#I love them I love them I love them I love th

[chinchillion]

[toji-girl]

Hi! Can i request or ask for toji and pregnant reader in labor process and a nervous toji trying to calm her down with dumb jokes and reader giving hin the side eye

I love your content so freaking much! Have a nice day!

hello, and yes you may! thank you so much for being so kind and I hope you have the best day ever sweetheart 🩷🩷

tags: pregnant! fem reader who has a vaginal birth + fluff

When you read about other women's birthing stories they always added that it was different for everyone, but there was something you noticed. They all spoke about the ring of fire during birth.

As well as all the different types of birthing plans that made your head spin, women have been doing this for ages, well before hospitals were built along with midwives or doctors came in as well.

Toji was also a nervous mess, but he hid it behind jokes that could've been told at a better time. For example, when you had your last ultrasound the nurse asked if Toji was your husband or boyfriend.

Not that it mattered to anyone, but the conversation made it go faster and smoother, what you didn't expect was for your husband to tell her that he was your brother-in-law and was carrying his kid which only made the appointment tense with the fake drama.

He wasn't sure if he could be a good father, and sure the internet told him how to but what if he failed? Toji knew deep down you would be a good mother and he couldn't ask for a better one for his son.

"My brother-in-law? You made us look like homewreckers!" You hissed at the end of the appointment when you waddled past him toward the car letting your anger fuel your steps.

Your hormones have changed in ways you never expected so you were a bit touchier than normal and the whole thing left you embarrassed and angry but you also understood that Toji was nervous and he had a habit of saying out-of-the-pocket things.

Toji opened your door but stopped you gently before getting in. "I'm sorry darlin', our lives are about to change, and I—"

You cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. "I know baby, I'm nervous too but we got this, we're a team and you're going to be such a good dad, I know it, we have each other." You assured him softly.

He pulled you into him despite your big belly which created some space between you both but he still held onto you peppering your face in soft kisses before pulling away to help you in your seat.

Later that night the last thing you expected after dinner was for your water to break, especially on the couch which would have to be cleaned when you came back or tossed out altogether, the whole time Toji stood there reminding you of a Sim from the game you played.

On the way to the hospital, he was sure you cracked the bones in his fingers when each contraction hit you like a wave of pain that reminded you of menstrual ones but ten times worse and your birth plan was quickly going out of the window when you got in your room.

You told everyone your plan which included no meds or anything of the sort but as time went on and the pain only intensified you finally let them grant you a little bit of relief.

Toji was sure to tell the nurses all but barking orders out while he was soft and sweet on you. "This is all your fault, you wanted this and I have to push a baby out of my vagina for you!" You wailed and gripped his hand again as you sagged on the bed.

He stood next to the bed with a grimace as he dried the sweat off your forehead. "Sorry darlin', but I'm pretty sure you begged for this after seeing that family at the park."

Your head almost snapped when you jerked back to glare at him yanking your wrist away from him. "Are you blaming me?!"

At this point, the nurses stepped in and escorted a blubbering Toji who told them to all but fuck off, his wife was not going to give birth alone even if you wanted to skin him alive he wasn't going to miss it.

Once everyone was calm and you were crying for Toji he came up and made sure never to leave your side but his nerves got the best of him when the nurse moved him between your legs in time for Megumi to crown. "Oh—is her vagina supposed to be stretched like that?"

His question made your face burn as you glared at him. "Yeah, we are never having another baby again." You grunted through clenched teeth before pushing once more to finally birth your son.

Toji all but snatched him from the doctor with a glare as he looked down at the life you both created and you watched as your husband went from a man who was hard as stone when you first met him, and now he was a man willing to lay his life down for his family.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: CHANGBIN X READER X SEUNGMIN ☾ ━━━ PROMPTS: "I just wanna feel something" + "you look so good with my hand around your neck" ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: FEM! READER, CASUAL DRINKING (nothing heavy; don't drink and do it), TEASING, BITING, KISSING, ORAL (F+M REC), BREATH PLAY (choking), FINGERING, SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM, MEAN DOM!SEUNGMIN, SUB!READER, DOM!CHANGBIN, THREESOME, PET NAMES, DIRTY TALK, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap it before you tap it), ROUGH SEX, PORN W/ (kinda) PLT, SPIT ROAST, CUM SHOT (1), ALLUDE TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     "Are you two staying in tonight?" (Y/n) asked her two friends over the phone. She had called Seungmin while getting ready to go out with some of her other friends. Changbin had shown up in the middle of the call. And of course, as she was about to leave to finish getting ready, her other friends texted and just told her not to come.

     "You just got canceled on?" Changbin asked

     "I wish. They just straight up told me not to come." (Y/n) answered

     “Gross. You should drop them." Seungmin suggested

     "Can I just come over and drink with you guys?"

     "I'll come to pick you up," Changbin announced

     "Thanks, Binnie."

     "You know I'm right. They've been singling you out for the past couple of months. You should drop them." Seungmin stated

     "Yeah. I don't know why though. I haven't done shit to them." (Y/n) sighed 

     "So you wanna drown you're dying friendship with alcohol?"

     "Honestly, I’d rather get drunk with you and Bin than them."

     "Why though?"

     "I just want to feel something."

     "There are other things to feel other than black-out drunk."

     "I'm not gonna get blackout. You both are gonna end up cutting me off.”

     “You tend to do stupid things when you’re drunk.”

     “And you never fail to remind me, Min.”

     “What are friends for.” (Y/n) could hear him smiling on the other end of the phone as she got a text from the other one that he was at her place.

     “I’ll see you in a bit, Min.” (Y/n) hung up on her friend and went to grab her shoes and house keys.

     She was a little grateful that her friends canceled before she got changed out of her house clothes. She shuffled her way down to Changbin's car and hopped in the passenger seat.

     “Ready?” he asked as he took the car out of park

     “Yes sir.”

     Changbin smiled at her as they took the short drive back to his and Seungmins' place while (Y/n) started out the window. He kept his playlist going so the drive wasn’t so silent.

     Soon the two got into the apartment and saw Seungmin sitting on the couch playing on his phone. (Y/n) kicked off her shoes before going and laying on top of him. Seungmin whined as she laid on him while Changbin laughed at his two friends.

     “Why are you like,” Seungmin questioned

     “Because you love me,” (Y/n) beamed as she got up and walked to their kitchen for a drink, not knowing she left a slightly blushing Seungmin on the couch.

     The three sat on the couch drinking and watching whatever looked interesting. Changbin ordered a pizza for the three of them so they weren't all drinking on an empty stomach. It was all going pretty well till (Y/n)'s phone went off.

     "Who is it?" Bin asked as she looked at the screen

     "Friends," (Y/n) replied

     "Ignore them," Seungmin stated, getting up from the couch and walking off down the hall, probably to use the bathroom.

     "Fuck off," (Y/n) sighed as she opened the message, only seeing them saying how much fun they were having at whatever random club they decided to go to.

     "Nope," Changbin grabbed her phone.

     "Bin!" (Y/n) said as they lunged toward him to grab her phone, only for him to hold it further away.

     "No more talking to them for the rest of the night. They're just trying to make you mad."

     "I have every right to be mad at them!"

     "You can be mad at them tomorrow," Bin held her back from lunging further until she backed down, "Thank you."

     Bin set her phone down next to his on the armrest of the couch. A second later, she lunged across him to grab it. "Hey!” the male exclaimed as he grabbed her arm to stop them.

     The two went back and forth for the phone till Changbin got her pinned down on the couch, straddling her as one hand held her wrists together above her head.

     “No talking to them,” Bin scolded her

     “Fine,” (Y/n) agreed and her friend got off her, helping her sit up.

     “Come here.” Changbin pulled her to his side and wrapped his arms around her. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around him and accepted the comfort

     “I leave for five minutes and you guys are cuddling?” Seungmin asked as he jumped back onto the couch

     “Bite me,” (Y/n) told him as he laid his head on her lap

     “Okay,” he smiled and slightly turned his head and bit her thigh

     “Owe! Min what the fuck!” (Y/n) yelled

     “You said to bite you, so I did.” he was so proud of himself for that, “Should I kiss it better?”

     Before she could even answer, he kissed the spot he had bit. (Y/n) squirmed slightly at the contact. Both her friends noticed it.

     “Hey Bin, (Y/n) said earlier they wanted the feel something.”

     “Really?” (Y/n) blushed heavily under both their gazes. Changbin noticed the tips of her ears turning red and leaned towards her and kissed one, letting the kiss trail to her jaw. “What do you wanna feel baby?”

