest thoughts.

i am leaving the blog

yes yes i know i try to act unbothered by everything but its scary how everything changed so fast! did you know i was actually considering sharing my main on here because i thought this place was so chill? safe to say im glad i did not do that.

i've tried to win the idgaf war but the truth is its killing me. im fighting in the idgaf war and im losing. it feels like its been months since it started, but its not even been three weeks. just over two, im pretty sure. its not even been three weeks since i've turned 15 years old!

two days after my 15th birthday this started!! what unfortunate timing. and honestly, ive got exams in less than a month, and i've been so stressed about everything. not just exams, not just internet drama, but like a secret third thing too.

its super scary to admit im being stressed out by all of this considering that there are people whove taken pride in upsetting me and for what crime? they're old posts. i was 14 when i posted them. id apologised. id listened to advice. i'd improved. but all because one day someone decided they didn't like the blog, this entire account collapsed and so did my mental health with it it seemed.

i dont like being honest. i just like to laugh about everything. i know certain people are going to be laughing and proud that they've made me leave this blog while reading this post, and while thats the reason ive been scared to leave this whole time, they're going to do that anyway. they're going to keep hating me. so the least i could do is try to put myself first rather than try to push through it using spite as my motivator.

i know there will likely be people bragging on their accounts that they've made me leave (im aware of what people are saying). and that upsets me. i wont lie. but at the end of the day, if you find yourself being proud of making a newly turned 15 year old leave an account that they once found comfort in, then thats more of a judge of character about you than me.

its scary how people can decide that they don't like you one day and make a post ruining everything, and its scary how people can act comforting to your face and then go ahead and brag about how upset they've made you to someone else, but in the end i cannot control what people say and at the end of the day i can only control what i do and who i surround myself with and thats why im leaving.

im not leaving the discord, or the dsaf fandom at all, but i am getting far away from this blog and blocking everyone who hates me because thats all i can do. all i can request is that if you know who i am, keep it secret. and if you somehow find me, please dont try to talk to me.

i think i'll just talk with my friends and post my silly little art and things without becoming a known name. its the only way to exist in fandom i think.

but wait! this blog wont die!

you see, as you were reading this post with tears in your eyes, i had secretly been assigning not just one, but two new admins for the blog! i trust them to keep it running, but also if you guys treat them terribly i give them full permission to delete this entire account. they need to put themselves first too.

so, my last words to the dsaf confessions blog?

change da world. my final message. goodbye. /ref

uhh just kidding!! final message is: if you dont like this blog, block it. if you dont like me, then we'll leave this here and forget this drama ever happened. dont try to make my past mistakes these guys problems. as soon as i hit post im leaving this blog, so any hate you try to send towards me will not go through to me. you wont even be screaming into the void either, just at some innocent people.

thats all i have to say. ily all!!! /p

-modred

[sliceofcake-cupoftea]

Hi! Just wanna say i really like your writtings and i'd like to make a request only if you dont mind 💖

Could you please make lao x housen! Femreader where they meet each other for the first time (during 3 aliance) and reader was abt to be targeted by reiji himuro but Lao was there taking over thinking she couldnt fight eventhough she shows she's a good fighter at the end. Both shock seeing each other since she only heard bad rumours abt lao and lao dont know this is the girl from housen people been talkin abt. Kinda awkward at first but reader has this easy going but lil cocky persona. They then meet each other for several time unexpectedly and started to like each other secretly.

Anyplot will do cuz i'll leave it to you. Sorry for writing to long to explain the plot that you might take as inspo 😘

Love you 3000 xoxo

Big Mouth

Character(s): "Rao" Misaki Mario (x reader), Ueda Sachio (slight x reader)

Plot Line: As per usual when Seibang's Kendo team showed up at Housen for practice, the gym was locked. Having to track down the boys yet again for the keys, you run into an unusual male.

Warnings: High and Low Violence

Note: Thanks so much for the request! I didn’t use everything you said because I like to go with the flow when writing (a stylistic choice on my part not your fault) so I hope you like a couple of surprises I sprinkled in.

“All–” You huff as another student comes barreling towards you causing Jamuo to let out a girlish yelp as he gets out of the way. Quickly, you snap your bokken down right on the back of the guy’s neck chasing him, making the guy instantly collapse to the ground in pain, “I wanted–”

Kicking in the door to a classroom, you see three more Senomon tech students inside–all instantly turning around at the commotion–but no Housen students in sight; more specifically no Odajima. A fact that makes you let out an aggravated sigh as the students begin to come at you,

“--Was the gym keys!”

