#if everyone searched for one home then i would have so many options!

[jazzzzzzhands]

Hey!

So we lost our home in the hurricane!

We are currently doing well and living for free in a hotel!! 😁

BUT

it won't last forever.

We only have 73 days left to live for free.

We are looking for a home

Can you help me search for a home?

I'm looking for a 3 bed 2 bath around the Brandon area in Florida.

We could really use 1000 or less a month

Preferably less

I want a home 🩷

I would appreciate any help you could give me.

You have always been so kind and helpful to me and I treasure you!!!🩷🩷🩷

To everyone!!

Love, Jazz🩷🩷🩷🍎🍎🍎

[ferrstappen]

Dad Lando has my whole heart 😭😭😭 could you write something of the drivers first time meeting Amelia? Or her fist time in the paddock?.. anything I just love dad Lando and your writing style 🧡

meet & greet l dad!Lando Norris x reader

The existence of baby Amalia Norris, no middle name just like her dad, was a well known secret, but a secret nonetheless.

There were never rumors about you being pregnant, but when the season started, mechanics and staff of every team, tv channel, you name it, started talking about Lando Norris and how he supposedly had a baby with his girlfriend.

Norris? No way, he's still a child himself

There's no way, the girlfriend would have to raise two babies and she looks smarter than that.

McLaren team members, especially those closer to Lando, were often asked about it by other people, but they were warned by the high commands to keep it private until Lando and you wanted to confirm it. Even if Adam Norris was often gushing about his youngest granddaughter and how she smiled just for him.

Max Verstappen once unwired himself after a reporter asked him about it. Carlos once pretended he didn't hear and the next time he just asked for another question.

The closest people on the grid already met her, she was six months old already and was completely used to the presence of uncle Max, uncle Carlos, uncle Oscar and uncle Danny, others had seen Amalia once or twice, but didn't really have the honorary uncle title.

There were so many talks between you and Lando, him being the most reticent to bringing your daughter to the paddock, not only because of the noises and movements, but someone was going to get a picture eventually, her face being everywhere, on stranger’s camera rolls and Instagram accounts.

"Why don't we make an announcement on our terms, then?"

Lando understood your idea, he really did, but he didn't owe anything to anyone. Yes, in the early months of your relationship he'd be posting stories and pictures to his .jpg account, but he never openly talked about you, your name and relationship was one of the few prohibited subjects for reporters and his PR team made sure everyone knew it.

But, this time was different because this was his daughter, and she was too precious, too beautiful for people to just look at her perfectly shaped face, beautifully colored eyes, adorably cute pout, even when she was drooling from giggling too much or sleeping to deeply.

But it was Silverstone, this wasn’t an ordinary occasion or an ordinary race, it was his home race and this time both you and him knew it was the right time to bring her to the paddock, just for the race day and trying to keep her out of the public’s eyes and constant cameras following his every step.

The night before you were searching her closet to find the perfect outfit for the ever changing English weather. Lando was holding Amalia on his arms, giggling along her as she played with the messy curls on top of his head.

“What do you want to wear for your first race, pretty girl?” Lando asked his daughter who just stared at him and enjoyed the rocking motion of his arms.

A white dress with orange daisies seemed like the perfect option, with one of her daddy’s papaya bucket hats made just for her. It was the perfect outfit for what was going to be a very memorable day.

And of course it was.

At first, fans and press were surprised Lando didn’t arrive on the track with his McLaren, instead his dad was driving a black Mercedes, polarized windows that only caught a glimpse of you through the front glass. Lando made sure everything was fine with the credentials before exiting the car, drawing the attention to himself at the same time Adam prepared the baby stroller and you placed Amalia, laughing at Lando’s dad who refused to give you the stroller.

You shyly waved your hand to the people saying your name, greeting some known faces before finally reaching the McLaren garage, where Zak was the first one to reach Adam and carefully lifting the visor and greeting Amalia who instantly recognized him.

She soon started crying, demanding to be picked up and instantly stopping when she noticed people were staring at her in awe, new faces smiling at her and waving, but the biggest smiled appeared when she noticed her papa, wearing a matching hat and taking her from your arms.

That’s how people got to meet baby Amalia Norris, who sported the same mischievous glint on her eyes, and loudly giggled when uncle Carlos arrived to the papaya garage. He was too patient with her, letting the baby play with his fingers, grab his Ferrari hat, wrap her fists on his hair and Carlos just kept talking as if his niece wasn’t tugging on his hair.

It was all a blur when Lando got to the parc fermé, parking on the big number one place, almost falling from the car before jumping into the crowd of papaya mechanics and staff waiting for him, and everyone noticed how his eyes lit up when he saw his dad and you away from the crowd, with his baby girl clapping her hands and letting out the loudest and happiest giggles, especially when Lando took her from your arms and leaving a loud kiss on her cheek before trying to hide her face on his neck and reaching to you, kissing your lips.

He received his trophy, sang his national anthem and ended the day handing his precious camera to Daniel.

It was already dark, most people were leaving as Lando grabbed your waist with one arm, the trophy with another as you held Amalia in your hip, in front of Lando’s winner car.

lando.jpg: silverstone 2024. do I need to say more?

ps: please do not repost pictures of our daughter online, I’m sharing this because it’s one of the best days of my life and wanted to celebrate with my favorite girls (and my car).

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 2

Part 1

The great part about Rhiana the Witch’s cozy cottage outside that small town was the privacy. Not just when her most wriggly meals ran; but because it was purposefully hidden. The faerie circles just outside the town messed with maps and satellites making her little place a safe haven from the enemies and ex-lovers experiments she’d made over her many centuries of being alive. But now that she was leaving to get closer to you, she was uncomfortably exposed. 

“Hey Rhi-Rhi you okay? You’ve looked so nervous since I picked you up.”

“Oh I’m fine it’s just all these people make me so nervous.”

“I guess it is kind of overwhelming.”

“Maybe you can take me somewhere private. Like your place maybe?”

She thinks it’s worth the risk as she’s allowed to use the same excuse to cling to your side. Pretend to be distraught when she gets hit on to have you pretend to be dating to drive off desperate and confident weirdos. She eats that up. Unfortunately though, her open fawning over you leaves her unguarded from soul searches. An old technique lovers of olde used to unite over long periods. Naturally, trouble just happens to be in the 500-meter radius and is well off enough to get in close to foil her plans.

“Hello there. I’m your new neighbor. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone since I’m completely new to the area.”

“Oh hi, nice to meet you! I’m (Y/n) and this is Rhi–”

“(Y/n) you don’t have to introduce me I’m only visiting.”

“That’s such a shame Rhiana. I would’ve hoped we could…get to know each other better.”

Trouble is one of her craziest exes–Narciness. He was a nymph and she was a witch. Back then, it made sense that they were perfect for one another. Both were a gorgeous couple, immortal and with plenty of magic. Not to mention he didn’t even mind that she ate humans for her youthful appearance. But it just wasn’t right for Rhea. Just as his name would suggest there was a deep-seated and well-masked narcissism that showed its ugly head at the worst times. She ultimately took the very mature option that she’s learned over the centuries when it comes to major obstacles. She ran. 

“Nice to see you again Rhiana. It’s always nice to know my girlfriend decided to disappear from me the last few centuries!”

“Quit whining. I left you a note didn’t I?”

“A note cursed to explode with a memory-wipe spell the second I finished it. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to leave me.”

“Oh genius, you’re finally getting it!”

“That can’t be right! You and I…we’re perfect together! And you instead cheat on me with the most imperfect human!”

“Do not ever talk about my (Y/n) like that!”

She’s almost glad he’s crazy enough not to hide his intentions. Had he been cut from the same cloth as she-she would have kept silent until after she devoured her prey. But Narciness is an idiot who so clearly had it out for you that she wouldn’t let him live another day without singing your praises. Unfortunately, the thing about killing a nymph is that it wasn’t easy, a child of the old powers of nature. He’s survived a lot of things and can withstand some of Rhea’s most fatal potions. And especially when she’s far from home spending time with you, she’s a little shorthanded. So she’ll come up with another remedy. 

“Hey Narc, I didn’t know you went shopping here.”

“I think instead of solely getting the organic stuff I figured I’d swing by here every once in a while. The gallery is truly immaculate.”

“Good for you. C’mon (Y/n) we’re going to miss our movie.”

“Oh right! Well, it was nice seeing you, Narc!”

“Oh (Y/n) before you go, there's something I wanted to tell you.”

“What?”

“I just love your smile.”

“Oh, thanks !”

“Let’s go, (Y/n).”

The thing she found that sparked her attraction to him was his smile. It lit up the room like yours and in the end, it’ll be what protects you from his violent protections of ‘their relationship’. Unfortunately, now that she’s used a spell to shift his affection she’ll have to figure out some way to end his life before he turns violent against her. Too bad it’ll be hard to figure out in the span of two days. Now she can miss her plane and extend her stay a little while but it’s just not enough time. Not enough time for her to make sure ‘Narc’ doesn’t try anything, she’ll have to do something drastic. 

“Narciness I was hoping we could find some common ground.”

“With you? Babe, didn’t I tell you I was done? Your old news.”

“For you, I might be but I’m the hottest thing in (Y/n)’s world.”

“...I see. So we’re officially competing then. Would you like to fight this out now?”

“I’d like to try something new. A gesture of peace, if you will.”

“...oven mitts? You plan to make me bake? Why would I concern myself with such a lowly task?”

“Did I tell you (Y/n) has a sweet tooth?”

“...”

Rhea the Witch considers herself lucky her ex considered cooking for himself as a job for ‘someone uglier than him.’ She’s also glad she gets to stay another day due to food poisoning. Who knew nymphs gave witches so much nausea?

“Oh Rhea were you eating that bloody meat again? I keep telling you that rare steak is great but you got to make sure it’s at least cooked a little bit.”

“I know hon. I should really think about maintaining my diet better.”

“Yeah, I’m just glad this is happening now. Instead of on a plane or bus where I wouldn’t be there for you.”

“Yes…(Y/n) what do you think about me staying another week or so. So many things keep happening, it feels as though fate is telling me.”

She may have some serious indigestion but you were hers and the threat was…toast. For Rhea, her reward was being pampered by you. Finally able to rest with her love by her side. Nothing was better and nothing could bother her. Not even the distant thought of the new owner to the place next door. 

“I noticed your plants. I’m not a huge fan of nature but maybe you can show me the ropes. What do you say, neighbor?”

[fatbiatchforever]

Lies (Pt. 2)

Just wanna quickly say thanks to everyone who liked the previous one and all the support. Hope you guys like this one and feel better lol.

Taglist: @sapphirebarnes @mrsnikstan

"Bucky?"

You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the light seeping in from the hallway and let out a yawn.

Bucky smirked as he leaned against the door frame. "Someone's excited to see me."

"No, no, I am." You pulled on his wrist and opened the door wider to let him in. You chuckled as you turned back, noticing Bucky's eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "First time in your own home?"

Bucky's tense face softened into a shy smile. "Just missed the place."

You closed the distance between, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips softly against his. "Not me?"

Bucky's hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. His breath was warm against your face. "I could show you how much I missed you."

Leo's barks startled you, causing you to jump out of Bucky's hold. By the looks of it, Bucky was just as taken aback.

You walked over to your dog to soothe him. "Leo, it's okay, it's Buck." But Leo wasn’t having it; he lunged toward Bucky, his barking getting louder by the second. It stopped only when Bucky pushed him down and muffled his mouth.

"BUCKY!" you screamed, immediately trying to push him away from Leo. But what were you against a super soldier? Especially when Bucky’s eyes had that eerie focus that scared you. Leo's whimpers filled the apartment, along with your pleas. "Bucky, please, stop, you're hurting him."

As though Bucky snapped out of a trance, he stepped back, walking away from you and your dog. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that."

You gently lifted Leo's face, searching for any scratches or injuries that Bucky's metal arm might have caused. Leo got up and hid behind you, his whimpers breaking your heart. "Why would you do that, Bucky?"

Bucky gulped and looked down. "His barks were ringing in my ears."

You took a deep breath, balling your shaking hands into fists. "I don’t know, Leo never acts this way. He's always so happy to see you."

You noticed Leo walking to the side of the couch, where he usually hid when Bucky wanted to take him out for morning walks.

"You still shouldn't have done that," you hissed at Bucky.

Bucky nodded before walking to your room and closing the door behind him.

---

It had been a few days since Bucky returned. He seemed fine after a shower, almost like the incident had never happened. Leo stayed away from Bucky every chance he got, even though Bucky tried everything to get closer to him.

Still, it was so unlike him in every way. He was always quiet, but since he’d been back, he’d been even more silent. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him, he seemed frustrated, but the moment he noticed your gaze, his eyes would light up and his lips would curve into a smile. His usual kisses and lingering looks felt heavier than usual. 

You wanted to chalk it up to the aftereffects of a tough mission and him trying to hide it from you, but you needed to know what was going on. So you went to your main source.

"Sam!"

You hugged him, then stepped back to look at his outfit. "Why are you in a suit? I'm not pitching you another Captain America Lube Line."

Sam sighed. "And thank God for that. I need to be at an event in an hour, and they said I needed to look smart. When do I not look smart?"

"Uhm, probably when you agreed to a Captain America Lube Line. There were just so many options."

"I didn’t agree to it; my assistant did. How many times do I have to say it before you guys believe me?"

You laughed. "Thanks for coming."

Sam straightened up in his chair. "Of course. Why your office, though?"

"Only place I don’t have to worry about Cap fans or Bucky. Would’ve called, but I know better than to ask about missions over the phone."

"What did he do?"

You sighed. "Nothing, really. He had a freak-out with Leo, but after that, he's been fine. It's probably nothing, and I'm worried for no reason, but..."

"If he’s not okay, he’ll try his best to hide it from you," Sam interrupted.

You nodded.

"The mission was good. Everything went well, and he seemed fine."

You let out a shaky breath. "Okay. I was afraid you’d say that."

Concern etched onto Sam’s face. "Afraid?"

You looked up at him. "I know he looks fine and is acting fine too, but something feels off, Sam. It’s just frustrating that I can’t figure it out. It’s frustrating that Bucky seems to be putting on a show."

"Did you talk to him?"

You scoffed. "Obviously, but he said he’s fine. Everything’s good. He lost his house keys too."

"Y/N—"

"Sam, I know it could happen to anyone, but Bucky knows where his spare key is. When I asked him about the keys, he didn’t even mention thinking about getting the spare one."

Before you could spiral further, Sam stopped you. "He probably forgot about it. All of us forget things, that’s normal. Bucky does have hard times after missions. It could be that, or he’ll end up telling you what’s wrong in a day or two. You’ve just got to let him come to you."

You nodded. "Yeah, you’re right."

Sam sighed. "Listen, if you’re worried, I’ll talk to him tomorrow, see if anything seems weird to me."

You smiled. "Thank you, really."

"Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else you need me for. I need to leave to look 'smart.'"

You laughed. "I’m sure you can pull it off."

"If you need me, you know you can—"

"Yep, yep, I know."

---

"Y/N?"

You turned to the voice at the door and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing?"

You wiped your hands on the side of your apron and walked toward him. "I made dinner for us. Thought I'd surprise you with a home date."

You laughed at Bucky's confused look before guiding him to his chair.

"I know things have been weird since you came back. I just want us to forget about the weirdness and go back to the way things were."

Bucky smiled before he pulled you to sit on his lap. "I want that too. I love you." Just as he leaned in for a kiss, you pulled away. "Sorry, the steak’s going to burn."

You rushed back to the stove and plated everything. Bucky opened a bottle of wine as you placed the plates on the table and sat across from him.

"This looks amazing, sweetheart," Bucky praised.

"Dig in!"

You watched as Bucky took his first bite and sighed in delight. "Mmm, so good."

You laughed. "You're so silly."

You both ate in silence, exchanging shy smiles each time one of you caught the other staring.

"You know, you still haven’t told me any stories from the mission. You always love telling me about them." You pouted.

Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours. "I'm sorry, must have slipped my mind. The mission was good. I got all the intel I needed. Hydra was a bitch as usual, surprise, surprise."