     “Don’t know…” (Y/n) squeaked as Changbin pulled her up onto his lap whilst he turned their bodies so they were facing Seungmin.

     “You want me and Minnie to make you feel good? Make you forget about your other friends?” Changbin growled in her ear as his hands gripped her sides while Seungmin pushed his body between their legs and looked up at his two friends.

     (Y/n) nodded her head to the questions. “Words pup,” Seungmin stated

     “Yes,” (Y/n) meekly replied

     “Louder.” the man in her lap stated

     “Yes,” (Y/n) replied louder.

     “Don’t tease her too much,” Bin warned the younger one as his hands pushed up her shirt.

     “But it's so fun,” Seungmin smiled as he kissed the exposed skin above the waistband of her pants. Changbin pressed kisses along her neck as his hands slipped under her shirt, sliding his hands up till he found their breasts, needing them in his hands, “Didn’t wear a bra for us, baby?”

     (Y/n) nodded in response as Seungmin pulled her pants down enough to expose her thighs. His lips attached to her skin as he finished pulling the fabric off her legs. The contact from his lips made her squirm a bit more on Changbin’s lap. The man behind them groaned as she shifted, teeth slightly grazing her neck. 

     (Y/n) could feel Changbin’s cock getting harder the more she moved on his lap due to Seungmin’s teasing kisses on their thighs and his ghost kisses over their clothed core. Changbin grabbed her hips and kept her from moving too much. “Can’t keep still pup?” Seungmin teased

     “Think she needs a little more Minnie,” Changbin added

     “Yeah? Poor thing.” Seungmin replied with a smirk. He had noticed the wet spot forming on her panties. Changbin turned her upper body slightly more towards him then removed one hand from her hips to turn her head towards him and place his lips on her. Both moaned a little into the kiss and Changbin slipped his tongue into her mouth. Seungmin watched from below as his two friends made out, grinding his own growing hard-on into their couch cushions.

     He slipped his fingers inside the side of her wet panties pulled them down her legs and let them join her pants somewhere on the floor. Changbin moved his hands down to grab her thighs and spread her legs for his friend. Seungmin smiled and pressed a kiss onto her clit. (Y/n) rolled her hips slightly at the contact and moaned into the kiss she was sharing with the other. His tongue licked a long strip along her folds while Changbin kept her lips busy. 

     “Fuck,” (Y/n) groaned against Changbins lips as she felt his tongue flick her clit.

     “Gonna watch Minnie eat that pretty pussy?” Changbin pulled away from the kiss and let go of one of her thighs, placing it over Seungmin’s shoulder, turning her head to make her watch him eat her out. 

     Seungmins lips wrapped around her clit and lightly sucked on the bud; every so often letting his tongue flick it while her head fell back. Changbin noticed her head falling back and moved his hand to wrap around her throat, not hard but enough to make her gasp. “Keep you’re head up baby.”

     (Y/n) involuntary clenched when he whispered in her ear with his hand wrapped around her throat. “Think she likes that Bin,” Seungmin commented as he pulled away from her clit for a second to comment.

     “You like when we get rough with you baby?”

     “Yes,” (Y/n) nodded

     Seungmins moved lower and pushed his tongue into her. (Y/n) arched away from Changbin’s chest only for him to pull her back and tighten his grip on her throat slightly. “You look so good with my hand around your neck,” Changbin whispered in her ear. His other hand had moved off her thigh and started making small circles around her clit. 

     All the stimulation she was getting made it impossible for her not to come. Her lower body shook as she released into Seungmin’s mouth. The hand around her throat kept her from moaning too loud so the two boys wouldn't get any noise complaints from their neighbors. Changbin removed his hand from her neck and kissed her temple while both his hands came up and rubbed her sides while Seungmin drank up her release.

     (Y/n) slowly caught her breath as they coaxed her through her first orgasm. Seugnmin pulled his face away from her cunt and pushed her shirt up over her breasts as he kissed all along her stomach, leaving a couple of love bits.

     “How are you feeling now baby?” Changbin asked 

     “Good,” (Y/n) replied, still trying to get air back in her lungs.

     The three heard a knock at the door, and only (Y/n) froze while the two men continued. “Stretch her out for me, Min,” Changbin said before he moved her off his lap and laid her back on the couch.

     “You’re gonna need to be quiet pup. Unless you want that poor delivery guy to know you’re getting fucked good by your best friends,” Seungmin whispered stated as Changbin walked around the corner. Two of Seungmin’s long fingers slid between her folds collecting her slick before he pushed both digits into her. (Y/n) bit her lip as she listened to Changbin greet the pizza delivery guy.

     Seungmin didn’t make it easy for her to stay quiet. His fingers scissored her open as his lips wrapped around one of her nipples. She was already sensitive from the orgasm he and Changbin had given her moments ago and his fingers didn’t make it any better. She desperately wanted to scream but couldn’t. Rather she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. 

     Seungmin’s tongue flicked against her nipple before he lightly pulled on it with his teeth before releasing it and looking up at her. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at her trying to keep quiet. He heard the front door close and caught a glimpse of Changbin walking toward the kitchen with the pizza. (Y/n) was too caught up in pleasure to hear the door close while her legs tried to close around his body. 

     He used his free hand to grab her hands and pin them down on the armrest of the couch as he inserted a third finger into her. “Fuck Min,”(Y/n) moaned a little too loud. Not that it mattered but she didn't need to know that. 

     “What I say about being quiet, pup.” It wasn't a question honestly. He just wanted a reason to tease her. He stopped his motion of pumping into her. 

     “‘M sorry Minnie,” (Y/n) whined as she rolled her hips against his hand

     “Are you?” he asked slowly sliding his fingers out

     “I’m sorry Minnie. I’ll be quiet,” (Y/n) frantically replied 

     “Is Minnie being mean to you?” Changbin asked as he came back over to the couch, standing to the side of her

     (Y/n) nodded as she looked at the other male. Seungmin quickly pushed his fingers back into her while she was distracted by Changbin. Both smiled at her while her mouth hung open from the sudden motion. Changbin took the chance to pull his hard cock out of his sweats and pumped himself a few times.

     “Tongue out baby,” Changbin stated. 

     (Y/n) stuck her tongue out for him as he placed the tip of his dick out it, rubbing the precum on the muscle before he pushed into her mouth. His hand went under her head, holding her up a bit as he slowly fucked her face. 

     “Get it nice and wet for yourself baby,” Changbin groaned while her tongue ran along the underside of his cock. 

     (Y/n) moaned as Seungmin fingered her faster which made Changbin pick up his pace. She clenched around the younger one's fingers before he pulled them out. (Y/n) groaned at the loss of his fingers before Changbin pulled himself from her mouth. Neither man said anything as they pulled her off her back. 

     Changbin got behind her as he discarded his clothing while Seungmin sat back against the other arm of the sofa and discarded the shirt he had pushed over her chest earlier before pulling her in for a kiss, one hand holding the nape of her neck. (Y/n) moaned into the kiss as she placed her hands next to his body, effectively putting her on all fours. She felt Changbin grab her hips and pull her back a bit. The tip of his dick slid between her folds a couple of times before he slowly pushed into her.

     “Oh fuck,” (Y/n) gasped against her friends’ lips. 

     “Binnie’s dick feel good in you?” Seungmin questioned as he pulled away from their kiss

     “Feel so good,” (Y/n) replied as Changbin started roughly thrusting into her from behind, her ass bouncing off his hips.

     “Poor pups already starting to get cock drunk,” Seungmin practically laughed. The three of them had just started drinking so alcohol wasn’t playing such a big role in what was happening, more just relaxed them all a bit.

     Changbin smiled to himself as he picked up his thrusting pace, moving his hands to grip her waist. (Y/n) dropped her head as Changbin’s bruising grip pulled her back to him. Seungmin took the chance to remove his bottoms and let his hard-on out. (Y/n) bent down to take him into her mouth while giving Changbin a new angle to hit deeper in her.

     Seungmin threw his head back as she ran her tongue along his cock head, one hand pumping his shaft before sliding him down her throat. “Such a good girl for us, aren’t ya?” the question was rhetorical but (Y/n) still hummed around Seungmin’s dick in response while also clenching at his praise.

     Both men groaned at the two different feelings. Changbin snuck and hand around her body and played with her clit again. Her moans would’ve been louder if it weren’t for the cock shoved down her throat. She bobbed her on Seungmin’s as she brought her other hand between his legs to play with his balls, making him whimper at the feeling.

