#i wonder how much he knows hes doing that or not. how much control there is

[rainy-day-gracie]

wedding night (2)

pairing: General Acacius x virgin!wife!Reader

content warning(s): reader insert, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, oral (f recieving), fingering, loss of virginity, piv sex, innocence kink, self indulgent praise kink, Acacius definitely talks you through it, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, discussion of future sexual acts, AFTERCARE because aftercare is hot, general acacius is in loooooove but doesn't know it yet haha, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: So guys. I saw Gladiator II and it was awesome and Pedro Pascal is the sexiest man alive (in my heart). However, this character's name is not Marcus. I don't know who lied, but we've all been fooled. So in this sequel, the general's name is just Acacius in order to stay at least a little bit true to the actual canon.

I definitely will be writing for these two again because holy shit I made this romantic and I love them so much.

Read wedding night (1) here!

Read bloodlust here!

---

Acacius saw heaven in your eyes, a piece of salvation he never thought he might be able to grasp with his blood-stained hands.

He glanced down your body, wrapped beautifully in your white wedding gown, gold jewelry shining in warm candlelight. For a moment, he wondered Venus herself were tricking him with her immortal seduction.

But the blush of red in your cheeks, the shine of desire in your eyes, the beat of your heart in your chest....

No immortal possibly could mimic such evidence of true, temporary, and precious life.

Acacius had been with plenty women in his lifetime, had thought he understood what desire was.

I want you, you had said.

Now, he thinks he's only scratched the surface.

---

The general-- Acacius -- peered at you like a starving man at a feast, drinking you in, turning the wheels in his head of what he wanted to do first.

He grasped your hand in both of his, studying the golden band on your ring finger. Evidence of your gods-blessed union.

"I want to see you wearing nothing.... except for this," Acacius breathed, his voice low, and dreamy, like the words were slipping from him with no control.

"I'd like that very much," you said, trying to keep your hand from trembling under his touch.

"May I strip you bare, darling?" He asked, calloused fingertips fiddling with the clasp on your golden bracelet.

"Yes."

Instantly, the bracelet fell, and then the other, and then the other. Acacius' gentle touch drove you wild, methodical and sure. He stopped for a moment, glancing at the purity ring on your pinky, and smirked in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

Glancing back up to your gaze, he held your stare as he pulled the purity ring off. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from yours, letting you smell the sweet cherry wine on his breath.

"Kiss me," you mumbled.

Acacius' smirk remained. "Patience, darling."

He tucked the purity ring into a pocket of his tunic, and turned you around, so your back pressed against his chest. A sigh caught in your throat, realizing he had turned you both to face the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

"Answer me honestly," he said, trailing one of his knuckles down the exposed skin of your spine. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you shivered at his light touch. "Uh..."

"Don't you lie to me, now. It's a great sin to lie to your husband," he whispered, his teeth nipping lightly at your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I- I've touched myself. I've touched... my..."

"Your cunt?" Acacius mused.

You nodded, your chest rising heavily.

"Did you… like it? When you touched yourself?"

"N-no. I've been told it is not ladylike, to... pleasure yourself in that way."

Acacius kissed the back of your neck, making you arch into his touch. "Oh, my poor darling... there's nothing more ladylike in the world. Don't worry... I will show you how."

A full whimper escaped you at that, and Acacius undid the knots of your dress with a chuckle.

The dress fell, leaving you in only your loincloth, tied at your waist. But Acacius was looking at something else.

His eyes were transfixed on your perked breasts, his mouth slightly open as he wrapped one of his hands around the soft flesh. A high-pitched sigh left your throat, and he reached around with his other hand to take hold of the other breast.

"Do you like it when I hold you like this?" Acacius murmured, his mouth at your temple. He twitched his fingertips to pinch your nipples softly, making you close your eyes in pleasure. "Look at me."

Snapping your eyes open again, he stared you down in the mirror with a small devilish grin. He pinched your breasts again, pulling an answer from you. "Yes, Acacius."

"Good girl," he praised, your cunt throbbing at the words. He let go of your breasts, untying the cloth at your hips until you were utterly bare before him, save for your wedding ring. "Lie down on the bed, darling."

He brushed a palm over your plush backside, guiding you towards the beautiful linen bed. Plenty big for two.

You obey with a shy smile, sinking into the blankets and pillows like you were always meant to fit there. Watching from your comfortable bed, Acacius loomed over the foot, undoing buttons on his tunic, and ties on his robes.

Your lips parted slightly as he exposed the tan, scarred skin of his chest, flickering candlelight bathing him in a warm glow. He studied your expressions like a hawk, watching for any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

As he unlaced the toga and loincloth, leaving him as bare as you were, you had to keep yourself from gasping.

His cock hung heavily between his legs, not even fully aroused but still bigger than anything you had anticipated. He wrapped a hand around his manhood, smirking at your expression, but mercifully saying nothing about it.

“I am curious, my wife,” Acacius began, his voice a rumble. He pulled himself onto the marriage bed, caging you in the sheets with his arms and legs straddling. His eyes never left yours. “What did they say about me? When you learned of our union, what whispers crossed your ears?”

You licked your lips, speaking suddenly a challenge. “Um, that you w-were brave…”

Acacius leaned down, pulling one of your legs over his broad shoulders.

“…and strong…”

He mirrored the motion with your other leg, leaving your weeping cunt exposed.

“…a-and…”

Acacius paused, waiting for your answer. “And?”

“General, I shouldn’t speak ill…” you moaned, wondering if one could combust with desire.

“Tell me the truth, darling. Or you won’t get what you so eagerly want.”

“Th-they said you were cruel,” you stammered, desperately, any wall of self preservation coming down. “They said you took anything you desired, washed your hands with blood, and violence was the only language you spoke. Your rage eclipses that of Achilles, and your eyes blacken every time you raise a banner. You are of Mars himself, shedding blood like you were born to it.”

Acacius’ smirk from between your legs was wicked, and he broke your gaze for the first time since lying on the bed.

He studied your open cunt with a glazed expression, like he was lost in the pleasure of staring at your slick desire.

“If I am of Mars then you are of Venus, my darling.”

His words filled you with affection, the way his knees bent on the bed almost like he was worshiping an altar between your legs.

“So pure…” he murmured, as if the words had slipped from his lips.

Your back arched like a bow as he licked a stripe up your soaking slit, sighs escaping from your throat.

Acacius hummed with delight, fucking you on his tongue lazily, drinking your desire like nectar of the gods.

You buried your hands in his hair hesitantly, unsure of what would be pleasing to him. In all the times you eavesdropped on the married women of the court, never once had they mentioned anything like… this. Never once had they mentioned any of the overwhelming pleasure racking every limb of your body. Never once had they mentioned the lightning erupting over your skin with every brush of his calloused palm.

Acacius trailed his hands down your arched torso, cupping your breasts as his mouth traced patterns over your cunt. Your breathy moans made him chuckle into your flesh, the vibrations making you lift your hips with pleasure.

Throbbing built in your pussy, clenching around his tongue as your desire jumped at every brush of his lips.

“A-Acacius, gods…” you cried out, throwing your head back as a pinnacle raced towards you.

“Relax, my darling,” Acacius breathed, bringing one of his hands down to rest at your soft inner thigh. “I’m going to put my hands on you now.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, unsure of what it was you were begging for.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” Acacius said, and his hand on your thigh moved.

The gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your slick folds had you gasping anew, pulling lightly on the locks of his hair.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Acacius mumbled to himself. “I have half a mind to just keep you like this.”

You whined in protest, your hips chasing his touch.

“So needy for a virgin.”

You threw your head back as his finger pushed past your slick folds, reaching spots inside of yourself that you hadn’t known existed.

“Oh, so tight, my love. You truly are pure.” Acacius curved his finger, brushing against something spongy, and sensitive. A guttural moan escaped your throat, and he laughed softly. “When the pleasure peaks, do not fight it. Let it take you away, somewhere only you and I exist.”

You nodded at his command, closing your eyes as your head sunk into the linen pillows.

Unrestrained cries erupted from you as he pulled his finger out, and in, and out again, hitting that sweet spot with every push inside of your aching cunt.

When he pressed his tongue to the bud at the top of your core, he pushed a second finger deep into your slick, making you wonder if the gods truly did become man. The stretch of his fingers pricked a pain deep within, making you clench tighter around his calloused fingertips. A slight brush of his rough facial hair against your core was your ultimate undoing.

You called out his name as the pleasure rushed down your spine, into your belly, and built in your desperate cunt. He knew it, too, and continued to thrust his fingers deep inside with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue licked against your clit with hunger, tipping you over the edge.

Cries escaped your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every muscle in your body going taut as the desire took over. Your cunt clenched tightly, chasing his fingers, and your spire curved with tension as the wave of lust claimed you.

Acacius watched with a lazy smile as your core squeezed with your orgasm, evidence of your desire dripping off his lips.

“Acacius… Acacius…” you breathed as the climax subsided, your body relaxing into the bed once more.

“How do you feel, darling?” Acacius asked, crawling back up to press his nose against yours. His brown eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with adoration.

In place of an answer, you buried your hands in his curly, soft hair, pressing his lips to yours. He responded instantly, capturing your mouth with the passion of love and war.

His tongue pushed against yours, pure want seeping from every brush of his lips against yours. You gasped as his hands cupped your hips gently, like he was making sure you were a solid thing he could hold in his hands. Like he was worried you might slip through his fingers.

“I want more,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded with his eyes closed, like he was dreaming.

“It will hurt for a moment, but I will be gentle with you,” Acacius breathed, trailing light kisses against your throat. “Tell me when there is pain, or if you wish to stop.”

You nodded against his temple, and he pulled his lips back instantly.

“Say you want me, darling. Say you will tell me to stop if you wish.”

The intensity in those brown eyes, the desperation, had you squirming with desire once again.

You held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb against his rough stubble, studying him.

Acacius' nose was utterly Roman, looking like it had possibly been broken once or twice. Every mark on him was evidence of a man that had seen the Underworld and walked away, but not without a few scars to show for it. Though he had been nothing but gentle with you, there was no doubt he could live up to his reputation of bloodletting.

Still, you held him close.

"I want you, Acacius. I will tell you to stop if I wish to." There was no hesitation, no tremor in your voice.

He sighed in relief, reaching down to his hard cock and bringing it between your legs. You whined at the sensitive touch, and he grunted at the slickness of your folds.

"So wet for me, darling, so perfect," he moaned in your ear, guiding the soft flesh of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Tentatively, he rubbed his cock up and down your core, getting you accustomed to the blunt feeling. You whined breathlessly, near begging for him to fuck you already.

"Patience, darling. I need to go slow to not hurt you," he mumbled.

The blunt head of his cock pushed past your sensitive folds, and you dug your nails into the strong muscles of his back.

Acacius let out a guttural groan into the heated skin of your neck. "So wet, and tight."

You called his name like a prayer, your head tossed back in pain and pleasure. Over and over again, you called his name.

"A little more, easy, easy..." Acacius moaned, pushing further into your virgin cunt.

You cried out in pinching desire. "S-so much, Acacius..."

"I know, darling. We're halfway there."

You held tight to him, his rough hands on your soft skin distracting you from the stretch of your cunt around his cock. "H-halfway?"

Acacius chuckled, holding still inside of you to let you adjust. "You feel... divine. So, so perfect, my sweet wife."

A high pitched moan escaped you as he pulled back slightly, kissing your neck as he pushed farther in. You clenched around him, and his lips on your clammy skin sent a fresh wave of lust panging though you.

But Acacius stopped, and you gasped in pain again, as if he had hit a barrier in your core he couldn't push past. You knew he could bottom out if he so wanted, but not without tearing you deeply.

Instead of pushing forward, he stayed where he was inside of you, tracing his nose along the curve of your jaw.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear his words.

"Do you want to know what I want, darling?"

You were too breathless to answer.

Acacius continued. "I want to fuck you so well that all of Rome hears you calling my name. I want to mark you with my mouth so you may look in the mirror and think only of me. I want fall to my knees and thank the gods that gave you to me. But for now, my darling... I want you to come on my cock with your most divine cunt."

Your cunt, as if on command, fluttered, and you moaned as he was able to fill you to the hilt without a pinch of discomfort.

"Oh, yes," Acacius whispered, his tongue darting out along your pulse point. You cried out in pleasure as he shifted inside of you, holding tight to his strong back.

"You... are... perfect, darling," he panted, thrusting slowly, in and out, in and out. "So warm, and tight..."

"Acacius, please..."

"Please... what?" Acacius teased, biting your bottom lip slightly as he pushed back into you.

"More... more," you said, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Acacius responded in kind, chuckling at your desperation. "As my lady commands."

His thrusts into your aching cunt deepened, becoming harder as you grew needy for his strength. You tossed your head back with a high-pitched cry when he was able to hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside of you, and the reaction made him even more ravenous for you.

"Oh, you take my cock so well," Acacius praised, the words making your cunt clench around him. "So, so good, my darling."

As if he knew what you needed before you did, he pulled his chest away from yours, sitting up on his knees while thrusting into you. He looped his wide arms underneath your spread legs, angling you upwards on his thighs and pulling your hips up off of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you arched your back off the sheets with a shriek of delight.

"Acacius, Acacius," you cried out, the new angle sending him deep into your core, hitting spots you hadn't even known existed.

"That's it, say my name," Acacius said with a smirk. "Say my name when I fuck you, tell all of Rome who is making you feel this good."

You couldn't stop, the falling of his name from your lips dripping like sweet honey. All you could feel was the sweat of his skin against yours, the calloused of his hands as they gripped your soft thighs closely, and the depths of your core his cock was able to reach.

"You're going to cum for me," Acacius ordered, his words coming out in pants of breath. "You're going to cum for me, because you're a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you? Letting me fuck her virgin cunt so nicely, such a good girl..."

At his praise, your cunt tightened around his cock, back arching like a bow. As you came, he pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, the pressure making your high all the more intense. You cried out his name, over and over again, the two of you becoming the only people in the world as the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Acacius' thrusts into your aching core sped, became less focused, and you knew he was losing control himself as you came apart underneath him. Your name fell from his lips as he pressed his hand further into the spot below your belly, where his cock seemed to bulge into his palm as your cunt pulsed around him.

"Such a good girl, such a good wife," he moaned. Only when your core could only twitch in response to his strong thrusts did he slow, leaning back over you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

A warmth pooled within you, evidence of his pleasure. You didn't know if you'd ever felt such an intimate connection with anyone as you did with him, his kiss burning a brand into your heart as the heat of passion faded.

Acacius pulled away after a moment, breathing heavily against your throat. "Hold still a moment," he warned. His palms pressed against your hips, his cock sliding from you with a slight sting. You followed his advice, your legs feeling weak and shaky.

You studied him as he crossed the bedchamber to the washroom, his broad back dimpling with the movement. Returning with a clean cloth and a faint smile on his lips, the dimple in his cheek made your heart swell as he saw your sprawled body on his massive bed.

"Feeling comfortable?" Acacius asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

You nod, watching him as he crossed over to you, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he carefully wiped your messy core.

Breaking from your lips for a moment, he pressed his nose against yours, and you cherished the gentle, intimate gesture.

"Shall I call the servants for a hot bath?" Acacius mumbled, tossing the cloth aside.

"A hot bath sounds divine, but only if we may take one together," you reply, slightly giddy.

Acacius furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is making you laugh, my darling?"

You kissed him again, long and slow. Time stood still, and it was as if you could physically feel the bond forging between the two of you, forging in a slow burn of a crackling fire. It was warm, and easy, and comforting.

You broke away, studying him in his eyes. "You are simply... not what I expected."

Acacius smiled, that damn dimple curving in his cheek.

The most feared general on the continent.

Your husband.

Acacius kissed your forehead. "You, my darling, are everything I've been dreaming of."