You laughed when Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Do you remember me talking about Triple S?" Bucky asked.

You shook your head.

"Ah, well, they’re trying to do something with the super soldier serum again."

You nodded and finished your glass of wine. "Want more?" you asked as you got up to get another bottle. "Nah, I’m fine."

You retrieved another bottle from the fridge and opened it. "You're a good Bucky."

Bucky laughed. "A good Bucky? You're already slurring your words, sweetheart. Should you be drinking more?"

You shook your head and pointed at him. "No, I meant what I said. You look just like him."

The drop in his expression sent a chill down your spine.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about." The change in his tone was alarming, but you knew you were getting close, so you prodded further.

You laughed. "I know Bucky better than I’ve known anyone my whole life. And if you really were him, you’d know that Bucky would never share mission details with me. Or call me sweetheart."

Your heart pounded as the man stood up, slamming his fists on the table, his eyes burning with anger.

"A plus on the looks, but you’re nothing like my Bucky."

He lunged toward you, his metal fingers wrapping around your neck. "What did you do?" The man who looked just like your husband asked, his tone so low it was easily masked under your heavy breaths. "Tell me where he is."

He laughed as he increased the pressure around your neck. "I know there are people coming, Y/N. Call. Them. Off."

"Tell me where Bucky is," you choked out, your fingers gripping his wrist, trying to focus on your breathing.

"You’re forgetting that I can snap your neck right now." He increased the pressure and pushed you up before slamming you into the wall. You shrieked in pain, feeling the blood trickling down your face. "Even if they find him, he’ll come back to find his wife long gone. Do you want that? Do you want your husband to find you torn apart limb for limb, huh?"

Before you could reply, you heard a crash, and you fell to the floor. You slumped against the wall, gasping for breath, barely able to see as blood clouded your vision, and all the noise around you made you dizzier.

Your body felt weak, your head pounding with pain. You struggled to keep your eyes open. You heard Sam’s voice. You heard him calling your name as if he were miles away, but you could see bits of him in your blurred vision.

Before you slipped into unconsciousness, all you could manage to say was, "We have to find Bucky."

[hihhasotherfixations]

John Price headcanons sfw & nsfw

I don’t usually do headcannons so please bear with me 👉👈

I hope you enjoy them tho :3 Will I use many of these in my writing? Yes, yes I will. These are both in general as well as him with you ;3

Part 2

Sfw:

He has an entire routine for his beard. Keeps it trimmed regularly and takes very good care of it, which causes it to feel very nice and soft to the touch.

Absolutely LOVES when you’re the one doing it though. It’s a small act of love that he can never get enough of. Whether you’re the one trimming it or just putting some products in. It’s a moment where he can sit on the bath rim and have you stand between his legs - or the other way around where he props you up on the sink and stands in between your legs. He just places his hands on your hips and closes his eyes, trusting you with something so important to him. It’s a very intimate thing that he treasures.

He has reading glasses. I won’t budge on this. Square(rectangle) ones with a very thin frame. Tends to forget whenever he puts them on his head and proceeds to go searching for them for five minutes.

He is very warm blooded. Always runs hot like a furnace. A blessing in the winter, a curse in the summer. Especially because he loves to cuddle.

Has a little trinket on his desk representing each of the 141 (+ Nik, Laswell and Farah). Be it a gift they gave to him or something that reminds him of them. There’s something for everyone. It clutters the edge of his desk a bit but it’s worth it because whenever the paperwork gets too much, he can just look at the little shrine he built and smile.

His love language is physical touch and quality time. While he loves giving you gifts and being romantic too, nothing beats holding you in his arms while you cuddle on the couch or in bed.

Speaking of- this man absolutely adores you. He doesn’t think he deserves the love you give him because of the things he’s done in his life. But every day he sees you, you prove that you do love him and he wants to return that love twice over.

His biggest fear is coming home after deployment to an empty house. Finding a letter on the table stating you can’t wait for him any longer. He’d understand, of course. But it would crush him.

While we’re on the sad train already- he suffers frequent nightmares due to PTSD. Feels really guilty for waking you up but also can’t stop himself from seeking your comfort after one of them - craving it. If you allow him to (he wouldn’t bring it up unless you suggested it), he’ll call you if he’s out on deployment or at base. Give him that privilege to phone you awake just to comfort him? There is nothing that man won’t do for you anymore.

He is terrified of being the one to leave you too though. He knows that if he’s ever faced with the option to sacrifice himself for one of the 141, he would. But it also breaks his heart because it would mean he’d leave you for them. He tries not to think about it like that, but it’s a constant conflict in his mind.

While he’s probably more likely to be a dog person, I can also really see him with cats just curled up on his chest. Once again, this man is always warm. The little felines will search him out like a bloodhound, preferring him over laying by the radiator.

THIS 👏 MAN 👏 CAN 👏 COOK 👏

And he loves to do it too. His idea of a hobby is either reading, building models or cooking. You can often find him in the kitchen with a cook book, making a five star meal. Loves to see your reaction to the taste of it, makes him proud of himself.

Also, yeah, he likes building models :3. Miniatures. In his spare time you can find him on the couch, bent over the coffee table with his reading glasses perched on his nose while he’s building a ww2 bomber plane out of matchsticks from some random pattern he found online. He has very steady hands and it causes the models to always look fantastic. His best and biggest work is a ship in a bottle from a kit you gave him for an anniversary between you two. He only works on that in short increments to make sure he doesn’t screw it up - it’s about 2/3 done. You’ve repeatedly tried to get him to share his work online but he always gets bashful and refuses.

If he ever got the chance to do it together with the team though?? He’s gonna be beaming about that single evening for a week straight.

His favourite colour is dark green, like the forests :)

This is less of a headcannon and more just snippets of canon proof that I found. But he can speak English, Russian, Arabic and Spanish. Maybe even more.

He’s a tea person. Can’t stand coffee. It’s not about the taste, simply that every time he tried it, it gave him a headache.

When he first introduced you to the team, he was very nervous. Really wanted them to like you. So when Soap immediately took you into a hug and thanked you for ‘taking care of the old man’, followed by Gaz introducing himself with a warm smile and a praising regalia of the things he’d heard from Price, he couldn’t be happier. And when he at one point saw you at the kitchen table with Ghost, talking calmly and laughing with the hulking man who’s tension had dropped from his shoulders? He knew you were the one.

Loves going on double dates with Laswell and her wife too. You’re all good friends and it’s a chance to truly unwind and just catch up with Kate outside of work.

Please for the love of all that is holy, take a bath or shower with him. He ADORES them. Really wants so bad to take care of you. Will do your whole cleaning routine for you if you let him. If it’s something he’s not used to? Teach him, he’s very eager to learn.

All in all, this man just loves you so much. He finds himself so so lucky that you chose him of all people as your partner. Whether you’re civilian or military, he’ll protect you with life and limb. Literally.

So, those were the sfw thoughts bouncing in my head. I hope you liked them. Now we’re moving onto the spicy stuff. Please respect the banner, thank you and more stuff for this man is coming! ^^

Nsfw:

He is an ass man. All the way. Don’t get me wrong, he LOVES your thighs, seeing the way his fingers indent the flesh when he squeezes, being buried between them - it’s heavenly. But there is just something about your ass that he can’t get enough of. If his eyes aren’t on it, then his hands are.

He won’t randomly smack your ass - doesn’t really sit right with him, doesn’t find it proper (except for certain situations ;3). But dear god does he always have a hand on your ass to squeeze if he gets the chance. Walking somewhere together? If he can, he’ll slide his hand from your back/waist down to your ass and hold there. Sitting on his lap? You already know it, his hand is on your ass, keeping you in place. Brushing past you? One hand on your waist, one hand on your ass while he apologises and squeezes past.

A gentle over a rough lover. While he can go both ways, he prefers to go slow and deep. Watching your face contort in pleasure as he fucks you, hearing every noise you make.

This man is an absolute pleasure dom. He gets off on seeing you get off. There’s plenty of nights where he solely focuses on you and doesn’t cum himself.

Doesn’t like the word daddy but for the love of god PLEASE use honorifics. Call him captain and sir and you’ll have an entirely different man on your hands.

Prefers giving over receiving oral. There’s just something about working his tongue and mouth on you that never fails to make him groan against you - even if his mouth is otherwise occupied.

Will always properly prepare you. He doesn’t like hurting you. He’s big and he knows it so he doesn’t want to take any chances.

While he doesn’t mind quickies (in his office is a favourite), he prefers the actual thing. Like stated before, he wants to focus on you and give you all the pleasure he can and a quicky just doesn’t allow for that.

For those instances where you rile him up enough to forego his gentler side however? He knows how to work you. He can push every button you have and have you seeing stars while he fucks the life out of you. Don’t expect to be standing on strong legs the day after.

Man has stamina for DAYS. Prefers to make you cum multiple times before he cums himself. Need a moment in between orgasms to recover before you can go again? That’s okay, you can cockwarm him while he waits.

Speaking of cum. It’s thick, potent and by god he cums a lot. Properly stuffs you if you let him.

Big on marking you. Loves leaving bites, hickeys and handprints. Give him the same too. Scratch marks, bite marks, hickeys. He loves checking his body over in he morning to see what you left.

He has quite the libido on him. He can’t help it, you’re the most inviting and enticing thing in his eyes. Bend over to pick something up and his cock can already be hardening in his pants.

He’s very considerate of your wants and needs though. If you don’t want to have sex, he’ll cuddle you and hold you instead. If you’re not into a certain thing, he’ll refrain on doing it next time. Very much wants to make it a time of pure pleasure and love for you, because that’s what it is for him too.

Very into kisses. Sloppy, long kisses where you moan and whine into his mouth. Better yet if you muffle your moans in his mouth while he fucks you.

Favourite positions are missionary, mating press, doggy style, lotus and spooning sex. He loves them for different reasons.

Missionary because of how close he can be, feeling your legs wrap around his waist while all of him touches all of you.

Mating press because of how deep he can hit and keep such control. He can see your face contort in pleasure while folding your legs up and holding you down.

Doggy style is obvious as to why. But he also really loves watching the way your back arches with this one. He can hold onto your hips and just let his eyes rove your body.

Lotus he loves a lot when cuddles on the couch evolve into more, or when he’s in his office and the need arrises for you both. Just having you seated on his lap, your legs around him, body pressed so closely into his while he gently fucks up into you? Heaven.

Spooning sex? You mean cuddles + sex? Hit. Him. Up. He absolutely loves fucking you like this in the morning. Lazy, tired, properly waking each other up with pleasure.

If you’re into it and allow him to, he’d even actually wake you up like that. Big on somnophelia like that for the thought of pulling you out of your dreams and your sleep with pleasure. If he gets to the stage where he’s opened you up and his cock is filling you without you waking up until then, he’s oh so proud of himself. Would only do it if you’re comfortable though.

Very big on cockwarming. Watch a movie together on the couch and let him rest his cock in you from behind. Can evolve into spooning sex on the couch while making you try to keep your attention on the movie. His hand on your chin, keeping your face pointed to the screen while he whispers against your ear.

I said it before, he’s big. Long and thick and knows how to use it well. He’s a very hairy man all over but he keeps it neatly trimmed down there.

The h a p p y t r a i l of this man. Run your nails over it and it instantly sends blood rushing into his cock.

Overall, John will fuck you whenever he gets the chance. And by the gods he will show you what it’s like to be truly worshipped.

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to interact or send me any asks, I’d love to chat ^^

Part 2

[thenewgirl76]

It's In My Blood

Okay, random idea centered around halfas that I just had to share.

What if besides death followed by resurrection via a source of ectoplasm, a human-ghost hybrid could also be created She Hulk style. And by that I mean the old school comics. Not that spiteful heap of garbage masquerading as a tv adaptation made by that toxically bitter hack Jessica Gao.

This can be applied to whatever hero/villain you choose, I'm going with Batman. Mostly because I haven't seen many half ghost Bruce Wayne posts.

Anyway, the scenario starts off with Alfred finding Danny roaming the streets in search of food due to running away from foster care. (Jack and Maddy left him there in the hopes of keeping him safe from the GIW after Wes finally succeeded in outing him to all of Amity) And through lots of gentle coaxing convinces him to let Alfred take him home.

Eventually Danny gets so attached he readily agrees to being adopted into the Wayne family by Alfred. Once enough trust has been built overtime to share identities Gotham automatically gains a new protector.

Then the further establishment of new relationships is suddenly interrupted by a full-scale alien invasion, requiring all hands on deck. Though all the heroes manage to hold their own for the most part it quickly becomes clear they may not win this battle if they don't find something to turn the tide in their favor.

They get that something in the form of Phantom rallying all his ghost allies/frenemies to join the fight. With their added power the entirety of the alien army is thoroughly beaten back. But not before Batman takes a hit hard enough to cause him to bleed out at an alarming rate.

The already dire situation worsens all the more when it's discovered that Batman is a rare blood type and no one in the batclan or even the other human heroes matches. All save for Phantom. Problem is, with all that ecto mixed with his blood a transfusion could possibly poison or worse kill his big brother. Everyone is aware of this. But any other option would take too long and Batman doesn't have much time left.

So with bated breath and reluctance Phantom gives his blood. For a few scary minutes it looks like Batman might be showing signs of rejection. But then he slowly begins to stabilize, giving the medical team much needed breathing room to get him properly tended to.

While Bats may be on the mend no one's relaxing just yet. And not for a lack of trying. It's just a little hard to be chill when Mr. Dark and Broody has started randomly going invisible or intangible, speaking with an echo, levitating over his bed, and overall become creepily unsettling to look at. Especially with that unnatural glow in his eyes.

[midnightscramble]

Hello I want to request one of Agatha Harkness x fem! Reader smut 🥹

Like Lightning Part 1 (Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader)

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: So, so many liberties were taken (if it’s not to your liking feel free to request again, don’t be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: To Agatha’s surprise and relief her neighbor Y/n is not under Wanda’s complete control, Y/n has a feeling her and Agatha have met before…

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, pwp, slight angst/comfort, touch starved Agatha, thigh riding (Agatha receiving), biting (Agatha receiving), bottom Agatha, top reader, no Beta read

There was not much to do in Westview. The smart dressed college kids she went to school with had invited Y/n to hang out by the water tower, the go to spot for wanna be delinquents. But every night was the same, they discussed the same things with slightly more fluency than the night before, almost as if it was a rehearsal.

Rather than endure any more of the pseudo intellectual ramblings, Y/n had taken to walking at night. She walked just about everywhere, weaving in and out of neighborhoods, even taking to the near by woods. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, there was something about Westview at night that intrigued her. The air had a dream like quality, perhaps it was the mysterious fog that invaded the town each night, or maybe it was just her imagination.

Either way, Y/n felt a keen sense of safety on these walks. The city council had recently established a town curfew, meaning everyone was supposed to be in their homes by 8 pm. Two hours later and it was guaranteed that all lights would be out as people retired for the night. Everyone seemed so eager to comply with the rules that there was not a single soul left awake to enforce them.

That was until she saw an abandoned bicycle propped up against a tree near the edge of the woods. Cautiously approaching, she let her hands run over the handles. They were warm. Someone had recently ridden the bike. Y/n looked around the empty streets, and then towards the woods. The odds were that some kid thought they’d be rebellious and runaway for the night. She huffed and debated her options: continue her walk, or prevent a would be search party.

Always the good samaritan, she trudged through the fallen leaves, letting instinct guide her. It was almost as if a magnetic force was tugging her deeper into the woods. No, a child wouldn’t have made it this far, a child would have turned back by now- the sound of crickets chirping suddenly ceased, replaced by the low hum of radio static. She stopped in her tracks a peered into the darkness.

Choppily, a disembodied voice sounded as if it were right in front if her “We ha-ve eye-s on an-other host-age”

Y/n took off in a sprint before she could process what was being said. She dropped her keys somewhere in her rush to safety but didn’t look back until she had reached the familiar pavement of the roads. Still running, she made a beeline for home, and to her great relief a light emitted from her neighbor Agatha’s window. She ran up to the front door and pounded on it. Her heart was beating so fast she feared her ribcage would give way to its force. Finally the door opened, and Y/n collapsed into the door frame.

