#but i would comply so quickly if he wanted to inspect me

[merakiui]

I feel like the Noble Bell Compound is very religious and cult like. It's gotta be rough to be a woman there, like handmaid's tale vibes

Terribly rough. T_T and you are so right. It's extremely cult-like. It's the situation in which the leader (Rollo) comes in to help when all hope seems lost and everyone thinks he's an absolute saint when he builds the compound up with sensibility and sturdier foundations and walls, as well as fostering such crooked ideals. A lot of people within the compound look up to him, treat him like he's some savior or a prophet, and Rollo always seems to know best. His two righthand men are so blindly faithful to him, and Rollo appears so kind and fair with everyone, including those within his close-knit circle. He's just so forgiving, so sweet. How could anyone distrust him? How could he lead anyone astray?

The entire compound feels like a utopia amidst so much dystopia, but the people who reside within don't see what lies beneath the compound in underground dungeons, where misbehaving nuisances are kept and silenced. Anyone who tries to question things, who tries to speak out against the little paradise Rollo has manufactured so dearly, so carefully, so graciously, conveniently vanishes to who-knows-where. No one questions anything because Rollo always has a perfect lie at the ready to keep the masses calm and collected.

Being a woman in the compound is not fun. At all. :( you're treated warmly (at first) just so you'll be tricked into a false sense of security, so you'll be more likely to accept the conditions in which you will be kept (and used). But the longer you spend amidst so many other brides, the clearer it becomes that you are not in equal standing with the others in this compound and Rollo certainly doesn't seem to think you are anything more than livestock meant for reproduction. However terrible his views are, Rollo still ensures the women are given adequate protection and care. After all, he isn't a monster (so he claims). You'll live comfortably (not as comfortably as those who are more privileged, but it's better than nothing), and you're given healthy meals each morning, afternoon, and night. You live like anyone else would, but there are a few rules that permit only to you.

For one, every woman within the compound must remain a virgin. If you don't bleed or feel any pain/discomfort the first time your husband takes you, you're seen as impure, a liar, a filthy slut. And when you're labeled as such, you're treated as such. Rollo conducts pussy inspections to make sure everyone is healthy and oh-so-pure (how he gleans that from running his gloved fingers along your folds or even forcing two inside your tight warmth just to see you squirm, you have no idea. He always spends extra time examining you; the brides gossip over this, eagerly insisting with hushed whispers that the compound leader fancies you. You shudder to think someone like Rollo would ever have his eye on you.)

Additionally, every bride must always wear white. It's a soft color, the symbolism of purity. You're meant to be demure and obedient things, subservient to the men who will choose from the lot of you as if you're nothing more than candy in a jar, eaten as easily as you are discarded. Every morning, it is mandatory that the brides stand before the compound leader and, in unison, list their vows, all of which have been stamped into your memory like a bad tattoo. Every morning, you promise you are pure, insist that your only hopes and dreams are to provide for the compound, to be good mothers, to be good brides, to remain untouched by sin, to remember these vows and hold them close to your heart. Essentially, by participating in this daily routine, you strip away parts of yourself and replace them with the parts the compound wants you to have, and by verbalizing them so often you'll begin to believe them, especially when everyone around you shares the same opinions and feelings on the matter. It is the finest form of brainwashing. And to make matters worse, to cement these ideals that have been practically engraved into you, Rollo always applauds the lot of you, smiles with so much satisfaction, praises everyone for such pleasant mindsets.

Every month his voice seems less like the harshest, grating static and more like a heavenly choir because, for all you've endured and will continue to endure, he is still the only beacon of light in this dark, dismal world.

[teamred]

gtfih (get the fuck in here)

✩‌ wade wilson/deadpool x reader | fluff | 1.3k

SUMMARY | every morning, you see a man and his dog walk past your bakery and all he does is stick his head through the door, inhales deeply, make a comment, then walks out. what gives?

WARNINGS | flirty banter with sexual jokes, none really!

RATING | teen+

“Oh, that smells like unicorn farts wrapped in rainbows!” 

At the bakery's front counter, you glance up at the chiming bell above the door. Your first customer of the day... with a really strange comment.

A tall, mottled man stands before you in a grey hoodie holding an equally odd looking dog with a lolling tongue. Definitely not a sight you see every day. 

He takes a deep, exaggerated sniff of the air.

“Morning!” you greet with a smile. “Come on in and—”

And just like that, he bolts out the door and back onto the street. His dog licks his face—actually, his open mouth—as they disappear from view.

What the fuck?

The next morning, it happens again. 

“Mother of holy Mary and Marvel Jesus, that smells like a threesome between me, a donut, and fuck-me chocolate syrup!” 

The man, again in the same coloured hoodie, pauses dramatically, closing his eyes and taking another long whiff as he half-leans into the bakery.

“Would you like to try—?” 

But before you can finish, he’s gone again, leaving you standing there in disbelief.

The third morning is not much different. 

Same man, same dog, same routine. However, this time, he doesn’t even say a word—just inhales, sighs in contentment, then spins around and exits as quickly as he entered. 

It keeps on happening until the end of the week. By then, you've had enough. 

Leaning on the counter, arms crossed, you watch from the counter as he comes into view by your window. 

His dark maroon hoodie is drawn tight, and in tow as usual is his dog drooling slightly against his shoulder. You brace yourself, eyes narrowing.

The door swings open.

“Wow—” 

“You, Mr. Dog Man!” You cut him off and point at him sternly. 

He raises an eyebrow, pointing a finger to himself as if saying, “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” you confirm, then you jab your finger towards your glass counter. “Kindly get the fuck in here.”

He chuckles, amused. “Did you just tell me to ‘get the fuck in here’?”

“Kindly,” you say, tilting your head with exaggerated politeness, “but yes.”

The man shrugs, complying with a casual stroll to the counter. 

“Alright, I'm in. What’s the dealio?” he asks, leaning on the counter with a smile. 

“What’s your name, sir?” 

“It’s Wade,” the stranger supplies, his smile widening. “Wade Wilson. Is yours ‘The Bitchy Baker Who Didn’t Have a Good Dicking This Morning’?” His words drip with sarcasm, but there’s a playful twinkle in his eyes. 

“Ha-ha. So funny,” you reply dryly. “You know, you can't just keep sticking your head in my bakery, make a comment, and then leave.”

“Why not? It's a free country,” he says, feigning innocence. 

You roll your eyes. “If you like the smell of my baked goods that much, why don’t you actually buy one? I can assure you that they taste better than they smell.” 

Wade smirks. “That’s what many of my ex-girlfriends said, but I could never trust them.” 

You ruffle your eyebrows at his offhand comment, but he moves on quickly. “Look, I never carry my wallet on my morning walks. Mary Puppins here would guilt-trip me into buying way more stuff than I need.” 

Your gaze drops to his dog, who’s happily panting in his arms and looking up with big eyes. “Her name is Mary Puppins?”

“Yup. Her previous owner—may he rest his soul—named her. Her new baby daddy—that’s me—just kept the tradition going.”  

“And she guilt-trips you into buying stuff?” you ask slowly in equal parts disbelief and intrigue. 

“Look at this face!” Wade exclaims, holding his dog out closer to you. “Wouldn't you buy her anything she wanted?” 

For a few beats, you inspect the dog and its outfit. A little red and black costume that looks awfully similar to something you’ve seen before, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. But yes, her owner was right; she did have something oddly endearing about her. 

“Is it okay if I pet her?” 

“Oh yeah,” Wade nods enthusiastically, “go right ahead.”  

Based on her lack of facial expressions, Mary Puppins seems indifferent to your pats and scritches, but her tail is wagging, so she must be enjoying it slightly. Wade watches you in approval.  

You retract your hands, wash them quickly, then grab a tray of goods out from one of the shelves in the counter. 

“Well, since you don't have your wallet, have one of these on the house,” you say, placing the tray in front of him. 

Wade gasps theatrically, eyes twinkling in delight at all the choices he can possibly have. He takes his time, hovering his free hand over the array of pastries, until he finally decides on a chocolate croissant. 

One bite, and his reaction is nothing short of dramatic, but that seems to be this guy’s style.

His eyes flutter to a close, and he lets out a moan that echoes in the quiet bakery. You smile proudly and mentally pat yourself on the back. 

“Oh my God, they always talk about having a foodgasm, but my mouth is literally coming with each bite. Oh my fucking God!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, bring your wallet tomorrow and you can have plenty more foodgasms.” 

“What—my handsome features don't get me free baked goods?” Wade leans the rest of his croissant towards Mary Puppins, who’s trying her best to nibble at it, but is mostly just licking it.

“You're cute, but you’re not that cute," you tease. Looking beyond his skin condition, he was a teensy bit handsome, you had to admit.

“I used to wear a wig. I’ll put it on again if it means I get free shit. Would that help?”

It’s hard not to smile in front of him. “No, I don't think so.” 

“People say I look like Ryan Reynold’s hotter cousin when I’ve got a full load of hair on me.”  

You huff and shake your head in disagreement. 

“How about a date?” Wade asks with a wink. “There’s financial compensation in that—that’s gotta count for something.” 

A date would count for something, but you didn't want him to be out of the waters yet.

“Come back tomorrow with your wallet and a date could maybe be in your future,” you reply flirtatiously. 

Wade nods with a grin and begins to walk backwards towards the door. 

“If I’m late though, it’s ‘cause I’m too busy jerking it while fantasizing about having those beauties in my mouth again.” 

You sputter a laugh. Feeling brave, you decide to channel his humor and reflect it back at him. “Wow, maybe you’ll be only one minute late, if you can even last that long.” 

He gasps in mock horror and jogs back to the counter again to take another baked good. 

“This is compensation for that comment…” he says with squinted eyes, stuffing the pastry into his mouth. 

“Don’t come too hard tonight, handsome,” you say with a wink. 

“I’m legitimately so hard right now,” he says with a full mouth, pointing the half pastry braid towards his crotch. “As the kids say these days, you match my freak, lady. Say bye-bye, Mary Puppins!” 

Wade awkwardly adjusts himself to make his dog give a little paw wave, while she simply wags her tail. You laugh and shake your head, amused by his antics. 

As he finally exits, you hear him call out, “And if anyone asks, I’m just here for the sweet, sweet baked goods. Totally not because of the hot baker!” 

You bite your lip, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, as you watch him and his dog disappear down the street. As you return to work, you replay your interactions with Wade over and over, and realize he’s just as endearing as his quirky dog. 

You’re buzzing in anticipation to see Wade and Mary Puppins again tomorrow morning. 

[bunnysbrainrot]

Discreet

Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk

Relationship: Dean Winhester x Reader

Content: Sexual content, implied sex, sexting, Dean has a breeding kink, mentions of cum/creampies, exhibitionism fantasies.

Summary: While trying to focus on research, Dean executes a plan to distract you, shamelessly in front of his brother. Can you hold it together, or will you crack under the pressure?

"Hold on, I think we're looking at the wrong Louisville," Sam speaks up. You whip your head to the brother before opening your laptop to inspect for yourself.

Dean arches an eyebrow, "Sam, there are a million Louisville's, you gotta narrow it down."

In his lap, Dean begins to type into his phone. You shift in your seat, staring at your open laptop, opened to a list of different states that are each home to a different Louisville. In your back pocket your phone vibrates against your chair. You glance at Dean before opening the new notification.

I'm bored.

You stifle a laugh but roll your eyes, replying to Dean.

Another vamp case isn't enough for you?

You see Dean smirk out of your periphery. Sam's brows furrow as he mutters to himself, scrolling through different sites and resources, occasionally asking for your and Dean's input.

"We've checked Kentucky and Georgia already - I think Ohio should be next on our list."

"Since when do Vampires attack cities just based on its name?"

Sam clears his throat. Your phone vibrates in your hand; you swiftly check the message, but instantly forget the start of Sam's explanation.

You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.

A rush of red floods your cheeks before you shove the phone back into your pocket. You snap back to attention for Sam, though your mind is traveling elsewhere.

"The way I see it, vampires can have a pretty twisted sense of humor. It's possible that vamps from all of these different states thought it would be funny to go after their own Louisvilles."

Despite Sam's talking, Dean's attention is set on you as you try to pay attention. He smiles when he watches you falter over Sam's words, and laughs when you have to ask Sam to repeat part of what he said. Of course Sam pays little mind at first and simply reiterates, but still shifts his attention to Dean. You take a break to reply to him.

right now??? Dean we're literally in the middle of our research.

A swift reply from a too-cool Dean: I know.

You put down your phone with a short exhale and school yourself back into a research mindset. A few minutes pass without a disturbance, save for the occasional comment or question from you or Sam, but there was radio silence from Dean. Until he prods further, at least.

"Hey, check the link I sent you," after you perk your head up, you realize that Dean's focus is on you once again.

"Could you send it to me, too, Dean?" Sam requests.

Dean quickly changes the subject, "It's not for the case, it was somethin' we were talking about earlier. But trust me, if I find anymore nerd content, I'll send it your way."

Sam gives his brother a glare before he tends back to his laptop. You comply with Dean and look at your phone, and it takes everything in your willpower to keep yourself collected.

I would fuck you on this table right now, if I could. You're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

You accidentally chuckle, bringing Sam to attention again. You mutter an apology at his confused look and you both look back to your computers. Hiding your phone behind your laptop screen and out of view, you watch the flood of Dean's texts come in.

You would sound so much prettier if I could hear your screams echo off the walls.

Warmth floods between your thighs - you instinctively clench onto nothing but the thought of Dean buried in you, splayed wide on the mahogany table. Your mind rushes to the idea of Dean bending you over onto the wood, holding you firmly at the hips as he juts his hips from behind.

Everything alright, sweetheart?

His teasing leaves you scowling at your phone. Hopefully your expression could be assumed to be directed at your research, which hasn't made any progress, no thanks to Dean. You debate your reply before sending it.