---

taglist (people that asked to be tagged in part 2): @marianastudiesart @joeldjarin @fallout-girl219 @shantellorraine @lanadelslay69-420 @pedrofan

my request box is open! would love to hear y'all ideas for Joel, Acacius, Javier, or Oberyn :)

[kismetlotts]

Omg omg hii I have this super request of Price slipping into his beautiful neighbour’s house, (just the way the man was so good at staying in the shadows when he entered Shepherd’s pffice) slipping something funny into the water she’s supposed to drink after a workout... She passes out in a matter of minutes after sitting down and by the time she wakes up, she’s so sore and sticky yet can’t even seem to remember why... or falling asleep at all!

Fucking love this idea! Got a little carried away though and made Price a bit of a stalker- but I hope you don’t mind!

cw: noncon, rape, use of drugs (spiking), Price is a little bit of a stalker, mentions of hand jobs, fingering, self tasting, oral sex on fem, being ejaculated on, watching through window, mentions of stealing panties, Price has a little obsession with the reader, mentions of spit, a lot of sweat, use of degrading name e.g 'bitch', Price can't see what he is doing is wrong, mentions of exercise, rough sex, a lot of manhandling, neighbour next door trope

"Need any help with those?" Was what started it all off. Price was in the midst of bringing in groceries after being away for so long due to work in the military. The boot of his car raised as bags of necessities- food, beer, what not- were pretty much trickling out and onto the pavement.

He lived in a local quiet area of town, houses decently sized and kept tidy. Lawns frequently mowed, flowers always grown and planted- such a shame how little sunshine England got because it would look like something out of a movie. John was also acquainted well with a lot of the elderly folk around there, most of them having lived their way before he even moved in.

It was perfect for him, given he was usually a bit of a grumpy bastard, living alone in a neighbourhood like that was a breath of fresh air. His neighbours understood him and kept to themselves but not in the distance unwelcoming way, the respecting kid of way. It made him feel secure- snug like a childhood blanket; warm, safe and familiar.

So it’s not difficult to envision the look on his face when he turned around, catching you exiting the house next door. Body in them tight gym shorts and shirt to match as you practically ran over to him. Fucking hell, what had he missed? He had to blink twice; once to register was going on and a second time to look away because your body was enchanting. Forcefully having to drag his eyes away from the plump curves of your ass- the shape of your thighs- your breasts.

Passing you one of the bags from the car, carrying three himself because- of course he had to show off his own strength and muscle to you. A jolt of arousal electrocuting his body from your skin brushing his hand; cock swelling up erratically and his eyebrows furrowed. Johns head immediately leaping to imagine scenarios with them soft fingers of yours.

Finger tips only just touching as your hand spread around the base of his girthy cock, stroking him slowly, looking into his eyes as you bite your lip nervously, wondering if you were doing a good enough job- if you were pleasing him right. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as the pulse in his cock died down. He couldn't let himself get distracted so easily, come on John, what has gotten into you?

As you helped him unload, you explained how you'd moved in next door a couple months ago, not realising anyone actually lived in his house. Rambling on about how nice all the neighbours seem and how easy it was to settle down. How safe this side of town was but honestly, John didn't care one bit.

He wasn't listening to the words despite him deceiving you with his humming and nodding. He was listening to the sound of your voice instead. The sickeningly sweet tone chirping into his ear so delicately it made his hands tremble. Fingers desperate to reach out and touch you like a child with fire.

He knows it will burn, he knows he cant but its just so pretty- he was losing fucking control, who the hell were you?

He'd imagine all the noises you'd make with him above you, finger fucking you until your words were all broken and tearful. Ripping out of your cunt harshly before forcing the fingers into your mouth. Shuddering at the feel of your tongue tracing laps around them, tasting yourself, doing exactly what he guides you to do.

"Do you taste good?" He'd ask you slowly, breath hitting your face from how close the distance between you is. Voice thick with husk and lust because he couldn't let you realise the power you have over him. How weak you get him at the knees- you could have him a begging mess if you asked.

A scarred yet smooth large hand grabbing you by the cheeks, squishing your adorable face so hard your lips shine with spit. Holding you like that and watching your skin pale when he lets go. Not bothering to actually hear your reply before going down and tasting you for himself.

From such short little interaction, a sick fascination had blossomed inside him. Wrapped in his head, tied in his chest and sunken deep in his stomach- it was more an obsession than a little crush. He'd watch you through his window as you pottered around in your kitchen oblivious to his gaze- it wasn't stalking to watch you all the time, he was just watching your back.

If being in the military taught him one thing it was to be cautious of your surroundings, because you never know what might happen - who could be lurking over you. So all he was doing was looking after you, really.

He knew your routine off by heart, when you would shower, when you would sleep, eat- work: He knew it better than you did yourself. He also knew things about you that you didn't even know. Like how many pairs of underwear you go through in a week.

His large muscular arm counting them as he shuffled through your wash basket being sure to snatch one for himself later, as you hummed innocently in the shower: unaware to his presence. And why your phone kept unplugging during the night when you slept, watching your angry face through the glass as you wake up and curse yourself out because you swore you plugged it in and now you have to wait an extra 20 minutes for your phone to charge up before going for your morning jog.

An extra 20 minutes of pacing in front of your window in your tight gym clothes, getting a few more stretches in because why not- you have the time.

Oh and you definitely didn't know about the faulty lock on your back door, and how when you jiggle it a bit the fucker just opens up with ease. How little effort it was to slip inside and glide around your home, the smell of you saturated into the sofa, the bed, the walls, precum dribbling into the fabric of his boxers. Your house really was yours, everything down to the last detail was just you.

He felt like he couldn't breathe yet breathing heavily was all he could bring himself to do. Lingering in the shadows as his fingers trailed along the kitchen counters, fist wrapping around the pink plastic of your water bottle. Silly silly little girl, you shouldn't have left it home because now he can’t stop himself.

Stood behind your front door, black hoodie blending him in as you stepped inside, panting like a dog- a bitch- from your run. Hair drenched in sweat that trickled down your forehead and neck making your skin look aureate- glowing.

He bit back the moan watching how carelessly and greedily you guzzled down your bottle of water. Oblivious to the fact that your friendly neighbour John had tampered with it, oblivious to the fact he was right fucking there, waiting patiently for the side effects to kick in.

Your back hitting the sofa as your panting settled down, eyes drooping a little and without your knowledge or realisation you were out cold. Knocked out- head flopping back and eyes rolled. Price chuckled, walking to the back of the couch, hand hitting your head before shoving your limp body hard, forward and onto the glass coffee table.

"Bless you, love. Didn't even know I was here, did ya?" He asked you loudly, he wanted to scream it at you and if he didn't care so much about the neighbours hearing him shout, he would've. Sadly he had to be cautious.

He had to make sure that you were fully unaware of everything he was going to do to you, before and after and he wasn't going to risk it- someone was bound to check up on you after hearing shouting even if it’s just a quick question while taking the rubbish out.

His fingers entwined in your hair as he slowly crouched down beside you. Yanking you back up, flipping and positioning your body over on the table like a mannequin. The zipper of his hoodie echoing in the silence of the house and fuck, he was desperate for you.

Undressing his top half and throwing the clothes on the settee before spreading your legs wide open. Wasting no time as he ripped a fat hole in your leggings, pushing your panties to the side through the broken fabric.

Johns mouth watered as his eyes locked on your pussy, so hot and steaming with sweat but he couldn't care less- he had been wanting you for the past month despite it feeling an eternity. He really couldn't give a shit if you were clean or sweaty- shaved or not he was fucking having you right here, and right now.

His blue eyes indulged in your peaceful expression, eyelashes pressed against your puffy cheeks while his tongue licked a long aching strip up from your entrance. Throat closed dry with thirst and his body was shaking with adrenaline, holding back and restraining himself from making a mess of your pussy. Letting himself sink into you and your flavour instead; not like it was going to last long or anything.

Less than one minute in and he was eating you, spitting on you, slapping your tiny sensitive clit. Sucking on you, biting you and getting your juices all caught inside his beard, he swore blind days went by with how long he was down there. Taking his precious time and allowing himself to relax and enjoy your taste but being cautious with his actions because he didn’t want to hurt you.

He didn't want you to feel as if you'd been raped or something horrible. He didn't want you to wake up and feel so sore and achy that you panic someone came in and fucked with you. John wasn't like that- no! He just needed a favour from you and went by it in a way that doesn't cause such a hassle. Saving himself from potential rejection and awkwardness between you too, it was beneficial. He was just borrowing you.

That was neighbours do, yeah? They help each other.

His cock would ram in you so deep his eyes stung from the pleasure he felt. So wet and tight and just for him. Slowly losing touch with the sensible side of him as he picked the pace up. He shouldn't be going that hard, you were definitely going to feel something is off. Going to feel how deep he was inside you when you wake up all lost and confused.

Your clit was going to throb and sting with how much Johns tongue had flicked, sucked and bit it. The more his brain let him know of his mistakes the more he thought, 'fuck it' and let himself be rough. Dragging and moving you around like his personal little sex doll- exactly what you fucking were.

Holding your legs up in the air then switching to your body pressed against his chest, hands squeezing your hips as he pretends your riding him.

"Oh fuck, honey just look at the sight of you. Why don't you come live with me? Why don't you come stay with me next door and I’ll do all this every night." Teeth sinking into your earlobe as his question was left unanswered- he wasn't expecting a response at all but it was an excuse to fuck you harder.

An excuse to rip off your shirt and play with your breasts because you weren’t replying or him and instead was making him angry. Leaving him with no choice but to tease your nipples until he’s about to cum.

Slamming you back down on the table before fisting his cock towering above you. The swollen and desperate tip so red and dripping with precum until finally he grunted and shut his eyes. Showering you in his hot semen watching how the white spurts out and paints your body like his personal canvas.

Palms eagerly massaging the warm cum into your flesh- your stomach, your chest, up on and over neck while he regains his breath and strength. Scooping you up into his arms to carry you up your stairs and into bed, removing everything and tucking you into the sheets- naked. His heart exploded seeing how solemn and innocent you looked all cuddles up, bending down over you to kiss your forehead before leaving.

Discarding the clothes and grabbing his hoodie, making sure to wipe and clean up any juices or evidence of the two of you before leaving out the back and returning home to rest. Missing your soft little murmur as you stirred awake in your bed, confused on how you'd gotten there and where your clothes had disappeared too.

Wincing from the sores on your legs and body and the sticky feeling everywhere as you sat up in bed. A yawn falling from your lips but- oh well.

Must've been from working out earlier.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC 18+: how to walk ‘em like a dog 🦮🎀🐆

“Back to the kitty, ‘cus she kinda pretty

Couldn’t stop lookin’ at her ti-ti-ti— face!

Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog

Little did she know, I’m a nasty dog.”

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Pussy Talk by City Girls ft. Doja Cat

Kehlani by Jordan Adetunji

The Zone by The Weeknd

Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Five of Swords, Make An Altar, Chanting, Use Your Hands, Camera, Mirror, & The Grim Reaper

Hey pile,1 😝. The person who wishes for you to walk them like a dog admires you so much, they might even over romanticize you in their head, to them, you fulfill their fantasies. They think about you in different positions and wonder how your hands feel on them 😮‍💨. They get hard/wet just by the thought of you alone. I believe you show that to this person as well, you could tease them often or like to give them a show whenever you walk past them. “P*ssy talented it do cartwheels and he pay cus he like how that part feels, p*ssy give speeches, heart felt, say the p*ssy really talk like it Garfield (it do)” 😅 oh god, I think this person is obsessed with the sounds your bodies make during sex, they are heavily infatuated with you. “I like the way your body is, is that too obvious? Okay I like your confidence, oh that’s what good karma, like kehlani is, bad just like kehlani is.” This person desires to be fair in the bedroom, they want to cum with you, pile 1. This might be someone you’ve known since childhood, your first love, or an ex that you met when you were young. You could be playful and mischievous in the bedroom, but also like to take the lead. Switch vibes are prominent in this pile. You and your person like to give and take. You could be a brat and they want to be your brat tamer. If you follow each other, this person has been watching your stories on social media, I feel like you post risqué photos for them and wonder if it’s working 👀 trust me it has, cus they have been getting it off to your pictures in secret 🤫… This person definitely worships your body and your beauty.

Full reading on my patreon

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Goodies by Ciara ft. Petey Pablo

Slumber Party by Ashnikko ft. Princess Nokia

Bimbo Doll by Tila Tsoli ft. BJ Lips

King of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Cups, Watch A Movie, Massage, Rest, Talking, Keys on a Ring, & Love Call

I love how hyper feminine my pile 2 is 🎀! You guys are so popular and have so many options in your dating life. People think that you are so cute but in a tempting way. Do you dress y2k, mcbling, or coquette? Whatever your style might be, people think it looks so hot on you. You could attract both girls and guys with your looks, especially older guys. “You may look at me and think that I’m just a young girl but I’m not just a young girl. Baby this is what I’m lookin for - sexy, independent, gotta spend it type for gettin his dough. I’m not being too dramatic that’s just how I gotta have it. I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it.” You know your worth and don’t settle for less, despite your sweet appearance you know you give people a run for their money. People even wish to give you their money. Are you a sugar baby? If not, you should become one, you’d be very successful. I have a feeling you have people wrapped around your pretty finger. Others desire to spoil you with gifts and money. Dare I say I see this pile being with both a woman and a man (maybe even at the same time?)👀. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress up in my house, I gave your girlfriend c*nnilingus on my couch. She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies that excite me. I think she really likes me, ask politely, can I - woo ooh ooh (slumber party).” Two people wish to initate things with you but you have total control over the situation. Your features really entice people, you could have doe eyes, big lips, nice boobs, and a cute butt. When you talk, this person(s) doesn’t know where to focus their eyes, they get so nervous around you and have to control themselves from getting too intense with the conversation. They also really wish to hear you dirty talk to them. Your voice is a a major turn on to this peoples, it’s giving phone sex operator level of skill lol. As I was typing “hear”, I accidentally spelled “head” so they definitely want to see your lips on their d*ck/p*ssy as well😚.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Get On Your Knees by Nicki Minaj ft. Ariana Grande

Distraction by Kehlani

Rocket by Beyoncé

Eight of Pentacles, Seven of Wands (reversed), Nine of Cups, Sex, Abundance Planning, Deep Breathing, The Sword and The Rose, Not Today, & Clock

PHEW 😮‍💨 don’t hurt em now, pile 3. This is my dominant pile. You guys know how to take charge in the bedroom. This person wants to be at your mercy. I’m talking having you on top and riding them as hard as you can or them getting on their knees to beg at your feet. This person actually wants to be walked like a dog lol. They are very submissive and like pain. I feel like you know this as well 😂! You have so much control over them and they want you to know you run this relationship. I feel you and this person are already together or have a thing going on, if not I see things progressing sexually pretty fast. This might be a tinder date situation. “Get on your knees, get on your knees, baby just get on your knees. Say pretty please, pretty please, pretty please. Baby just say pretty please” you could like to use this person as a stress reliever. The sex would be slow and intense. “Do me a favor, pick me up, take me out later. Don't worry about no paper cus I got much stacked up for nights like this” I see that you’re a hard working person and don’t have time to be in a committed relationship but value trust, loyalty, and honesty. This person provides that safe space for you and allows you to express your flaws in peace. You don’t have to be perfect and fake a smile like you usually have to do in professional settings. I see that this person really wishes to be with you in a romantic way but doesn’t want to rush or force things on you if they know you have other responsibilities to tend to. It’s reminding me of Nani and David from Lilo & Stitch. David had a huge crush on Nani but due to her focusing on needing to be there for Lilo and being a provider, she didn’t have time to acknowledge his feelings until later she was settled in her career. I see that you are grateful towards this person and attracted to their emotional intelligence.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