“Oh, well hello to you too,” Agatha sing songed.

“Please you’ve got to let me in, there’s something in the woods…” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly as she peaked over Y/n’s shoulder to examine the outside.

With concern in her eyes, she guided the young woman in. She wasn’t quite sure if Y/n was lucid or not. It seemed unlikely that Wanda would suddenly decide to give her a gift, and equally unlikely that her wife, Y/n, was in control of her actions.

Wanda’s spell on Westview had cruelly separated Agatha and Y/n. Day after day, Agatha was forced to watch Y/n wonder, flirt, and be a pawn in the whatever plot Wanda was acting out. The two had not interacted a single time during this whole ordeal, making Agatha’s days feel endless.

Y/n being one door down and yet completely out of her reach had been driving her slightly insane. Although, she did appreciate the proximity as it allowed her to keep an eye out for any threats.

“What happened did someone chase you?” Y/n paused and looked around, she had never been inside Agatha’s home before. In fact she had never even spoken to the woman, and yet she had the oddest sensation that being here with the woman was exactly where she belonged. Y/n dug through the deepest recesses of her mind, and looked at the woman in question.

It was only then that it occurred to Y/n the peculiarity of the situation. How was it that Agatha wasn’t asleep? Everyone in Westview followed the town’s curfew, yet here Agatha was, fully dressed in day clothes and awake as ever.

She ignored Agatha’s question and posed one of her own, “How is it that we are both awake right now?”

The dark haired woman sucked in a breath. Y/n never ceased to surprise her, she should have known her wife would move against the grain even when dark magic compelled her to fall in line.

“We must not be susceptible to lullabies…” She searched Y/n’s eyes for understanding. Her crypticness only seemed to agitate her wife further. If she wanted to get away from Wanda’s prying eyes she would have to convince Y/n to come down to the cellar, where her ruins are.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “Care for a drink?” Y/n nodded and followed her to the kitchen. On autopilot she started making the woman a vodka soda, but as she reached to place it down on the counter Y/n grabbed her wrist.

“How did you know my drink?” Not releasing her hold, Y/n pushed into the woman’s personal space, trying to intimidate her. Backing her into the wall she asked again, “What do you know?”

Agatha swallowed, the longing that had built up these past few months had left her positively starved for her wife’s touch. The feeling of the woman's body pressed against hers made her release a whimper. Y/n eyes darkened, and her breathe became shallow at the small noise Agatha emitted. Her grip on the woman's wrist loosened and she soothingly rubbed the pads of her fingertips against the reddened skin.

Even with no memory, Agatha thought to herself, the woman before her was still her sweet Y/n. Still caring even when frustrated and fighting.

For a moment, they stayed in that position, tightly pressed against the wall, breathing the same air until the lights of the house suddenly cut out. Y/n gasped as they were plunged into darkness. She clung onto Agatha, "What's going on, please I need to know."

She slipped out of the hold and tugged Y/n's hand gently, "You'll have to come with me." Silently they walked down the basement stairs. Large stones with carvings were littered across the floor, coming together to make a pentagram and Agatha guided them to the center. Wisps of purple floated through the air, like cotton candy being carried by the wind. In awe, Y/n reached out and gently touched it, it crinkled and cracked against her fingers like electricity. She turned to Agatha, waiting for an explanation.

...

They sat across from each other on the floor, far more relaxed as the reality of the situation was brought to light.

"And you're working to stop Wanda?" Y/n clarified.

"Well, now we're working to stop Wanda."

"But who exactly are we?" Agatha bit her lip before responding, "I'm your wife."

Y/n's eyes widened, she wished she could say it was in disbelief but she was mostly impressed with herself. A slow smile spread across her face, cat like and absolutely predatory, "Is that why you liked me corning you earlier?"

Agatha flushed, "You have to understand, I've been alone for months," as the woman explained herself Y/n started a slow crawl forward, "and having to watch you-"

"You've been watching me?"

"No! I mean yes, but not like that." Agatha buried her head in her hands. She jumped slightly feeling Y/n's hand close around her ankle, using her strength to drag the woman closer.

Once there was little space between them, Y/n carded her fingers through Agatha's hair, "That sounds awful, but I have to say, I'm glad you were alone" her grip tightened on the brown strands tugging her head back and exposing her neck, "I wouldn't want anyone else keeping you company."

Agatha's eyes closed as Y/n's lips met her neck, the feeling distracted her from the hand unfastening her jeans. She opened them when Y/n huffed with impatience. Agatha would have stopped to tease but she had waited too damn long for this. She made quick work of the pants and slid them down her smooth legs. The moment she was unoccupied Y/n hands were back on her, squeezing and rubbing every inch of skin almost as if she was confirming that Agatha was truly there.

Everyone else in Westview had seemed hallow, like a projection of a person, but Agatha was real. She was real and soft, and radiated heat.

Their mouths clashed against each other's and Agatha moved to straddle Y/n's leg. She slowly brought her hips down and rocked forward. Agatha broke the kiss as a shuddered breath left her. Purple clouds started gathering above the ruins, churning with energy. Peering above her, Y/n smirked at the display of uncontrolled magic. She could feel wetness gather on her thigh as Agatha's movements became rythmic, and the clouds above them rumbled.

Moaning into the other woman's mouth, Agatha's cunt clenched around nothing. Moving her hands to the woman's waist, Y/n forced her to move faster. Beads of sweat ran down Y/n's neck as the room grew humid, she looked at the beautiful woman above her, her wife. In act of pure possession she bit the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, sinking her teeth in until she felt skin break. Agatha cried out and a loud crack sounded behind them, her hips stuttered to a halt and her toes curled at the sensation washing over her. Y/n ran her tongue over the bite soothingly and continued moving Agatha's hips until she pushed her away, overstimulated.

Cheeks flushed and out of breath, Agatha let out a laugh. Following her line of sight, Y/n turned to see what she was looking at. A spot on the floor was scorched.

It appeared as though lightening had struck.

[emergency-plan]

DPxDC Idea

I had a little idea an have no time to actually write a fic, so I just wrote a sorta-summary and am posting it like this.

This is inspired by the game Home Safety Hotline and may contain hints to spoilers for that game. It's really clever, I really like it. I recommend you play it if slightly spooky without any "real" horror appeals to you.

Alright, Danny's been Ghost King for a few years and has realized more than just his usual rogues make their way to the living world, and a lot of those ghosts don't stay in Amity. By himself, it'd take forever to track down all those spirits and specters that are out causing mischief. Luckily, not many that escaped his notice are all that powerful and could only cause minor disturbances, just enough to get noticed by the living.

Many people outside Amity don't even recognize the activity as ghosts, so they blame other sources. Scratching in the walls is mistaken as mice, whispers and apparitions are mistaken as hallucinations and carbon monoxide hallucinations, attempted overshadowings mistaken as stokes or migraines. In this day and age, where does everyone turn to when looking for advice or how to solve problems? The internet.

Team Phantom devise a method to try and track down ghosts that are stuck or tormenting the living by building a website meant to look like a help hotline, and with some algorithm trickery make it one of the top options when searching for signs similar to ghost presences. Add some bits and bobs to make it appear as a more normal-looking website on any computer affiliated with government organizations, and you’ve got some protection from the GIW.

Calls start slowly, so the three of them can handle it by themselves. Once more people are calling, they decide to start a call center. They hired some trusted people around Amity and even a few ghosts who want to help. To get around worrying about the ghosts messing with the tech while personally taking a call, they decide to automate the system to record caller’s reports for the employees to listen to, and then send a report back, offering their services to bring the spirit back to the Realms.

It’s been surprisingly lucrative, and Danny hasn’t had to dip into his kingly funds much other than at the start. He still keeps prices low, just enough to not garner suspicions at offering a free service while paying his workers fairly (he doesn’t want to know why some of the ghosts want mortal money). What he’s started having more trouble with is not enough employees to take the calls. Sometimes ghosts lose track of time and don’t show up for their shifts (he doesn’t blame them, time gets weird in the Ghost Zone), and he’s run out of people he trusts who want the job.

Eventually he decides to put out an ad, deciding he’ll slowly trust whoever takes the job with a little more information over time, see how they react, and measure to see if they’re trustworthy.

What he doesn’t think about is how posting it on the website will let more people than just those that live in Amity apply.

Meanwhile, in Gotham, one Cassandra Cain is looking for a job. She doesn’t need the money, B gives her access to way too much, but she wants the experience. She’s at the age she’s heard most kids get a job, and she wants to see what it’s like.

And she quickly found out retail and fast food are NOT for her. She doesn’t think those conditions are fit for anyone, honestly. She’d have to see if she could get Bruce to work on that. But that still leaves her out of a job. She got overwhelmed with a lot of people, so virtual options would probably be best, and something that let her interact with people without having to speak. There weren’t a lot of options out there, and she wasn’t skilled enough with a computer yet to take programming ones.

That’s when she found the listing for the hotline call center. Based in a small Illinois town, but had virtual options, listen to recorded customer calls, diagnose their issue, and send an information packet on potential next steps. It was indirect, could also help her practice her reading, and flexible. It was perfect.

It didn’t take long to hear back after she applied (Danny was freaking out, he didn’t think anyone outside Amity would apply. He’d turn this kid down, but she’d mentioned her difficulties with speaking in her application and SWEETY YOU DONT MENTION STUFF LIKE THAT ON AN APPLICATION. But she said the job would be perfect for her and he just couldn’t…) and she got the job!

Her first day rolls around and she’s given access to the database. A lot has been redacted, but she has descriptions for common problems like mice, carbon monoxide, black mold, etc. she gets her first call recording and carefully reads through the entries before selecting the one that sounds right. She sends it off and waits for the next. The calls come a little too regularly, with too similar intervals between them, so she figures her new employer is testing how well she’s doing (Danny’s giving her previous resolved calls that weren’t anything supernatural. She even got the ants right! He had even gotten that wrong!)

Eventually, her shift ends and she tells her family how well her first day went at dinner. They congratulate her and go on patrol as usual. The next day, things ramp up a little.

She logs into the database at the beginning of her shift and noticed some new entries. She now had access to descriptions of shades, blob ghosts, will o’ wisps, and more minor spirits. She gets a recording reminding her all this info is confidential and that she’s not allowed to share it with anyone. She’s a little confused, but she reads through each just as carefully. The calls come less regularly, so she figures she’s actually connected to the system now (Danny gave her access to the most common ghosts they get calls about and is listening in while he’s handling ghosts to make sure she doesn’t get anything she’s not prepared for).

Her shift ends and over dinner, she mentions that she’s had to diagnose some odd things. They assure her there’s more pests and hazards out there than you’d expect. She doesn’t tell her family about the distraught woman haunted by the Ecto-Echo of her husband’s habit of making her coffee every morning after he passed a few weeks ago. Or the person who had a Shade masquerading as their shadow. Just about one of her caller's cockroach problem.

The next day follows a similar pattern; more entries, slightly more powerful ghosts, reminder that the info she's been given access to is confidential and could get people hurt if it got in the wrong hands, congratulated for her good work, read through carefully and learn signs of each, diagnose calls, before calling it a day (Danny was so proud of her, she'd only confused a blob ghost with a ghost animal once, and it hadn't caused him any trouble when he went to collect them).

She'd used the bat-computer to check up on some of the callers she'd diagnosed, and they seemed to be doing fine. Some had posted about their weird experiences on their social media and how her employer had somehow helped them, but often didn't quite know how (Danny liked to hide his powers, so most of what customers saw was him using ghost tech. When it couldn't be solved with just a quick souping, he had to pull a little ghostly trickery while the customer wasn't watching). She didn't know how her boss was somehow across the world multiple times a day to help clients in different countries, but he seemed to at least be helping people. She started not having any stories she could tell her family at dinner.

At some point, she heard reports that one of the speedsters probably messed with time travel again before clocking into her shift. She had almost all the available entries and had gotten very good at recognizing tricky cases. She answered a recorded call, just like at the beginning of each of her shifts, but this one was a little different. Danny had sent out an announcement to be on the lookout for a specific phenomena that often occurred after shifts in reality, as they were highly dangerous and needed to be dealt with swiftly.

She studied each entry and paused on what she was supposed to keep a careful eye out for. Revenants, corpses that came back to life, often seen shambling around the graveyards they were buried in. Something about that sounded familiar. A section in their entry said the person brought back often had a ghost in the Realms (which she still didn't know what that was) that was in terrible pain from shifts in reality trying to pull them back to their body, but the separation of dimensions preventing them.

Expectedly, she did get a call from someone convinced there was a zombie wandering somewhere along the east coast. She double checked it couldn't be anything else before submitting it and notifying her boss.

Curious, and she knew no one would be in the batcave around this time of day, she brought her laptop with her down to the bat-computer. She found cameras in the area the caller reported, and froze at what she saw. Shambling across an abandoned street was a rotting corpse. It really did look like a zombie. It was covered in dirt, wearing an old-fashioned suit, and had skin sloughing off its bones.

But what Cass could only focus on was how much its movements read that it was in pain. It was suffering in such a horrible way its mindless being didn't even deserve. It was horrible.

Then, there was a flash of green and an area of the cameras were covered in static. The glitched portion somehow read with kindness and pity. It slowly approached the corpse, simple reaching out gently (what was presumably a hand), ignoring the way it lashed out. It suddenly fell, caught and slowly lower to the ground by the strange being she couldn't see. It closed the thing's eyes before carrying it off in the direction the map said a graveyard could be found.

After that, she finished her shift and went to dinner. Her family asked if she was alright, and she only replied it'd been a long day.

She clocked in early the next day and messaged her boss for more information on Revenants. Dinner that night was one of the few times Jason agreed to come by, and if he noticed how she kept glancing at him, he didn't say anything.

A week later, she asked her boss what might happen if a Revenant was exposed to, as it was called in its entry, a "Corrupted Ecto-Spring" ("...an ugly hole in the fabric of reality that connects the world of the living to the Realms. The ectoplasm that leaks through the tear stagnates and festers into toxic pools that kills humans and makes ghosts sick."). Danny requested a video call.

[strikethematch18]

I Want You

Dazai x Reader

word count: 2,001

TW: Mentions of homelessness, loss of home, housing insecurity

Reader ability is not specified.

This has not been proofed or edited

Reader has recently been evicted from her run down apartment with a weeks notice, and has problems trying to find temporary housing. She strikes out with every coworker, but leaves one out thinking it would be an automatic no.

m.list

The process of finding a place to live was much harder than you originally thought. After your apartment building was being shut down and you were forced to move by the end of week, you found yourself in a scramble to find a place to go. You didn't have much, being at the agency, you didn't spend much time in your apartment anyhow.

You did the next logical thing you could do to help your situation. You talked to the president of the ADA, see if he could point you in a direction of options, maybe the agency had a dorm available until you could figure out a more permanent solution. Unfortunately, since Atsushi had started there were no vacant apartments and he was unaware of any other buildings within your budget or could get you in as quick as you needed. He did suggest you speak to your coworkers if you could stay with one of them temporarily, and he would start with Yosano.

And you did, you traveled to the agency infirmary and asked her. Unfortunately, she was unable to allow you due to the hazards of her near fatal tools, it wouldnt be safe. From there she suggested asking someone else. With a forced smile you left and felt your stress increase tenfold.

Once you made it back to your cubical, Kunikida handed you a case file and left it to you take care of. This took you the rest of the day and returned when nearly everyone already left the office. You left for home with a sigh, prepared to start your search again tomorrow.

Upon arrival you kicked your shoes off and started the packing process. Leave the most essential items until the end, but you could start with things you didn't need everyday. Laying out outfits for the remaining time you'd need, you started folding clothes and putting them in a bag. Then came most HBA, you could just wear your hair up and hair wash day wasn't until after your move anyways, that just left soap and some hair ties. Your kitchen had the bare essentials you'd need to eat and cook, but more often than not it was fruit or cup of noodles. After analyzing what you would need to pack you took your evening shower and went to bed.

