#that last one i think happens In The House the entire time

[xaiquyn]

I'm bored, so answering all of them in one right here.

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

The entire cast of the Moomins (but especially Snufkin and Joxter)

lighter or matches?

Matches. I like the smell of them and I weirdly struggle with using a lighter.

do you leave the window open at night?

In summer when it's hot, yes. When it's cold? No.

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

I genuinely believe that ghosts could exist. Not saying they do exist, saying the could.

what color are your eyes?

Blue/green. It's hard to tell and seemingly changes with the lighting.

why did you do that?

What?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

Scrunchies are fun. :)

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

Five. All open, two empty.

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

Don't drink coffee. :/

would you slaughter the rich?

Yes. Let me maul the corpses of the rich.

favorite extracurricular activity?

Art of all sorts.

what kind of day is it?

In terms of weather? Cold. To the point where I skipped school to avoid frostbite. In terms of my mood? Weirdly contented. I feel properly at peace for the first time in a while.

when was the last time you ate?

'Bout five hours ago. (It's 20:00 rn)

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

ABSOLUTELY. One of, if not, my favourite smells. I love it with all my heart and I apparently taught my parents the word for that smell. (petrichor)

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

No.

can you drive?

Nope.

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

Genuinely don't know. Never cared to figure out what either of those would really entail.

what hair products do you use?

Like I pay attention to that.

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

No. Nail polish is the most vile smell on this horrid Earth filled with horrid smells.

do you say soda or pop?

Depends on which one whoever I'm speaking with says.

something you’ve kept since childhood?

This old plush I've had since I was a baby.

what type of person are you?

Introvert?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

Love it! That's my kind of weather. Even better is when there's a fog covering everything to the point of barely being visible. I like to go out into the woods near my house and pretend I'm a cryptid.

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

Stargazing.

perfume/body spray or lotion?

No?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

Having a girlfriend/boyfriend. Had to replay that one alot to figure out I'm aroace..

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

Last night? 'Bout four.

do you wear a mask?

Nope.

how do you like your shower water?

Lukewarm at the hottest. Cold if I'm in the mood for it.

is there dishes in your room?

Yep. There's a bowl I forgot about earlier today.

what type of music keeps you grounded?

Folksy-type music. Especially the type I get wanderlust from.

do you have a favorite towel?

No? Do some people?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

Christmas. I had a bit of a breakdown when it was like 19:00 or smth, the day was a bit overwhelming. And my dad noticed, and for the next two hours we drove around the town.

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

A lot! To name a few: Flight of the Crows by Jhariah, Suffering by Amélie Farren, Shut Eye by Stealing Sheep, and Constellations by The Oh Hellos to name a few.

what’s your timezone?

GMT-5 (I think)

how many times have you changed your url?

Once

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

Nobody.

a soap bar that smells good?

You think I pay attention to that? When showering, I'm not even mildly present. I am fully dissociating.

do you use lip balm?

Nope.

did you have any snacks today?

Most of the food I had today was snack, minus bacon.

how do you take your coffee?

I don't drink coffee.

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

Ao3.

what’s your take on spicy foods?

Love 'em.

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

My mother.

can you remember what happened yesterday?

Not much of it.

favorite holiday film?

Don't really watch Holiday films.

what was the last message you sent?

Me confirming to my overbearing mother that I was still alive at school on Monday.

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

Still underage.

can you skip rocks?

Yep.

can i tag you in random stuff?

PLEASE. I LOVE TO BE INCLUDED IN ANYTHING.

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[thanosscross]

In my club - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader Part two

Summary: After convincing yourself you couldn't run into Seung Hyun again, you followed your friends out to the club again, only to be to be ditched while extremely wasted, only to sober up and realize you were right back where you started

Warnings: Reader being oblivious and wasted, reader being a lil cutie

The next morning you were quick to sneak off back home to your friends house, you couldn't help it, once you sobered up, not only did you realize how hot of a guy the man asleep next to you was, but you also put two and two together to see who this man was.

Going back to the club you were drunk, it was your friend's birthday weekend so you felt the need to do what she wanted, so if she wanted to have a weekend long bender for her birthday, who were you to judge? You swore the extremely attractive man wouldn't be back, but how wrong you were.

As Ji-Yong approached the club doors he bumped his shoulder into his friends "Seung Hyun, It was a one night stand, that's the point, she leaves" He groaned, his friend had been in a pouty mood since he had woken up alone, it was silly to think, but he had at least wanted you see you one last time before they had to leave the country again for another show. "Look, It's packed tonight, I'm sure we'll find someone else" He smirked leading his friend into the club, making their way to the V.I.P section, Seung Hyun found himself scanning the crowd for you face. You were by the bar, downing your fifth shot of the night, or your first shot from the club, as you made your way back to the dance floor you took notice of two things, the guy following you from behind, and your friends grinding on two other guys. You tried to brush off the feeling of the man creeping behind you, attempting to dance his way to you. Unknown to you, someone else had also noticed you, both of men making their way down the stairs, Seung Hyun making a B-line for you around everybody that was smooshed together on the dance floor. Before the man could reach you Seung Hyun cut him off, Ji-Yong smiling as he walked over to you "Nice to see you again!" He smirked, you just gasped, excited to see one of your new friends from the night before, too drunk to be aware of the altercation happening a few feet away "I advise you leave her alone. She's spoken for" Seung Hyun stated loudly over the music, rolling his eyes of course it was a drunk American man trying something with a woman. "She doesn't look spoken for, look at the skirt she's wearing" The man slurred, Seung Hyun clenched his fists "Just leave!" He shouted, squaring his shoulders back to keep you from the man's view.

You giggled as you danced with Ji-Yong, holding both of his hands in yours gently as you rolled your body with the music, bending at your hips slightly as you shook them against your friends hips. He just laughed dancing behind you, occasionally glancing back making sure his friend didn't need back-up. Whenever Seung Hyun finally got the guy to walk in the other direction he turned his attention to you, making his way over to you, smirking as he saw your face light up seeing his. "Top! Oh my gosh! I found J-Ji-Yong!" You hiccuped, giggling tapping Ji-yong's shoulder gently before turning your attention to Seung Hyun again "I see! What happened this morning?" He asked, holding your hips in his hands protectively as you continued to dance, as Ji-yong noticed how crowded the dance floor was, he chose to stay close behind you, both men making sure there was no way of anybody touching you without getting passed them first. "You're like..really famous!" You shouted loudly, looking at him in shock "And I was in your house!" You continued in shock, he just laughed feeling his nerves washing away, he was worried the entire time he had done something wrong or you had regrets whenever you woke up, but instead your adorable ass just got spooked. "Yes, we are" He confirmed before pressing his lips right below your ear "Does that scare you?" He asked, his tone deeper, being this close he could truly smell how strong the alcohol smell was on you, glancing behind you towards his friend, he realized that Ji-yong was in his own world, watching around you keeping an eye on any dude that looked too drunk.

Making the decision to take you somewhere less crowded, Seung Hyun slowly coaxed you into following him to their booth area in the V.I.P area. "Where are your friends?" Seung Hyun asked, noticing how badly you were swaying and stumbling as you walked, you scanned the crowd looking for your friends, not noticing them anywhere you turned around "I think they left!" You shouted over the music, if it weren't for the large amount of alcohol in your system, you would've been pissed and panicking. As Seung Hyun heard your reply he scoffed "What? They couldn't of left! You're still here! Are you sure?" He asked, standing up to look around himself, you just caught his wrist gently "Dance with me" You pouted, Seung Hyun sighed, feeling complexed, they came here to find women to sleep with, not babysit, so he could just call you a taxi, see you out, and go back on his way, but the voice inside of his head told him to follow you, your eyes sparkling under the lights almost like the stars would in the clear night sky. Seung Hyun just let you drag him to the balcony spot, starting to move your arms and hips to the bass of the music, not noticing how Seung Hyun watched you, smiling anytime you stumbled or almost lost balance as you danced, his hands sitting protectively on your sides. As the night grew later, you continued to pull the much taller man around, he just silently followed much to his friends surprise. It wasn't that Seung Hyun was rude to women, he was quite respectful, he just didn't have that much patience for drunk or clingy women, and you were currently both, and if you tried to run off to talk to somebody else, Seung Hyun was quick to grab your waist pulling you back to him "I am a single grown women!" You'd argue, Top would just tell you that you were way too drunk to try and get a hook up right now.

You pouted as the club announced it's closing soon, Seung Hyun mocked your expression before holding your purse open for you "Come on, we're going to try and get ahold of your friends" He stated, he knew it was time to go whenever Ji-Yong passed out on the V.I.P couch and whenever you started yawning, followed by getting flustered and shy anytime Seung Hyun looked in your direction or spoke to you. Pulling your phone out, you drunkingly tried to tap your friends number, taking a few tries you finally heard it ring once before being sent to voicemail, you tried your other friend, but ended up with the same result. Handing your phone to Seung Hyun for some reason you felt a lump start to form in your throat, your friends had ditched you. "hey! hey! You're okay, I'm not going to leave you alone here" Seung Hyun quickly interjected noticing your expression, thinking something entirely different you nodded placing your hands under his shirt, he was quick to grab your wrists stopping you "Beautiful, you are way too drunk" He rejected, caressing his thumb over your knuckles before continuing "You don't have to do anything, I'll make sure you're safe" He restated, holding you close to him as he slowly made his way to Ji-Yong, helping him to his feet before heading out to the limo.

Seung Hyun still couldn't understand his own action, why was he taking you home? It sounded a little rude but he wasn't getting anything out of this, he wasn't going to sleep with somebody who was as drunk as you were, while he was basically sober, it was beyond wrong and he'd fight anybody who tried to do so around him, so why was he doing this? He was pulled out of his thoughts by your lips pressing gently against his jawline, shuttering under your warm breath and soft lips he gently cupped your cheeks "Beautiful..Not now" He whispered gently, offering a soft kiss to your knuckles, not liking the way your face fell everytime he rejected your advances. As you walked into their home again, you clung to Seung Hyun's arm, not wanting to get lost in the twists and turns "Upstairs" He motioned, holding up a finger to Ji-Yong and two other men before walking you upstairs to the familiar room. Seung Hyun started grabbing clothes from his closet as you stumbled around, awing at everything in his room, even his blinds. "Beautiful..sit down" He whispered trying to get you to not hang halfway out of his bedroom window. His hands were on you quickly as he watched your foot start to slip against his floor.

Getting you to change into something more comfortable was a fight, anytime he offered something to wear you just offered him a confused look stating that they weren't yours. After Seung Hyun finally managed to get you to lay down you were passed out, sure to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. As He made his way back downstairs he looked at his friends who looked at him smiling and cooing as he walked further into the living room. "Seung Hyun! Do you have a crush?" Dae-sung sang out, Ji-yong laughing from his seat, it being obvious that he had filled in their bandmates on his situation with you. "No, I just wanted her to be safe" Seung Hyun argued grabbing his book and pouring himself a drink "You couldn't of just helped her get a cab?" Tae-yang teased, Seung Hyuns heated up, knowing they had a point "Why can't you guys just let me liveeee" He groaned throwing his head back, continuing to argue for about three hours, not noticing your small frame standing at the end of the stairs around 7 AM. You were still wearing his shirt and sweapants, they were tied tightly around your waist, the pantlegs still covering your feet slightly, still trying to figure out what day it was and where you were your eyes landed on Seung Hyun.

Memories started to rush back to you, of course you fucking found him again, why wouldn't you? Drunk you has her type, and Seung Hyun hit every box perfectly, you couldn't help but feel the same panic from the night before, except now instead of the house being quiet and seemingly empty, you had four men staring at you. Ji-Yong sitting with a knowing smirk on his face as he took in how cute you looked half awake, Dae-Sung and Tae-Yang smiled brightly in awe, of course Seung Hyun found someone somehow more adorable than he was in the morning, Seung Hyun offered you a sympathetic smile. "W-What happened last night?" You mumbled, standing in your spot, you weren't going to lie, every single one of them intimidated you, between your knowledge of who they were, and their looks alone you were like a deer in headlights in front of them. You wanted to run off so bad, move away and leave the country, but you couldn't your phone was somewhere around this house, and you needed that more than anything. Seung Hyun noticed the lost panicked look on your face, slowly standing and making his way to you, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes "Are you okay, beautiful?" He asked softly, you face immediately went hot with a blush as you brought the sleeves of the shirt you were wearing to hide your cheeks "I-I just..I'm so sorry I just don't remember anything, I-I should go" You muttered, Seung Hyun was quick to grab your hand, pulling you close to him "You're okay, You were..very drunk last night" He chuckled, brushing your hair behind your ear gently "I just..got nervous, figured I could pre-game" You admitted sheepishly, you weren't sure why but anytime you looked into this man's eyes you wanted to spill all of your life secrets and stories to him. "You should figure you aren't well at holding your alcohol" He teased, smiling softly at you as you held onto his hand gently blushing even more.

Ji-yong smirked leaning over a bit "See? She's all over him drunk, but sober it's like she's terrified" He whispered, they had all agreed, if it weren't for Seung Hyun clearly feeling something towards you, they'd all try to shoot their shot with you. "Why don't you hang out for a little bit, I had fun the other night, and you left before I could talk about anything with you" Seung Hyun offered, looking back over to where he sat "I-I don't know.." You whispered nervously, feeling shy under all of the other men's stares "Don't worry about them, they're harmless boys" He whispered, gently placing his hands on your shoulders "As soon as you would like to live, just let me know, I'll make sure you get home safe" Seung Hyun offered, you nodded slightly, blushing brightly squeaking in shock whenever he took your hand in his leading you to the couch, sitting you down next to him before resting his arm behind you on the top of the couch.