Blah Blah Blah by Kesha ft. 3OH!3

Please me by Cardi B ft. Bruno Mars

Dip It Low by Christina Milian

The Chariot, Seven of Swords, Ten of Wands, Pleasure, Flow Like Water, Hydrate, Addiction, Date, & The Phoenix

Heyyy, pile 4 😉. I see that this person got you down bad lol but not to worry since the feeling is mutual. I feel that you came on to this person before they even did. You could be an extrovert while this person is an introvert. They’re very reserved and are careful with how they express themselves. You might flirt with this person while they’re on the job or when they’re focusing in class. They like to pretend they are disinterested in your advances to see how much you’re willing to keep going after them. It could stroke their ego a little bit knowing someone as “cute” as you likes them (I heard an emphasis on the word “cute”). You could be feeling confused on whether or not they like you back and it results in you feeling pouty about the situation. This connection could be relatively new but this person is wanting to explore how things go! This person could want to tease you a lot or perhaps even degrade 🫠. They might like to talk shit playfully just to get under your skin. For some reason I feel like this person likes to make you mad 💀 they can be really annoying. They like when you tell them to shut up or put them in their place. If you yelled at them even and kissed this person the next, they would live for that shit. They’re kinda toxic honestly 😂. “blah, bl-bl-blah, blah, blah. Coming out'cha mouth with'cha blah, blah, blah. Zip your lip like a padlock (Yeah) and meet me in the back with the Jack at the jukebox (back, back). I don't really care where you live at, just turn around, boy, let me hit that. Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat just show me where your d*ck’s at”. This person really enjoys your banter and despite being so hard on you they really only have a soft spot for you, I heard “that’s my baby” 🥹☺️. Pile 4, you must have a great ass as well 🍑. This person looks at your physique when you’re not looking, they really want to know what it feels like to have your body pressed against them. “Please me, baby. Turn around and just tease me, baby. You know what I want and what I need, baby. (Let me hear you say) Please” this person’s energy is honestly all over the place 💀 they’re just so horny lol. This person wants you *london accent* BAD, man.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Lolly by Maejor ft. Justin Bieber & Juicy J

Walk Like This by FLO

Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland

Seven of Pentacles, Page of Cups, The Star (reversed), Plan A Meal, Nourish Your Temple, Music, Love, Passion, & Photograph

Ooo wee, pile 5🫣🤭, when I say this person has a biiiiig 📦 for you. This person has very masculine energy, almost giving fuckboy/frat guy vibes 😂. They could be very fit and muscular with a nice smile, they know they’re fine and attract a lot of people towards them. There could be a height difference between you and this person. Their attraction to you is because of the stereotypical phrase “idk you’re just different”. They don’t have the exact reasons why they’re into you but they do like your creativity, mannerisms, and shy demeanor. This person could have a corruption kink 💀. They could want to see you break out of that good girl / good boy routine and try something new and risky. You and this person know of each other but don’t seem to be very close, perhaps they are in your friend circle or you guys are just acquaintances. They often have dirty thoughts of you giving them head and seeing how much you can take of them. This person could wine and dine you first before wanting to go down on you. “Order what you want, girl, it ain't no problem. I'ma tell the waitress that my baby need a bottle. Order what you want, said it ain't no problem. Got a piece of candy and it's all for you. She say she love my lolly. She wanna make it pop. She say she love my lolly. She wanna kiss the top”. They like sex that’s really rough and nasty, if it’s not messy and loud they’re not into it 😭. I see that they’re into positions like 69, cowgirl, and missionary. They’re big on seeing your face during sex, they get really cheeky about the good work they’re doing and would want to pin your hands down so you can beg for more. I do see jewelry and this person wearing chains🙂‍↔️. This person would be more so walking you like a dog but you have them on a leash in the sense you keep them coming back. They could have you walking funny after you’re done 🤭 you might be really sore the next day as well. “There's a reason I walk like this (I walk). My baby, he be lovin' on this (Oh yeah). When he do it, he be workin' that shit (Oh yeah) And every night he got me wantin' more of it”. You might feel confident and pleased after having sex with this person and can feel a sense of relief.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Play With It by Tommy Genesis

Who Am I (What's My Name?) by Snoop Dogg

Girls Need Love by Summer Walker

The Fool (reversed), The Sun, Five of Cups (reversed), Write a Gratitude List, Take a Walk, Clean Your Space, Family, Not Enough, Ax, & Healing Heart

Pile 6, you still not over your ex, huh 😔? It’s ok, no judgment here, baby 🫶. I see you and your ex still have an attachment together, things might be on and off or you don’t really know where the direction of this relationship is headed towards. I see that you are a very caring person and because of miscommunication, you and this person seem to never be on the right foot. It’s possible some of you who picked this pile have a baby with this person or will get pregnant (please use protection if this isn’t what you want!). I see a lot of fertility going on in this pile, you and this person could prefer to make love or have sex as if you’re making a baby lol. This person could have a breeding kink? They get turned on by the idea of you being pregnant with their child. Whenever you wear sundresses that is also sexy to them. I feel like your body is so tea, pile 6. Either you’re really thick and curvy or your body is just gorgeous to people, especially your sp. This person fantasizes about doing it raw while you touch yourself in front of them. “Play wit' the p*ssy, wanna play wit' the p*ssy. Come get a hooky, baby, come get a hooky. I wanna fuck you, baby, I wanna fuck you. If we not fuckin', baby, come get it poppin'”. This person is scared to fully pursue because you seem to be in a place of healing in your life and doesn’t want to add to that. There is another person that is new coming who also wishes to take your ex’s spot 👀 Oop! I feel like this will be their friend who will make passes at you and this will make your sp really jealous lol. In the bedroom, their jealousy could make them more dominant and want to take control. There is a lot about wanting to hear you moan or scream their name. They can be very vocal too i'm getting a lot about hissing so maybe they hiss whenever you get their spot? PHEW- They could want to fuck you doggy style while they spank your ass. “She want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what? He is I and I am him. Slim with the tilted brim, what's my motherfuckin' name? Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb). Snoop Doggy Dogg Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)” they can be really boastful after sex if they get you to cum and you can get annoyed by this lol. You might tell your person “it wasn’t even allat🙄” and they’ll tease you cus they know it was 😋. I see this person providing you with aftercare and massaging your back and feet. Even though you might not be together at the moment, this person really values you as a person and knows their place.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher

JT Coming by JT

Huff n Puff by Red Velvet

Page of Swords, Knight of Wands (reversed), The Emperor, Be Still, Energy Work, Sync with the Moon, The Snake, Lightning, & Separation

Alright this is giving my queer pile 🥰, very androgynous energy all around here 😎. Regardless of what your gender might be, both you and this person are independent and like to have things a certain way. You could have met them through a dating app or while on a date with another person (Crazy work but ok 😂). I'm getting maybe someone is a bartender or works at some place where they have to socialize a lot. You and your sp are very flirtatious towards the other but someone gets super shy when it comes to compliments. This is for a select few of you but some of you might be transgender? Perhaps you are a trans man/woman and this person is cisgender. You might be nervous to be too flirty with them in case they might reject you but honestly i'm getting go for it baby, life is too short to be worrying about those things (just remember to be safe is all 🫶🏽). This person will be very polite and respectful towards you so just allow yourself to unwind when you go out with this person. "I ain't gotta do a lot of flexing (Uh-huh). Shorty, you already know what it is. Ha, and girl, tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin', yeah. Can't nobody do your body like this." They could be very forward and direct when it comes to communication they do not like beating around the bush, i'm getting someone likes to man spread a lot or you will notice that they sit with their legs open. Laaaawd when I tell you this person has a big 🍆 or owns one, they will have that shit ready for you LOLLL. This person gives big dick energy they're just very secure with themselves and how they carry on. You might feel insecure about some things and ask them "does this bother you?" or "do you find this attractive?" and they're gonna be like "yah" to everything. THEY MIGHT NOT EVEN GIVE A VERBAL RESPONSE TBH they just might nod their head or whatever and look at you like "is we fuckin' or what 😏🎶?". To them, these questions don't make sense like for example they would think "why wouldn't I like hip dips?" or "facial harmony? what the hell does that even mean? I don't care about that, I care about you." So if you are someone who compares themselves to people on the internet truuuust when I say this person is not chronically online to understand any of that shit. They like what they see and they just want to give it to you and more. "It's been a while since you gave, ho, it's time to give it up (Give it up). Like a bitch with a fresh BBL, you can't sit with us (Nah). Fine motherfucker, white boys say I rock (Hah). I gotta stay protected 'cause y'all stay on my c*ck. My new whip beautiful, I call it p*ssy whip. It was a gift, my nigga friends say he p*ssy whipped." Your sp might be older as well or very mature for their age.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

SHY GUY by Tinashe

Good For You by Selena Gomez ft. A$ap Rocky

Unfold by Alina Baraz

Seven of Swords, Five of Pentacles, The Star, Journal, Look for Fairies, Movement, Hammer, The Dragonfly, & Self-Indulgence

Aww this is my soft pile 🛌. I see that you guys are very spiritual and dreamy. You might fantasize a lot about this person. For some of you, you might even be manifesting them. I see that the feelings you have towards this person are very tender and loving. I see that this person is very flighty and doesn’t wish to have such a big commitment. This person you are interested could have ghosted you or there’s something wrong with your communication. Maybe you and this person have different time zones or a conflict of schedule. There’s something about the person not being there for you. “Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline (La, la, la, la). Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline. Shy guy (Guy, guy, guy, guy, guy)” I believe you are being too kind to this person and need to detach and allow them to chase you. Focusing on yourself and seeing other people will allow this person to show up for you and be the person that you need. Now is the time for you to be self indulgent and take care of yourself. Some of you should practice healing in the bedroom and should learn about what makes you feel good sexually. Perhaps exploring with new partners will help you find new things that provide pleasure. I see that you are very submissive or lean towards more vanilla. Try to vocalize what makes you feel good to your partner and be more assertive. Your energy reminds me of Jhené Aiko’s song “P*$$y Fairy”, very sensual but delicate. To this person if you were to show them your new found confidence, they will crumble to their knees and will feel stunned. They might ask you questions like “where did you learn this baby???” Or “have you been having fun without me?”. They really love how you taste 😳 this sp wants to pull your dress/skirt up or pants off and just go to town. Their favorite thing is when you’re all dolled up and getting ready to go out. “Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight. Do my hair up real, real nice. And syncopate my skin to your heart beating. Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you. I just wanna look good for you, good for you. Let me show you how proud I am to be yours.” I’m seeing that they admire your facial expressions during sex for to them it’s too cute, something about makeup smudging? Things can get really messy 👀

Full reading on patreon

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Come Alive by Jackson Wang

Earned It by The Weeknd

Swim by Chase Atlantic

Eight of Wands, Death, The Hanged One, Dance, Look to the Stars, Sound Healing, The Grim Reaper, Ascending, & Healthy Choices

When I tell you this pile is NASTYYY. It’s honestly crazy how much this person wants to match your freak, pile 9. Definitely saved best for last. The sex almost feels cinematic in a way. Something about this person just gives main character vibes that is so seductive you can’t turn your eyes away from them. I believe your relationship with this person could have progressed pretty fast. For some of you, you could have kissed or even had sex after the first date. While I also see that this is a friends with benefits situation (does someone have a contract?!). You could find them mysterious or wish to get to know them on a more interpersonal level. You could feel that these things are more surface level in terms of attraction and don’t want the intimacy to only be superficial. I see that this sp is charming and prefers to disclose things little by little. “I come alive. You start me up a million times. And I'm terrified. That you could leave me crying.” So this person could be afraid of opening up to you because they are nervous about getting their heart broken. They might have previously gotten out of a relationship and they are learning how to trust in a partner again. Your sp could be afraid of rejection and that's why they are disorganized in terms of how they want to pursue you. Providing this person with assurance will help them gain courage, also pile 9, make sure to do what's healthy for you, try not to overly devote your time to this person. I see that communicating with your partner and talking about how you have been feeling will want to open up more and trust you. Something about wearing lingerie in the bedroom is a major turn on for this person. Taking control and guiding this person will help allow them to let their guard down. "Cause girl, you're perfect (girl, you're perfect). You're always worth it (always worth it). And you deserve it (and you deserve it). The way you work it (the way you work it). 'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah (earned it). Girl, you earned it, yeah". Your sp would be over the moon for you.

Full reading on patreon

[doitforbangchan]

hai hai haiii!! this has been stuck in my head for SO long, can we get chans reaction to reader surprising him with a skimpy outfit???

Hi darling! ofc you can! sorry it took so long! and to those waiting for drabbles do not fret there is an order and a method to my madness!! more to come soon!!

I want to take a moment to get a lil sappy (as if that never happens 🙃) and thank you all for going on this journey with me and supporting me all year. This blog has become my baby and so many of you have become very dear friends to me. To those who celebrate, happy thanksgiving, and to those who dont i hope you have a wonderful day anyways 💕

ABANB Drabble 05

Your nerves were shot. 

The reflection in the mirror wasn’t you. Or at least not the you that you’ve come to know. No, she was someone different. The lingerie you wore was soft, the sheer teddy framing you perfectly and the pastel pink looked delicate against your skin. It was cute- sexy even. 

Your hair was tossed around to give you a seductive edge and your makeup was done to match the lingerie, a pink dusting both your cheeks and a gloss on your lips. It wasn’t too much yet it felt like it was. 

This was not you. Standing in the bathroom you fiddled with the edges of the teddy as you stared at yourself in the full length mirror. You felt like this whole ordeal was way out of your league, like when you walked out of this bathroom all he’s going to do is laugh at you. 

Reasonably you knew Chan would never laugh at you for your effort, whether he approved of your look or not he would never put you down like that. But still.. Being sexy was not something you were used to or had even considered yourself to be so the lingerie was a new experience. 

You hoped your scent of distress was not leaking out of you like a faucet but that hope was tossed right out the window when you heard the alpha call your name from the adjacent bedroom. 

“Baby? You alright in there, my love?” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice, so stuck in your own head that you were not expecting the distraction. 

“Uh,” Your voice cracked slightly. Clearing your throat you continued, “Yeah, m’ fine.” 

His deep hum reverberated through the walls, “What are you doin in there, sweet girl? You’ve been in there for over an hour.” 

Shit, he noticed. 

“N-nothing, Channie.” You called back, cursing yourself for stuttering. 

“If you're doing nothing in there then how ‘bout you come out here so we can do nothing together, hmm?” His voice was amused, yet with a hint of confusion. You paused, weighing your options . You could go out there and make a fool of yourself, or you could stay in here where it’s safe. You never got to decide for yourself before Chan lowered his timber, using his alpha tone to draw you out. “Omega. Come out.” 

Your hand was on the doorknob before you even knew you had moved, slowly twisting the knob. You took a deep breath as you opened the door, the hinges squeaking as you did so (Chan never got around to fixing that damn squeak but that is a battle for another day). 

The patter of your bare feet on the wooden flooring drew the alpha's eyes to the bathroom door, his pupils immediately dilating at the sight of you. 

Your gaze was cast down as you entered the bedroom, unable to meet his eyes in fear of becoming even more embarrassed than you already were. It wasn’t until you heard the deep growl and smelt the sudden spice that emanated from the man that you finally let your eyes rest on him. 

“Omega… You tryin to kill me or something?” 

His hands were fisting the sheets that he rested upon, his knuckles white as he tried to keep himself in control. He felt his self control slipping away as he drank you in. The soft lace complimented your skin perfectly and the sheerness of it left little to the imagination. It was a delicate look, surprising but absolutely perfect for his sweet little omega. To him you looked devastatingly delicious and he wanted nothing more than to ravage you. 

The scent in the air was ever changing, the neediness was seeping out of Chan in thick waves, so thick you were sure it was stain the walls. You had never seen that look in his face before. It made you feel like an animal of prey that had been found by a hungry predator. It was a deep seated feeling you had only encountered when an alpha was in rut. 