The next day started as it always does just earlier than normal. You wanted to get into the agency before as many of your coworkers as possible to not raise suspicion of your bag of clothes and toiletries. The hiding spot wasn't the most hidden, but it wouldn't be in the way and obvious either. Arriving at work, you somehow managed to just barely show up before kunikida, stuffing your bag under your desk before he could see. While you needed to move and find a place to live, you didn't want people to see how dire the situation really is.

It was a relatively slow day, a stray case here and there, some allowed you to go with your coworkers and have one on one conversations. Given the opportunity you'd ask if you could stay with them until you could find another place. So far, you were striking out.

Over the week you had collectively been bringing you things to the agency before you couldn't anymore and still had nowhere to go by the end of the day.

You couldn't impose on the brother sister duo of the Tanizaki's, so you didn't ask.

You briefly asked Kenji but stopped yourself due to his young age and mannerisms.

Kunikida turned you down due to you staying would impose on his strict schedule where everything was planned to the last second, and no where in it did it leave space for you to crash until you found a place.

Word got around to Atsushi who said he would offer but with him sharing with Kyouka, there wasn't much space.

Asking Ranpo was probably one of the worst things you could do so you didn't. And you were sure he already knew anyways.

Today your tenancy was up, all your things in the agency under your desk with no where to go. You felt so alone and unwanted even though everyone had their reasons. The only option you had was crashing at your desk or finding a street, and the desk seemed more appealing. No one asked if you had actually found a place to go for at least tonight, or maybe they assumed you did. Making up a lie that you were staying late to finish some paperwork, everyone went to their respected living arrangements. All except the former mafia executive who had been watching you and saw past your smiles and knew your nervous ticks. Dazai was the only one you hadn't asked, you just assumed it would be an automatic no and you'd already had enough rejection for the week.

You were under the guise he had left for the evening but he had instead getting something from down the hall. So you finally took a large blanket from a bag under your desk to wrap around yourself, slipped your shoes off and turned sideways in your chair and pulled your feet up to hug your knees. Finally you let the mask slip along with some tears and silent shudders. In your moment of weakness you failed to notice the bandaged man standing in the door way with a deep frown on his face. He was expecting you to possibly break at some point, but not this soon. Watching your breathing pick up he broke his trance and walked over and placed his hand on your shoulder. Not expecting anyone you flinched and looked up to see none other than Dazai himself.

Of course to save face you did your best to wipe your face of any tears and hide any sniffles trying to put the mask back on. You knew it was pointless but pretending things were fine had become your specialty recently.

Giving a strained smile and clearing your throat you addressed the dark haired man, "Hey Dazai, I thought you already went home when everyone else did, you usually leave early."

"Not today, I thought I would stay a little longer for once."

Honestly, he was staying because he knew you didn't have a place to go tonight, and the one thing he couldn't figure out was why you didn't come to him, and he planned to ask but was waiting until the right time.

"Any particular reason for acting out of character?" You asked with a forced smile.

Really what you wanted was for him to go home so you could try to sleep in your bed of an office chair until further notice. More than anything though you wanted the mask to slip, the week was exhausting physically, but also mentally and emotionally. And stopping and restarting that mask made it increase tenfold. He could see your exhaustion which was precisely why he didn't leave.

"Just reasons, thought maybe I could set up a prank of Kunikida for when he comes in tomorrow morning. and what reason do you have to be here late Y/N, curling up in your chair like that doesn't seem like working to me," he sing songedly replied.

Just for a moment you let the smile fade from your face before you forced the facade back on, "I thought maybe I could take a bit and get comfy for a break."

"There's no work on your desk."

"I'm in-between tasks right now"

"And the bags you've been hiding under your desk and around the agency over the last week?" He suddenly turned slightly monotone.

Apparently he had figured you out. It was too hard to keep the smile from slipping, but you tried nonetheless. It was hard to notice, and had you been anyone else, you wouldn't have seen the slight grimace he gave watching you try to portray something you weren't. He knew what was going on and you didn't even have to tell him, and he couldn't help but wonder why you didn't come clean.

You were unable to formulate a response, you knew it was pointless to try and fool him. He was too smart for that, too perceptive. So you did the only thing you could think of in the moment, you looked down and let your loose hair that fell out of your slightly oily bun ages ago, cover your face. There was nothing you could say, you didn’t even know why you even tried to hide your reasoning for being at the office well after closing from the Osamu Dazai.

Dazai removed his hand on your shoulder and moved it slowly towards your face, tucking the curtain of hair in front of it behind your ears one side of a time before placing two fingers under your chin and nudging it up to look at him. He was surprisingly startled by the silent tears falling down your face, leaving tracks behind. For once he doesn’t think logically, in fact he doesn’t think at all as he moves his hand to your cheek before using his thumb, wiping your tears away. That’s all it takes for you to crumble into broken pieces as your shoulder begin to shake.

”Dazai?”

He simply hums in response, desperate to not lose eye contact with you.

“How come n-no one wants m-me?” You can’t help but shudder out.

Eye contact be damned, he knew your starvation for physical touch, he knew because he was the same. He buffered for a moment at your question before he threw his arms around you, pressing you tightly into his frame as you cried, let out your shudders and whimpers in a safe space.

And he wasn’t accepting any of this, he wasn’t going to let you wallow in your own pity, ashamed of being found out for something out of your control. Dazai knew what that was like, before he had joined the mafia he had already been a master at hiding it; the only one who saw right through him was Chuuya and that ship had sailed a long time ago. So no, he was not going to let you suffer in silence anymore than you had over the past week. Not when he knew he had an answer.

Before he could stop himself, and after a few minutes as you calmed down he finally responded, “I do.”

Looking up and blinking at him like an owl you’re not quite sure you heard him right, “What?”

With a tone of certainty he repeated himself, “I do. I want you.”

Your mouth slightly agape as he took a breath to pause before continuing, “Stay with me. Come home with me.”

”I- Dazai.”

”You never asked me, why?”

”I just - I thought- I had already been rejected enough and the idea of another-“

”Would have been the straw that broke you,” he finished for you.

”Yeah.”

Before he gave you the option to decline, he grabbed the last bag you brought in this morning, obviously all the stuff you needed day to day, and put it on his shoulder. Dazai then proceeds to grab your hand, pulling you up and starts to drag you across the room.

”Dazai wait!”

“Nope, no time like the present m’lady. It’s late, want to get home before all the creepers come out to play!”

”No Dazai seriously, I need to put my shoes back on,”

Immediately he stops, runs back to your desk to gab the shoes underneath it, and proceeds to come back and kneel in front of you, forcefully putting your shoes back on your feet. All with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You gasp as he grabs your hand again and pulls you towards the stairs,

”I-Dazai-“

”Osamu.” His tone strong and serious as he interupts you.

”What?”

”Osamu. If we’re going to live together, call me by my given name.”

“Thank you, Daz- Osamu.”

[izvmimi]

cw: pseudocest. implied one-sided love triangle. reader is technically a silva. yandere undertones.

As in every royal family, secrets abound, some out in the open whether by force or by inevitably, like the fact that you may or may not be your father’s child, and that as a result you may not be a true royal, nor a true Silva, and others more well-kept, somehow even more scandalous.

Like the fact that your purported first cousin by murky blood is in love with you.

“Noelle will wonder where I am, Nozel,” you murmur. It’s late evening in Spring, and you’ve come back to the estate on his request for a ‘family meeting.’ By now, the four main Silva children have grown up, Nozel the oldest and head of the family, now in his early 30s and yet to marry, and as such the differences that marked growing up have now resolved. You’ve been raised in and out of their home due to your father’s inability to parent without the help of a madam, and his unwillingness to marry someone that wasn’t your mother, so naturally, you found your way back here with Noelle. Emotional support never hurts, and you love your cousin dearly. 

However, this part of any interaction with this - your - family is hardest to navigate - the fact that Nozel has wanted you for many years, and now has become bold enough to pressure you to marry him.

“But you agree that it looks bad that I’ve remained single all this time,” Nozel states. You look up at him, holding in your desire to roll your eyes before letting out a sigh. The two of you are caught up in a hallway, far from the main wing where dinner had been served, far from prying eyes. You often end up like this these days, him far too deep into your space, his face leaned into yours, that stupid front facing braid close enough that it practically grazes your nose.

“Not as bad as marrying your first cousin,” you remind him.

He rolls his eyes.

“Everyone knows that that cannot possibly be true.” He steps back, and crosses his arm. “Whatever Uncle insisted on is quite silly, I don’t understand why he was so desperate to refuse to admit that you are but his stepdaughter. We would not have treated you any differently-” he starts, but you scoff, covering your mouth with your handkerchief.

“You failed to treat your actual sister well and you dare project the illusion of fairness?”

Nozel’s pale violet eyes narrow, and you look away. You don’t know if you’ll ever stand up to him - it’s been possibly 15 years since the first time you were brought into the Silva family, holding your father’s hand at the doorstep. Nozel had looked at you with so much contempt, that your 8 year old self wondered if you were dirty or particularly hideous, while Noelle had immediately taken your hand, grin wide before she was practically dragged away by her siblings. What irony is it today that even if he’s spared you today, you can still remember him forcing your chin steady and kissing you just weeks ago, confirming your long-held suspicions that he was really crazy enough to do it. 

To try to own you completely. 

“Do you have better options, ___?” he asks. 

You’re not too old to find a suitor, even if the search has not started for you, but you know that’s not what he means. You would be hard pressed to find a man of similar rank, intelligence, beauty or magic ability, and the two of you are well aware of this fact. Even if someone were to object to your union on the basis of close parentage, your father cannot stop him from beyond the grave, and the kingdom may speak, but ultimately no one could truly prevent your union.

Except you, technically, but at times, you wonder if you even really have a choice.

“I don’t, but I would like to continue to have some time to follow my dreams.”

Nozel offers you a small smile, his hand finding its way onto your right cheek and caressing it. “I’m quite delighted you have your own dreams.” 

You don’t like the way he says that, and as his hand falls gently from your cheek to his side, you understand that the implication is that of a father entertained by his child’s dream of becoming a dolphin. Ridiculous. 

“If you are concerned about Noelle’s whereabouts, I’ll leave you to go find her,” he says, now letting his hands rest behind him, and changing the subject. Where he’s touched you is still asymmetrically warm, as though you can feel all 5 fingers, as though he’s marked you as his. You remember braiding Noelle’s hair in between your legs at age 14, and her 11, and him appearing to watch the two of you for far too long. You’d thought the psychological protective barrier you had around “talentless” Noelle is what repelled Solid and Nebra whenever you came around and fascinated Nozel, but there was something else entirely. 

As Nozel leaves you to ponder this not-quite marriage proposal, you shudder. You take a few steps down the hallway to find the banquet room, then slowly find yourself sinking to the ground.

Your legs are shaking, not from fear per se, not from desire either (although logically it’s not unfathomable that you could ever grow to like or even love him) but out of a sheer understanding that your life could so easily begin and end with him in just a few short years. 

Your time with the Black Bulls may have spoiled you these last several years, offering you freedom you’ve never had with the Silva family. It’s helped both you and Noelle grow, and while Noelle is no longer under the thumb of her siblings due to her immense power and indomitable spirit, you are simply not as strong as her, nor do you have the advantage of legitimate birth into royalty no matter how much your father tried to give it to you out of respect and adoration of your mother. 

You are far more at Nozel’s mercy than you would like to be. To think all these years you spent protecting that little girl, only to find out that she was far more safe than you’d ever be.

Do you have better options?

On paper, no, not a chance in hell. In your heart, possibly. 

Before that smile can come to mind, you shake it out of your head and scramble to your feet, Noelle rushing down to find you. 

“Gosh, where the hell have you been? We need to leave this place, I don’t even know why I bothered coming,” she starts. It was a show of kindness, but she’s naturally lost interest. Her purple eyes scan to you a little too long, and you force a smile to dispel your unrest. She cannot see it. You’ve hidden the way he looks at you for this many years, no need to reveal everything now. 

You don’t want to spend any time explaining your predicament, not to her, not to the Black Bulls. 

Not to…

“Asta was hoping we’d meet up with him and Luck and Magna in an hour. What do you think?” she asks. Then quickly, her face turns red and she rephrases herself, as she’s done for years. “Not that it matters that much, you know. I don’t care what he thinks at all! I’m actually considering not going.”

You smile. 

“Let’s go.”

You take her hand, and you are young kids again, and like a child, dirty laundry ceases to be your responsibility.

For now.

[ljz002-world]

Revenge, Part 5

At this Y/N looked up at the older man with wide eyes, “W-What?” “You heard me. Do you still want to kill me?” “Where’d you get that from?”, Y/N asked trying to keep it lighthearted while hyperventilating within herself. “You know exactly what I mean and where I get it from”, Thomas stated as his grip on the girl hardened, he held her shoulder painfully hard, Y/N knew it would leave a bruise for sure. “Tommy…”, Y/N said, hissing as his grip hardened even more, “Tommy you’re hurting-“ “I don’t care. You answer me.” Thomas said coldly, he didn’t even look at Y/N who was now wincing under his harsh grip as she just shook her head, “N-No, let go of me and I’ll explain everything- just stop hurting me!”

Thomas let out a hard sigh as he released his grip on the girl, causing her to sit up harshly, pulling the blanket to cover her chest up as she looked at Thomas with hurt eyes, her gaze shaking as she took a deep breath. “And? I’m fucking waiting.” Y/N looked down, glancing at the gun discarded by the bedside table, an action which led Thomas to take it before she could even reach for it, “Don’t even think about it.”

Y/N gulped as her gaze hardened, she was scared but still dedicated, “On September 5th 1916 you killed my father-“ “I killed people, but I never killed your father-“ “You were with the tunnellers, no?! You blew my father up!” “It was war”, Thomas said as he sat up as he saw how close to tears she was, “I never killed him willingly, I killed him for my country, for the king. I didn’t shoot him in the face, I blew him and thousands other up at best. Don’t call me a murderer when your father probably killed just as many men as me-“ “He didn’t”, Y/N sobbed, “He was a strategist, he was never once in battle. One of you tunnels went right under his camp. You blew him up in his sleep!”

Thomas sighed as he just let Y/N scream at him, “You killed a man in his sleep!-“ “And you wanted to do the same? Kill me after having sex with me?” “You’re a dirty gangster Thomas Shelby. You don’t deserve and honorable death”, Y/N hissed at the man, this had caused him to grow angry himself, grabbing onto her upper arm painfully hard, “Don’t fucking say that. I’m a gangster, I’m a horrible man. I’m a bad man, a very bad man. But everyone deserves an honorable death. I’d die a war-hero. Your father, if he was a strategist, he must have had a high standing, he probably died a war hero as well.” “And you killed him! Took my mother’s husband away! Took my father away! Do you know how much I struggled because of you?! How many nights I stayed up late, waiting for my father to come home?! How often I prayed for his safe return?! And you just took him from me!” Y/N just sobbed as she put all of her strength into slapping Thomas, her hand stinging from the impact.

Thomas stood up, putting on his briefs as he walked up and down in his bedroom. “How do you want to kill me?” Y/N looked up, tear stained face looking at the man she had wanted to kill. “And don’t lie to me. I’m having my men searching your house this exact moment. So say it.” “I had different options”, Y/N muttered, not meeting the man’s gaze, “Putting a bullet in your head. Slicing your neck open”, she started listing her options while Thomas listened, “Bashing your head in with something. Poisoning you.” Thomas had roughly grabbed the girl’s face in his hand, forcing her to look at him, “Well you’re not doing any of them. Got it?”  He let go of her face harshly, “What will you do with me now?”, Y/N asked meekly. Thomas scoffed, hands placed on his hips as he shook his head, “I don’t know. I could kill you, I could let my men have their go at you. I won’t do that, I’m not that cruel. Not to a grieving daughter”, he said as he saw how Y/N’s eyes filled with horror.

“So you’ll kill me?” “No. You’re grieving, it’s understandable you want someone to put your hate and anger on”, Thomas sat down besides Y/N who was still only covering herself with his blanket. “What then?”