--

What do you guys think? You like? I miss hearing from you guys :(

--

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

[achilles-rage]

leaning in for a kiss but pulling away last second from the psychical intimacy list with also 3)friends with benefits from the smut prompt list with buck

yay i love this!! (also so sorry this is ass. i wrote the entire thing, and then tumblr mobile went down and i lost it all, so i had to rewrite it from memory)

also please keep sending these, they're fun!!

"leaning in for a kiss but pulling away last second" from this post, and "friends with benefits" from this post

MDNI- 18+ only!

you know you shouldn't be here. you know that this can only end horribly. buck is one of your best friends, and you can't imagine how awkward it would be if things went wrong, but you still find yourself here, on buck's doorstep, close to midnight.

your situation had started a couple months ago when you both came home drunk from the bar. one thing had led to another and you were sprawled out on his bed, both of you completely naked as he thrusted into you slowly, yet deeply.

you had both woken up the next morning slightly embarrassed, vowing it would never happen again, but somehow, when either one of you were lonely, you always end up in this same situation.

tonight is no different. you came to his house after an exceptionally bad date, hoping that buck could take your mind off of things.

he pulls you into his apartment quickly, and after telling him every painful detail of your date, your lips find his, and pretty soon, you're straddling his lap on the couch.

your kisses are hungry, yet lazy, and your hips set the pace as a slow grind against his lap as you claw at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours. he parts from your lips just long enough for you to take his shirt off of him, his hands not leaving your hips as they help you move against his hard cock beneath his jeans.

when you finally sink onto him, feeling the burning stretch of him filling you up so perfectly, you grip his shoulders hard. you catch yourself thinking about having him like this all the time. having him as yours completely, not just as a fuck buddy.

it’s not just that he’s good at what he does, either, although he definitely is, he also makes you feel so loved, so seen. 

“god, you’re gorgeous,” he always tells you while his hands roam your body, “always so good for me.” and your heart always soars.

you’re always so overwhelmed with his attention, and he has such a special way of making you feel adored. if it wasn’t with his words, it would be with his touch; groping and squeezing at every part of exposed skin while his eyes follow the path of his hands, drinking in your soft belly, and your chest, and your thick thighs. you can see the way he looks at you, but you can also feel the way he treasures having you like this. all his for the night.

he helps you roll your hips against his, eyes trained on the way your face contorts in pleasure and the way his cock disappears past your glistening folds. and, when you both finally cum, he buries his face into your chest, using one arm wrapped around your soft middle to keep you pressed firmly against him while the other hand focuses on your clit, fingers circling the sensitive bud and ensuring that you get every last bit of pleasure that he can give you.

he always kisses you after too, and then cleans you up, but tonight, you can’t bring yourself to kiss him back. the entire night you’ve been thinking about how much you want him as more than just this, and you feel embarrassed that you’ve fallen for the man that you have a friends with benefits situation going on with.

you can’t let him kiss you. it’s always gentle, and you’re afraid that if he kisses you one more time, your heart will break completely. as if his kisses are more intimate than having him inside of you.

he brings his lips towards yours, pulling you into him with one hand on the side of your neck, and at the last second, you drop your head and lean back slightly. 

he notices immediately, and pulls back, brows furrowing in confusion when he sees your sad eyes.

“hey, hey, hey. what’s wrong? look at me.” he says softly, bringing a finger up to the underside of your chin and forcing your face back up.

“i can’t do this anymore.” you whisper. you look up into his eyes, and you can feel your heart breaking more. he’s everything you could’ve asked for, and he’s nothing more than a friend.

“why not? did i do something wrong?” he asks nervously, feeling all the air being knocked out of him as your words settle in. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he silently prays that he hasn’t done something to fuck everything up.

“no. you did everything right. so right that you’ve ruined every man for me. and all i can ever think about is you.” you explain defeatedly, finally feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you laugh pathetically at your situation.

you’re not sure if you’re crying from sadness, or embarrassment, but either way, you know that you can’t let another tear fall. you don’t want things to get any worse than they already are.

without another word, buck pulls your lips to his, kissing you passionately. he tries to convey all his feelings into this kiss, trying to tell you that there’s no reason to cry, that he wants you too. you feel dizzy as you kiss him back, melting into the kiss and feeling unable to think about what this kiss means. all you can think about is his skin against yours. his cock still buried inside of you. his hands moving up and down the bare skin of your sides.

“i love you.” he whispers when he pulls away, bringing your foreheads together as his thumb moves in comforting strokes along your cheek.

“you- you do?” you ask, unable to speak louder than a whisper. you feel like what you heard couldn’t have been what he just said. surely you misheard him, and if you speak any louder, you’re sure your voice will crack, which will cause more tears to fall.

“i’ve always loved you.” he clarifies, pulling your forehead away from his and looking deeply into your eyes as he holds your face in his hands.

you let out a shaky breath, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. but you find none. his eyes are full of love, and you can see the hint of fear as well, as if he’s afraid that you don’t feel the same, despite all that you’ve said.

“i love you, too.” you whisper, sniffling softly as a grin erupts on your face. he grins as well, and then his lips are on yours again, claiming you as his own. 

“god, i love you so much.” he murmurs against your lips, hands moving in a desperate attempt to pull you impossibly closer. you’re finally his. all his.

[unholywriters]

Chapter Five - New Teachings, new Friend

╰┈➤ Paring: Demon!changbin x male!demon reader

╰┈➤ Tags: poly!stray kids, poly!chan, poly!felix, poly!changbin, poly!hyunjin, poly!seungmin, poly!lee know, poly!jeongin, poly!han, possessive stray kids, demon AU, Sin AU, royalty AU, talks of hell, demon mentions

╰┈➤ Word Count: 7k

╰┈➤ Parts: teaser, 01, 02, 03, 04

╰┈➤ Taglist: @a-short-ass-disappointment @gnusihcom @felixneverbadd @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn @midlike

╰┈➤Summary: After waking up to see changbin and Chan standing above the coffin. The house now being filled with celebration before having to leave. That's when chan had to explain what was to happen next and refusal wasn't an answer so he made sure Changbin stayed near despite felix being near. So y/n was now stuck with changbin, but not everything is horrible now is it?

Sitting in the now dark room was confusing to me. One moment I was slowly getting pulled out the coffin by Changbin, he was alone and told me not to think too much about everything. But my mind was racing, I had just killed my family, but it felt short lived, like I should have done more to make them feel pain but I can't do too much. But I still felt dizzy while trying to get used to everything once again, like trying to take my first steps but the last look I saw on Changbin's face was like he knew I wouldn't have made it. Making me think of what Chan had said when I woke up in that pile. But when I woke back up, the room was dark. And everything felt stiff. But I kept my head up high and moved out of the bed. I rocked just to make sure I was awake before sitting up. Holding the edges of the bed felt like something was burning, looking down I see I was burning the bed when trying to keep myself steady. I didn't want to fall, but I needed to keep myself steady before standing up. I wonder if this is how new demons felt when they woke up for the first time. Trying to get a grasp on things once again only to feel like they had to start all over again.

The fire was spreading, but I felt at home in it. Like it was giving me energy, like I could do anything if I put my mind to it long enough. With one forceful push I stood up, but I could feel the surrounding fire bursting higher, making a loud whoosh sound behind me while I kept myself steady on the ground. Focusing on my breathing I looked at the door, my eyes now adjusting to the darkness, like I could see everything despite no lights being on. But then my ears got filled with sounds, I could hear people still chatting as if they were questioning things. Maybe questioning if I was going to wake up still or if this entire thing was a waste of time. Trying to focus on one thing, I heard footsteps coming closer while I tried to walk to the door. Trying so hard to get the ringing over with because it was messing with my head by the time I heard the door open. Looking over with a quick head turn, I saw someone’s outline. But after blinking a couple times, I could see it was changbin who seemed to be confused even. “Y/n? You.. woke up?” He sounded confused but also a bit…happy I think?

“Was I supposed to actually die or something?” I asked, I think sounding more annoyed than I already was. The ringing was getting to me but it died down slowly, fading into the background like everything else now that I could stand up more easily and just walk, nothing seemed to hurt anymore but I was used to the dark room, I can imagine the light's are still on downstairs and everything is loud as ever, but for now everything felt quiet. Like they were trying to listen in to the conversation just to see where it would go. “No, it usually takes longer than 30 minutes for a new demon to wake up but you woke up in just 10. The fastest one to wake up was I- the youngest who woke up in 15.” I could hear him getting closer, squinting my eyes to see him reaching his hands out to me, maybe to help me walk so I can understand things but I wasn't entirety too sure. “Is that why everything went quiet? Are they listening like I can hear them?”

He froze for a minute, almost like he wasn't thinking I wouldn't be able to hear things for now, maybe I wasn't supposed to but it just happened like nothing else was wrong. “You have a lot of things figured out given that you have had nothing demon related prior. can you see me in the dark?” “As if the lights were one but they aren't.” I could feel his touch while he lead me out of the room, walking to the door into the hallway. It felt like walking on a tip rope but it was still manageable. “Then the lights downstair might blind you for a while. I'll have to show you when the party is actually over.” “There's still more with this?” I thought that by now almost everyone would have left since I done the main show, maybe not to everyone's liking but just enough to keep them satisfied while they return to what they were doing any other day or even before this was all planned. What else was there for me to do? Show them I can barely walk and stand anything too bright as if I just woke up from a long sleep and the sun was now flashing in my eyes?

“Not a lot, it will show itself when we get downstairs.” Walking down the stairs seemed to somehow help with balance, but the room was still bright. But I could handle it even with the sounds piling back up like when you have headphones back on and everything is trying to play out at once. With there being very little what I can do but I handled it. Looking around everyone seemed to look at me with a curious look, like some were surprised to see that it was actually me, some wanted to see what else I could bring to the table, like watching a pawn slowly become more than a knight, but a queen. Though I do like the sound of that, I wasn't sure if it would be everything I'm thinking it would be from the start and I'm not sure if I want to push that, or rather if I have a choice if I don't want to push anything anymore. “Chan and Hongjoong are outside talking with hyunjin, I'll guide you there to make sure you don't fall.” I wanted to tell him no, that I could handle it since it felt like getting drunk when I was home alone. But this was more intense the way I get at home, but he stayed close while I walked.

Slowly getting the pop in my steps back felt like owning the stage again in its own way and that's what I liked to do when I would walk. Outside seemed to feel different somehow, like there was a pressing weight of tension waiting to see if anything would be different, but they weren't at the window spot I saw hongjoong at before getting here. Changbin took me to the garden that seemed to be private since no one else seemed to go back there without reason. It felt weird walking back there, but when we got further down, I saw hyunjin looking down while being tied up. His wings were being forced opened with chan having to stand to the side, his stance looked angry while someone else seemed to hold a sword that hongjoong was holding out to them. “Now what in the fuck is happening here?” I opened my mouth before changbin could, seeing hyunjin whip his head up to look at me, chan slowly looking over and relaxing. Hongjoong looked curious while the man with him, he seemed to look a little angry, but curious as well. “Oh thank you fucking flames you woke up.” Hyunjin looked more relived as his wings were able to now finally be lowered.

The robe vanishing from his hands while Chan moved closer to him. Helping him stand up while having a look that screamed worry, but I could see, no I could smell fear, something I don't think anyone else could smell. “Oh well, seonghwa you have an entire place to do cutting. Send the sword back home.” Hongjoong let out a small sigh, almost sounding disappointing while the taller man next to him let the sword vanish into flames before keeping his arms behind his back. Chan taking hyunjin away from the two, Hyunjin hissing while trying to move his wings since it seemed to have been painful being there in waiting for so long just to see if I was going to wake up or not. Hongjoong begun slowly walking over to me, that man staying behind him like he was waiting for another order, Changbin kept his arm over me, trying to keep me closer behind him while also making sure he looked as big as possible to keep the two of them far back as he could in this instance. “Alright alright, we won’t scare them too much come seonghwa, wooyoung still wants to make sure his best friend is still alive, then after that we can head home. I know you're itching to tear someone in half, aren't you?”

I watched them walk to the gates that came to the garden, hongjoong having a skip in each step while that taller man just kept walking. Looking back at the other two, Hyunjin stood up, his clothes still looked just fine, his hair being a mess, his eyes being wide while he was slowly calming down. Chan seemed to whisper things in his ear, making sure he was helping hyunjin calm down more before letting him go while me and changbin slowly got closer. I had questions; I wanted to ask so much but I knew the only person who had those answers would most likely be Chan, and he had his hands full and I knew better than to mess with someone trying to keep someone they see as family. Slowly looking over, even changbin looked worried as he got closer, trying to make sure he really was fine before we would've had to returned. But Hyunjin slowly stood up, shaking the hair out of his face before rolling his shoulders. Like this was just another day, and he was getting through it. Cracking his neck some while letting out a relaxed sigh before looking at all three of us, but focusing back to me. “All of this will be explained after we make a talk for the others alright? Don't worry about me till afterwards if I don't start jumping around.”