What else would you do?

You see a smile stretch Dean's lips as he prepares his response. You tense as you await, but his text is drawn out, making you wait. Dean was delivering this flawlessly - just enough to watch you squirm and lose yourself to the thoughts.

I would start out slow. Ideally you'd just be in a t-shirt and panties, sitting right here in front of me on the table. I would lean you back, and slowly pull your panties to the side...

It was all he gave you, for the time being. You shift in your seat again, clicking your laptop a few times to build the illusion of intent research.

Your phone buzzes with a new message.

I would start with my fingers. I'd tug your panties to the side, and slip a finger in. You'd sound so much better when you'd try to keep quiet. I would make you come with one finger, then two, then three.

The reply to him is short, but it's all you can muster as you've fallen under his spell, Would we be alone?

Dean clears his throat before he rises from the table. He holds an arm in front of his crotch and quickly turns to leave for the kitchen.

"Want a beer?" he asks generally.

Fuck, you needed more than a beer. To deal with this, he should've offered a handle of vodka for you to drown out the untimely advances.

"Sure," echo you and Sam, smiling at each other that you spoke at the same time. After all these months with the brothers, you all had really begun to mimic behaviors. It was a beautiful sign of the time you've shared and the intricate work you all put into your relationships.

It's a nice way to clear your clouded head. That is, until you see a new reply from Dean. You make a particular effort to watch Sam out of the corner of your eye.

Doesn't matter. If someone was home, they'd have a hell of a show.

You quip, You're feeling pretty bold, huh?

He reminds you, Again, you're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

Dean comes back into the room, meticulously holding three beers in one hand, while he texts with the other. You're intently eyeing your phone as you await his reply.

I'd add my tongue, too. I know exactly what pretty sounds you make when I've got my fingers in your pussy, and your clit in my mouth. You'd look so pretty trying to grip onto the table.

The scowl stitching your brows together softens as you feed into the flirtations. A fresh flow of heat melts between your legs, reminding you immediately of the power Dean could have over your body, even without using his hands.

You'd be shaking by the time I was done. You would be begging like you always do. Begging for my cock, begging me to fill up your needy pussy. Cause my hands just aren't enough to fuck you dumb, are they?

Breath hitches in your throat. Are you seriously about to full-on sext Dean right in front of his brother? Surely, Sam would have to notice at some point, though Dean shows no sign of him regarding it.

No, sir, you admit. You prop your phone back on your laptop and 'continue to research', pathetically at that.

Sweet girl is always needing my big cock to ruin her insides, isn't she?

The image of Dean's length intrudes your thoughts, throbbing and leaking with beads of precum. You can envision its warmth at your entrance, and the way Dean notches the thick head of him into your tight hole before he eases himself inside. Your fingers ache with the effort of not shoving them into your slicked panties to toy with yourself.

Dean's teasing doesn't ease in the slightest. If anything, it seems like he's trying to have you undone. Begging.

You'd ride me in the chair, first. I would have you fuck yourself onto my cock, but you wouldn't be able to come yet. Not until I can watch the way I stretch you open on the table.

Sam's muttering saves you from falling too deep into the rabbit hole Dean's excavated for you. You steady your breath, debating the risk of replying back to Dean. If he's finding amusement in doing this, you can't tell - his expression is cool and collected, to your frustration.

Do you know that your tummy bulges when I'm inside you? I'd make you watch. You'd see how my big cock shoves into that tight pussy, stretching her wide open for me.

You squirm helplessly in your seat, crossing your legs to stifle the dull throbbing radiating from your clit. With your thighs shifting together, you brace yourself to finally issue a reply.

You're mean

Dean audibly chuckles. Sam inspects him and scowls, "Dean, are you even doing your research? We really need to work on this - we're leaving tomorrow."

The eldest Winchester trains his expression back to utter seriousness, "Y'gonna wring my neck for taking a break?"

"This is important-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean dismisses, zoning back in on his own laptop and ignoring his glaring brother. You ease slightly now that the heat is pushed to Dean. But, the texts don't stop. Dean assumes a stronger façade, steeling his poker face.

You like it, though. I don't think you understand how wet you get when I'm a little mean. You love being my perfect slut. I wish you knew how tight you feel when I call you a whore.

The answer was evident in your sex. Your walls flutter around the emptiness in your neglected pussy, longing for a proper filling. Lust glazes your eyes as you glance up at Dean, finding him smirking knowingly at you. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Dean, I'm sending you some articles. These are from the Lousiville in Ohio - those deaths look pretty similar."

Sam's words fall on deaf ears. After a few moments, Dean finally opens the links his brother sent him, giving you a bit of a break from his relentless texts.

You direct your attention back to your laptop and ogle at the screen. The thoughts Dean planted in your mind run a rough course, battering you with each thrust and moan that could be happening if you and Dean were alone.

Assuming Dean's read the articles, you stare at his next text, heat rumbling in your gut.

Would you be a good cumslut? Would you take my cock like a needy little whore?

He needs an answer. Dean needs to know that his words are taking effect, and he wants to hear it from you - how eager you are.

You reply, I would. I'll be a good girl.

Because you know what I do with brats, right? Dean's reply shudders through your core.

This time, you don't reply. Ultimately, his question is rhetorical and answered immediately in your subconscious. Any sort of bratty behavior is quickly corrected by either Dean's punishment, or a complete denial of any stimulation until you were begging for Dean's forgiveness. You'd spent countless times on your knees, in front of Dean's cock, begging for him to absolve you, and fuck you senseless.

If you're good, I'll give you what you want. How does it feel when my cum is deep inside of you?

The drenched fabric of your panties rubs against your slick folds. You adjust your sitting position, sitting up to let yourself open onto the material of your underwear. Ever so slightly, you grind yourself in your seat, watching Sam intently out of the corner of your eye, hoping he won't notice the feeble attempt to get yourself off.

The reply is short, It feels good, sir.

Dean clears his throat, and pretends to open a web browser.

I know, sweetheart. Feels good to keep me in your sweet pussy, keeping all of my cum for yourself. It feels so good to breed your cunt.

A deeper strain aches at your arms, urging yourself to take your own break to relieve yourself in the bathroom. Dean can see you squirm in your chair, and intentionally avoid his stare.

He texts you again, trying to earn a visible response to his taunts.

After I'm done, I would hold your legs open and watch my cum leak out of you. One of these days, I want to see how many times I can do it in a day. You'd be messy all day long.

You envision it yourself - the foreign image of white, warm ropes of Dean's cum spilling out of your stretched cunt and onto the floor below, wasted. Tightness pulls your abdomen taught as you think about being bred for an entire day, all to Dean's satisfaction. Your pussy clamps down onto nothing, yet again, at the sheer thought of it.

"I'll send you the same articles I sent to Dean. Let me know what you think," Sam is honing in on you this time. You nod and keep an eye out for the incoming links, and click on them. Eyeing them intentionally, you try to shove aside the persistent fantasies from taking over your senses.

Another text pops up on your screen.

It would be a lazy day. In the morning I would fuck you slow, giving you your first load of the day. We'd make lunch. You'd still be sore, but not as sore as you'd be after we eat.

Your mind travels elsewhere. The computer screen fades out of your attention as your eyes glaze over again.

I would fuck you on the kitchen table. You'd pull your panties up right after I was done and sit in my cum for hours, waiting for more. I wouldn't let you take those panties off. You wouldn't waste anything I gave you.

He was exactly right. It didn't matter how many times Dean had spilled himself into you, you relished the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of your pussy, precisely where it should be.

You want to touch yourself, don't you, sweetheart?

Your fingers twitch at the screen, as if they want to follow Dean's question to provide him a swift answer.

I want you to fuck me.

Dean's smirk grows. Your breath grows strained as he replies.

Needy little slut.

It would've been your undoing if it weren't for Sam's company. You throw a pitiful look toward Dean, but it goes ignored.

You'd let me take you anywhere in this bunker, wouldn't you? I could fill you up in every room of this place.

You reeled over the number of room's in the bunker, listing them off until you lost count. The slick between your folds soaks your panties further as you writhe gently in your chair.

I know you will. You would love knowing that I've stuffed your cunt in every room. And no one else would know, but we would. It would give you plenty to think about.

The mere idea of it gave you more than enough to go off of. How Sam hasn't realized that something's amiss, you don't understand, but are silently thankful that he can't see your unraveling. Dean, however, cannot focus on anything else. The strain of his cock against his jeans is bordering on discomfort, but he intends to keep you under his spell.

He lowers a hand to his lap and slightly grazes the growing bulge. Dean seems to have teased himself just as much as he did you - all thoughts of research dissolved in the presence of his new fantasies.

I'll bet you $10 that Sam is gonna run an errand after this. We should see how well we can use the free time.

A new tension tightens in your tummy. There would be no telling how long Sam would be occupied for, but Dean didn't see any qualms.

Yes, but maybe not in the main hall, for everyone to see us?

Your compromise is accepted. Dean nods slightly across from you, still staring at his laptop screen, then glancing to his phone.

Prude.

Under the table, you kick Dean's shin. He yelps at the new pain in his leg, earning a confused look from his brother. Sam looks between the two of you quizzically.

"Do y'all need a room to yourselves, or something?"

Dean smiles at his brother, avoiding your new glare, "No, no, we're fine. Aren't we, baby?"

The glare doesn't let up, but you don't reveal the truth of your texts with Dean. You look to Sam and jab a thumb toward his brother.

"He's being a dick, can you punch him for me?"

Without question, Sam delivers a firm punch to Dean's arm. Dean's shocked frustration is met with a devilish smirk from you, satisfied that you're now blameless. A moment after the brotherly bickering, a new text lights up your phone.

You're mean

You giggle at the screen and send him a final reply, letting him sit with the thoughts he'd poured into both of your heads.

I know. But, you like it.

Hey everyone! If you enjoyed, please help support my writing by reblogging!

Apologies that this took so long. I appreciate all of your kind messages as I balance how busy life has been lately. Thank you for all of your love and support! Happy reading!

-Bunny

[kyu-piddy]

New Year’s Kiss

An: Happy new year everyone! Exams are kicking my butt, so I haven’t been able to write much. Even so, here’s a little something to celebrate the beginning of 2025!

Gn reader x nrc students (minus Ortho)

Words: 5.3k words

Tw: None

The clock strikes midnight, the new year commences, and the man you secretly love stands in front of you.

Eyes locked and heart in your mouth, seconds pass in silence…

Ace

Ace’s mouth quirks into a little smirk.

“I know you’re just dying to kiss me, Prefect.”

His jeering tone is contrasted by the heat climbing up from his neck to his cheeks, hand on the back of his head.

“Maybe you’re the one dying to kiss me, Ace.”

His false confidence crumbles, his gaze faltering to the ground.

“Maybe… Just maybe, I do.”

The festivities around you continue, but time stands still as you take a step forward, so uncertain in your certainty.

As your faces are merely inches from each other, you stop, sudden shame coloring your mind.

Before you can put much more thought into it, Ace leans forward and steals a kiss.

Soft and brief, he quickly pulls away, turning his head around just as quickly.

“The others are probably looking for us. Let’s go.”

He starts walking fast, bashfulness leading his feet, but passion leading his heart, and hand, to yours.

Deuce

Deuce seems momentarily lost, briefly fleeting from confused to bashful, before setting into a serious expression, resolute on whatever his mind has decided.

“Prefect, there’s this new years tradition I’d really like to try.”

His practiced speech stops midway, loosing himself in your inquisite eyes.

Murmuring something to himself, he throws himself forward, grabbing your hands with his, a violently soft prayer of acceptance.

“I really want to kiss you!”

You blink stupidly back at him.

He takes a step back, a dejected look on his face.

“Only if you want to, of course. I’d never want to force you.”

Grabbing his tie, you shut him up with a kiss.

He freezes, insecurities of a first kiss clouding his judgement, but slowly and surely melts into it.

Cater

“Happy new year! Since I found you first, you have to give me a big ol smooch.”

You roll your eyes, but nevertheless lean into his face, landing a soft kiss on his plush cheek, small specks of glitter reflecting the low lights of the room.

“Happy now?” you ask, a small smile on your face not reflected in your heart.

Cater puts on a pondering face, finger tapping on his chin, pensative gaze staring straight through you.

“Uhmm… Not really, no.”

He chirps, and his airy smile drops, replaced by a surprisingly serious look.

“I want a real kiss,___.”

“Cater, don’t play around! I swear, it’s too early in the year for a magicam challenge.”

You playfully slap his arm, a chance for him to grab it and pull you close, his other arm resting on your lower waist.

“I don’t always play around, you know?”

Releasing your arm, he leads his hand to the back of your head.

The sparkles on his cheeks are the last thing you see before you’re engulfed in a fiery kiss, one that you’ll remember forever.

Trey

“The mess after this party is going to be immense. I pity whoever will have to clean it.”

“Thankfully it isn’t us! I can already imagine the hours it would take to clean the stains of that carpet.”

Trey is extremely good at small talk, and soon enough the moment dissolves like morning dew.

You can’t help but pity it, cursing your own innactiveness.

Warm eyes inspect you without you noticing, critical but not antagonizing, waiting for an opening.

Then, something clicks.

“Prefect, I think I saw something in your teeth.”

“What!” You let out a gasp of embarrassment, hand shooting up to hide your momentary blemish.

“Now, let me see.”

He moves close to your face, slowly unpeeling your hand of your face.

“Open your mouth, please.”

He orders politely, not leaving you any choice.

You comply, his hand on your chin, and after a quick inspection, Trey speaks up.

“It seems I was mistaken. Apologies, Prefect.”

You close your mouth, but before you can thank him something warm graces your lips.

Bashfully, you close your eyes, his lips on yours like heaven.