[noodle-is-unstable]

Bound and Beat

All of my writing is completely Gender Neutral Reader. There is no reference to gendered body parts (Imaging a Ken Doll if you will). Due to this I use more vague language, and nothing is as specific or specified. Please be advised this writing style isn't for everyone and it is okay to skip.

Ft ~ Suguru Geto x GN!Reader Kink ~ Bondage and Impact Play Synopsis ~ Staying in and being tied up and hit is all you need for a good Friday night Content Warning ~ 18+, Smut, face fucking, bondage, flog, spanking, light face hitting, rough sex, raw sex, reader gets cummed in. Idk Adult Content.

2.0K Words, I don't proof read

“Some friends asked if we wanted to come out drinking tonight.” You commented, looking down at your phone.

“Oh?  Did you want to go?” Geto raised an eyebrow at you.  You were both home bodies so this happened often.  Your friends would ask you both to hang out but neither of you wanted to be the one to say no incase the other wanted to go.  You also rarely had an excuse and constantly telling them no wasn’t an option, they were still your friends after all.

“I’m okay with going if you want to go.” Both of you knew you didn’t want  to go out.  It was Friday night though, it would probably do you both good to go out.

“I’m good with either.  If you want to go, I’ll come but I’m fine staying home too.” But then again you were already in lounge wear and didn’t really want to get ready to go out.

“Totally up to you, I’m down for anything.” Then again you’ve told your friends you’re busy the last two weekends.

“I mean, you’re closer to them than me.  You should choose.” But you’re adults and also can’t go out drinking every weekend.  You have responsibilities.  Plus the hangovers are foul.

“You knew them first, it’s up to you.” You could always go for one drink, but that’s so much work to get ready and go out for an hour.

“Why not tell them you’re tied up and can’t make it.” Geto whispered in your ear.  But then again you could invite them over for a drink so it's more casual.  Wait, what?  Your thoughts snapped to what Geto said, or more how he said it.  His face was beside yours, lips ghosting your ear.  

“What?” Your voice was almost a whisper, still trying to understand what he said.  That’s not normally how these discussions went.  You’d both go back and forth until you’d reluctantly convince yourself to go..  

“Why not tell them you’re tied up and can’t go?” Geto smirked, hands moving to hold your hips and pull you into him.

“I don’t want to lie to them.” Brows furrowing you bit the inside of your cheek.  The group chat was still going off, waiting for an answer.  The Geto grabbed your chin, pinching your cheeks so your mouth opened and you’d look at him.

“Who said you’d be lying?” He asked with a tilted head.  That’s when his actions and words clicked together.  Your eyes went wide, heart beat increasing.  You were searching his eyes for any hint he was joking but found none.

“So, can I inform them you’ll be preoccupied tonight?” Geto’s lips were curled in an alluring smirk.  Always so smooth and sultry.  All you could do was give a small nod, your cheeks still squeezed in his hand.  He grabbed your phone from you and typed out a quick message before tossing it on the counter.  Before you could say anything he had scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the room.  Not the bedroom, the special spare room where all your extra special and fun sex objects were kept.  

“On the X-cross, handing, or just restrained tonight, Angel?” Geto hummed as he opened the door.  So many options.  You thought for a moment.

“You got us out of going out tonight, so dealer's choice.” You smiled back at him.

“I should save you from social situations more often.” Geto laughed, tenderly kissing your forehead.  “Well, instead of hanging out with friends, I think it would be fitting to have you hanging in a different way.” He hummed, gently placing your feet back on the ground.  You looked up at the hooks and clips on the ceiling that Geto had installed.  

“Clothes off.” He commanded before going to the closet to dig around.  “How rough do you want the ropes to be?” He asked absentmindedly while he grabbed  other things.

“Rough.” You purred with a smile.  There was something about hanging with ropes that gently tore into you that was euphoric.

“Such a masochist.” Geto teased which just made you roll your eyes.

“I was normal and had plain old vanilla sex before I met you.  You’re the real freak here.” You shot back.  This just made him laugh as he pulled out the items.

“Yeah?  And how was it?  How many times did they make you cum or scream their name?” Geto gave you a cocky smirk and raised brow.  Your cheeks went flush as you pouted.  He was right, but did he have to be so loud about it?

“Whatever.” You mumbled.

“That’s what I thought.” Geto chuckled, preparing the rope.  “Now what's the safe word?” He asked as he began to wrap the rope around you.

“Red.” You sighed, letting him lift and move your arms as needed.  He did this every time.  You always had to go through the safety precautions and tell him you consented.  It wasn’t that you were upset he did this, in fact it always made you feel safe.  The issue was you would let him do absolutely anything to you and would thank him after.  Never once had you used the precautions but still, he made sure you knew them and they were in place.

“Mhm, and the action?” Geto asked, now binding your arms behind your back.

“Three snaps or three taps.” You confirm, though with the way your arms were, that wasn’t going to be an option.

“And sound?” Geto moved to your legs, tying one so your ankle was flush to your thigh.

“Three deep grunts in a row.” You squeaked as Geto tightened the rope.

“Great.” Geto smiled, giving your ass a gentle tap.  “Up we go.” He smirked, throwing you over his shoulder like you were weightless.  He began to work the ropes through the hooks and pulleys before hoisting you up.  You were posed with your arms back like angel wings, one leg tied to itself and the other dangling.

“You look ethereal, my Angel.” Geto let out a soft sigh, heart filled eyes as he took in the view.  

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You strain to say, the rope on your ribs restricting their movement.  Then you saw a flash, a polaroid printing out.  

“I always do.” Geto smirked, shaking the picture before adding it to the bulletin board on the wall.  It had hundreds of pictures.  Some of you together, some of just him, but mostly you in precarious positions.  Welts on your ass, tied up, bound and gagged, whatever that session happened to be of.

“Now shall we?” Geto hummed, grabbing a flog.  Your cheeks went flush.  You always seemed to go quiet and shy once you realized the position you were truly in.  Completely helpless, at the mercy of Geto and putting all your trust in him.  A stinging impact hit your left butt cheek, making you suck air in through your teeth.  

“Count them.” Geto instructed.

“One.” You groaned out.  A hand came down on the other side of your ass.

“Two.” You whimpered, the stinging sensation sending waves of pleasure straight through you.  The flog whipped your exposed side.

“Three.” You moaned, eyes already beginning to roll back.

“So filthy of you to get off on getting hit, Angel.” Geto teased, lifting your chin to look at him.  “Open.” He squeezed your cheeks.  Your jaw went slack on his command, a long strand of his spit falling into your mouth.  You happily savored the sweet saliva.

“So filthy.” Geto cooed, gently slapping your cheek twice.  The way you looked up at him, slightly slack jawed, tongue half out and hearts in your eyes had his cock painfully hard.  The way he had barely touched you, but here you were, already dumb and drooling for him.

“Think you deserve a teat?” Geto’s voice was coated in lust, deep and thick with need.  You nodded, swallowing hard.  Your eyes went wide as you watched Geto strip down, hard cock slapping his stomach and leaving a connection of precum.  He walked up to you, grabbing his dick he slapped your cheek with it, leaving a smeared trail of precum.  

“Do you want it?” Geto asked, slapping your cheek again.

“Yes.” You were practically panting, unable to move to claim it for yourself.

“Beg for it Angel.” He smiled down at you.  His tip continued to tap into your cheek as you attempted to nuzzle into it more.

“Pretty please Suguru, please.  I want you so badly, want to taste you, please.” You whined, eyes fixated on his drooling cock.

“Anything for you.  Open up.” Your jaw fell open on his command.  Geto took no time to put his cock between your lips and pull the ropes so he was down your throat.  Your eyes filled with tears at the rough entry.  You gagged on his length, lashes already tearstained.  Even so you didn’t use the  safe sound and Geto took this as encouragement to continue.  With his grip on the ropes he began to swing you, pulling you almost off his dick before roughly swinging it back so your nose hit his happy tail.  Drool and spit bubbles from your lips as Geto roughly face fucked you.  The roped scraped and dug into you with every swing, sure to leave their mark on you.  Every time he pulled you forward, a hash slap was added to your ass.  A gagged cry would try to escape your stuffed throat but only more drool would fall.

“So good.  Fuck, you feel so good Angel.” Geto grunted.  It was only when his abs began to contract he fully pulled out.  You gasped, coughing at the sudden freedom.  

“That should be enough spit, yeah?” Geto panted, having just edged himself so he didn’t cum down your throat.  He collected the messy amount of drool on your chin with his fingers before he moved behind you.  Fingers deposited the spit onto your entrance as a form of lube.

“Such a stunning view.” Geto purred, stretching your hole with both hands to get a better view of it.  “It just calls to me, begs to be filled by my cock.” He tapped his tip to it.  Geto gave you no warning as he grabbed the rope once again to swing you into him, forcing you to take him fully in one swift motion.  Your eyes rolled back  as a cried scream left your lips.  He managed to direct his tip into your sweet spot.  Tears poured from your eyes at the stretching sensation and the pleasure you felt.  It was almost too much.  With just one thrust he already had you on the verge of cuming.  Geto wasn’t insane though, he held you in pace for a while, letting you adjust to around him.  It was only when he could feel you clenching around him, trying to pull him in impossibly deeper, that he began to swing you again.  The ropes began to dig in again, pleasure and pain mixing into one as you cried over the sensation.  Geto swung you roughly back into him each time, his tip bruising your sweet spot.  A loud, moaning scream left your lips when Geto harshly slapped your ass at the exact moment he bottomed out into you.

“A-AH Suguru!” You were a mess.  Words that were meant to be begging just came out broken and all too much.  Each swing, each slap, each thrust, each burning fiber from the rope, it was all becoming too much.

“Gunna cum for me?  Let me hear my Angel sing my name.  Come on, I wanna hear you.” Geto grunted.  He was close too but he’d be damned if he came before you did.

“Please, Suguru, god, please!” Broken screams escaped you as your orgasm washed over you.  Eyes rolling back as your entire body shook, going stiff.  

“Fuck!” Geto grunted, cumming  deep into your core, holding the rope so he was as deep in you as possible.  The second your orgasm faded your body went limp, simply too exhausted to hold itself up.  You were drooling, eyes half lidded.  You could barely focus on the fact Geto was lowering you from your place, loosening the ropes.

“You’re too perfect Angel.  My ethereal blessing.” Geto sighed, kissing along the deep rope burns that covered your body.  “Come on, let me take care of you.” He cooed, picking you up as if you were delicate and might break.  As if you hadn’t just been manhandled to oblivion.

About the Kink: Bondage and Impact Play are apart of the BDSM umbrella. Bondage is the practice of consensually tying, binding or restricting someone. Generally this is done for erotic, aesthetic, or somatosensory stimulation. A partner may be physically restrained in a variety of ways, including the use of rope, cuffs, bondage tape, or self-adhering bandage. Impact play is the is a sexual practice in which one person is struck (usually repeatedly) by another person for the gratification of either or both parties which may or may not be sexual in nature. How to Practice the Kink Safely:

With any kink it's important to have a safe word, action and sound. The action is in case it's not possible to be verbal. The sound is incase it's not possible to make words or move. Pick something easy to remember and wouldn't come up naturally. Eg. Red, 3 fast taps, 3 repeating grunts

It's important to remember that consent can be taken away at any point in time. While participating in these things safe words, actions and sounds should all be implemented. The one doing the restraining should check in with the restrained and ensure they are okay and comfortable. Remember it's only a kink if both parties are willing, eager participants. When using restraints there should be thinks like a knife, scissors, or other cutting tools nearby incase there is need to undo the binds quickly. With both Bondage and Impact Play aftercare is a must. Emotional aftercare is also highly recommended. Aftercare expectations should be discussed before beginning

[chatsurie]

No good deed goes unpunished

Ran x reader

She could see her breath in the air, drawing her coat even closer around her body as she left the hospital.

The shift had been gruelling and the knowledge of having to check her bank account sounded ghastly. The idea to buy herself groceries without checking the balance however seemed like the worst idea of all. Followed by the idea of studying Med. Residency was literally dragging her through the mud. The soles of her feet ached as she made her way down the hill. Why there wasn't any public transports at this hour anymore would be a question forever remaining unanswered. She really should have taken the bike even if the idea of driving up the hill to the hospital in the morning had sounded like a nightmare.

Yawning, the young woman started searching for her earphones that were somewhere in her bag. Fuck she just wanted to eat, take a hot shower and fall face first into her bed. Maybe she'd even be able to scrounge up enough money at the end of the month to afford a massage? Treating herself sounded like a dream.

She had just put her first earphone in as she walked by the badly lit alley. It was the sole reason why she had even heard it in the first place, rudely shoving every thought out of her head.

Halting and putting the earphones back inside their case she listened once more.

That sounded like a groan. A pained one too.

Glancing inside the alleyway she tried to make out anything inside the dark. As her eyes slowly accustomed to it she started to be able to make out a figure. It seemed like it was leaning against the left wall just out of the way of the only dimly lit street light.

Biting her lip she considered her options. She could just keep walking. She could get home, make herself the instant noodles she had decided would be enough for today and head to bed.

She wouldn't be able to sleep though, would she? There would be this nagging voice inside her head asking if they had been injured, maybe needed help?

But in today's day and age everyone had a phone. So they could probably call an ambulance themselves if it was that bad, right?

Nodding to herself she took the first step away from the sound only to stop again.

There were many reasons someone wouldn't be able to use their phone.

She'd also swear an oath to either help or do no harm. If she were to leave now she wouldn't just not help, she'd very much be not helping them. Even as a citizen she had the duty to do first aid to the best of her ability and call an ambulance if need be.

Sighing to herself she turned on her heel and walked down the street with purpose.

The uncharacteristic sound of two distinct clicks made her stop shortly. What was that? Gulping she took another smaller step until she stood under the light of the lamp. And from there she could see the predicament she had just gotten herself into.

She should have gone home.

On the wall in front of her there was a man leaning against it. Even though he was slightly crumbled into himself she could tell that he was tall. His legs were strewn in front of him dressed in an expensive looking pair of violet trousers. One of his hands was pressed into his side, the white dress shirt turning dark around his fingers.

Before she could come closer something shiny in his other hand that laid on the floor drew her attention.

That was a gun.

Fuck. That was a gun.

She had never seen a real life gun in her life before.

Her eyes shot up to look at his face for the first time.

His hair was a weird mess of lilac and black and his eyes half closed and yet sharp could probably be described as bedroom eyes. All in all he did not look like a police officer even in the slightest. She was pretty sure they weren't even allowed to have dyed hair.

He was starting at her. Had he been staring this whole time?

“What can I help you with, Doll?” His voice was rough and there was a lazy lilt in it. His hair previously probably pushed back with gel was falling into his eyes.

She had never seen this cruel looking eyes.

Should she really help him?

Fucking hell he looked like a gangster, talked like a gangster, he probably was a gangster. Before she could think herself into a frenzy she bored the nail of her middle finger harshly into the flesh of her thumb. In the end it wasn't her decision any more. She had found him and now she had to help him. End of story.

“I think the better question is how I can help you.” She finally told him putting on her brave face while slowly coming closer

She could see him draw up one perfectly plucked eyebrow as she kneeled next to him.

The young woman told him her name, easily falling back into the routine she knew thanks to her time in residency. The Autopilot was on at last as she carefully pulled his hand away “I'll try and see what I can do here. You probably should go to a doctor though.”

“What,” he asked, an amused air to his tone “you a nurse or something?”

“I'm a doctor in training. So please, let me have a look.”

She could feel his eyes looking her up and down. “Try anything and I'll kill you.” He said with a short nod to the gun in his hand before letting her proceed.

Now wasn't that just nice. Why had she given him her name again?

As she forced her tired bones to get to work she could feel his gaze on her the whole time. It was unnerving. Would he kill her if she snapped at him to look literally anywhere else?

“Ya know if all Doctors looked like this I'd probably visit the hospital more.”

She didn't react to his words. Similar things were often said and frankly she had stopped caring a long while ago. Instead she focused her attention on his side. She'd need to cut away from the shirt. And by the looks of it get the bullet out before she'd have to stop the bleeding. That would hurt.