The moment he started walking, Changbin went after him. Watching him he wrapped his hands around Hyunjin while the two were walking to the gates to join the others while I turned to Chan. He slipped on his mask to cover his mouth, but I could still se his eyes despite how hard his expression looked. “So, I take it he's not really the best friend or brother?” I wanted to break the silence, he didn't seem like he wanted to move, that making himself move would take more energy than not. So I slowly got closer, remembering that this is someone who the others respect and that I'm now tied to. He looked at me, almost like he didn't want to answer but I didn't stop staring at him. Wanting to see if there was anything I could do despite how late I felt like I was. What would’ve happened if I too late, would I have been killed out of anger, anyway? I mean I would've done that in his shoes, probably make it show just because one of my closest friends got hurt. Watching him, he slowly let out a breath before getting tensed back up again. “He’s technically my brother, since our sections are close. But he likes to make bets, not just deals. And if he gets his way, he makes it brutal. The last thing he cut from my crew, it was the youngest tongue and I was too late to get to him because of a trap. It took him years to grow it back and feel comfortable talking to him, or even anyone again. If you didn't wake up, he would've lost his wings in a slow way that takes years to grow back. And hyunjin adores his wings, it would've taken him decades before he grew them back, maybe longer or shorter to forgive you.”

He didn’t look at me, but I have to remember something, these guys aren't just demon’s but Sin's, by the looks of it. “I would've let him torture me till he thought it was enough. Might not replace the pain, but I didn't think I fell back asleep after everything. What happened?”

“You climbed out of the coffin but everything was awakening at once. You were practically trembling while trying to get yourself together but it was taking such a toll that before anyone else reacted. You just screamed, if anything you shook the ground and broke the windows, making the guards even fall to their knees along with some demons. You almost made Hongjoong kneel, he was pissed so many people saw that but when you stopped, you just fell. You didn't move, didn't tremble and didn't even shake like most. But you just laid there till we got you inside.”

He sounded more impressed while staring at me while I was confused; I caused that much damage? I had a feeling that everyone here could handle things, but was my scream that bad? Did anyone else from the outside even hear that? “Changbin told me that for me to stand up and already see in the dark and hear everyone was advanced for me is it, really?” “Yes. Most panic because everything is dark, they can't see or hear anything and assume they're dead and panic till they slowly hear someone.” it made me curious, what else was I able to do if someone was there to help? Would I have to figure things out for myself? Well I doubt that, with how many boys in this group someone would end up teaching me about something's before letting me figure things that fit myself. But the question is who would bother with that? Since I haven't met, everyone yet still but clearly things happened and it was slightly rushed since some of them haven't really met me yet and tonight was more of a first- or well second impression of me.

“What happens when we get back?” Without saying a word, we walked back to the main place, he was silent still but as we got closer, I saw the others standing in the middle of the large living room, hyunjin showing off his wings as happy as he could while looking at us. I felt weird now, the eyes were on me and I could hear the whispers more, looking around at people and seeing how they stopped talking. Changbin was right, I must really be surprising her people here after my last performance. One of them got closer, his face seemed more serious, his hair slightly covering his face while rolling his shoulders, slowly taking my hands into his while we stood closer. “Sorry we didn't get to meet before this, my name is Minho, but everyone else calls me Lee know. It’s a pleasure to actually talk to you.”

I wanted to say something, despite the smile he was giving me, one hand felt warm and the other one felt cold, it felt weird but I don't think I had time to ask a question, our attention was moved to the top of the staircase, Chan standing there like he was used to having to give speeches even after something happened, makes me wonder how many times he's had to do this, only at the end of it all just to go back home and let it out in his own way.

“Thank all of you for coming and helping all of us welcome a new demon into the world of hell. One that seems to hold more promise than some expected, I hope the next time any of us ever meet, you can see just how much things have changed in the years to come.” The cheers were loud, like they those loud random rings you'd sometimes get in your ears even when your note doing anything to get be getting them in the first place but I stayed put. Lee Know was keeping me closer while we all were looking at Chan, who was slowly looking around the room but not so much at us. He was keeping his head up high despite everything that could happen at this moment. I was still nervous, what if someone wanted to ruin this? Or was this just because I was so used to my family doing the same thing that now I’ve just accepted that it could happen anywhere else if I was present and someone wanted to embarrass me just for the fun of it?

But despite all of that it was like people were slowly glowing, like as if they were walking into a fire and this was now their time to say goodbye and plan more things. It made me curious as I watched some of them before looking down; it wasn't them that was being surrounded by fire; it was us. I wanted to scream, thinking I was going to burn but before I could even do that. I was Now standing in a garden; it was larger than the one hyunjin was in; the flowers were more different, but so was the air. It was hot, but I wasn't sweating it just had that feeling of it. But I also felt lighter, but that didn't erase the confusion I still had. The sky wasn't blue anymore; it was a bright red yet it looked like there would be stares in the sky, bringing a sense of white to the sky that was filled with the sounds of faint screaming and flames burning in the distance. I was in hell, the place they say where screams are never ending and no matter where you look there is nothing but torture, fire and screams.

I wanted to let out another scream, like something was wrong but then I felt a squeeze. Whipping my head around faster than I thought, I looked over to Lee know, his eyes now a dark red but he also just seemed more relaxed than he was a few moments ago. “Me and Changbin will explain everything, you burned my hand without thinking, probably assuming I was trying to keep you warm but then you burned the floor. Your abilities are free flowing and we needed to get you somewhere that wouldn't burn. But this helps, since you would've had to come here by the end of the night.” He explained, letting go of my hands to shake off some embers that fell to the ground and fix his tie. I felt embarrassed somehow, like how do I end up nearly burning someone and not realize I'm doing it? Wouldn't I just get hotter? “And don't worry about the screams, we figured it would be better to walk you to the main house instead of just appearing inside, this is just the front walkway. It also gives us time to explain things without overwhelming you. Since your abilities are going to be tied to your emotions, it's best not to get you overwhelmed for the time being.”

I looked around the place, more so taking in the flowers and the path. The flowers looked like they would never die, blowing in the wind despite their bright colors, they were letting off embers that flew away. It was like those large field scenes you see in movies where you just have to look around and slowly take it all in before you move. This is going to be part of me now, makes me wonder if the church people my mother wanted to impress ever thought I would be the one on the other side of the spear they claimed would endlessly kill me for my ways of living. I walked with the two; they stayed in front of me and let me walk on my own; I was happy since this meant I could mess with the flowers more on the walk there. But I was also making sure I was paying attention and wasn't getting too side tracked not to listen or anything in that nature.

“This is our section of hell, Chan calls this side Maniac since we have a larger number of those who aren't…truly there but always thought nothing would hurt them and they could get away with their actions. But since we all have our own smaller sections to run trough, you'll have lessons from each. Which was how it was supposed to go but Hyunjin and I brought up how confusing that would be. Sure you’d only see us in your dreams but that would've made things more confusing from the start, and we don't have time for that.” Lee know seemed like he had his speech planned out, knowing what to say and when so I didn't have as many questions as I would before we would return. “I have a question though.” “Ask it. We have time.” “It's about hongjoong and the ones with him, what about them?” I looked at the two of them, Changbin turning to Lee know as if he didn't know if my question needed to be answered. Maybe I should've waited, but him and the ones he's close with are going to be a problem, maybe even more so than I was thinking.

Lee Know gave a nod, like the two of them were going to o back and forth talking about everything and now it was changbin's turn to talk. “Hongjoong is more ruthless, our sections are close, but different. He's friendly which helps in his favor when he’s talking to people, some spill things to him he doesn’t need to know but nearly all demons know better than to give in with some words he says.” “The what about the one with pink hair? He seemed more deadly/” “you will hear this name a lot, but that one is Seonghwa, also known as his right-hand man and isn't scared to get dirty, and I mean covered in blood and guts, and would still walk like nothing were to happen. He's dangerous because Hongjoong got cocky for picking someone he wanted. Someone who wouldn't fear those in power, but even he struggles to keep Seonghwa in check because he fears no one. Despite most of us being considered being stronger, he would still fight and nearly kill any of us for fun. Which is why when you and me got to hyunjin I moved you behind me, knowing if Hongjoong leaned closer to you, Seonghwa would've launched thinking it was a sign to scare or attack you just to show you a glimpse of what you would do. But not even we know what you c5na do or how to stop it if you were wanted to protect yourself, which I imagine you would, and that would've made things a mess from the start.”

We stopped and the two of them turned to me, changbin looking worried while Lee know was trying to conceal something, maybe the same worried look but was waiting on me to process everything just so I can make sure I'm not going crazy or freaking about that but I was just trying to put pieces together. “So he took seonghwa when they were human and basically molded him-they- into what he wanted but he basically made a weapon that doesn't even listen to him?” “He wanted to show Chan that he could make even the most kindhearted of people into people who would toy with your emotions while torturing you, but he went so far with Seonghwa that them feeling pain is something even he can barely do, but over the eons seonghwa has toned down. But no one really wants to challenge him still since his moves and fighting are unpredictable despite him only being second in command to a demon lord.”

I could only listen at that, someone who could fight the others despite his own strength I could only look before taking the sight of the house now in front of me. It was like those large one story mansions that were more spread out inside of stacked into a well-thought out plan. At least no one ever misses out on their steps even for one day. Despite the surroundings, the place was a bright and pure white, like it was reflecting what people have lost when they have arrived, their innocence. Even stepping on a step, it was marble. I never seen something like this, it was polished, like someone had just gotten this done and had to make a run for it before they were to be caught by the rest of us. It was something interesting, but I still wanted to know what exactly was I supposed to do here. Besides learn other things, couldn't I do that at home? Without losing a job I worked so hard to enjoy?

“You will come here every day, since you need to get used to this and other things. Before your shows and days off, yes we are using those. Demon's don get days off to sit around there is always something to do. And since you need teachings Changbin is one of the best teachers we have for combat and such, fighting chan wouldn't go easy on you and it would piss you off, it does for everyone. Think of it like classes, expect some of them might not be fun at all and you will be very annoyed that it feels like you have no free time. But you need to understand, these are important so you aren't left with a million questions but hold them in so you can't express things and don't get hurt trying to figure it out. That is the main goal here, and it's going to sound like we're talking a lot with very little actions. But they are important.”

Lee know seemed to have this more practiced out than changbin was prepared for, I think his mind was still racing and he was now having to deal with me on top of things he was already doing and or worrying about before I got here and now things were about to get more chaotic. But I gave him a nod before trying to look inside the house like a curious cat, I wanted to see what was in there. What all would be in there before anything else and where would I go if I tried to stay here. How would that even work if I had tried to stay there? Would it be like entering a castle? Maybe one of those that are left crumbling and your just left to wonder what all happened here and how? The doors seemed locked shut and I don’t think either of them are going to be opening it just yet. But something still didn't feel right about anything. Like something was wrong, and no one was telling me and I needed to figure it out without saying so.

I took one step back from the large windows and tried to focus on my surroundings. What was I missing that felt like it was right in front of me? I moved my hand around and it felt like ripping through paper. It made my eyes widen, quickly turning around with my hand still out and seeing how fast everything was changing. I looked to see that Lee know was vanishing as if he were never here, his face never changing despite his body doing so. The surrounding field became nothing but burned grounds with fire crackling under. The house had disappeared from view and I was at the edge, like if I tried to open the door, I would've fallen into the flames just under me and that would’ve been it most likely. Moving back as fast as I could, I moved my hand down and looked around to see changbin. He had a more stern look while he watched me, like that one teacher that gave you a test and wanted to see if you would fail it or surpass his expectations. His face stayed cold as he raised his head up, arms stayed behind his back before slowly walking over.

The embers flying around from under his shoes as if they were bringing more light just so I could see his face more. His dark brown eyes changing from dark brown to red with each step till he got close enough but still leaving some room between us. “I was wondering if you would notice something before falling and actually dying this time.” How was I supposed to react to this exactly? I can't swing at him even if I wanted to, he looked more focus so any attack would've been pointless if I tried to. So I stood up straight, attempting to make myself look taller than I actually am despite him leaning down closer to me just to make sure our eyes stayed locked together. “What was all of that?” I tried to make my voice sound steady, watching a grin form on his face despite how innocent his face looked, head titled to the side like a cat just watching you do something in the corner knowing they can't talk to you.

“An Illusion. Well, minus the questions you asked about Seonghwa, those are real. But the house? You may be close but that is something you have to earn to see, it doesn't exactly look like that. It is true, you will be there, but you will be limited to the rooms needed for the day ahead before getting to see anything or anyone outside. Since we don't need you to be distracted for your studies and teachings.” His voice, it reminded me of honey, on the surface it was smooth and easily spread out, having a glow to it that made you want to focus on it but honey is sticky, if dried up it can even become to get out of no matter how much you try ti get out of it.

“So where are we exactly now?” “We're at the demon house, don't get me wrong. Just in one basement. This is where we fight and make sure you can tell when things feel wrong. Seonghwa is tricky and enjoys pushing new demons like you to the limit so he can kill you. Knowing hongjoong can barely keep up and would one day get surpassed if he isn't keeping up, but you need to stay strong and be able to tell when something is wrong.” Rolling his shoulders in his coat along with his neck, I watched it vanished even before he turned to look at me. His eyes having a dead look despite the redness in them, fire reflecting off of him like it was kissing him, but his arms showed a different story. Like they were ready to protect him or show off if they needed to and I needed to find a way to be prepared for what was about to come my way whether I wanted to.

