#one day I can be someone's little trophy pet

[buryustogether]

yandere alastor x fem!reader hcs

sfw + nsfw below

i have this idea that, when you were both still human, alastor married you for a marriage of convenience (probably tax purposes). he's not one for love, but he does quite like to make things easier for himself, as well as a bit of reliable companionship from someone he can trust. he found it rather cute that you were head over heels in love with him.

he insists upon keeping you at his side almost 24/7. you accompany him everywhere; to his station while he's broadcasting, about town as he runs his errands, even to his overlord meetings, though you are forced to wait outside. he knows you won't up and disappear; even if you weren't such a good little pet, there isn't anywhere you could run that he couldn't find you.

the other overlords tease alastor about his little 'pet' he keeps on such a tight leash. he doesn't ever object to this title.

gives you dancing lessons and doesn't allow you to rest until you can copy his movements exactly. if you collapse from exhaustion before that, he'll coo and brush your hair out of the way, then haul you to your feet and start again from the beginning.

he won't have you doing much other than keeping your shared home clean and occasionally cooking a meal or two. you're his darling, he can't have you wearing yourself out taking care of him. he'll do most everything - he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him.

won't allow you to leave the table until you finish the meals he makes for you.

loves to have you hanging on his arm. you're like a precious little trophy for him to show off - only his, and no one else's.

being alastor's beloved companion makes you a prime target for blackmail and kidnappers, but he doesn't want you to fret, dear - he has it covered. his shadows are on your trail in the extremely rare occasion he's not with you, and he's killed demons for less than even looking your way.

doesn't allow any kind of modern technology inside his home or upon your person, even if you died long after him. he considers cellphones to be the property of his enemies, and you wouldn't want him to catch you wearing the symbol of the v's, now, would you?

he picks out your outfits for each day, even has them custom made at the tailor's just for you. he knows best, darling, so don't fight him on this. he doesn't want you going out looking like some common harlot, not when you belong to the radio demon.

often takes out his frustrations of the day on you at night when you're alone in his bedroom. he bites and scratches and thrashes like a beast trapped in a snare, and he relishes in having you wear the marks when he's done.

his favorite position to have you in is plain old missionary; not only is it traditional, but he enjoys having complete control over you while he bucks up into your heat.

like most animal-based demons in hell, he enters a rut once a month and rarely emerges from his quarters; which means you don't, either. at least three times a day, and he only stops to give you rest and to whisper the filthiest things you've ever heard in your ear.

enjoys bondage to an extent, but only on you. he's not opposed to pretty little collars wrapped around your neck, either.

now, when you're in the mood and he's not, he's not totally cruel. while he won't fuck you when and wherever, he'll allow you to straddle his thigh and hump his leg like an animal while he continues whatever work he was doing before.

he may often be brutal, he knows aftercare is extremely important. he can't leave his darling bruised and broken for next time, can he? licks up any blood he may have drawn and ensures you drink when you're done, even if he has to hold your back against his chest and tip your chin up to force the water down your throat. he'll usually run you a bath and, surprisingly, will gently bathe you before dressing you in the finest bedroom silks in hell and putting you to bed.

he doesn't sleep much, but since meeting you, he's replaced many of his nighttime activities with sitting at the side of your bed and watching you sleep.

alastor doesn't love; but he knows he would tear hell apart at the seams if you were ever taken from him.

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.

PILE 1

7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.

8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.

9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.

10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)

12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.

1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.

2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.

3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)

3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)

4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.

5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.

6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.

7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.

10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.

PILE 2

5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.

7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.

10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.

5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)

7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.

Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.

PILE 3

4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.

7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.

8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.

8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.

10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.

12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.

2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.

3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.

5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.

7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.

[satoruhour]

Loved the recent sukuna racer au 😭😭😭🩷🩷 can you elaborate a bit more on geto in the same racer au? 🥺🩷🩷🩷🩷

LLOROMANNIC

a/n: thx 4 this ask anon, this is rlly long bahaah i hope u enjoy! more context here. for recap, reader is in japan for an exchange programme.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: (fluff @ the start, smut comes in later) virginity loss, soft dom!geto, geto really really is obsessed w/ you, oral / cunnilingus (eats pussy like this! like i really don’t know what this position’s called), pet names, slight nipple play, clit stimulation, fingering, slight size kink, p -> v penetration, protected sex, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knows how the two of you became so close after that fateful meeting. they’re still wondering how you drew suguru in so effortlessly — some say you planned it, others say it was just by chance, but you’re not too sure yourself when all you can focus on is the racer beside you muttering into your skin a year after.

it was a(n almost) blissful six months when you first start out. that day he did keep his promise, winning the race without breaking a sweat and you cheer for geto unconsciously, catching the curious eyes of gojo and nanami who exchange looks — maybe you’d finally be the someone to capture geto’s heart.

geto made an effort to u-turn back to the corner he was parked in with the passenger side to you and he leans over to open it for you, but in return it just gathers more attention. “shall we go?” you try your best to escape the prying eyes of the tokyo crowd, and with a wave to the other two, geto is speeding off once you’ve gotten into the car.

“so… why’re you driving me there?”

“why cinnamoroll? berry and cherry’s a hundred times better.” he comments, and much to your dismay, he just answers your question with a less serious question than yours.

“why not?”

“well i mean…” was this man really about to lecture you on sanrio characters? his explanation is brief, but detailed, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh — although a snort still leaves you — just as he turns into the next carpark that you were supposed to go into instead and he’s asking what? like he didn’t just ramble about two sanrio demon characters. 

“eh, it’s just cute that a scary, cool racer guy like you knows so much about sanrio.” you giggle when you watch him find an empty spot, and you’re trying to not let it affect you: the dragon that wraps around his bicep right to his forearm, the tense of his muscles, the addictive line of his jaw that trails all the way down to his collarbone—

you don’t notice your choice of words until geto uses that chance to fluster you instead.

“it’s just what?” he’s all up in your personal space like he was earlier before pulling away — a quiet, chilling tension that sends your hairs standing, left arm going behind your seat to park his car perfectly in the lot. his jawline is accentuated by how he turns behind to reverse (he hopes parking effortlessly would get you to like him more); suguru’s good at always making you want more, you realise that.

“cute.”

you’re mumbling and once he’s got the car in, his arm comes back round, a teasing hand pressed up to his ear. “what was that, hm?”

and maybe you were wrong to think he was being a decent person among the sneers and mockery of the crowd earlier, and you frown, thinking if you’d really want to entertain him. there’s a dilemma in you: what if he was just like the others, the loud, cocky ones who only ever cared about their cars? suguru looked just like the part, too, and if you weren’t careful, you’d probably end up being a trophy piece for him to bring around.

you just sigh. “thank you for driving me, geto-san.” it’s rigid as you say it, an inner turmoil within you; you hope it doesn’t show.

and he immediately regrets his silly question. he doesn’t blame you for standing your ground especially after the whole spectacle before the race started, watching in defeat as you slam the door to his Mazda a little harshly. hurriedly his eyes dart around the dashboard for paper, messily scribbling down an apology together with his number, along with some cash — he did promise to treat you to something in that cafe, but he was confident you’d want nothing to do with him; for now, anyway.

“hey, i’m uh— i’m sorry. it was out of line, enjoy the event, ’kay?” geto genuinely looked sorry, a sheepish smile spreading across his face and he hurries away before you can say anything. he’s lamenting over it upon returning, talking to gojo who could barely care and nanami who’s zoning out, about how you looked so innocent and stunning by simply sitting in his car.

and you? you’ve resorted to telling yourself how you’d only send a message to the mysterious number only after getting back home, after a shower, paper creased and unintelligible at some point that you almost typed in a ‘6’ in place of an ‘8’.

you’ve broken your own rule already once you’re stepping foot into your home because your finger immediately opens the empty chat, hovering over the button to send the message you’ve drafted two hours ago. your heart pounds and you feel dizzy — you never wanted to die so bad before.

suguru’s mood remains sour until later in the evening where an unknown number texts him with a faceless photo of a cup of cinnamoroll cappuccino and a crème brûlée with cinnamorll’s face on the caramelised sugar. he knows it’s you from the outfit you wore earlier and geto can’t help but smile, dwelling on what he could say to you that wouldn’t sound stupid.

god, geto was a racer. he was supposed to be cool and a natural at flirting, but he can’t believe he’s already deleted his drafted message for a fifth time, not noticing how you fluctuate between being online and off, too.

he doesn’t answer you like an idiot because while you’re nervous over the simple text, geto wants to tear his hair out — until he gets an idea; he’s off the bed in a minute, hastily grabbing his leather jacket and putting his hair into a bun.

eventually he manages to say something that sounds nonchalant.

[19:23, geto → UNKNOWN]: enjoy your cinnamoroll coffee?

suguru waits patiently when you type and stop, and type and stop, and he uses that time to sprint to his Mazda and to speed to a close-by 7-eleven. he was sure to find some sanrio merchandise in the store, face lighting up when he comes across a mediocre cinnamoroll keychain — and after a small battle with himself he also adds a duo berry and cherry keychain to the pile — he just needed to figure out when to give it to you.

a notification interrupts his daydreams.

[19:29, UNKNOWN → geto]: better without you here

he knows you’re joking with the way you send a sticker after.

[19:30, UNKNOWN → geto]: but thank you for the treat.

and for driving me

and for the number

geto chuckles, paying and leaving the store before he lets out a breath.

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: want to come out for a drive? i really want to apologise for earlier

and every doubt ceases to exist, your contemplation ending right there, head snapping to your clock to look at the time. if you could get dressed fast enough—

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: and also i just… want to get to know you

i’ll meet you at that same parking lot where we met. i’ll wait for you, okay?

—you could see the mysterious, brooding racer again. despite your outburst, you couldn’t deny the adrenaline you felt sitting in his car, bickering over which character was better, seeing the raise of his eyebrow on his attractive face. you don’t trust yourself to type anything else so you simply send a thumbs up emoji, jumping up to get ready in the darkening and freezing tokyo landscape.

shouting out an excuse, you bid goodbye to your parents and race out the door, white wisps of your hot breath appearing as you reach the car park in record time, seeing him nervously leaning against his Mazda. you smile. seems like you weren’t the only fidgety one.

“how’re you doin’?” geto clears his throat, but you just grin, getting into his passenger seat. the tips of your fingers tingle, you hoped the adrenaline would help you even a little.

“you called me out because you want to show off, right?” that loosens suguru a little, letting out a laugh at your unexpected comment.

“sure did.”

the next hours are spent speeding through the streets of shibuya, with you scared out of your mind at first. but when geto looks over to you with a blinding smile, you ease into his leather seats, slowly getting used to his sharp and precise turns.

geto is focused on drifting on specific turns, smile fading into a serious expression as he slams on the break and changes gear, steering the wheel sharply and you find yourself staring freely, a smile tugging on your lips at how so damn good he looked at the moment.

the night ends up with letting you try out the car for a bit, and even geto is surprised at himself because his RX-7 was something he cherished deeply, but to let someone try it was beyond him. he’s laughing with you, telling you that drift racers do not need to use turn signals and you burn in embarrassment, but other than that you have a good time, a quietness settling as he pulls up to your host home in japan.

“come to my next race?”

you bit your lip. you can’t lie, geto suguru is handsome as hell and you’re already hooked, unaware how the other wants you just as bad.

“sure thing, suguru.” the first name seems to catch him off-guard, even more so when you lean over the stick shift to peck his cheeks. 

geto spends the next five minutes touching the skin where you kissed it, the loud rev of his engine reflecting exactly how he felt.

geto suguru was a goner.

every text, every call, every outfit (by god, geto did not care about what he wore, until he got with you) was for you. geto suguru was the gentlest with you, always asking if you’re okay with whatever he does. a hand on your waist, a peck to your cheek. he eases into the relationship, a plethora of night races lined up in his roster since he didn’t want you to miss any classes. nor could you underperform, because if your grades weren’t up to standard, you’d be sent home — your actual home back in your country. it came easy, though, apart from the sneaky makeout sessions in between geto telling you you used ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ in your essays.

“y’know you don’t have to wear it, right?” geto laughs, placing a kiss to your temple while your mouth twists at the shape of the miniskirt, gifted to you by his sister who had worn it in the same scene, too. your boyfriend only whistles when you place it to your front, hands tightening just a little around your waist when he sees just how short it is.

“so?” you emerge from the bathroom a little while later, his oversized shirt on you looking a bit weird with the miniskirt but his breath hitches when you pull the top up, admiring the way the miniskirt hugged your figure so well. “i’m not sure if i like it, su…”

“that’s cause you’ll need other sort of tops, baby,” geto simply smiles, beckoning you over with a hand. it’s criminal how easily you follow the gesture, moving to stand between his legs. his rough hands leave hot trails of fire along your thighs, inching dangerously close to your ass. “you’ll need,” an unsatisfactory kiss on the denim of your skirt, suguru frowns, “a crop top,” a kiss to your hip bone. “or maybe a halter,” a kiss to your other hip bone, “a tube top,” a kiss to your stomach, “or maybe even a cami?” the grin geto gives you is sickening sweet as he lists them off one by one, each kiss getting closer and closer, from your hands to your shoulders, until they finally reach your face and your heart is beating like you were in fucking seven minutes in heaven.

“how’d you know so much?” you’re twiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt.

geto exhales, placing a sweet kiss onto your lips, “when you’ve been racing underground for quite a bit… it’s easy to pick up on the fashion. but—” he melts all your worries away when he takes your cheeks in his hands, “but even if you weren’t dolled up, i’ll still be lookin’ at ya. you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“my prettiest girl.” suguru mumbles, getting lost in your lips again with a promise he’ll take you shopping the next day.

you ease into the miniskirts soon enough. though you don’t exactly abandon your old style, you also love the freedom of wearing teeny skirts with skin tight tops, legs and ass on display for all to see while geto simply smiles no matter what you wear. he thinks you look stunning either way.

“what do you think?” geto asks inwardly if you were really the same person who loved cinnamoroll, legs on display and safety shorts hugging your ass so well as you twirl around in your room — geto wasn’t opposed to just panties, either; he knows he can throw a decent punch. you’re donning the piece of apparel so well that he feels himself getting hard.

“i think my baby looks gorgeous,” suguru smiles, sauntering up to you before wrapping his bigger arms around your middle before coating your face and neck with kisses but your mind’s wandering into the gutter with how you can see both your figures in the mirror. you’re thinking just what it’ll be like to fog up the mirror with your shaky breaths as geto rams into you from behind, but you snap out of it before he notices, turning around in his embrace to land a kiss to his lips.

“a good luck kiss for my racer boy,” you giggle, hands getting lost in his hair. you’ve become more bold too, geto realises and he decides that maybe tonight he’ll have you before you leave to finish your university semester and his heart clenches at the thought of you leaving — six months is six months, after all. having to resort to facetimes and timezones and late night messages is the reality, but he’s willing to try.

if it’s you, he’ll try.

one thing led to the next; it was your miniskirt riding up your legs, it was the way you ran up to him after he wins, jumping into his arms knowing these were your last few days together. just like how you were obsessed with geto suguru, he was besotted with you.

“is this okay with you, (y/n)?” the way he says your name has you wishing he would do it over and over in that pleading voice of his — it’s just the first of many.

“you’ll be taking my first, suguru.” you mumble out as his lips trail from your jaw to neck, and it makes him freeze. maybe you shouldn’t hav—

“you want me to be your first?” geto asks breathlessly, like he’s been told he won the lottery. he couldn’t believe how you’ve been untouched this whole time, yet your sultry gazes and untamed hips say otherwise.

“you’re such a little minx, teasing me and shit, but you haven’t lost your virginity?” his fingers caress your cheek and you preen at his tone, leaning into his touch. 

you hum and smile, “i never lose.” and you giggle when he laughs, capturing your lips in another kiss. the playful mood fades into the prior one, feeling the other get rougher with his kiss while his hands start to wander more.