“I can only do so much from here. I don't have anything to stitch you up, but I can get the bullet out. Do you have someone you can call to pick you up?”

“Lost my phone somewhere between getting shot and crashing here, I'm afraid.”

How could he sound this nonchalant? God what was wrong with him? That stupid lilt was starting to drive her insane and not in the good way either.

“Alright,” she sighed, “is there someone I can call then?”

At that he grinned. “Atta girl. Gimme your phone and do what you gotta, Doll.”

“Could you stop with the nicknames? I did tell you my name.” She finally grumbled as she got to work after handing him her phone. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it were nicknames given by strangers.

“Must have escaped my notice. You know, being shot and all.”

She did her best not to roll her eyes at him. Something told her that he was one of those people that didn't appreciate it.

“Rin, it's me.” She could hear him speak into her phone again after a short pause, “yeah, I ran into some trouble. Gonna need a pick up. Nah I'm good-”

No he would not. As she was fishing for the bullet she purposely bend her fingers just so, making him hiss in pain. This man needed an actual doctor, not just someone who wasn't even fully trained.

“Fucking hell,” he grit his teeth staring her down with an angry glare that nearly made her shudder as she went back to carefully getting the bullet, “I might need the doc on standby,” he grumbled through clenched teeth, making a smug grin appear on her lips.

“Nah don't think it's anything too serious, I was shot in the side. Just get over here.”

With that the girl could hear the beeping sound of the call disconnecting.

“You're a sadistic little bitch, aren't cha?”

Did this man not know manners? Thankfully for him she finally had a grip on the bullet and couldn't afford to retaliate. “If by sadistic you mean getting you the help you need, sure.” She instead told him this time with an eye roll.

His hand shot around her chin tipping her head up.

“Do you actually want the bullet out-,” she started exasperated only to stop her sentence.

The look in his eyes was shooting goosebumps up her arms. She had been right. He didn't appreciate disrespect even if it was as small as rolling your eyes at him.

“You're a pretty little thing.” He mused to himself before finally letting go of her chin. There was something about the way he had said it that made her heart rate pick up. It was the most threatening thing she had heard in her life. Fuck she should have just kept walking.

As he slowly loosened his grip around her chin she could have sworn to still feel his fingers seconds after they had left her face. His grasp had been strong. Frighteningly so.

“Back to work, Doll. I'd like this bullet out once the actual doc arrives.” The smile that was back on his lips didn't betray the cruelty that had shown through his eyes just seconds ago.

Gritting her teeth she forced her eyes away from his and back to the gaping wound. How could one man be this infuriating?

“There.” She said with finality in her voice as she showed him the bloody bullet. “I'll dress it up now, but your doc will have to do the actual work. I'll need you to sit up a bit so I can take off your jacket and shirt.”

“What,” he asked jokingly, while sitting up with her help, “not even gonna ask me out to dinner first?”

Closing her eyes for a second she breathed out through her nose. Yeah, she walked straight into that one.

As she started unbuttoning his shirt she did her best to let her eyes not wander on the tattoo on his neck. It seemed familiar and something in her gut told her she wouldn't want to know, that if she did remember it would probably be over for her. It apparently wasn't the only tattoo this man had, she realized the more she could see of his chest.

It was a pretty ches- NO. That was weird, she was not going there.

Finally finished with the buttons she ripped her eyes away from him busying herself to find something inside her back she could use as dressing. Maybe if she cut up her work clothes? That could work.

And during the whole process she could feel his eyes on her. Fuck, she'd kill him herself if they ended up haunting her in her sleep.

“How many years of training do you still have left?” He suddenly asked when she was back to leaning above him.

How was this man still talking? She should have duct taped his mouth.

“About six months, then I'm taking my finals,” she told him absent-mindedly finally tying the rest of what was once her uniform around his lower abdomen. And pulling his shirt up his shoulders once more.

“There you go. Will you be fine on your own until your friends are coming?”

The man leaned back. “What, not helping me get to the car?”

Finally out of his reach she rolled her eyes at him, feeling the slightest bit defiant. “Don't push it,” she told him clearly, gathering up the rest of her things.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” He asked mockingly after she had already turned away from him.

Frowning she turned back around and sighed at the sight of him waving her phone around.

Just as she leaned down to him to take her phone, the hand currently not holding it snaked around her wrist lightning fast pulling her even further down until she was back to kneeling next to him.

“You're a feisty little thing. You really should be careful. It might get you into trouble with people that are less forgiving than me.”

Something told her that forgiveness wasn't something he was good at.

With that he finally let go of her and her phone. She scrambled to get away from him.

“Well, I'll see you around, Doll.”

His words send a shiver down her spine. No he would not see her around. Frankly this man scared her. Shit why had she told him her name?

His chuckle at her hurried exit would probably follow her into her nightmares tonight.

The young woman had done her best to forget about the man's existence once she had closed the door to her room and had fallen into bed.

The epiphany about why the tattoo on his neck had seemed familiar came to her one morning before she would have to head to work. She was munching on a piece of bread with strawberry jam, reading the news when she stumbled across the article.

Organised crime.

A syndicate named Bonten.

And the executives all seemed to have the same damn tattoo.

The tattoo that that Man had worn proudly on his neck.

Fucking hell. She had helped a Gangster.

The jam turned to ash in her mouth, the bread suddenly too dry as she reached for her glass of water. The vitamin D tablet she usually took with it long forgotten as she gulped it down.

What would happen now? Would he come back? Surely not if she simply remained quiet. No police, no frantic actions, no nothing. She'd just have to go about her days in peace and forget, correct?

Sadly, the man seemingly didn't want to be forgotten.

It took a week for them to meet again. It had been after a grocery haul after her morning shift, since her fridge was once again close to empty and going out to dinner wasn't an option. She had planned to pour over her textbooks while eating after all.

As she walked down the hall to her apartment, she realised that her front door was open. It made her seize up before arguing with herself that she had been so tired in the morning she had probably just forgotten about closing it correctly – it wouldn't be the first time after all – and if a poor sod actually had broken in, then maybe he could help her find something valuable. So, chuckling at herself she simply thanked God for being able to kick her door open further without having to set down her grocery bags and get her keys out.

The woman only stopped in shock, after looking inside the kitchen and finding a suited man stuck with his head in her fridge rummaging around in it. Before she could decide what her next step would be, probably throwing the groceries into his face and making a run for it, the man turned around and she could see who it was.

The man from the alley. This time no injury, just a grating smile on his far too attractive face.

He had found her.

He had made an effort to search for her.

If that wasn't unsettling, she didn't know what was.

“You brought food,” He called out as if had been waiting for her, “I was getting kinda worried looking at your fridge, you really shouldn't make financial cuts when it comes to food. You already look like I could break your neck with one hand.”

Staring at him she wasn't quite sure how to react. Surely to throw the frozen fish at him would buy her some time, right?

“No need to get defensive,” the man spoke again, while leaning against her small kitchen isle, a cup next to him that she was sure she hadn't used the past days.

“I've come to give you my thanks, doll. You see apparently I was in a tight spot and you really helped me out.”

One brow drawn up she slowly nodded at him, her face slowly loosing all it's previous colour from the walk up to her apartment. “Yeah sure,” she started haltingly, “no problem. Get out now, please? I have a lot to do.”

The man sighed. “I was never received this coldly by someone I didn't hurt. Makes a guy feel a bit special ya know? The name's Ran. Pleasure to meet you properly, doll.”

He was one of those then. One of those overly friendly men you should steer clear off. How would she get him out of her apartment?

“As I've said before,” she started again this time through gritted teeth trying to the best of her abilities to remain civil and not like the deer in headlights she felt like, “it wasn't a problem. Now if you could,” her head moved, signalling to the front door, “please?”

Ran sighed, before she watched his hand go into the pockets of his pants. He looked out of place in his expensive wear and something about it made the young woman feel self-conscious.

She watched, as the man – Ran, pulled out his wallet and started counting out a few notes.

“This should be alright for compensation and keeping as quiet as you have the past weeks, yes?” There was something in his eyes as he put the money on the table. A glimmer. He seemed to find sadistic joy in her worried state.

Gulping down the lump in her throat she didn't take her eyes off him as she nodded.

“My god, you're absolutely adorable. Maybe I should keep you. Call me if you're interested in a date.” With that he left the house, leaving her breathless after he had walked by her far too close making her aware of every muscle moving and letting her catch a whiff of his perfume. Surely something disgustingly expensive too.

Her body was shaking by the time she heard the door close behind him and she finally allowed herself to move into the kitchen and put the groceries on the isle.

Next to the money.

Well, hush money.

Holy shit, that was hush money.

Fuck, what had she gotten into?

How could a man look so much like a panther waiting to pounce on its prey.

She nearly overlooked the piece of paper with a number written on it – his handwriting was apparently appalling, as she went to throw the money away not even bothering to look at how much it was.

If she would have had any inclination to meet him again she probably would have kept it to throw back into his face – though that might be seen as an offence so that probably wouldn't be the wisest thing to do - but since that wasn't the plan the bin it was.

Right along with his number.

If she had to see that disgusting smile again in her death it would still be too early.

That night she put her textbooks onto the coffee table in her living room instead of the kitchen table since she had caught herself throwing glances at the bin, as if that would make him appear out of thin air again. It had reached a point where she had actually brought the paper bin outside only to feel guilty right before throwing the money away.

Someone could probably use that, right? That was the money's chance to finally do something not bloody. Maybe she'd just give it to the next homeless person she saw? Maybe a shelter? Throwing it away out of spite though felt wrong. And so, the only thing actually landing in the trash was his number – good riddance to that – the money on the other hand was now sitting once more on the fucking counter making it impossible to concentrate which is why she then moved her study sesh one room over. The coffee table was too low. Her back would ache in the morning but everything was better than constantly throwing glances that way.

That night, as she laid in bed the clock nearing one am, then two, she realized that she'd need a new lock. She didn't feel safe anymore. There was something particularly intrusive about knowing he had stood inside her kitchen, searched through her fridge and drunken her coffee.

That night she had dreamed of running through the darkness, while a far too familiar grin stalked after her. She woke up just as long lithe fingers found their way around her neck burning her skin.

Abandoning every thought about him, had worked for about two more weeks – work and Uni doing everything they could to remind her of her very real responsibilities, until she had come home from dinner with a friend the Monday after it had been the clean the flat weekend.

It was an important detail because after having pulled of her heels from blistered feet she had walked into her living room intending to fold the laundry that was still left over while watching a show and letting the day finish with a glass of cheap wine – she had recently started to drink a bit more wine at night, it kept the nightmares at bay, but that was a problem for after exams – it was an important detail because on her freshly cleaned couch there was a dead guy who was ruining it with his blood.

There was a dead guy in her fucking apartment.

Bleeding onto her clean carpet.

Pinching herself she tried to make sense of the scene.

“And here I'd thought you'd come home too late. Put this man back together will you?” Her head shot up at the sadly recognisable voice.

That had to be a joke, right? It could not be that asshole sitting on her living room chair having the gall to look like he belonged there.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed between her teeth.

One of his infuriatingly perfect brows rose a bit as he looked at her. She swore his eyes were telling her that she was stupid.

“Guy on your couch. Fix him up for me, sweetheart.” He repeated himself once more.

Rubbing her temple with her index finger she looked at the man on her couch.

“As much blood as he is leaving on my leather couch, might I add, I doubt he is still alive. And don't you have a fucking doctor for that? How dare you just come to me with this shit. I want nothing to do with you!”

Ran chuckled. “See and that's why I like you. So much bite. As your luck has it, that is our doc. Or better yet it was. You see he did some stupid things and now one of my colleagues had to squeeze him just a little bit for answers. So, fix. Him. Up.” The last part of his sentence came out in a bite.

What the fuck was wrong with this man?!

Cautiously the doctor still in training made her way over to the body. How was she supposed to fix that? Why was she even fucking fixing it. That man was not her fucking problem!

“You do know I'm not a hospital or an actual doctor yet, right?” Maybe reminding him would help? Fuck, why was she not less competent? She should have let him out to bleed to death that night

Ran simply shrugged, “Call it hands on practice then.”

Sighing she got to looking at the man bleeding out in front of her. Sure. Hands on Practice. Because that was just absolutely fucking normal. It was absolutely normal to have a man bleeding out on her own couch. And it was absolutely normal to call that hands on practice.

As she got to work, she realized with shame that her hands were shaking the same way they did back that night in that alley.

Oh she should have just kept going. She should have ignored ever hearing his damn pained voice.

Instead of doing all the sensible things though she made stock of the damage and made a list inside her head what she had to do.

“You know,” Ran interrupted the silence, “ you really gotta learn how to feed yourself. I'm pretty sure you've gotten thinner in the time I last saw you which is an absolute shame might I add? What have you used the money on I gave you?”

What was his obsession with her eating habits?!

“I'm concentrating here!” She snapped at him, damn all the consequences, right? After all he did want something from her.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the lazy grin stretching out his mouth further as his hands went up in mock surrender.

“Of course, Princess. I forgot you're very much still in training. Take your time. Maybe not too much though. Don't think you're able to explain a dead person in your living room to the police, right?”

With that she could see him leaving the room only to hear him rummaging around in another room.

What the fuck was wrong with him.

Fucking hell. First thing she'd do once he left was find another flat. Maybe change her name too.

Two hours later she collapsed next to the couch. She had done everything she could. The worst should be over. Looking down she realized that there was blood on her blouse.

Her favourite blouse.

It was a beige blouse.

There was blood on the leather of the couch. And some on the carpet. It was a green one.

And now there was blood on it.

And on her blouse.

It had been a present from a friend.

And now there were ugly red splotches on it.

For some reason that was what made her cry.

It was three in the morning just the weekend after she had cleaned and mopped her whole flat, washed down the windows had gotten the flowers rearranged and now there was blood on her and on the carpet and on her leather couch.

Everything was ruined.

And there was exactly one person to blame for this situation.

Before she could start to think, because she evidently wasn't, she had jumped up from her position on the floor and stormed into the kitchen where Ran was leaning against the counter.

“”How dare you!” She screamed, with a finger raised at him. “Who do you think you are? You can't just, just storm into my life, break into my flat, deposit a man on my fucking couch and then then,” she stopped for a short second only now realizing that he was again holding a cup in his hand, partially raised to his lips as he looked down on her with this, this, this disgusting self satisfied smirk on his lips. “ You are drinking my coffee?” She asked, voice low, “you are fucking drinking my coffee?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She had evidently lost all her brain cells as she reached out to grab it from him only for her hand to be intercepted by his, the satisfaction that was once on his face had vanished and in it's place there was Nothing.

His face was void of any and every kind of emotion. She didn't know what he was thinking. It was such a stark contrast that she didn't even try to get her wrist out of his hand.

He held eye contact when he took a sip from the coffee and he held eye contact when he put the cup down.

Only then, did he begin to speak once more.

“Now then. I know you're young. What 25, 26? Something like that. So I will disregard the blatant disrespect just now, if you apologize. Have I made myself clear?”

Gulping she tried taking a step backwards only to be roughly pulled back by her wrist still encircled in those awful fingers.

He clicked his tongue at her before whirling her around and slamming her against the counter. That would surely leave a bruise.

“Now,” he started again, the free hand finding the buttons to turn on the stove, “I had an extremely long day and I know you did too, so I'll be gracious and give you one last chance. Apologize for your behaviour or well.” She followed his eyes as they flickered to the slowly heating up stove.

What was he?

There was a second where his eyes flickered between the stove and her hand still pinned by his and back at the stove.

He wouldn't, right? Surely, he - “Don't try my patience.” He answered her unspoken question as if he had read her mind.

Gulping she slowly nodded.

“I'm, “she started swallowing the lump in her throat. She just had to apologize. She just had to get rid of her pride for one second and she'd be fine.

“I'm sorry.”

By the way he stared at her it was obviously not enough.

God that fucking asshole.

That fucking disgusting -

“I'm sorry for exploding like that. You're right. I'm tired it was a long day and fixing up the man must have made me emotional. I'm sorry.”