The hard part of this is going to be fighting in heels, trying to stand my ground and making sure I don't get knocked off if he plans to throw attacks to me. But damn can I at least change first? I'm still in the outfit they gave me earlier at the party. I wonder if people are watching just to make sure I'm not just a pretty demon and that I'm actually having to do things. It makes me wonder about Seonghwa, the look in their eyes while they looked at hyunjin. like they were enjoying watching him slowly shake waiting for me. The way he didn't need to smirk or grin because his eyes showed it all. I don't know what it was, maybe me thinking about it and seeing how he looked up at me and Changbin when I finally said something. But when I finally blinked I was holding Changbin's hand, not in a loving way but as in me holding his fist, my eyes wide as I looked up at him but tried to keep the shock to myself.

His face stayed the same, but he raised a brow along with hearing a sizzle, it was his hand burning and mine getting hotter. But the color wasn't red like fire, it was black. With nothing there to bring any form of light into the flames, just a void that would move around flames would do. It made him pull away and look at his hand, there was a quick moment where he looked more surprised than me before keeping his face neutral once again, it made me wonder was that hurting him? I wanted to ask him a question, but something told me to duck, to get out of the way before he gets closer and I did. In doing so, I saw him appear with his hand like he was ready to grab me but I ducked down before he could, rolling over my outstretched leg and away from the edge. I turned to look at him; he looked more surprised, his head turns being slow. Like he was waiting to see if I would do anything else but I didn't know what I was doing or how even. I just had that feeling like if I didn't move, something would happen.

He said nothing for what felt like an hour, staring at me as if he were collecting his thoughts before he even thought about trying to say anything. But what could I do? “You're not doubting your instincts. But you move faster than you think you do. You're learning fast, but you also don't have a clue of how you're doing it.” I slowly stood up, looking at him while he slowly but fully turn to meet me. He sounded curious, maybe trying to see if anyone was trying to give warnings to his moves but how would they know what he was going to do? I highly doubt he does the same things repeatedly before trying to attack someone. It wouldn’t make any sense of him to do so. “Then again, given the things you’ve went though it makes sense you've learned to actually trust yourself quicker than others and then ask questions later just to be sure to see if it's even safe to do so. That's not a bad thing to do, in fact it even benefits you.” Holding his hand out, swirling flames around it like water, he created a spear, nothing too sharp but I can imagine nothing too dull either just to make sure I put effort into it.

Tossing it over to me, he did the same thing again and held one himself, dragging the sharp end across the ground while pacing slightly but his eyes never once leaving me. “What do you mean?” “Your used to being on your toes when you know the situation is tense, so if you need to pounce you can, if you need to run you run. But if you need to bite, you bite.” I wanted to relax, to put this weapon down and just ask how does he know these things about me when this is my first time talking to him, but he moved fast and attacked again, but this time spear in one hand with the other behind his back. Yet somehow the spear, no. Somehow I was stopping each movement, each time a hit was made, even if it was close and I didn't attack, it was still close and I was mainly trying to push him back, which was hard to do given his size and everything. I wasn't making progress, but one thing was clear to me, he was struggling to keep me in one spot since he was having to keep his eyes more focused on me and barely anything else.

I don't know how, but before he could strike once again, and he was moving quickly, but I kicked him back, causing him to stumble a bit before looking at me again. His shock showing more while I just stood there, spear in both my hands while I was trying to keep myself steady on the heels I was wearing because holy shit was that sharp. Maybe that was why he was surprised, because the heel was sharp and I used it to my advantage and kick him back so I can get some space between us and just overall keep him on his toes. This went on for what felt like hours, the weapons never changed the entire time but it was clear we were going until one of us felt tired or feel to our knees and couldn't get up. But it wasn't me, who was backing down, well no that's really a Lie. I was close to it despite changbin not using anything other than a spear and determination in his eyes.

I think I broke a heel at some point and kicked my shoes off but that was a dumb move, once I could actually feel the ground is when I wanted to give up, my feet were burning, the pain wasn't something I'd think would bother me but I haven't been near fire this close. But changbin being the man he is, he kept me distracted to the point I almost forgot about it till he made our spears vanish and picked me up off the ground. My feet now cooling off but the cool air was both relaxing and painful to feel but I didn't mind it. I could rest now and I was happy with it. I got to live out a dream of mine, being carried by a man with buff arms like a princess. “We went longer then I thought we would, you make this way more exciting than I thought would happen.” I wanted to tease him about it, but when I blinked we were back in my room after what felt like so long without being in here. I wanted to jump in joy because I missed my bed so much.

He slowly set me down, I turned to him with a smile and an offer. “Wanna stay for some food?” Within minutes, his serious Demeter had changed, and he was excited, his clothes changed from their serious all black to some fuzzy pj's while he ran me some shower water since I had a feeling I would fall asleep if I took a bath right now, but he was more than happy to help with cooking something to eat. I don't remember what we made, not because I was tired and felt like the day was driving me crazy, but because he was being silly and it was hard not to laugh and I didn't know if he was always like this or if was because I offered food and us to relax on my bed since that was the only place I wanted to be. I was just more than happy to be home after everything.

??? POV

200 years. It has been 200 years before another demon had come into the picture of everything here, the last demon that was here I ate slowly. Watching them lose their mind and didn't know who to trust despite being warned so many times. Falling for my lies and charm like it was a spider web they just couldn't see it, despite the screams of other bugs warning them. But they were always sweet to eat, finally so broken they had no fight left in them despite having no soul, but still. Eating them was amazing, but this one…y/n… the first one in such long showing up. I almost wanted to laugh when I heard about that stupid party. I didn't want to go, but I had to out of respect and so I went, I smelled him the moment he walked out of the car and got close enough to us. Sure they were handsome, but I was used to seeing handsome men around and most I couldn't touch so what was the use? Them killing their family was boring, there wasn't any flare to it, just stabbing and them passing out. But when they tried to get closer, I wanted to be a tease and act like I was going to kill him, but that scream…

That power, that feeling was something that shocked me, they fell back asleep and I wanted to eat hyunjin's wings just to watch him try so hard to stay confident with no wings to show off. It was something I always thought of doing, but he came back, he looked pissed and I wanted to laugh at it, but I didn’t And then watching him fight, it almost was cut too short before they were fighting changbin like he wasn't so much stronger and taller than him. But he made it worth the watch, the way they moved, jumped around and simply just pushed him back was enough to keep me interested. Mostly those who touch the grounds give up because the pain is too much but y/n had a point to prove clearly. I like you y/n. I want to eat you after you've been broken beyond saving.

[maykop1010]

Ah, so we’re playing the ‘it’s bad, but not that bad’ game? Ethnic cleansing is a recognized crime against humanity. Downplaying it as though it’s a lesser evil is a cop-out and a lazy, fucking disgusting one at that. Also, the UN definition of genocide includes acts intended to destroy a group in whole or in part. Systematic destruction of homes, denial of basic rights, forced displacement.

Right, because Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and the UN have all never been accused of antisemitism when they release reports critical of Israel. Major NGOs face relentless backlash for calling out Israeli policies, my goodness UNICEF and Save the Children are routinely accused of antisemitism for raising valid concerns about children starving and freezing to death and displaced people getting bombed in fucking tents.

Criticizing state violence isn’t antisemitism. Pointing out human rights abuses by a government isn’t antisemitism. If you’re this eager to conflate Israel with all Jewish people, perhaps it’s you who needs to reflect on the dangers of that association. The weaponization of antisemitism to shut down any criticism of Israel does a disservice to the actual fight against antisemitism.

Funny how every time someone criticizes Israeli policy, you leap straight to calling them antisemitic. That is when you’re not calling them cunts, Nazis, calling Palestinian suffering “pallywood” referring to Palestinians and their supporters as terrorists, cockroaches, Amalek, animals, and beasts.

Your entire response is a masterclass in bad faith deflection, minimizing atrocities, and accusing critics of antisemitism. Here’s the truth: You’re more concerned with protecting Israel’s image than acknowledging the reality of its actions and atrocities.

Honestly, I’ve already wasted too much brain power on a cretin who thinks ethnic cleansing “isn’t that bad” and regurgitates the same tired-ass, bad-faith talking points. Spin it however you want in that clearly deranged mind of yours, but the reality is painfully obvious: you support what’s happening to Palestinians. You’ve proven it by your pathetic refusal to hold Israel’s government accountable for decades of human rights abuses.

At the end of the day, you don’t give a damn about babies freezing to death, the over 1 million people displaced, or the 2.1 million starving under siege. You brush it all off because it’s easier to play the antisemitism card than to confront the genocide in Gaza and the brutality of the apartheid policies in the West Bank and Jerusalem, policies upheld by the very government you continue to defend.

"This is much worse than apartheid. The Israeli measures, the brutality, make apartheid look like a picnic. We never had jets attacking our townships. We never had sieges that lasted month after month. We never had tanks destroying houses. We had armoured vehicles and police using small arms to shoot people but not on this scale." Ronnie Kasrils, Jewish South African activist, former member of the African National Congress

"The state of Israel practices its own, quite violent, form of apartheid with the native Palestinian population." Shulamit Aloni, former Israeli Education Minister

"I have witnessed the systemic humiliation of Palestinian men, women and children by members of the Israeli security forces. I... Their humiliation is familiar to all black South Africans who were corralled and harassed and insulted and assaulted by the security forces of the [South African] apartheid government." Bishop Desmond Tutu

In May 2021, Michael Lynk, then UN Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the occupied Palestinian territories, stated: “There is a credible case to be made that Israel’s conduct amounts to the crime of apartheid and potentially genocide, as defined under international law.”

Richard Falk (former UN Special Rapporteur) argued that Israel’s blockade and repeated military campaigns in Gaza meet the legal criteria for genocide.

Francis Boyle, a professor of international law who worked on the Bosnian genocide case, accused Israel of committing genocide in Gaza, saying: “Israel’s policies in Gaza are a textbook case of genocide. The intent to destroy a national group can be seen in the siege, starvation, and repeated mass killings.”

The Center for Constitutional Rights (CCR), a U.S.-based legal organization, has raised concerns that Israel’s actions in Gaza and the West Bank meet the criteria for genocide under international law. They have cited the deliberate targeting of civilians, the siege of Gaza, and the intent to destroy Palestinian society as key factors.

Dr. John Dugard, a South African legal scholar and former UN Special Rapporteur, has drawn parallels between apartheid South Africa and Israel’s policies toward Palestinians. He has warned that Israel’s actions could amount to genocide. In his report to the UN, Dugard stated: “There is a serious risk of genocide in the occupied Palestinian territories. The destruction of homes, the killing of civilians, and the deliberate targeting of essential infrastructure are consistent with the crime of genocide.”

Eyal Weizman, director of Forensic Architecture and a professor at Goldsmiths, University of London, has conducted forensic investigations into Israeli military operations. His work has been used by human rights organizations to document genocidal practices in Gaza. Weizman stated: “The destruction of entire neighborhoods, the targeting of civilians, and the systematic denial of essential services constitute collective punishment with genocidal intent.”

Dr. Gregory Stanton, a prominent genocide scholar and founder of Genocide Watch, is known for developing the “Ten Stages of Genocide” model. He has repeatedly warned that Israel’s actions toward Palestinians are following the path of genocide. In a 2021 statement, Stanton said: “The systematic dehumanization of Palestinians, combined with the destruction of their homes and infrastructure, is consistent with the early stages of genocide.”

Raz Segal, an Israeli historian specializing in Holocaust and genocide studies, has explicitly accused Israel of genocide. In a 2023 interview, Segal stated: “What we see in Gaza is a genocidal campaign. The dehumanization of Palestinians, combined with indiscriminate killing and the destruction of their society, fits the definition of genocide under international law.”

Richard Rubenstein, a scholar of conflict resolution and genocide, has warned that Israel’s occupation policies exhibit genocidal intent. Rubenstein has drawn comparisons between Israeli policies and other colonial genocides, stating: “The denial of human rights, the destruction of livelihoods, and the mass killing of civilians are steps toward genocide.”

You don’t care about human rights. You care about protecting a narrative. That much is clear.

But keep spiraling. :-)

The right hates Jews because the right are bigots. The left hates Jews because Jews are bigots!!!

Seriously Jews, it’s you. It’s not us it’s you!! Y’all treat all us “goyim” like trash and then act surprised when we don’t want to be around you. Then you commit a genocide against the Palestinians and act like the victims when people protest it!!

JEWS!!! IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO UNPACK YOUR BIGOTRIES!!!

[encrucijada]

3 new possible additions to my aroace girls cinematic universe (that needs a better name) 🫶

[violetstrations]

[ID: two digital paintings of Nijisanji-EN'S Ver Vermillion and Cer Cerulean. The first takes place inside a forest during the day. They are both noticeably young. Cer sits on the left side of a log as he adjusts Ver's long hair, who is sitting on the ground in front of Cer, holding his knees to his chest. The artist's watermark is to the left of them. The second takes place long after the first one. The sun is setting. Ver curls into himself on the right side of the log, with a knife by his left. On the other end of the log is his red necklace, glowing. Surrounding him are chopped-off locks of his hair. The artist's watermark is by the necklace. End ID]

bundle up darling, you've made this bed, now

sleep in it soundly if you can

[love-songs-for-emma]

i was on zillow today, fantasizing about being able to live somewhere, when i came across the listing for my childhood home. it wasn't active/being sold, but it was on there with some pics of the interior. and my GOD. THEY MADE HER UGLY. THEY TOOK HER RUSTIC PUSSY OUT. WHAT THE FUCK

[kurthorton-moving]

feeling very 🧍‍♂️ may not be around for a bit

[coloursofaparadox]

i ✨️cannot sleep✨️ and vaguing about shit on the internet feels more cathartic than writing it out somewhere else. suffer.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.