“tell me to stop whenever and i’ll stop, okay, sweetheart?” you nod, squishing his face in your hands.

“i’ll be okay, su,” you grin before wrapping your legs around his pelvis, pulling him onto your needy cunt. he’s already hard, a dark spot forming at where his tip was. “i’ll be okay, especially when i fuck myself thinking it’s your cock.”

suguru’s jaw drops just a bit and he craves you even more by then, flipping up your skirt and pressing kisses along your thigh. he was determined to wipe the sick little grin off your face. he was determined to make you cum so hard you’d regret teasing him at all.

you hardly have any attitude for him once his tongue meets your pulsing clit and groans into your core, licking an experimental stripe up your folds. “better than your fingers?” suguru grins when he glances up and all he can see is your head thrown back, a subtle nod that’s got him back into feasting. he alternates between flicking your bud and sucking harshly, his calloused hands that you always admired around the steering wheel are now on your thighs, spreading them apart when you start to close them. by now your skirt’s soaked from how wet your pussy is, mewling and whining for your lover for more.

“you taste so fuckin’ good,” geto mumbles into your folds, giddy on the tangy sweetness of your juices that he has to reach down to squeeze his cock, “my girlfriend’s pussy tastes so good.”

“f-fuck… suguru don’t stop—” in the large bedroom, it’s filled with moans from you and the lewd sounds of your pussy, which escalate into a shriek when he’s suddenly pushing you up, weight transferred onto your shoulders and neck, not before making sure you have a pillow under you. “su—!”

“oh— ooh shit!” geto easily manhandles you as he props you up, your body bent uncomfortably while your hips continue to buck in his mouth and you aren’t sure where your legs go. it gives him better access to your cunt as he dips his tongue into your hole, nose nudging into your clit while you’re clutching onto his forearms for balance; his front supports you perfectly. geto’s onyx eyes bore into yours when he eats, moaning softly when he feels you clench around his tongue.

“you close?” he commits you to memory: how your toes curl and your stomach contracts. how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he feels so tense too, cock twitching in his underwear that it’s begging to be in you. “my baby’s g’nna cum, hm?”

“y-yes— ’m close mmf...” you can hardly manage a nod, moans escaping in between one worded sentences and you’re sure your legs are shaking from how good geto was giving it to you. with the hands that spread you out, one goes to your nipple to pinch it while the other plays with your clit, pressing and rubbing on it and a choked suguru leaves your lips.

“cum,” the one word has so much command over you, paired with the ministrations he was so skilled at that you’re clenching around air when you reach your high, euphoria crashing down on you with how you see white and your body feels tired already. “that’s my pretty girl, god, you’re cumming s’much.”

it takes awhile for you to come down from your orgasm, but despite your fatigue you already find yourself wanting more when you shoot geto a grin, heart fluttering at how he massages your thighs and bring you back down.

“you okay?” geto mumbles, pecking your knee softly, inwardly smiling at the way your legs still jolt and shake at your climax, “got my princess shakin’ and all.”

you giggle before you’re pulling him toward you, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, jumping a little when geto slips in a finger easily. you’re easily moaning into the kiss, reeling from just how one finger feels in you, slipping in so easily just how soaked your cunt was. 

gotta prep you for me, ‘kay? he whispers against your lips before a second goes in and you have to break the kiss to whimper. relax, baby, suguru’s voice is so intoxicating that you’re doing the exact opposite. you’re so tight that geto has to take a moment, imagining what you’ll feel like around him, but it’s not long before you’re begging for more that he starts moving his fingers into your cunt.

they are soft, gentle on you that you’re already tugging on his waistband, swallowing geto’s chuckle and comment about just how eager you are. in that bedroom, you’ve gotten him on his knees just by existing, pussy still drooling and your body contorted in such sensuality that he’s already worshipping you unconsciously. you gasp a little when he finally removes his underwear, eyes fixated on the pretty dick he’s got in his hand, leaking so much pre-cum just from eating you out. he makes quick work to grab a condom out from his bedside drawer.

“i’ll make it fit. gotta relax, yeah?” he hums into your skin before he rolls the condom over his cock as you watch, impatient. along with some lube, he smears your juices around with his tip, relishing in how you squeeze his forearms.

and when geto suguru sinks into you for the first time, tip nudging past your folds and stretching you out at first, a long whine leaves you just as geto groans out because you’re so warm inside that it’s got him dizzy. your eyes try to flutter close but geto mumbles that he wants to see how good he makes you feel, body hovering over yours like it’s forbidden. but he knows if he sinks into you with the feel of your tits on him, he wouldn’t last.

“s’big, suguru— ah!” eyes struggling to stay open, your arms hang around his neck, the feel of the rubber in you not entirely pleasant but suguru hitting all your spots is enough to make up for it. you’re just dripping and dripping non-stop that it leaks right down to the sheets before the other bottoms out in you, a teasing grin on his face. “told ya it could fit.” the stretch is borderline painful, and like a good boyfriend, he waits for a few to get you accustomed.

you roll your eyes with a soft smile, taking deep breaths before you feel like you could handle him, “move, please…”

“gettin' to it, my love,” geto’s cock is so big you swear you can feel him in your stomach, mouth dropping open when he moves slowly, grunting at your clamping hole, “i don’t think i can last long, baby.”

you breathlessly laugh, “yeah, me e-either.” your back arches off the bed as suguru starts to find a pace, thighs already burning from the taut pull of his muscles, something he’s done unconsciously because of how divine your cunt felt. with a hand you’re rubbing at your clit, evident it’s your first time when your hips are already bucking in mini shockwaves, sucking in his length that it’s not long before you’re moving your pelvis to meet his.

there’s the squelching noises of your pussy and little pants leaving you, pussy already convulsing around him with the release of the twist in your stomach. you’re clenching as you cum hard on his cock and it drives the other crazy, the tightness of your entrance that restricts his movement that he settles for short thrusts just to orgasm, spilling heavy loads of cum into the condom. geto groans into thin air, hips stuttering and pulling out incase there’s a rip in the rubber. it’s obvious you’re still unfamiliar with each other’s body in such an intimate setting, stuttered apologies and cleared throats, but soon geto’s leaning down to lock lips with you to quell the first-time awkwardness.

“was that okay? are you hurt anywhere?” you shake your head with a smile.

“that was more than okay, suguru,” you’re sleepy from the race, from the late night, and it’s clear all you want is sleep. it’s clear when you melt into suguru’s embrace and his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest when you find his hand to twine your fingers together, with his other one rubbing your thigh affectionately.

geto feels that same feeling paired with a certain dread when two weeks later you’re kissing him goodbye at the airport, pink luggage in hand while your nose starts to redden a little. you always know what to say, slowly getting used to geto’s habits. a huff when he’s annoyed, or a quick furrow of his eyebrows when he’s distraught. “it’s not the end of the world, baby.”

suguru only pouts, hands caressing your sides just outside the departure gate. “i know, i just— six months?” 

“you’ll survive,” you smile softly, brushing the bangs from his face, “you did it before me.”

“i know, but now that i’ve known you, you’re all i think about,” geto huffs, “i…”

there’s many more things he wants to say, how he’ll be sure to keep your things until you return, how thankful he is that you (willingly!) gave him an underwear of yours, how he struggles to breathe just seeing your name. he just hopes you’ll miss him just as much, but he restrains himself knowing your flight’s in an hour.

“you’re all i think about, too,” you mumble and swallow uncomfortably, ashamed to have tears already brimming at your eyes, “i’ll come right back after i finish the sem, alright?”

“i’ll hold you to that.” geto smiles, although it’s laced with a sadness, kissing you softly one last time and bearing himself for the countless texts and video calls to your foreign number. you both can taste the salt in your tears, sniffling like a lovesick fool at the immense feelings you have for this man.

love. you haven’t even said the words yet.

as the racer watches you pass through the departure doors, he gives one last glance to the cherry keychain hanging off your carry-on, giving a similar longing glance to the matching berry one on his bag.

geto leaves the airport before anyone can see the wetness in his eyes, too.

[glassrowboat]

🎲 I am always one for enabling

4. A kiss atop the head.

One Kiss, Blue Fish. Furina.

Word count: 900+

One kiss for her, one kiss for the little gold colored statuette. A habit now so ingrained into your routine as keys pressed into your palm on your way out the door that it was simply instinct to lean down for both of them. Even after the first layer of golden plating started to wear down and revealed a greenish hue beneath.

Oxidation. Something you have had the chance to grow familiar with as the old statues of dogs in the park tucked away between the building of the capital, all beared proof of their noses being scratched and petted. The sight of it alone had you shaking your head, a smile always fighting to turn your lips up ever so slightly.

This habit had all started from a single joke. One comment, that's all it took after Furina had brought home the mini version of her (err- or the Hydro Archon that she was) that now turned to being part of your daily life.

Your fingers had been gliding over the reward as you heard her debating over what to do with it after coming home. Her gloved fingers clutched onto it in a way that failed to hide how they shook just from the sight of the thing alone.

To place it proud and center on the mantle, she pondered. Maybe even bury it away in the guestroom that you only ever used once. Long forgotten after Furina had grown accustomed to sharing a bed with you. Or, simply, toss it out like it was trash?

To that, a startled and over dramatized gasp left you. Hand to your chest to truly sell that bit of how hurt you were at such an appalling suggestion. “You would dare toss the image of my lover in the garbage?”

So, after your ploy of pretending it mattered more to you that it truly did and a spat that was more playful than anything, you placed the mini Furina on the mantle. Tall and proud. Placing a kiss to its little head, you had turned back to her, a cheeky smile on your lips.

A habit set in stone from there on.

One a certain someone clearly wasn't a fan of as her cheeks were puffed out, and a pout graced her features just like that day.

“If you're just going to give out two kisses, you might as well give the second one to me too.” She insisted, head turned away from you as she held up her nose.

It spoke levels about how comfortable she was with you. Willing to give attitude and sass she would normally be afraid anyone else would look at and think of the Hydro Archon she once represented. But there was no need for that here. Not with you.

“That so?”

Taking a strand of hair, that same one that stuck up in the air no matter how much she tried to tame it in the mornings, you twirled it around your finger. The shades of blue and white were almost hypnotizing to watch even when her head bounced up and down to nod.

“Yes! It only makes sense you would give me, your lover, your affection instead of that thing.”

“Now, now, my little mermaid.” You teased as her gaze fell on the golden trophy, eyes surely puncturing the cheap plating covering it. “I can give you two kisses from here on out if you really want.”

Her small little giggle filled the air, seeming appeased with this outcome. For now.

“And I'll give the little replica two on the way out, too.”

She called your name, a high-pitched whine that accompanied her tugging ever so slightly on your sleeve. The way she always said that truly did capture your attention, more so than anyone else who's ever used it before as you bent down to her height.

Eye to eye as you asked “yes?”

“If that's what you're so intent on doing, then you'll have to give me three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Wrapping your arms around her waist, the frills of her outfit tickled your arms as she moved in a little closer. The shuffle of her heels heard on the hardwood floor as Furina moved into your hold. “But of course, three kisses.”

If it makes her happy, then it's more than worth it.

“Then take this from the top."

Furina grabbed your keys off the mantle, pulling them away from the statuette you placed them next to when she had first called for your attention. Rattling in her hand as she placed them in yours.

“All the way from the top? Next thing you know, there will be a clapperboard telling me when I can and can't start helping you bathe.”

“T-that’s not important right now.”

Before she could pull away, to hide her blushing cheeks behind a false attitude and layers of hair she hoped would block her face away, you pressed your lips to her hairline. The perfume Neuvillette gifted her after her departure from the Palais Mermonia, only welcoming your touch even more.

Drawing your in closer as you muttered “one kiss, two kiss, three kiss,” with every peck to her forehead. Only a small part of you is resisting the urge to continue teasing her and say ‘red fish, blue fish’ to finish your little poem.

Alas, that can wait another day.

Just like how tomorrow you plan to give three kisses to the statuette just to see Furina pitch another fit.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ohhh, Sometimes women's breast get clogged up with milk, könig would use this as the perfect opportunity to be close to you and massage your chest to help, he's just so sweet helping you out like that.😊

Omg omg omg of course he’d help her!!!

CW: Postpartum phase, children, light angst, breast stimulation, yandere undertones.

König has become soft ever since the baby was born.

You read somewhere that men's testosterone levels suffer a significant drop after they become fathers, which perhaps explains why he looks like a melting marshmallow in hot cocoa these days. König's stare has always followed you wherever you go but now that you're carrying his child in your arms, the looks he gives you are far more… benevolent. You suspect he must be proud of you, first carrying the baby for nine long months and then suffering an arduous birth - because of course this titan's baby weighed over 8 pounds - and now you're giving your everything to the soft little thing König calls "his kleine Butterblume."

You're in a baby bubble together, but not all days are heavenly and sweet. And now, on top of everything else, your breast is clogged. The lady at the maternity clinic told you this is a common issue and can easily be dealt with at home, but the instructions you received left you staring off into space for a few moments.

Later that evening, the problem is still very much acute, and you're getting desperate.

When you go to König and beg him to help you, there is a sharp intake of breath just before he nods. An odd striptease show ensues in silence: you're puffy and swollen and sore, you feel like a wreck as you take off your shirt and bra. König has always referred to you as a flower or a heavenly being, but now, you must resemble a sullen bloom at the end of July. Overblown and weary, heavy and plush, petals pouting, falling if someone were to touch them.

You feel like crying from seeing that König still worships you with his stare. If anything, he seems to approve of the extra pounds and your devastated state, only looks you up and down with boundless hunger, silent but with a heaving chest. When you're bare, he rises, and you're turned around and pulled in a stout embrace. Large, warm hands land over your poor, aching breasts, and you quickly remind him to be gentle - the instructions were to pet the breasts like you would a cat. He rumbles a dark laugh against your back, and then the hands start to massage you, blessedly soft but imperious.

Your sighs grow heavy and weary. It hurts a little, but the relief is imminent. Your head rolls back to rest on the mountain of his chest, and then you begin to sob.

You let it all come out as a series of soft, sad little whines: how tired you are, how the baby is far more work than you thought, how your breasts hurt all the time and how you don't even know if you're doing things right. How you just want to sleep…

He rubs you through your breakdown, and it's soothing to be held by someone as strong as König… But then he pants a hot wish in your ear.

"I thought we'd soon make another one..."

"Mh, wha–another one?"

"Ja, sicher. We must make three or four at least. Oder?"

You are about to collapse, about to faint, but can't because a demigod is keeping you from falling.

"Don't worry little lily. I know you need to rest first. I'll wait a few more weeks."

"König–"

You shudder as his thumbs brush over your nipples.

"Am I doing it right?" He asks with a low, soft purr.

Your mind is in disarray, a trophy from not getting enough sleep for months, and you're tired of struggling against his indomitable will. First things first, you think, stuffing the earlier conversation somewhere into the recesses of your exhausted mind.

"Um. The lady said you should–that you could… try to suck them too," you breathe with unease.

"Ist das so?"

You're moved to the bed before you can even whimper.

...Is he so eager to do this?

Of course he is; you haven't had sex in months. He's only had his own calloused hand to keep him company, and you've been too tired to even think about such things. Your body has become a stranger to you, and when he moves to crawl on top of you, it only looks like the prowl of an apex predator.

The coarse stubble of his chin makes you flinch – it's like an array of tiniest daggers caressing your breasts. When he takes your aching nipple into his warm mouth, you shudder. It feels utterly different to have a grown man sucking on your tits; it's ten times more demanding, a hundred times more intense when the man in question is König. The hunger, the overstimulation, the exhaustion make your head spin, his mouth and tongue force you to release your stress in shakes. Before you even know it, there are tears streaming down your face.

He doesn't stop. Probably thinks it's only a good thing that you get it all out of your system. He must feel good about himself for making you cry while lapping and sucking at your breasts, he rubs, licks, and nibs until you're sniffling and wailing on that bed.