It was true. That was all you wanted. 

Hailing from Seibang Girls’ High School, your school had a lot of prestige and, most importantly, class. Two elements you tried your hardest to embody when you entered high school as a first-year. Though, it was at times like this even two years later, that you failed miserably at that.

Due to your close relationship with Ueda Yui and eventually the boys at Housen, the girls Kendo team you were captain of often borrowed Housen’s gym for practice. Most of the time caused by the fact the softball team was taking up your original practice space. Which is normally fine until you show up to Housen and no one is there to unlock the gym for you guys. 

Meaning as the closest to the Housen members, you had to go track down the keys. 

“I swear to fucking–” You start feeling an aggravated twitch go through you as someone kicks you in the back. One you instantly return ten fold by kicking the guy in the nuts, “Odajima! When I find your dumbass you are dead! Dead, you hear?!”

You really lost your class in situations like this. Really. 

As Jamuo yelps about some other students coming after you two, you instantly grab the cowardly male by the collar and jump through a window. Landing on the roof of an area down below. Jamuo sputters, attempting to catch his breath after what you just did, but you are more interested in something else.

Suzuran?

Based on the black and gold uniforms amongst the red, you could only guess the six males fighting on the ground in front of you hailed from that chaotic and unruly boys’ school. 

“What…” You mumble, already feeling a headache come on as you attempt to wrap your head around the situation, “How the fuck does Housen get in some much trouble…? Oi, Hey!”

Not allowing the Senomon Tech guys on the ground in front of you enough time to turn around, you leap from the roof and onto the group. Kicking most to the ground and hitting a guy in front of you with your wooden sword in the process. 

“Wha–” You jump in surprise, stopping you from going after another student, as a person–a full on person–is thrown past you like a ragdoll. As you turn to your right to look at the source, you see a rather tall and looming Suzuran male standing there; who freezes in his tracks as he sees you, “Oi! Watch it!”

However, it wasn’t in the way the male at first thought intended as you threw your sword, smacking a student that was sneaking up behind him. Quickly, the Suzuran student turns around and chucks the knocked out one through a window; putting him out of commision and out of the way as you get closer to him. Not even bothering to jog to go grab your sword, you take the opportunity to look the male over, beginning to realize that he looked oddly familiar. Not in the way that you have seen this male before but that he looks exactly like someone Sachio once described. 

Raoh.

“Hey, Oi. Pay attention next time, pretty boy.” You say, huffing as you grab your wooden sword poking the male in the chest as he continues to stare at you. Raoh, slightly taken aback by your words and action, seems to freeze once more, “We don’t need you getting injured. I’m too busy today to be kissing any boo boos away.”

“There they are!” Scrunching your eyebrow slightly in annoyance, you begin to curse Housen out in your mind as backup for the opposing group arrives. All armed with pipes and wooden weapons; Kamasaka students. Of course.

When would Sachio be back again? He never forgot to leave the keys at Housen whenever you had practice that day. 

“Oi!” You yelp as while kicking some guy in the gut, a strong arm suddenly wraps around your waist, lifting you up and bringing you around as he spins. It takes you a moment to realize it was this Raoh guy grabbing ahold of you. In his other hand a Kamasaka student, who he swung around before eventually throwing into a crowd of them. 

“A little warning next time?” You say, raising an eyebrow at him as he places you back down on the ground. You can tell Raoh is a bit flustered by your confrontation and sarcastic attitude. However, he was no were close to how flustered he became at your next words, “I like to be manhandled but jeez take me on a date first, will ya?”

Without another word, you kick a metal pipe away from a twitching injured student on the ground and walk off. Leaving Raoh without an opportunity to ask what you mean. Allowing him to just ponder with all the chaos going on around him.

Little do you know the impact you had on him just from the brief moment in time.

–.--.--.--.--

“Ow. Ow.” Odajima curses as you continue to look through his pockets. The young man dangling off Jinkawa, quite bruised and battered from the fight. However, you don’t pay it any mind, instead lighting up when your hand comes into contact with familiar metal. You nearly scream with joy as the jingle of keys is heard as you pull it out of Odajima's front pocket. “Oi, watch your hand–”

“Thank you, God,” You yell, cutting the Housen student off from his whining as you kiss the key to the gym. Finally–fucking finally–you got the keys. “I need to call the girls.”