[annmariethrush]

I love the concept that Viktor ends up with Jayce’s last name through some originally non-romantic means so much that I have multiple versions.

Jayce accidentally gives Viktor his last name by being so insistent on putting Viktor’s name first in every circumstance. When he’s listing their names on anything he puts them down as “Viktor and Jayce Talis”. When he introduces them to people he says “Nice to meet you, this is Viktor and I’m Jayce Talis” with a pause before Talis because he always forgets that he should say his house name too. Viktor slowly starts to notice that they’re referred to in the tabloids as “the Talises” and that higher ups at the academy will introduce him to investors as “Viktor Talis” without Jayce even being there.

When they first start working together, they put their initials next to things in their shared notes to mark when they have questions or agree with something the other wrote, or to differentiate when someone is dictating while the other talks. In an effort to not have it confused with a variable, Viktor initials VT (VikTor) as a bit of a joke to look similar to Jayce’s JT. However, one day when Heimerdinger is looking over their notes, he marks out a question in the margin for Viktor with “Viktor Talis” written out next to it in full. Viktor and Jayce debate for a moment after he leaves if it was supposed to mean it was for both of them, but the contents of the question makes it entirely clear that Heimerdinger things VT stands for Viktor Talis and has accepted that Viktor has adopted Jayce’s last name with no questions.

At the beginning of Hextech, as they are trying to get investors, Viktor regularly gets identified as being from the undercity and harassed for it by wealthy Pilties when he tells them his name is “just Viktor” when asked what house he is from. So one day Jayce suggests just telling investors that his last name is also Talis, thinking that people will assume they are brothers. Viktor gets flustered and tries to politely decline, but Jayce seems to confident that he lets it happen. It takes him weeks to figure out that Jayce doesn’t realize that everyone thinks they’ve gotten married or plan to. Viktor doesn’t have the heart to tell him and won’t let Mel break the illusion.

Jayce takes Viktor on a tour of the forge and when he gets done takes a hammer to jokingly knight him and dub him “officially part of house Talis” Jayce thinks nothing of it until the next time they meet someone new together when he almost spits out his drink hearing Viktor introduce himself as “Viktor Talis”

Some investor that they fucking hate can’t keep their names straight for some reason but always sees Jayce wearing his house sigil so he says “ah, Viktor Talis” every time he sees Jayce. They find it so fucking funny that even just saying “Viktor Talis” sends them into uncontrollable laughter.

Ximena refers to them exclusively as “my boys” to the point that most people who met her after Hextech was founded assume that she has two sons, Jayce Talis and Viktor Talis. She doesn’t feel the need to correct them as she does truly love them both as her children and is also quietly hoping one day Jayce will get his head out of his ass and ask Viktor out on a date.

[ceilidho]

sundog

prompt: Simon comes across a girl when she's recently been evicted and takes her back to his place, despite her reservations (nsfw, 8.5k) [based on this old post] [on ao3 here]

-

The circumstances of your life change so abruptly that you lose sight of it for a moment. 

Then, you’re out on the streets with the clothes on your back and a suitcase packed so full that a sweater sleeve sticks out where the zippers meet. The locks to your apartment have already been changed. You know because you tried them anyway, desperately hoping that the eviction notice taped to your door might have been misplaced.

Evidently not. The keys don’t work. You contemplate chucking them on the walk out, but instead you keep them close like a talisman of protection, though it’s failed to live up to its purpose so far. 

You’ve got it under control for a day. If by ‘under control’, you mean experiencing a full body panic attack in the locker room of the twenty-four hour gym down the street from your old apartment. The staff gives you uncomfortable looks when you come in on the verge of tears with your suitcase rolling behind you, but they let you in because your membership is up to date. If you can count on anything in life, it’s consumerism. 

That doesn’t last long though, mainly because a locker and a wood bench won’t cut it in the long term. You sleep in the back of the local library until a stern-faced, if pitying, librarian threatens to call the cops on you. Pity isn’t sympathy, evidently. 

Gym management threatens to cut the lock on the locker you’ve been using as temporary storage space. Matter of fact, they say, you can’t be using the locker room as your quasi apartment between the hours of nine P.M. and seven A.M. just because everything else in the city is closed. Go home, they say. 

What home, you don’t say, before packing up your things and heading out on your way. 

If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s capitalism. 

You didn’t think this kind of thing could happen to someone like you. Someone like you being an ordinary person. Homelessness always felt like a far away concept. But the world is cruel and life is brutal. What you didn’t realize before was that, at any moment in time, you’ve been closer to poverty than wealth, and here you are now, sitting in the park with your suitcase between your legs, the sun rapidly setting behind you, your phone at ten percent battery, and nowhere to go because your family is, frankly, nonexistent, and your friends, for lack of a better word, have almost entirely washed their hands of you.

Sorry, they’d say, the frown emoji expressing something like pity at a distance. We don’t have a couch to spare. 

I can sleep on the floor, you’d texted back. They’d gotten cagey after that. People like to be wanted only to a certain extent.

You can feel the panic rise up in you, too big to contain. It comes out in the form of blubbering tears and snot running from your nose. Big, hiccuping sobs. It’s not pretty. Passersby avert their eyes for the most part, save for the ones that eye you with something bordering on perverse delight and that’s what finally makes you get up and speed walk away, lest they feel compelled to approach you. 

But even in the tailwinds of summer, it gets cold outside at night. Worst of all, as the evening grows dark, the streets empty out until you can’t help but feel like a beacon with your little rolling suitcase. It clatters against the sidewalk as you try to hoof it down the street, looking for any shop still open to loiter in. Most close after nine though. You’ve googled homeless shelters, but the sheer anxiety keeps you floundering around up and down the streets instead.

It feels beyond helpless. You’re in a state like you’ve never been before, crying under a streetlamp because you needed a moment just to get your bearings. 

What you know now is that this world is a house of false bottoms. You thought the circumstances of your life could never change. You were never well to do, but you were doing well. The sight of the unhoused sitting with their backs to the brick and mortar stores on your walk home or congregated in a park in the middle of the city with their tents and shopping carts used to fill you with immeasurable pity, maybe even a quiet moment’s reflection; now, you see them as kin. 

Easy, isn’t it? To slip between states. To go from solid to liquid to gaseous. Easier than you ever could have expected. 

When it starts to rain, you almost close your eyes in relief. Anyone could’ve predicted this. 

You almost don’t respond to him at first, keeping your eyes trained on the sidewalk to avoid any bumps. Also, it never pays to look up at a man barking at you, especially not when he’s barking something like, Girl or Bird, turn around. 

Then he says it again, closer this time, and you’re forced to look up, if only to see who’s approaching you. Your suspicion melts away to distrust at the sight of the man stalking towards you. Distrust with a touch of trepidation—maybe outright alarm. Surely no man his size wearing a balaclava tucked into a hoodie straining around his arms would have innocent designs on you. 

He’s one of the bigger men you’ve ever come across. You look across the street to see if there’s a bar missing its bouncer, but all the shop fronts are dark like the ones on your side. 

You don’t bolt at the sight of him, but it’s a near thing. He appears from nowhere, and yet there’s nowhere for him to hide. Not with the size and breadth of him damn near taking up the whole sidewalk. His demeanour and stride evoke such a sense of authority that at first you mistake him for a plainclothes man, and wouldn’t that be just the icing on the shit cake of a week you’ve been experiencing. But something about him says otherwise. 

“Plan on catchin’ your death out here?” he asks, and you shiver. Not from the cold, but from the sound of his voice. 

You’re not used to talking to strangers. A month ago, you would’ve ignored the man lambasting you for being out in the rain; maybe crossed the street and hailed a cab instead. You don’t have those kinds of options anymore. The only thing left in your repertoire is to shout back. 

“I’ve got mace!” you yell out, your voice a hoarse rattle carved out from hours spent crying. 

“That’ll do ya fuck all out here,” he says, a touch condescendingly. “You lost or somethin’?”

“I’m not lost,” you sniff, rubbing the snot away from your nose with the end of your sleeve.

“Then get home instead of roamin’ the streets. You’re askin’ to get snatched up, bird.”

The threat of that has been lingering in your head these past few days, even stretching back to the very first moment that you noticed the sign on your door, but now it has its intended effect. You shake. 

“I can’t,” you whisper.

“Bloody hell,” he sighs. “Why the fuck not? Need someone to call you a cab?”

“I got evicted. I don’t have a home,” you say, and sniffle when your nose leaks again. Saying it outloud brings tears to your eyes again, a pressure building behind your orbital sockets and down to the tip of your nose. 

You must look like the saddest thing in the world standing there in the rain under the dim light of the streetlamp, the pole looped with graffiti and old gum. When the man berating you for being out in it takes a step forward, coming into the light, you can finally make out the bored depths of his eyes. A deep brown. Entirely unimpressed with the picture in front of him, maybe even a bit peeved. 

Your socks are wet and your shoes squelch when you take a step back. You pull the sheer sweater tighter around your frame, but it does nothing to protect you from the damp, frigid air. 

“You been out here long?” he asks, taking another step closer. Not tentatively either. His gaze sweeps over you proprietarily, taking stock; his arrogance comes as an afterthought. He’s not rubbing it in your face that he can do whatever he likes—he just does. 

You wheel your suitcase around in front of you to put something between the two of you. “…Just today. The gym kicked me out.”

You sound petulant, words chewed between your lips and teeth; begrudgingly admitting to the various pitfalls of your existence. All the bad luck. It’s shameful to admit to losing complete control of your life. 

“Haven’t ya got any family, girl? Friends? What’re they letting a girl like you stay out on the streets for?”

You could be sick on the pavement. “…That’s none of your business.”

His eyes go flat at that, unimpressed. “You always this nasty to people tryin’ to help?”

And you’re not. That’s the part that grates the most. You’re all soft underbelly; no bark, no bite. It’s inconceivable that this could’ve happened to you—inconceivable because your head is filled with false promises and mythologies. The myth of exceptionalism. This happens to other people. Not good girls that go to college and get their degrees and find a stable job. 

They’ve pulled the rug out from under you so fast that you haven’t even toppled over yet. That’s how quick it all happened. 

“What help are you?” The bite comes out of nowhere, fueled by bitter humiliation and resentment for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. “Are you gonna put me up in a hotel?”

“Think I’m made of money, bird?” he asks rhetorically. 

“You’ve probably got more than I have.” 

Now you’re weepy again at the thought. Down to your last hundred dollars and you’re in between jobs at the moment. It might’ve been easier to haul yourself out of poverty if applying for jobs didn’t require a mailing address. That’ll be your first priority once you find a place to live. But conversely, how are you meant to find housing with no proof of income? Landlords laugh in your face before slamming the door shut. The conversations are circular, but they always come to a grinding halt; that’s the only thing you’ve learned to expect. 

The worst part of this whole conversation is that it doesn’t follow any of the scripts you’ve previously memorized. When have you ever had to deal with a man interrogating you about your place of residence? It makes no sense. 

It’s inconceivable to imagine that this is happening to you, but it is. Life comes at you hard, with a razor’s edge. Sharp enough to cut, to lacerate. 

“You need a place to stay,” he states bluntly. 

“It’s fine. I’ll—I’ll find something.” 

“You could come home with me.” He says it so bluntly that for a moment all you can do is blink. Surely you misheard him. Surely a man of his size and breadth, dark mask obscuring his face, wouldn’t be daft enough to ask a woman he found on the street to come home with him.

The offer, as well-intentioned as you hope it is, puts you on edge. “No, that’s…that’s alright. I don’t want to…put you out. I was going to look up nearby shelters.”

“Shelters’ll all be full this time of night,” he says. “Never been on the streets?”

You clenched your teeth, nerves starting to get the better of you. 

“I can go to a church,” you say, voice terse now, frayed with nerves. 

He snorts. “Haven’t been to one in a long time, but pretty sure those close too, pet. It’s late.”

You sway on your feet, the suitcase at your side the only thing keeping your knees from buckling. Dead ends everywhere you turn. You’ve always thought of yourself as resourceful; that if push came to shove, you’d figure your way out of any sticky situation. That smacks of arrogance now. All your suppositions are dissolving right in front of you, your own self-image along with it. 

A heavy foot stepping into a puddle brings you back to focus. The masked man is closer now, within arm’s reach. Your heart jumps into your throat. He towers over you, monolith man; big as a sequoia, or other deadland creatures that vanish out of sight when you catch a shadow out of the corner of your eye and whirl around to look it dead on. 

“I can’t go home with a stranger.”

You know you’re not supposed to put your faith in strange men. Bad things happen to girls that go around trusting any man that offers up their help. 

The fist in your chest loosens infinitesimally when the man reaches up to pull the mask off his head. He’s every inch the brute you imagined in your head—blunt chin and crooked nose, a nasty scar running up his lip. There are scars all over his face, in fact—bisecting his left eyebrow and down his cheek. The blond hair on his head is slightly grown out, like he’s used to keeping it neat and tight but it’s been awhile since his head has seen a razor. His beard grows in a bit patchy, the burnish gold of a five o’clock shadow.