"Little angel… I've never been this hard," he pants on your slathered, slick nipple. "Do you know what it does to a man to look but never touch?"

Your tiny, weary heart is flapping against its cage. "König, we can't make another one… I can't, I can't, not yet…"

"Ah… But if I promise I'll pull out?"

[lovlidollie]

Neither movies talk about Feyd’s darlings very much. Does he have any personal connections with them?? Does he take pleasure in having sex with them?? How often does he interact with them??

i see them as trophies. in my humble opinion, i think they’re the wives of his toughest opponents in the arena. he’s killed their husbands, left them as widows, and has taken them as concubines to further humiliate their family. i think they’re fairly new, he would have collected them one after the other forming his own little harem. feyd wouldn’t know anything about them other than the fact that he had beaten their late partners, and he wouldn’t be interested in trying to get to know them personally. now he doesn’t collect the wives of every guy he fights, that would be a bit too much. instead he only takes from those that got the closest to permanently maiming him.

i think he would have enjoyed having sex with them a lot, especially when he was a little bit younger. when he’s fresh off the adrenaline from killing someone, the guards would bring them in (sometimes only one, other times all three) and he would fuck them in front of whoever he’s just killed; doggy style with his pet’s head in the sand near the body so she can lap at the blood. fucking them in front of people especially is a sure-fire way to insert his dominance and his control over his pets and those around him. feyd doesn’t go out of his way to pleasure them though. he goes to them for his pleasure. he’d let them suck his cock, bounce on it; he’d use their holes however he wanted, drag sharpened knives down the harsh planes of their bodies. but he wouldn’t go down on them. he wouldn’t offer them the softness of his touch. the pets wouldn’t care for it either way; he’d hardened them, turned them into monsters that thrive off of blood and cum alone. he prefers positions where he doesn’t have to look at them. i think feyd would also use them as an intimidation tactic. ‘oh you won’t give me what i want? guess i’ll just get my harpies to eat your wife’s brains,’ or ‘obey me or i’ll let them have their way with you,’ (which doesn’t mean anything good trust me; his pets are borderline more fucked up than him)

if he were to interact with them on a daily basis i think feyd would go insane and slaughter them. they’re for fun. for pleasure. not for everyday. they have their own little room, and he’s given them the autonomy to kill whoever wanders too close to their quarters. he feeds them plenty of blood and bodies and that keeps them satiated enough until he needs to fuck something. feyd only brings them out in public public when there’s a particularly strong message he wants to convey. i also think that he doesn’t really enjoy fucking his pets. while yes they do everything he says, they were a bit boring. he only fucks them every couple of days, even if it means he’s more pent up and aggressive because he hasn’t been able to cum in a a wet hole.

[sweetenerobert]

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐕𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

DAY TWO OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

tattoo artist!tommy miller × male reader

genre: sisters boyfriend tommy, childhood friends to lovers, explicit, no outbreak au, minors DNI

prompt: taboo au + “do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."

summary: your sister’s boyfriend catches you reading smut in the kitchen and sees if you want to make your own smutty chapter

warnings: strong language, homophobic sister, cheating, mention of an age gap, face fucking, unprotected P in A, choking, spanking, dirty talk, pet names, creampies, fingering, spitting

word count: 7.4k

a/n: thanks to @morallyinept for listening to me rant about this, love you 🤍

It was your twenty-second birthday, and to say you were excited was an understatement. You’ve been looking forward to this day for a few days, why? You were getting your first tattoo ever. Your two best friends, Kevin and Eli, made you an appointment — already paid for.

You’d also discovered that your sister was planning for everyone to meet her boyfriend on the night of your birthday party. Your sister, Sasha, tends to steal your thunder — a handful of times. Once, when you were five, and she was seven, you made a Lego spaceship, and she had made an even bigger spaceship — with popsicle sticks.

That one time when you were thirteen, and you had gotten a cross-country award, and she was fifteen and had gotten a giant volleyball trophy. But this day didn't bring you down as much as you wouldn't let it.

After pulling up to the tattoo parlor, your excitement almost exploded through the roof. You’d gone through Pinterest last night like a rich person going through a Gucci store — overzealous. Making so many decisions, you were conflicted between three options.

The smell of a mint air freshener hits your nostrils first rather than anything else. The lights weren't so bright that they hurt your eyes, more or less made you have to cover for a second. Next, you saw the big flashbooks sitting on the small coffee table. But something else caught your eye — more importantly, someone.

His hair was slicked back — stopped by his neck. His neck was covered with tattoos, and his arms were covered with tattoos. He had a septum piercing, and his ears were stretched — having a small gauge in its place. His shirt was tight. You could see his pecs bulging underneath. The man was glancing down at his phone as the bell from the door didn't get his attention. As Kevin let go of the door, the bell rang, the man brought his head up, and a smile was on his face.

“Hey, sorry. Didn't notice you guys were standin’ there.”

His Texan accent was thick. It sent shivers down your spine hearing it.

“It’s fine,” You dismiss. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, a lil tired, but good,” Tommy smiles. Tommy gets up from his seat, walks around the counter, and walks before you, Eli, and Kevin.

“So, who's the lucky sumobitch to get a tattoo?”

You smile and raise your hand as Eli wraps his arm around your shoulder. “This boy, he’s twenty-two.”

“He’s not a little boy no more,” Tommy smirks.

“He is not, he’s been wanting a tattoo since forever,” Kevin smirks.

“How come you’ve never gotten one before?” Tommy crosses his arms.

You shrug. “Never really had the time, and when I did. I would always forget about it.

"Well. This is your first step into becoming a man," Tommy smirks.

"Isn't that what your father says during puberty?"

"Yes, but this is also an important milestone in a young man's life, and I'm more than happy to start that."

You rub your hands in impatience, more than feeling anxious. You were ready and excited for this day to continue and drag slowly. You didn't want it to end anytime soon.

"Let's get this show on the road," You exclaim.

"That's the spirit. Since this has already been taken care of, you can come with me,” Tommy states, walking.

You eagerly follow Tommy, standing behind him; you can't help but admire his back muscles in his tight shirt; the way it hugs his back does something to you. His pants hug his ass to be firm and cup his buns perfectly. You shouldn't feel this way ─ especially on your birthday. You appreciated Tommy's distraction, but you wanted to keep your head focused on this day. So you snap your head back to look up at Tommy's neck.

You look up at Tommy, making the distraction harder to contain. Your thoughts travel from clean to smutty when you think about how your hands would look tangled in his hair, your nails clawing his back as he thrusts his cock deep in you.

You had to shake your head to eliminate those dirty thoughts you were thinking about. You and Tommy arrived in a small room with a hydraulics chair in the middle of it, a TV mounted on the wall, and a desk arranged with a bunch of equipment you didn't know except the tattoo gun resting.

You looked nervous as Tommy turned around to look at you; you were rubbing your hands slowly, glancing around the room, and biting your lip. "You fine?" Tommy questions.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at Tommy. "Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about something, and it distracted me," You dismissed.

Tommy crossed his arms with a smirk on his face. "What were you thinkin' about?"

"You fucking the shit out of me and calling me a good boy," You thought.

"A birthday present I've wanted for a while," You spoke. It wasn't a total lie. You've been wanting a book for quite a while but never had the time to try and find it.

"What's the book titled?" Tommy nodded. You couldn't tell if he was trying to catch you in a lie or if he was genuinely interested in the book.

"Sweet Dandelion by Micalea Smeltzer," You smirked. "Why are you interested in a book anyway?"

Tommy chuckles, "What? I don't seem the type to read?"

You shrug your shoulders. "No?" You question.

"You'd be right; my girlfriend said I should buy a gift for her brother, and the suggestion she gave me: books. Importantly, romance books," Tommy explained.

"Of course, he has a girlfriend that puts my horny mind at ease," You thought.

"It is a romance book, more on the forbidden side."

"He might like it. I have impeccable taste in books," You comment.

“Is this a special occasion or something?”

“It's his birthday today, and I wanted to give him somethin’ out of the kindness of my heart,” Tommy shrugged.

“Aw, that's sweet. Even if you don’t know that person.”

“I just want everyone to like me, y’know. I don't want to make a fool of myself,” Tommy admits.

“You won't, just be yourself. I met you five minutes ago, and you seem cool.”

Tommy smiles. "Yeah, I bet. Anyways, you have a design in mind?"

"Oh," You exclaim. "Yeah, gimme a second." You pull your phone out of your pocket. Scrolling through the choices in your camera roll, you pick the option you decided on last night and show it to Tommy.

He strokes his beard and nods his head. "Got it, sit down. Do you need anything to drink?" Tommy asks.

"Water's fine," You state.

You sit in the hydraulics chair, watching Tommy leave the room. You have a smile plastered on your face in excitement. Your hands kept patting your thigh into a rhythmic beat, waiting for Tommy.

As you slowly glance your head around the room, Tommy walks in the room holding a water bottle in his veiny hands.

"Here ya' go, songbird.”

"Songbird? That's a new one," You smirk.

"Your friends made the mistake of telling me one of your favorite hobbies," Tommy smiles.

"Remind me to slap them later," You breathe.

Tommy's laugh made you smile and caused heat to rise to your cheeks. Grabbing black latex gloves and slipping them on his hands with a snap. "You ready to get this show on the road, butterfly?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "I'm ready.

It had been a few hours since you got your tattoo, and you couldn’t stop staring at it. Likewise with your family, but more looks of questioning and disgust from your sister. Kevin and Eli were excited about how your tattoo looked.

You were sitting in the dining room — at the dinner table, your mom had made your favorite dishes for your birthday, and your mouth was watering as you waited for Sasha's boyfriend. You were eager to stuff your face with all the food in front of you. You were bouncing your leg to think about anything else to distract you from the air scents whiffing to your nose.

"Does it itch?"

You turn your head to look at your mom to hear her question. "Yeah, I mean the ointment the guy gave me is working, but the urge to itch it is high now," You admitted.

"I still can't believe you still got a tattoo," Sasha stated.

"I'm twenty-two now, and I barely drink. So, a tattoo was a better option to play it safe on my birthday."

"What if you get an infection?" Sasha questioned.

You shrug. "I'll deal with that when that road comes into view."

"You're insane."

"We've established that already, sweetheart," You smirk.

"Now, now, Sasha," Your dad started. "He's an adult, and even adults need help on occasion. Son, if anything happens, let us know. And we'll help."

Your dad grabs your shoulder in a comforting way ─ knowing how intense his daughter can be.

"He's right, honey. If anything happens, let us know," Your mom smiled.

You smiled at your mom and dad's comforting tones. You and Sasha tended to be at each other's throats at times, her usually breaking your spirits. Your parents dreaded it whenever you two argued. At times, you both could say and resent each other and not speak to each other for days ─ your longest time? A week.

Your dad glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Sasha, where is this boy at? Your brother and I are starving, and this food is going to waste."

"Daddy," Sasha starts, grabbing her phone from her jeans pocket. "He said that he ─ oh he's here," Sasha smiled, getting up from her seat.

You, Eli and Kevin turn your head as the three of you hear a loud engine roaring outside. "How much you want to bet, he's got a tiny dick?" Eli questioned. You and Kevin both snickered. Glancing at the door, Sasha's standing outside cheerfully like a child seeing the ice cream truck.

Your mind had drifted back to the tattoo artist. You wondered if you were ever going to see him again. You missed his smile; his tattoos were intriguing, and you wished you had studied them more as you were in his chair. You also yearned to know what his name was. Eli and Kevin forgot who his name was when you asked them when you left. Tapping your finger on the table, waiting for Sasha to return, you hear the door open, and Sasha starts talking. “Everyone! I want everyone to meet my boyfriend,” Sasha starts. A person begins to walk in as Sasha talks; You, Kevin, and Eli are wide-eyed to see who's coming in.

It was the same guy who did your tattoo hours ago. He walked in, a beaming smile on his face, wearing a leather jacket and a wrapped gift in his hand. Wearing the same jeans you admired him in prior, you bit your lip to calm yourself down.

“His name is Tommy, and he’s a tattoo artist,” Sasha smirked.

You were too stunned even to acknowledge your sister's statement. You knew who Tommy was hours prior. The same man you fantasized about, who did your tattoo hours ago, is dating your sister.

“It's nice to meet everyone,” Tommy smirks.

“His name is Tommy?” Kevin asks.

“I forgot about that,” Eli admits.

“Of all guys, Sasha could’ve dated. It had to be him,” You whined.

“Hey, dummy. Come and get your present,” Sasha’s voice snapped you out of a weird, one-sided conversation with your friends.

You reluctantly get up from your seat and walk towards Tommy. A look of shock and confusion appeared on his face. You anxiously rub the back of your neck.

“Songbird? Sasha’s your sister?” Tommy questions.

“Songbird?” Sasha questions.

“Oh, that reminds me,” You turn to look at Eli and Kevin. “I’m going to hit you both.”

“C’mon, we were looking at ideas for your birthday, and karaoke came up,” Eli starts.

“We both know how much you love to sing, and maybe we found one, and we could go to it after dinner?”

“I’ll revoke the slap for now,” You nod, turning back to look at Tommy with a smirk, indicating he was nervous. “I hope you like it,” Tommy states, handing you the gift.

You take the gift from his hand and glance down at it in your palms. You don't remember when someone wrapped a birthday gift for you. You appreciated Kevin and Eli’s gifts, the tattoo mainly, but in the past, you’ve never gotten a hand-wrapped present before.

You appreciated that Tommy took the time out of his day to hand-wrap you a gift.

You glance at everyone staring at you in anticipation.

“You guys want me to open this now?” You question.

“Yes,” Everyone except Tommy spoke, making you jump out of your skin. You reluctantly open the gift-wrapping paper and rip away at the material as you feel the object's hardness underneath. Take the paper entirely off and see what’s in your hand.

A book you have been looking for a long time. Sweet Dandelion in your hand. The same feeling of being overzealous you had a day ago was rising back up again.

“Holy God, where did you find this?” You ask.

“I went to three different stores to find this book, and I had to gift-wrap it as soon as I got home. That's why I’m late, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“This is amazing. I forgot that I even talked about this with you.”

“You really shouldn't have gone through all this trouble,” You suggested,

Tommy waved his hand. “Like I told you, I wanted my girlfriend's family to like me, and I think I got bonus points for her younger brother.”

You were smiling from ear to ear as you wrapped your arms around Tommy’s neck in an embrace. He was tall, so it felt like hugging a tall stuffed animal. Tommy wrapped his arms around your back and patted your back. As your face sat in the crook of his neck, you felt Deja vu — like you’ve done this before — with Tommy.

You back up from Tommy’s hug, the leather of his jacket making a weird sound as you back up. You look at Tommy with a confused look as he gives you an awkward smile. “Thanks,” You manage to breathe out.

“No problem, it was no trouble at all,” Tommy dismissed.

“Sorry to interrupt, whatever that was. May you three sit down so we can enjoy this delicious food,” Your dad exclaims.

“Please? I’ve been hungry since,” Tommy smiles.

“Well, come on, then. Sit down, everyone,” Your mom waves at the trio standing up.

You, Sasha, and Tommy take your seats, where Tommy sits next to Sasha — near your father. A grin arose on your face as you could tell that Tommy was metaphorically shitting his pants.

━━━

Minutes ago, after dinner had ended, you were standing on your porch, arms crossed, watching Kevin and Eli admire Tommy’s car — a 2016 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, and watching your father and Tommy talking about the car. You couldn’t help but think about Tommy halfway through dinner. That feeling felt so surreal, and yet you yearned for it again.

“Mom and Dad seem to like Tommy,” Sasha states.

You nearly jump out of your skin hearing your sister.

“Oh! You jump. “What?”

“I said, Mom and Dad seem to like Tommy. How do you feel about him?”