“Oh? Sachio?” 

As you begin to pull out your phone, Housen practically erupts in excitement as they see their leader–Ueda Sachio–at the front of Senomon Tech. A sight you are relieved to see as well. No more days of chasing down the keys to the gym.

“Sachio,” You whine, not hesitating on jogging up to male. Him seeming quite taken aback that you are here, “You need to make a copy of these keys. I can’t keep on tracking down Housen for them. Do you know how long the ride was here?”

At your whines of agony, Housen begins to laugh. Not taking the pain you go through in trying to find them seriously. Even Sachio can’t help but let out a chuckle as he brings up a hand to wrinkle your hair. 

“I’ll be sure to–” Suddenly the smile on Sachio’s face wipes clean as he spots something behind you, “What is Suzuran doing here?”

Turning around, you nearly jump in shock at the group of black uniformed males standing behind you. More specifically Raoh, the boy you were fighting with earlier, that literally was towering over you. 

“Hey– Oh.” You are taken aback as Raoh suddenly pulls out his phone and hands it to you. As you stare at the blank contact on the screen of it, It takes you a moment to put two and two together, “Oh… Do you want my phone number?”

Raoh nods his head, seeming patient despite what you’ve heard as you begin to slowly put it in. All the while Housen and Oya look on confused. Wondering what in the world was going on and how the two of you knew each other.

“Are you free this saturday? At three o’clock?” Raoh asks, his deep voice catching you off guard once more as it is the first time you heard him speak today. With a small and meek nod of your head, the Suzuran man smiles. Though only for a moment before he gently takes the phone from your hands.

“It’s a date.” You let out a small gasp as Raoh leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead; unable to stop your heart from doing a summersault at the romantic gesture. One of his large hands running down the back of your hair to the tips of the strands as he pulls away; bringing some hair to fall gently back to your face as heat rises to your cheeks, “I’ll pick you up at two.”

As Suzuran begins to walk away, leaving everyone stunned at what just took place, it is–of course–Fujio that breaks the dead silence of the situation. 

“Oh, good job Raoh!” He cheers, giving his friend a thumbs up. While he didn’t understand what just took place or the context behind it, he knew the Suzuran male just asked a girl out. So like every male, he was supportive of the heroics and guts behind it. Well maybe not every male in this situation. 

It is as Raoh gives Fujio a thumbs up back, that everyone else breaks out of their stupidor. Especially Sachio who instantly challenges Raoh. Declaring that you were friends of Housen, thus part of Housen. Even Odajima hopped off Jinkawa to challenge the other students of Raoh’s faction.

It seemed like an all out brawl was about to commence with everyone present.

Well… everyone but you. You, still shell shocked, couldn’t believe getting in a fight for Housen got you a date with the Misaki Mario of Suzuran. You couldn’t wait to tell the girls about this one. They would be so excited. 

Though… Yui might be a little disappointed as she has been trying to set you up with her brother for as long as you remember. 

Whoops. 

[its-warm-in-here]

Teeth 2

Well, here we go again! this is still gross, but some people seem to enjoy it so I kept going! If you like it or have any feedback, I'd love to hear it!

Link to Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/its-warm-in-here/741702465482883072/teeth?source=share

Alastor x !DeerDemon! Reader

Warnings: imbalance of power, cannibalism, i guess this falls into vore??

A nervous voice rings like a bell, jerking you back to consciousness. “Where’d you say they were?”

The light above you is bright and blinding on one side. In the other eye, not so much. Every nerve blazes in agony. Your neck is bent at a bad angle, but you give your remaining good leg a kick. Pain. Acute and grinding rips through. Breathing is sharp and your ears ring. Still, you try to focus. Above, uncertain strangers bicker. “Just outside the fence. Its bizarre. There's not many cars around here and it's not like they could have dragged themselves halfway across the Pentagram in that state.” 

“Are you saying someone put them there?”

“Not tryin’ to be discouraging or nothin’, but they look a little ehhh...Roadkill-eysh.”

Hell, you certainly felt like it. 

“The innards are spilling!” another squeaks and giggles, then something pointy jabs into your gut.   

“Not helping, Niffty,” a lower female voice scolded and shooed away the tiny, stabbing demon off. “Still. They’re looking better off than most hell carrion I’ve seen. At least they could get themselves to us before any cannibals came sniffing.” 