You frown. “Is that supposed to make me trust you?”

“Well, now we’re not strangers, are we?”

“That doesn’t—that doesn’t change anything! I still don’t know you.”

He shrugs. Takes a step back. “Suit yourself then. No skin off my ass.”

Your stomach roils, anxiety coming back with a vengeance. You hadn’t noticed it recede since the man started talking to you, but you notice its return. When he makes a move to turn back around, you lurch forward, your hand extending out and fisting in the side of his shirt. He pauses, then looks down at you. 

“…Where else am I supposed to go?” you whisper.

He tilts his head. “Could sleep on a bench in the park.”

You glare at him through tear-soaked eyes. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be. You’re shit out of other options at this time of night.”

“So, what? Now it’s-it’s my fault or something?”  

His eyes don’t exactly soften, but they lose their hard edge. 

“I’m not gonna ask twice,” he says. Not cautioning you, just stating a fact. “You coming or not?”

Disaster seems like a given at this point. At least you could pick your poison. 

Words are beyond you though, so you just bite your lip and nod, eyes downcast now. 

What else is there for you to do but follow him after that? You trail along after him like a sad, wet cat left out in the rain. 

He finds her wandering the streets with her pretty little suitcase rolling over every bump and crack in the sidewalk and there’s no fighting the urge to drag her home. 

She doesn’t look like a runaway. Just a poor thing down on her luck. Her cheeks practically glisten with her tears when she looks up at him with her big, pathetic eyes, and it makes his cock plump up against his thigh. 

That’s not what this is about though. Simon presses his hand against his dick to rub out some of the ache while she flutters around the bedroom and reminds himself of that again. He didn’t take her home to maul her like a dog. He dragged her back to his flat because she looked wounded and scared out of her wits. 

He can be good every now and then. 

“Sit down, will ya?” he grunts, tugging her down onto the couch when she flits across the room to grab more of her shit out of her suitcase, glancing down at him apprehensively on her way by. She yelps when he sends her sprawling onto the couch. 

His flat isn’t much. A one-bedroom above a laundromat; eggshell walls and torn up baseboards because he hasn’t gotten around to fixing the place up. It’s better than sleeping on the streets though, he knows that much. 

Simon’s no stranger to that; if being in the military taught him anything, it was how to survive regardless of circumstances. In the weeks after his medical discharge—his knees beyond busted, basically bone on bone, and even these days, though he works more to have something to do than to earn a living, they still scream at him when he puts too much weight on them—he wandered aimlessly for a bit, crashing on Gaz’s couch for a bit and sleeping on benches for a spell after that before finding his footing again. 

Simon ignores the way that she yaps at him though, used to tuning people out. He flicks on the television and flips to a show that looks vaguely entertaining before getting up and ambling over to the kitchen. 

“D-do you want me to help?” she asks from the kitchen, tripping over her words in her haste to get them out. 

She reeks of the need to please. Desperate; cloying, sickly sweet like flowering dracaena. It clings to her like a perfume, silk-wrapped and packaged just for him. It could give a man like him indecent thoughts. His thoughts already tend towards the impure. 

He must eye her like a ravenous animal because she flinches suddenly under his gaze, eyes flicking away nervously before meeting his again. Good girl, Simon wants to say. Eyes on me. 

“Sit down,” he barks instead, and relishes in the way she sits back down with her hands tucked under her thighs. 

She’s really a pretty little thing. A shame that he found her out wandering in the rain, out where any man with worse intentions could have stumbled across her. The thought alone could drive him to violence. Again he stares at the back of her head and the slope of her shoulders, evaluating. His bloodlust dulls to a simmer. It pounds in his ears like a dull drum, but at least now he can hear again. 

Anyone else could have found her first, but they didn’t. He did. That tempers the homicidal impulse thrumming in his blood. She’s in his flat now, freshly showered and skin still damp. When she looks over her shoulder, it’s him she sees. 

Poor bird with her clipped wings. She’s not in danger of flying off anytime soon. The thought placates him. Tucked away in his cage, he doesn’t have to rend anyone limb from limb.

It’s been years since he traded in his fatigues for a hi vis jumpsuit, but some days he misses it so acutely that his hands shake and his vision fades in and out. This is one of those days. He toys with the idea of reaching out to Price in the morning to learn more about her, but then discards the idea. Better if it comes straight from her.

Besides, he doesn’t like asking for favours anyway.

“Name’s Simon, by the way,” he grunts, nostrils flaring when he sees her flinch at the sound of his voice. “Riley.”

“Oh,” is all she says. He waits a beat.

“Gonna give me your name, bird?”

She does, voice squeaky like it’s said under duress. That pisses him off more. 

He's not much of a cook, but he can whip up something quick, so he tosses one of his frozen meals into the microwave and sits her in front of the TV while she shivers and shakes on the couch.

They eat in silence, the TV on in the background. It’s the only noise besides the soft sound of her chewing. Simon can tell she’s gone hungry in recent days by the voracious way she eats, unable to keep herself from shovelling the food into her mouth. She seems almost embarrassed by it after swallowing her last bite, looking over at him from the corner of her eye like a guilty dog. He ignores it, keeping his eyes on the TV instead.

He can tell she wants to say something. A shit childhood and two decades in the military have left him with the ability to sniff out tension, and it comes off her in waves. After putting her plate on the coffee table, she sits back against the couch and squeezes her fists over her lap. Gnaws her lip and casts furtive glances in his direction. When the tears build up on her waterline, his cock twitches. 

“What?” he barks after the umpteenth sniffle, twisting to face her. 

“I—um—I just wanted to say thank you,” she whispers, her head still tilted downward, trying to make herself small enough to go unnoticed. 

Simon stares down at her, unblinking. He half wishes she’d cry a little more, just a few tears to soothe the beast in his chest. It’s better for her that her eyes remain dry. He doesn’t think he could hold himself back if one slipped down her cheek right now. He’d have to grab her by the nape of her neck and twist her over the side of the couch, shove down both their drawers and feed his cock into the warm, wet slot between her legs. Pummel her little cunt until his spend leaks out in thick, viscous globs, until her thighs shake so violently that only his hands on her shoulders and his shaft shoved deep in her pussy keeps her upright. 

He can almost smell it from between her legs, throbbing with gratefulness. He stares down unabashedly at the spot between her legs. Let her say something about it. 

“Don’t mention it,” he says instead, tilting his head when her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. “‘Was nothing.”

“No, it was really nice of you,” she insists, speaking more forcefully after gathering up some of her courage. “What if I…—you took a stranger into your house.”

That gets the blood pumping. “Gonna gut me while I sleep, pet?”

It’s half deranged that his cock chubs up in his jeans at the thought of his little bird with a knife in her hands, hands dripping with wet, dark blood. He shifts, readjusting himself so the metal teeth of his zipper don’t bite into his dick. 

She frowns. Endearing. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Not really good at looking after yourself, are you?”

“I am—it’s just…” tears build up on her waterline again, “it was one thing after another. I couldn’t get it all together.”

Pity isn’t an emotion he’s accustomed to feeling. Simon’s not even sure if that’s what he’s feeling now. It’s more like the bastard child of pity. 

He lets her off to bed with a warning not to fuck with anything in his room. She skitters off quickly after that. Her cute little ass follows her into the room until she shuts the door behind her, hiding it from view. He huffs. Being good never gets him anywhere.

He lets her run away though because he can’t tarnish everything he touches. Some things deserve to stay polished. 

Instead, he brushes his teeth and washes the last of the dishes before turning in as well, getting a clean sheet out of the linen closet to drape over himself. The couch isn’t nearly long enough for him to stretch out on, not like the king sized bed in his room; there’s already a spring poking him right in the middle of his back.

Sleep won’t come easy tonight. 

Simon wakes up on the couch with a kink in his neck. He lays there for several minutes gritting his teeth until the worst of it passes. When he sits up, his back cracks and pops, joints loosening only reluctantly. His age is getting away from him again; the wear and tear on his body finally starting to catch up. There’s only so much abuse he can put himself through. 

The morning races on outside his front door and he has work to get to, but his body orients towards the closed door of his bedroom almost without his say. It creaks as it swings open. 

In the slowly dimming haze of sleep, he must have subconsciously thought he dreamt the night before because seeing the girl from yesterday curled up in his bed halts him in his tracks. Her suitcase is open on the floor beside the bed. She must have changed into her pyjamas after slinking away last night because he doesn’t recognize the little cotton shorts hugging the swell of her ass and the shirt riding up over her belly button. 

Despite the perfunctory morning jerk he gave himself just ten minutes prior, his cock twitches in his work pants, gaze locked on the underside of her ass, the flesh peeking out from beneath her sleep shorts. 

The hunger ebbs out of a deep, cavernous hole in him. A heavy, oppressive heat; lust so gnarled and twisted that he hardly recognizes it. He can see it play out in his mind—crawling over the bird’s prone form and turning her over onto her belly, his knees on either side of her legs, cloaking her. Tugging down the zipper of his pants and wrenching those slutty shorts down to mid-thigh before burying his shaft in her hole. Little bird that followed him home, sleeping in his bed. She should thank him for his help with a wet hole. 

Simon takes a step into the room and then stops. He won’t—can’t—

His teeth grind together from how hard he clenches his jaw. 

He stands in the doorway and watches her sleep in his bed for longer than he should. Only when he feels something ugly well up in his chest does he finally bark out her name, snorting softly when she jumps and nearly falls right off the side of the bed. 

“Get up,” Simon grunts. “And make yourself something to eat. I’ve gotta head out.”

He walks away before the befuddled look on her face makes him crack a smile. 

She tiptoes out a few minutes later, still in her PJs. Her wary glances tick him off. For the effort it’s taken him to keep his hands to himself, he deserves more than her shifty looks, scoring him like he split her little peach open in her sleep.  

Breakfast is an uncomfortable affair. It’s partly his fault, but he doesn’t apologize for it. They eat in tense silence until it’s time for him to head to work. 

“Don't think about leaving—any of my shit gets nicked and it's your ass.”

He leaves her with that warning, slamming the door behind him.

Your heart goes quiet at the dawning of your new life. 

Adjusting to your new reality takes a bit of effort. The first few days with Simon feel tenuous at best. You worry constantly about doing something wrong and finding yourself back out on the streets. You’re thankful to the point of pandering, apologizing for any sudden move or sound that you make. You can tell it annoys him. 

The real work is recontextualizing your perception of yourself. The world feels strange now that you’re outside of it; alien somehow. You used to think of yourself as somehow inextricably woven into the fabric of society. The thought of losing everything never even occurred to you. It never even presented itself as a possibility. You worried about homelessness the way people worry about quicksand—in some nebulous way touching on the real without being absorbed by it. 

And now you are cut from another cloth altogether; abruptly, without any warning. You used to feel like one with the rest of the world, a kind of kinship based less on parentage or ancestry and more on inner nature. Weren’t you the same as any of them? But now the drapery has been pulled down and you know—you are not the same. 

Your future used to shimmer under the surface like a bioluminescent fish, but now it’s just a ghost.

He tells you to stay put when he goes to work so you do, spending the days puttering around the apartment, watching TV, and cleaning. There’s not much else to do. It’s almost a relief, to be honest. You’ve spent so much time without a place to call home that the second someone offered you one, the outside world became anathema in your head. You couldn’t step foot out of the front door even if you wanted to. 

Tears well up at the smallest thing. You blubber over not being able to work the coffee machine in the kitchen. When the sound goes out on the TV, you cry so hard that it leaves you woozy. You’re lachrymose, downtrodden. Soul a startling verdigris; your waterlines might as well be white with encrustations of salt. 

He must notice the dark cloud following you from room to room, but he doesn’t bring it up. You’d find it tactful, but you know him a bit better than that. 

Then Simon brings home a cat after his shift one day and you don’t know what to say to that.

Thank you doesn’t seem to suffice. I love it doesn’t cut it close. The truth of the matter is that words only ever approximate the feeling; they can get close enough to give you a glimmer of what’s stashed inside, but you can’t pry them all the way open. So you take the off-white cat from him when he practically tosses the poor thing into your arms, and stare up at him wide-eyed, eyes already watering for reasons once again unbeknownst to you. 

“Thank you for taking him home,” you say, already on the verge of tears.

He stares down at you, unblinking. You’re learning to read into his silences though. 

“Don’t expect me to take care of it,” he says instead of accepting your thanks. “If you can’t handle it, it’s going back outside.” 

You hold the cat tight to your chest, staring up at him with horror until the little beast nearly scratches your eye out in an effort to squirm out of your arms. 

At first, you’re not sure what to make of it. It can’t be a peace offering because, apart from the rare occasions where you manage to get on his nerves (not wholly impossible, but you’re learning how to stay on his good side for the most part), you and Simon get along pretty well. You coexist, at least. He cooks, you clean. 

It’s likely a distraction, you finally realize, something to keep you from moping around the apartment all the time, listless and directionless. Despite the fact that you’re no longer in any immediate danger now that you have a roof over your head, misery still clings to you like a second skin. The relative safety of Simon’s flat has actually only given you a chance to really properly mourn the loss of your former life. 

Training the cat to wear a harness without tipping over (the little drama king) and taking him on his first walk outside (just a little turn around the block, though you half jump out of your skin whenever you cross paths with another person) gives you enough of a sense of purpose to propel you through the next week. 