“Oh,” You breathe. “Tommy’s cool and funny. I see why you like him.”

Sasha nodded. “Are you guys leaving soon?”

“Yeah. Would you like to join us?” You question.

“God, no! I don't know how you do that karaoke shit.”

“It's fun — especially when in a group. Do you think Tommy would want to join?”

Sasha turned her head to look at you with disgust written on her face. You could feel her gaze on you, and you turned your head. Whenever you see this look on her face, it usually sends chills down your spine and back — the type of chills that you want to hide from your older sister.

“Do you have a crush on Tommy or something?” Sasha interrogated.

“What? No! I can’t,” You spat.

“Good. It would be best if you stayed away from Tommy. I can tell you make him uncomfortable.”

“How do I make him uncomfortable?” You question.

“With that little hug, you have him inside earlier. You didn't stop staring at him at the table.”

“Our dad often interrogated him. I was interested in the questions and how Tommy would answer,” You spoke.

“So that must mean you’re interested in him,” Sasha retorted

“What? No what is your—”

Sasha turned her whole to stare at her younger brother with such anger that made your stomach churn with how intense her stare marked your soul.

“Stay away from my boyfriend, and we won't have any issues,” Sasha growled and retreated inside the house.

Sasha always tended to assume that you liked her new boyfriends when, in reality, you wanted nothing to do with them. But Tommy could be a different story. You weren't sure how you felt about him. You knew the Southern was attractive, but he’s dating your high-maintenance sister, and you would try your best to stay away from him. No matter how much his “bad boy image” would distract you.

Glancing back at your two best friends, they’re conversing with Tommy while you notice your dad walking up the stairs to the porch. “Have fun, son. Stay safe,” Your dad nodded. You smiled and nodded as your dad’s hands make contact with your shoulder — comforting you.

Your dad walks into the house. You see Eli and Kevin walk to Eli’s car — the conversation with Tommy seems to have ended. You reflectively walk to the back of Eli’s car — hand on the handle, but you yearn for that feeling with Tommy again that you did the unthinkable despite your sister's protests earlier.

“Hey, Tommy!” You exclaimed. Jogging towards the Southern, Tommy turns around to face you. As you are in front of him, jogging to him makes you receive that same feeling you received hours ago — that deja vu crawling from your stomach to your throat. Now, you were sure you must have known Tommy before.

“What’s up, Songbird?” Tommy asks.

His voice sent a chill down your soft cock. You wished how it would sound from behind hearing his voice.

“It was nice getting to know you, and thank you for the book. I hope to see you more around,” You smiled.

Tommy's smile could light up a room; hell, he could bring the sun back up from its dusk state.

“I would like that,” Tommy nodded.

As Tommy started to walk away, you had another question arise from your throat. “Hey!” Tommy turned to look at you. “One more question, and then I’ll let you go home.”

Tommy chuckles. “You can bother me anytime.”

“Before you permanently drew on my skin, do you think we have met before?”

His pupils glanced up at the dusk scenic sky, drew his lips in a frown, and shook his hand. “Can’t seem to think of any time, any reason?”

“Nah, it's nothing important,” You waved. “See you, Tommy.”

“See ya’, Songbird.”

You smile as you walk away from Tommy. That nickname would keep making you feel specific ways you shouldn't be feeling.

The days Tommy had come over the house felt countless. You’ve seen him more times than Eli and Kevin. After work, you only want to lounge in your bed and forget about being an adult. But then you see Tommy’s car in the driveway, and you are scared to enter cause the idea of hearing your sister's moans makes your skin crawl, and you feel physically ill.

But the times when you heard them, you wanted to crawl into a hole and be buried alive. Tommy usually would have to sneak in the house, but you would rarely listen to what happens when the two were together, and you were grateful for that. However, sometimes, you couldn't sleep, and you hated the sounds your sister would make.

But the grunts, praising, and degrading that Tommy would spit out made you feel a certain way you would hate to tell anyone. Sometimes your cock would twitch hearing Tommy’s voice, having to bite your lips to stifle your moans.

This was one of the rare nights where you couldn't sleep, and you didn't feel like wasting time lying in your bed. You would hate to admit it, but the book Tommy gave you was your favorite thing to read. You were reading in the kitchen, sitting in the high chair — feet dangling near the floor, book in hand.

It was a quiet night. Mom, Dad, and Sasha were sleeping, but you knew Tommy was over the house. You heard his car coming up the driveway. However, you didn't hear anything from Sasha’s room — which you were grateful for. You couldn't tell if you blanked out the sounds or if nothing was happening.

Too involved in the book you were reading, you didn't hear Tommy behind you — your back towards the opening he walked through. You were too concentrated on the book even to notice Tommy. It was only until Tommy's tall stature towered over you — his head over your shoulder.

“Whatcha’ reading?” Tommy asks.

“Jesus!” You exclaim, clutching your chest.

Tommy retracts his head from colliding with yours.

“Sorry. I scared ya’. Can I open your fridge?”

You turn half of your body to look at Tommy in confusion. “It’s insane that you are one of the only people who’s asked me that?”

“Really?” Tommy interrogated.

You nodded. “It's the southern charm of Tommy Miller that all the ladies love,” Tommy smiled.

You chuckle. “Help yourself — also, don't let my sister hear you say that other girls love that southern charm — she can be a bit possessive/intense.”

“Is she?” Tommy asks, grabbing the milk carton.

You scoff. “I’ve lived with her my whole life. I understand her intensity.”

Tommy chuckles, shaking the carton. “Hey, another question —”

“You can drink the milk from the carton if it's empty.”

Tommy looks overzealous with joy as he opens the cardboard container and brings it to his lips.

Your eyes slowly traveled to his neck as you watched him gulp down the milk. Eyes slowly trail down his bare chest as your mouth goes dry. You swear Tommy is drinking the milk slower than a baby does; Tommy’s chest and abdomen were covered in abstract, colorful tattoos, and you saw them as you yearned to trail your fingertips all over his tattoos.

Your eyes glance at his V-line, and you would hate to admit how much it turns you on that Tommy’s so defined in his muscles. Eyes glanced down even lower to Tommy’s hardened cock —

You snapped your body forward toward your book to avoid any eye contact with hard, throbbing appendages.

You hear a satisfied sigh escape Tommy’s lips and a light thud as the carton made contact with the counter.

Tommy’s interest peaked as he saw you back in the same position he saw you in a minute ago—the heat from his broad chest inches away from your back. You could feel how close Tommy was without having to look back. His head was hovering over your shoulder once again silently reading, but you weren't paying attention to him. You were trying to drown him out.

“Cock?” Tommy asks.

You nearly jump out of your skin again, but you contain yourself, and you slam the hardcover book shut. Tommy backs up and turns your entire body to see him — crossing your arms.

“What are you reading, songbird?”

“Nothing!” You shrugged. “Just the book you gave me.”

“Are you sure it's nothing?” Tommy questions, mimicking your pose.

“Yeah, why would it be something?”

Tommy brings his hand up from him, crossing his arms, and points at you, but you can't tell what he’s pointing to, so you glance down at yourself and then you see it.

Your dick was hard in your underwear. You wanted to die right then and there. You couldn't believe your sister's boyfriend just saw your hard dick. You quickly leave your crossing-arms position and cover your hardened cock.

“Oh, shush! Yours is hard, too,” You spat.

You wished you kept that you had seen his hard dick. Tommy glances down and shakes his head to the side.

“Wouldcha’ look at that, your right. But I didn't get this from reading dirty words in a book.”

“It's called smut,” You clarify. You wanted to die. You didn't have to mention what it is to Tommy.

“Anywho, I got it because your sister —”

“Barfing now.”

“She left me hangin’. Now I gotta deal with this,” Tommy complained.

“It does look painful.” You muttered. “Shit, sorry, my mouth moves faster than my mind thinks.”

“It's all good.” Tommy waved. “What’s smut?”

The heat rose to your cheeks as you heard Tommy’s question. “You don't know what smut is?”

Tommy’s lips made a thin line as he shook his head.

You took a deep breath before answering his questions.

“It's two book characters essentially fucking, and you're just reading.”

“S’ you're a voyeur?” Tommy asks, taking a step closer to you.

You chuckle. “No! You're getting it from a character perspective, so you're living in their head — in a weird way.”

“Does that turn you on?”

“What do you mean?”

Tommy’s closer now; your knees were touching his naval, his cock throbbing under your upper calf — under your knees.

“I mean, that you could easily be the character in any book, getting fucked out of your brains, screamin’ someone’s name — markin’ your territory with those nails, clawin’ their back. Beggin’ for more of their cock deep inside you.” Tommy whispered.

Your throat goes dry as well as your breaths start to get slower. Your sister's boyfriend was inches — centimeters away from you, and it was driving you crazy. You wanted to feel his lips on yours; would they be soft, rough, dry, or damp? You wanted to know.

"I- I, uh, a little. I try to imagine that's actually me," You swallowed.

Tommy grabs your wrists and moves your hands away from covering your cock. You and Tommy both look at your throbbing member. A wet spot of pre cum leaked through the cotton material and watched your cock throb under Tommy's grip.

Tommy lets go of your wrists and slides his hands up your upper thighs and each side of your waistband. "May I?' Tommy asks. You reluctantly nod. Tommy hooks his fingers and slides your underwear slowly down. "Lift your hips for me, songbird." You listen to Tommy's soft command and lift your hips as he slides your underwear to your ankles.

Your cock aching to be touched, begging to cum; you watch it throb in anticipation as you wait for Tommy's next move. "Do you like it when I touch you like this? I can keep goin' if you want me to," Tommy growls. You nod as Tommy's hands slowly drift from your calves to your thighs. His forehead resting on yours, your noses intertwine with each other. "We don't have to play pretend, songbird. Do what you want ever since I permanently inked your pretty skin."

You slowly place your lips on top of Tommy's as you both enter a passionate and hungry kiss. You wrap your arms around Tommy's neck as he spreads your legs with his hands. You could feel his throbbing cock — through his boxers on yours. His veiny hands make their way to your inner thighs while you can feel Tommy's tongue lick your bottom lip for access into your mouth. You part your lips so Tommy can slip his tongue in your mouth, exploring any way he can get closer to you.

Your hand slips down Tommy's shoulder and chest — feeling his hard nipple and slipping your hand down under his underwear. Stroking his cock toward you you suddenly have this rush of adrenaline. You needed Tommy — more than you would like to admit.

You shoved Tommy away from you, his back colliding with the refrigerator, a look of shock spread across his face. You stand up, walking towards him, your cock still hard as a rock. "I'm now getting a vivid idea of me on my knees in front of you, and you fucking my face — I don't remember that in any I've read, but we could always make our own," You smirk.

Tommy returns your smirk with one of his own. "Whatever you want me to do, songbird."

You kneel on your knees as you watch Tommy slide his boxers down. His cock springs out and hits you in the nose; you chuckle in retaliation. You wrap your lips around the tip of Tommy's cock, and you slowly go towards the base of his cock. Tommy throws his head back as you start to suck his cock. He grabbed your face and started thrusting his hips towards you.

You could feel the tip of his cock punch you in the throat wih each thrust, this feeling was intoxicating and you loved every second.

"Damn, songbird. So fuckin' better than your sister," Tommy growled.

Your pupiles look up at Tommy bearing his teeth and his hands grip your hair and his thrusts become faster, more beastlike. Tommy was enjoying himself more than he should admit. His girlfriend's little brother taking his cock so well, Tommy's knowing he's older and his songbird being twenty-two, he loved the age gap between you two.

Hearing each slurp, gag, and noise come from you, Tommy could have his warm cum shoot down your throat right now. Retracting his cock from your mouth, Tommy grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes. Seeing your saliva drool from your mouth to your chin, your tears down your cheeks — it was a sight for Tommy he found amazing.

"Open your mouth," Tommy commanded.

You complied with his commands and you parted your lips away from each other. Tommy had positioned his face away from yours and spit in your mouth. Before you could think, Tommy's lips smashed onto yours — gripping your throat lightly. “Get up, songbird.”

You get up, and Tommy turns you around, — forcing you to lean on the table where the book’s spine is in your field of view. You could feel Tommy’s cock bounce off your ass. Your sister would murder you if you knew how badly you wanted her boyfriend’s cock inside you.

You could feel his cock press up against your ass, but you felt it back up from you. You hear Tommy spit again, and you don't think anything from it until you feel the tip of Tommy’s cock slowly slide in. You suck in a deep breath.

“S’ fuckin’ tight, baby,” Tommy growled.

You could feel Tommy’s cock stretch you out, slowly, painfully enjoying every inch inside you. Tommy’s hips had a mind of their own as his thrust started slow, but his thighs clapped against your ass.

Tommy’s slow thrusts became more and more intense, but you loved every second of it. With each clap, your moans kept escaping your lips, and Tommy’s cock slipped out of you as you moved forward.

“Ah! Easy,” You breathed.

“Shut up, songbird,” Tommy grunts, smacking your ass — you moan in retaliation. Tommy slides his cock in between your ass cheeks — teasing you. “You want this dick... right, songbird?”

“You want to feel your sister’s boyfriend to shove his cock deep inside you?”

“Yes, Fuck yes, Tommy,” You whine.

Tommy adjusts himself — sliding his cock inside you, but he doesn't go slow. His thrusts were fast, and you were trying to contain your moans from everyone hearing them. Tommy had gripped his hands on your waist tightly, and he was enjoying the sounds escaping your lips. You were clenching your teeth together tightly to keep your moans from escaping your lips, but your whimpers were another thing you tried to contain — but they slipped through your teeth like smoke.

“Baby, those sounds, make my cock twitch like crazy,” Tommy grunted.

“Fuck— shit, Tommy. You’re gonna break me,” You whined.

“That’s the plan, songbird. I want your family to hear how well I treat you. My cock —thrust— buried deep —thrust— inside your tight ass.” Tommy leans closer to you, his lips inches away from your ear.

“I would love to see the look on your sister's face when she sees me fuckin’ your brains out,” Tommy grunted.

The tone of his voice made your spine have knife-like chills crawling up and down all over your back.

With a firm hand-made contact with your bare ass, you moan as a reflex. Another smack came across your ass, another, and another, and another. You became a moaning bullhorn — bearing your teeth, you lay your forehead on your forearm as you feel each thrust rock the kitchen table.

Tommy wrapped his hand in the front of your throat and pulled you to the side of his head.

“Let’s have some real fun, songbird,” Tommy growled. “Get on the fuckin’ floor.”

Tommy slipped his cock out of you, and you went on your knees and then on your back, laid on the floor. The cold sensation of the floor made contact with your cotton-covered back. Tommy crawls on top of you, lifts your legs, and gazes down at your hole. “Look at that, baby. I bet you're still so fuckin’ tight.”

Tommy’s adjust’s his cock — holding your leg and sliding his cock inside you, you fight the urge to scream right there. “Damn, songbird. No music to my ears?”

“That’s soon, Tommy,” You whined.

Tommy’s lips coincide with yours to make a passionate kiss. Tommy’s thrust becomes so addicting and unique that you don't want him to stop — even if anyone saw the two of you making sweet heaven.

“I remember you,” Tommy confesses.

“What?”

“You asked me If we’ve met before — I lied. I knew you a long time ago,” Tommy groaned, placing his hands on both sides of your head

“Really?” You ask.

“Remember Clark?”

Even with Tommy’s dick pumping fast and hard inside, you forced yourself to think about your old friend who moved away when you were in first grade and he was in fifth grade. You two were close and did everything together after school was over. The both of you could take over the world someday, but like all great things, they end because Clark moved away with out telling you.

He stopped coming to the park after school, no phone calls or anything, just pure silence.

“Are you Clark?” You question.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded.

“You lied about your name? Didn't you? Why?”

“Because my name sounded like — damn baby, your tight— like a baby. I hated my name. I didn't know any better,” Tommy states.