Chan's growls never ceased as you got closer to him. His hand shot out to beckon you closer. You grabbed the hem on your teddy and looked at him shyly. “Do you like it, Channie?” 

Your hand fit into his and he groaned as if he had been burned when your skin made contact, yet he only pulled you in closer, hauling you into his awaiting arms and on top of him. 

“Like does not even begin to describe the way I feel right now, Baby.”  He purred, his strong hands running along the edges of your lingerie, then sliding up under it to touch your bare hips. His head leaned up to bury into the crook of your neck, his sharp teeth nipping and kissing along your skin, making your head spin. “Right now, all I want is to rip this pretty little nighty right off your perfect body and fuck you into this matteress.” 

His words made you tremble, a soft gasp escaping you when he bit particularly hard into you. “Alpha.. Please..” 

You could feel the smirk on his lips at your reaction. “Don’t worry omega, Alpha is gonna take excellent care of you.” 

Your night had only just begun.

©doitforbangchan

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[elleah]

My ex of two months feels like a stranger to me. I can’t even imagine us back together. Our relationship feels like an illusion, as if it never happened. When I think of him, I feel disgusted. I don’t like his traits. He was controlling, but in a subtle way—so subtle that it made me question myself, wondering, “Why do I feel so humiliated, criticized, and rejected? He didn’t even say anything bad.” It was like that.

I left him, and I feel better now. I feel like I have control. I have maintained no contact and ignored his happy birthday text. I’ve unsubscribed from everything connected to him and feel no attachment to him anymore (I think I lost attachment to him gradually while we were still together). However, I still think about him sometimes, and he even appears in my dreams.

I realize I’m still a bit vulnerable, especially as I process how much he disrespected me. But I know these feelings will fade with time, and I’m allowing myself the space to heal. I want other women to trust their intuition and learn from my mistakes, though I understand that every woman has her own life and must make her own choices.

[thememestrider]

Come Back to Me - Mephiston x F! Reader

Wrote this for the beautiful @solspina : I hope I did your man justice :)

Sypnosis: Following a psychic breakdown, the only person who can bring Mepheston back from the brink is his beloved.

C/W: Blood, angst, reverse hurt/comfort, I've only read Dante's novels so my knowledge of Mephiston is second hand at best, I did do some research and I'm confident in how I wrote him but I apologise in advance for the inevitable ooc and lore inaccurate moments XP, unedited so probably errors and typos scattered about.

Mephiston bleeds.

Blood flows untempered from his nose. It leaks from his ears. The taste of copper coats his tongue and fangs, and tears streaked with red tumble in streams down his cheeks. His soul is bleeding, too. Punctured by the warp, he can feel what little is left of his humanity pouring out into the void to be devoured by the unspoken horrors that call it home.

But he does not stop. He can't. For if he were to fail now, the flagship Covenant of Baal, as well as half of Lord Dante's entire fleet would be lost in the warp forever.

His brothers are relying on him to get them home. Trusting him to get them through the warp unscathed. He must not fail them. He mustn't.

"Lord Mephiston!"

A deep voice made tight by fear breaks through Mephiston's reverie. A space marine; a librarian. Mephiston searches for a name, but his mind hasn't the strength to find it.

"My lord!" the librarian shouts again. "The ritual is unstable. We must leave the warp. Now!"

"No." Amplified by the warp and his own, growing fury, Mephiston's voice booms like a war drum. "Baal is close. I can feel it. A few moments longer and we will be there."

"You'll kill yourself, my lord! Or worse, you'll-"

Mephiston cuts him off with a growl. He knows what the librarian is insinuating; that should he loose control of his powers, he could kill everyone on this ship. The marine isn't wrong, Mephiston understands that better than anyone. But that doesn't stop it from stinging just a little when it is brought up.

Which is why I must succeed now. I must not fail my brothers. I must show them they can rely on me. That they can trust me.

The librarian continues to shout his warnings, but Mephiston is no longer listening. The pull he feels towards his destination is strengthening. When he looks out through the infinite dark of the void before him, he can see Baal outlined in red.

So close.

Pain takes him in a vice-like grip. His body seizes. Daemons rake their claws down his soul. They're feeding off his power, he realises. Preparing to use him as a gateway into the material world. In his weakened, exhausted state, Mephiston isn't sure if he can fight them off.

Through the cloud of psychic agony, he remembers words spoken to him by Lord Dante, just days ago.

"You are my friend, Mephiston, but know this. Should you ever become a threat to this chapter or humanity at large, I will strike you down myself."

Dante had said it as a vow. Not only as a leader, but as a friend. It pains Mephiston as much as the creatures tearing into his soul. He wonders if the librarians are seeking out the chapter master so he may fulfill that vow now.

A daemon sinks its fangs into him. He feels them puncture his hearts and shear through what's left of his strength. He screams. Eyes slamming shut, chest heaving from the pain. His mind is determined to hold on, but his body is failing. The strain is too much. It seems the librarian- still Mephiston can't recall his name- had been right.

"Meph? Can you hear me?"

I am sorry, my brothers. I am sorry, my beloved. I was not strong enough. I believed that I was, but I am not.

Her voice cannot hope to pierce the cacophony that is the warp. Yet, somehow, it does.

"Just focus on me, Meph."

Throne, her voice is beautiful. It was one of the first things he'd noticed about her. Wielding both strength and kindness in equal parts, just like her heart.

"You can do this, Mephiston," she says to him. "You can break free. You always do. Just come back to me. Like you always do."

Mephiston opens his eyes. Amidst the haze of psychic madness, the planet Baal remains tantalisingly near. But Mephiston is not searching for it any more. He's searching for her.

"I love you, Meph," she says. "I love you so much. No matter what happens to you or how much you change, I love you all the same."

In spite of everything he is enduring right now, her words pull at Mephiston's hearts like nothing else ever could. It drive him to go faster. Push harder. Tear his way free from the warp and get back to her. It means cutting the warp-jump short; there will be questions from the captains, maybe even Lord Dante himself. It means failing his duty, failing his brothers. But Mephiston does not care. He would rather fail them all a thousand times than cause his woman pain.

The shift from the warp to the real is near instant, and far less physically taxing that vice versa. Typically, it'd be as simple as opening one's eyes. But Mephiston is weakened, his body on the brink of total failure. The real world returns with the force of a whip, and immediately, Mephiston's world is dominated by agony.

The Lord of Death falls to his knees. Blood spills from his eyes and nose. His long silver hair clings to the sweat pouring off his shoulders and chest. His vision blurs. The room begins to spin. Again, Mephiston feels himself falling. This time, though, a pair of soft, nimble hands catch him.

"Easy, Meph. Easy. I've got you."

Her tone is gentle. Her voice, as soft as her touch. Her body trembles under his weight. In spite of his hurts, Mephiston pushes himself upright so as not to lean on her anymore. She frames his face with her hands. He can see tears in her eyes. "Gauis!" she shouts. "Fetch an Apothecary."

The librarian called Gauis nods and takes off without another word. Mephiston realises he was the same librarian who'd been shouting warnings at him before.

With Gauis gone, it is only the two of them here, now. It's then that she throws her arms around Mepheston's neck and drags him into a crushing embrace. "You silly, silly man," she whispers. Mephiston realises she is weeping. "Don't you ever do that to me again. Ever."

She squeezes him tighter. The sleeves of her shirt are growing stained with his sweat and blood, but she doesn't seem to care. Though he barely has the strength to raise him arms, Mephiston returns her embrace in earnest. "I am sorry, my sweet." His voice is thick with fatigue and emotion. He hates it when she cries. He hates it even more when he is the cause. "I thought I had it. I have done this so many times before, I-"

"I don't care." Arms still wrapped around his neck, she draws away just enough so as to meet his eye. Her hands find the base of his scalp. Ever so gently, she strokes him there. "The next time Gauis tells you to cut a ritual short," she tells him. "You listen. If not for your own safety, then for my own peace of mind."

Mephiston looks at her. Since his transformation, his hearts have lost much of their capacity for compassion. But what shreds are leftover belong solely to her. Every piece of him that is still human, still a man, loves her as fiercely as they possibly can. All of this, he lets show in his face. It almost moves him to tears. "I will," he says. "I promise."

She smiles at him. It's the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. Ignoring the blood plastering his face, she leans in and kisses Mephiston, so fiercely it makes his jaw ache. Mephiston struggles to return it in kind, almost tipping over backward from the force with which she presses into him. He winces as the room sways again. She catches his head and guides him to the floor. "It's okay, Meph. You're okay." Gently, she lowers herself down beside him. "The Apothecary will be here soon. For now, just rest."

Without thinking, Mephiston reaches for her hand. She takes it in both of hers and squeezes it tight. "Thank you, " he murmurs.

She brushes her lips across his knuckles. "You know you don't need to thank me. Not now, not ever."

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

If it’s not too much, may I request how Coffee views everyone. He one of my fav skeletons u write

Undertale Sans - They're friends. Coffee likes Sans really much actually as Sans is always calm and knows how to deal with him when he's too anxious. He feels safe around him and regrets he can't hang out more because Wine doesn't like him.

Undertale Papyrus - They're close friends. Coffee is struggling to follow Papyrus' energy sometimes, but Papyrus is extremely patient and works hard to include him in everything he wants to do. Papyrus is also a bit mischievous and likes to drag Coffee into trouble. Coffee usually completely forgets his anxiety when he's hanging out with him.

Underswap Sans - He's often hanging out with Blue when he's hanging with Papyrus. Blue is less patient than Papyrus, but he tries to hold back when Coffee is around. Coffee can tell that's because his brother is a little like him and so he knows how to deal with the constant anxiety. Honey is also one of his best friends so he sees him a lot and they grow closer.

Underswap Papyrus - Coffee and Honey are best friends. When Coffee is not home, most of the time, he's hanging out with Honey, Rus or Ben. Everything seems natural with Honey. They're both artists, and they both like movies, comics, and animals. They can just hang out in bed for hours in complete silence and still have fun. Additionally, he doesn't need to talk all the time and can be understood even when he can't speak. Honey also likes to cuddle and don't think it's weird Coffee is lacking affection so much. They're just comforting each other.

Underfell Sans - Coffee likes Red, even though Red is not always nice to him lol. But sometimes he gets scared outside and Red is sometimes the only one that looks a bit like his brother so Coffee feels safer hanging out with him. Added to that, he knows even if he acts like he's annoyed, Red actually likes him and often asks his brother how he's going when he doesn't show up for a while. Red is a big softie, he's just hiding well.

Underfell Papyrus - He sees Edge as a sort of role model. He's big and strong and confident, and Coffee would love to be like him one day. Well, that's not ready to happen, but at least Edge doesn't push him away, far from that. Edge is actually nice to Coffee and patience. He doesn't know why, but Coffee awakens his protective instincts. Edge is not huggable though, which frustrates Coffee a little.

Horrortale Sans - His second dad, quite literally. When Coffee has troubles, he runs to Oak for help because Oak has adult energy. He's older, so he knows what to do when he messes up big and doesn't know what to do anymore. Oak doesn't mind, he likes having him around. Oak also likes to talk shit about Wine and learns things to Coffee that he knows Wine is going to hate.

Horrortale Papyrus - They're good friends. Coffee likes hanging out with Willow because he is way less energetic than Blue or Papyrus. Willow also taught him how to cook and Coffee is always excited to help when he comes to the farm.

Horrorswap Sans - It took him four months to notice Blue and Nugget are not the same person, despite, you know, the missing arm. He always wondered why Blue was colder sometimes, but now it makes a lot more sense. He still likes Nugget, even though something doesn't seem quite right with him.

Horrorswap Papyrus - He loves hanging out with Pumpkin, but it's best if there's someone to supervise them. Usually, when they're all alone, one of them will have a panic attack somehow which he's going to make the other freak out and have a panic attack as well. They love painting together though, and the fact Pumpkin can't talk is kinda making Coffee more comfortable.

Horrorfell Sans - They grew closer since he's always hanging out in the farm. Coffee likes that he's calmer than Red and a little more gentle. He's like a calmer version of his brother which doesn't want to take control of the whole world, which helps him to take a break from Wine from time to time.

Horrorfell Papyrus - Like Pumpkin, Coffee is weirdly obsessed with Chief. He doesn't know why, he's comforting. Maybe that's because he looks scary even though he's in a wheelchair and Coffee knows he can count on him to defend in case something bad happens. Or maybe Chef has butterfly pheromones that attract Swap Papyruses, we'll never know.

Swapfell Sans - Nox makes him uncomfortable, mainly because he's always fighting with his brother and tries to manipulate him to go against Wine. Coffee doesn't like he thinks he can't think by himself and even though he hangs with him a lot because of Rus, he doesn't like him.

Swapfell Papyrus - Rus is one of his best friends. He never gets bored when Rus is around. They took a long time to warm up to the other, but watching their brothers' shenanigans got them closer. Rus awakened Coffee's chaotic energy he didn't know he had. He's also a terrible influence and drags Coffee in his machiavellian schemes to ruin people's day. They got in trouble together a million times and they'll do it again. You know what they say? Opposites attracted. They both have literally opposite personalities and they can't get bored of the other.

Fellswap Gold Sans - That's his brother. Coffee loves him and still sees him as his role model, even though life on the Surface taught him Wine hid a hell lot of things from him. He desperately wants Wine to understand he needs more independence and to start a new life now, but Wine is not ready to let go yet.

Outertale Sans - They don't know each other that well. They met once or twice when he hung up with Sun, but that's all. He seems nice though!

Outertale Papyrus - They're friends, but they don't see each other often because Sun is working a lot. But they enjoy the small moments they can be together, even more since they both love painting.

Dancetale Sans & Papyrus - All Coffee knows is that apparently they're famous and pass on TV sometimes. He never met them though, or maybe saw them once or twice from far away.

Dancefell Sans - They're friends, even though they don't see each other a lot. He likes that this version of Red has anxiety like him. They have actually a lot of things in common. Except for the dance. Coffee hates dancing. But he likes watching his friends do it for the both of them.

Dancefell Papyrus - They're friends... He thinks? He's not sure. Tango is weird. Sometimes he acts like their the best friends ever, and sometimes he completely ignores him to talk with his TikTok fans... Coffee is not sure what's their relationship or even if what he thinks of him is really sincere or motivated by views. He has mixed feelings about this.

Farmtale Sans - He's family. Coffee is pretty much always hanging in his house or with his brother, and Sam is just happy his brother has someone to talk to. Sam is always there when Coffee needs it and doesn't hesitate to scream at Wine when he does something that makes his brother anxious. Coffee confesses easily to Sam when he doesn't feel well and he's glad to have his support whatever he does.

Farmtale Papyrus - Ben and Coffee are pretty much brothers at this point. They're always together, it's rare when they don't see each other for more than two days in a row. They have similar personalities and they warmed up pretty much immediately because they like the same things. Ben is also a lot more anxious than Coffee, which he didn't think could be possible, so he sometimes has to make choices for both of them, which is very new for Coffee. They're helping each other to heal from past traumas and they're so happy they have each other to gossip at 3 in the morning.

Mafiatale Sans & Papyrus - His brother asked him to stay far away from them, and just staying two minutes in the same room than Creeper told him Wine was right and to not interact. They're scary.

Mafiafell Sans & Papyrus - They kidnapped him once to piss off Wine and Coffee and decided he doesn't like them. Fang is nice to him, but Torpedo is a jerk, he's mean and he scared him on purpose. He hates them, he doesn't want anything to do with them and he's still mad at his brother for letting them do that to him.

Ink - They're friends, he thinks. He's not sure honestly. His brain struggles to understand what's the matter with Ink. Blue is already hyperactive, but Ink is at a whole another level of hyperactivity and he struggles to follow him. It doesn't help that Ink forgot him several times in different AUs, like this time he had to run for his life, chased by a T-Rex Papyrus who wanted to eat him alive. He's not a big fan of traveling with Ink.