You can tell that Simon thinks the cat is more trouble than it’s worth, especially when it decides to fixate on the one person in the flat that doesn’t pay it a lick of attention, but still it makes your heart melt to see it curled up by his side when you watch TV together at the end of the night. 

“Is this normal for you?” you ask, hands folded in your lap.

His gaze doesn’t move from the television screen. “Is what normal?”

“Taking in strays.”

He snorts, then takes a second to answer. “No.”

You wonder if he intends to sound as caustic as he comes across. The truth is self-evident though. Words only mask the real, and the real in this case is that Simon Riley is a man that feeds and takes home strays. He can grumble about it all he wants. It’s a bit demeaning to think of yourself that way, but once again, the truth is what it is. 

You study him from the corner of your eye until bedtime rolls around again. He’s become the most interesting thing in the world to you, through every fault of his own.

If he didn’t want you to fixate on him, he wouldn’t have left you home alone with nothing else to do. 

“Bird!” Simon roars from the other room. “The cat’s pissed on the floor again.”

You spring out of bed before Simon has a chance to toss it out onto the balcony. 

It feels temporary up until the first time you use Simon’s address on a job application. It stands out stark on your phone screen, black on glowing white. You’ve always preferred it to dark mode, though that preference has fluctuated in recent weeks as you’ve spent more and more time on your phone. 

This is the first time staring at the screen without blinking for a prolonged period of time that hasn’t left you with a throbbing migraine. 

He tells you to stop bothering him with stupid shit when you ask him if it’s alright to use his address. That answers that. Guilt lingers on the periphery of your mind the first time that you do, but then the application is submitted. An innocuous grey box that redefines your whole world in a way that [Thanks for applying!] doesn’t seem to encapsulate. 

Your old friends come next. They come back one by one, guilty, furtive looks aplenty. You Facetime the one who wouldn’t let you sleep on her couch while sitting on Simon’s bed. When she asks you about your living situation, all you tell her is that you found a roommate. It doesn’t feel right to give her more information than that. What has she done to deserve your honesty? 

You manage pleasantries and a half decent conversation, but truth again lingers at the back of your mind. The unspoken reality that this person—someone you trusted—could’ve been there for you in your time of need but chose to look the other way instead. Like taking you in would’ve been some big, terrible thing. 

The body forgets everything except what hurts it. The body remembers nothing except what helps it survive. 

Gratefulness lodges into your heart like an arrow shot from a castle’s ramparts intent on your demise. You could pull it out from the other side and succumb to blood loss, or you could push forward, lay siege to the man hidden inside its walls. 

And you do. You want to show him every grateful inch of you. Even when it only results in more upset. Simon comes home to the smoke alarm blaring and a small fire in the microwave before he bans you from the kitchen altogether. You only cry for an hour in the bedroom with the door shut before he drags you out to takeout on the table in the living room. It’s an improvement. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle into your veggie burger, on the verge of tears again when you glance into the kitchen to see most of the mess still there. 

“It’s fine.”

“I just want to—I wanted to make it up to you…for taking me in.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” he says brusquely, dismissing you. His tone tells you to drop it, but that seems as likely as you growing wings and flying away. 

“Yes, I do. You let me stay here when I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“If you want to make it up to me, take care of the cat and stop leaving your shit all over the bathroom. Found your knickers on the floor after you showered yesterday.”

Your face goes hot at that. You have nothing else to say. 

Your attraction is a banal consequence of living under the same roof as him. There are only so many times he can come up behind you while you’re making your morning cup of coffee and swipe your mug before taking a sip from over your shoulder, barricading you against the counter. Acutely aware of the size of him with the way he’s pressed up against you. 

You lose your train of thought whenever Simon wanders into a room. He lumbers in like a beast, steel-toed boots covered in mud and dust, ignoring the way you scold him for walking around the apartment in his shoes. Just cocks an eyebrow and stares down at you knowingly, like he can see right through you, knows that you’re only squawking and flitting around to hide the way your thighs rub together. 

“It’s my fuckin’ flat,” he says instead of pointing out that your pussy’s wet because she knows there’s a man in the house that could take care of her proper. You know it too. 

“I live here too, you know,” you huff. “I can’t wash the floors every time you come home.”

“Thought I was doing you a favour letting you live here.”

His words would fill you with righteous indignation, but they don’t because his actions don’t line up. You study him like a moth under glass, enthralled by the parts of him that used to frighten you. 

It’s more than that though. He’s wedged himself into the hurt place in your heart, holding it up like Atlas. 

You really do think that there’s something so special about him that you’ll never be able to articulate. Simon is everything you didn’t know you desperately wanted. The longer you live with him, the harder it is to deny how much you need him. 

You will show your gratitude though. Every tender, aching morsel of it. 

The little peach she grinds on his thigh is wet and ripe. Simon doesn’t tell her that he doesn’t need her gratitude; if he wanted it, he would’ve taken it already. But he doesn’t shove her out of his lap either. It’s not his problem if she thinks it’s necessary or not.

Maybe it’s not solely for his benefit, he concedes when she winds both arms around his neck and pushes her supple tits into his chest, climbing over his lap until her pussy is pressed right up against the cock fattening up in his jeans. She whimpers like she’s in pain. 

Must not come a lot; he knows she at least hasn’t in recent days. Simon’s always been a light sleeper—he’s sure he would’ve heard any desperate attempts to get herself off in his bed, the springs creaking under her weight, her hushed, bitten off moans leaking out from under the doorframe. The thought riles him up more than he thought it would. 

Still, Simon doesn’t lift a hand to help the poor bird in his lap as she grinds down on his length. His arms stay stretched across the back of the couch, hips canted just enough to give her a perch and nothing more. 

She gasps every word into his ear, voice all pitched and breathy. “Ah, ah, ah—thank you, thank you, I…—can I please have it? Please, please let me, Simon, pleasepleaseplease—”

It feels like everything they’ve been through so far has been leading to this. He’d smelt it coming like blood in the water. 

All week, his bird has been sitting on her hands and trying not to give herself away. Cloaked in a nervous, frenetic energy. Anticipatory. She’d doe-eyed him the night before and begged him to sleep in the bed with her instead of wrecking his back on the couch, but he’d ignored her in favour of watching Argentina decimate Croatia in the semi-finals. It must have not sat right with her though because she’d been broody from the moment he left for work until he got home, steering him into the kitchen and practically hand feeding him before coaxing him into the living room to watch a movie while she cuddled up beside him.

That hadn’t lasted long. 

“What’s gotten into you, pet?” Simon asks, hardly dissuading her when she presses petal soft lips to his jaw and nuzzles, breathing heavily. His heart swells. Desperate little slut. 

“Took care of me,” she mumbles, almost slurring her words. “Always taking care of me, Simon.”

There’s no denying how hard it makes him to think about being her protector. The littlest things make her smile. Even the bloody cat had her trailing after him for a week straight after the fact, eternally underfoot. Always trying to curry favour. Eager to please. 

Her worship leaves him unbalanced. Unstable even. A train careening off its track, the massive weight of catastrophe right behind it. The sense that life will never be the same after this. His surface level indifference is underscored by steeled self-control. He keeps his arms on the couch because he knows the second he puts them on her, it’s over. There’ll be no holding him back anymore, no possibility of him ever letting her go back out into the real world. Lock jawed, teeth sunk into her tender underbelly. 

“Told you, you don’t owe me nothing,” Simon murmurs, curling his hands under her ass. 

“Then—then…—I don’t know, pretend it’s just for me.” It’s a joke because they both know it’s not just for her. When her eyes sparkle with amusement, his cock throbs.

He lets her ruck the shirt over his head and struggle with his belt until she manages to unbuckle it like he has no say in the matter. She’s far less considerate with her own clothes, shucking them off and nearly ripping her knickers in the process, which almost prompts him to take her by the wrists and slow her down. He likes the lace and frills. 

It’s a fight to fit his cock into her hole, as slick as she is. Coin slot tight; he almost breaks and tells her to take it easy when she reaches behind her to line his shaft up with her entrance and sits down, just barely stretching around the mushroomed head of his dick before wincing, tears springing into her eyes. 

Simon does break when she tries to sink down another inch, thighs shaking violently. “Right, get off—you ain’t ready for this.”

“I am!” she insists, face screwed up in a scowl and a bead of sweat dripping down her temple. “Just—I can do it, Simon—”

“No, you can’t. You’re rushing and hurting yourself—”

“Wait, okay, wait, I can…just give me a minute, okay?” she begs, and he doesn’t tell her that he’d give her all the time in the world. Stay on this couch until the flesh fell off his bones. He’s waited so long; what’s a little longer? 

Besides, the sight of her stretching herself out with her fingers is reward enough. She whines into his shoulder and shudders when she has to force another finger in before she’s ready. Too eager. It could give a man a complex. His blood is already scorching him from the inside out, too hot for his veins.  

He considers helping her out, but watching her writhe and struggle in his lap is far more enjoyable. 

He stopped paying attention awhile back, too focused on cupping her tits and running his tongue around the budded areola, sucking her pert nipple into his mouth, but she couldn’t have gotten to more than three fingers before running out of patience and lining him up again. This time, she sinks a bit deeper on the first stroke, still choking on her breath but forcing herself to take a bit more. 

“You’re alright—you’re alright,” Simon murmurs, stroking a hand up and down her back while she impales herself on his length. She’s still too tight to take him comfortably, sweats and shakes over him. He pinches her nipple to distract her from the pain and smiles when she yelps. 

She melts all over him, slick drenching his shaft and lap, her tongue lapping at the sweaty skin of his neck. Honeysuckle fragrant; the sweetest thing he’s ever known. Silken, tight. Fits like a glove around him. 

He could lose himself in her. Piston into her until the thought of where he begins and where he ends dissolves into the tight warmth between her legs.

His bird is a greedy girl. She uses him like a toy to get herself off, bouncing in his lap and mewling into his ear everytime his cockhead nudges against her cervix. Too big to fit all the way in. 

“You do this a lot, pet? Fuck every man that lends you a hand?” he pants, taunting her.

“No!” she snarls in his ear, feisty and sharp-toothed. Her nails dig into his back, scoring white lines into his skin. The shiver that wracks him is so violent that his arms tighten around her waist reflexively, making her gasp. 

It doesn’t matter whether she does this often or not; the only thing that matters is that he’s the only man that gets to fuck her from here on out. Still, winding her up is half the fun. 

“Perfect girl,” Simon chuckles, breathless. “Made for me. Got m’self a pet right off the street.”

And he did, didn’t he? Went wandering out into the night and came home with a bird fluttering her wet little wings. 

His conscience is clean. He could’ve tied her down, kept her right where he wanted her (in his bed, his flat, the yawning cavity of his chest—) but his self-control remains unparalleled. Tough as nails. Strong as steel. And now look at what he has as a reward for his patience—a fever-hot cunt around his cock and delicate fingernails scratching the base of his skull. 

A pretty bird that’s made his chest a cage. 

The world goes vertical, horizontal. Fluid; sliding away from him. Something crashes in the background, so far off in the distance that he can hardly make out the sound. 

He opens his eyes to find the ceiling staring back down at him, and then her face, hovering over him on the carpeted floor, her hands kneading the muscle of his chest. Her brows are drawn tight now, pinched. She stares down at him, past him, gaze like a transparent veil. 

“Gi’me…gi’me…” she pants, barely able to pull herself off his cock. 

He has to dig his fingers into her ass and pull her off, ignoring the way she whines and begs him to fill her back up. Ignores it because he knows what’s best for her; knows how to take care of what he owns. 

When he bucks up into her, she chokes, fingers nearly yanking his chest hair out. 

“Fuckin’ hell, that’s pretty,” he breathes. Snaps his hips up into hers again, relishing in the way she squeezes tight around him, almost to the point of pain. 

His pleasure always comes jagged though. Whether the ache of his joints or nails tearing up the skin of his back and chest. Vicious and messy—how he likes it. She gives him everything he could want and more. The hand dug into his chest right above his heart could pierce right through the flesh and tear it out.

He pulls her all the way off his cock just for the pleasure of hearing her beg him again, then pulls her up his chest and eats her out until the beast in his belly calms down. 

He yields to her whining only after a good few minutes. Soft bastard. Drags her back down until her soaked hole mouths at the head of his cock and he thrusts back up inside. Home. It’s his now, whether she likes it or not. Simon guesses he’s lucky that she wants it too; if he had to convince her, he would, but her desperation is just another gift for him to savour. 

“Squeeze me good, bird. Say thank you—” thank you for taking me home, thank you for keeping me– almost spills off his tongue, but he reigns it in. She knows what to be thankful for. 

“Nngh, Simon,” she sings, fucking herself on his cock. The sweetest sound he’s ever heard. 

Simon’s never felt bigger than under his sweet bird. Thighs spread so wide around him that he knows she’ll ache in the morning. Brutish hands groping her thighs and waist and tits, rough against the softness of her skin. Stuffed full of a big cock, not even to the root; she bites right through her bottom lip when Simon pets at the thin skin stretched around his cock, her gaze wounded, overwhelmed. 

Nearly blacks out at the thought of cramming a finger up there too. Only faint concern for her well-being tamps down the urge. 

“Come on, fuck—that good, pet?”