His tongue slithers between your lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, memorizing them.

Treys warm lips leave yours, a cheeky grin replacing his former expression.

“Now I’m completely sure there’s nothing there. Thank you for collaborating.”

You give him an annoyed look and he merely chuckles in response.

Riddle

“Riddle, did you know there’s a New Years tradition of kissing someone at midnight?”

You ask, breaching the silence.

“I have heard of it. Mother always said it was a glorified disease spreader.”

He answers matter of factly, and you feel yourself deflating.

“Is that so.”

More silence. You shuffle your feet around, unsure on how to proceed.

As the seconds pass by, midnight and one minute inches closer.

“Please do not participate in such an activity, Prefect.”

You feel exasperation boiling over, like a petulant child being told by their parents what not to do.

“Why not, Riddle?! If you don’t want to, why shouldn’t I go find someone who wants!”

Riddles eyes widen, his face exploding in a fiery red color.

He clears his throat, doing his best to look you in the eye.

“You’re right, Prefect. I can’t tell you what to do. I just… I wouldn’t want you to do such a thing with someone else because I want to be the one that you… that you kiss.”

An exasperated plea, love and desperation coating his unsure voice.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, thump thumping louder each time.

“Would you do the honor of letting me kiss you?”

Riddle asks, a wish and a request all at once.

“There’s no else I’d rather do it with.”

Even if midnight had already passed, Riddle and you still shared a New Years kiss, tinted with the flavor of strawberries.

Jack

“Prefect, you’re hurt.”

You looked down at your ankle, a bitter red pulsating under the supple skin.

“It’s fine. I think I just tripped earlier. Don’t worry about it.”

You smile at him winningly, but his worries are not soothed by your words.

Your feet are pulled out of the ground, a small gasp escaping your lips, as Jack picks you up.

He carries you to a small room and sits you down on a chair, unbothered by your flustered opinion.

“There’s a first aid kit here. Take off your shoe and give me your foot.”

You comply, even as redness creeps up and stains your feautures.

Jack starts applying some sort of cold cream, and then fixes you up with bandages, his hands unexpectedly tender despite their rough exterior.

“Thank you, Jack. I feel much better.”

“Good.”

He answers almost disinterestedly, his soft smile letting his true feelings shine.

“Sorry for making you miss the best part of new years.”

Your voice fails you as your mind scrambles to find the right words.

“I want to make it up to you.”

Slowly, very slowly, you approach his face, gauging his expression.

It remains painfully unmoving, but his tail waggers behind him, giving you all the confidence you need.

Lips on lips, gently like a flowers touch, you don’t let yourself get too carried away.

“We should probably go back.”

You comment.

He nods his head, a dust of pink gracing his cheeks, as he once again swoops you off the ground, his tail wagging the only assurance you need.

Ruggie

You feel your pocket rustling as Ruggie walks past you, too quick for you to catch up to him.

Rummaging through said pocket, you find your phone missing.

“Ruggie, come back!”

Perusing the room with your eyes like a detective inspecting the scene of a crime, you spot his tail peeking from behind a door.

Running as best as you can through the crowd of intermingling bodies, you reach the door and quickly slip in.

The room you slip into is empty and slightly dusty, unknown to the partygoers.

“Ruggie, where are you?! I saw you come here.”

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, warm and soft palms blocking your line of sight and reason.

“Caught ya. Shishishi.”

He laughs lightly near your ear, the baby hairs on your neck standing on edge.

“Can I have my phone back now?”

He laughs again.

“I can. But I have a price.”

His hands slid away from your eyes, and you turned around to him.

“Close your eyes, and you’ll get your phone back.”

Cheeks flaring up, you complied.

But instead of the cold metal of the phone sliding into your pocket, you felt the warm breath of the one you had long pinned for against your face.

And in no time at all, his lips on yours.

Leona

Leona’s languid gaze swept through your body, resting upon your face in the end, a lazy smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

“Isn’t there something you should be doing, herbivore?”

“Getting more fruit punch? I definitely should be doing that.”

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

His words made butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart skip a beat, but your face remained calm and composed.

You would make him break first in this long lasting dance of yours.

Suddenly, he got close. Much too close, as your back hit the wall, one of his arms caging you in.

“Little herbivore, you can keep running and hiding, but sooner or later you’ll have to give in.”

You mulled over his words, a coy look decorating your face, innocence disguising your true intentions.

“If you’re not going to stop me, why should I? Maybe if I ask Malleus-”

Your words were cut off by his mouth on yours, a ferocious and heated kiss, his taste and smell invading your senses until you could no longer remember anything else.

“Are you going to ask that stupid lizard now?” he breathed out in bettwen kisses.

“Never.” you answered, pulling him closer by his collar.

Azul

“Ah, dear Prefect. Are you enjoying the Mostro Lounge new year party?”

He curtsied you with his hat, a perfect old timey gentleman.

“Indeed, I am. I wonder how this party has all my favourites coicidentally. Favorite beverage, favorite food, even my favourite color is part of the main decorations.”

You made sure to give him a significant look, his gaze unfaltering under your scrutiny.

“What interesting coincidences, aren’t they?”

His smile never faltered, ever so politely fake.

“Our vip lounge has some extra festivities that could be to your interest. Perhaps could I escort you there?”

“No, thank you. I’d rather go back to my friends.”

His smile fell momentarily, a shocked look on his face quickly covered by his suave persona.

“But I insist, Prefect.”

“And I insist on no. I have to go.”

Making your way through the room, you counted down from five in your head.

As it reached one, the twins appeared in the corner of your eye, turning into a makeshift wall, stopping you in your tracks.

“Heyaaaa, Shrympy. You have to go back to Azul, or he’ll surely blow a fuse.”

“That’s right, our esteemed guest. Our dear Azul is waiting for you.”

“Then tell him to come get me himself.”

The twins look at each other before swiftly dispersing.

In seconds, Azul appears, looking slightly frazzled.

“So dear Azul, did I ruin your perfect plan for new years? Let me guess, you wanted to take me to the vip lounge, butter me up, and then kiss me?”

Undeciferable emotions pass through his eyes like a carrousel as you simply smile at him mischievously.

His mouth moved, something about to be said, but you didn’t let him, kissing him before a sound could be uttered, and breaking away even faster, quickly shuffling away to the table where your friends sat, but not before saying one last thing.

“Happy new year, Azul. Let’s hope next year you can kiss me for a change.”

Jade

“Jade, there’s a strange mushroom in my glass.”

Jade smiled widely at you, eyes closed and hands politely folded.

“Is it so, now? May I see it?”

Handing him your cup, he observed the floating little fungi.

“Oh, dear. I’m not quite sure, but if this mushroom is the one I believe it is, it isn’t toxic per say, but it has serious side effects, such as vomiting and rashes.”

You raised one of your brows at him, his impassive face unfaltering.

“How could such a mushroom end up in the drink of a client at a restaurant? Seems very unlikely.”

“Unlikely but not impossible. Certain students of this school are known for their mischievous streak. But for now, what matters most is helping our esteemed customer.”

“And how can you help me?”

His eyes opened, he stared at you with his menacing smile, teeth barred for all to see.

“Thankfully, it is very simple. The victim of the mushroom must simply have the toxin extracted from the zone in the body where it went into contact with.”

“Right. And how do you do that?”

“A simple suction motion can do the trick.”

“Really, now? Then in other words I have to ask someone to suck on my lips?”

“If it is the mushroom with those side effects, yes. It could also be a completely normal mushroom.”

You felt like rolling your eyes at him, his obvious stunt endearingly annoying.

“Okay. Then suck it out of my lips.”

Your direct answer didn’t seem to faze him as he leaned into you, slightly sucking on your lips.

Heat crept up to your face, his lips becoming warmer and warmer against yours.

“Uhmm, I’m not quite sure if it is that mushroom after all. Maybe it’s another one. I’ll have to test it to be sure.”

You went to grab your cup again to show him the mushroom again, but he held your cheeks with his hand and kissed you, properly, this time.

His tongue licked the bottom of your lips, and finding your teeth pliant, delved deeper, tasting all it could.

As he pulled back, you asked him.

“What mushroom is it after all?”

“Just a normal mushroom used for cooking.”

With a little smirk, he answered, and leaned again to kiss you.

Floyd

“Shrimpy, Shrimpy, if you don’t kiss me right now I’m going to squeeze your dumb friends reallll hard.”

Floyd’s burning gaze flustered you harder than any of his words, leaving your brain to catch up to your ears.

“You are not doing that! And I am not kissing you under a threat!”

You argued back at him, watching his face turn from a pearly white grin to pouty.

“Come on, Shrimpyyyyy. It’s a tradition on land to kiss someone on new years and I wanna do it.”

“Then go do it with someone else.”

You replied, cheeks flaming at the idea, but to proud to go back on your words.

His pout deepened, and he raised his arms.

“You’re so cruel. I don’t want to kiss anyone else! I want to kiss you, ___.”

The sentence starts airy and whiny, childlike even, but ends with a poignant seriousness that makes your eyes meet his.

“Kiss me. And only me.”

He orders, hand on your shoulder.

You furrow your brows at him.

“Only if you ask politely.”

He ponders your words, but does not heed them, leaning into you and stealing a chaste kiss before running away.

“Hey! Get back here!”

You run after him, but his gigantic legs and lanky build let him get away, as he shouts in a sing-songy voice.

“Shrimpys kiss is mine!”

Kalim

“So I was there, in my potions class, and then this frog flew into my cauldron and-”

You sighed, Kalim’s mouth running wild as he kept telling you stories of his day to day.

Normally, you’d enjoy his jovial and light conversation, but right now you expected a little bit more.

“Oh gosh, look at the time! It’s past midnight!” He comments excitedly.

“The fireworks are starting right about now! Let’s go, Prefect!”

On the balcony of Kalims room, you stand side by side observing the fire works, their light illuminating the night sky and reflecting in your eyes.

You shyly try to take his hand, but he is to busy gesticulating them around, pointing to each image produced by the fireworks with such wonder as if he had never seen them.

As the show draws to a close, he finally turns fully to you, eyes filled with happiness and a desire to please.

“Did you enjoy it? Don’t you think it was just the most amazing firework show you have ever seen!”

You smiled at him, but no answer could be given, as the carpet beneath you both flew from underneath you, sending you both crashing down onto the ground.

Something soft hit your lips, and you opened your eyes to Kalims lips on yours.

He quickly leaned back, red covering his face.

“Oh my… that was nice, wasn’t it?”

“I think so too.”

You answered, still a bit dazed, the full brunt of the embarrassment not yet settled in.

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes widened at his direct request, heart flying out of your chest.

“You can.”

Beneath the star lit sky, you kissed as many times as the stars would let you.

Jamil

“Are you still busy with Kalim?”

You asked, crossing your fingers in hope that Jamil could be yours, even if for just a minute.

“I’m afraid so. Kalim wanted to try a new drink, so I had to go prepare it.”

He gestured to the tray in his hand with his head, face umbetraying of any emotion.

Your own wasn’t so lucky, as you visibly deflated.

“Sorry to bother you then. I’ll go back to the refreshments table.”

Giving him a small smile, you started walking away.

His hand reached out, softly gripping yours.

“Give me a minute.”

You nodded, and watched as his back disappeared into the crow.

The sound of fireworks could be heard all around, overpowering any other noise, all the guests surrounding the windows and filling the balconies in hope of catching the best view, while you waited in the back.

As minutes ticked by, your hope depleted and your frown returned.

But your smile blossomed as you saw Jamil returning.

“I apologize for making you wait. Kalim wanted some more pillows.”

You held his hands on your own, softly brushing your thumb against the back.

“It’s fine. As long as I can steal you for just a bit.”

Silence reined bettwen you both, as the fire works raged on.

Soft gazes and tender hearts, you leaned closer and so did he, and sooner rather than later the silence was filled with a kiss.

Vil

“Dear, your makeup is smudged.”

Your eyes widened, searching for the nearest mirror.

“Where?! I swear, it must have been Ace with his stupid prank! I’m going to kill him!”

Taking a hand mirror out of his bag, Vil held it out for you to use.

“Thank you so much. I completely forgot mine!”

Seating on a random chair nearby, you started reapplying your eyeliner.

Vil watched you from the back, his reflection in the pocket mirror, even though small, imposing.

“I see you used the makeup I recommended. You sure do look splendid, my dear.”

“A compliment from you, Vil? My, I feel touched!”

You jested, a small laugh escaping the man behind you.

“I sure hope you do. I don’t hand out compliments that easily. Only to those who deserve it.”

His reflection in the mirror gets bigger as he keeps approaching you from the back, strands of blond hair draping over your shoulder.

“Turn to me. Let me help you with your lipstick.”

Face turned to the side, he felt even closer, amethyst eyes piercing through you and your makeup.

“Such a beautiful shade, isn’t it?”

“I think so too. And it barely stains, too!”

“I know, dear. But sometimes products are a little faulty and should be tested.”

His lips meet yours before you can even understand what’s going on.

Soft and fragrant, he moves away much too quickly, your head following his, even though you’re not connected anymore.

He laughs softly, a delicate and musical sound.

“So? Did it stain?”

You basfully inspect his lips, his makeup as pristine as if freshly put on.

“No. I don’t think so, at least.”

“Then shall we test it again? Any good products mustn’t be tested just once.”

“Of course.”

Your face flushes at his proposition, betraying you amd your willingness.

Vil doesn’t seem to mind, leaning down again and stealing another chaste kiss, and then another, and then another, until you can draw the shape of his lips with your heart.

Rook

“Ah, my little trickster! Enjoying the anne noveau? It’s a truly joyous ocassion!”

You smiled at Rook’s dramatics, deciding to humor him.

“And why is it so joyous?”

A mysterious glint lit up his eyes, mischievously charming.