Error - Accidentally got caught by Error once and that was the worst time of his life. Error threatened to erase him if he didn't tell where was Ink, but he really didn't know where Ink was and just cried in fear for two hours. Eventually, Error got bored of him and released him, and Coffee promised to never stay in his way again lol.

Disbelief Papyrus - They're close friends, it's no surprise to anyone. He's a calmer version of Papyrus, and so Coffee feels safe around him. Delta is also a good hugger, and that's good because Coffee doesn't like that he looks so sad sometimes.

Killer Sans - They're friends, but Killer acts a little weird sometimes and creeps him out just a tiny bit. Coffee doesn't trust him entirely because he has a very high LV and he knows that makes monsters unstable. But at the same time, Killer is funny and knows how to make him comfortable. Coffee knows he lost his Papyrus too and so he's nice to him because Killer calls him Papyrus sometimes and looks really regretful. It never for long, but Coffee can tell he's not feeling well.

Dustale Sans - They have a relationship for sure. What type though? No idea. Dune is just standing there, holding his hand, making him very uncomfortable. Sometimes he sniffs him too. Coffee is not sure if it's positive or if he wants to eat him. Probably a little bit of both. That's both scary and fascinating.

[devildom-moss]

May poll story

NSFW - Asmodeus x Solomon x MC

(Asmodeus x Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (switchy overall but slightly sub!Solomon) (poly/threesome) (no penetration; oral - receiving; handjob - Asmo giving Solomon; dry humping; so much kissing; light praise; bondage; facial; cum eating; photos; lots of teasing; marking/hickeys; "master" for Solomon by Asmo; voyeurism; no reader/MC sex organs specified)

Word Count: +4,400

Asmo was hosting an intimate Asmo Night with his two favorite humans. Some nights, he simply wanted a bit of attention from you both – affection from two people he knew adored him for who he was. Fans were nice, but he wanted to be around someone he had feelings for, and in your case, his love was so intense it almost matched his love for himself. A relaxing sleepover with you and Solomon seemed like the perfect way to get his fill of adoration.

As usual, Asmo was a wonderful host, preparing games, activities, and an abundance of snacks – although the latter was planned, in part, to dissuade Solomon from attempting to cook. If Solomon had brought homemade food, that would have ruined the entire night.

With a long night ahead of you, Asmo sipped his Demonus slowly, fearing intoxication; there would be other nights to get drunk around either of you, but tonight, he wanted to feel in control of everything – to savor every word, look, and sensation that he eagerly anticipated. Asmo wanted to remember the way Solomon’s eyes darted between his body and yours as the two of you danced to music he had put on – the way his gaze felt hungry like some vicious predator in that moment and how Solomon had smothered his desire as the song came to an end, trying not to initiate something so early in the night. He wanted to fully enjoy the warmth of your lips on his neck when you lost the card game that Solomon insisted be made a little more interesting by turning it into a punishment game – no doubt hoping luck would be on his side tonight, especially with Barbatos not in attendance. You were all too happy to agree to Asmo’s – slightly restrained – punishment. All he wanted was for you to leave a hickey on him in a place where everyone would see it. Out of all the things Asmo could have asked for, that almost seemed innocent. Asmo wanted to engrave the praise you and Solomon gave him when he put on an impromptu fashion show. Your words were honey-sweet, pooling on your tongues so enticingly that he could hardly resist kissing both of you and tasting the words in his mouth.

Later in the night, Asmo stretched, letting out a soft little moan, and got up. “I was thinking – maybe we could all take a nice long bath together, hmm~? My bath is big enough for all of us. What do you think?”

Solomon scoffed and shook his head, seeing right through Asmo’s offer. “No thanks. You just want to get us both naked.”

“Well, of course, hun. Can’t blame a demon for trying, can you~?” Asmo winked. “What about you, MC?”

“You’re really going to leave me all alone in your room? That’s hardly good hosting etiquette.” Solomon cocked his head to the side, as if it was a veiled threat. “Besides, if you two bathe alone together, who knows how long you’ll be in there.”

“Ugh, Solomon! You’re such a meanie!” Asmo huffed. “You won’t let me get a good look at that body of yours, and now you want to keep MC all to yourself.”

“By all means,” Solomon shrugged, “leave me to my own devices – unsupervised in your room. Or maybe I’ll go prepare a snack while you two add unnecessary steps to getting clean.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, Solomon!” you interjected quickly. He knew his cooking was universally considered a weapon, didn’t he? You’d never put it in such harsh words – but he had to understand that, right? “Besides, you’ll only get into trouble if you’re on your own for too long.”

Asmo caught your eyes, silently thanking you for sparing him – and everyone else in the House of Lamentation for that matter. “Anyway~ I’ll be back. Behave, you two.”

As Asmo made a hasty escape, Solomon smirked at you. “You don’t really think I’m so troublesome that I can’t be left alone, do you?”

It was clear to him that you had lied; after all, he knew his adorable apprentice inside and out. There was little that you could hide from him, but his self-confidence and desire wiped Solomon’s memory of his threat of extra-strength food poisoning; the only reason you wanted to stay with him that remained was because you were hoping for some alone time together. Solomon got up from Asmo’s hanging chair and walked over to you.

“Are you not troublesome?” you teased, inching over on the edge of the bed so Solomon could sit next to you.

Solomon chuckled, shook his head, and put one knee up on the bed next to your thigh. “Would you like me to be?”

“Meaning?” You gave Solomon a confused look, but as he straddled your lap and extended his arms behind your head, you knew exactly what he meant. Your eyes unintentionally darted towards Asmo’s bathroom door, worried that he would suddenly return.

“Fool around with me,” Solomon got closer and whispered in your ear, bringing your attention back to him.

“I don’t know, Sol.” It seemed mean to Asmo: making out – or more – with someone else in his bed while he was busy, especially on an Asmo night. If he walked in, saw that, and realized he wasn’t included, you thought, “Asmo might get pouty.”

Solomon’s low, gentle laugh rang in your ear before he began to kiss down your neck. “He’ll like it, trust me.”

Each kiss was slow and deliberate, aiming to leave his mark on you. Perhaps Solomon needed a way to remedy his jealousy from when you gave Asmo a hickey earlier – or perhaps he was simply overcome by his underlying desire to mark you as his own. Either way, Solomon continued to suck and nip down your skin until he was satisfied with his work. His hot breath, saliva, and the sweet moans that escaped his lips as he squirmed in your lap sent shivers up your spine. By the time he pulled away, your heart was racing.

“Oh!” Solomon grinned, took his wand out from his back pocket, and gave it a quick wave. You furrowed your brows; Solomon replaced his wand just as quickly as he had pulled it out. He brought his finger up to his lips and whispered, “had to cast a secret spell.”

“And you wonder why people think you’re shady? What did you do?” you laughed.

“I cast a spell to warm up Asmo’s towels for when he’s done with his bath.” Your heart melted immediately – only to feel jolted as Solomon added, “now, where were we?”

Solomon took advantage of the quickly-fading charm of his sweetness to push you on your back with a grin on his face. He leaned down close but hesitated slightly – waiting for any sign of resistance. “Please” formed silently on his lips, grazing yours in a chaste kiss, touching you lightly like a devotee may trace the outlines of an altar. You were sacred to Solomon; in all his years, he had never met another creature he regarded as so holy. No demon nor angel could have his worship like this. Every prayer that fell from Solomon’s lips was an act of love and devotion. Across all three realms, only you had given Solomon something worthy of divine adoration.

He could only hope that his reverence would translate, transcribed on your hallowed body with his lips and tongue. Solomon’s kisses grew deeper and more desperate, as if he was starved of your affection and intended to gorge himself on whatever love you offered. Nothing could come between him and his communion – not even the demon standing in the doorframe to the bathroom.

Kisses trailed down your neck as Solomon’s hand made its way under the hem of your shirt, teasing your bare skin with his fingertips. When he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, you could tell from his eagerness and attention to one particular area that he intended to mark you. Your brows knit together, but the ecstasy of Solomon’s lips was interrupted by the gentle biting feeling of someone else’s eyes on you, so you turned your gaze to the bathroom door.

Asmo’s eyes were half-lidded, and a seductive smirk sat on his face when he finally caught your eye. He held your gaze intently, as if determined to pull your attention away from Solomon for as long as he could. Only when Solomon panted hotly against your neck and softly, slowly dragged his nails along your stomach so lightly that your skin was as unaffected as a brilliant sapphire brushed over by a raven’s feather, causing you to shiver and gasp, did Asmo feel a compelling tinge of jealousy. His smile dropped, briefly slipping into a pout, before he resolved himself and strutted towards the two precious humans playing around in his bed.

Solomon felt Asmo’s presence, but he refused to acknowledge him until Asmo ran a lovely hand up Solomon’s back with an amused hum. “Just how far were you planning to go in my bed?”

“As far as I could,” Solomon admitted with a chuckle, sitting up and pressing his back against Asmo’s hand. “Problem?”

“May~be~” Asmo sang sweetly. “Depends on whose cute little idea this was. MC?”

“Solomon said you’d like it,” you blurted out under the scrutiny of Asmo’s honey-sweet tone. Solomon feigned offense and got off you so he could get a better look at Asmo, who was standing in a lovely pink silk robe decorated with red spider lilies and blood spatter, along with a matching bonnet.

“Betraying your own teacher?” Asmo hummed. “That’s my MC.”

“Yours?” Solomon scoffed and playfully added, “that mark on their neck isn’t your handiwork.”

You could feel the tension building in the room as Asmo’s affectionate stare turned from you towards Solomon with an inhuman wickedness – devious and sexy in a way that caused Solomon to shiver excitedly. Asmo cooed, “oh, poor Solomon. An appetizer sits in the stomach all the same, doesn’t it? I think MC’s had their fill of you, darling. I’m so gorgeous, I’m obviously the main course and dessert; isn’t that right, MC?”

The sense that Solomon and Asmo were trying to stake their claim on you was muddied by the seductive overtones and lustful stares they offered each other. Solomon was about to sit up and pull Asmo into a forceful, dominating kiss when Asmo snapped his fingers. The vines of roses that adorned Asmo’s bed shot out and quickly restrained Solomon, pulling him back towards the headboard.

At first, Solomon chuckled and weakly tugged against the vines, putting on a show of struggling. When he did, he felt the vines wind around him more – stronger than before. Solomon looked surprised and tried a low-level unbinding spell to loosen the restraints, but it only backfired. The vines moved further up his arms, and one slipped around his waist. Solomon could feel faint traces of his own magic imbued in the vines now, causing the roses to glow a soft pink. Panic flashed in his eyes briefly as he realized what Asmo had done, but it dissolved into amusement and arousal.

“Lucifer has some very interesting books on how to deal with powerful sorcerers,” Asmo giggled at Solomon. “You can struggle, but that will only make it worse. Only the caster can undo the spell.”

“Asmo!” You sat up in protest. That seemed a bit excessive. However, your concern for Solomon melted when he met your eyes with a soft smile.

“It’s fine,” he reassured you.

“Besides,” Asmo interjected, gently turning your head back to face him, “if he was against it, he’d use his pact on me and be free right away. Trust me.”

You did; you trusted them both, and so when Asmo slowly pushed you back down on the bed, you let him. His charm didn’t work on you the way it did with others, but it was so easy to allow yourself to slip under Asmo’s seductive spell. He was so lovely as he pushed your shirt up and slowly kissed down your stomach, brushing his lips over the places Solomon’s fingers had dared to touch. Solomon may have tried to claim you first tonight, but Asmo was determined to overwrite every bit of Solomon’s seduction until the only man you could think of was him; he was the Avatar of Lust, after all. Asmo was programmed to make you come undone at his hands.

Every kiss and puff of air that left Asmo made you tremble and shiver until your hand found his bedsheets and bunched the soft threads against your palm. He heard your movements and giggled, lifting his head slightly and staring up at you seductively. Your body continued to shake under his gaze despite the momentary relief from the pleasure of his lips on your skin. He sat up, removed his bonnet, and chucked it to the floor. Asmo gently loosened your tight grip around his sheets and held your hand briefly before bringing it up to his lips, leaving a lingering, sensual kiss on the tops of your fingers. Slowly, Asmo moved your hand up to his slightly damp hair and guided your hand into a ball until you were gripping it. “Be as rough or as gentle as you need.”

Asmo lowered himself back down to your body until his hair tickled your bare skin, leaving small pools of water where his hair touched you or where droplets fell. The cool sensation of drying water was juxtaposed with Asmo’s hot mouth as his kisses got slower, sloppier, and sexier. He kissed you like he was devouring a dessert with all the lewd sexiness of an adult streamer. The intimacy of it felt overwhelming. Each motion was a clear sign of affectionate dedication. Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would go to war for your pleasure and make all forms of perverse, depraved, and beautiful love for your safety. His entire world was you and Solomon in his bed right now, and nothing short of the catastrophic end of all three realms would dare interrupt his blissful peace.

His delicate and thoughtful touches convinced you that Asmo had every intention of unraveling you with his mouth. Even Solomon could sense it as he watched on in amusement. You began to feel self-conscious and needy. Choosing to attempt a diversion, you whined and squirmed away from Asmo’s touch, but he only followed your movements with intensified desire. He knew you were loving this, and if you wanted to pause, you’d have to muster up all your strength and use your words. Whimpering his name, you interrupted his ceremonious flood of devotion. “Asmo, please, wait. I should be spoiling you.”

“Nonsense,” Asmo chuckled, licking a long stripe up your stomach before continuing, “letting me turn you on is spoiling me.”

 Asmo pecked your lips lovingly, staring at you with overflowing adoration as he pulled away. It was almost unbearable. He pulled at every defense, like loosening the soft, satin ribbon of a corset, determined to undo your strength and set you at ease. With a heated smirk, Asmo looked up at you from between your thighs. Your clothes were disheveled – pants pulled unevenly around your hips, shirt pushed up to your chest, underwear peeking out over your pants, yet still exposing part of your ass. The only way you could look sexier, Asmo thought, was if he could get you out of those clothes, but he was far too eager and would settle for getting you out of your underwear.

Maintaining eye contact, Asmo slid your pants further down, and you lifted your legs to help him. They were tossed across the room as far as Asmo could manage while he was still fixated on you. He bent down to kiss your bare thigh, tickling you with his breath as he giggled. Mischievous as ever, Asmo quickly swiped his tongue over the wet spot on your underwear. The whimper he pulled from your lips delighted his ears.

“I love you,” Asmo whispered, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh once more. The tenderness in his voice melted your thoughts and stalled your tongue so that his declaration went unanswered – not that Asmo needed a reply when he pulled back and looked at you splayed beneath him. If this was not an act of love between you, then love must be more myth than reality.

Your underwear was discarded on the bed next to Solomon’s thigh – Asmo’s subtle attempt to tease him: leaving your damp underwear in his line of sight, just out of reach. Solomon tugged against his restraints with an annoyed sigh only for the vines to snap right back into place.

In a gentle display of strength, Asmo lifted you and repositioned your body so that you were laying with your head at the foot of the bed. On his knees, he looked down at you again. If only you were wearing my shirt, too, he thought. When Asmo bent down to kiss your inner thighs, Solomon was graced with the sight of Asmo’s gorgeous ass – a show that Asmo was well aware he was putting on, evidenced by the subtle roll of his hips as he moaned against your skin. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, then he was too sexual for his own good.

The feeling of soft lips, hot breath, and vibrating moans melted every thought in your mind, and just seconds before a plea for more escaped your lips, Asmo pulled away. You whimpered, making an almost pathetic sound. Asmo giggled, thrilled by your cute desperation. “Ready for more, luv?”

“Mhmm.” You looked down at him, catching his burning gaze. He was loving this. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of Solomon staring at you just as intensely. His cheeks flushed bright pink from the sound of your voice alone, but even the obscured sight of you on your back, waiting for Asmo’s next move so eagerly and obediently, had him throbbing in his pants.