“But, I wouldn't have — Oh god, yes, Tommy — made fun of you,”

“I know that, oh songbird. I wanted to tell you right before I left, but it was too late; you have no idea how much I missed you.”

“When I saw you enter my tattoo shop, I wanted to hug you. When I saw you in this house, Everything connected.”

You snap your eyes shut and bear your teeth.

“I have my songbird in my arms again,” Tommy breathed.

You were on the brink of crying; all these emotions of sadness you were feeling were intensified by Tommy’s cock pumping inside you.

“Songbird?”

“Yeah,” You squeaked.

“I love you so much. I needed to say that — I’ve wanted to say that ever since your birthday,” Tommy breathed. Tears started to roll down the side of your face as a smile broke out on your face. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset up—”

“No, it's fine, I’m happy. Too happy, I start crying,” You smile.

“Really?” Tommy breathed.

“Do you love me too?”

“How about this? You keep fucking my brains out. I’ll let you know how I feel. I can feel your cock twitch inside me. I can feel you about to cum.”

“Baby, I’m so fuckin’ close. I’m gonna get you pregnant.”

Tommy’s thrusts become more animalistic, hot, and intense. It felt like a scene from one of your many books. You loved this, your old childhood friend making you feel this way and enjoying the moment with him. Another memory you both will share.

You wrap your hands around Tommy’s broad back, scratching your nails on his back, you feel the warmth of Tommy's body as you are about to cum. “Damn, Tommy. I’m about to cum.”

“Cum f’me baby,” it sounded like a command more than a statement. Your cock throbs, and you exclaim a moan as stings of cum hit your shirt.

“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum in my childhood best friend!” Tommy exclaimed, bearing his teeth. As Tommy’s hips keep going back and forth into you, looking into your eyes, his cum shoots inside you; Tommy steadies himself inches away from your face. You could feel Tommy slip his cock out of you, your hole dripping with his cum.

“How was the ending of this chapter?” Tommy pants.

“Pretty good,” You smiled. Tommy smiles back at you and kisses your lips softly and gently; as he backs up, you look into his eyes. “I love you too.” Tommy’s smile brightened up the whole room. You loved your childhood best friend, and you couldn't ask for anyone better.

“Don’t expect me to call you Clark now,” You insisted.

“I don't; I expect you to call me daddy, now.”

You pushed his face away from yours as your cock twitched, and he landed next to you — leaning on his arm. You're an ass,” You laughed. Tommy’s smile made butterflies flutter in your stomach as he trailed his finger near your nipple.

“Would you be okay with goin’ somewhere with me? Where we could finish our book series.”

You snicker. “Where? ‘Cause I don't want anyone to hear me moan my sister’s boyfriend's name.” Tommy sits up and stands up, outstretching his arm. You take his gesture and lift yourself from the now-warm floor.

“Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay,” You chuckle. “Are we taking sepreate showers?”

Tommy scoffs. “Oh hell, no. But I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

You scoff. “Yeah, I find that hard to believe.”

[astrogre]

Venus Conjunct Mars in each Sign

I noticed that Cancer Venus conjunct Mars are LOVED and protected by so many, like the people in their life see them as someone who must be protected at all costs because they’re so “precious”. The people around them may behave as if they’re bodyguards to this native, if any harm were to occur around them they’d rush to protect them like a little sister/brother. Usually these people have a good reputation of being sweet in their personal circles and individually are deemed acceptable by society. Honestly this placement gives princess treatment from the people in your life, especially those under the themes of the house it’s in.

E.g Zendaya, Keanu Reeves

I think in general Venus conj Mars can bring an influx of opposing blessings of the themes of the sign its in, it can show where you have a high concentration of passionate appreciate/admiration. Like I said with cancer, it makes native highly protected (Marian trait of cancer), and cared for (Venusian trait of cancer). This was originally supposed to be an Astro observation but I wanted to talk about this more.

Aries Mars conjunct Venus makes those around them feel inspired and intimidated of the native, also noticed that they’re dominators of their fields and that’s usually where that sense of intimidation/fear others have for them come from. Despite this those around them know that they can’t outdo the native. You guys are like a monopoly company, you already have all the shares. People may get up in the morning in your name so that they can one day be on the same battlefield as you. It’s not that people want to outdo you but it’s more is that people know you’re so accomplished that they want to compete at the same level.

E.g Christiano Ronaldo, Queen Victoria (yes the one responsible for British empires colonialism), Napoleon III, Lupita Nyong’o.

Taurus Venus conj Mars makes those around the native feel good about themselves like the Taurus native is a trophy wife in a way, they can be seen as the ideal person to be with like the diamond of the season in Bridgerton terms. To be around them not only feels good but is also a status symbol, a bragging right. You feel spoiled to be around them. They treat those around them good, they’re the kind to pay for the entire tables food and say “it’s on me tonight, it is my pleasure”. These people are also very much well looked after by those around them because of this placement, others feel like they just deserve it

E.g Kanye West, Adolf Hitler, Charlie Chaplin, Jessica Alba

Gemini Venus conj Mars causes those around the native to feel giddy, excited, like they have a high school crush on the native and are wiling to escape anywhere with them on command, people feel like they are being energised around you but also a sense of conflict around you too, it’s as if the people around the native views the native as overwhelming at times. People may view you as fun and always full of good ideas but also after a while it just gets too much for them since there is a lot of energy here. You’re able to attract anyone with this placement but just don’t be surprised for people to turn their backs on you after that high is over for them. Honestly I have seen this placement manifest as an influx of stardom and connections all for those same connections to just say “meh” when asked about their opinion of the native overtime. Despite all this they ALWAYS remain popular.

Eg. Wendy Williams, Charli D’Amelio, Naomi Campbell, Mike Tyson, Dwayne Johnson, Boris Johnson

Leo Venus conj Mars is celebrated and uplifted, people around the native encourage and celebrate them, they’re glorified for the bare minimum, everything they do just seems like it is crafted to perfection by the gods and they’re treated like celebrities, royalty, like they’re better than everyone else,like the teachers favourite class pet, they can also make those around them feel like they want to be the top dog and take their position, that’s why because of this they can have many impersonators since people want to take their fame and glory, they want to be praised and put on a pedestal like these natives. You guys are seen as the prodigies, main characters or whatever you want to call it. People around you just think you have it good and want a slice.

E.g Amy Winehouse, Playboi Carti, Riley Reid, Monica Bellucci, Daniel Radcliffe, Donald Glover, Emily Ratajkowski

Virgo Venus conj Mars are likely to receive support too but a different kind, more like mentors, teachers. I think these people get tough love, if they put in the bare minimum they won’t get away without being hounded for it. People around these natives always want to help them and give constructive criticism so they can become better, people see them to be competent, they may also be perceived as a modest, the people around them may treat them with respect with politeness, honestly the way a butler would behave to its child client is how these natives are treated. Alfred Batmans Butler comes to mind when I think of how they’re treated and how they’re seen by others.

E.g. Austin Butler, Blake Lively, Bruno Mars, Amber Rose, Joe Jonas, Wiz Khalifa

Libra Venus conj Mars are romanticised but not in a dreamy way but in a “trendy” manner, think of Libra being a ruler over Venus and the detriment to Mars already makes the native treated by others in a way that perhaps they’re not taken seriously, they may be undermined just down to their looks or physical appeal but they’re given compliments, treated like a delicacy like chocolate. You’re the treat. They have an undeniable appeal to them but it’s so soft no matter how big, how tall, how unattractive, how masculine they are, they always have this softness to them that makes them liked by their peers. People might even treat these natives like they’re dating them or something. They are highly sought after in terms of relationships due to their romantic aura. For some reason those around the native may feel that their energy screams girlfriend/boyfriend material.

E.g Freddie Mercury, Kobe Bryant, Adam Driver, Future

Scorpio Venus conj Mars have this intense intimidating but sultry air to them. They’re treated like the way a dog treats its owner with treats. People may submit to them and do what they want in order to get something out of them and also because they know if they don’t there may be consequences. They can make people feel uncomfortable because of their intensity, almost as if they’re being seen through. People can also feel uncomfortable with the energy these natives surround themselves with .Natives can have strange company around them or they themselves ARE the strange company, usually their love interests are villains or are seen as victims of the natives. Venus is in detriment here so these people aren’t treated very soft, they don’t need to say anything in a room but it just feels intense because of them. There may be more darker levels of adoration for these people like lust and envy, even a lack of compassion. They’ve probably been stalked or harassed once in their life.

E.g. Leonardo Di Caprio, Finn Wolfhard, Joe Biden, Greta Thunberg, Sydney sweeny, Bruce Lee, Joaquin Phoenix, Jimin

Sagi Venus conj Mars are treated like a compass on the ocean, you guys are the good luck, people think you have such interesting philosophy and may also treat you like you are the wise one. Like the way a child asks a question to a magician expecting them to pull an answer out of their ass, you guys have an expectancy to bewilder others. Treated with openness, like anything you do is a whatever thing, people don’t expect conformity from you. You guys are admired for the straightforwardness you have in your life. People allow you to be you. These natives are the risk takers they’ll just be like “fuck it!@“ and do something like jump in a pool. People treat you with honesty, they just tell you what they think of you and your behaviour sometimes giving unwarranted advice to you. In general others may think you’re a little silly as well as if you don’t take life seriously for what it is.

Eg Bella Thorne, Kendall Jenner, Hayao Miyazaki

Capricorn Venus conj Mars are treated like the owners of the place. Think of the eldest sibling, the first grandchild, the first one who graduated in the entire lineage. They are treated like THE standard, the blueprint, used as an example of what “to be”, the one in charge, the one you have to convince. People look up to them not in admiration or desire, but in respect and authority. Others treat this native with practicality and formal courtesy, they won’t use slang around this person but may even address them with honorifics that explain their status. They’re most likely to have the blue tick on social media, they are the establishment. Those around them may also be conservative because of their nature. People don’t want to say anything stupid around you because they know it can affect their status and your response would make them feel foolish too. The people around you may treat you like they’re a contestant on dragons den and you are the investor judge. People might even stammer because of you, they really don’t want to embarrass themselves

E.g. Walt Disney, Brad Pitt, Jim Carrey, The weeknd, bjork, Neymar, Mads Mikkelsen, Prince Andrew, Avan Jogia

Aquarius Venus conj Mars people around them act like fans, followers. People always want to know your next ideas they could read, listen or watch whatever it is you’re doing because it’s so unique to them. Others are fascinated by your ideas and intellect. Honestly I’d even say that’s how you can get someone in bed that’s your magic charm. People also just feel like they have been friends with you for a while even if they just met because your humanitarian spirit comes through. MANY have a friend crush on you (really want to be your friend). People with this placement also are very independent thinkers, they don’t base their ideas on standard but rather on their own unique perspective. You can make others see things they hadn’t noticed there before. You bring what is under the ground to the table. Imagine a prehistoric man bringing home the tribe cow milk after playing with its udders and showing how them how it can be a source of calcium. You guys have strange solutions and you do it for the sake of others.

E.g Hozier, Harry Styles, Zoella- Zoe Sugg

Pisces Venus conj Mars you guys are the dreamy ones people idealise you so much like oh “______?? They could never do no wrong” people are very sensitive and compassionate towards you and those around you love your creativity, how you’re able to just bring something poetic and meaningful to this world. You’re the person a stranger would start crying and pouring out to on a bench next to a park at 7am due to the nurturing presence you have. Those around you may always feel safe around you and they can trust you, natives with this placement gain mass trust by those who are vulnerable and they too can be vulnerable themselves. There is strength in their weakness, their ability to appear so tender can allow them to be non-judgmental and have power over others because they are not being opened up to. They show people the strength in playing small. You make people wooed by your kindness and care for others, no matter how disingenuous it may be.

E.g. Heath Ledger, Vincent Van Gogh, Jeffrey Epstein 💀, J.Cole, Machine Gun Kelly, Lewis Hamilton, Mac DeMarco

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Time for the March Summary!

First of, the egg that haunts my dreams,

Richarlyson

For the 3rd month in a row, with 13/62 polls won last month, Richas has been voted most likely to:

Eat a random nut/berry/bug he found outside

Aim for the head during dodgeball

Intentionally cough/sneeze on someone while sick

Pick up something gross and chase his siblings around with it

Play computer games in class instead of doing his school work

Play football indoors and accidentally break a family relic

Play Julius Ceasar in a recreation of the Ides of March

Love a cursed food combination

Hunt down islanders that aren't wearing green on St. Patrick's Day

Pretend to be possessed to scare a sibling/parent

Refuse to wear shoes, even in the woods

Be the Rico (Penguins of Madagascar) of the island

Be covered in band-aids all the time

I do not know how he managed to win this many without me noticing. I think he's stealing trophies from me when I'm not looking.

Dapper

Wait, what? Even I wasn't expecting our favorite literal-demon child to win 2nd! With 11/62 polls won, Dapper has been voted most likely to:

Read Wikipedia articles for fun

Berate adults for coughing into their hand

Be a "Home Alone" protagonist

Love "Doctor Who"

Read Homestuck

Make a recreation of the Ides of March

Actually catch a leprechaun on Saint Patrick's Day

NOT have to sing the alphabet song to remember what order the letters are in

Love the Sherlock Holmes books

Know everything about demon folklore and scare everyone with their knowledge of it

Be determined to find every single easter egg at the island-wide easter egg hunt

She's a nerd, what else is there to say?

Chayanne & Pepito

Tied for 3rd, with 6/62 polls won each! Chayanne has been voted most likely to:

Love Hockey

Hyperfixate on the Percy Jackson series

Be a try-hard in P.E. class

Start a game of King Of The Hill everytime the school replaces the woodchips at recess

Fight with a teacher over a test grade

Sleep through fasting all day

Only look for the difficult to find eggs so their younger siblings can have fun at the Easter egg hunt

And Pepito has been voted most likely to:

Lose every round of Hide N' Seek because Pepito can't stop giggling

Believe in the Tooth Fairy

Chase Pepito's own tail

Still not know how to swim

Actually break a leg during a school play on accident

Eat paper because Pepito thinks it tastes good

One of the oldest eggs tying with one of the youngest. It's perfect.

Sunny

With 5/62 polls won, I'm sure Sunny is a little miffed that she's ended up in 4th. But it's okay, you all are sure to put her in 1st place one of these months. Sunny has been voted most likely to:

Secretly paint their closet an obnoxious color

Have a fashion show using her parents' clothes

Sleep with all of their stuffed animals so they don't get lonely

Treat the masjid shoe racks as their own personal shoe store

Have an imaginary friend

Tallulah, Ramón, & Pomme

Tying for 5th, with 4/62 polls won each, I'm very happy to see Pomme winning her first ever polls! And a total of 4 of them, no less! Tallulah has been voted most likely to:

Try and dye her own hair (making a huge mess)

Fit the main character role in "Coraline"

Perform Tarot card readings

Catch bees to pet them

Ramón has been voted most likely to:

Be obsessed with cowboys and the Wild West

Race to recalibrate the SmartBoard at school

Set up an elaborate rube goldberg machine to suprise a parent for their birthday

Have a space hyperfixation and want to be an astronaut

And Pomme has been voted most likely to:

Be a monster at PaintBall

Hyperfixate on Splatoon

Be very meticulous while coloring in a coloring book

Write a book

I think there's a pattern with that last one.

Leonarda

With 3/62 polls won, Leonarda has been voted most likely to:

Be obsessed with Power Rangers

Be into ice skating

Read every single Warrior cats books

I don't have anything funny to say here, It's hard to pay attention while listening to Ze Frank talk about coral kkkkkkkk

Empanada

With 2/62 polls won, Empanada has been voted most likely to:

Spend recess burying herself in woodchips and sleeping

Have Batik as a hobby

Oh hey, it's the first time Empanada's gone a full month without winning a poll about sweets!

Chunsik

Finally, our youngest has won a poll! With 1/62 polls won, Chunsik has been voted most likely to:

Be exempt from a Federation experiment because he politely declines it

What a polite kid!