“There’s this little traditión that certain people partake in during this occasion. A new years kiss. Have you heard of it?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows?”

You smile at him, mischievously coy, playing around with your drink like one who isn’t quite sure how to answer.

“My little trickster, how you tempt me so.”

Using his thumb and pointer, he takes a hold of your chin delicately possessive of a prize that is not yet his.

“This temptation you have laid upon me, won’t you help me satiate it? Let this curiosity of mine rest?”

Your heart beats rapidly, bravado gone as your gaze was forced to battle with his, an evergreen intensity that made you crumble.

“Since it’s also a curiosity of mine… I’ll let you.”

His mischievous smile widened, and with unexpected ferociousness, locked his lips with yours.

His hot mouth felt like a burning inferno, burning you up from the inside and leaving you wanting for more, needing him more.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, he leaned back, perching a finger on your lips.

“Not now, my ___. Let’s wait a little while longer, shall we?”

Epel

Epel shuffled awkwardly in front of you, his fancy clothing clashing with his dour expression.

“What’s up, dude? You look way too sour. Did Vil make you wear that fancy suit?”

“Yeah. I look like some sorta fancy pastry with too much frostin’.”

You giggled at his words, shaking your head.

“I think you look rather nice. But you can always shed the tie if it’s really bothering you.”

“That’s a darn fine idea.”

He quickly shoves the tie down his pocket, visibly relaxing.

“Better?”

“Couldn’t be better. I can finally move freely! Thanks! I owe ya one.”

He moves away, as if to go back to the dancefloor but turns back and runs towards you.

“To hell with it!” you hear him mutter, before bashing his lips onto yours, pure drive behind his every move.

He pulls back, eyes wide and breathing erratically, surprise by actions of his own doing.

“You’re redder than an apple.” he comments, still looking bewildered.

“So are you.”

“Guess we matchin’ then.”

He smiles, all teeth and small dimples, and you smile back.

Idia

The beeps and boops of Idia’s phone were the only noises made from either of you, the tall man hunched over on the floor, back to the wall, like a child hiding from his parents.

“Aren’t you going to go celebrate the new years with everyone?”

Without taking his gaze from the screen he answers matter of factly.

“Nah. Gotta grind for the new years event. Gachas can totally bs with their event requirements.”

“Okay then.”

You kept your back to the wall, staring into the crowd up ahead, a pang of sadness weighting you down.

“Big Brother!” chirped a happy voice.

“And Prefect! Happy new year!”

Ortho beamed happily, circling you both excitedly like a little rabbit jumping around.

“Big brother, have you given ___ the kiss of new years yet?”

Idia’s fingers stop for the first time in the night, a red game over flashing on his screen.

“New years kiss?” you ask gently.

“Yes, Prefect. Big brother said it’s a quintessential part of any romance anime that has a new years episode! The epitome of end of season drama. So, has big brother kissed you yet?”

Said big brother is slowly slipping further and further down, glueing himself to the floor, fiery pink hair licking at your feet.

“Not yet, Ortho. But don’t worry about it. I’ll help him with it, ok?”

Ortho nodded and merrily skipped away, leaving you with his distraught older brother.

Crouching down, you got your face in front of his, his eyes closed shut.

“Am I getting my kiss now?”

He groaned loudly, slightly opening one eye to peek at you.

“This is not fair. You know my weak point. It’s cheating!”

You giggled at his conundrum, bending down to close the final space left bettwen you two, giving him a little peck on the lips.

“Next year, you give me the new years kiss alright?”

Groaning, he turned to the side and curled into a ball, slowly nodding his head.

Malleus

“I finally found you, Tsunotaoru!”

The tall fae stood in the middle of a lonely balcony, his only companion the smiling moon.

“Child of man. You have come to visit me?”

He asked, joy and sadness laced onto every word.

“Of course I have. It’s new years after all. And no one likes to spend new years alone.”

“That I do believe to be true. Sadly, there are too many years and not enough people to spend them with.”

Malleus longingly observed the moon, heavy fog of uneasiness seeping through the balcony.

You approached him, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“One day, only that moon will still be here with me. And even she mocks my plight, smiling radiantly upon any who walk below her.”

Stroaking his arm gently, you spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

“Perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps one day, when the moon is the only that remains and she smiles at you, you’ll see the smile of everyone who used to smile at her too.”

Finally, he turned to you, holding your hand with a feather like touch.

“I quite like that sentiment, child of man. Even so, at least for tonight, I don’t wish to share with the moon. Tonight, shan’t you be only mine?”

A soft smile bloomed on your lips, your free hand caressing his face.

“Tonight, and forever.”

“Forever.”

His plush lips slotted perfectly onto yours, a warm kiss to truly last forever under the moonlight.

Silver

“Silver, wake up! It’s midnight!”

The silver haired man asleep on your shoulder remained so, the ruckus of the festivities almost like a lullaby to his tired mind.

“Oh, please, Silver!”

You shook him vigorously, and he finally awoke, startled.

“Prefect? Have I fallen asleep again?”

He looks around, in an unbotheredly lost way only someone who is used to falling asleep everywhere can have.

“Yeah, you did. And you missed the new years!”

“That’s fine. Every year there’s a new one. Besides, this year I have a higher priority.”

You raised a brow.

“A… higher priority?”

He nodded assertively.

“Father told me about this “new years kiss” tradition, and as such”- he got down on one knee in front of you, head bowed- “___, would you give me the honor of being my new year’s kiss?”

You stared at him, baffled and more than a bit unsure on how to react.

“Please get of the floor, Silver.”

“Is that a no?”

“I didn’t say that. I… I accept it.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as your almost sworn knight gets up from the floor and takes your hand in his.

“You’re rather beautiful,___.”

Face hot and stomach twirling, you can’t help but look away from his eyes.

“Please just kiss me already.”

“Of course.”

Closing his eyes, he gently presses his lips against yours, before promptly falling asleep on top of you.

You sigh, letting the man rest. Next year you’d get back at him.

Sebek

“HUMAN. HAVE YOU SEEN LORD MALLEUS! I WISH TO BE THE FIRST TO WISH HIM A HAPPY NEW YEAR.”

Sebeks voice boomed in your ear, and you feel the moment slip from your fingers like sand.

Annoyance creeps onto your voice and face, and you can’t help but shout back.

“I DON'T KNOW AND I DON'T CARE! LIKE YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE ABOUT ANY OTHER PEOPLE! DON'T YOU HAVE FRIENDS TO THINK ABOUT?! OR EVEN… me?”

Anger leaves your voice, and only sadness and solitude remain.

Sebeks shocked face reflects in your eyes, tears welling up and forming a cristaline pool.

“Go find your lord or whatever. I’ll find someone else to spend my new years with.”

You run away from him, hiding in a dimly lit room, tears falling down your cheeks and staining the floor.

Some time passes, and someone knocks on the door before bursting in.

“HUMAN I- I have come to apologize. My behaviour was unbecoming and I’d…”

His whole face was flushed red, as he tried to get his next words out.

He adjusted his posture, standing straight and then bending down, in a perfect 90 degree angle.

“I would thourogly enjoy spending new years with you, if you would like!”

A smile creeps onto your face as you dry your tears with the back of your hand.

“Sebek?”

“YE-Ahem, yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you.

“WHAT?!”

You threw yourself at his arms, letting them surround you and hold you as you bash your lips onto his.

He shyly returns, unsure of what to do.

“Stay with me tonight?”

You ask, unsure.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

Lilia

“Young ___, enjoying the new year celebration ?”

Hearing him call you “young”, felt like a stab to the heart.

Lilia always seemed to see you as much too young, much to green, to ever see you as more.

“Yeah. I am. What about you?”

He smiled gently, swirling his glass.

“The new year is a time of change, supposedly. Of growth. But an old man like me can’t do much of those things anymore.”

He sipped on his glass, unbothered by the implications of his words.

“That’s not true. No matter your age, you can always change. Hopefully for the better! Besides, you aren’t that old, Lilia.”

A depressed smile decorates his feautures as he turns to you, so different from his mischievous ones you’re used to seeing.

“ What if I told you I was indeed that old, ___? Would you still want to stay here in hopes of a new years kiss? Of a romance with a fool long past his prime?”

Your eyes widen at his serious tone, no bitterness or happiness in it, nothing at all, just truly neutral questions.

Even so, you felt your conviction solidify.

“If the self proclaimed fool past his prime would at least entertain the idea of me actually being in love with him, he could believe me when I say, I want only you.”

A small incredulous laugh escapes the man by your side.

“Perhaps I should entertain that idea.”

“Not perhaps. You really should.”

You stare at him resolutely, his smile morphing into one of his familiar mischievous ones you liked so much.

“If that is the case, first I have to get a taste.”

In the blink of an eye, he had his lips on yours, warm and softly aggressive, his fangs perfurating your lips and leaving tiny dots of red blood behind.

The metallic taste lingered in your mouth even as he retreated.

“You taste rather appetizingly, ___.”

Your blood colors your cheeks as well as your lips, the perpetrator of both fixing a hair of yours behind your ear, blissfully aware of your bashfulness.

[onehundredelevven]

Homicipher lads reaction to getting Christmas presents! I think it would be cute tbh!! It could be anyone honestly idc I just want some fluff

Hello anon ! Here's your request !! I had fun writing this(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) but do excuse me as I might not capture their character correctly. It's been so long since last played it;((

A Present for Me?

Homicipher characters x reader

content: pure fluff

☆☆☆

Mr. Hood

Mr. Hood sat stiffly on your couch, his massive frame making the furniture creak ominously. You handed him a neatly wrapped gift, his shadowy form tilting slightly in confusion.

“...What this?” he asked, tilting his head.

“It’s a Christmas present,” you explained. “You open it like this.”

He watched intently as you demonstrated on another gift, mimicking your motions with his clawed hands. When the paper fell away, revealing a hand-knitted scarf, he froze.

“...Warm?” He held it up, the dark tendrils of his body brushing against the fabric.

“Yes, you wear it like this.” You wrapped the scarf around his neck, the contrast between the soft material and his eerie figure almost comical.

“...Thank,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying a hint of something softer. He didn’t say more, but he wore the scarf for the rest of the evening.

---

Mr. Crawling

You knelt down to meet Mr. Crawling at his level, holding the gift out for him. He tilted his head, his expression managing to convey curiosity.

“Me... smell?” he asked, leaning closer to the package.

“No, silly, you open it.” You gently guided his hands to the wrapping paper.

He tore into it with a mix of clumsiness and enthusiasm, his long fingers working quickly. When the gift was revealed—a pair of gloves—you saw his body stiffen slightly.

“...What this?” he asked, carefully running his fingers over the fabric.

“They’re gloves. For your hands. I thought they’d keep you warm.”

“Warm?” His voice was soft, almost disbelieving, as he slipped them on. He flexed his fingers, his movements awkward but endearing.

“Good?” you asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Good. Warm. You... care for me?” His voice cracked, filled with a mix of awe and gratitude.

“Yes, of course,” you said with a smile.

Without warning, he leaned forward, gently nuzzling his head against your shoulder like an oversized, awkward puppy. “Me love you. You good. Me lucky.”

---

Mr. Silvair

Mr. Silvair sat cross-legged, watching you intently as you presented him with a gift. You could feel him scan the wrapping paper with suspicion.

“This... tradition?” he asked.

“Yes. Open it.”

He carefully unwrapped the paper, his movements precise. Inside was a journal and a fountain pen. A small, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips, his fingers brushing the cover.

“Write... me write. For... learn?”

“Yes. I thought you’d like to practice human writing,” you said with a smile.

He nodded, his stern demeanor softening. “Good gift. You... know me.” He hesitated before adding, “Thank you. I... like.”

---

Mr. Machete

Mr. Machete crossed his arms, watching as you handed him a gift.

“Why? What this?” he asked gruffly.

“It’s a Christmas present. Just open it.”

He frowned but complied, his strong hands making quick work of the wrapping paper. Inside was a simple, durable knife you thought suited his style, though it's nothing compared to his machete.

“Knife. Good,” he said, inspecting the blade.

“Thought you’d like it,” you said with a shrug.

He gave a low chuckle, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. “You know me good. You... strong gift-giver.”

---

Mr. Gap

You left Mr. Gap’s gift near the crack in the wall he usually appeared from, unsure if he’d even show up. Moments later, his face peeked out, his eyes narrowing at the package.

“For me?” he asked, his voice echoing slightly.

“Yes, for you,” you said, smiling.

He reached out, pulling the gift into the gap with him. You heard the rustling of paper before his voice rang out again. “Book, me here! I like!” It was just a book with ghost sighting, of him. But he really loves it.

“I see me in book. Good... Me like.” He grinned, disappearing back into the gap, only to reappear moments later with a small trinket for you. “Me give back.”

---

Mr. Chopped

You placed the gift box in front of Mr. Chopped, his eyebrows raised curiously.

“What this?” he asked, his cheerful tone brightening the room.

“I'll open it for you and see!”

He watched with utmost focus, the paper falling away to reveal a small comb and a reindeer hairband. His eyes lit up.

“For hair?”

“Yes, I thought you might like it.”

“Me love! You think of me,” he said, beaming. “Me look cute always now!” He laughed, wanting to try them on already.

---

Mr. Scarletella

You weren’t sure if giving Mr. Scarletella a gift was a good idea, but you did it anyway. He appeared in the doorway, his piercing gaze locking onto the box in your hands.

“For... me?” he asked, his voice low and hesitant.

“Yes. Take it.”

He stepped forward, his movements deliberate as he unwrapped the gift. Inside was a silk ribbon in a deep crimson shade with his name printed on it, nothing much. He stared at it for a moment before tying it around his wrist.

“You... thoughtful,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual. “I... keep always.”