“Good,” Asmo sighed in relief. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Asmo sunk down further than before, kissing you quickly before giving you a gentle lick. You gasped, and he rewarded you by sticking out his tongue, wet with saliva, and leaving it against you for a few seconds as he giggled, allowing you to simply feel the warm slick of his mouth.

Lust – as a pure essence – seeped from Asmo’s tongue. How else could you explain the aphrodisiacal effects he had on your body? It appeared effortless for him to leave you squirming and rolling your hips up against his mouth. Those lovely lips made a mess of you. Loud, needy moans that humiliated all who heard them served as proof of the sexual expertise of the demon between your legs. Your mind clouded. Your breath shortened. Your head lolled back.

You were being so perfect and pretty for Asmo that he couldn’t hold his own need back. His hips lowered just enough so he could leisurely grind against his bed, compounding his pleasure as he continued to taste and tease you. Asmo’s own moans reverberated against you and played as a beautiful accompaniment to your own that drove Solomon wild. Sexually intoxicating you was Asmo’s sole focus – entirely undisturbed until a soft groan from Solomon caught his ear – the sort that indicated a shameful degree of frustration that only made Asmo pull away from you slightly with a giggle. You whined.

“Poor thing,” Asmo cooed quietly, and, for a second, you weren’t sure whether he was talking about you or Solomon. “Should we give Solomon a bit of attention, too, MC?”

As much as you wanted Asmo to keep going, the opportunity to expand your circle of unearthly pleasure excited you – and you knew Asmo would never leave you unsatisfied. Head still hazy, you offered a slow nod as you shakily sat up. Asmo saw your unsteadiness and rose to meet you; a stabilizing hand found the back of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you affectionately. Your taste lingered on his tongue, shared with you through a deepening kiss that was cut cruelly short, the ache of which was only soothed by the adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he stared back at your bliss-stained face.

“My love is too beautiful.” Asmo cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips before prompting your mouth open with it, “and so good, too.”

You bit down on him gently, earning a delighted laugh.

“Fuck,” Solomon sighed, growing impatient and eager for attention. The sight of you and Asmo flirting and being romantic was riling him up, stirring up this dark, predatory aura that dimmed the glow of the roses from a soft pink to a mysterious lavender. Even in the lowered lights, you saw his need and desperation cleanly – compressed and carefully restrained, ready to be made a mess of.

“My poor master,” Asmo giggled teasingly, turning and crawling over to Solomon, leisurely and wordlessly requiring for the release of his thumb – as if he was reluctant to let the appendage leave your mouth without proper attention. Perhaps another time, but at this moment, Solomon’s body called to him. Asmo leaned down, getting a closer look at the twitching tent in Solomon’s pants and running a single finger up it. “Should I give you a hand?”

“Just a hand?” Solomon scoffed. All that teasing and waiting, and the only thing you’ll give me is a hand, Solomon thought, pretty little brat.

“Trust me,” Asmo spoke sweetly enough to appease the great sorcerer, “you’ll like it.”

You and Solomon watched on in anticipation as Asmo undid Solomon’s pants and slid them slowly down his hips. To your surprise, Solomon’s cock sprang up.

“You naughty boy~” Asmo teased, “no underwear~? You weren’t expecting this, were you?”

“You really are a slutty old man,” you chuckled and approached him. Before Solomon could protest, you caught his lips in a heated kiss so intense that his embarrassment leaked from the tip of his cock. Asmo used it to lube up his hand in slow, circular motions around the head before he started stroking Solomon in equally slow motions. A rumbling sigh fed you and died in the back of your throat as Solomon eagerly accepted your kiss. That deep, debauched sound contrasted with the soft, submissive whimper that left his lips as you pulled away and attempted to cling to you.

“Grind on my ass, MC,” Asmo instructed, interrupting your kiss-induced haze.

“What?” you asked, playfully amused.

“Hump me, silly,” Asmo giggled and shook his ass for you slightly – still focusing on pleasuring Solomon. “Let me make you both feel good.”

You pet Asmo’s head gently before you positioned yourself behind him. With a firm grip, you pulled him flush against your hips and started to grind against his soft ass, earning an aroused “oh.” Solomon’s eyes met yours, and despite being bound by vines, he smirked at you, as if he could read your mind. Maybe it was the eroticism of the situation, but as you rolled your hips into Asmo’s, all you could think was fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good. Or maybe Solomon knew what you were thinking because the same thought crossed his mind.

“Do my soft, pretty hands feel good, master~?” Asmo asked, looking up a Solomon with the loveliest eyes – a look that unfortunately went ignored as Solomon watched your face contort in pleasure. Asmo’s only response was Solomon’s desperate attempt to thrust his hips up into Asmo’s hand at the same pace as you were humping his ass; it said enough, and the demon was all melodic giggles.

Was it Asmo’s warm, soft skin, or Solomon’s burning gaze holding you, or the moans of both men that filled the room? Maybe Asmo was using a spell on you? Something intensified the pleasure, and before you could figure out what was getting you so worked up, you were cumming against Asmo’s ass.

Asmo could feel you pulsing as your grinding slowed but refused to stop; a part of you still wanted more – couldn’t bear to separate your body from his. Asmo took advantage of Solomon’s evident excitement at getting to watch you cum and sped up his movements, pulling more lewd noises from Solomon.

“Fuck, please?” Solomon whined mindlessly, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I know~” Asmo cooed. “Be a good master and cum on my face, ‘kay?”

Solomon was so focused on biting back his moans that he couldn’t even manage a nod. Instead, he replied by following orders and spurting cum all over Asmo’s pretty face. Asmo looked up at Solomon; that lovely face that he had made a mess of made Solomon’s cock twitch. Asmo leaned in to kiss Solomon and stretched his arm over to the nightstand, grabbing his D.D.D. and opening the camera app. He pulled away with a seductive smile, turned, and handed you the device.

“Take a flattering picture, luv,” Asmo grinned. He wasn’t going to upload this moment; some things were too intimate to share – but not so intimate that proof of it should stay confined in memories. You snapped a few pictures – some lovelier than others, but one in particular caught your attention as you scrolled back. You showed it to Asmo for his nod of approval. He took his phone from your hand and gently tossed it on the bed so he could caress your face with both hands. “Beautiful.”

You weren’t sure if he meant you or the photo – or maybe you were, but you were too embarrassed to admit that the Avatar of Lust looked at a photo of himself and still turned to you in admiration, in worship. Yet, you, like a disciple, leaned in and began to clean his face with your tongue. Asmo was giddy at your touch, but with each slow trail your tongue traced, fervent arousal grew in him. Even Solomon, confined to watching, felt himself getting hard once more. He was enamored – so much so that he waited until you had cleaned every drop of cum off Asmo’s face before he dared interrupt by clearing his throat.

Asmo laughed and snapped his fingers, freeing Solomon from his binds.

Solomon chuckled, “you sure know how to show a few humans a good time.”

“It’s not over yet, is it?” You glanced down at Solomon’s crotch quickly.

“Of course not,” Solomon got to his knees and kissed Asmo’s forehead sweetly, placing his hand on the base of Asmo’s neck, as he stared at you lovingly, propositioning you. “Let’s give you a fun Asmo night.”

Once again, you weren’t sure who was at the receiving end, but you were certain night would bleed into morning. If the Devildom had a sun, your lovemaking would greet the sunrise in equal beauty.

(A/N: please ignore that this is half a year late and please enjoy the content. Turns out Obey me is almost done, but I'll keep giving you content to make you feel stuff for a while.)

[chuuyaspinkmotorcycle16]

Day 21: Arcade

Chuuya watches the blinking red ‘Game Over’ screen in front him, the feeling of defeat infesting his insides once again as Dazai cackles from the other side of the gaming machine. 

Hands fisting with rage-induced tremors, he springs up, knocking his stool aside and looking over the top at the brunet. “Rematch, you cheating bastard!”

Dazai giggles, a smirk on his lips as he meets Chuuya’s eyes. “But Chuuya, that’s what you said last time. And the time before that and the time before–”

Chuuya screeches, dropping his head onto the machine and groaning out the rest of his frustrations. It is true, much to his derision, he has lost the last… four (?) matches. All he knows is that the score is 1-to-5 in Dazai’s favor, meaning the mackerel is the winner of this versus session.

After venting his not-so-kind thoughts into Dazai and the machine, he stands straight to cross his arms as narrows his eyes at Dazai. “Alright, what’ll it be this time?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Let me think about it,” Dazai says, getting up himself.

“What?! You had this whole time to think about it, are you shitting–”

Dazai grabs Chuuya’s hand suddenly, pointing across the arcade to something that Chuuya can’t even see thanks to a different machine in his way. Stupid beanpole and his stupid height.

“I want that! Chuuya has to get it for me as punishment!” Dazai does a little hop, whining more as he keeps pointing.

Of course he couldn’t clarify what it is. Chuuya doesn’t know if he’s about to agree to paying for a dumb trinket or the whole arcade.

“Stop that,” Chuuya starts, grabbing Dazai’s outstretched arm to reel it in before he smacks some unsuspecting person. “Tell me exactly what it is and what you want me to do. I’m not being forced to do extra work again because you didn’t specify the rules.”

Dazai rolls his eyes, snatching Chuuya’s wrist and practically dragging him to his destination before Chuuya can even react.

As they keep twisting and turning, Chuuya’s beginning to wonder how the bastard even saw whatever he’s aiming for.

And then he sees it.

It’s in one of the claw machines on the top shelf where people with no self-control are supposed to stick the claw’s handle through an itty-bitty hole.

Chuuya does have to admit, though – it IS cute. Very much so. And fluffy enough to have those blankets stores only bring out for the holiday season fucking jealous. 

Staring back at Chuuya with beady, shining eyes is one ginger, stuffed-plush cat big enough to fill Dazai’s greedy arms.

He’ll give it to Dazai – this is nowhere near the worst punishment he’s given. That doesn’t mean Chuuya has to be happy about it as he yanks out his wallet, though.

With even more grumbles, he inserts his first bill of the night, watching with the most deadpan expression he can make as the machine lights up, LEDs going wild in front of them at the prospect of another sucker.

Unfortunately, Chuuya knows how this part of the game goes. Dazai’s grip is tight on him, eyes laser-pointed at the item of his desire. 

Chuuya takes a breath, trying to focus as he feels the heat of Dazai’s hands seeping through his clothes. With a blink, he moves the stick controller, bringing the key towards the little hole on the other side of the glass. He pauses.

Behind him, he hears Dazai sniff, the judgement of it clear to Chuuya. The redhead whirls around.

“Bastard, fix it yourself–” and from the corner of his eye, he sees the key start to move forward, the timer having run out.

It misses by a centimeter. Chuuya growls, getting ready to insert the next bill.

Dazai continues his hold on him, this time going so far as to wrap his arms around his shoulders from behind and lean his head against the side of Chuuya’s.

The electric lights do their silly little dance again, and this time Chuuya makes sure to concentrate. This machine will. not. beat. him.

He lines it up, taking a moment to think. Dazai taps his chest twice, and Chuuya shifts the stick to the right the smallest amount he possibly can.

Just as he’s about to hit the button to get it to move, something bumps into Dazai and thus him, pushing him forward enough to hit the stick and the timer goes off.

Chuuya watches as the handle misses by more than just a centimeter.

And then a chill goes down his spine. He shifts in Dazai’s hold, glancing up and over his shoulder to see those black hole eyes pinpointed on a kid who didn’t even bother to apologize. Before the Demon Prodigy can cause anyone, child or not, to piss themselves, Chuuya shrugs him off.

He inserts one more bill. Just as Dazai moves to go back to his perch, Chuuya sticks his hand out to stop him.

The machine whirls to life again, this time with a red glow barely enveloping it. Chuuya brings the handle to where it was before using the actual stick, then from here he lets the machine do its thing.

As the key moves forward, he forces the machine to line itself up in the correct position, feeling the mechanics trying to go against him but they’re no use against the power of gravity.

The key fits perfectly, unlocking the glass box holding the plush and releasing it into a hole beneath it. A thunk near their feet alerts them to its delivery, and Dazai is quick to snatch it up and into his waiting arms, any traces of the Demon Prodigy long gone as he beams at Chuuya.

“Thanks, Chibi!” He squeezes the cat against his chest, and Chuuya tries to ignore the small thrill of butterflies flying around his stomach.

He frowns, looking away and crossing his arms. “Tch, whatever.”

He opens his eyes again. There, across from them in a corner of the store he couldn’t see earlier, is one of those shooting carnival games, this time with nerf darts to avoid any liabilities.

And above it, hanging from a little loop connected to the roof, is a black cat plush — reminiscent of Dazai’s new one to the point it could be from the same brand, a matching set.

He only spends a second staring at it, debating, before turning away. He’s got better things to spend his money on. It doesn’t matter how soft it looks or how cute. He’s not a kid like Dazai.

He makes a move for the exit, intent on getting out before he can rethink his decisions.

A foot to his shins has him almost hitting the floor. He knows exactly who did it as he catches himself. He couldn’t use his ability just then, after all.

“Dazai, what the fu–”

“Shh, there’s children in here,” Dazai admonishes, his trademark fake gasp popping out, albeit a little less dramatic. Before Chuuya can question it, Dazai’s twirling around to face the carnival-esque shooting game and marching forward, one of his hands wrapped around Chuuya’s wrist much like before.

“One round, please,” the brunet says, taking out his own wallet that Chuuya’s never actually seen until now and handing the cash over to the employee. With the nerf gun equipped, he glances at Chuuya for a split second and sends him a smirk. “Watch and learn, Chuuya.”

Chuuya really can only watch and learn as Dazai effortlessly hits five different targets in their bullseyes, one after the other. The electronics connected to them flash over and over with each hit.

And once a moment has passed for both the employee and Chuuya to pick up their jaws – mostly the employee, though – Dazai sets the gun back down and merely points up at the black cat plush.

The employee gets it down, leaving it on the counter for them to take.

Chuuya doesn’t immediately reach for it. Why would Dazai do this? It doesn’t make sense to him.

Dazai nudges his shoulder and he hesitantly reaches out to grab the plush.

Today is one of the few days he decided to forgo his gloves; the cat’s fur is just as soft as it looked. From here, he can tell that this one is a black version of Dazai’s, a duo set.

He’s never had a plush of his own.

“Why?” he asks, avoiding Dazai’s eyes as he stares into the black fur. Something in his chest is warming up. What, he doesn’t know.

“Chuuya wanted him,” Dazai says, shifting on his feet to sway from his toes to the balls of his feet. “And a thank-you for Slug.”

/That/ causes Chuuya to look up. “Hah?”

“What? He looks like chibi, doesn’t he?” Dazai shoves the orange plush into Chuuya’s face. “See, see?”

Chuuya scoffs, shoving ‘Slug’ out of the way. He sticks his tongue out. “If he’s Slug, then this one’s Mackerel.”

Dazai laughs then, high and airy – genuine – and Chuuya can only attempt to hide his reddening cheeks behind Mackerel’s head. He follows as the brunet leads them outside where the sun has begun to set.

And once they’re a few blocks away, when their lighthearted jabs fade into a comfortable silence, Chuuya gives his own thanks, earning the endearing sight of Dazai’s widened eyes and tinged cheeks before the other tries to wave it away.

[lucygxybaird]

billy x reader - reader turns billy into a vampire

tw: injury, death (i guess??)

Billy has never been the sort of man to count his days — he’s been too busy scraping by, working from dawn til dusk, if not simply trying to survive under a hail of bullets and enmity that sometimes feels unrelenting. 

There have been times where he’s felt the whole world is against him, and if his faith in God had been strong enough, he would wonder what exactly he’d done to earn the wrath of the Almighty. Loss, violence and grief have dogged his steps since he was sixteen, but he was able to bear it all, either through sheer stubbornness or his belief that he was doing the right thing. 

And then he lost you.