      Her head bobbing got sloppy the more Changbin toyed with her clit making Seungmin grab the back of her head and start fucking up into her mouth. Her legs were starting to shake again as she clenched around the cock inside her, hips slightly bucking against his fingers before she came on his cock. Changbins hand left her clit and joined his other on her waist as he and Seungmin chased their highs. 

      Seungmin let his load go in her mouth and pushed her head all the way down as his cum shot into her. Changbin gave himself a few more thrusts in her before pulling out and jacking off till his cum shot out onto her lower back. (Y/n) pulled herself on Seungmin’s cock and swallowed his cum.

     Changbin got up from the couch and walked off to go grab stuff to clean while Seungmin pulled his friend— if they could even still call themselves that after what had just happened— into a softer kiss as he rubbed her sides. (Y/n) sighed in contentment before he pulled away.

     “See, better things to feel than black-out drunk,” he smiled

     “Yeah. Who knew a threesome with my two attractive best friends is what I needed,” (Y/n) smiled back as Changbin came back and cleaned his cum off her back before kissing her shoulder.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[gallierhouse]

Let’s make a quick note of the fact that Armand’s leadership of the coven and his general abuse of power is pretty normal for a theatre director. Like, it’s not perfect, but it’s pretty normal for the director to punish/humiliate the troupe to inspire better performances or enforce obedience. (Here are some examples.) There’s even a TV show about it (Barry, HBO). If you think about it, a theatre is an insular environment with a clear leader (the director) that subjects its participants to long, grueling hours of rehearsal, memorization, prop-building, costume-making, etc. Also, given the timeline for performances, many actors and stage techs end up spending a lot more time working on the production than a 9-5. It’s not uncommon for practice to be ramped up or extended because of an inadequate performance, so people end up staying late at the theatre, arriving early, etc. Furthermore, the nature of theatre demands criticism. There’s never going to be a perfect performance unless the director criticizes actors and makes notes, never going to be a perfect set unless the director gives the techs notes, etc. Ultimately, the performance is always about the director’s artistic vision, so it’s their job to correct and guide actors and techs to that vision. Also, think about the nature of theatre — it’s a performance. It’s inherently public. So when the director criticizes actors or techs, it doesn’t make a lot of sense for them to take the individual backstage and gently correct. It’s more productive to do it in front of everyone so that everyone receives the same note and can integrate it into their work. It’s the same for auditions. It only makes sense for everyone to watch so there’s a sense of meritocracy when the castings come out, like, oh okay, yeah, the lead deserved it because their audition was amazing, and not because of some secret bias. Anyway, put all this together (clear leadership, insular environment, public criticism, public performances and auditions, long hours) and you have a pretty good recipe for a cult. Also, each director will have their own philosophy about acting, and it’s not uncommon for directors to believe that criticism creates better performances, or that actors should actually feel what their characters feel (method acting). This is one wrong turn away from turning into “justified” abuse to generate a good performance (e.g. I’m going to scream at you so you truly feel Hamlet’s anguish and then once you’re shaking and crying and doing a perfect job I’m going to praise you and tell you how much I adore your performance, and this is going to be normal for us.) It’s also a system that has built in rewards. Like, there’s built in punishment (criticism) and built in rewards (roles). It’s all very carrot and stick. Withholding approval, validation, affection, etc. for obedience. It can be cult like.

Going back to IWTV, the coven essentially follows all these conventions. They’re insular and demand an initiation ritual (not out of the norm for troupes, and theirs is honestly pretty mild), engage in public humiliation (Armand criticizing the troupe, singling out Claudia, etc.) and spend long hours together rehearsing (curfew). There’s also this coven mentality that everyone should be grateful because it’s a privilege to participate (why Claudia is forced to wear the dress, because she’s not grateful enough; Sam tells her it’s a privilege to clean up after the shows) That’s cult-like, but it’s also common to theatre. There’s this whole idea that it’s a privilege to perform and a privilege to help, and the director is only abusing you — or sorry, correcting you — because they think you’re worthwhile. It’s out of love. If the director didn’t love you, didn’t see value in you, didn’t believe in you, they wouldn’t bother. They’d just fire you. But if they take the time to punish and correct and criticize? That’s love. That’s something to be grateful for. And it’s unfair and selfish to do anything besides accept the abuse. It’s not only disrespectful to the director, who’s clearly putting in so much effort and love that you’re rudely brushing off, it’s also disrespectful to everyone else putting in the work to support your performance (co-stars, techs, costumes, makeup, etc.). It’s insulting to all of them. You can see how this creates an us vs them mentality — the moment someone steps out of line, not only are they disrespecting the director, who they should be grateful towards, they’re disrespecting the time, effort, and dedication of everyone else. It’s especially bad for Claudia because she’s in a lead role. She’s new, so she’s at the bottom of the pecking order, but she still has the nerve to disrespect everyone, when she should be grateful for the opportunity to lead! Obviously, Claudia isn’t actually ungrateful. She’s just responding normally to the stupid, controlling rules of the coven and Armand’s abuse of power. But no one deep in the coven is going to see it that way, so she gets punished again instead of getting heard out.

Basically, the coven is a lot of things, but one of the things it is is a criticism of the theatre industry. Which makes sense, since the show employs theatre actors and playwrights, who have probably all experienced some degree of this. Being stuck in the same theatre with the same 20-50 people every day for 12 hours is crazy-making, basically. It’s conducive to creating cults, and it’s conducive to abuse. This isn’t to excuse any of the shit the coven of Armand does — it’s all shitty and cruel and abusive and not how a theatre should actually function — but it’s an angle I haven’t seen that many people mention.

[maleyanderecafe]

Kaede, the yandere boyfriend (Oneshot)

Created by: Murasaki yukari/Isako

Genre: Smut

It's been a while since I've done a yandere smut translation, but here we are. This one is actually surprisingly pretty sweet considering that Saya does accept Kaede at the end. Very cute. Originally this was going to be something that was translated with the translation group I'm in, but unfortunately I'm really impatient. As always if you like my work you can always donate to me at kofi.com/lunaslurp.

The story starts out with Saya recalling Kaede's confession to her in university. While she is happy about the confession, she also feels really inadequate next to him, wondering why he confessed to her all this time. During their date, Kaede gives Saya a smartwatch, something she initially refuses due to the fact that she had already gotten another gift from Kaede earlier, a necklace. She eventually agrees to keep it, though she does feel bad about it. At her job, she gets invited by a coworker to go out and eat with the other coworkers. She asks Kaede and after a brief questioning of if there will be any guys, she eventually decides to go. During the hangout, a bunch of guys come in and crash the party, with Saya being too awkward to try to leave. One of the guys starts to talk to her and compliment her, making good conversation about a comedy show they both like. At this point, Kaede starts to call her like crazy, with her watch and necklace buzzing as well. Eventually, Kaede comes in person to drag Saya away from the other people, basically getting jealous and having sex with her. During the sex, Saya asks if Kaede does love her, which he does respond with a happy yes. He also reveals that Saya is actually quite popular with people and that because of this he had to isolate her by getting rid of the other guys. He also mentions that her phone, necklace and watch are bugged with a gps tracking device. While he talks about this, he does seem to feel that Saya is unlucky to be with him, but Saya accepts all of him regardless, happy that he has confessed to her in this way. After some more sex, we get a flashback to when Kaede fell in love with Saya in the first place. Kaede had apparently been involved between some sort of fight between the girls, and was talking to Saya about it. Saya states that he should treat himself with kindness as well just as he treats the girls with kindness and falls for her in that regard. The next day, Saya apologizes to her coworkers for suddenly bailing, giving them the money. Her coworkers ask if that man was her boyfriend, to which she responds happily, even complimenting him ina a lovey dovey way. Upon leaving, Saya finds Kaede evesdropping on the conversation with the earbuds he has on, embarrassed that Saya said such things, presumably for her to hear. The coworkers talk about how Kaede is kind of scary, but if that the two of them are happy, then it's okay.

This story kind of reminds me of Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, “I love you too,” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~, which is the other smut I translated, since they both accept the yandere during sex. Of course, Yandere Killing!! is much more comedic in nature while this one is more sweet, but it is weird that it happened twice. I honestly did think initially that Saya's feelings of inadequacy were actually caused by Kaede, but it actually turns out they both felt they weren't good enough for each other, which kind of adds to that sort of sweet factor when they do end up confessing to each other. Kaede has the general factor of stalking Saya through tracking devices, namely on her various gifts that she was given, so it was cute that in the end Saya basically talked about how much she loved Kaede presumably so that he would hear it as well through the devices. Though as a smut, other than the cuteness factor (both in the story and between the people who made it), I don't really have too much to say. It's cute, the artwork is rather nice and it has some yandere things in it.

Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy this translation. I don't really have much to say about it, but I hope you do read it because I did take the time to translate it. If you have suggests for what yandere manga to translate from Chinese to English let me know.

[crosshairlovebot]

falling for mr. batchbury (part two) / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: your long-awaited reunion with mr. batchbury has finally come, and so do you.

REGENCY AU

word count: 8,107

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing. handj*bs. biting. unprotected s*x. cr*ampie. outdoor s*x. partly clothed s*x. religious comparions.

thank you so much for your support on part one.!! the regency hunter/bad batch art that has come from this has been amazing to see i love it so much!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3

also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART TWO

According to his letters, Mr. Hugo Batchbury earned the nickname “Hunter” due to his uncanny ability to seek out enemy ships and find hidden encampments during the war. You had always known his senses to be more attuned than a normal person, so it seemed fitting for him. And it was why you ventured into your estate’s gardens, knowing he’d be able to find you with ease.

You hurried down the stone steps, lifting the skirt of your gown so you wouldn’t trip as you left the din of the ball behind you. 

The ball had been to celebrate your father’s return from war. Of course, that meant the Batchbury Brothers had also returned, each with a nickname of their own. William had come to be known as ‘Wrecker’ due to his enthusiasm with the ship's cannons. Thomas became ‘Tech’ as his knowledge of engineering and other contraptions was second to none. Carlisle’s superior aim with a pistol had bestowed him with the name ‘Crosshair’. You had read it all in Mr. Batchbury’s letters, which were frequent enough that missing him was only agonising, not excruciating. 

In the years that passed while they were at sea, writing was the only comfort you had – and knowing they served under your father who was a master at his profession. Your heart raced when the footman brought in the post and there was a letter from Mr. Batchbury. Usually, he would write two – one for you and one for Meg. 

His letters to you varied, sometimes they told you of what he’d been doing, sometimes they held a tale from the decks of the ship, some mischief played as they rode the waves. But each contained his voice through written script, the words of the sentences so familiar you could hear them in his voice as you read. 

You fell more in love with him through his letters, and he with you. Each one he sent would always detail his love for you, his eagerness to come home and love you at a nearer distance, his wish to marry you when he returned. It all sent thrills and pangs through you.

My thoughts of you only seem to increase the longer we are apart, he’d once written. My sketchbook has run out of pages, and until I can find a new one to fill, I draw your face in my dreams.

Your entire being longed to be with him.

You would write to him too, but the time between letters being sent and arriving for both of you seemed to grow more extensive as the months and years went on. 

What was it they said, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, your heart's fondness for Mr. Batchbury was so strong it ached. You even requested he send you a self-portrait, just so you could see him face. He’d given it in his next letter – his face so beautifully etched in charcoal, his brow strong over intense black circles of eyes, the curve of his jaw shaded with his birthmark. You had to be careful you didn’t drop tears on it when you gazed upon it.

Meg missed him too – she missed all her brothers dearly, and she followed the papers diligently for news, thrumming with excitement when she received a letter from any of them. She had grown so much in the years that had past. Now eighteen, she had matured into a young lady; she was kind, compassionate and amiable. She was as tall as her brothers and seemed to have absorbed all their best traits too, even if they were far away. 

You had been with her as she watched from the window, waiting for their carriage to arrive the afternoon just gone. She bounced on her toes in excitement while you sat on the lounge nearby, just as excited but simultaneously so anxious to see Mr. Batchbury you felt like you might be ill.

What if he saw you and you were not as he remembered? Or what if he saw you and his feelings for you were merely spurred by distance, and now were non-existent? You knew his heart to be mountainous, but mountains did fall victim to erosion when weathered by strong winds.

When you heard Meg squeal, you had jumped from your thoughts. “They’re here! They’re back! They’re here!”

She raced from the room, and you gaped for a moment before following her, your footsteps just as quick. Despite your anxieties, you were still desperate to see him.

And you father, too. You couldn’t forget about him.

You followed her outside and watched as Meg skidded to a stop as the carriage slowed and the horses stilled. The carriage door was thrown open as William– Wrecker emerged. You knew it was him from his build. He guffawed as he wrapped his arms around Meg, lifting her up and spinning her. You heard Meg laugh as you approached. 

You realised Wrecker now sported an impressive scar from his ear and across one side of his face, an eye patch covering one eye, his head completely shaved. The other brothers filed out of the carriage, Thomas– Tech had a limp and now held a cane on his left side, Carlisle– Crosshair had a burn scar on one side of his head, the same side as the smattering of port wine that splashed over his right eye. He also had a wooden attachment on one hand to replace one he had evidently lost. 

They each had been changed by their time at war, but they still gathered Meg into their arms, their love for their sister eternal.

Your breath hitched when you saw Mr. Batchbury– Hunter move down the carriage steps, his boots crunching on the gravel. 

His hair was longer, and the bandana had changed from bright red to a rich colour that matched his port wine birthmark, but apart from that it was as if no time had passed. How was it possible he looked exactly the same? In fact, he looked even more handsome, as if the time spent in the sea air had not weathered him, but ripened his beauty.

You watched as he held his arms out for Meg, who jumped into them. He smiled into her neck, arms wrapping around her tightly, squeezing. You heard Meg begin to cry into her older brother’s shoulders, her own shaking. Your heart squeezed for her. 

Though her brothers were everything to her, there was something different about her bond with Hunter. He was more than her brother, he was her guardian too, the one she always turned to, the one who had taken her in and cared for her no questions asked. Hunter was Meg’s mountain, and being without him had been harder on her than she liked to admit. Hunter soothed her with gentle shushes, one of his hands running up and down her back. 

“It’s alright, Meg. I’m here now,” you heard him console her gently. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

You felt your eyes sting with tears at the heartfelt reunion. They pulled away, and you watched Hunter wipe away his sister’s tears with the pad of his thumb, a smile matching his misty eyes. You watched his hands grab hers as he took a step back, seeing her stand at his height.

“You’re so big now,” his voice cracked.

Meg laughed lightly, wiping her eyes. “You missed a lot.”

“Too much.” Hunter shook his head. “Never again.”

“Never,” Meg agreed.

“Hey!” Wrecker’s loud voice boomed when he spotted you. “Look who it is!”

You held your breath as Hunter’s eyes landed on yours. You watched the way his eyes and shoulders softened, his mouth parted. You watched his mouth turn up at the side, and the stain on his cheek darken at the sight of you. It appeared his penchant to flush at the sight of you had not changed either.

You flushed. Why had you even been worried again?

You cleared you throat and took a step forward. “The Batchbury Brothers have returned.”

“You bet!” Wrecker cheered. “And in one piece!”

“Speak for yourself,” Crosshair sneered, his remaining hand gripping the wrist of his prosthetic.

“We are, mostly, unharmed,” Tech adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Hunter is the only one of us to remain unscathed.”

Hunter sighed and shook his head. “We all survived. That’s what matters.”

“And we’re rich!” Wrecker laughed proudly.

“I heard about your acquisition of prizemoney,” you said. “Congratulations. It is a great accomplishment for you all.”

“It gives us many opportunities now,” Hunter said carefully, meeting your eyes knowingly. You felt your heartbeat pick up.

Did he…mean…?

You felt your expression lift as you gazed at him hopefully, and you watched his birthmark darken again as he smiled softly at you. The smile conveyed all the love he held for you, steadfast and immovable even after five years, even through a war. Your heart squeezed and you felt as though you might faint.

He did mean that.

“Is my father on his way?” you inquired, slightly breathless as his words danced around your head, the realisation so fanciful it hardly seemed real.

Hunter nodded. “He said he had some paperwork to drop off in London, but he should arrive by this evening.”

“Wonderful,” you breathed, smiling at him with what you hoped conveyed the same amount of love, if not more. 

Now, under the cover of the moon and the ball long behind you, you raced through the maze to the centre of it; the very maze where your love for each other had blossomed. You were breathless, and you could feel the bones of your tight corset cutting into your ribs, but you didn’t care. 

He would be here soon.

“Hey,” you heard his smoky tenor from behind you. You whirled around to see him standing there, holding a lantern he had taken from the courtyard adjacent to the ballroom. Along with a grey waistcoat, he wore his newly tailored dresscoat, black with some red embroidery stitched into the cuffs and collar. His black boots glistened in the light of the moon, and in lieu of his bandana, he wore a red cravat instead.