Then he added, "Me want know your nam—" but didn't get to finish when you immediately closed the door. (Poor guy)

[shuugumi]

❥ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you surprise your boyfriend with a lingerie set for the first time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw (17+), established relationship, creampie, unprotected sex, squirting, pussy spanking, gojo x fem!reader, asfab, 736wc, rough fucking(?)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: had this in the drafts for so long and i finally got the motivation to finish it!!! i also didn't really read through it all so don't mind if there's any errors lol! 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧!

“that lingerie is working on you…” satoru says as he licks his lips, glistening crystal blue iris following your every movement as you get closer to the man who once rested peacefully on the king size mattress.

“you think so?” you question, standing in front of the mirror as you inspect the lingerie you had on. “of course i do, it looks too damn sexy on you!”

he stares at you like a pervert would, scanning your body. analyzing everything. it was like: satoru being a application that had to go through an updating system. he had to update the document of your body in his brain when he saw you in that white lacey lingerie.

you laugh at his comment, “mmm, if you say so…i was planning on returning it…” sighing as you played with the extra ruffles on the straps.

“well don’t return it!” satoru urges, getting up from the bed and quickly stands behind you. he looked at you from your physical body, to the body reflecting in the mirror. “baby” he coos while rubbing the curve of your waist, “you look like pile of swans…so sexy.” he whispers, guiding his hands down your curves and stopping at your hip dips. placing kisses around your shoulders.

“is that a good thing?” you ask softley, turning to the side slightly as you gained a view of your behind. “of course it’s a good thing.” satoru cajoled as he ran one his hands around one of your ass checks and then softley spanking it a few times.

“toru~” you whined, grabbing his free arm and giving him the eyes of want and need. the eyes that he could never not comply to.

the eyes that made him cave in so, so so easily…

"gonna ah, fuck you 'till you see yourself like how i- ahh fuckking do." his words spewing out in between grunts as he stuffs your tight pussy full. "ruu! goin' too fast!" you whine, moving your hand down to right above his pelvis, trying to slow him down.

"want me to sl-slow down?" he smirks, and you viciously nod, "yes please, s'too much!"

he does what you say but his thrusts become incredibly slow. hitting your sweet spot with every harsh and slow moving thrust that he gave to you. whimpering, you wrap your legs around his waist, heels of your feet resting on his gluteus medius. trying to use all your strength to force him forward quicker.

"thought you, wanted me to go slower hmm?" he questions, his pace still slow, hitting your cervix every few thrusts. "hmm not-not that slow." you grumbled and he laughed in your face. "make up your dumb mind. want me to go fast or slow." he says roughly grabbing your chin with one of his hands, looking down at where the two of you were connected as he thrusted into you.

"faster, please. wan' want to squirt on yuu." you babble and he quickened his pace. he stands straight, grabbing your legs as he starts to pound into you. hitting your cervix every time with every hard thrust.

your moans turning louder and the squelching sounds of your pussy filled satoru's ears. "rub your clit baby fuck--yeah just like that." his hands dragging from your legs to the lower part of your back, arching your back just the slightest but just enough that the tip of his cock repeatedly poked at your gummy spot.

"cumming satorruuu!!" you shout as your legs tremble and clear liquid sprayed all over satoru's pelvis, dampening his skin and the hair that layed. "atta girl--that's it. fuck gonna fill your pretty pussy up. ah fuck fuck fuck fuck, squeezing me so damn ti--aghh!" his white locks sticking to his sweaty forehead as he bites down his tongue.

"cum in me toru! need your cum in my pussy." you whine, grabbing onto his forearm and leaving crescent moon marks into them as his pace stutters, becoming more rigged and sloppy.

he cums and paints your gummy walls with his creamy white cum. giving you a few slow strokes before pulling out.

"that's slap a slap good slap pussy." he says, slapping your sensitive pussy with the tip of his cock. sliding the tip up through your folds and sinking the head into your entrance, teasing as he caught his breath.

"should...should wear lingerie more often...fucked--ah fucked me good, toru~" you say, rubbing circles on his back.

"think that's a good idea, baby."

who knew seeing you in lingerie for the first time would turn gojo satoru feral.

🩰 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[crusty-chronicles]

Stubborn

Synopsis: In which our two favorite demons tend to and scold Reader for being careless during a fight. Separate drabbles btw

Kurama 🦊🦊🦊

The first thought that crosses his mind is one of anger. How dare that feeble demon even think to put it's hands on you. The next is that there's blood. So much blood seeping from the wound on your side. The decision of what to do is made without hesitation. He wasted no time rushing to your side. Lifting up your shirt slightly to heal the wound.

The others would take care of the fleeing demon. For now, his top priority was you. Making sure you'd be okay. But apparently that wasn't how you saw it. Pushing his hands away with the little strength you had.

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You should go after that thing with the others,” you tried to sway.

As if your life wasn't more important.

Like he didn't cherish you more than anything.

His gaze hardened, maneuvering you on your back to get a proper look at your wound. Summoning his spirit energy in his palm and pressing it firmly against your side.

“You'd think of me so callous as to abandon my injured lover?” He questioned.

His accusation temporarily shocking you.

“No but-” ‘you shouldn't be wasting your time with me.’ you wanted to say. But you were cut off before you could finish.

“Then there's nothing more to discuss. When I'm finished, we'll go right back home. Yusuke and Kuwabara are more than capable of handling this by themselves.”

You once again shifted around, trying to get him to stop. The case came first. It should've come first. Not you. You were hurt, but wouldn't die from it. It was pointless wasting energy on something you could manage with on your own. Kurama shouldn't be focusing on you when there was still an important mission at hand.

He gave you a glare and that was all it took to have you stilling.

“Why must you insist on being difficult? Don't you know that I'll choose you every time? I'll always choose you over any fight, any mission, any person. No matter what, it's always you, so sit still and let me heal you.”

—------

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️

Impulsive, impulsive, impulsive.

He sees red the second your body hits the floor and you struggle to get up. A dark crimson trailing down your forehead.

Damn whoever hurt you, and damn anybody who dared get in his way.

He quickly slays the one responsible for your injury. Not even giving them enough time to process what's happening before it's over. When that's taken care of, he makes his way over to you. Shooing the group of your friends away so he can inspect your injuries himself. Despite the protests from a certain troublesome reaper.

“Let me see.” It's more of an order than a request.

But instead of complying, you turn your head and try to stand. Trying your best not to make a big deal out of nothing. Only for Hiei to shove you back down.

“I'm okay. It's just a scratch.” You brushed off, but he wasn't convinced in the slightest. Moving to wipe off the blood from your forehead.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Don't. It doesn't hurt, so leave it. And anyways, you shouldn't have killed that guy. He needed to be brought in for questioning.”

Your words only further irritating the three eyed demon.

It seems you didn't quite understand the importance you held in his life.

He would have slayed thousands for even looking at you wrong. And here you were defending some cretin who'd committed an offense that was deserving of a fate worse than death. Sometimes he hated that human heart of yours.

“Shut up. You don't get to run your mouth after being so foolish.” He scolded. Moving to heal your injury with his spirit energy. He didn't do it often, but you were always a special case. You were special.

Yet you continued to try and avoid his help.

“I'm fine!”

“Argue any further and I'll put you to sleep myself. You think I care about some low life over you? You must have a concussion if you believe that.”

Then his next words were softer. For your ears only.

“Your life takes priority over anyone and everything, got that? You're mine, and any creature that dares lay a finger on you will have to deal with that consequence.”

----------------

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Behind the Walls

Request: Hello! Erik Lehnsherr x FemReader with prompt “ stay with me” please? Requested by anon.

A/N: Initially, I was going with something angstier that would result in the reader's death, but then changed it completely.

WC: 1.4 K.

Fictober Challenge

“Look out!” you screamed as Erik hovered above the ground, his focus elsewhere as you enemies fired a missile in his direction.

The next thing you saw was debris falling all around you. You looked frantically around to see many of your kind lying dead. Then your mind drifted to Erik. He was nowhere in sight, and panic crept in. You scanned the battlefield, your eyes catching the sight of his helmet lying on the ground. Heart racing, you sprinted toward it, only to find him, semi-conscious, trapped under a large chunk of debris, his face covered in blood. Gritting your teeth, you used all your strength to free him, dragging him away from the battlefield, hardly making it to the base. Despite the power coursing through them, he was vulnerable now- wounded and barely alive.

“You shouldn’t have come for me” Erik rasped, his voice strained.

“You’re welcome” you replied dryly, ignoring the tightening in your chest at the sight of him in pain. He was always so invincible, so determined, strong, and seeing him like that felt wrong.

You gently lowered him onto a bed, kneeling beside him and rummaging through the supplies for bandages.

“You would have bled out” your voice softened, almost a whisper. “I- we need you. Without you we don’t stand a chance.”

Erik winced as you lifted his shirt to inspect the wounds. Blood was everywhere, and you couldn’t see the source of the bleeding. You grabbed a clean gauze, but as you were about to clean him up, his hand shot up, gripping your wrist. His eyes flicked to yours, there was something soft in them that he quickly masked “I don’t need help” he muttered.

“Fine, but you need to clean the wound. We don’t know if it’s still bleeding.” You handed him the gauze and went to fetch the antiseptic solution while he cleaned the area. He was still bleeding, though not as heavily. When you returned, he stopped you again. “I don’t need this” he protested, his eyes meeting yours.

“Don’t be stubborn. If I don’t disinfect the wound, it could get infected and lead to sepsis.” you reasoned, gently but firmly. He hesitated before giving in, allowing you to apply the antiseptic. As the solution touched his skin, he hissed in pain. You’d seen him fight, kill and get injured before, but you’ve never seen him in pain like this before. You grimaced “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. This is going to sting…a lot.”

“I can handle it.” He replied through gritted teeth, his expression stoic. “How long is this going to take?” he asked, clearly not happy or comfortable with having you around.

“You don’t let people take care of you often, do you?” you surmised, glancing up at him as you worked.

“No, and I’d like to keep it that way” he said, his tone sharp.

“Why?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.

“I don’t like letting people get close. Are you done with the interrogation?” he asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

“I’m not trying to get close” you lied. “I just don’t want you to die. You’re too important.”

He sensed there was more to your words, but he didn’t press. The room was quiet as you continued to work on him. You wanted to say more, to tell him how you felt, but fear held your tongue.

You brought some bandages and started wrapping them around his middle. “Can you sit up, please? I need to get this around” you asked, hoping he wouldn’t object.

“Is this really necessary?” he questioned and you gave him a ‘what do you think?’ look. He sighed before complying.

When you finished, you began to collect the medical supplies. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell if you have internal bleeding. I would suggest that I stay and keep an eye on you, but I know you’d rather I didn’t. So, rest and if you notice any symptoms, let me know” You were reluctant to leave but didn’t want to push him. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“You could stay…if you want. Just until the morning.” His words were hesitant,  and you could see how he was struggling to ask for help, to let you in. You nodded, giving him a faint smile before sitting down on a chair next to him.

After a while, he spoke again. “For someone taking care of others, you forgot to take care of yourself” he gestured to your hand, and when you followed his gaze, you noticed some cuts and bruises. In the heat of everything, you were too distracted- worried about him that you forgot about your own pain.

“It’s just some cuts, nothing serious.” you said with a dismissive shrug.

He scoffed. “It could still get infected. Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little disinfection.” There was a playfulness in his tone.

You rolled your eyes and cleaned your wounds. “Happy now?” you flashed him with a mock glare, forgetting who you were talking to for a moment, treating him like one of your friends.

“Very. Now I can sleep in peace.” He joked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Seeing this side of him was new to you. You wanted to hold your tongue so as not to scare him, but your impulsiveness got the better of you.

“I didn't know you were such a tease.” You shot back with a playful grin. And he seemed to have forgotten himself, his smile fading slightly.

“I didn’t want to set you off… but you have a cute smile” you blurted, surprised by your own words. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Usually, you were more calculated around him, but tonight, something was different. Maybe it was because the fear of losing him had shaken you.

“You’re awfully chatty, tonight.” he remarked.

“I tend to do that when I’m nervous” you admitted quietly.

He narrowed his eyes, curious.“What could you possibly be nervous about?”

You hesitated. “Being in your presence for this long.” 

He frowned. “You’re…scared of me?” 

“No, not scared.” You sighed. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.” 

“Try” he encouraged softly, his eyes inviting.

You took a deep breath. “It’s hard, knowing how you are around others…I thought you don’t let people in.”

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I am literally fighting this war for our kind. So that they could have a chance to live in a safe place. Everything I do is for our people, for their survival” he admitted, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I know, it’s one of the reasons I lov-” You stopped yourself, realizing how close you’d come to confessing your feelings. “It’s just sometimes it feels hard to talk to you. You have all these walls around you, and it creates this distance… I’m babbling again, I’m sorry I’m not sure what I was trying to say.”

“Thank you.” he said quietly, a soft smile appearing on his face.

“What for?” you narrowed your eyes slightly, confused.

“For taking care of me… for staying.” His voice was low, and he avoided your gaze, uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Of course. It’s nothing, really.”

“It is to me.”

—

“So… seeing as you haven’t developed any symptoms that indicate internal bleeding, I’d say you’re safe. Get some rest and you should be up and about in a couple of days.” You gave him a smile, preparing to leave.

He wanted to say something, but he was hesitant, almost afraid.

“It was nice seeing that side of you, Erik… You should try letting people in more.” You advised. “I guess this is it, then. I’ll see you around…If you need anything, you know where to find me.” You were reluctant to leave, but you knew he wanted space and you didn’t want to push him.

Before you could walk out, he spoke again.“Stay with me” he said, his voice quieter now, almost like he regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. There was no command in his tone- just a raw, hesitant plea. “Please…just for a little while longer.”