Whatever force that fueled him, whether it’s the soul as his mother would have claimed, or the single-minded fire which separates man from beast, shuddered and died the moment he saw you lying there. So still, your skin waxen and white, your eyes half-hidden behind lowered lashes that didn’t fully conceal your empty gaze. He’d cradled you in his arms for hours — even now, he’s not sure for how long — until Manuela had finally convinced him to let you rest.

And then you came home. 

It took weeks, long enough for the winter to begin bleeding into spring. But you returned to him, standing outside his window, your icy fingers caressing his face as you told him you needed to be invited in. He didn’t understand, at first; but when you explained everything, when you told him what you were, he’d felt only a joy so intense that it bordered on pain. It didn’t matter to him what you needed to sustain you, just that you’d returned to him. 

He had asked you — or tried to, anyway — if you would change him. He’s desperate to be with you forever, to never risk losing you again, but there’s a whisper of temptation, of yearning for something else. The idea that he never has to fear illness again, that silent specter which has laid waste to so much in his life. 

For so long, he’s expected that the thread of his fate will be cut by a bullet, but always — with each sore throat, a sniffle, an ache he can’t quite explain — he wonders if it’s his turn. If he will die, ashen and wracked with coughing, soaked with sweat, cheeks sunken and eyes immense in his face, the way his mother and brother did. If you would have to watch him fade away, dirty snow melting into the soil, just as he had to do. 

But if you change him, he’ll be free of both, free from the fear of guns and fever. 

Compared to being with you for eternity, the idea pales in comparison, but it’s there. 

That night, the night you finally came back, you asked him to think on it. And he has, obsessively, his thoughts turning and churning like a water wheel in a flash flood. His dreams have been full of thirst, of a body so powerful and so altered that it almost seems beyond his control. He wonders if it will hurt, and how badly, if the longer he lives, the more of his human life he’ll forget. Will he lose his mother’s face? His father’s voice? Joe’s smile? Tunstall’s kindnesses? 

But — he comes back to this, every time — he’ll have you. The two of you will have each other. Whatever he may lose, whatever he has to sacrifice, it will be worth it. 

He’s thought about it, he has. And he knows what he wants. This life, his first life, has been nothing but one trial after another, after another, an endless march through the vale of tears, and none of it was by choice. And, really, the more he considers it, this really isn’t a choice, either. 

He will never, never let anything separate the two of you again, certainly not something as prosaic as six feet and a coverlet of dirt. 

Your fingers are combing through his hair as he lays with his head pillowed on your chest, body curled to fit against yours. It took him a little while to become used to you as you really are, when you dropped the facade that you were still living. You don’t eat regular food anymore, of course, although sometimes you take a sip of his coffee (it’s hot enough that you can feel it, you say, and bitter enough that you can taste a hint of it on your tongue). 

You don’t bother to pump your lungs like a bellows, forcing your chest to rise and fall; sometimes, in fact, your entire body is so still that he feels as though there’s a statue sitting at the kitchen table, or nestled in his arms in bed as you are now. And the only sound of breathing echoing in the room now is his, which means that the silence is only broken up by an occasional sigh, whether it’s the wind or his own murmur.

So when you speak, he can’t help but jump, his body jerking against yours like a wave splashing up against the rocks. Your fingers go still, nestled in his hair. 

Despite his hammering heart, Billy smiles when you giggle. “Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” he says. He props himself up on an elbow to look into your face. “I was just…thinkin’, I guess.”

You smile up at him, reaching up a cool hand to lay your palm against his cheek. “I know,” you say. “That’s what I was trying to ask you. I just wanted to know what was on your mind. I could practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

Billy snorts softly. He lays down next to you, putting his hand against yours to keep it against his face. He’s always run warm, and your porcelain touch feels exquisite, soothing as a cool sip of water on a hot day. 

“Was there smoke comin’ out of my ears?”

You giggle again. He decided a long time ago that your laugh was just about his favorite sound in the world, but now, after being so sure he would never hear it again, he thinks there’s no way heaven itself could have sweeter music. 

“Not quite,” you say, and you resume the soothing stroking motion through his curls. “What were you thinking about?”

“You,” he says. His tone indicates this should be obvious. What else would be be thinking about, ever? “Us. Forever.”

You don’t say anything for what feels like a very long time. He wonders if it seems as long to you, or if even little increments of time don’t mean the same thing to you as they do to him. Years, he can understand. Decades, even. But how does a minute feel? Does it stretch until it’s gossamer-thin, like a spoke of a spiderweb? Or does it condense, until it’s smaller than a grain of sand, so that a countless multitude can be clutched in the palm of a hand?

“Billy, I need you to be sure,” you say finally. “I would never want to deprive you of anything, even if it means—”

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t even speak it. I’m not goin’ anywhere, whether you change me or not.” He sits up, the bedclothes pooling around his waist, and you do the same, hugging your own side of the blanket to your chest. 

You smile at him, though it’s more like a weeping willow than anything else, pulled down and giving an air of melancholy. “I love you too much to want anything less than a beautiful life for you,” you say. “I hope it includes me, but—”

“Includes you?” 

A part of him knows his mother would be horrified that he keeps interrupting a lady, but he can’t help himself.

“Includes you?” he repeats. “Of course it includes you. You can’t deprive me of anything, because you’re everything to me.” He offers you a have smile, one weighed down at a corner by chagrin. “If you don’t know that, I’ve been doin’ something wrong.” 

Your cool fingers fold around his. “I know,” you say. “You’re everything to me, too. And there’s nothing I want more than to be with you through each century to come.” 

Billy’s heart trips in his chest, and he wonders if you can hear it. “So…is that a yes?”

There is another moment of silence that stretches between the two of you like a bubble threatening to burst, and then you’re both laughing — nervous, thin laughter at first, which blooms into full belly-laughs. You lean forward and bury your face against his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap.

It’s moments like this where it’s so easy to forget everything. Not just losing you, or learning the truth of who you are, but the world itself. It all falls away, softening, blurring, until it’s just a matter of perspective to convince himself that the two of you are the only two people who exist, who matter. Billy buries his face against your hair, still grinning. 

“It sounds like you just proposed to me,” you say, another giggle erupting from your chest.

Your words make him chuckle all over again, because that’s exactly what he was thinking, too, exactly why he’s laughing so hard. It’s only funny because asking you to be his wife — which, by the way, is definitely something he’s considered — seems like a molehill compared to a mountain, when held up next to the idea of altering his very state of being. 

Billy sets you back by the shoulders, framing your face between his hands. “Darlin’,” he says, bringing on a fresh shower of giggles. “Will you do me the honor of becomin’ my…?”

He pauses, and whispers, “Is maker a good word?”

“Yes,” you whisper back.

He clears his throat. “Will you do me the honor — stop laughin’ — of becomin’ my maker?”

In the beat of silence between his question and your answer, Billy can feel the mirth melting away, like morning frost on the grass. It was funny, at first, but it really isn’t anymore. 

You touch his cheek. “Of course I will,” you say. “If that’s what you want.”

He presses his lips against yours, feeling the sensation of a snowflake alighting on his skin. “It’s the only thing I want,” he says. 

You wait until midnight, when the darkness of the night is deep, the air still and soft, and the stars are veiled by silvery-white cloud, so that their distant eyes are covered and it truly is just you and Billy. You sit up in bed, and Billy leans back into your arms, his head nestling on your shoulder. He feels the points of your teeth press against his skin, pausing for a moment more before they break the fragile barrier.

There is a moment of pain, of panic fueled by instinct — prey, realizing a moment too late, that he has been caught — and then his vision starts to blur. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, too loud, too fast, before it reaches such a fever pitch that his chest aches. And then, as darkness encroaches, it begins to slow. Thudthudthud becomes thus-thud-thud, and then thud — thud — thud. 

Thud…

He feels you pull away, soothing your tongue over the wound like a mother cat.

Thud…

Your hand cups his jaw, pinching gently at the corners of his mouth to part his lips.

…thud…

He catches the scent of rust, wafting close to his nose.

There is silence for a moment, stretching, growing so heavy that he can feel it like a creature crouching on his ribs.

…thud…

Something presses against his mouth, the rusty smell growing stronger. You pinch at the corners of his mouth again, and without thinking, his tongue comes out and encounters resistance, meeting something solid and cold. 

Something — damp and heavy, like the air after a storm. The rust is on his tongue now, coating his lips. His throat works, though he finds it hard to swallow. You coax his head back, and something starts to drip down.

Silence. 

Silence.

Silence.

…thud… 

It feels as though his mind has retreated to a distant corner, curling up on itself, watching from very far away. His mind waits for another thud, but there isn’t one. It waits and waits, but now there is just quiet. Stillness. 

This little spark of thought drifts for a while, like a dandelion seed buffeted around on the breeze. Enough of him is left to be aware of you cradling him in your arms, and it’s all he needs to feel safe. 

He doesn’t know how long it is before the spark of himself starts to grow brighter, illuminating more around it. He is aware, first, of how still he is, as if he’s bound hand and foot. But when he directs an idea down to his fingers, they move when instructed — if anything, the response is quicker, more fluid, than it was before. 

(Which is saying something for the man who is — or was — the fastest draw in the West.)

And then sound begins to return to him, slowly at first, a trickle, and then he realizes he can hear a familiar rustling noise, but it’s too clear for it to be what he thinks it is. It reminds him of a deer stepping gently, carefully, through foliage, but — can he hear all the way to the woods? 

Scents hit him next. He really had no idea that everything had its own unique smell. The linen of the sheets is different from the cotton of his shirt, from the flannel of your nightgown, and it’s a world away from the oak of your bed frame and the pine that makes up your cabin. He can smell the ashes of the fire in the stove, and the breeze drifting in through the window carries a veritable feast of aroma. 

Grass, trees, the air itself, and most deliciously, a feverish, twitching scent that comes even more strongly when he hears that rustling noise again. 

“Billy?” 

Your voice is soft, but at the same time the noise is such that it seems to fill his head for a moment. Maybe recalling your own first moments, you wait for a few moments. The sound settles.

You say, “Billy, open your eyes.” 

His eyelashes flutter, part. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it doesn’t matter. The moonlight alone is so bright that he has to squint. 

You help him sit up, and he looks at you. His lips part to expel a nonexistent breath at the sight of you. His eyesight, like his other senses, is so much more acute now; you look like an angel, luminous in a fall of silver light spilling through the window. 

His thoughts feel scrambled, twisted and flipped around, like someone took his head and shook it. Even his own name, or the events of just hours before, feel remote and strange, but as his eyes latch onto yours, the most important thing he knows comes back to him.

“You’re mine?” he says, and reaches out to touch your cheek.

You smile at him. “I’m yours,” you agree. “And you’re mine.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment or two, and Billy thinks he would be happy sitting here just like this. And then the breeze shifts again, bringing that hot, red scent close to him again. 

Fire leaps up in his throat, and it must show in his face, because you smile gently again. “Come with me,” you say, getting to your feet and holding out your hand. “I’ll show you how to hunt.”

His body responds to his desire to get up so fluidly that it feels like he blinks and he’s on his feet. Billy puts his hand in yours, and you lead him outside.

The world is bright and shining, as if you’ve emerged into the belly of a star. Scents, sounds and sensations wash over him in a wave, and he tightens his grip on your hand as though he’s afraid he’ll be swept away. He looks over at you, and you smile.

“Are you ready?” you ask.

For the hunt, he wonders? Or to begin the rest of eternity with you?

Either way, the answer is still the same. 

Billy smiles back at you. “Yes.” 

[skeletal-r3xie]

Plans for the rest of the day + yapping + how I feel about hitting my new LW

I have work today at 5, so obviously I’ll be doing that first. I don’t feel too great today about it, but it will be fine and hopefully it will fly by.

Straight after that, it’s off to the gym for some cardio, I will do 30 minutes on the treadmill and hopefully I actually remember to put my phone in my pocket this time for my steps lol.

Hitting a new LW has been greatly motivating, and knowing it only gets better from here no matter what is so wonderful.

I do need to increase my calorie intake, which I mentioned on my last post, but I will be seeing the same doctor I saw yesterday in a few weeks time, and I don’t want to lose too much weight in that time in case he notices it. So I will strictly be sticking to 800-1000 c4ls a day until this is all over, so I will still lose, but more slowly.

After the gym, I will go home and make myself some food, I have all my meals planned out for the day, and it should come to 800-900 c4ls (can’t remember exactly what it came to lol).

How do I feel about my new LW?

Physically - I’m cold, I’m not as hungry (I assume bc my stomach is shrinking), my heart beat is literally pounding sometimes, I’m short of breath, dizzy, my raynauds is flaring up wayyy more often, I didn’t shit for a week until I took some stool softeners, + some other things I can’t remember rn, OH and ofc I’m looking absolutely SNATCHED 😍🫶

Mentally/emotionally - I’m either completely apathetic or super emotional lmao, I cried the other day because I couldn’t find my gym leggings😭 I’m ill-motivated for almost everything except video games. I’m also very disassociated, I deal with disassociation anyways but it gets really bad when I ⭐️ve, everything looks and feels dream-like and I feel like I’m in my own little bubble. On a more positive side tho, I feel very much in control, somewhat peaceful, and idk, just nice I suppose.

Goodbye for now guys! I need to pack my gym back and get myself to work, I will update after I’m finished with the gym, love ya!

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 13 - ep. 17)

I had to binge quite a few episodes, otherwise I'd be dreaming of demons and lots of beautiful people crying in the snow (which, I probably will anyway D:)

We went from a relatively happy family outing slightly tainted with betrayal and misunderstandings to the depths of psychological hell and eternal self-loathing. The level of inner and outer torment has reached critical levels and I'm guessing it will only peak in the upcoming episodes, now that the secret is out and everyone knows why exactly Zhu Yan was and still is so intent on dying from Zhuo Yichen's hands (well, and dying in general). What kind of sins he had unwillingly committed.

This is ingenious, really. Ethically complex. Psychologically distorted. Heavily PTSD'ed on all sides. It seems the recipe for making everyone suffer unimaginable sufferings is to put the Big Bad Murderous Darkness into the most caring, attentive, gorgeous demon being, let him lose control over the aforementioned Murderous Darkness once in a while, then make him fall into the abyss of self-blaming and self-loathing, and then make him try to end his life by the hands of the people he has wronged and cares about. I mean wow-wow-wow, just writing it down conceptually is heavy, the way everyone played their roles was BEYOND, just beyond. Totally and fully believable.

It's like the worst case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but on a grander metaphysical scale. And it can't be solved just by one Great Demon dying - because such is the order of things that another being like that will be born, to bear the same fate. It's an interesting concept to put as one of the main motifs of the whole drama - the evil of the world and all the people that just exists by itself as a force, and one single person/vessel that has to curb it and sometimes channel it, without having any choice whatsoever. Or maybe there is? Now I'm wondering if Zhu Yan's idea about stopping the cycle of such vessels being born again and again is doable at all. In that kind of world where fate rules everything and everyone, and the options are quite limited, actually.

But I love how it's also always about the choice. It was Qing Geng's choice to stay with Fei willingly and get sealed together. And then, later, it was once again her free choice to stay in a dream and never leave the place. A-Heng didn't have a choice but to kill when he became a puppet, and Pei Sijing seemingly didn't have a choice when she killed him (but that still WAS her choice). Zhu Yan didn't have a choice when he lost control over the malicious energy, but he did have it afterward - what to do, how to live, or not live. How to punish himself severely inside out. So much of it is fate, destiny, guilt, unimaginable suffering. But even Zhuo Yichen makes his choice - despite his own pain and loss, he chooses not to kill Zhu Yan because that won't really solve anything or make anyone happy (while alive he could still do some good for the people who suffered because of him). I love how the show explores this topic of free will despite everything happening around the characters that's out of their control.