You cough and the vision finally comes swimming back to your other eye. Demons of all sorts hover above, the blond one desperately tries to tend to the worst of your wounds but seems to be panicking more than anything while her partner tries to intervene. The air in your chest rattles with each breath as your ribs pop and crack back into place. You try to say something but the only sound you get is a sort of half weeze. Probably have a collapsed lung or something. Fuck that truck driver. Double damn him!  Regeneration never feels good, but at least it didn't take too terribly long, like some sinners you knew. Even if it was agonizing. Give it a day or so and you’d be right as rain, with or without the help of this Hotel Staff. 

That being said, you hoped they knew what they were doing. Healing a broken bone took some time and if they made it worse, that’d just slow you down even more. And you can’t have that. While the strangers fret above, your head lolled to the side. There, in the doorway another figure lingers. It's just a silhouette, you can tell they're tall, but the thing that catches your eye is that impossibly wide, yellow grin. That stands out against the shadows like its glowing. It's so familiar. And unsettling.

Several hands take hold of your limp shoulder and someone starts counting, “On three, okay? One. two. Three!” tears prick your good eye and you can’t stop the scream that rips from your chest but it quickly dies to a whimper. It's painful, debatably than before, but you can  feel your fingers again. Your eyes flutter as you teater on the edge of consciousness. Head falling to the side once more, you let the hotel staff continue tending to the big gash over your hip. 

You can’t hear it over the bickering of your saviors, but the figure in the hall’s mouth opens in what you can only assume is a chuckle by the way their chest flutters. If anything this face looked, for lack of a better word, pleased. With one final leer, that smile swept out of view. Something in you churns. 

“Charlie, I’m gonna need you to keep their leg still,” the only voice with any reason orders. Her partner hops-to in response and two little hands grip the injured leg. “Okay, um, sorry I don't know your name, but this is gonna hurt.” 

It does. Then everything goes black again. 

-----

It happens again when you’re cleaning up after dinner. 

Creole food is great and all, but it uses everything in the kitchen, and it sticks bad on the pan. Niffty was busy with clearing the table and getting the exorbitant amount of dishes loaded into the wash. Besides, with her little arms, she’d end up head first in the big pot. So it fell to you to scrub the oversized dutch oven tonight. You’ve been working on this for a good ten minutes but the remaining fond caked onto the base was just was not giving up. Somehow, you’ve managed to slosh soapy water all up your sleeves and onto the front of your shirt. Cursing under your breath, you apply your best elbow grease to the base of the pot. 

There's the briefest touch at the top of your tail then a quick yank on the hair. You yelp, whirling around. “What the actual fuck-” 

“You know, if you leave it soak, that will be much easier to handle,” the radio demon muses. His gaze is fixed on the bit of hair he’d plucked, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. “And I'd avoid that steel wool. Can't have you ruining my best pot.” 

Scowling, you dry your hands on a soaked apron then put them on your hips. “Well, maybe if the chef took some responsibility to clean up his dishes, I wouldn’t be putting his cookware in danger.” 

The corners of his mouth quirk up and he tucks the tuft of fur into his breast pocket. “I’ve been wondering if you were still interested in continuing our arrangement.” 

Your throat goes dry and hair goes on end. That's a bit to the point. Its not like your last interaction had been dominating your mind or anything. And its not like you’d had some rather... vivid nightmares on the subject. Nothing at all like that. It stirs a mixture of emotions, pained but intrigued. If Alastor is asking after another ‘nibble,’ then he’s been thinking about this too. And that might entail another favor. “I’d be lying if it hadn’t crossed my mind.”

“Excellent. I must say after a meal like that, I'm in the mood for a little... entremet.” 

That makes your head spin. This cant be like last time. Not with so many rules that hadn't been set, too many boundaries that could be tested. Not with him so smug. “Oh, o-of course.” He’d been respectful thus far, but that didn't mean he wouldn’t pull something nasty in the second encounter. “But I need some ground rules, Alastor,” you step back, bumping against the counter and he closes in. Cornered again. Your ears drop and he can't look more pleased. Heart hammering, you put on your best smile. “You get your palette cleanser but I pick where you bite. And you stop when I say.”

He hums and straightens himself to his full, towering height. “Sounds like a deal.” Green swirls around his extended hand and dread fills your belly. 

Quickly, you snap your hand up, pinky held aloft between you. “N-no deals. This is a promise. Alright?” 