You turned back to see him, and there he was, his eyes pleading, his face soft with emotion. “Of course” you nodded, returning to his side with a quiet smile, your heart warming at the rare moment of vulnerability you shared.

Tags: @bucky-blogs

[honeygrahambitch]

Will had one quick look at his watch.

"Time for me to go, it's getting quite late." He said as he got up from the armchair. He and Hannibal ended up talking for hours even if basically his session should have ended a long time ago.

He let out a deep hiss as a sharp pain went through his right shoulder. He knew he should have avoided making any sudden move.

"What's wrong?" Hannibal asked as Will'a sudden reaction caught Hannibal's attention.

"Yesterday I bent down to pick up a part of the boat engine I am working on and I must have somehow pulled a muscle. I forgot about it." He said as he quickly masked the pain with a smile.

"That's certainly not something to ignore." Hannibal said as he got up too and inspected Will from head to toes as if he was trying to make sure nothing else was broken.

"It's fine, ibuprofen helps." Will said and immediately regretted it. The expression on Hannibal's face changed.

"May I?" He said as he took a few steps closer behind Will.

"Let me guess, besides mastering all the skills a human being can master, you are also a physiotherapist."

"No, I haven't mastered it, but I do have some knowledge."

"Sure, go ahead, doctor." Will said and tensed instantly when Hannibal's hands rested on his shoulders.

"I need you to relax. And I need you to tell me when it hurts. And don't try to hold it in like you usually do."

"Is it that hard to believe that my pain threshold is just very high- OH FUCK, HANNIBAL."

"Seems like I'm in the right spot." He commented. Sure, asking Will to take off his shirt would have made his job easier but he didn't want to overstep his boundaries. He must have been in an enormous amount of pain anyway if he complied so easily with Hannibal's request.

"You think so?" Will asked and his again as Hannibal's hands did their magic near the spot where the neck meets the shoulder.

"Is this above your pain threshold?"

"Why? Is this all you can- JESUS CHRIST."

"Your muscles are so stiff. You were saying this shoulder of yours is usually giving you troubles in general. Would you mind it if I took care of your other shoulder too?" He asked as his hands presses now around the pulled muscle, giving Will a break. "It looks like you really need a massage."

"Whatever you say. Not all of us sit tight 24 out of 24."

"It's just a habit. Of course, that means it is something you have to educate yourself." Hannibal said as his hands were now massaging both shoulders.

Will let out a deep sigh as he felt his tight muscle slowly relaxing against Hannibal's firm grip. The initial pain was gone and was slowly being replaced by something else.

Hannibal found a spot right below Will's nape, almost between the shoulder bladed and used his thumbs to press into it. Will let out a moan and tilted his head back, leaning into Hannibal's touch.

Hannibal had a satisfied smile upon his lips as his hands went back towards Will's shoulders, working their way into relieving the stiffness. When he reached that one muscle again, Will didn't make any noise this time, other than letting out a sigh.

"You should have mentioned that you have magic hands since our first session. Is this something you include in your therapy?"

"Not to everyone. Just for you, in fact." He said as his hands were now resting on Will's shoulders.

"Thanks'. It feels like this has solved all my issues to be honest." He said and laughed, which made Hannibal beam even more.

"That is good to hear." Hannibal said as he walked away from his back. "And Will, you don't need to pull a muscle next time you need a massage. You can just ask for it."

[auroreliis]

hi i don't know if your writing is in the romantic genre but imagine yandere damian wayne reacting to the reader who adopted a black cat with bright green eyes that he affectionately named damian

Romantic Yandere!Damian Wayne

Headcanons

(Aged up Damian)

(not edited or proofread)

-When you had first told Damian that you wanted a cat, he didn't really mind. He likes animals and if you also like animals, maybe you two could bond over that.

-He brought back a kitten, because he wanted to raise it with you. He wanted to see you taking care of a creature.

-You didn't specify which breed you wanted, so he brought back the first kitten he saw. It was a black cat with emerald green eyes. Something about it seemed perfect to him.

-You were so excited when he came back with a kitten. He found your reaction cute.

-"What will you name him?", he asked you, not knowing what you were going to say next.

-"I will name him...Damian!", you replied.

-"....WHAT?", his face scrunched up. He wasn't sure if he was baffled, happy or offended.

-"Why, beloved, must you name this kitten after me?", he desperately needed an answer.

-"It looks JUST like you! Obviously I'd name it after you."

-Whenever you weren't around, he would inspect the cat carefully to figure out what they had in common, but would ultimately fail in seeing the resemblance.

-The fact you named the cat after him made Damian wonder if he would get replaced by the cat. Surely not. There was no way, he thought.

-You wanted to take care of the cat alone. He was fine with it, because he was curious whether you would have any difficulties, so he watched from the sidelines as you hugged and kissed and held and carried and...

-It's been a week. You've only been spending time with the kitten. You forgot to give him his kisses in the morning and at night twice!

-Whenever you do kiss him, it is only one kiss, before you turn to the kitten and smother it with affection. He loves both animals and you, but he was starting to think that you were actually replacing him.

-He couldn't take it. He would NOT let a cat replace him. His heart ached at the thought that you liked that cat more than him.

-After he noticed that you only paid attention to the cat, he started distancing you from it. He would start taking care if it. You had almost nothing to do with the cat anymore. This wasn't exactly what you wanted, so you asked him about it.

-"Why I don't let you take care of the cat anymore? Well, you haven't raised a cat before, so you obviously don't know what you're doing. I have raised plenty of animals before and therefore know every trick in the book. But worry not, beloved, for I can tell you my secrets-" Okay....this is the part where you usually stop paying attention to him. He just goes off on a tangent every time.

-You stopped asking him about it, because he never tells you. He's too prideful to admit that he's jealous, after all.

-So instead of waiting for him to admit it, you have to call him out on it.

-The two of you were laying in bed. He was using you as a pillow and you were running your hands through his hair when you decided to ask him.

-"Why did you distance me from the cat?", you paused, carefully choosing your next words, "Are you....jealous?" His eyes widened as he shot up, his head no longer in your lap. "Why would you assume that?", he asked warily. "Well, I just assumed that was the reason. Am I right?"

-He paused at your words. He wouldn't want to lie to his beloved, but admiting that he's jealous of a kitten was not something he was ready to do.

-He had a hard time deciding what to do before your hands cupped his face. His eyes focused on your features. Your genuine smile made his heart beat quicker. He felt his cheeks heat up, so he quickly confessed what was on his mind.

-"It appears that you're not as interested in me as you are in that kitten. I believe you should pay more attention to your husband than your cat. If you are unwilling to comply, I will be the only one taking care of it." He had to sound a bit demanding in order to avoid seeming weak in front of you.

-Your chuckle caught him off guard. For a moment he thought you were laughing at him.

-"Damian, if I expressed my love for you, I would be clinging to you 24/7. So I instead pretend you're the cat whenever I give it kisses. Don't worry, nothing could ever replace you."

-That sentence took him out. You sighed in relief. Whatever you said, it was just a few words put together to avoid making him angry and it seemed to have worked.

-He's been much more needy this week. He was currently laying beside you, his head resting on your stomach. He tried to hide it, but you could feel him smiling against your body.

-"Beloved, I don't quite remember what you said when we were discussung the cat a few days ago. Would you mind reminding me?", he asked. Your lips formed a grin and you rolled your eyes before summarising it for the 3rd time this week, "I love you, Damian, I wished there were more than one Damian and I could never replace you."

-A few moments of silence passed. You could still feel him smiling against you, only his smile was wider now. He seemed to be taking in your answer, as the room was filled with a comfortable silence for a few moments.

-"...would you like a dog version of me, as well...?"

[dragonflylady77]

a slippery mishap in the shower

Rating: E (a small part of it is, but can't be too careful) | 620 words | some cute stuff

A2 - black eyes for @harringrovesummerbingo

Summary:

Billy has a black eyes and gives his niece the PG version of how he got injured

The fic on Ao3

“Uncle Billy?”

“Yes, my love?” Billy looked up from painting Roscoe’s toenails a shade called Pink-a-Doodle to see her staring at his face. He forced a smile, pretty sure what the question was gonna be.

“How did you hurt your face?” Roscoe asked, concern etched on her precious face.

Billy sighed then steeled himself when he heard footsteps entering the kitchen behind him.

“Yes, Billy, how did you end up with a black eye? Me and Roscoe would love to know.”

“Maxine…” he bit out, gritting his teeth.

“William. Please, explain to us how it happened.” Max leaned on her elbows on the breakfast bar, grinning at Billy like she didn’t already fucking have an idea.

“I was in the shower washing my hair, and got some shampoo in my eye then I slipped and banged my face on the wall. I thought I’d broken my nose, but I didn’t,” Billy says to Roscoe who puts her little hand on his arm.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Uncle Billy.”

“Thank you, princess.” Billy checked all her toes before closing the bottle of nail polish. “All done. Let it dry while I go talk to your mum, okay?”

“Yep,” the little girl replied, grabbing the remote and putting Bluey on.

Billy kissed her forehead before joining Max in the kitchen.

“Nice save, there,” Max said, handing him a cold beer.

“No thanks to you, shitbird.” Billy took a sip of the blessedly cool beverage, grateful Max had the AC going.

“So what really happened?” Max asked, leaning back against the counter.

“I thought you didn’t want any details of my, and I quote, sexcapades with Steve…”

Max made a face. “Ew, you’re right, I don’t.”

Billy cackled and grabbed a packet of chips before going back to the lounge to cuddle with his niece while they watched her favorite show. 

*****

The night before…

“Oh fuck, Billy,” Steve groaned, his fingers tightening on Billy’s hips.

“Mmmmm… Stevie… you feel… so fuck… fucking good…” Billy moaned in time with Steve’s thrusts, the hot water from Steve’s fancy shower head falling on his back. He kept his head down, and his hands on the tiled wall, hoping his knees would keep holding him up.

Steve’s cock hit that spot inside Billy that made him see stars and Billy came untouched. His cry of pleasure turned into a pained whimper when the force of his orgasm caused his elbows to give up and his face hit the shower wall.

Steve immediately pulled out and shut the water off. “Oh, shit, Billy, you alright?” 

“Fuck!” Billy leaned on his shoulder and brought a hand up, gently prodding at his nose. It hurt like a motherfucker.

Steve gently turned Billy around to check the damage. “Your nose is bleeding. Hang on.” He stepped out of the shower before Billy could say anything and passed him a wad of tissues. 

Billy pressed the tissues to his nose and let himself be pulled out of the shower stall. He stood still as Steve wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist.

“Get your sexy ass up there so I can have a proper look at you,” Steve said, nodding towards the counter and Billy complied.

Billy put his hands on Steve’s waist as the man he was quickly falling for stood between his legs. “Well, Nurse Steve, am I going to live?” he asked once Steve had finished inspecting his face.

“It appears so,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think it’s broken but you'll probably have a black eye for a week or two.”

“Speaking from experience, pretty boy?” Billy asked with a chuckle.

“You know it,” Steve replied, dropping a light kiss on the tip of Billy’s nose.

[strawbby-shortcake]

★ Lye Kisses (A Tyler Durden Oneshot) ★ [gn! reader]

Tyler had somehow convinced you to join him in his raggedy, mold-filled basement. He mentioned that he needed someone to help him test a new experiment- which you really did try to back out, but he forced you anyway. He's not the type to let you off the hook easily, or at all.

You scrunched your nose as the fumes of various and unidentifiable chemicals hit you straight in the face. Did he really just make soap, or was he trying to blow up the building? Who knows.

"Stand here, right in front of the table," Tyler said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You awkwardly complied and he put his large, transparent safety glasses on, glancing at you to make sure you stayed put.

He wiped his palms on his pants and leaned over the table, taking your hand in his.

"Tyler, what are you doing?" you asked, attempting to pry your hand away.

"Stop moving, this will only take a minute."

He glared at you with such intensity that you immediately stopped resisting. You knew that he could snap all the tiny bones in your hand if he so wished to, so you decided to not go against his "experiment," where you were the guinea pig. Not surprising, honestly.

He licked his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

You furrowed your brows and inspected his movements, "What is this?"

Tyler simply flashed a grin and held up a white jar before quickly saying:

"This is a chemical burn."

He poured the contents of the jar onto the shining wet kiss on your hand. Your brain didn't have enough time to register what was happening. It burned and seared a thousand times worse than getting splashed by boiling water or accidentally touching a hot pan.

You convulsed in pain as you writhed and thrashed your arm around. You felt the pain through your veins as if it was traveling and spreading throughout your body. Skin was bubbling and making fizzing sounds as you watched it nearly melt away.

Tyler was calm and collected, as usual. It didn't seem to phase him.

"It'll leave a scar," he explained.

You grinded your teeth together like a metal fork on glassware.

"No shit, jackass," you exhaled sharply. You didn't even know if you could inhale any oxygen into your lungs, and if you couldn't do that, you'll suffocate. Breathe.

You breathed in and imagined that you were on a grassy plain, the world was blissful, and you had no chemical burn. You breathed in and then again and again and again until you hyperventilated. Now you were lightheaded, from breathing too fast and the unending searing.

Tyler shook your arm, "Stay with the pain, don't shut this out."

You grimaced and bit the skin on your lip until it busted open and bled. Any other injury would be better than what Tyler just imposed on you. You knocked over a few items off the table in an attempt to loosen his grip.

"NO! NO! GOD!!" you screamed.

"Look at your hand! Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing!" he said sternly.

Your flesh was burning off, and you tried to picture the grassy plains once more. You needed to get away; you couldn't focus on what was in front of you.

Tyler started to slam the table with one hand and yell at you.

"COME ON!"

Tears were blurring your line of sight, snot and sweat mixed together on your face, and it was far from a pretty sight.

"I get the point, okay? Please!" you pleaded.