He looked dashing.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed as you took in the sight fo him.

How was it fair that he looked beautiful in all lights?

He chuckled. “Are we still using such formalities?”

You were unable to hide your smile. “What shall I call you then? ‘Hunter’?” you teased lightly.

You watched as he inhaled sharply, hands that were once relaxed now clenched. “Yes,” he rasped, his eyes never strayed from you. “Hunter is perfect.”

“Very well…Hunter,” you smiled. You liked the way it sounded on your tongue, and Hunter seemed to as well, returning a closed-mouth smile at you as he continued to gaze longingly at you. Your face felt hot as you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. The moment of silence passed through you both. You looked at him before tittering nervously. Hunter cocked his head. 

“What is it?”

“All these years, I thought I would be gushing with things to say, but words have seemed to escape me,” you joked.

Hunter chuckled, a hearty sound, and walked towards you slowly with the lantern before setting it down on the stone bench beside you both. Now, in the dim orange glow, you were close enough to see those familiar brown-grey eyes, unchanged despite the time that passed. 

“It’s been a long time. Far too long,” he murmured, eyes travelling across your face like a caress. You swallowed, flustered by his attentions. 

You wished you were more articulate, but you had missed him so much, it was taking everything in you not to just kiss him, to instead prelude such a thing with pleasantries so it would not be so forward. It had been a long time, and you had only a few hours together where you knew of each others feelings before he left. This whole thing was unfamiliar territory for you. You knew how to be in love with him from afar, from across an ocean, but had no idea how to do it in such close proximity.

“You look well,” you said. It was a severe understatement.

“You look beautiful,” Hunter told you earnestly, his fingertips gently nudged your hands and you let them latch around yours. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm touch against your hands as he held them assuredly, his thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand. “My sketches and my memory did not do you justice.”

You felt butterflies take flight inside you. “I was worried about this part,” you breathed, too overwhelmed to think about the words that now seemed to fly out of you with no hesitation.

Hunter looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

You swallowed again and averted your eyes, focusing on the concrete next to you. “Because I hoped I would still be what you desired, after half a decade.”

Hunter tilted his head as he moved into your eyeline, forcing you to meet his eye as you both lifted your heads again. His brow was furrowed as he tried to understand. “How could you think I would no longer desire you? Did you not read my letters?”

“I did but…things can change,” you told him quietly.

Hunter’s frown deepened and he searched your face before he shook his head. He let go of one of your hands so he could cup the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, his words quiet but sure. 

“Not this,” he told you. “Never this.”

Your heart squeezed. He was not real. He could not be. You loved him so much you thought you might collapse, knees buckling because of how much it consumed you. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, breathing in deeply at how nice it was to hear such a thing. To know his heart remained as mountainous as it was when he left. When you opened your eyes again, you saw his brow was drawn together, his lips pressed together. You needed them on yours desperately.

“No,” you agreed, breathless.

You tilted your chin up a little, gaze falling to his lips, a silent begging for him to kiss you. You watched his eyes move to your lips and his words came out as he stared at them.

“I have something…I need to ask you,” he said slowly, like he was nervous, like he was reciting words he had practised. You felt your whole body ignite. He met your eyes once again. “I suspect you know what it is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper in disbelief. You knew what he was going to ask, and yet you felt yourself thrum with anticipation for hearing the words out loud. “I waited,” you told him.

Hunter nodded, a mirthful smile on his face, like he could hardly believe it either. “You waited.”

You smiled and you both gazed at each other. The warm glow of the lamp lit the side of his face untouched by his birthmark, and the ballroom felt like it was on a different planet, it was so far away. Only the stars were your witnesses above you, glowing dots painting the sky. His hands were warm on you, tethering you to him. It was just the two of you, in the maze – where you both began, and evidently, would be where you continued to be together.

“Marry me.” His husky voice spoke in the space between you, and those two little words made your heartbeat race and your stomach flip over. “Please. I…adore you. It would be my greatest honour to be wed to you.”

Tears of joy stung your eyes, and you unleashed an unbridled smile that you did not dare hold back. You nodded your head quickly, eager to tell him your answer, which you need not take time to consider, you’d had five years after all.

“Yes,” you laughed. “Yes, I will marry you.”

You watched Hunter’s face light up, joy stretching his mouth wide and squishing part of his port wine stain into a triangle on his cheek. He laughed happily as he brought his other hand to your face and pulled you in for your first kiss in five years.

Your hands moved to clutch his lapels as you kissed him back. You had dreamed of kissing him again, and it felt surreal to finally be doing it. His mouth was still as hot, gentle and coaxing as you remember, and you felt yourself pressing into him as he slanted his mouth over yours. You couldn’t stop smiling though, your mouth tipping up involuntarily with your immeasurable happiness as you kissed him. In response, Hunter’s mouth did the same, chuckling before he pulled back. He shook his head and kissed you chastely before he spoke again.

“In the morning, we’ll find the vicar. I don’t want to wait,” he said, his voice hoarse but full of conviction. 

“Neither do I,” you agreed, watching the way the moon illuminated his curls.

“It’s been long enough. To be apart from you for any longer,” he pressed his forehead into yours. “It would be agony.”

“I cannot be without you another moment,” you told him before bringing his lips down to yours again. Hunter groaned as he kissed you, his hands travelling down towards your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fisting the hair there. Hunter groaned again before he wrenched himself back, breathless. Apparently, he still had things to say. Could they not wait? You had struggled with words before, why did he want to say them now when there was kissing to do?

“Your father cannot disapprove of me.” he rushed out, like he was telling himself, reassuring himself. “I am no longer poor. He will let us marry.”

You smiled softly at him. All this doubt he had held, all these thoughts and apprehensions that had held him back before, they no longer existed. There was no war to fight, he was no longer destitute, Meg was well and he’d already set up a trust for her. His brothers were safe. And so was he. Everything had been taken care of. Hunter could finally allow himself to have something that he wanted. Something completely his own that did not require anyone’s opinion or approval. He had been a mountain for everyone, and now the storm had passed, the sun shone on his heart and there was no need to be worried about his family.

Though none of it had been a burden to him, Hunter could finally breathe, and he wanted to fill his lungs with you.

You brushed some hair off his forehead. “Even if he did disapprove, I would marry you anyway. I am yours, in whatever circumstance. I always have been.”

Hunter smiled, his expression soft and full of adoration. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you told him moments before Hunter brought his lips back to yours. 

Hunter wrapped his arms around you and made a soft sound as you pressed into him. You felt his mouth guide yours open, and you let him, trusting him implicitly as he gently moved his tongue against yours. 

You hadn’t kissed him like this before, but the hot wet of his mouth was obscenely wonderful and you were quickly obsessed with how it felt. You tried to stroke your tongue against his in the same motions and felt him moan into your mouth.

“Heavens above,” you felt him mumble as he dragged his mouth away from yours, moving it down your neck as he left open-mouthed kisses across your skin. You tilted your head back, mouth open as you caught your breath, overcome with the feel of his mouth on places you had only read about. You felt between your legs begin to get hot as you cradled his head to your neck, and when you felt him nip at your collarbone, you to let out a high-pitched cry. You were sure you were going to collapse any second. 

“Hunter…” you panted. 

Hunter moved across your collarbone, kissing the swallow of your neck as he did. His hands moved from your waist to hold your ass, his palms squeezing there. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched him move down towards the swell of your breast which spilled up the neckline of your gown, pressed by your corset. 

He kissed the crease between them. “My love, if you will permit me.”

“Do whatever you wish with me,” you hastened to say, desperate for him not to stop.

Hunter did not need to be told twice before he kissed along the neckline, the soft flesh of your breasts meeting his lips. You mewled as his tongue lulled out and licked, before his teeth sunk into them.

“Hunter!” you moaned, head falling back.

You felt his hot breath on your now wet skin. He pulled away with a groan. 

“My love, can I…can I please?” Hunter looked at you.

You blinked, trying to remember how to speak. “Can you what?”

“Can I feel you there? I fear I will perish if I do not,” he begged, eyes pleading like if you refused him, he might actually fall apart.

“I told you, do whatever you wish with me.”

A low sound came from the back of Hunter’s throat as he lowered to his knees in front of you. “Sit down on the bench.”

You followed his instruction and then he bunched up your gown before placing a hand between your legs. When you felt his fingers brush against your extremely wet folds, you whimpered and he groaned, a guttural sound that travelled right to your centre.

“Oh, Christ, you’re fucking drenched,” he rasped, moving his fingers against your seam. You panted, clutching his shoulder as pleasure travelled like lightning through your entire body. “And this is all for me.”