Alastor’s eyes narrow as he contemplates your offer. This is a bad idea, right? Before you can consider the consequences, his pinky locks with yours. “Promise.” There's a rush of energy and a small burst of green. He lets go, rolling his shoulders as he tucks his hands into the small of his back, and leaving you dumb founded, staring at your empty hand. “Give that pot another scrub then meet me upstairs.” 

---

There's no answer when you knock. Briefly you think to wait in the hall, but the voices of Husk and Angel echo up the nearby stairwell. So you duck in, surprised to find the door unlocked. Once more, you are greeted by the outside air contrasted by the roaring warmth of the hearth. You linger near the door, as you haven’t been officially invited in. 

Swallowing, you stare up at the mounted antlers and taxidermied bones. In another afterlife, that could have been you. Peeled apart as some trophy for a cannibalistic freak. Thank whatever power that dedicated hell for making you more durable than his normal prey. Still, it did warp your relationship with the Radio Demon. He probably would never have even looked your way were it not for the strange coincidence that you were also a deer. But didn't that make you feel just a little special? Like you had something in common with one of the most powerful being this side of Pentagram City? And maybe you could utilize some of that power if you stay in his good graces...

Even if he only wanted you for meat. 

You shake your head and rip your gaze from the dead animals and to further into the room. For a moment, you consider taking the seat from last time or putting on some jazz, but there’s a gust of wind from the forest that makes you turn. Pentagram City might be a bustling, chaotic, absolutely insane metropolis, but it was hardly known for its great outdoors. 

Air moves through the trees, whistling a bit as it blows past the opening to Alastor’s room. Just beyond, there's a small table with a single chair and past that, the forest expands to a blue-green bayou. It's enticing. The grass sinks into the marshy ground beneath your hooves as you step into the impossible bit of nature contained in the Hotel. Cautiously, you step over to that little table and rest your palm against the tree. It certainly feels like a real cypress tree, the bark is rough and the tight pine needles are prickly in your hand. Above your head, lights like fireflies dance and illuminate the underside of the tree and the wet smell of moss fills your nose. You take a deep breath. Beyond the tree, the bayou stretches out with more cypress and cat tails. Much of the soft ground gives way to murky blue water, but you can see where a path would lead through the trees. In the distance some animal is shifting through the underbrush. This was much more pleasant than the foyer. Maybe you could convince Alastor about adding one of these to your room. 

That is, if he offered another favor for a favor. No need to push too fast. Push too hard. Besides, you had more pressing matters than asking after a backyard. 

“Well, you certainly know how to make yourself at home.” 

You jump nearly a foot in the air and whirl around. At the one seat, Alastor sips an after dinner espresso, eyes closed and legs crossed like he’d been there the whole time. Hell, maybe he had been here. Quickly, your smile returns along with a bout of anxiety. “It is lovely here. Can you blame me for getting swept up in the view?” Alastor opens his eyes just a bit to look you up and down. Then he rises, coming to your side. His hand rests on your shoulder and he turns you to face the cat tails. “Did you make it? Or is this some doorway to another place?” 

“A bit of both,” he says cryptically as you admire the slow moving current. “Have you thought about what treat you're giving me today, my deer?” His hand slides from your shoulder to the base of your neck, nails pricking at the nape. 

You scoff, and snap to face him out of his grasp. Alastor’s gaze that had been fixed on the back of your head locks onto your eyes instead. “Are you always this straight forward with your food or am I just lucky? Besides, there was no time limit on our little promise. Maybe I'd rather wait for tomorrow instead. Or even next week.” 

A staticky chuckle rattles from his chest and his hand comes to trace the line of your jaw instead. Your heart skips a beat. “Oh, I highly doubt that. Not when you’re so eager to please.”  He gives your cheek a sharp pinch. 

“Of course,” you fire back and lace your fingers behind your back. “I like pleasing everyone.” You strut past him, ears straight forward and tail aloft then take a seat on the little metal table. Confidently, you cross your legs at the ankle and lower your gaze at him. This can’t be too easy, or Alastor would lose interest in the game. “You’re not so special Mr. Radio Demon.” 

His head tilts and static blares in a sort of question. “A bit bold of you deer. Putting on a show for me, hmm?” 

You bite your lip and taste iron. “Please, who would ever need to put on a show for you?” Alastor’s face tightens, trying to discern your lie or maybe he’s just insulted. Either way, even if you’re new to this performance thing, it was having some sort of effect on the demon. “So, I was thinking-” you point to your arm- “here-” you point to your thigh- “Or here.” 