He shook his head in disappointment.

"It's the greatest moment in your life, man, and you are off somewhere missing it!" he said as he threw something across the room.

You wailed and squirmed in discomfort. This had to stop. HE had to stop.

"SHUT UP! Listen to me," Tyler shouted, ripping his glasses off his face and slamming them to the ground.

You were shaking in pain. Every part of your body felt like it was on fire, yet numb. You wanted to throw up. You wanted this to be over.

Tyler spoke gently, "This is not the worst thing that could happen."

You looked at him with tear-filled eyes. You were a pathetic excuse of a person.

"It isn't?" you asked in a whiny, desperate tone.

He leaned in closer to you and kissed your temple.

"Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children ... so be it!"

"OKAY I GOT IT STOP STOP!" you begged, knocking over buckets and soap bars.

Tyler held your hand firmly, "Listen! You can run water over your hand and make it worse ... or, LOOK AT ME! Or you can use vinegar to neutralize the burn."

He was serious, you knew he was. Tyler wouldn't lie about that. And you trusted him despite him shaking unwanted chemicals on your hand.

"PLEASE LET ME HAVE IT! PLEASE!"

To him, you were nothing but a test subject. To him, you were everything. To him, you were someone that needed to hit rock bottom.

"First, you have to give up," he whispered. "First you have to know, not fear, know, that someday you're gonna die. Until then? You are useless."

You spit on his face as you screamed, "You don't know how this feels!"

Tyler smirked and held up his right hand where there was a clearly visible scar in the shape of his lips. He rested his cheek on his hand and looked into your eyes- seemingly adoring how helpless you appeared.

"It's only after we lost everything that we are free to do anything."

"Okay ...," you nodded.

You concentrated on your hand, the burning and bubbling flesh, the way it smelled, the scar that would follow, the sweat dripping down the sides of your face, and most importantly, what Tyler had explained to you.

He released his tight grip on your wrist and slowly slid his hand out from underneath your own.

Standing upright, he grabbed a large jug of what you assumed to be vinegar and poured it on your hand. Instant relief. Sweet bliss. You groaned as you collapsed and held your hand close to your chest.

"Congratulations. You're one step closer to hitting the bottom," Tyler said.

You breathed heavily on the cold floor of the basement. Tyler was now kneeling by your side and turning your cheek to face him.

"And that, my dear, was a lye kiss."

He kissed the top of your head and left you lying on the ground. This was your life, and you felt like it was ending one minute at a time.

[END]

[strawurberries]

Hoi-hoi ✨ my lovely! Tis I! 🍰-anon! I had to join your event and give you some love!

Your awesome and well done getting though exam season (it's always awful), you've done brilliantly.

May I request 2 + 13 from the cherry section for either Vash or Knives, please?

Whichever one your comfortable writing for

Knives: "Obey"

Authors note: Cake anon! I missed you :( Thank you so much!! I'm so glad for exams to finally be over. I hope you enjoy this drabble :)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content

“Open your mouth,” he tugged on their hair, making them lean forward a little too far, back arched and knees red from kneeling on the ground for so long. They whined and shifted, trying to take the weight off their cold, bruised legs. He sneered and tugged harder, “did I say you could move?”

“No,” they huffed, “but it hurts.” Through half-lidded eyes they peered up, pupils dilated so thickly it seemed as if they had nothing but desire in their poor, primitive, little mind. So easily pleased and so easily handled—he couldn’t ask for anything better. . . well, perhaps, he would like them to listen like the good little doll they were supposed to be. But, on the other hand, all the fun was in making them listen. 

“I don’t care.” He raised their head up, neck stretching deliciously, revealing red hickeys and fading bruises in the shape of his hand. The sight almost made him grin—almost. He had tried to pace himself this time, taking his time as he explored and kneaded their body. They could wait for their pleasure until he was satisfied with his. “You can take it.”

They whined, a high pitched sound leaving their swollen lips. “Please~ I’m tired.” They wiggled again, chest rising and falling heavily. “Jus’ let me sit. . . my knees hurt.”

“Obey,” he roughly grabbed their chin, tilting their head as he inspected them, “and I’ll think about it.” For as wretched as humans are, this one, he thought, wasn’t a terrible sight to look at—especially when they were on their knees, begging and crying for release. Oh. . . that view? It made him feel so erratically twisted. A small idea started to form in his mind.

They hummed and leaned into his rough touch, any sensation better than the throbbing ache of their stiff body. “I will.”

He scoffed, “you know what to say.”

“I’ll obey, Master.”

He tugged them forward, nose pressed against the delicious tightness of his pants, “then Open. Your. Mouth.”

They pouted but complied, slowly separating their lips as they held eye contact. They stuck their tongue out, drool dripping down their chin. With both hands bound behind their back they had no way of cleaning themselves, having to submit to the humiliation. 

“Disgusting,” he muttered, his hand finding its way back to their hair. “You’re filthy, a whore.” The other hand went to quickly unbuckle his pants, mind finally deciding on a proper punishment for his toy’s little banter of disobedience. 

They nodded, chest starting to rise frantically as they rubbed their legs together to get any sense of friction. A buck of their hips and they were silenced, his cock shoved into their mouth quicker than they could process. Trained on what to do, his pleasure the first and only thing of importance, they hollowed their cheeks and tried their best not to gag. 

He gave a small smile at the sight of them trying their best to be a good little cocksleeve, but he wasn’t going to let this be that easy. “Stop.”

They paused and looked up, jaw already starting to ache. A questioning look in their eyes gave away every little desire that they harbored.

“I want to sit here for a while,” he tugged on their hair, “teach you a lesson about talking back.” A warm, pleasurable throb ached in the pit of his belly but that could wait. The one thing that was better than using his toy however he pleased, was watching as his plaything slowly devolved and begged to be used.

Their eyes widened and they tried to complain but gagged. The noise that echoed up their throat made him clench his jaw, pulling their hair once more. He gave a condescending smile, “that was another minute right there. Silent and still, or else I’ll make you kneel there all day.”

They shuffled and pressed their legs together at the idea of his threat.

“Revolting,” his other hand trailed down to their neck, pressing lightly on the point of skin where he could feel their pulse. “You liked that?”

They whined, tears starting to prick at the corner of their eyes.  “Another minute,” he mused, “you must really be enjoying this. Pathetic.”

[drades-lair]

12 Days of Kinkmas: Day 5 - Lingerie

Fandom: HelluvaBoss

Rating: M

Pairing(s): Criminale

Many things could be said about Crimson, he’s sadistic, cruel, cunning, sneaky, however unpredictable was the one thing that always jumped to the forefront of Alessio’s mind. Crimson always found new inventive ways to catch Ale off guard and did it often enough by this point he was certain it had become the imp’s favorite game to play. Once again Crim pulled one of these stunts when a week before Hellmas he presented Alessio with a gift, although this might seem odd it wasn’t as Crimson believe it or not gave most of his staff gifts around this time of year, usually bonuses to their paychecks. Ale graciously accepted the large flat gift box that he proceeded to delicately open only to stop short once he opened the hinged garment box lid with wide eyes. Sitting in the white box was a very deep green, velvet lingerie set with white fur adorning certain areas of it, looking from Crimson to the garment then back Ale watched as Crimson took a drag from his cigar with an expectant look. Crim didn’t say anything as he sat in his high back chair across from Ale who sat on the couch in the sitting room, he simply waited for Ale to catch on to what he was thinking.

“Ahem, it’s very…festive…sir,” Ale cleared his throat then proceeded to pull the garment from the box. The lingerie was connected on a hanger, the top was a bra with white fur around its neckline and bottom hem while the bottoms were a thong style with fur around its waistband to match the bra, finally there were a pair of socks that had white fur around the tops, all topped off by a garter belt.

“Glad you think so because I want you to wear it until Hellmas…all…the time,” Crimson reveled with a wide smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry…what…sir?” Ale retorted in shocked surprise.

“You heard me Ale, no matter what we do or where we go, you need to be wearing that and I WILL be checking,” Crimson elaborated, smirk spreading from ear to ear.

Ale took another look at the garment in his hands, heat quickly rising in his cheeks at the prospect of needing to keep it hidden underneath his clothing. Ale nodded in understanding, placed the garment back in the box it came out of then headed up to his room causing Crimson’s smirk to get even wider as he enjoyed his cigar. Alessio returned a short time later looking much the same as he had when he left however Crimson knew the shark wouldn’t turn down his request.

“Well? Let me see,” Crimson insisted.

“Yes sir,” Alessio retorted, gingerly reaching up to undo his red button-down shirt.

“Hmm, impressive,” Crimson hummed in approval at seeing the forest green colored bra.

“Would you like to see more?” Ale questioned.

“Nah, gotta save some for later,” Crimson chuckled permitting Ale to do his shirt back up. The imp was curious as to how Ale had managed to hide the lingerie so neatly underneath his clothing especially with the fur, regardless he was impressed.

Over the next week things went about as normal except for the frequent ‘inspections’ Crimson made to assure Ale was complying with his request. Crimson also made sure to switch up what portion of the lingerie he wanted to see that way Ale couldn’t pull any fast ones on him by only wearing a piece of the set. The imp found it entertaining to watch Ale having to readjust himself on various occasions due to the tight nature of the garment as well as some of the awkward placements of its pieces. During the day of Hellmas eve Crimson relentlessly teased Ale, touching his thighs under tables, rubbing his foot up the shark’s calves behind his desk, lightly running his tail along Alessio’s as they passed one another, subtle gestures that started to build the further into the evening they went. By the time midnight was approaching Ale had a deep flush across his features that he was desperately trying to hide along with the obvious bulge in the front of his pants. They were in the office with Crimson finishing up paperwork while Ale stood vigilantly beside him.

“Ale,” Crimson spoke up getting the shark’s attention.

“Yes, sir?” Ale regarded Crimson, glancing down at the imp who’d been sitting doing paperwork at his desk in the office.

“Go to my bedroom, I’ll be up in five minutes,” Crimson simply instructed, keeping his gaze on the papers he was still signing.

“Um…of course, sir,” Ale bowed his head slightly then headed out of the office perhaps at a slightly swifter pace then intended.

Crimson’s clock struck midnight five minutes later making it officially Hellmas day meaning the week of torturing Ale with the lingerie was over and now it was time for the shark’s reward. Crimson casually made his way to his bedroom on the top floor of the mansion, pulling out a key from his pocket before heading into the bedroom where Ale was indeed waiting for him. Locking the doors behind himself, Crimson turned around to regard the site of Ale sitting on the edge of the bed wearing only the lingerie set. Seeming to ignore Ale for a moment the imp headed to his dresser where he put the key in the top drawer then proceeded to shrug off his jacket which he tossed onto the high back chair in the room before returning to regard Ale.

“Come on now, stand up so I can see it in full,” Crimson crooned with a wide smirk.

“Right…” Ale trailed off in a breathy tone.

Alessio stood up from the bed, struggling to figure out what to do with his hands before finally resting them behind his back. Crimson’s eyes slowly traced every inch of Ale’s form in the lingerie set, cocking his head slightly to the side as his smirk grew wider and he twirled his finger in the air to tell Ale to spin around. Ale obeyed the subtle hint by turning around so Crimson could see the back of the outfit, shifting his hands to rest in front of himself now so he didn’t block the imp’s view. Humming in approval Crimson walked right up to Alessio, pushing on one of his hips till the shark turned back around once again moving his hands as he softly panted. Crimson’s gaze went straight to Ale’s crotch where the shark’s dicks were barely contained by the thong underwear of the lingerie, their tips sticking just above the waistband.

“Hmm, couldn’t quite contain ‘em huh?” Crimson smirked, tapping the pad of his index finger to one of Ale’s slits making the shark shiver, with a soft grunt.

“S-Sorry, sir…” Ale trailed off, struggling to keep himself composed.

“Lucky for you, I think I like it better this way,” Crimson retorted, smoothing the pad of his finger in a slow circle over the slit he’d tapped moments earlier causing Alessio to pull his bottom lip between his teeth as he furrowed his brow upwards.

“S-Sir…please…” Ale trailed off.

“Get on the bed, all fours,” Crimson instructed.

Ale swiftly obeyed the command while the imp stripped off his long-sleeved shirt followed by his pants leaving him in his boxer briefs. Ale looked like some kind of pin up model with how he posed on the bed, delighted Crimson crawled up behind Ale instantly kneading at his firm ass cheeks. Alessio dipped his chest right to the mattress allowing Crimson to shift the thongs string to the side promptly revealing Ale’s hole, rimming the ring of muscle with his thumb before tapping Ale on the hip then pointing towards the bedside table. Alessio grabbed the bottle of lube from the drawer, handing it to Crimson who instantly applied it to the shark’s hole along with coating his fingers in it. Ale inhaled sharply when Crimson inserted two fingers into him, massaging liberally along Ale’s walls as he pumped evenly making Alessio squirm. A short time later Crimson inserted a third finger with a little more lube, Ale’s cocks were leaking precum onto the sheets beneath him as he dry humped the air with breathy moans that faded into a deep groan as Crimson pressed a fourth finger into him. The shark’s body was shaking slightly with how pent up he was shifting his hips with each twisting press of Crimson’s fingers as they pressed deeper and deeper.

“Humph, You’re such a slut. You always did like having my fist up your ass,” Crimson crooned with a soft chuckle, pressing slightly harder while applying more lube.

“Ugh…fuck! Crimson…please…” Ale begged through heavy panting as the imp pressed half his hand into him.

“Just a little more…” Crimson trailed off, pressing his thumb into Ale while rolling his hand into a fist.

“Ugh…shit!” Ale cursed as Crimson’s entire hand slid inside him, the imp thrusting it a couple times before pulling partially back out then pressing back inside.