...

...

That's it, right? That's all the eggs. All 11 eggs, all 62 polls for the month of March

...

Why does my clipboard say I'm missing two polls.....

...

Oh! Yes!

Juanaflippa & Bobby

In an absolutely unprecedented event, Juanaflippa AND Bobby have become our first ever dead eggs to win a canonical poll, with 1/62 win each! Juanaflippa has been voted most likely to:

Have a million allergies during the spring

And Bobby has been voted most likely to:

Get BANNED from playing Bulldog

It's still insane to me that you all managed to get these two a win. Bobby was going up against RICHARLYSON for void's sake. You all were fighting against the current on that one.

See you all soon!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Aladdin AU)

*Alastor the chief advisor of Queen Sera waited for a pimp named Valentino to meet him, standing by Alastor was his assistant Vox, a man who had the ability to hypnotize people which Alastor used to hypnotize the Queen, thankfully Valentino arrived*

Alastor: You are late.

Valentino: A thousand apologies Lord Alastor.

*Valentino bowed and Vox glared at the slimy pimp in disgust*

Valentino: Is this the cave?

*the men men stood in front of a cave that was shaped like a tiger’s head, it made Alastor think of Prince Adam’s beloved pet tiger Lute who would bite anyone who made the young man uncomfortable*

Vox: This is the Cave of Wonders.

Cave of Wonders: Who disturbs my slumber.

Valentino: It is, Valentino.

Cave of Wonders: Only one may enter here, the Diamond in the Rough.

Alastor: What are you waiting for? Go on.

*Valentino slowly approached the cave and when he stepped in the mouth closed crushing Valentino leaving blood and guts everywhere*

Vox: Great, another failure.

Cave of Wonders: Seek me out the Diamond in the Rough.

*the royal guards chased a short blonde young man clutching a loaf of bread with a slightly younger woman running alongside him, they were Lucifer and Charlie, a brother and sister who had to steal to survive*

Lucifer: All this for a loaf of bread.

Captain of the Guards: I will have your hands for a trophy.

*Lucifer ran until he found Rosie, a woman who was friends with their mother, who pulled them into her home until the guards went away, when they Lucifer and Charlie left they sat down while Lucifer tore the bread in half so he could share it with Charlie, but they saw a pair of homeless children who needed food more than either of them did*

Lucifer: You can have this.

*Lucifer handed his half of the bread to the older child*

Charlie: You can have mine too.

*Charlie handed her half of the bread to the younger child, it was another night without food, but the children being fed was more important, Lucifer saw a crowd gathering, it was a princess named Lilith riding into the city seeking the hand of Sera’s beloved son and Prince Adam in marriage*

Guy #1: Another Princess for Prince Adam to reject.

Guy #2: Why doesn't he just pick someone?

Lucifer sighed, Adam was the Prince Heaven, Queen Sera's only child after her husband the King passed away when Adam was still in diapers.

The children from before ran out into the street.

Lilith: Ugh! You little brats!

She went to whip them and Lucifer ran out and took the whip to his arm.

Lucifer: If I were as rich as you, I would be able to afford some manners.

Lilith: Out of my way!

She kicked him into the mud.

Lucifer: Look Charlie! It's not every day you see a horse with two asses!

Everyone laughed.

Lilith glared: You're nothing but a filthy street rat. You'll die a street rat and only your flees will mourn you!

The palace gates closed as Lucifer charged them.

Lucifer: I don't have flees..... Bitch. I hope Prince Adam rejects you.

-

A few hours later and Princess Lilith was storming out of the room.

Lilith: GOOD LUCK MARRYING HIM OFF!!

Sera: Leaving so ...... Soon?

Lilith had some of her dress missing as she stormed out.

Sera: Adam.....

Adam was sitting by the pond with his pet tiger Lute.

Sera: Adam! Adam! Oh confound it Lute!

Adam: Oh Lute was only playing with that spoiled princess Lilith. Weren't you girl? Hehehe.

Sera did not look impressed.

Sera: Adam my dear, you know the law, you have to get married-

Adam: To someone of royal statues I know. But mom if I do get married one day I want it to be for love.

[qlala]

Whump prompt requests?? :o Pretty please can I request Barry gets kidnapped and Len finds him tied up? (Do want: muzzle/gag, handcuffs. Don't want: pet p!ay, established relationship)

i think this is the only prompt i've ever gotten with a detailed list of wants and don't wants, and you know what? i love clear instructions

the devil you know (coldflash, 5.6k, rated M)*

(*note: this fic makes implied reference to threats of SA/noncon, but none occur)

When Iris West tracked Len down three days into the Flash’s latest disappearance, Len sent her on her way with a shrug. He didn’t know or particularly care where Barry was, and he privately doubted Iris’s insistence that Barry wouldn’t have gone off anywhere without telling his team first. 

Still, he made an idle mental note to follow up if another week passed without any sign of him. Making that promise out loud might’ve gone a long way in wiping away some of the bitter disappointment out of Iris’s eyes as she left, but Len had a reputation to protect. 

Besides, Barry had a bad habit of popping up in Len’s life at the most inconvenient time possible. Ten days without the Flash interfering in any heists or Len’s attempts to follow the hockey playoffs undisturbed? He wasn’t that lucky. 

Four days later, a meta-snatcher tossed someone down onto the ground in front of Len's chair in handcuffs, a black hood, and very little else, and Len's first thought was that being right all the time was exhausting.

Narrow hips and shoulders, a lean and powerful body (although, underfed as he looked at the moment, that balance tipped closer to just lean), long legs folding under him as he settled uncomfortably—if prettily—onto his knees before sitting back on his heels. 

The concrete floor couldn’t have been comfortable. Len had put together the de facto throne room they were in precisely for meetings like this. It sat at the heart of a creaking warehouse abandoned at the edge of the docks, largely off the CCPD’s radar given the overwhelming impression that it was going to slide into the river with the slightest gust of wind. (Len encouraged that impression at every opportunity; he liked to post Mardon up on the roof to howl a few well-timed gusts of wind through the corroded metal walls during particularly lucrative negotiations. It made people antsy, and antsy people made worse deals.) 

He’d emptied the place of everyone except for himself and Mick for the evening’s entertainment, though. Call it a hunch; meta-snatching had largely dried up in the past couple of years. Most of the meta-humans with both valuable powers and common sense had already aligned themselves with one big player in Central City or the other—never mind that the distinction felt increasingly like choosing sides for a scrimmage. What mattered was that neither the Rogues nor Team Flash took kindly to their allies getting grabbed off the street, and meta-snatchers had learned quickly and painfully that they were better off finding safer professions. 

Of course, it helped that most meta-humans had also developed a healthy fear of the few meta-snatchers still bold enough or desperate enough to stay in the game. Len had taken that night’s meeting for the same reason that trophy hunters set traps on the edge of their own camps; the bolder the animal, the bigger the teeth. 

When the meta-snatcher pulled the black hood off with a flourish, Barry didn’t even have the good grace to look chagrined. 

“My, my,” Len drawled, settling back into his chair with a slow smirk. “What big teeth you have.”

It was too perfect to resist; he’d had the line ready even before he’d seen the muzzle, and he hadn’t landed on the top of Central’s food chain by ignoring chances landing in his lap like that. 

It was stark black leather, something Len would’ve expected to find in a very particular kind of club and not a meta-snatchers toolkit. He wondered idly if they’d had to improvise; a week of Barry Allen bitching his ear off, he sure as hell would’ve reached for the nearest gag, too. 

And it did seem to be functioning as a gag. It was well made from a single piece of leather, the breathing vents cut into the sides clearly designed not to allow enough give for the wearer to actually open their jaw. It fit snugly over Barry’s mouth and nose, looped securely over his ears, and came together in a heavy buckle on the back of his head. With the way it just skimmed the line of Barry’s high cheekbones, it was nearly a perfect inverse of the Flash’s usual mask.  

It was a better look than the cowl. Shame Barry would probably drop him in Iron Heights for suggesting that he take inspiration from the meta-snatcher’s fashion choice. 

Based on the flatly unimpressed look Barry was leveling him over the mask, Len was going to have to put that one on the back burner for a while. 

A quiet snort from Len’s right pulled his attention momentarily to Mick. Barry was lucky Mick hadn’t boomed a laugh the second the hood had come off; the plausible deniability that he and Len didn’t know who the Flash was under the mask was wearing thin enough as it was. 

Mick leaned against the side of Len’s chair and rumbled, too quiet to carry, “And it ain’t even your birthday.” 

The meta-snatcher cleared his throat self-importantly and Len flicked him a glare as he pulled his smirk under control. He was some distant relative of the Santinis, which made it all the more idiotic that he’d been poaching metas on turf that Len had chased the rest of his family off of years ago. Len had disregarded his first name as soon as he’d heard it; he didn’t plan on needing it. 

“He bite?” Len asked, pushing himself lazily out of the chair. 

Santini tucked the hood into his back pocket, clearly sensing a sale, and backed up a few steps in the universal invitation to inspect the wares. 

“Nah,” he said, conversational now that Len was showing interest. "I muzzle anything with a meta gene. That’s from experience. I caught one once, she could literally talk someone's ear off. And I mean literally. It would shrivel up and just..." He mimed a splat. 

Barry’s dark shock of hair was sticking up wildly around the straps of the muzzle, and Len could see a purple bruise blooming just over the edge of the leather at one temple. However they’d gotten the thing on him, he’d put up a fight. 

A hell of a fight, Len corrected himself, as he got close enough to get a proper look at Barry in the dim light. There were more bruises mottling his skin further down, and they weren’t showing any signs of healing. Len couldn’t see what kind of cuffs were holding Barry’s arms behind his back, but he would’ve put money on power dampeners.

"Meta gene, hm?” Len reached out and trailed his fingers through the air a scant inch above Barry’s mussed hair, just to feel the novel lack of static humming around him. "What can it do?"

The glare Barry shot him at the word "it" looked awfully annoyed for someone who was supposed to be in fear for his life, and Len raised an imperious eyebrow back. 

“Tests can’t really tell you that,” Santini said, patronizing enough that Len cut him a warning look. He put his hands up, an easy surrender. “...as you know,” he tacked on, mollifying. “I’ll tell you, though. He burnt through the first two pairs of cuffs we put on him. Whatever it is, he’s packing heat.” 

Len snorted. There were understatements, and there were understatements. The man had hooked a great white shark and thought he was selling an unusually bitey tuna. 

It gave Len exactly the information he’d needed to know, though. He hadn’t really thought Barry’s identity had been compromised, not with the way Santini had shown up alone, unarmed, and without several other bidders in tow.

He expected some kind of cheek from Barry, a tilted head that said “I told you so,” muzzle or not. Maybe even Barry pushing to his feet once Len got close enough, overly confident that Len would uncuff him and the game would be up. 

But Barry only tipped his head back to hold Len’s gaze as he sauntered toward him, and he didn’t stir from where he was kneeling. 

Len ignored the clear attempt at eye contact and began pacing a wide circle around him, appraising. It left Barry with the option to either twist to follow him or give up, and Len had to tamp down a smirk at the churlish way Barry snorted under the muzzle as he swung his head around to face forward again.

Up close, though, Len’s amusement began to evaporate. Barry didn’t look like he could stand. 

Power dampener cuffs were clamped tight around his narrow wrists, as expected. Homemade, but not shoddily so—Santini was an ambitious amateur. Bruises spanned the range from purple-black to fading yellow-green, the Flash’s missing week accounted for. 

Even with their more recent, less murder-y history, he expected Barry to have enough of a survival instinct to tense when Len passed behind him, some kind of instinctual response to having his back to someone who had once made it his life’s mission to kill him. 

Instead, as soon as Len’s path put him between Barry and Santini, Barry relaxed.  

Len’s feet stilled without permission from his brain. He waited for the trick, but none came. The longer he watched, the slower Barry’s too-sharp shoulder blades rose and fell, breath evening out, chin sinking by degrees towards his chest, like he’d finally allowed a week’s worth of exhaustion to catch up to him at once. 

Like he finally thought he was safe. 

Something dangerously close to alarm spiked through Len’s chest at the thought, and it took everything in him to repress the instinct to rear back a step. 

He shoved the panic down instead, held it under until it drowned, and got ahold of himself. The annoyance that bloomed in the aftermath, on the other hand, was welcome. 

Barry and his stupid, endless, goddamn faith that Len was a good man. He’d always trusted him too much. But up until now, Len had had the plausible deniability that it was only because Barry was counting on his powers in the event that Len did betray him.

Now, he was faced with the unfortunate reality that things were far worse than he’d let himself believe. It was his fault, really. Barry trusted too easily; it was an immutable part of who he was. Len had watched people wriggle close enough to Barry to sink their knives in his back too many times to count. None of it made a difference, not in the long term. 

But usually, Barry seemed to limit himself to second chances, even if he did give them out too freely. There were plenty of people in Iron Heights—hell, in the ground—who had used that second chance to take another stab at him, only to find that Barry’s patience had hard limits. 

Len, on the other hand, had let himself become something unacceptable. An exception. From the moment he’d failed to shoot Barry with his father’s thumb on the trigger that could’ve killed Lisa, he’d become a permanent lesser of two evils. Len didn’t even know what chance he was on, but he had passed second long ago.

Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, people said. That was Len: Barry’s devil of choice, every time. Len had enjoyed it for a while, no sense in lying to himself about that. He liked the snarls of annoyance when he turned the cold gun on Barry’s other problems, let it stroke his ego that Barry had chosen him over them. 

But he’d let it go too far. Because Barry, it seemed, had forgotten a crucial part of what that saying meant. He’d forgotten Len didn’t play on the side of the angels. 

Lucky for him, Len was going to enjoy reminding him. 

Len forced himself to move again. His gaze lingered on the bruises as he finished circling Barry, despite his best efforts. The worst of it was centered on Barry’s left shoulder, where a hazy ring of deep purple suggested a dislocated—and subsequently relocated—shoulder. He also had a nasty bruise ricocheting over several ribs, and Len watched him breathe for a careful moment. A slow, measured inhale, then a slight hitch and quick, almost involuntary exhale; at least one of them was broken. 

Len’s carefully curated annoyance was already simmering rapidly and unacceptably toward anger when he caught sight of the marks wrapped around Barry’s upper arm. He’d missed them at first glance, easily lost next to the darker mottling from the dislocated shoulder. But the shape of it was unmistakable: four parallel lines around the strong curve of his bicep—a handprint. 

Someone else’s handprint. 

Len caught the thought by the throat before it made him round on Santini. He shoved the thought, snapping and hissing, back into the possessive corner of his mind it had escaped from, and barred the door after it. 

Barry’s surrender had knocked something off-kilter in Len’s brain, sent boxes he’d kept carefully bolted shut spilling open with the impact. Barry may have been his problem, but that was the only “his” that he was. 

And Barry was only his problem because he’d got himself caught by a two-bit amateur with some jerry-rigged tech. A few bruises were the least he deserved; the only reason he was alive was because that two-bit amateur had dumped him at Len’s feet and not someone else’s.

Still, a nasty thought was churning in the back of Len’s mind, and he had to put both hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for the cold gun. He wanted an honest answer out of Santini, not whatever he thought Len wanted to hear. The truth mattered; he needed to know how many pieces the man would be leaving the warehouse in.

“Looks a little worse for wear,” Len drawled, forcing his tone light and sardonic. “Got a discount for damaged goods?”

“Aw, fuck off,” Santini lobbed back, oblivious and good natured. “So he got a little banged up in transit. I told you, he didn’t like the cuffs. He dislocated his own shoulder trying to get out of ‘em. Not my fault. Hell, I put it back in for you.” 

“Not what I was talking about.” Len slid a pointed glance down Barry’s body—miles of freckled skin, very little else—then looked back at Santini. He didn’t lift an eyebrow; he didn’t have to. 