We still don't know what those Chongwu guys want, but Li Lun seems to be bearing quite a grudge towards his ex former bff. I mean, he was so emo before Zhu Yan took him out to see the mortal world and didn't want anything to do with it at first. I wonder what happened between the two of them. Well, he later wanted to get free (which is understandable), but merging the mortal and demon worlds is never a good idea, nope, so I see why the Goddess would imprison him.

I'm wondering how Zhao Yuanzhou is functioning at all with that level of grief he's carrying around. Like getting up, walking, talking, even smiling sometimes. Those must be some hardcore demonic superpowers, because someone else would have been crushed completely and totally by the amount of pain (but then again, he approached Zhuo Yichen and the rest of them only to make his deathwish come true, so that could have been his fuel before).

And after everything, the show managed to joke about cutting sleeves XD nearly making Yinglei quite literally cut his sleeve for baby Bai Jiu. That the show would even go there is risky enough, but this - my jaw slightly dropped))) And between two sweetest brotherly brothers, ahah)))

It's been quite a trip, I will need to digest this whole sequence of events. I still can't get over the scenes and dialogues when Zhu Yan was prepping Zhuo Yichen to kill or subdue him. And what about that ability to be immune to his demonic word spells? I wonder how it works and what he had to do for it to work. Also, the scene with the scars on Zhu Yan's back... Heartbreak all over, everyone is crying, hating but not fully totally, probably loving as well, but not forgiving. It's COMPLEX, uh.

[asarigg]

I just wanna talk about how Aoba would navigate having DID...and how he would do it in regards to like Koujaku..and you're a like-minded individual 💪😼. Anyways anyways, in all seriousness I do headcanon Aoba has having DID. I'm pretty sure Sly is an alter (and that's another reason why he does go by Sly), and Shiroba could be an alter but I haven't thought about it all too much. I think in a domestic situation Aoba would have to learn to get along with Sly and not like surprise him or whatever because that would definitely make it worse. And while I think Sly got them into a lot of trouble during their teen years, I also see him as sort of the protector of them and of Aoba. I think that Aoba experienced a lot of trauma during his childhood and created Sly, but Aoba was not aware of Sly as an Alter until much much later in his life when he finds out he has scrap. I don't really have a theory yet for why Sly fronted for most of Aoba's teen years but I'm working on it. But I know that whenever Aoba got into his "accident" it kinda threatened Sly a little bit so he backed off of Aoba and just kinda let him be.

As for why I think he also acts a protector depending on the way you look at Sly, is for parts in the game where he fronts. Specifically during Mink's route, when Sly shows up I believe it was a way of protecting Aoba from experienceing further trauma. Sly did not want him to get anything negative from that situation. I do wish we got to see more of Sly in a less-violent light because I genuinely do believe he serves an important role in Aoba's life.

I think once Aoba becomes aware of Sly, he realizes that they need to learn to navigate life together because Sly isn't going anywhere. So this is where his life with Koujaku comes in...hear me out hear me out. I think that like sometimes while the two of them were going about life Sly just starts fronting sometimes and I think he likes to playfully tease Koujaku and just like messes around with him; not in a bad way but in an endearing way. I thinkSly gets jealous of Aoba sometimes, especially when he sees him getting positive attention from Koujaku. And on the other hand, I think Koujaku would originally have a hard time kinda getting along with Sly but after a while he becomes okay with him and realizes that if he truly loves Aoba he's gonna have to accept that Sly is always going to be a part of him.

This part is just kinda fluff but I think after Sly gets to know Koujaku, he's super lovey-dovey with him while he's fronting. So like he'll like to cuddle Koujaku and give him hugs and even pecks on the cheek; he also play's with Koujaku's hair a lot. I think Sly finds Koujaku's tattoos to be very interesting and likes to admire them a lot. I think that's all I have at the moment. Thanks for coming to Yap session.

I pretty much agree with almost everything you said haha

I don't know much much about DID but I've always seen Sly as the protector because like you said he always appears when Aoba's in trouble. Not only being physically attacked but also when he's mentally exhausted as we see in his adolescence and in Koujaku's bad ending. Aoba had experienced loneliness and abandonment twice already at the church, then his parents leaving him, so watching Koujaku go probably provoked him a substantial amount of anxiety and restlessness knowing what it meant and was scared of going back to those feelings. Mixed with actually being lonely, it was basically the cherry on top, making his mind step back to "rest" and Sly taking control because someone had to. Kinda funny that low key Koujaku provoked both of them? lol

I feel like the image people usually have of him, specially if they don't play the true route, makes them think that he comes out when there's violence because he likes it. Which, like, he does, but he doesn't take control because of that, he's just protecting Aoba. Makes me wonder why wouldn't he do the same when Aoba gets kidnapped by Vitrip, other than for the sake of kink I can only think that it would be giving them what they want I guess. It's not like they aren't satisfied anyway so it's ass regardless.

It's really nice to think about Aoba realizing that and coming at peace with Sly. I guess he has two protectors, Sly protects him from outsiders, and Ren protects him from himself. And ABSOLUTELY, I wish we had more of Sly ugh 😭😭

I'm always thinking about all the possibilities on how would Sly behave and interact with Aoba and Koujaku in the good ending and I'm always changing stuff, but as you mentioned him messing with Koujaku and being jealous gets in the mix almost every time. I feel like he'd have a lot of trouble confronting his feelings towards Koujaku and not being able to accept them, specially considering that when he gets to control their body it's mostly in a violent environment, so when he meets Koujaku's tenderness it creates conflict. I've always seen the "them not getting along" in the beginning coming mostly from this, so I think it would be more of a Sly causing trouble thing, although I have to confess sometimes I have trouble with this. As a Slyjaku soldier when I read Slyjaku fics in the trenches many times this conflict was written as some really aggressive interaction based on how much Koujaku would hate him for not being sweet and istg *turns around and cries*. The game's writing didn't do the greatest job and it's so widespread that Koujaku gets angry easily when in reality it was mostly for Aoba's well being.

Considering the advances he does with his trauma throughout their relationship and what he says about "loving Sly" when Aoba "mentions" him he'd have a much better reaction to him. I feel like after the initial shock of knowing that the "arrogant and violent" personality Aoba was talking about was actually a real thing he'd try to get to know him, but he doesn't really know what to act like in front of him because he gets mixed reactions from Sly. He'd give him space to express himself and have time to open up, because it seems like Sly rejects his friendlier advances. He ultimately understands him as a different person so maybe Sly doesn't really want to be with him.

Sly on the other hand was kind of already there (?) when they met so he does have memories of him. I wonder if he'd blame him somehow for leaving. If, like Aoba, he had feelings for him deep down for longer than he'd like to admit. So living a tender, comfortable life makes him feel weird, not having to fight someone for once is weird, he isn't used to it, so he rejects it. Something in him wants it, another doesn't, so his reaction towards it is a mix of both as well. He wants Koujaku's love, he needs it, but he feels like it's fake, that he doesn't deserve it, it isn't for him. Even tho it's his distorted vision, maybe Koujaku's forcing it, but doesn't really feel it, because when he sees the way he acts with Aoba it's completely different. To him Koujaku's always been there, but he just met Sly so of course he's more distant. Anyway I think I'm talking too much and I'm losing track of what I'm writing to be honest.

I have a small hc about Sly and Koujaku's tattoos. Aoba kisses his tattoos and scars to try heal his wounds and his memories because he doesn't want Koujaku to suffer. I like to think that when Sly looks at them instead of feeling sorry for him like Aoba does, the thought that runs around his head is mostly just annoyance about the idea that Koujaku might think about someone else that is not him. So Aoba kisses them to make Koujaku think of his caresses instead of the pain, and Sly would do some Sly thing like disgustingly licking them or biting them so when he sees his tattoos he thinks of him instead of literally anything else because the only thing that should be filling his thoughts is Sly ☝ or something like that

[misteria247]

Fiddleford never in his life thought he'd ever get a chance to do something like this. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn't think he'd ever do, but somehow, he'd managed to experience them. All thanks to the woman standing next to him. The older man looked at her, the blonde who had changed his life. She was holding onto his arm, her flowing white dress clinging to her. A bouquet of flowers was in her grasp, and her hair was pinned up behind her veil. She looked beautiful, which made sense, giving it's her big day.

The day when she was officially becoming Mrs. Pines.

Fiddleford felt his chest get a bit tight with emotion. It felt like just yesterday he'd met her, the awkward, slightly mean 12 near 13 year old. When she'd been quiet and suspicious of the world and people around her. A girl who had decided to accompany him on one of his trips to the junkyard and, as a result, changed his life forever. At that moment, as he stared at the woman Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket was, he recalled all the firsts he had with her.

He recalled the first time when she called him dad. A slip of the tongue, in a moment of peace and domestic calm. They'd been working on a project together, with Fidds focused on a piece of delicate weld work.

"Hey Paz, can you pass me that there tool?"

Fidds gestured towards said tool. Paz got up, making her way to it, grabbing it and bringing it back to him.

"Here you go dad."

She said, not thinking about it. Fiddleford about dropped the tool she just gave him, and Pacifica froze, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"I....I mean-"

She scrambled, trying to save face. However, it wasn't necessary when she caught sight of the fond grin.

"Thank you hon. I appreciate it."

He said smoothly, not calling attention to it. Knowing how Pacifica could be. It was that decision that opened up the gates. Before he realized it, she was calling him dad all the time. The word sounding like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was meant to be. It wouldn't be until months later, when he was working on making her a pair of new welding gloves that the weight of the word finally hit him. That despite everything he'd done in his life and out of everyone in the world, Pacifica had chosen to call him dad. The tears that were shed that night were of ones of gratitude and happiness unlike anything he'd experienced in a very long time.

'She really did brighten up my world, this little lady.'

He thought fondly and affectionately as he recalled another first he'd had with her. The first time she'd come to him, crying and distraught and seeking him out. An argument, harsh and cruel, had happened between her and her biological father. Upsetting her so badly that she'd run away from her house. Heading straight to the manor where she knocked on his door. Startling him awake. When he'd opened the door, the sight of Pacifica being so broken and covered in tears had just about shattered his heart right there and then. He brought her inside, concerned and agitated to figure out a way to fix this. To bring back the confident, intelligent, sassy teen he was used to. He was broken out of his rushing thoughts by two small arms wrapping around him.

"Fidds...am.....am I a disgrace....?"

Pacifica asked, sounding so small and broken. The world seemed to stop as he processed her question, and with it, a burning fire of red hot rage piercing his chest. How dare that man make this girl feel like that? How dare he tear this bright, sharp, witty girl down because he couldn't control her? How dare he even have the nerve to call himself her father when all he did was hurt and crush her?

"Pacifica Northwest, you are not a disgrace. You wanna know what you are?"

The hick asked, not even waiting for her to respond before he continued. Fired up something fierce.

"You are talented. You are bright and smart and funny. You are kind and loving, and you bring so many people so much joy. You are loved, and you are wonderful just the way you are. And I couldn't be prouder to have you as a daughter."

Pacifica broke down at that, clinging to Fiddleford like a drowning person would with a life vest. And the inventor clung back just as tightly. Holding her together and protecting her from the world as she broke down. Finally letting out all the hurt and misery she'd kept inside for so long. When she was done, she'd spent the night sleeping in Fiddleford's bed while he took the small sofa. Watching her sleep, he vowed to protect this girl with everything he had. Because she was his now.

The older man returned to the present moment when he felt Pacifica grab his arm a bit.

"You alright honeybee?"

He asked her, his voice soft. He watched as she bit her bottom lip, nervous.

"What....what if Dipper gets tired of me dad?"

Paz asked, her voice shaking slightly. Fidds eyes went wide, understanding shining in them.

"Paz sweetheart, that boy is head over heels for you. If he was tired of you, we wouldn't be here right now. Remember when you first started dating? You thought the same thing back then."

The mechanic said as his daughter's flashed with recognition. For Fiddleford, it was still fresh in his mind that day. Another first, he noted that he once again shared with her. She'd been 16 at the time, and she and Dipper had finally became official. It'd been a long time coming if you asked anyone who knew the couple. Fidds had spotted it way back when they were young, when he would go to help out Stanford and Stanley with something, and Pacifica would tag along. It was so obvious that Dipper and Pacifica were smitten despite how young they were. So it was no big shocker to him when she'd come to him one day saying she liked the Pines boy. However, what did surprise him was when Pacifica came over one day, looking nervous and uneasy, and before he even greeted her had been met with.

"Dad, do.....do you think that Dipper really likes me? I know we're dating now, but what.....what if it's because of me being a Northwest? What....what if he doesn't actually like me?"

Fiddleford reeled, stunned. Did she not see the way he looked at her? Did she not notice the way Dipper always wanted to be by her side? Did she not have a clue that Dipper was so smitten with her that everyone and their grandmother could tell? Collecting his thoughts, he gave her a stern but fatherly look. Gently rubbing her upper arm to comfort her.

"Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket. That boy is head over heels in love with you. You know, as well as I do, that Dipper Pines isn't the type of man to go after something unless he's absolutely sure about it. And I can promise you sugar bear, you ain't got nothing to worry about. Heck, I'd bet on my old banjo that it wouldn't be much of a stretch if one day he might marry you, I reckon."

The genius hick said serious and confident. Pacifica went red, embarrassed, but the sparkle was back in her gaze, and her confidence was no longer waning. And that was all that mattered to him.

"Oh good lord, I remember that conversation. You always look so smug still to this day being proven that you're right...."

Pacifica also said, recalling that day. The father, daughter duo, let out a few chuckles, feeling warm at the memory. Fidds gave his daughter's hand a squeeze, gaze soft and full of fatherly love and pride.

"And I still am right sugar cube. I rarely ever wrong."

Fiddleford watched as her own gaze softened, love and fondness shining bright. The once quiet insecurities now silenced by the reassurance of her father. The two were broken out of their moment by the sound of the tune of 'Here comes the bride'. He felt her shimmy a bit, her arm intertwined with his as she took a deep breath to prepare. Looking at her father once again, she gave him a small look.

"Well, how do I look dad?"

She asked.

"You look stunning hon. You ready?"

He asked smiling a bit wider.

"Yeah, I'm ready......promise you won't let go till we're up there dad?"

Paz asked. And in that moment she was once again 12, and he a younger old man, intertwined by the very stars.

"Promise darlin'."

With that sentence Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket and her father Fiddleford Mcgucket finally took their first steps towards her future. Where the love of her life stood at the end waiting for her.

Fiddleford never expected to experience these moments. If you asked him way back when he was younger if he believed he'd ever experience fatherhood. He would have told you no. But if asked now....he'd smile the most bright smile, eyes twinkling with a light that wasn't there before and tell you yes. And he couldn't wait to experience even more firsts in this perfect future with the one girl who made it all worth while.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Thinking of the Nie disciple that told Nie Mingjue it was Meng Yao who stayed behind to clean up corpses on the battlefield today.

Nie Mingjue didn't just randomly stumble upon poor lil meowyao eating bread in the novel, he was already looking for him to thank and reward him for his work.

That's what makes it so fun that nieyao's first conflict will end up being about someone else taking credit for Meng Yao's work.

And I'm sure that Nie Mingjue's actual opinions on plagiarism are a lot more nuanced, all we really get from him in this scene is "well you shouldn't kill someone over it!" which leaves a lot of room for what punishments he thinks are appropiate. But I bet that it isn't occuring to him in this moment that the only reason he knows Meng Yao at all, the only reason he got such a capable deputy, is that he noticed someone was taking care of the dead and cared enough to want to know their name. And then the Nie disciples didn't lie to him. The disciple he asked could have said "it was me, Zongzhu" to rise in the ranks himself, but he didn't. He went and asked others, who all also could have taken the credit, but they didn't. Someone saw Meng Yao working and decided to be honest about it and that simple decision is the catalyst for Meng Yao becoming Nie Mingjue's deputy.

Meng Yao can't just work hard to get results, others have to acknowledge that work. If they don't, it's as if he didn't do anything at all.