The pressure on her wrist was slowly letting up but he still hadn't let go and he was still looking at her expectantly. What did he want to hear? She had said she was sorry, she had sounded positively pathetic doing it as well.

“Sir,” he provided with that self satisfied look.

Sir? What was that supposed to-

He was kidding right?

He had to be kidding.

One look at his face made her grit her teeth. The man was actually serious. That bastard son of a bitch actually wanted her to -

The movement of her wrist slowly being turned towards the stove had her stop in her track.

She could curse him later.

“I'm sorry, Sir.” She said through gritted teeth.

Evidently it was enough, since he finally let go of her wrist. His hand instead ending up on her head in a patronizing head pat.

“See, isn't it easy to just do as your told? You know, I really don't like hurting pretty things. But I will if I have to. Remember that the next time you try disrespecting me. Alright?”

With that he turned around and left the kitchen, leaving her pressed against the kitchen counter her left hand coming too close to that fucking stove and nearly burning herself if she hadn't realised the heat coming too close.

With shivering hands she turned the stove off.

There was something seriously wrong with this man. She'd call the police and report him the minute he had left the flat. She should have done it after he had broken in the first time. Fuck the consequences. She'd have to leave the country anyways. Might as well leave a nice present for him to clean up after. It might even buy her some more time.

Trying to breath calmly she grabbed onto the counter harshly her fingers turning white with the effort of keeping herself upright. She'd collapse once there wasn't a fucking psychopath inside her flat anymore.

“You'll do well, stubborn little thing.” Ran commented as he strolled back into the kitchen the sound of additional footsteps only reaching her brain vaguely. .

No she would definitely not. She would in fact do so bad that it was the worse he had ever seen. And she didn't even know what he was talking about.

As he came closer and reached out to her she flinched back harshly only to then realise that he had once again grabbed the coffee cup.

It made him smile.

Her fear made the bastard smile.

God she wanted to kick him in his balls. She wanted to take a knife out of the stupid knife block and drive it through his stupid knee.

She watched numbly as another man dressed in a suit walked through the hallway this time with the doctor she had just patched up.

Would they torture him again? This time to kill him off for real?

“Alright,” the bastard started as he leant back against the table as the front door closed once more. She wouldn't call him anything else now, she had decided. The name fit him too well, “ you did a good job with the doc, pretty. So I'll tell you what is going to happen. Tomorrow you'll take your pretty little butt into the hospital and hand in your resignation. You'll come home after that and someone will be here to take you with them. You won't make any kinda noise about it. You'll be a good little doc and then you'll start working for us. Understood?”

God this man had lost it completely. Fuck no.

Looking at the wall behind him she nodded, not wanting to look into his eyes. He smiled at her and pat her cheek once more.

“That's what I like to hear. Well little dove, it was a pleasure doing business with you. I'll see you in the evening.”

She watched him leave. Through the front door. Like he was just a normal man.

Just as the front door closed one final time she collapsed onto the floor.

Her brain both racing and not comprehending anything at all she only knew one thing for sure.

She had to leave. She had to leave the country and never come back.

Fuck.

As the young woman was scrambling about in her flat, throwing clothes into a suitcase, she never realised that outside, Ran stood. A cigarette in his hand, head tilted up as he watched her flat light.

He was waiting. Fuck he hoped she would panic. Chasing her through a few streets would be so much fun. Maybe Sanzu actually had had a point there.

[obae-me]

Hello, and welcome to another installment of niche content containing another mash of my two special interests. Written out of boredom at the airport. Today's edition, fueled with my excitement of being able to go to none other than Miku Expo 2024, I give:

The Brothers As My Favorite Vocaloid Songs!

Yes, I know, please, quell your excitement. I know everyone was waiting for this one. I will take no criticisms or judgments, only enthusiastic additions.

Warning: While nothing stated in this post needs a full content warning, if anyone decides to look up these songs, many songs themselves have plenty of individual warnings, so please search with caution.

Lucifer:

Now, the song I think he'd actually enjoy listening to is Daughter of Evil. It's got tragedy behind it, the song is a bit more classical/waltzy, exactly the kind of thing he likes. However based off his vibes alone, I'm gonna say Honey I'm Home. Mostly because I love Ghost and Pals but also because religious trauma. And I know other people agree with me because I've seen fanart of it.

Mammon:

I think Mammon would listen to Sand Planet. Oo, or Bring it On. Do I have a detailed explanation as to why? Not really in so many words, but it just seems like something he'd listen to, I feel it in my bones. I will not be taking any questions. Now the song I think he embodies? Wildcard. I mean, the whole motif is about playing cards, it's upbeat and fast paced and I love it and I love Kasane Teto even more.

Levi:

I will physically fight anyone who doesn't think Levi listens to Rolling Girl at least once a day (I won't actually fight anyone but I feel very strongly on this matter). It helps him get through hard times but it also makes him cry. Which...same, Levi, same. But if Leviathan were to be a song itself, I'd have to pass it over to Volt Tackle by Deco*27. Pokémon, talking about fighting and struggling at first to capture someone's love? Oo, or Digital Girl. It's got him written all over it. (Or if I want to be sad, give him Anthropophobia)

Satan:

See, Satan is hard because I never know if I envision him listening to heavy metal or if he prefers soft melodies. And, I mean, I know he can like more than one genre at once, but picking THE song I think he'd listen to is hard... but if I'm going off of what I like as well as gut instinct... Abstract Nonsense. Now, selected off his character, I'd have to pick Hikari Yo. It's just very emotional and desperate and the poor demon boi is like that on the inside quite a lot. WAIT or Pathalogical Facade! Oo, lots of options for Good Ol Satan.

Asmo:

Easy, he'd love Gimmie×Gimmie and I don't think I need any further explanation on this opinion. I actually think Asmo would unironically like a lot of vocaloid songs, personally. And as for his songification, I handpick Aishite, Aishite, Aishite. And I know there's a lot of different people's interpretations to this song and everything and people get very... I guess territorial when it comes to this song (at least from specific corners I've seen) but it makes sense to me. It's a really popular song and it's hauntingly beautiful and it's about wanting to be loved and adored and this is MY post so I can say whatever I want about it.

Beel:

Beel is another one that's hard for me to pin down... I think his music taste (joke not intended) is rather eclectic. He probably actually has no real preference other than more upbeat songs to make it easier to work out to. In which case I get to pick whatever I wish. For him I would make him listen to Happy Halloween. I don't care what time of year it is, it's cute and upbeat and about getting treats and it's one of my favorite songs ever. Now one to embody him?... Goodness that's even harder. I would love to say Appetite of a People Pleaser, but Beel's not a people pleaser... I actually don't know! Maybe I am a sham of a fan. I am open to suggestions for my baby Beel.

Belphie:

You know I have to pick Tokyo Teddy Bear. This mans is too edgy not to listen to it all too often. Plus, it's a classic. And, you know I have to make this all even sadder by giving him the song Error. Because I like to make myself cry. And Belphie needs a good cry, let's be honest with ourselves.

I'm also going to add the Distortanist as an honorable mention for unhinged Lesson 16 Belphie.

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 4 [Mack x David]

A/N: *inhales and exhales heavily* Here we go.

I'm sorry...... & good luck. Would love it if you came to talk to me in my asks about this one.

Word Count: 5.1k

Rangers Looking To Make Moves, David Carlson could be one of them.

Insider Sources Hint at Huge Deal Between Stars and Rangers.

Rangers In Search Of Forward Depth: Potential Move Involving David Carlson?

“Mack? Ready in about five?” Her editor, Sonja, asks as she power walks by Mack’s cubicle. 

“Yep.” Mack answers back absentmindedly. She is currently scrolling through her newsfeed, scanning the ballooning elephant of David’s trade rumors. 

Mack tried to talk herself out of looking, but she hasn’t been able to put her phone away. Social media is a dangerous drug. Mack considers herself an expert navigator, but these rumors involve her life outside of 280 characters. The line between reality and rumor has begun to blur. While this happens in her brain, David says nothing. He probably has his reasons, but Mack can’t help but feel betrayed. Why isn’t he talking to her about this? Doesn’t he trust her? This feels like something they should be talking about, even Lucie said as much at breakfast last week.

Mack finishes reading over the comments of speculation. The rumors seem to be trending towards Dallas or Seattle. Mack’s stomach drops out when she realizes how far away both those options are.

“Ready?” Andrew, her colleague asks. Mack nods, putting her phone into her desk and gathering her notebook. The entire walk to the glass enclosed conference room, Mack tries to shed her personal life. Normally, she steps over that threshold and she can become whoever she needs to be to tell a story. Not today.

Today, Mack is quiet, listening to her team members add productive discussion for next quarters issues. Several locations are floated around that should make Mack excited and jumping to go for them. None of them do. Instead, she finds her focus trailing out the window to the building across the street. The world moves around her, but Mack feels stuck in place. Her least favorite thing.

“Mack, how is your hand not up?” Cecilia, another team member, asks. Mack turns back to her.

“What? Sorry?” Mack’s eyes divert to Sonja who looks back at Mack with a neutral face.

“Would you like to volunteer for Ireland?” Sonja repeats.

Mack has been dying to go to Ireland. There is so much to do there, so many different directions she could take her story, and although she has lived in and traveled all over Europe, she hasn’t made it there yet. She is constantly chatting with her coworkers about how she wants to do a story there. But now her hand stays in her lap. How could she leave the country with it being such tumultuous times at home? What if she leaves and David is traded? Coming back to New York and him not being here would slice her open. 

“When?” 

“Three weeks, but you could go as early as Thursday if you want more exploring time.”

“Oh. Um.” She anxiously rubs at her thighs. “I-”

“You could go after Cabo too.” Sonja answers. Cabo is the Allstar trip she has put together for the Rangers with recommendations from her colleagues. Everything is scheduled including a huge house right on the water. It has multiple pools, a hot tub, a private beach, and exclusive access to the Yacht club. 

“I’m gonna have to say no.” She hears herself say. WHAT!?She shakes off her inner demon who wants to launch a ‘just kidding’. Her whole team looks back at her with surprise. “I just need to stick around here right now. If that’s okay? I’ll take something close.” 

“We have that story on hidden gems in America? A lot of them are on the East Coast. Easily day trips.”

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Mack answers with enthusiasm she doesn’t actually feel.

The meeting moves on, but Mack can’t. Did she really just turn down Ireland for New Hampshire? With everyone’s assignments in hand, the meeting ends. Again, Mack is slow to react. Sonja stays behind.

“Are you okay?” She asks when it’s only the two of them. “You are not yourself.”

“I am a bit distracted.” 

“Anything I can help with?”

“Nope. Thanks for letting me stick around though.” Sonja laughs, shrugging.

“Something is definitely up if you’re missing out on Ireland. Let me know how I can support you, okay?”

Mack nods then Sonja power walks off to her next meeting. After swiping her phone from her drawer, Mack avoids sitting down at her cubical and heads straight to the bathroom at the back of the office. She walks into the last stall, letting her back hit the cool tile. Mack’s head finds her hands, awkwardly shoving her nose to the side due to her phone.

What the hell is happening to me?

Her phone starts to vibrate against her face. She pulls back, seeing David’s picture.

“Hello?” She answers quickly.

“Hi, are you home?”

“No.” Worry settles into her voice.

“Oh okay, no worries. I left my wallet at your place. Just figured it out, now Woody is buying me lunch.” He chuckles. 

“Oh, you can go grab it after lunch?”

“Okay, can I wait for you to get home too? Kinda miss ya.” 

“Yeah.” Mack smiles to herself. 

“I’ll take a look at your bathroom sink too. The water pressure is horseshit.”

“I put in a maintenance request.”

“Why? They didn’t fix it right last time? I hope they come up while I’m working on it so I can teach them what to do.”

“Please don’t.” Mack sighs, but she can’t help a little giggle.

“When will you be home?” He asks her. Mack can hear traffic whizzing by him as he presumably walks along a sidewalk.

“Probably a few hours.” She mumbles. 

“Alright. I’ll entertain myself.” He assures her.

When Mack gets home, she realizes that means he cleaned her entire apartment, fixed her sink, and has dinner in the oven. 

“Wow…” Mack trails off as she walks in. She puts her work bag on the counter and smiles at him by the stove. “Thank you. I haven’t had much time to clean.” She murmurs.

“I know.” He nods, toweling off his hands with the one over this shoulder. “I’ve been keeping you at my place a lot. I figure if I created the problem, I should clean it up.” He puckers his lips for her. “Hi.” He greets her after their kiss.

“Hi.” She smiles. It doesn’t quite brighten up her face or reach her eyes, which David takes notice of.

“You okay?” He tilts his head at her.

“Yeah. Tired.” She lies. 

Well, maybe not fully. She is tired, but the things that are keeping her up at night are things she could be discussing with him. Yet, Mack believes that if he wanted to talk to her about any of this, he would have already. She swallows hard, trying to will the anxious energy in her body away. David’s hands on her hips hold her in place when she tries to move around him. 

“I’m not believing that.” He smiles sympathetically. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.” Mack nods. She brushes her hand over his stomach as she walks past. She heads to the fridge to grab a sparkling water from inside. David watches her as she cracks the cap open, taking down a few gulps. She hiccups as she pulls the bottle down from her lips. “Why don’t you go change? That outfit looks great, but you should be comfy with the weather we are having.” He points to the window where sheets of snow fall down. 

“Oh that escalated.” Mack murmurs. She walks to the window, looking out at the droves of swirling snow flakes. She sighs, happy to be in here watching it than still commuting home.

“Mack.” David calls softly to her. She looks over her shoulder at him. “Go.” He encourages her, head tilted towards the hallway. She nods again, doing as he asks and wandering down to her bedroom. 

She knows she is spacey and acting weird. But she isn’t quite sure how to act with him right now. A giant elephant is sitting on her chest and he is behaving like everything is normal. Mack quickly changes into a soft sweatsuit in a sage color. She pulls her hair back into a pony tail, then pulls on new, warm socks with reindeer faces on them that her mom put into her Christmas stocking.  When she walks into the main area again, the TV is playing local news. The sports section is on but it rolls through without any mention of David, other than his goal a few nights ago, the last time the team played.

“It’s weird you’ve had so many days off.” Mack says, leaning against the counter by the bar stools. 

“Yeah. I hate it.” David shakes his head. He pulls the towel off his shoulder, tossing it onto the counter.

“What are we having?”

“Spatchcock chicken and asparagus.”

“Fancy.” Mack smiles at him. He stares back at her. 

“Why are you over there? C’mere.”

“You’re so sensitive today.” Mack rolls her eyes. “If you wanna cuddle just ask. No need to get grumpy that I’m standing across the room from you.” She tries to keep her tone light, but it’s a little snippy.

“Kay, get over here I want to cuddle.” He begrudges. Him and Mack both know she is deflecting. She doesn’t want him looking at her too closely right now.

Mack walks across the kitchen, sliding her arms around his waist. David crushes her into his chest and she can’t help but melt into him. Her shoulders drop, jaw unclenches, and mind quiets completely. The trade rumors dissipate. The worry about what could happen to them floats away. It’s just the two of them holding each other in her kitchen. David’s hand smooths over her pony tail, then begins to rub long strokes up and down her back. Mack turns her nose more into his chest. David tightens his grip on her, then drops his mouth to her hair.

It’s clear they both needed this hug. 

They don’t break away until the timer for the chicken goes off. David pulls it out. As it rests, he roasts the asparagus. Mack puts together a salad with leftover vegetables in the fridge. Then they sit down and eat dinner together with a glass of wine each. When it’s over, Mack and David move through the apartment in sync, cleaning up the main space. As the dishwasher roars to life, Mack flips all the lights off and takes David’s hand to lead him down to her room. 

There, they make love to each other. It’s soft and slow, filled with gentle smooches and quiet moans of pleasure. Afterwards, they tangle their limbs together. David falls asleep first, surprising to Mack. She studies his face as he sleeps, seeing the lines on his face soften in his slumber. With David out, a familiar monster begins to awaken inside of her. 