“All yours,” you whispered.

Hunter groaned again and pulled his fingers away. You whined at the loss of touch and then watched as he placed his fingers, wet with your slick, into his mouth. You whimpered as he moaned, his eyes closing as he tasted you.

“God, you’re heavenly.”

“Hunter,” you said breathlessly.

He wet his lips. “Can I taste more?”

“Stop asking and just do it,” you said quickly.

Hunter moved under your gown and you slid towards the edge of the bench a little more, hands gripping the stone as you felt his breath on your pussy. You cried out loudly when the flat of his tongue licked up your folds. The sensation was obscene and you felt like you were ascending when you felt his mouth move on you. You shuddered, indecent sounds coming from you as he licked and sucked, tongue moving across your most intimate part. You said his name like a chant as he moved his mouth and tongue expertly, his arms encircled your thighs, forefingers toying with the edge of your stocking, and you felt his moan vibrate against you. 

“Hunter,” you strangled out, the sensations moving through you taking away your ability to utter anything but his name.

He placed your knees over his shoulders and continued to move his mouth on you. Your grip on the stone bench tightened as you leaned back at a new angle, your nails digging into the grains of the rock as you panted, the pleasure blooming inside you so heavenly you could barely put words to it. 

Hunter’s tongue moved through your folds before he sucked on the small nub there. You jerked, yelping as he run his tongue over it, gently sucking as he continued to pull pleasure from you. You whined as he artfully moved his mouth over you. How was he so good at this? 

You had only read about such things in novels, the descriptions making you blush and tingle all at once as you imagined what it would be like to experience it. You had experimented on your own, of course, too curious to wait until Hunter had returned home to feel the pleasure the heroines felt in your novels. But nothing you did to yourself felt as good as this. 

You clenched your knees around his head and felt your body begin to shudder as the familiar coils of heat began to build in your stomach, but this time more intense than what you’d felt on your own. 

“Hunter,” you told him breathlessly, intending to say more but the words felt like they were floating in a mist above you, and every time you tried to grasp them, they alluded you. “I’m–”

You heard him groan under your skirts, voice muffled between your thighs and under the silks. “Let go.”

You felt his tongue flick that nub, his hands on your thighs tightening as he performed one last ministration that caused that pleasure to erupt from you. You cried out, hands clutching the bench so hard you thought there might be indents in the stone as you came apart on his tongue. Your legs shook and your chest heaved as you moaned and whined, head thrown back as Hunter’s tongue lapped at you. You weren’t sure if the stars above you were real, or ones he had made you see. 

As the pleasure waned and your body’s aftershocks slowed, you felt Hunter remove your legs from his shoulders and he fumbled with your skirts as he re-emerged. His curls were a mess, and the port wine stain on his cheek was flushed a deep purple from the heat of being under your skirts. He panted, his mouth glistening with your slick, but his eyes were bright, invigorated, like performing cunnilingus on you had energised him. He licked his lips and smiled lovingly at you.

“Amazing,” he told you, his tone awed. “Is that the first time you’ve come?”

You felt heat rise up your neck. “No.”

Hunter’s eyes widened in surprise. “No?”

“Well, I got very tired of waiting for you.” You shrugged innocently despite your face flaming. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Christ,” he said, the words scratching out of his throat roughly. “Are you serious?”

You met his pleading eyes. “Yes.”

Hunter buried his head in your lap and groaned. “I can’t believe I had to stay away so long.”

“Never again.”

“Never again.” He leaned up and kissed you languidly, and you could taste yourself on his lips. 

He stayed kneeling on one knee between your legs, your skirts bunched up to your hips as he kissed you, his hands moving up your body back to your breasts. You gasped when his fingers curled around the neckline of your bodice, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast, skin burning. 

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the edge of the neckline. “Please.”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you practically begged him. 

You felt his hands go to the ties at the back of your dress, and he deftly tugged them loose as he brought his mouth to yours again. You felt the fabric of your dress loosen before he retreated to pull the dress off from the front, moving it down your arms. You watched as Hunter rumpled the fabric and threw it to the side so it was out of the way. 

You were glad the night was warm, now that you were only in your corset over your chemise and stockings. You watched the garment fall to the ground as Hunter let out a growl of frustration.

“Why are there so many layers? I need more of your skin on my mouth,” he grumbled. You giggled as he started to unlace your corset.

“What is it they say? Patience is a virtue?”

“I’ve never been virtuous and I’m not about to start now,” Hunter rasped as he opened your corset, your breasts falling to their natural position under your chemise as they were no longer held up by your stays. You let out a breath of comfort. 

Hunter smiled ruefully. “Better? How tight did your maid tie you up?”

“Tighter than usual. I had someone to impress.”

Hunter grinned and kissed your breasts through the thin cotton, your nipples tightening and pointing through the fabric. “I’m always impressed by you.”

You smiled and kissed him once more before pulling away. “It hardly seems fair that I’m almost indecent while you’re basically fully dressed.

Hunter laughed heartily, a sound that made your chest squeeze. He kept smiling at you, still on one knee between your legs as he pulled off his coat, bunching it up and throwing it into a pile with your dress. He pulled off his cravat roughly and started to unbutton his waistcoat when your hands reached out to stop him.

“Let me,” you told him quietly and your fingers brushed his. You started undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, quiet between you. You felt his eyes on you as you unbuttoned and when you looked up to slide the garment off his shoulders, he was gazing at you with this look you couldn’t decipher. Perhaps it was adoration. 

You threw the waistcoat on the pile and Hunter was only left in his shirt, breeches and his boots. You smiled as you ran a hand slowly down the neckline of his shirt, your fingers touching his sternum and the nest of dark curly hair there. You remember watching him train in this years ago, and now here you were.

You met his eyes and watched his eyes smile at you, softening at the sides as he started to untuck his shirt and unbutton it, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You watched, mesmerised as Hunter shrugged the shirt off and revealed his bare chest. You took in a breath as you realised how muscular and broad he was. The tendons of his shoulders and collarbones were taut and strong, and his stomach flat except for the raised muscles in a six formation. His hair extended across the expanse of his chest and down into his breeches, but what surprised you the most was the port wine stain that appeared on his face also travelled down his torso, painting one side of his chest a beautiful burgundy across his brown skin. You traced your fingers across the outline and watched the way he shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting across his skin. He was sculpted by the Gods; Michaelangelo had surely modelled the statue of David from him. 

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, fingers trailing down his chest before you met his eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips.

Hunter’s eyes widened for a moment at your declaration before his lips twitched, like they itched to smile. He placed his hands on the sides of your thighs, the thin cotton a poor barrier for the heat of his hands as he rubbed circles into your skin. 

“You think so?” he replied quietly, like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Yes,” you told him, your smile turning big. “Heavenly. That’s what you are.”

Hunter studied for face, his expression pensive before he spoke.

“I’ve heard people say this–” his fingers skimmed his face and down his chest, knocking yours, “–is the mark of the devil.”

You frowned. “Who said that?”

“People. When we were children. I…faced ridicule. And in turn, it marked my brothers. It got worse when Crosshair was born, and the stain across his eye became known. We were outcasts already, but this made it worse.”

Your heart broke thinking of Hunter as a child, facing ridicule for something he could not control, for something that made him unique. If he was protective over his family now, you could only imagine back then. What a silly superstition. How could anyone look at Hunter, see how he was with his family and with others, and think he was anything but an angel? No mark upon his face should dictate who he was. 

You shook your head and pressed your hand against the centre of his chest, right above his heart. You felt it beat steadily under your palm, the rhythm matching yours. You met his eyes.

“They could not be more wrong,” you told him softly in earnest.

You felt his heartbeat speed up underneath your palm, making you smile. You watched an expression pass through his face. Was it relief? You felt his hands on your thighs squeeze before he captured the hand that lay on his chest between both of his and kissed your palm softly.

“That’s…very nice to hear.” You heard his voice break a little as he spoke, his mouth pulling into a sincere smile that conveyed so much love, you felt you might burst with it.

Hunter leaned in and captured your lips in his once more, this kiss slow and passionate as it told you without words the depth of his feelings for you. You pulled him closer as you deepened the kiss. You let him drape your arms around his neck, and he shifted so his hands grabbed your hips. He pulled away only for a moment, his lips murmuring into yours.