Alastor’s eyes light up. “Oh-ho, multiple choice!” He gives your arm a pat. “Let's start here.” Suddenly, something strong wraps around your waist and you're lurched from the table to a chair that appears from thin air. The momentum almost makes it topple to the marsh. You lurch forward, grabbing the table and landing hard on the glass. Before you can right yourself, that strange force grips around your wrist, trapping it against the table.  

Then the jazz kicks on. 

And there's a knife. 

It's a quick flick of the silver blade and a ribbon of flesh is sliced away from your inner arm. “Ah-!” the scream dies in your throat as he pops the bit of you into his mouth. Can't interrupt his morsel, where were your manners? With teeth grit and fist balled you bite out, “-ah, little warning next time?” Alastor side eyes you, appreciating the bite with hums of enjoyment instead of an answer. The cut is painful, but clean. As if he'd sliced a filet off your forearm. You take in a sharp breath. There isn't much blood and the wound is quick to start patching up, but it's definitely deeper than the last time. Around your wrist, a shadow keeps your arm locked in place. It feels like it might give if you pulled hard enough but you keep your arm still the best you can. 

“Tasty,” he remarks and your stomach flutters as he lines the blade up for another go. There's more warning but not enough and you bite down on the inside of your cheek. He pauses a moment watching you wince, smirking at your reaction. This time, he slices your flesh into a few pieces using a knife and fork. Taking his time. 

Savoring this.  

With each bite, you stare intently, a tight lipped smile fixed in place. Each bit of you slipping down Alastor's throat made your abdomen tighten with something between nausea and excitation. While this was different from the last time, like an after dinner snack instead of a quick exchange, you can't help but feel a twinge of resentment. Last time had been close. Intimate. You want to feel his teeth again. 

“It's rude to stare, deer,” red eyes meet your own before turning down and taking another cut, this time off your bicep.  

Intimidated, your gaze snaps to the blade, watching his knife cut a good inch into your arm then glide down along the bone. He must notice your struggling to keep still, as another black tentacle loops around the hollow of your elbow. This is the most he's taken. Red. Dripping. It hurts, more than the others but you can't tear away as Alastor flays the skin from his prize. Had you not known better, the muscle of your arm might have been appetizing. Like a cut of flank steak in need of a good seer. 

And Al finishes it in one bite.

“Enough,” it sounds more confident than you feel. His fingers click and the hold of your arm lets up. You scramble back, running your fingers up and down the new skin. It smooths and prickles at your touch. Luckily you’re not prone to scarring. “That was a bit much for a palette cleanser, don't you think?” you snap. Chills still run up your arm and where he cut tingles like a limb that had fallen asleep.

He dabs his mouth on a handkerchief embroidered with a big ‘A.’ It comes back with a blot of red. “And you handled it surprisingly well,” Alastor muses with a note of pride. “Not many are quite so calm under my knife.” 

“Yeah, and not many patch quite this quick,” you fire back, goosebumps dot the flesh, the new nerves flaring in the cool air, but you drop your arms to your sides and approach the little table once more. Anyone else would be bleeding all over his nice grass. “Does our agreement still stand? Favor for a favor?” 

“Questioning my integrity as an overlord?” he jabs with a hint of sarcasm, and takes a long, loud sip from his expresso, making you wait as he finishes the drink. “You are a bit of a spit fire today. What is it you’re after, my deerest?” Your tongue suddenly feels thick and dry in your mouth. It had been so perfect in your brain, just ask him to fix your problem. A simple intimidation from the Radio Demon and you’d be off the hook and out from under that Shylock’s thumb. Then these freaky visits would be over. Huh. Or even ask about having a portal to this realm in your own room. Heaven knows how much you missed the fresh air. Just say something. Alastor regards you with glee as your brain desperately tries to concoct exactly how to answer him. “Now, now, don’t think about it too hard on it, you’ll have steam coming off your ears any moment.” 

You blink twice at his smug grin, when the request hits you. Just the thing to make the sinner squirm and keep him guessing without giving away too much of yourself. Just the thing to stay in the game. “No, I know what I want.” 

“Hmmm?” He thinks he’s winning. 

“Flesh,” the words feel repellent on your tongue, but you smirk through it, “I want to try it. Yours, to be specific.” 

The music stops with an abrupt scratch of the record.