It comes out in the quiet, darkness of night. It confuses her and brings back all the things that had melted away when she was in David’s arms. A huge lump fills her throat. She rolls over to her other side. Doing so makes David’s hand fall off her hip. A cold shiver rolls through Mack as she buries her nose into the pillow case beneath her face. 

During sex tonight, David had murmured really sweet things to her. He told her he loved her. He told her how beautiful she looked today. He told her how much he missed her while they ran through their different, separate days, that the world gets quiet when she is in his arms. But he didn’t say anything about the rumors that swirl around him in his professional life. Every time he has an opportunity to tell her and he doesn’t, Mack can feel herself retreat a little more. 

Right before he drifted to sleep, David had sleepily murmured that he couldn’t wait until they find a place together. The memory of that now has a single tear dragging down Mack’s cheek.

Because for the first time, she doesn’t feel like her and David are on the same page. He is already thinking about them moving in together. She’s never thought of that. She’s never thought of anything beyond the current day with him. Now he sees a future for them that Mack isn’t sure she wants this way. A future outside of New York isn’t of interest to her. If David isn’t in New York, there is nothing tying them together anymore, therefore if he leaves New York nothing ties him to her anymore. 

Meanwhile, she has stupidly turned down assignments to stay with him. Her brain is consumed of thoughts of him even when she is away. Panic begins to thread through Mack’s body. She’s too in love with him. This is all way more than she signed up for. She never wanted this. He’s changed her entire life and she went along with it.

How could she have let this happen? How could she have let it go this far?

Mack rolls to her back, staring up at the ceiling. Tears race from the corners of her eyes, falling into her ear canals. This has gone too far. She can’t do this with him. With perfect timing as always, her monster starts to whisper:

You’ll never be able to keep him. You can’t pretend all the time to be good enough for him anyway.

Mack shudders at the words that slice deep into her soul. She wipes her tears then wills herself to sleep. 

In the morning, this will all look different. She is sure of that. 

Long before the sunlight streams into her room, David awakens her to make love again. He is above her, dragging his cock through her core with soft strokes that set her on fire. When she shudders through her orgasm, he fills her up with his own, then collapses into the bed next to her. As his breathing evens out, he brings her into his side, holding her close to him.

“I’m excited about our future.” David murmurs, fingers getting slower. “We’re gonna give Lucie and Connor a run for their money.” He kisses the top of her head. 

Guilt swirls through Mack’s body. 

David continues planning for a future with her while she is choking in fight or flight. 

A tear slides silently down her cheek. David’s soft breathing behind her tells her he has fallen back to sleep. 

Mack blinks more tears down her cheeks, bottom lip trembling.

He deserves so much better than this. So much better than her. Those words are no longer the dark monster from before. Instead they’re just the truth.

And she’s going to make sure he is free to find what he deserves.

In his arms, attempting to memorize his touch, she starts to make her plans. The Ireland assignment comes to mind.

On Thursday, she’ll go there. Do what she was always going to do.

Run.

Or fly… like the humming bird he compares her to.

He won’t be surprised. He’ll be hurt, sure. But he’ll move on. He has to.

She tells herself this is all for his freedom. 

But deep down, the monster reminders her its for her own.

- - - & - - -

(David)

On Thursday, David looks down at the burger he ordered, mouth salivating at the big, half pound patty dripping cheese and bacon grease. Now this is a damn burger. One he might even find in his home state. Props to the place for sticking to the owner’s midwestern roots. He assess the sandwich, deciding two hands on this one would probably be best.

“That looks fire.” Connor murmurs. He opted for a French Dip sandwich and fries. 

Between the two of them, there isn’t a green vegetable in sight. 

“I’m going to crush this.” David confirms. He unrolls his silverware set, putting the napkin in his lap just in case some drippage misses his plate. Connor does the same.

“I’m so excited to have beef. Haven’t been able to have it at home since…” Connor trails off. David raises an eyebrow. Connor grins then shakes his head. “I can’t tell ya.”

“Slut.”

“Can’t get enough of her, man. Don’t act like you don’t get it.” 

David smirks. He does get it. In fact, he almost cancelled on this lunch so he could stay home and bury himself between Mack’s thighs again and again. But Mack said she had to get some work done, so here he is for the second time in two days eating lunch with his D partner. Mack and David had transitioned over to his place last night to meet up with the Woods. He loves that she is comfortable working from his place when he isn’t there.

David swipes a tater tot through some ketchup then pops it into his mouth. He hopes by the time he gets home Mack is doing better. She was weird when he left this morning, weird last night too. He is glad they have some time together before he goes on the road this weekend. Mack has an assignment in New York that is keeping her home with him during that time. All he wants to do is go to the rink, order glutinous take out and fuck. 

Connor hulks down a huge bite of his sandwich as David digs into his burger. He needs his napkin immediately, swiping it across his covered lips. 

“So how you doing with everything, man?” 

David swallows.

“What do you mean?” He asks, then goes in for a second bite.

“With the rumors.”

“Oh. I’m not listen.” David dismisses. “I can’t worry about that shit and play. It’s too hard.”

“Yeah, I get it. I was the same. Where are you at with your contract?”

“Doug said we would talk about it after the season. My agent doesn’t think here is any concern. It’s not like I’m gonna ask for the bank.”

“No, but get what you’re worth. I need you around here with me. Can’t handle the Hischier girls by myself.” David chuckles. Silence fills the space between them as they both take a few more bites. “How is Mack taking it all?”

David pauses mid-chew. He shakes his head slightly, then answers when he swallows.

“We haven’t talked about it since none of it is true.”

Connor looks up quickly from his fries. They hover in his pile of ketchup as alarming blue eyes look across the table at David.

“Yeah, but you warned her and everything right?”

David’s tongue runs along his back molars as an awkward silence fills the table.

No, he didn’t.

“I mean, no? She knows that shit out there isn’t true.”

“Sure, but you told her that right?” Connor clarifies, pointing at the center of David’s chest.

David stares back at his defensive partner. Slowly, Connor’s mouth falls into a cringe.

“That is not the person to leave in the dark on those rumors, man.”

As if Connor’s words are the final puzzle, it all clicks for David. The way Mack was this morning. How she turned away from him immediately after sex last night. How quiet she has been, almost to the point of calculated. His heart hammers to a stop in his chest then a big intake of air raises his huge shoulders.

“Oh FUCK!” He yells. 

She’s running.

He knows it and the awareness cools his blood, sending a chill down his spine.

“What?” Connor asks, concern etching his brows together.

“She wanted me to go to lunch with you so she can run. I’ve gotta go, Woody.”

In a calmer moment, David would pull out his wallet and throw down a few bills. But a glance at his phone tells him he doesn’t have time. He’s been gone for over a half hour. She might already be packed and he’s gotta stop her. His long, athletic stride carries him the five blocks back to his place. He rushes by Philip without a greeting, then pounds the up button on the elevator.

“Come on!” He shouts when it takes too long. He eyes the stairwell, but his heart might explode if he runs up all those flights of stairs. The doors open and he almost barrels over a couple and their kid as he rushes in. “Sorry.” He mumbles, pushing the button for his floor, then the ‘close door’ one repeatedly until it does. He bounces on his feet, heart pounding in his ears as he attempts to catch his breath. The doors open, he flies into the hallway, not seeing her. He tries the door on his place and finds it open. 

Fuck, he hopes she is still here. 

“Mack!” He yells. 

No answer. 

His sneakers slap hard against the wood floors as he heads down the hallway. He can see her pony tail floating in the doorway. Instant relief flowing through him.

She’s still here. 

His relief is short lived when he walks forward and sees her packed suitcase on the bed.

- - - & - - -

(Mack)

Mack is zipping up her suitcase when she hears the apartment door open. Her gaze snaps to the doorway. David’s hurried foot steps rush down the hallway. She frowns, then goes back to stuffing her phone charger into the side pocket. This is not ideal, but she planned for it. She is ready for this interaction. Ready for him to beg her to stay here with him and prepared with an army of reasons why they are never going to work, now or in the future. 

“Mack, stop packing.” He calls to her from the hallway. Mack freezes. Of course he already knows. She keeps going, putting the suitcase on its wheels. They meet at the door of his bedroom. “Babe, I’m not going anywhere. I talked to management. None of this is real. I’m not being traded.” Disappointment has Mack sighing internally. She wishes he had told her this days ago.

“Okay.” Mack shrugs, keeping a blank face. David frowns. His eyes move to the right, looking over his room. Every single thing of hers is gone, down to the collection of hair ties on her side of the bed. “I’m heading out of town for awhile on a long assignment. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” David chews on the inside of his cheek, searching her face. He shakes his head slightly, looking confused and hurt.

“Mack, what are you doing?”

“I’m packing.” She swallows hard, hating the way her voice wobbles slightly.

“You’re going out of town. Why do you need your house slippers?” He motions to where they used to sit by the door.

“Because I want them at my place.”

“So, you going out of town means you aren’t going to keep anything here either?”

“I don’t see the point to that.” Mack shrugs. “Like I said, I am heading out on a long assignment. I’m going to be gone for awhile. I’m not sure when I will be back, so I’m taking everything with me.” 

“What?” He questions. “Where are you going?”

“Ireland.”

“Since when? You just told me two nights ago you were here in New York through the Allstar break, and suddenly you’re leaving for an undetermined amount of time?”

“Yeah. That’s this business.” She says flatly, unemotional. David shakes his head.

“What is happening?” He whispers, getting closer to her. He reaches out for her cheek and Mack immediately pulls away. “Is this about a few nights ago? I didn’t mean-“

“No. It’s not. But that was a reminder to me how… different we are. And I think we should be realistic about our shelf life.” David’s eyebrows furrow together. That hurt him. Mack looks away, not wanting to see the sting on his face.

This is inevitable, the monster reminds herself. She’s just pulling the plug before they go back to hating each other and make this harder for everyone around them.

“Shelf life?” He sighs heavily, stepping aside for her to pass by him. He is hot on her heels into the main area of his place. “What the fuck, Mack? We love each other.” 

“For now.” She shrugs her shoulder, going to her purse and double checking she grabbed everything she needed from the main area. She finds her water bottle and phone where she put them a few minutes ago. She’s officially packed. Mack grabs the key to his place, trying to ignoring the light up, corn key chain and the way it burns her skin in her hand. “I can give you your key back.”

“Stop.” David snaps, enclosing her hand with his. He grabs the keys out of her hands. He shakes his head, looking at her, panic all over his face. “Just…” He licks his lips, looking out at the city. “Talk to me.” 

“I am. You don’t like what I’m saying.” She retorts. 

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. We literally had an incredible night and I make a comment about how I’m excited to move in together someday, and you’re running now? What are you afraid of?” He emphasizes the last line at her, pausing with his hands out to the side. The Iowa keychain in his hand is blinking red, green and blue. Mack stares at it, pursing her lips. A huge lump swells in her throat. She tries to swallow but can’t. 

“I just don’t think this is going to work.”

“What?”

“You and me. So I think we should.” She moves her hands apart. “Go in different directions.” 

Stunned, David straightens. He blinks, trying to absorb the blow of her words. He runs the hand without her keys in it through his hair then blows out a heavy sigh. His hand roughly rubs at the stubble from where he shaved his beard off yesterday, leaving only his signature mustache. Mack blinks off the slight hitch of his breathing on the inhale. 

“Okay.” He nods his head, taking another deep breath. 

David stands on the other side of the island, green eyes intense with emotion as he pins her to the cabinets behind her. He shakes his head then stands to his full height. The keys in his hand slide across the counter to her. They skid to a stop next to her right hand. His arms cross over his chest.

“Okay, I’ll see you when you get back then.”

“David.” Mack rolls her eyes, throwing the keys into her purse.

Why won’t he let her go easily? How can’t he see what she sees? How different they are? How this started with them hating each other and grew into this thing that was never supposed to happen? How she isn’t meant for this WAG, farm wife, American lifestyle that he wants? She needs to be free- wings wide open so she can breathe. Not turning down assignments and worrying about moving to Dallas.

David doesn’t say anything else to her, just stares her down. Mack can tell he is holding everything he can inside. For her benefit or his, she can’t tell.

“I don’t know when I’m coming back.” She reiterates.

“Okay.” He is eerily calm now.

“So we should go separate ways.” 

“No.” He says clearly and assertively. “You wanna run from me, baby? Then just run. Go. But when you’re done with that, and you come back home, I’ll still be here, loving you. You can more your shit back in then too.”

Mack swallows, looping her arm through the handles of her bags, looking down at them because she can’t look at him. 

“It’s for the best.” She repeats. 

“Mack. I love you. So much.” He whispers, words rough and callused like his hands from working the farm his whole life. The words sound painful as if they rip up his body when he says them. Nothing like the ones he whispered to her last night when they made love. 

It almost gets her to stay.

She hesitates for three more seconds, but her mind screams go. So she does.

“Goodbye, David.” 

He puts his head in his hands as she turns to walk out of the kitchen. She can hear his heavy, uncontrolled breathing behind her until the closed door cuts them off. 

Mack doesn’t breathe the entire ride down the elevator. A numbness comes over her as she tries to convince herself to keep moving forward. She thought she would feel better after doing this. That she was holding them back, him mostly, and cutting the tie would give her back that feeling of freedom she craves. The freedom that he deserves too.

All she feels now is dead inside.

Mack walks out of the building, strutting across the sidewalk with her hand high in the air to hail down a cab. She isn’t sure how her feet are moving so fluidly with how violently she shakes.

“Goodnight, Ms. Hischier.” Philip calls cheerfully behind her.

“Bye!” She calls, waving over her shoulder. She can’t turn around. If she turns around, her feet are going to go right back through that door. 

And she just can’t.

This is not who she is.

She isn’t a WAG. She isn’t a farmer’s girlfriend. She isn’t anywhere close to wife material or a forever kind of girl.

She is a runner. A lone wolf. Who should have taken that elevator home a year ago instead of jumping into bed with her brother-in-law’s teammate. 

The words continue on like a self-deprecating mantra she can’t silence. 

David deserves better. He deserves a wife. Someone who wants to settle into that small country life with him, or in Dallas, and stands next to him through the storm. Not someone who can only see this working if all the cards are stacked in their favor.

Mack, I love you. So much. His voice rings through her brain.

“Fuck.” Mack sobs, shakily trying to breathe in the back of the cab as it pulls away from him. 

Over her heart, her fingers clutch his number on her neck. She pulls, snapping the necklace off her body.

“Ow.” She whispers to herself as her head falls back to the head rest.

If this was what she needed to do, then why does it hurt this damn bad?

Read more Mack and David here.

[drdemonprince]

Do you have any advice for autistic people who just can't work anymore? I achieved all of the things I was supposed to - fancy college degree, eventually switched to a high paying career - but now I'm finding that I just can't work a traditional job anymore. (I'm privileged in that I can do some work, but it needs to be remote and on a flexible schedule, which is virtually impossible to find.) I've been searching for advice on this but haven't found much so far. Everyone talks about burnout recovery but I don't feel like I can ever recover enough to go back to how my life was before.

I have a whole chapter devoted to this in the sequel to Unmasking Autism that I am writing -- many Autistic people (including myself) come to this point, and it unfortunately requires us finding and creating means of subsistence for ourselves that exist outside of conventional 'independence' under capitalism. Every person's means of surviving who is in this position is a little bit different, but generally it is a cobbled together amalgamation of getting on government benefits such as disability or unemployment, relocating to a place in your country with a far cheaper standard of living, pooling resources together with roommates, family members, friends, community members, etc, doing part time or under the table work for additional spending money when possible, living in a trailer, houseboat, van, or other alternative to paying rent, finding a way to become more interdependent with other people (for example, handling childcare for a friend or loved one who works, being an in-home cook/cleaner for someone with a high paying job), etc. There is no easy or simple or satisfying answer to this situation; if there were, millions of people who are currently homeless would not be. But broadly speaking, the Autistics that I know who cannot work but are safe and sheltered and feed and reasonably okay in life utilize a combination of those options -- and that's my long-term plan as well, I can't sustain what I'm doing for much longer.