“‘M gonna switch us,” he mumbled. You only nodded, and a laugh rippled from you as Hunter hoisted your body against his. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he swiftly switched your places, so he sat on the bench and you straddled his lap. Hunter pulled you in so your centre was pressed against the ties of his breeches. It was a scandalous feeling that flowed through you as felt Hunter’s bulge against you. You gasped as he let out a strangled sound. You pulled back to look at him, a mix of an amused and tortured smile on his face as he looked up at you.

“Oh, I like this position,” you told him.

“Yeah? Me too,” he said and buried his head in your neck, kissing there as he pulled your body against his again, rocking you into the hardness of him through the cotton of your chemise. You moaned, feeling your folds slick again, despite only coming a mere five minutes ago.

“Hunter, I need you,” you told him. 

Hunter groaned into your collarbone. “I need you too. I’m out of patience.”

You felt him shift his hold on you, so one hand held you at the small of your back and kept you from sliding off him, and the other quickly untied the fastenings of his breeches and shifted them down slightly. You slid a hand down between you, fingers knocking against his as you felt his cock spring up against his stomach. You gasped when your fingertips brushed his length, the skin hot and hard. He groaned and wrapped his hand around your wrist.

“Please.” His voice practically trembled. 

You looked at him and watched the way his eyebrows had slanted down at the ends, his mouth parted. You slowly grazed your fingernails against his length and he jerked underneath you.

“Christ,” he panted.

You wrapped your hand around his length, the way you’d read about, and you heard him groan. Both his hands went to your back, clutching the gaping fabric of your chemise. The way he was reacting only made your stomach tighten and your folds flood with wetness. And you’d barely touched him. 

You looked down between you and saw the head of his cock had pooled with precum already. You circled your thumb over the small slit there, coating it and Hunter hissed, head burying in your neck and teeth biting the meat of your shoulder. You moaned, heat running through you. The hilt of his cock was nestled with dark curls and you shifted your hand down and up. Hunter cried out, head falling back as he looked at you, eyes bleary.

“My love, I’m so worked up right now, I will not last if you keep doing that.”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “This?”

You moved your hand again the same way, squeezing a little this time, and Hunter’s eyes screwed shut as he yelped again, shifting your body closer to his. Your centre chaffed against your chemise which rubbed against his cock.

“Christ.” His neck strained before he reached up and smoothed a hand over your hair. “I need to be inside you.”

Nerves and excitement fluttered through you at his words. You had read about such things, of course, and had wanted so badly to experience sex with Hunter, but now being presented with the very situation you had dreamed of happening with Hunter filled you with uncertainty. You wanted this to go right, for him to enjoy himself with you.

“I need that too,” you told him.

“It…It might hurt a little at first,” he said, hand smoothing your hair again. “We’ll go slow. And you tell me to stop and I will.”

You smiled at his concern, his care. “I trust you.”

Hunter smiled at you and pulled you in for a lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Lift up for me, sweet girl.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and raised yourself on your knees, the stone bench beneath them digging in a little as butterflies swooped in your stomach. Hunter lifted you against him, hands under your thighs as he moved you both to the ground.

“Next time we do this, it will be in a bed,” he told you, his voice light with mild annoyance. You laughed as he lay you back against the pile of clothes you had created, a makeshift mattress out under the stars.

You looked at him as he leaned over you, body in between your legs, dark curls falling over his shoulders and hanging down. The lantern by the bench provided a warm orange glow, but the moon did most of the work, lighting up his hooked nose and gorgeous face. With the stars behind him, you placed his hair behind his ear with a smile, in awe of him.

“What is it?” he asked, mouth lifting into a smile. You felt the lines of his smile stretch under your hand on his cheek.

“I love you,” you told him simply because it explained everything.

He smiled, and you felt his skin heat before he bent to kiss you once more. He kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours before he pulled back. His eyes stayed on you, a soft reassuring expression as he bunched your chemise around your hips, spread your legs so you were completely open to him and positioned himself. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt him at your entrance.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asked, his voice as soft as his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath before nodding and biting your lip.

Hunter nodded and in a hushed voice, told you to try and relax as he slowly pushed in. He moaned, face screwed as he sunk himself inside you, hands tightening on your hips. Despite your slickness, the stretch caused some pain to bolt through you and you hissed, your hands curling around his forearms.

Hunter immediately stopped, eyes flying open as he looked down at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and took a breath. “Keep going.”

Hunter watched your expression as he slowly moved further in until he was fully seated inside you. You screwed your eyes shut, fingernails digging into his arms, and you felt one of his hands rub up and down your thighs as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. It was full feeling, but not overly uncomfortable. The books you’d read glossed over this part. 

You felt embarrassed, waiting a moment for your body to be okay to keep going and opened your eyes as you rushed to say, “I’m sorry, I’m just–”

“Hush,” Hunter told you, silencing you gently, his expression soft. “We have all the time in the world.”

You let out a breath before he continued, mouth tipping up at the side. “Though the way you’re squeezing me…”

You grinned, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Good?”

“Incredible,” Hunter sighed.

You both laughed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hunter brushed some strands of hair back as he looked down at you and you felt yourself and your anxieties ease. He was so incredibly special.

You shifted underneath him as your body had grown used to him. “I think you can move now.”

“Nice and slow,” he confirmed with you.

Both you and Hunter made sounds of pleasure as he started to rock into you, pulling out a little before moving back in, the movement becoming more fluid and easy as he kept going. Hunter’s grip on your hips guided the movements, and you moaned as the nub of your folds bumped against him.

“Christ, you’re so pretty like this,” he told you as you moved your hips against him to match his thrusts. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

He bent to kiss you once more as he slid inside you again. His hips rolled into yours in easy languid motions, his cock moving in and out of you. You moaned, fingers clawing his back as he began to quicken his movements, thrusts now steady and hard as the pleasure built inside you. You stockinged legs coming up and sliding around his waist, one ankle pushing in at the small of his back to pull him in deeper. 

Sex with Hunter was much better than anything you had ever read, better than your own fingers. His thrusts confident yet never painful, his hands firm but never hurting. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you was unbelievable, and you were so glad you were able to experience such a thing with him. That he survived the war, and your love for each other had endured. And now, under the stars, he took you in a way that showed all his love for you. 

You’d both been patient for this, and he may have said he had never been virtuous, but the way he was making you feel right now felt religious; the feverent way he held you and loved you was almost sacramental, the angel he was. 

Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened and you watched the way his need for you eclipsed his features. It was an expression you liked and wanted to see more of. His pupils blown, mouth parted, hair messy. It pleased you to know that you made him like that.

The only sounds that filled the night were both of your moans and groans and the slap of Hunter’s hips against the backs of your thighs. Hunter’s movements increased, as did the husky sound that came from the back of his throat with each one. Hunter’s grip moved to take your hands from his shoulders, pressing them next to your head as he laced your fingers together. Each thrust buried him inside you, the hilt of his cock brushing your nub enough that you felt the heat in you rising, coiling in your stomach. It was intoxicating, and you never wanted him to stop.

“I’m…I’m so close, my love,” Hunter panted, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow in the moonlight.

“As am I,” you told him breathlessly, hands squeezing his.

“Where?” he asked, and you felt him twitch inside you, on the cusp of it.

You were familiar with the question; your novels prepared you for this part. “Inside,” you told him without an ounce of hesitation.

Hunter groaned, his pacing stuttering. “Are you certain? It could–”

“Yes,” you cut him off. “Please. I know the risk and I am unbothered by it.”

Hunter’s face fell into your neck, groan vibrating against your skin, teeth nipping there gently. “Christ,” you heard him mumble. “You’ve ruined me.”

After several deep thrusts that you felt hit the furthest part of your core, he faltered and you heard him cry out as he stilled, and you felt him spill inside you. His hands tightened on yours, palms pressing together they may as well be fused. 

You gasped, moaning as he shuddered above you, no longer able to hold his weight fully, he let himself drape his body on top of yours. Warmth pooled between your legs, and you rolled your hips against the hilt of his cock. Hunter hissed at the moment as he caught his breath, lifting his head to look at you with hooded eyes. Hunter stayed seated inside you as he slowly unlaced his hands from yours so he could shift off you slightly and lift himself up enough to slide a hand between your bodies. 

“Your turn,” he told you before he slanted an open mouth kiss over your lips as his fingers brushed your nub, making you jerk and gasp into his mouth. 

His fingers circled there slowly at first before they increased, rubbing with his fore and middle fingers which were coated in your slick. You felt the pleasure rising rapidly and you barely had time to say anything before you fell over the edge, that pleasure erupting from you as you cried out, mouth open under his and eyes shut. You shuddered and writhed underneath his body as he drew out your orgasm, legs trembling as you squeezed his length still inside you, making him moan into your mouth. The feeling was indescribable, more intense than your previous orgasm had been, and you clutched at his forearm and shoulder, wishing this feeling never came to an end.