“Oh, the underwear?” Santini scoffed. “I deal in weapons, Cold, not skin. Too messy. Kid’s got every stitch of clothing and virtue he had when I found him, swear on my mother. Besides, he’s not my type.”

The generous two-handed gesture Santini made in front of his own chest didn’t impress Len, but it was crude enough that he took him at his word. He’d suspected as much, regarding the clothes. Barry may have been stupid enough to get himself caught by a meta-snatcher, but he wasn’t stupid enough to get caught and stay in the Flash suit. Whatever trap he’d stumbled into, he’d must’ve had time to throw the suit into some dark corner. No wonder his team hadn’t been able to track him down. 

That unpleasant matter behind them, Len rolled his shoulders back, settling in for another slow circle around Barry. The business portion of the evening was wrapping up, at least as far as he was concerned. He had the information he needed from Santini, and all that was left was to remind Barry that if the meta-snatcher was the frying pan, he was the fire.

If his first perusal had been business, the second was… well. Call it an advance on the clean-up fee he was going to charge Barry for handling Mr. Virtue over there. 

Barry lifted his head as Len started to circle again, tilted it slightly in unspoken question. The muzzle was inspired, Len would give Santini that. Barry had sure as hell never held his tongue for so long in Len’s presence of his own volition. 

Len could hear the list of complaints he’d be in for once he took it off: thanks for leaving the cuffs on for so long, those were comfortable—you know, they sell this new technology nowadays, it’s called an area rug—probably with a dig about his age, while he was at it. 

Len banished the thoughts and the grin that was threatening. Christ, maybe Barry was right. He was getting soft if he was laughing at just the idea of Barry crabbing at him. 

He reached for his earlier determination, instead. He tilted his head with a collector’s eye as he tightened the circle, close enough to touch. 

Barry really did have freckles everywhere, more than Leonard had imagined in the occasional privacy of his own thoughts. Constellations of them between the colorful galaxies of bruises painted over his leanly-muscled shoulders, his chest, stomach, carelessly parted thighs. There was even a pair of them right on the dimples of his lower back, where Len’s thumbs would’ve fit like the space had been made for them. 

It was a tempting thought. Pressing his own claim into Barry’s body, maybe covering up that hand-shaped bruise with one of his own. He was the one playing big bad wolf now, after all. And with both of them dressed for the part: Len, with the fur collar of the parka brushing his jaw, and Barry in those little red shorts. They left absolutely nothing to Len’s imagination, a delicious payoff to years of idle wonderings about what the Flash wore under that suit.

Something of the thought must’ve shown on Len’s face, because Barry looked decidedly less patient when Len caught his eye again. He glanced pointedly back behind himself, then back up again, as if Len weren’t perfectly aware that he wanted the power dampener off.  

Barry wasn’t the only impatient one. Santini clapped once, businesslike, and began walking closer. “You just window shopping today, or—?”

Len cut him off with a look, winning him back silence and space as Santini course-corrected with a gracious “after you” gesture and ceded ground again. 

A week in a cage clearly hadn’t been enough to break Barry’s pride, let alone his spirit. The muzzle was probably the only thing that had kept the meta-snatchers from realizing who he was. Barry would’ve snarked their ears off no matter what they did to him; he’d taken too many hits to be afraid of a little pain. And even with how stupid Santini was, the bared teeth and complete contempt would’ve added up to Central’s apex predator eventually.

The thought was a butane lighter to the sparks of arousal in Len’s veins. It was unfortunate that he wouldn’t be able to take the muzzle off while Santini was still breathing down their necks. He would’ve liked to see the fear in his eyes when he realized the enormity of the mistake he’d made. Delivering the Flash bound and gagged to the one man in the city who had something of a gentleman’s agreement with him…

Len hummed, a little wistful, as he reminded himself that said gentleman’s agreement precluded him from hauling Barry up to sit in his chair and slitting Santini’s throat at his feet. 

But he let the idea of it linger, knew that it would darken his eyes as he skimmed another lingering look down Barry’s body. 

And there, finally—a hint of wariness in Barry’s eyes when Len bothered dragging his gaze up from the dark hair that trailed temptingly down Barry’s lower stomach and disappeared under his waistband. Beginning to remember, maybe, that Len didn’t work for free. 

Len pushed his advantage while he had Barry off-balance. He drew his hands from his pockets, slowly, casually, and held them up at Barry’s eye level. He was wearing gloves, as he always did when conducting business. No point in keeping the cold gun strapped to his thigh if he wasn’t going to be ready to use it. The gloves were a helpful and very visible reminder of that.  

When he was sure he still had Barry’s attention—and he did, something unreadable passing across Barry’s eyes as they darted between Len’s hands—Len turned one hand toward himself, brought the other to its fingertips, and then slowly, one finger at a time, began teasing the glove off. 

Barry tracked the movement with his eyes without prompting, giving Len a quickly-dismissed impulse to reward him. A quizzical furrow formed between his brows, and he stole a single glance up and risked a quick, faint tilt of his head to one side. Confused, yes, but not combative. The difference between “What are you doing?” and “What the hell are you doing?”  

It was Len’s turn to feel an annoyed burn of impatience. Barry was on his knees in front of a convicted killer, bound and gagged and stripped to his skin, and Barry still thought this was all part of a plan. Len had killed three men in front of Barry—and counting. The only plan he had now was finding out how far that stupid, blind trust could bend until it broke.

Len finished drawing the glove off slowly, and in the quiet of the room, nothing but the distant sounds of the river rolling past outside, he was certain Barry heard the rasp of leather over skin. 

Barry’s attention fractured as Len watched. His gaze flicked up from the glove for a single, distracted glance at Len’s eyes. Just below the line where the muzzle dug into the underside of Barry’s jaw, his throat bobbed on a swallow. 

Good, Len thought. Nervous was the first step toward suspicious, and suspicious might just keep Barry alive. 

Len looked away with easy disinterest, settling his attention to Barry’s unbruised shoulder. Barry sat up straighter as Len reached out with the glove in his hand, a hitch in his breath visible in the stuttering rise of his bare chest. 

When Len laid the glove out on the bare, unmarked skin there, Barry twitched like Len had stuck him with a knife.

Almost getting it, Len mused. Ignoring the urgent, searching flicker of green eyes in his direction, Len reached out with his newly bare hand and rested the tip of one finger just under the corner of Barry’s jaw. 

The black leather there was butter soft and warm from Barry’s skin. Just as slowly as he’d pulled off the glove, Len stroked the finger up the line of Barry’s jaw, following the sharp edge of it through the muzzle. Only then did he slide his gaze back to Barry’s to watch the emotions dart through those pale eyes. Confusion, yes, then surprise, with another sharp inhale. And then, with the first flush of healthy color to Barry’s face since he’d been dragged in, understanding. 

Yahtzee, Len thought with a smirk. 

He didn’t give Barry a chance to pull away. He caught him with two fingers under the edge of the muzzle, hard, knuckles snug against his windpipe, and jerked his chin up.

Barry jolted with the movement, full-body, back arching to accommodate the sudden, demanding angle of his neck, the glove tumbling to the ground. Eyes wide, he made a sound behind the muzzle that might’ve been Len’s name if he’d been able to open his mouth enough to say it. 

Somewhere behind Barry, Santini started to object, but he shut himself up before Len had to look his way again. Likely Mick had warned him off, a pointed hand on the heat gun’s handle, or the man had just remembered who he was dealing with. 

Len held Barry there at attention, letting him hang off the hook of his fingers. Heady wasn’t a strong enough word for it. It was a level of control he hadn’t imagined even back before Barry became Barry, when the Flash was a problem to be solved and not a single facet of a more fascinating, infuriating whole. The hero of Central City helpless at his feet, stripped of that golden cloak of lightning he wore everywhere like armor… 

And still not fighting Len an inch. 

Barry’s chest heaved, breath coming quick and shallow, that broken rib apparently the furthest thing from his mind. When Len met Barry’s gaze, his own eyes narrowing in frustration, Barry’s were stunned and breathless. But still, no fear there. 

Agitated, Len crooked his fingers tighter, forcing Barry’s chin up another inch. Barry’s lashes fluttered—maybe feeling that rib now, after all—and Len watched the muscles in his thighs flex as he nearly forced him up onto his knees.

Fight back. 

Barry didn’t so much as twist in his grip, eyes half shut. With Len’s fingers hooked under the edge of the mask, he could feel the heat of Barry’s breaths, nearly panting now. His face and throat were stained pink, exertion clearly catching up to him, and Len wondered if the mask was starting to cut off air after all. 

He loosened his grip and allowed Barry to relax back onto his heels. Barry’s breathing stayed ragged anyway, blush touching the top of his chest as Len frowned at the unreadable expression in his eyes, gone round and almost glassy. 

When Len slipped his fingers free of the mask, Barry didn’t move an inch, head tipped back where Len had left it. 

Len’s patience snapped, curling his gloved hand into a fist at his side. He could’ve snapped Barry’s neck in less than a second, bared to him like that, all fragile skin and sharp tendons. It would’ve been easy as breathing, and there would’ve been nothing that Barry’s powers or his little team could’ve done about it. 

Len took a sharp step forward, closing the rest of the distance between them. It brought the front of his hips nearly flush with the muzzle, his boots between Barry’s knees, which were falling open a little further with every uneven breath. 

It was—too much, frustration at the completely unearned trust, frustration that Barry had been reckless enough to get himself caught, both tangling confused with frustration at Barry. That even stripped and submissive on his knees in front of Len, offering him his throat, he was still the one goddamn thing Len wanted and couldn’t have. 

Len should have conceded that his self-restraint was clinging on by a thread. He should have taken a step back, drawled something droll and amusing, and ended the night with his sanity intact. 

Instead, Len curved a hand around either side of Barry’s neck and stroked them upwards slowly, deliberately.

How many ways could someone kill you just like this, Barry? 

Barry’s throat worked under his hands and he shivered, hard, even as he tipped his head back further, giving Len more room to take advantage of. Barry made another, fainter noise behind the muzzle, half-swallowed as his throat bobbed. 

One point to Len. Even Barry couldn’t miss the threat of Len’s fingertips pressed against the fragile bones of his neck. 

Len lifted them to the edge of Barry’s jaw, followed the line of the straps around his ears, and then reached forward to trace the leather up until his fingers met at the buckle on the back of his head.

The movement brought the parka up on either side of Barry’s head, caging him in, hopefully adding to the claustrophobia of having Len so completely in his space. Len hooked a finger under the loop of leather where it passed through the buckle. He paused there, poised to pull it tighter, and was about to close his hand around the strap and tug when Barry did the one thing he wasn’t counting on. 

He gave in. 

All of the last remaining fight went out of those narrow shoulders at once, nearly unbalancing Len where he’d been bracing his wrists on the steady line of them. 

Instead of using the opportunity to duck away—point made, Snart, let me out of this thing—Barry only swayed deeper into the circle of Len’s arms. Before Len could jerk backwards, half-certain that Barry was finally passing out—Barry brushed closer and rested his forehead against Len’s lower stomach. 

For the space of two heartbeats, Len’s mind went perfectly blank. And then he realized, with a level of disbelief so incredulous that he could feel it bleeding against his will into respect, what Barry had just done. 

He’d called Len’s bluff. 

No suit, no speed, no backup, bound and gagged and as powerless as Len ever could have hoped to have him, and Barry had called his goddamn bluff. 

Chips down, cards on the table, there was nothing else to do—Len took a step back. 

Cold air rushed back between their bodies. Even with that dampener keeping his powers in check, Barry must’ve been a hundred degrees, and Len’s jaw ached against the loss of his heat instantly. 

Barry fell back onto his heels, and Len didn’t wait for him to get his bearings. He hooked a finger through one of the ear loops, forcing the last shreds of anger into the movement, and jerked his head back up.

For the first time all night, Barry didn’t jolt to meet his gaze. Instead, he let three full seconds tick past before he lifted his eyes, as if looking up had been his idea all along. Hair disheveled, pupils nearly swallowing the thin green ring of his irises—

Barry smirked at him. 

It was unmistakable, muzzle be damned, eyes narrowing in such viciously smug satisfaction that Len was torn between shoving him away or dragging him into a dark corner.

Len tightened his grip in the edge of the muzzle, on the brink of deciding, when a low whistle cut through the room. 

“Well, shit. You really have got a way with ‘em, huh?” 

Santini’s voice was an unwelcome reminder of the unfinished business Len had to attend to, and he dragged his gaze away from Barry only after a dark look, promising him that he’d deal with him next.  

“Or maybe just with this one in particular,” Santini continued, grinning like he and Len had agreed on something. “Funny thing—he finally stopped burning through those cuffs when he overheard me tell my crew I was considering Cold as a buyer.”

Len slid his gaze back to Barry. Barry, who was looking anywhere but Len, apparently deeply interested in hearing anything Santini had to say for the first time since he’d dragged him through Len’s doors. Barry, who was still breathing hard and blushing to his roots. Barry, who was trying to draw his knees together even with Len still standing in between them. 

“Did he, now?” Len asked. 

The question wasn’t aimed at Santini, but he answered anyway. 

“Mmm-hmm.” He rocked back on his heels, inclined his head to Len in a pantomime of tipping a hat. “You got a reputation for looking after yours, after all. He must’ve thought you’d have some use for him or another.” He flashed a salacious grin; his objections to the ‘skin game’ clearly ended where his sales instincts began. “I figured maybe the feeling was mutual, and you’d appreciate first dibs on the sale.”

Lips pulling into a sharp, predatory smirk, Len lifted the toe of one boot and planted it on the inside of Barry’s thigh. “I’m considering it.” 

Len pushed Barry’s legs apart with ease. Barry’s color deepened, and he jerked his head like he had any chance in hell of jarring Len’s hand loose from the strap of the muzzle now. Len clicked his tongue in a light, mocking reprimand, and Barry flashed him a glare for it, even as he stopped twisting under his grip. 

He didn’t fight it when Len drew his head to one side, far enough to give him an unimpeded view down the front of his body. The blush stretched halfway down his chest, past nipples that were hard and peaked like Len had just spent an hour teasing them with his tongue. He didn’t need to nudge Barry’s thighs wider to see the thick, heavy outline of his cock straining at the front of the red shorts, but he did it anyway, and was rewarded when it twitched at the demanding press of his boot.  

“I’ll take him,” Len drawled, and Barry’s hips hitched forward as Len guided his legs apart another inch, pulling the thin material taut over his groin.

Across the room, Santini laughed. “I haven’t even told you how much.”

“Not paying.” Len didn’t bother looking up; Barry had lifted his gaze to him again, and Len was going to need a more compelling reason than a low level Santini to look away from the impatient heat in his eyes. “Mick?” 

Mick strode past them without a glance. Santini took one stumbling step backwards, then did the first smart thing he’d done all day: turned heel and ran.

Something in Len’s smirk made Barry blink, brow furrowing. He said something behind the muzzle, chin lifting in a way he probably thought was authoritative, and came across entirely the opposite on his knees. 

Len had heard the words “No killing” come out of that mouth enough times to recognize it from cadence alone, but he tugged Barry up by the muzzle instead, until he got the message and stumbled to his feet. 

“Didn’t catch that,” Len drawled. 

Barry looked ready to argue, as if he weren’t half-wrecked already, skin flushed, hair wild. But he did a distracted double-take when Len shrugged out of his coat, and his gaze went dark and intent as it slid down the dark clothes he was wearing underneath, shouts behind him forgotten.

“You can fill me in later,” Len said, turning away. He shucked his belt as he sauntered toward his chair, let the buckle ring when he dropped it to the concrete. 

Barry was still standing indecisively in the middle of the room when Len settled into the chair with a comfortable sprawl, legs spread, boots wide. His gaze caught on the thick press of Len’s cock, hard against his jeans, and Len flashed his teeth at him in something too sharp to be a smile.