Crimson watched Ale’s cocks leak streams of precum between his legs, soaking the thong that still trapped them against the shark’s abdomen. Just as Ale was on the edge of Cumming Crimson removed his hand making Ale whimper in disapproval only to watch the imp pull out his cock a moment later, slicking it with lube before lining up with Ale’s gaping hole. The pace was instantly brutal however that was exactly what Ale needed at this moment, Crimson grabbed the bra’s back strap to brace himself as he fucked Ale as fast and hard as he could. The duo orgasmed simultaneously with Ale spilling both loads onto the bedding while Crimson filled the shark before pulling out leaving Ale spent as he collapsed onto his side with an exhausted moan with crimson flopping next to him on the bed moments later. They wanted to get cleaned up but neither had the energy to get out of the bed thus instead they decided to simply say fuck it for the evening, curling up next to one another as they drifted off.

The day after Hellmas everything seemed to go back to normal however as Crimson dealt with paperwork in his office that evening, Ale had gotten comfortable by removing his jacket as he normally did when it was just the two of them. Crimson was a little distracted by the shark causing him to drop a couple papers on the ground which Ale promptly got up to retrieve, bending over to gather them causing his shirt to ride up a bit revealing a familiar dark green waistband with white fur sticking from his pants waistband.

“You know you don’t have to wear that anymore, right?” Crimson commented upon noticing the familiar fabric.

“I know,” Ale confirmed standing up to hand the papers to Crimson.

No further words were spoken just a couple smirks that said everything that needed to be said.       

[dario-the-deer]

You Won't Get Into Heaven V

[x]

“Fuck! Fuck me, Gods above—“

Vox launched himself upright, pulled viciously from the slumber that overcame him some time before. It was still bright out; he could not have been out for more than an hour or so. The sudden disturbance had quieted now, although it was a voice familiar to the scout. His head pivoted to the right, to the left… to see Dario, gripping his face.

“Dario, what the Hel — are you alright?” Vox took to his feet, rushing to the stag’s side and taking a knee to inspect him closer. He attempted to pull the hands from Dario’s face, but couldn’t manage to force them off. “What is happening? Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine, I just… the wind caught the right angle and I got smoke in my — ouch, shit! — in my eyes. I went to rub them, and I…” The deer’s voice was muffled against his hands, now covering the majority of his face from view. “…I forgot. I’m an idiot, don’t worry about me.”

Vox stared for a moment in confusion; what could the stag have forgotten to cause this pain? A cursory glance downward told the story in an instant — a knife, with the blade embedded firmly in the earth. The man could see red begin pushing through Dario’s fingers. “Fuck, Dario, let me see. Stop- stop fighting me.” His voice was stern enough for the deer to comply, and the scout could only sigh at the sight of a decently deep laceration under his friend’s right eye. With his hand cradling the halfbreed’s face, he gently rested his thumb on the wound. “You forgot you had the kn—“

“I forgot I had the knife, yeah.” Dario’s voice conveyed annoyance and disappointment as he winced at the touch; after all these years, the last thing he wanted was to again be at the receiving end of Vox’s aid. His hands quickly returned to hide his shame, ears flicking as he closed his eyes to avoid Vox’s. “Grab me one of the cloths I packed… please. If you brought any salves, I can hold it on here.”

The scout took only a few seconds to pull one of the fraying copper cloths from Dario’s bag, gently placing it into the stag’s hand to keep him from jumping and causing further pain. He stood to check his own belongings for anything close to medical supplies. “I don’t know if I did, I thought I had asked you to.”

Vox stopped, letting the last word trail off as he turned back to Dario. He could recall the deer saying something earlier that morning. “I figure that I can use incantations for most of what we’ll need”… 

“Dario…” He looked to the halfbreed, who wasn’t looking up at him. He held the cloth against his face, his eyes intentionally diverted. Vox nearly missed the small piece of flint next to Dario’s bag. “…are you not using incantations? You can heal your wound… you can start a fire in an instant. I don’t understand why you would use flint, or salves…”

The deer continued to direct a vacant expression next to Vox’s feet. He knew the scout had figured it out, but there wasn’t anything to say. It was obvious, but he couldn’t say it out loud. He let out an exasperated yelp; Vox could see the glistening in Dario’s eyes entering the cut. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t… want to?” Vox sounded incredulous; why would he not? Dario had a gift; he had talents that the scout would give anything to possess. “Are you just being frustrating on purpose, or is there something else there that I’m missing?”

“Stop.” Dario’s voice was flat; entirely dismissive and defeated. “Just… stop. I told you I don’t want to.”

Vox was angry; he couldn’t leave it alone. The burning in his chest was a direct effect of Dario’s brooding, and he wasn’t going to let this become the status quo for however long this expedition would take. The man crossed his arms, unwilling to let the stag off easy. “And I asked you a question, Dario. What is going on with you? Do you want me to leave?”

“No, Vox. It’s not…”

“If your idea was to tell me ‘yeah I’ll let you come with me’ and then make me regret it, it’s actually working. Well done.” Vox had started to place Dario’s belongings back into his bag, quickly taking note of food now burning on the fire. He rushed to knock the metal cookware to the ground, eliciting no reaction from the deer. He was enraged. “You’re going to shut me out, is that it? Gods, Dario, that’s a new low for you.”

“You’re wrong. Please stop.”

“Am I wrong? Fucks sake, bud, enlighten me!” Vox hadn’t realized he was yelling until this moment; he couldn’t pull it back. “I refuse to talk to a brick fucking wall for the next… however long we’re stuck together. You need to grow up-“

“I’m fucking scared, Vox!” Dario’s voice cracked as he yelled, cutting off the scout. The deer shuffled back onto his feet, meeting Vox’s eyes inches away from his face. He’d dropped the cloth, allowing the wound to drain openly again. “I can’t fucking think about using incantations without remembering what it cost me.” His voice was wavering, but he continued to stare daggers into Vox’s face. “We wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for that one little detail, right? Right, Vox?”

“Dario—“

The stag pushed Vox in the chest, catching him off guard and knocking his balance off. The man stumbled backwards, making contact on a tall beam of the porch with his spine. Dario moved in on him just as quickly. “But I need to grow up, right? Yeah, fuck feeling anything! How fucking dare I, right?” The halfbreed’s voice was unrecognizably loud; a new fury that rendered Vox speechless. Through the tears searing against his cut, Dario persisted. “You… you of all people should get it! I fucking died, and now you’re wondering why I don’t want to do the one… the one fucking thing…”

“…Dario.”

Vox didn’t have to say anything more. The deer’s lip quivered as his rage subsided, leaving him to deal with the emotional fallout. The scout wanted to console him, to hold him… but this wasn’t what Dario wanted. He wanted to be human; to have a moment of vulnerability that he didn’t need rescuing from. “You’re right. It’s your call. You would know better than I, and it was insensitive of me to assume.” Vox didn’t give him pity; his words were delivered with a proper cadence he would have wanted if the roles had been reversed. “If you want help with your face, just let me know. I’ll clean this mess up.”

It was unexpected. Dario had, moments before, been ready to risk isolating himself from his best friend… but now, he felt seen. He felt validated in a way that wasn’t condescending. “Y-yeah. I’m going to go inside and clean up.” He couldn’t turn around to see Vox’s progress — the pair needed a moment apart to process. He grabbed his rucksack and slowly trudged up the steps, starting to register the pain across his face once more. Once inside, he was able to pour some water from his canteen onto the wound to clean it, using a mirror to assess the damage. Not as deep as it felt, thank goodness. The cloth he had dropped to the ground was easily cleaned with the same water, and he returned to applying pressure while staring at himself. I need to get better at being a good person.

--

He'd lost track.

The numbers all began to sound the same minutes ago. Hours ago, potentially; Dario's concept of time was irrevocably shattered by the events of the day. His eyes were shut, but he couldn't quite justify to himself what the point of it was. It was darkness either way. Despite being encased in stone, his breathing was light and spaced out to where he didn't feel that he would suffocate - at least not before he would have a chance to bring Kalmah back to the forefront to take the brunt of that blow.

The scar never fully healed, did it? The one under your eye.

If his hands had been free, Dario would have raised one to meet the exact point under his right eye that had been met with a blade a decade prior. It was never brought up, even when he was sure that Milae had taken note of it.

No.

And why is that, Hjort?

You are well aware of why.

There was an ominous additional layer of silence that stone provided - a lack of ambience that felt menacing. It was a curse in and of itself to be trapped with Kalmah; it was another to have no reprieve from it.

I can count on one hand the amount of times that using magick has worked out in my favor. Not something I want to take a chance on if I don't have to.

Only to save him, right?

Dario didn't respond. It was a fruitless taunt - a conversation the stag had with himself plenty of times. An additional party wasn't welcome to his own self-loathing. Dario shifted his focus to feeling every bit of the stone entombing his physical form, almost meditatively.

One... two... three...

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Ayla's eyes practically beamed with excitement, lightly jumping in place as she intently watched Hiccup sketch out her soon-to-be helmet. "Ohh! Yes! Just like that! It kind of reminds me of something.." She tilted her head, not quite putting her finger on the design that was similar to a sand wraith. "Eh, it looks cool either way!"

Freya, who silently remained sharpening her dagger, would glance in their direction every so often, specifically when Hiccup was busy with the sword he had just put aside. She overheard what her younger sister had said, making her turn her head at them once more. Ayla looked overjoyed just with the parchment paper alone.

Faintly rolling her eyes at the fact, although with a miniature small, Freya leisurely got up from her spot of leaning on the table, blade still in hand, as she strode over to the two who were engrossed in creating a specific helmet. As her amber eyes observed the drawing, she suppressed a smirk at the idea that crossed her mind - only improving her original plan.

Clearing her throat, she made herself known as she made it a point to make sure to stand close beside Hiccup, while purposefully keeping her eyes off of him, choosing instead to keep her focus on Ayla as she pointed to the parchment paper. "Y'know, I think the leather part, here, is a little big for your face.." She gestured for her younger sister to look at the drawing for herself when she looked at her as though she grew another hand.

Ayla hummed in thought, narrowing her eyes as she inspected it further, "Hm.. I mean, I guess you're right.." She glanced at Hiccup and Freya for a moment, pondering on why her sister was so...calm. Before she could question anything, Freya pointed at the paper again while she spoke, "Look at it while I fix it to see if it appears any better, mkay?" Without any complaints, Ayla was quick to comply as she made sure to put all of her attention on the sketch of her helmet, wanting it to be absolutely perfect, by any means.

"I'll be taking that.." Freya, with one swift movement, grabbed the pencil out of Hiccup's hand, allowing her shoulder to brush against his as she began to fix the specific part of the drawing she had mentioned, "..Thank you." She made sure not to mess with the actual helmet itself, keeping her focus solely on the leather part of the headwear with an unbothered expression, although she felt her heart beat slightly faster when she remained in a close distance to Hiccup.

Once she was finished, she finally glimpsed at him, not moving away from her spot as she languidly gave the pencil back to him, her hand ever so slightly grazing over his in the process. "There. It's fixed." Freya resisted the urge to completely smile, knowing she'll give herself away if she did so. Ayla, on the other hand, made no effort to hide the grin that was plastered on her lips, gleefully taking a hold of the parchment paper as though she were holding pure gold.

"Wow! This is so cool! Both you and Hiccup helped make this helmet, so it's definitely gonna be super awesome!" She jumped in place once more before she widened her eyes, quickly glancing around the forge with a determined glow, "Where's Gobber? I gotta go show Gobber..!" Without waiting for any further answer, she began to call out his name, scurrying off to find him. "Gobber!"

Freya shook her head at her little sister's actions, bringing up the dagger that was still in her other hand, since she used her bandaged one to draw, "I hope you weren't staring at me for a while." She pretended to carefully inspect her dagger, stretching out her arm further to get more of the sun's lighting on the blade as she asked in an overly casual manner: "So, how has your day been so far? That sword looked awfully heavy for a minute earlier.."

Hiccup grinned, happy that Ayla liked it already. "Alright, then uh, let's get started, yeah?"

Normally he'd go and gather materials, but he saw out of the corner of his eye Freya walking over, and he waited, a little curious as to what she'd do.

He looked at Ayla, a little confused, before focusing on Freya once more.

What was she doing?

His mouth dropped open slightly as she critiqued his work. Too big? "Hey, it's just a rough sketch! It's not to scale. As you know, I still need to take measurements..."

And yet, his pencil was taken from his hand.

Crossing his arms, he rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one side.

She didn't work in the forge. He did. What was this, some type of revenge for yesterday? She suddenly change her mind overnight or something? Again?

Lips pressed together, he waited for her to finish, not saying a word as their fingers brushed slightly upon the return of his pencil.

"Fixed?" He muttered, "There was nothing wrong with it in the first place..."

Gobber, upon hearing the girl call for him excitedly, turned around repeatedly, "What? What is it, lass? Where's the fire?" Chuckling to himself, he patted Grump. "Heh, it's right here!"

Hiccup, turning his attention back to Freya, shook his head, his eyes hard. "Stare at you? How could I? Between the molten longsword and sketching an apparently sub-par helmet, you're not exactly up there on my list of things to look at."

Glancing at her bandaged hand, he decided not to ask her about it, her teasing comments from yesterday were still fresh on his mind.

Arching a brow, he lifted his chin at her. "Oh, did it? So, you were staring at me? Well, it actually wasn't heavy in the slightest. Until the metal cools, you have to handle it carefully, as I'm sure you know."

Moving to inspect the longsword, he took a close look at the blade, deeming it ready to be sharpened.

The metal had already cooled down, it seemed. Quenching it definitely speeded up the process. Lifting the sword, he moved to the large sharpening stone, moving the blade rhythmically along the rock.

"You know," he glanced up at Freya briefly. "I'd ask you how your day is going, but I get the feeling you won't tell me."