“R-right there, oh god, ohgodohgod—”

He lets her ride him until she comes, until he comes, until his spend is blistering hot in her cunt, drooling down the length of his cock, frothy white with her cream and his come. 

It’s a sight to look at. Gets him right in the chest. Nothing like times of yore; this is something with meaning, with feeling. When he lifts her off, his seed trickles out of her soft hole in white globs and makes his chest ache. It doesn’t matter whether it takes root or not. All that he needs is already here. 

Beautiful and rare as a sundog; haloed by light. All this time, he dared not think this could be it. 

He thinks he’ll love her with the same ferocity Icarus had on his descent.

She shivers when he traces his fingers up her spine. “N’more. M’tired.”

“Wasn’t gonna, pet.”

The bedroom then. She twitches in his arms when Simon carries her to bed and pats his chest approvingly when he slides in beside her. 

He could’ve told her that it’d end up this way. He smiles indulgently when she shifts and splays over his chest, her nose nudging his nipple. Already fast asleep. 

In the morning, you sit across from him, half a grapefruit in a bowl in front of you and a mug of coffee, black. 

“I think I want to go back to school,” you say, apropos of nothing. The spoon clinks against the inside of the bowl. 

“Yeah?” he says, only half-listening. 

“I can always get a part time job on the days when I don’t have class. I never liked my old job anyway.”

“Do whatever you want,” Simon grunts. “Not my problem.”

Under the table, your cat’s tail curls around your ankle while he waits for you to sneak him the scraps. 

You smile.

[livwritesstuff]

i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and it’s been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.

He’d spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, he’d be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, “I really didn’t mean any trouble,” and he’s home free.

It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddie’s make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddie’s not all that worried. In fact, he’s got a pretty good amount of faith in Steve’s ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, “Yes Chief, sorry Chief, it won’t happen again Chief.”

So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, “Hey, morons! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, “What’s it to you?”

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

“Steve,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before.

“What’s it to me?” Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, “It’s midnight. I’m on patrol. You’ve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiot–” Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didn’t think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, he’s missing something here), “–who’s been dragged into my station more times than I could count.”

“The town line, Hop, is over there,” Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hop’s shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, “We’re not even in Hawkins anymore. You’re totally out of your jurisdiction.”

“You wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?” Hopper asks, “If my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.”

“Wow,” Steve deadpans, “Way to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.”

Hopper’s jaw twitches for a second, and he’s clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steve’s credit, looks like he’s got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.

“If you’re not home by one there’s gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?” Hopper yells, “One AM. Hell to pay.”

“Oh, sure,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Totally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.”

Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before he’s gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.

“God, he’s so annoying. Let’s just go to my house.”

Eddie gapes at him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopper’s car had just been.

“Wha– you mean with Hop?”

“Uh, yeah?!?”

Steve just brushed him off, “Whatever, just ignore him. He’s basically my dad.”

“What?”

EDIT: read the expanded fic on AO3 :)

[manicmanuscription]

Unapologetically Selfish

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Illusions to smut, fluff, gaslighting(?) not proofread bc author is lazy

Word Count: 2334

Summary: When both of your jobs have your time with each other limited, Azriel makes the decision to keep you all to himself. Content to let his family think he'd finally lost his mind but an accidental meeting has the IC realizing Azriel truly does have a secret mate.

─── ♡ ───

Cassian was…concerned, to say the least. 

He fully believed Azriel was loosing his god damned mind and with each passing day this assumption only worsened. 

It all started three years ago, Azriel becoming almost scarce from time to time. With no explanation other than vague answers. It didn’t happen a lot and Cassian respected his brother needed his space some time, it wasn’t unusual for the Spymaster to slink off in the shadows. But then after a year his disappearance’s become nearly constant. 

Cassian and Rhysand finally cornered their brother after they demanded he show up for a monthly family dinner, the whole inner circle was getting concerned and decided that the two Illyrians were the best equipped to deal with this. 

Azriel had blankly looked at his brothers a small furrow in his brow as he sat through their interrogation. He hadn’t even realized he had been gone that much to be frank. Just… after meeting you? He wanted to spend every second of the day by your side, the mating bond simply not enough for how deeply he felt for you. 

After realizing the worry he was causing his family he pursed his lips and quite reluctantly told his brothers that he had found his mate. 

The look on the High Lord and General of the Night Court was absolutely priceless, their mouths hanging open as a stunned expression took over their usually stoic faces. 

Not even five minutes later the whole family knew, everyone pestering him for information like when they would get to meet you, what your name was, what did you do, how did you meet, where have you been this entire time. 

“Wait!” Feyre said as Mor had opened another bottle of wine and started excitedly pouring everyone a glass. “Is that why you asked Rhysand for a few months off?” 

The whole Inner Circle froze at Azriel’s simple nod. They all knew the implications of what that meant and Cassian was the first to speak. “You had a mating ceremony and none of us knew?” His voice thick with emotion. 

Azriel struggled with his next words. His heart a lump in his throat. He was never a talkative male, especially not about his feelings. 

“I-“ 

The truth was he was an incredibly selfish bastard. Of course he wanted his family to meet you, you were the most radiant person he ever had the pleasure of breathing next to and that was precisely the problem. He wanted you all to himself. 

“I’m sorry.” He said clearing his throat. “Would you like to meet her?” The house erupted with enthusiastic yes’s as his words seemed to smooth over the transgression. 

Eight months after that conversation, and after 6 canceled dinners 2 rescheduled lunches and just a straight up no show for drinks, The Night Court decided Azriel was…delusional. 

Of course they came to this conclusion delicately and most definitely amongst themselves after long and heated conversations.

Once again Rhysand and Cassian were sent to talk with the elusive spymaster and why he would make up such a lie. 

Azriel just refused their nonsense once again. He had told them the truth and it was their fault they didn’t believe it. He had barely seen you these last couple months as you had been working on the Continent and he had other tasks assigned to him. He told his brothers this and they just gave each other a look, one he simply ignored. 

Soon…the teasing started. Once the Inner Circle realized Azriel was doubling down on his ‘delusions’ Cassian promptly started joking about the fake wife and mate Azriel had. A few offhand comments here and there that become more and more frequent, of course Nesta and the rest of their family told him to shut up, but for Cassian it came from a place of love. 

He had tried talking to his brother, tried helping him through this. Cassian’s mind spinning, he truly thought Azriel had finally cracked, that his dearest brother was so alone he had made up an imaginary mate just to prove something. 

So his teasing was his last ditch effort, the final playing card to hopefully get Azriel to just admit he lied, than Cassian would take him out for drinks and be his shoulder to cry on for whatever issue that was obviously going on. 

Except it didn’t work. Azriel just grew more and more distant, if he wasn’t working he was simply…elsewhere. The last time Azriel ever made an effort to be around his family was when he suddenly up and decided to move out of the House of Wind, throwing a small house party for a beautiful cottage he purchased along the coast. 

Rhysand had to force Azriel to come to family dinners, in which sometimes the Spymaster simply never showed up and when he did his mind seemed distant and detached. 

Everyone was getting increasingly worried, especially Cassian. Azriel was incredibly important to him and although Cassian would never admit this, he felt responsible for him. Sometimes his brother didn’t know how to take care of himself, especially emotionally and whenever that happened The General had always been there, happily helping him whenever he could, making sure his heart and mind were protected, fighting off Azriel’s demons when he couldn’t do it himself. 

And he had never seen his brother so…aloof, distant and he had never thought his mental health would have gotten so bad he had made up a mate. So finally, Cassian and Rhys decided it was time for an intervention. 

———

Azriel.. for the life of him could not wait for his brothers to get out of his house. 

He loved them dearly and he knew he had been acting stranger and stranger these last few years, he knew his family thought he was certifiably insane and that great Shadowsinger of the fearsome Night Court had finally snapped and of course he cared, he knew that his actions had his brothers spinning and Nesta’s newly revealed pregnancy didn’t help Cassian’s grey hairs, and he had tried countless times to explain to them that he wasn’t insane, that you were real and beautiful and had utterly and completely captured his heart. 

But without the proof, his brothers simply didn’t believe him. Azriel wanted you to meet his family, gods did he want you too. But his time with you was becoming more and more rare. 

If you weren’t on the Continent you were with Thesan and if you weren’t with Thesan you were with Helion, leading all sorts of medical discoveries he simply could not comprehend no matter how hard he tried, this new medical project you were taking on meant that he hadn’t seen you in months, his body and heart ached for you and he truly had never felt such longing in his life. His brother’s insisting that he was insane certainly wasn’t helping his heartache.  

“I…” Cassian swallowed. “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore Az.” He whispered finally and Azriel truly felt the guilt he had been burying down hit him as if he had been struck at the look on his brother’s face. 

He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately couldn’t find the words as Cassian left his home office, his footsteps echoing the utter doom and gloom he felt not only at your disappearance but at the raging guilt he felt for putting everyone in this situation in the first place. 

“Please…Just talk to us Az-“ Rhys started but he put his hand up. “Just, Go..please, we can talk about this later.” Azriel pleaded and Rhysand must’ve seen the look on his face so he pursed his lips and followed the General out of his brother’s home. 

———

You couldn’t wait to get home not only to the house you’d built together but to your mate. Every fiber of your being ached for him, and it physically hurt to be away from him for so long. 

So finally you had announced to your team and your dearest friend Thesan you were taking a well deserved break and decided to surprise your mate. 

You desperately needed to see him, hold him, breathe him in. Your soul was raging for the distance to finally be closed and so you planned a surprise trip, so you shut off the bond to him, which had sent him into a wild panic but you soothed it temporarily saying you were busy and needed to focus. But really you knew you couldn’t hide the excitement at finally arriving home, your chest was alight with nerves as you opened the door to your house, your fingers nervously playing with your hair as you couldn’t stop the giddy smile from erupting across your face. 

This was space was yours. For the first time you had not just a house but a home, and a lot of your tension eased at finally stepping into the carefully curated space you and Azriel had created. You could smell him everywhere, and it insantly made your frayed nerves ease, your body already relaxing at just finally being home.

It had been six long months without touching him, seeing him, with only fleeting reassurance and love sent down the bond and you needed him. Now. 

You were so excited you didn’t see the tall and bulky Illyrian warrior standing in your hallway staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. You crashed into a hard wall of muscle in your haste to get to your mate and immediately pulled back. 

“Your…not Azriel.” You stated, looking him up and down with a small frown etched on your face, something primal recoiling at the thought of another male in your house.

“Neither are you?” The male stated his voice with a slight edge, eyes wary as he looked you up and down, as if you were a threat. His fingers twitching and you immediately pulled away from him noticing his dangerous expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here? I think the question is what the hell are you doing in my house.” You asked stepping another few paces away from him but still crossing your arms over your chest as you looked him up and down. He wore red siphons on his hands and his long brown hair had a few greys all tied together in a low bun. Cassian, then you assumed.

“Wait..I’m sorry what?” The male sputtered, his vicious stance immediately softening into one of shock. You didn’t notice the High Lord standing behind him with an equal look of surprise as their brains finally processed the information. Their brother hadn’t cracked, he had been telling the truth about all of it. The traveling, the courtship, that he was in fact married and mated. 

Shadows twisted in the corner before scurrying off down the hall and in just a few seconds you were being tugged into a warm chest and spun around as scarred hands possessively held your waist. You giggled at the touch, the bond in your chest thrummed with light as peace finally settled in your bones. Home you were finally home. He set you down and you leaned up pulling his face close to yours as you peppered him with kisses. Gods you had missed him so much. He smiled softly at your touch shadows almost completely engulfing you as they too missed you. 

“Hey, Hello? We’re still here.” Cassian snapped his fingers to get your attention and Azriel growled darkly at the intrusion. You had been gone for six months you were his not his family’s. It wasn’t just a want that made him grip you even tighter at the thought of his family taking away your time with their endless interrogation no, no it was a need that thrummed throughout the fiber of his being. He needed to mark you up and hold you close and worship every single inch of skin on your body. He needed to completely immerse himself into you. 

Rhysand must have seen the look on his face or heard something in his mind because he gently gripped Cassian’s shoulders. “If you neither of you show up to breakfast tomorrow we will hunt you down or simply show up here.” It was said in a playful tone but Azriel understood the threat behind it, he was going to have to finally introduce you whether he liked it or not and with a simple wave of agreement from Azriel the two males winnowed away and he pressed himself further against you. Breathing in your scent all his stress and worry melting away as he did. The bond had been pulled so taut with the distance it had ached with the worst pain possible. 

“I missed you.” You breathed out softly, he grunted in agreement. “Let me take you far away from here and show you how much I missed you.” He whispered as he pressed soft kisses down the side of your neck, you giggled and his heart beat faster at the noise. “You are not getting of that easy again Spymaster.” You spoke with another laugh. His hands tightened even further on your hips with frustration, one of them sliding up to tangle in your hair as he kissed you, his tongue sliding in your lips claiming your’s with a deep desire that settled in his bones. You’d leave again soon and now he’d have to share your limited time with someone else. He tugged at your bottom lip possessively at the thought and lifted you in his arms your legs straddling as his waist as he walked you to your bedroom to show you exactly how much you were his. 

————— 

The Inner Circle anxiously awaited The General and High Lord’s arrival, waiting on any news of Azriel’s mental health when they finally winnowed in. Shocked grins overtaking their expressions. There was a beat of silence before Cassian spoke up. “You’ll never guess what the actual fuck just happened.” 

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