“Got somewhere to be, bolt cutters are in the workshop.” Len indicated a door to the side with a tip of his head, even as he moved his hand to the front of his jeans. “If not...” 

He rubbed his thumb over the button of his jeans, enjoying the pressure against his cock—one slow circle, another. The third time, he slid the button free. 

And Barry came willingly. 

[bumbledi]

♡Daddy’s sunshine♡

time skip! Ushijima Wakatoshi and his daughter

Genre: fluff

Summary: Wakatoshi and parenthood

Note: Thank you so much for all the likes! I’m just here to give my boy Wakatoshi the recognition he deserves. I apologize if there’s any misspellings!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Little Megumi is about to turn 5 months and she changes everyday…

She’s now teething and she’s definitely more active, she giggles a lot and she is learning how to roll over her tummy and so.

You came back to work a couple of weeks ago, you are mostly working from home but sometimes you drop by the office at special times. And Wakatoshi is currently taking the season off, it’s easier for you to work mostly from home and he being at home helping with Megumi.

“Time for me to go” you said entering the kitchen with your bag in hand

“Don’t forget your bento…” your husband said while washing the dishes

“When did I get myself a trophy husband?” You said hugging your husband from the back and kissing his shoulder

“I thought I’ve always been one…” he said, making you laugh.

“I’ll come back around 4 or 5 pm” you said grabbing the the lunch bag with the bento your husband prepared for you.

“Have a good day, darling”

“You too…”

Once you turned around, you saw little Megumi on her high chair biting on her teething toy and Mochi was watching her while sitting on the counter next to her.

“See you later, my baby” you get closer to her and she immediately hold up her free hand, trying to touch you, only for you to kiss her chubby hand “mommy loves you” after that, you kissed her cheek multiple times and after petting Mochi too, you walked to the front door. “I’ll be out now”

“Take care!”

You put on your shoes and walked out the door.

After that, it was only Wakatoshi and Megumi (and Mochi of course).

You move he is done with the dishes, he starts making himself a protein shake so he can drink before his run.

“Once I’m done with his, we’ll go for our run, Megumi-chan…”

Since Megumi was 1 month old Wakatoshi started to take morning runs with her, he puts her in her stroller and go out for around an hour.

After a quick nappy change, getting her into some warmer clothes and making sure he had packed a change of clothes, her pacifier, a toy and anything that her daughter might need, they were ready to head out.

He would place a cover over the stroller to protect Megumi from the cold morning breeze, specially since the weather is getting a little cold and he likes to take very early runs because is less likely to be approach or recognize.

It felt so good to have even an hour to do something that he enjoyed back into his life. The last couple of months have been so intense, he would have never imagine something that is not an intense training session would be as exhausting as taking care of his daughter.

But it was all worth it, she was growing strong and healthy and only with the slightest glare at her, his days would get instantly better. She has some big lashes that he would stare at for hours and some chubby cheeks and hands he would kiss without getting tired. He never thought someone would be as close as perfect as you are but looking at his daughter made his heart beat with joy.

Like in this moment, he was simply starting at her while she slept soundly. He paid the combini onigiris he got for you and headed back home.

As he was almost getting home, Megumi started to get fuzzy, it was almost time to eat.

“we’re here Megumi-chan… hold on”

He hurried to get into the apartment and as soon as he was in, he started to prepare her bottle.

“You don’t need a nappy change too, right?”

As soon as he realized she didn’t, he check if the bottle was right and started feeding her while sitting on the couch.

“Thanks for eating so good…”

One she was done, he burped her and proceeded to rock her so she could take her first nap.

She would hold her hand up so she could touch her daddy’s face until her little eyes were closed.

Wakatoshi would place her on her automatic rocker and literally run to take a quick shower. He knew leaving the baby alone wasn’t the best option but he tried his best even without someone there to help.

Thank god, Megumi was sleeping peacefully when he came back and that gave him extra time to do some chores. Feed and play with Mochi, check some emails and even watch some volleyball matches’ recordings.

Once his little girl started to wake up, she demanded attention.

“Yes, yes, I’m here, baby…”

He took her out of her sit and she immediately stopped. She loves being with her dad.

“You good? What about some tummy time now?”

He place her face-up on her mat, and she immediately started to try to roll over.

“There you go, use your legs Megumi… Like we practiced” and as if she understood his words, she rolled over. “That’s it! Nice job Megumi-chan!” Seeing his daughter’s achievements was the best thing he has ever experienced, it made him feel as good as winning a match.

He saw how Mochi started approaching her and rubbing her head against Megumi’s. She loves the little human too.

The whole morning was filled with strength exercises for Megumi and a couple of nappy changes, until it was time for her second nap. Until then Wakatoshi stud-up and ate his lunch, some tonkatsu that was left and rice was enough.

Megumi was still sleeping so he decided to start preparing the dinner. He thought something easy and common will be fine. He prepared some miso soup, grilled fish with salad on the side and obviously some rice.

The was getting the rice cooker ready when he started to hear some fuss that turned into crying.

He looked over to the living room that was right in front of him and so his girl waking up, a little earlier than usual, maybe she needs another nappy change.

He hurried with the rice, washed his hands and rushed to pick up Megumi. And indeed, she needed to be changed.

“Just in time, baby. Mommy will be here soon and we ran out of nattō for her” without wasting any more time, he put her on her carrier, put a hat on her head, he doesn’t want to risk it and have her face all over the internet. Once they were ready, he walked to the closest konbini. Thankfully nobody approached him but he definitely got recognized by the cashier.

They came back quickly, he left the nattō on the counter and then left Megumi sitting on her mat again this time he laid down next to her and she immediately giggled and approached his face to hug it and gave him what looked like kisses, making her dad laugh. Not long after, the sound of the front door caught his attention.

“I’m home!” You sang while taking off your shoes.

“Welcome home!”

You walked into your house and found your husband laying on the floor with your baby smooching his face.

“What’s going on here?” You said giggling.

“Bonding time…” he answered.

Just by hearing your voice, Megumi started to coo and tried to reach her hands so you could pick her up.

“Megumi-Chan, Megumi-Chan!” You left your stuff on the counter and hurried to pick your daughter up “how are you, my love?” You kissed her head and hugged her “did you have fun with daddy?” She reached to touch your face and smiled “I can tell!” You kissed her again “I missed you so much…” you hugged her again.

“And me?” You heard your husband

“How could I not?” You approached him and held his face with one hand so you could kiss him “you worked hard, my love” he gave you a warm smile. Not late after, you felt something walking between your legs. “Hello, Mochi! Did you miss mommy too?” She meowed, making you laugh.

“You hungry? I fixed you some dinner”

“For real?” He nodded “thanks, my love!”

You three, walked to the kitchen and continued talking about the day.

And Wakatoshi could only look closely to you, holding his daughter while talking to her and explaining what was in the pots.

That a perfect sight… He couldn’t ask for anything better.

[lesbianoms]

You in a woman's gut, while she mingles with other preds, with their own filled guts. All of them talking about their respective gut trophies. Maybe even squishes you against another woman's belly?

Oooh that sounds like a great time~ especially when you consider the impact that long-term endo would have on me~

I’d be disoriented and horny as she fondles me from the outside, squishing and patting her bare belly. Everybody knows the life of a gut trophy is an unceremonious one; disjoined snapshots of loose memories and events. After all, no meal could think straight after being curled up in such a hot, humid place for so long… 🥵

My days are spent squirming mindlessly as her gut churns around me, growling and gurgling at the indigestible lump of meat inside of it. No harm will come to me, of course… but even if it did, it’s not like I’d notice~

There are moments of lucidity. That morning, she slaps her belly hard, giving me a spank on my ass as I yelp and try to pay attention (I always curl up with my back facing forward).

“We’re going to a party,” she purrs, rubbing up and down her round, sloshy tum.

I moan and wiggle, nuzzling against her squishy stomach walls. Time passes. And then I hear little snippets of the world outside, as my pred chats with others like her.

“….clothes… but they always get ruined…. swallowed half my wardrobe…”

A loving stroke against my form rouses me, and I’m able to catch my pred’s response. She laughs, jiggling me around.

“Well just don’t give them anything to wear at all! It feels so much better when they squirm around naked~”

Before I know it, there’s a mind-boggling amount of pressure that squishes me up against something soft, and I can feel something squirming against my squirming. I let out a little moan.

“Feel that? So much more responsive… 💕”

She lets out a big belch, and her stomach squeezes me tight as all that air is released from her depths. Long ago, maybe I would have wished to be free from this slimy prison as well… but that life is someone else’s now.

As the other woman walks away, I can feel myself slipping into a dreamless slumber. The overstimulation always makes me so sleepy… and as I close my eyes and my heartbeat slows, I feel two hands at my sides, petting me softly.

“UURAP-! Good girl…”

[gryphonlover]

I’m in a yapping mood so I’ve come to bother you (I’m so sorry), anyways here’s how I think the chain would play BG3:

Time- he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He falls for every trap and he accidentally kills characters he shouldn’t have because he trusted the wrong people. He definitely played the dark urge because he thought “that one looks interesting” but didn’t fully think that choice through, and he was TRYING to be a good person but he’s absolutely given into the evil thoughts by act 2. Doesn’t even realize romancing the characters is an OPTION until Lae’zel comes up to him like “i want you” and then he screams

Wars- He’s still stuck in character creator /j Fr tho he put HOURS into designing his tav and his created like, the most conventionally attractive mf out there (it’s definitely a paladin half high elf with that ONE specific face). He’d romance Wyll (best man in existence) or Lae’zel (terrifying lady). I’d say he plays it for the dating sim but he’s also INSANE and likes attacking people

Twi- He’d play a sweet little tiefling druid. He’s just there for the vibes, he just wants to pet the owlbear cub the rest of the game stresses him out (he’s a stardew valley kinda guy). He stays in the safety of act 1 and just runs around

Sky- he takes his bg3 incredibly seriously, he has over 700 hours. I think he’d be a cleric, every single time. He’s GOOD at combat, he’d good at building the characters, he loves exploring

Hyrule- Ranger. Romanced the emperor because he thought it was funny and then had a LOT of explaining to do when Legend saw he got a trophy for that. He just makes whatever he thinks the funniest choice would be

Legend- He’s one of the few who has the strength to play a different character every play through. He loves exploring the game and he’s romanced all the characters just to see how different they all are and he loves all their lore. Has more hours than Sky but pretends he doesn’t so he doesn’t get judged for being insane

Wild- Wizard or Sorcerer, either way he blows everything up. Pickpockets all the npcs for cash because he thinks its funny, makes HORRIBLE decisions because he’s curious to see what happens. Definitely doesn’t know you can pay Withers to revive people after they die-

Four- plays the exact same dragonborn fighter every single time, but each play through he does gets crazier and crazier until he’s making INSANE decisions and everyone gets the WORST possible endings, but he’s having fun and he likes being evil

Wind- he picked to be a sorcerer, but other than that he randomized everything else and ended up playing a hot pink gnome he named “Ronald”. He’s having the time of his life

-crazylittlejester

This is the best thing I've heard ALL DAY. I'm not kidding. (And you can bother me anytime. That's why the ask ox is open. 👍)

I have to admit, I had the same reaction as Time when I discovered the dating part, and I've never even played the game. 😅

11/10, totally agree. They would love D&D so much, my goodness. Someone needs to make an LU version of that one episode of VLD where all the paladins play a one-session campaign. It would be complete chaos.

[daisymeade]

"I wish we could spend some time in private. I'd like to get to know the new Galfrey a little better."

Queen Galfrey: Arching an eyebrow, Galfrey smiles ironically. "Am I imagining things, or do you mean to conduct this interrogation in your chambers?" Option 1: "Interrogation? Perish the thought. Nothing but a friendly meeting."

Queen Galfrey: "A friendly encounter with the one who owns the contract for my soul? That sounds rather intimate." Continued: "The old Galfrey would have found many good reasons to reject your offer. But now... Why should I care what anyone thinks? I am a queen and I have the right to do as I wish. Lead on.

Afterward:

Queen Galfrey: Galfrey stretches her arms, wearing a tired but satisfied smile. "I hope you are pleased with your victory. I shall remember this night with regret that it will never be repeated." Continued: "You know, I was attracted to you before. It pains me to realize that this would not have happened between us had I not renounced Iomadae. I acted like a little girl who feared the censure of her bigger, older protector." Option 1: "How do you feel?"

Queen Galfrey: "I feel alive. All those years weighed down by armor, all those years weighed down by duty and expectation - that is all in the past. Finally I feel entitled to express my own desires and passions." Continued: I now know what life truly is. And it looks like you."

Option 2: "I want us to be together." Queen Galfrey: Galfrey smiles with slight regret. "No, you don't. You simply wanted to sample your trophy, but actually being with me... That would be against your nature." Continued: "We are not equals. With little effort, you convinced me to renounce everything I had believed in my whole life. You are immeasurably stronger than I am. You can read my thoughts and control my feelings. I am mortal, but you are something else. A union between us would be a misalliance. Therefore, let this night remain a thrilling encounter, not the start of a doomed and dreary liaison."

Option 2: "I know we can be happy together. Trust me." Queen Galfrey: Galfrey bites her lip in anger. "Happy? You think I could be happy as someone's... pet? I may have sold my soul to you, but I have not lost my pride." The Queen's voice softens: "You must see that if I were to stand by your side, I should be tormented by my insignificance. Like a peasant standing beside a deity. It simply will not do." "Perhaps one day I shall be your equal. I shall become a devil, and rise through the hierarchy of Hell, and then we can be together. If you still wish it then, I should be happy to acquiesce. But for now, a long road lies ahead of me."

[elisedonut]

What would you think of a mafia! Marcus x government agent!Percy ?

Idk I was in the shower and thought how their dynamics would be.

I thinks that Marcus would be the leader of a mafia and he tell his minions to kidnapp a government official that has a low profile but has his contacts for what ever reason (maybe info about their future plans? Idk!)

And then they bring Percy to him and he is just like frozen in place because "why is he so pretty?" But then he just continues and gives them like one condition, to not physically harm him bc he doesn't want to see him all bruised and bloody

Days go by and he starts to build an obsession and make Percy be in his office, maybe in his knees and just decide to forget abt getting info or want ever and just keep him for himself like a pet

This could be like noncon type or dubcon or just stocoldrom syndrom if it isn't one sided, but I think it probably be one sided, more tragic and kind of dark romance?

I though that maybe he makes Percy live with him as like a little house husband o'r as his trophy of some sort

I know the mafia world is like sock and twisted but I think it can be really cool to write like that. Really againsty and highly unhealthy relationship because*cough cough* one is held hostage

Idk if sex is involved, probably yes but noncon sex it not something really digestivable for some people.

How do you think it would work out?

Hi yes hi

Im late again Im sorry im bad at answering asks

but yeah you had me the moment you said Marcus looked at him and went "wait- Pretty"

this kind of vaguely reminds me of There's Rue for You by Mr_Customs_Man and i really like that one even though the Flintley isn't actually like the main point and it doesnt end well

But yeah for sure that concept can work but yeah would likely have dubcon which is so fun

Like thats such a fun concept

im kinda obsessed with it

i don't actually read a lot of Mafia!Au but from what i have read I do think Percy would make a LI for a mafia boss

also the idea of someone being like "I thought we were trying to get information out of him boss?"

just to cut to Marcus with Percy on his lap

Just that funny switch going from Percy being manhandled as he's grabbed to all of a sudden being given this giant cushy room but not being allowed to leave it

like he would be so confused and it would be so funny

also we already know that I'm weak to Percy being weak to people finding him attractive which this kind of au would have easily

even though unless Marcus outright says it it might take a minute for Percy to realize that's what happened

Also just immediate infatuation with Flintley is just so fun to me

Marcus locks eyes with him when his goons force Percy onto his knees in front of him and his brain is just immediately like "Oh"

and plans just change within seconds

very fun