You were completely his, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then his fingers slowed, and your body came down from its peak, limbs feeling like jelly. You opened your eyes to see his brown ones staring back at you, noses knocking as you both smiled, feeling each other lips stretch with your own.

Hunter placed one last kiss on your lips before he pulled back. You laughed lightly, too happy to fully conceal it. You pushed his hair back and bit your lip. Hunter smiled down at you, birthmark flushed, then bent to kiss your cheek. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Your face heated as he slowly slid out of you, the loss of him a dull ache as your body readjusted to the empty feeling. Hunter rose to his knees and tucked himself back into his breeches before reaching out to adjust your chemise, hands running down your stockings once he had. He smiled and shook his head at you.

“You should see how you look right now,” he said, a rueful expression painting his face.

Your hands flew to your cheeks, pressing your fingers against the hot skin. “Why?”

“You’re an angel,” he said, fumbling for his cravat to wipe you and his fingers with.

“No, you are,” you told him as the silk fabric slid across your folds.

Hunter laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Did I go too hard?”

“You were perfect,” you assured him, the soreness between your thighs a common symptom post-coitus, according to your books. 

Hunter lay next to you and propped up on his elbow and you turned a little to face him, smile unable to leave your face. He smiled lovingly at you, and you at him. He opened his mouth when a deep baritone bellowed from somewhere outside the maze.

“Hunter! You better get back here! The Commodore’s looking for his daughter!” Wrecker’s voice carried over the hedges.

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. Hunter smiled and shook his head.

“We better go,” he said, sitting up then standing and holding a hand out to you.

“How long have we been gone?” You asked, taking his hand. Hunter pulled you up with such strength you fell forward into his arms, pressed against his chest. He caught you easily.

“Long enough,” he said. “Can’t keep him waiting.”

You looked up at him reassuringly when you saw his expression turn thoughtful, hands on his upper ams and circling the skin there with your thumbs. “He will be pleased.”

Hunter smiled at your words and you returned it before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll need your help to lace me up.”

Hunter’s smile turned into a grin, his teeth white in the moonlight. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are,” you told him placing your lips to his one last time before the secret of the two of you would be revealed, and your always with Hunter began.

this is the last part of falling for mr. batchbury, but please let me know if you would like to see more of the batchbury brothers...because these are a delight to write! otherwise, i have more fics coming so stay tuned! thank you for reading and supporting me!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez

TAGLIST FORM

[williamy3w]

Heya Henry, have you ever considered selling Big Red Box merch? I know we all would love to rep the band lol! I know you can't put stuff into the outside world, but there's lots of websites nowadays that let you upload an image and print out the merch for you! You could even get Will to travel to them if that's safer. Here's an example: https://www.printful.com

hi ! so r ry i t took a while. that's a p retty distant fr eq ency from my own... but we mad e some !

will w en t a l i tt l e cr a z y with putting th e album cov e r on sh ir t s an d th in g s.

I think if ya wanna be able to look real spiffy, you oughta!

and even @fortunateisle con tr ib ut e d a l itt l e!

if th ere 's any th in g you all want in par ti cul ar, feel free to l et us know!

By the way, darlin', did you make these ones? 'heaven is a radio station'?

huh. n o? i th ought you d id.

Nope! Didn't feel like somethin' you would say, neither.

hmm. str an ge. well, they' r e all go in g tow ar ds keeping the li ght s on aroun d here, so I don't necess ar ily min d it. i guess.

The more the merrier, what I always say!

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

06/11/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Nathan Foad; Vico Ortiz; Rachel House; AdoptOurCrew Message; Pink News; #MoonGlowingWithPride; TellTaleTV Round 3 Reminder; Watch Parties; Articles; Fan Spotlight; LoveNotes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

== Rhys Darby ==

More pictures of Rhysie outside and in the hot tub! Is that an OFMD hat I spy?

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram Stories

== Nathan Foad ==

Nathan posting cute pics on IG again.

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico is attending Dyke Day LA!

Source: Vico Ortiz Instagram Stories

== Rachel House ==

More pics with Rachel at the Sydney Film Festival!

Source: sarussellwords Instagram

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Did you know it's the 6 month anniversary of the first cancellation? Our AOC Crewmates sent out a lovely message.

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Instagram

== Pink News ==

Have I mentioned how much I love Pink News lately?

Source: Pink News Twitter

== #MoonglowingWithPride ==

Our absolutely stellar crewmate @xray-vex is leading a new way to celebrate queer joy, community and healing! Please join him and other crewmates on June 20-21, 2024 for the OFMD Full Moon & Solstice Event! See more information below!

Source: @xray-vex's Twitter

== Tell Tale TV Round 3 ==

Round 3 is up! This is the final round! Thank you to @ofmd-ann for these adorable graphic reminders! Please vote here and often!

Source: OFMD-ANN's Tumblr

== Watch Parties ==

Good Omens Season 2

Dates: June 10-14, 2024

Times: 3:30 pm PT, 6:30 pm ET, 11:30 pm BST

Episodes: M-Th: 1-4, F: 5-6

Where: RhysDarbyFaction Discord Server

Need access? Reach out to @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

== Articles ==

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Tonight's Cast Card from our sweet @melvisik is Eliza Jiménez Cossio, one of our writers!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

More Our Flag Means Pride pages from @patchworkpiratebear and distributed by @adoptourcrew! I'm very excited to colour in the Rosy Maple Moth!

Source: AdoptOurCrew and PatchworkPirateBear's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Happy Taika Tuesday Lovelies. I gotta be honest, I'm not sure what to say tonight. I'm feeling very raw about a lot of different things, fandom related and home related. So tonight, what I'd like to do is share with you a mindfulness poem by Thich Nhat Hahn called "The River of Feelings".

" There is a river of feelings within us, and every drop of water in that river is a feeling. To observe our feelings, we sit on the bank of the river and identify each feeling as it flows by. It may be pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. One feeling lasts for a while, and then another comes. Meditation is to be aware of each feeling. Recognize it, smile to it, look deeply into it, and embrace it with all our heart. If we continue to look deeply, we discover the true nature of that feeling, and we are no longer afraid, even of a painful feeling. We know we are more than our feelings, and we are able to embrace each feeling and take good care of it. - Thich Nhat Hanh"

Our feelings are very important lovelies. Bad feelings are just as important as good ones. The more we understand them, the more we understand ourselves and others as well. Please be kind to yourself tonight crew. Tomorrow is a new day.

Img Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is balls. Gifs courtesy of the brilliant @ofmd-ann and @neverswungonswingingstars

[butchfeygela]

A single unit was founded by Neo-Nazis years and years but they literally have Jewish members now, it's not been Nazi-affiliated in ages. And even if they were, Ukraine also has units with queer insignia, idk how to tell you this but they're a country undergoing mass murder, rape, and kidnapping of their children, which is a pretty good motive for casting a wide net. Somehow you don't seem to treat Palestine and Hamas like this even though Hamas is much more "in charge" than a few Nazis in one unit from a decade ago are in Ukraine. Somehow you can find it in your heart to ignore Hamas's hostility to all Jewish people and the other atrocities they commit in order to support Palestinians - as you should, supporting Palestinians is good! But I wonder why that doesn't apply to this other conflict, unless, perhaps, your political north star is just to go the opposite of whatever the iMpErIaL cOrE supports.

Like if you're not behind giving Ukrainians the things they need to fight a war you're either malicious, stunningly ignorant, or both. That's it. That's how it is. You do not care about the lives of other people. Period. And it's hilarious to me that you tried pulling "I just focus on one thing because this other thing gets enough attention already" just to tack on at the end that no you really don't think it's a valid cause and you wouldn't give a fuck no matter what else was going on.

oh cool you actually just suck if youre still out here pushing the 'Hamas hates all jews' concept. go read their current charter

also like groups still touting the iconography used by nazis are in fact alligned w nazis. sorry im not in favor of the US giving weapons to people who as recently as 2018 where violently carrying out attacks against rroma and LGBT and want to 'cleanse europe of the semetic horde'. i spent awhile talking about ukraine and russia a few years back when there werent actively 3 US funded genocides acutely occuring in the public eye. The US loves to arm a far-right ultranationalist militia to fight russia, its like their favorite thing

and ths US litterally dropped any restrictions on arming azvov 2 days ago (but i geuss its fine when azvov takes captives and rapes them right? bc theyre fighting russia)

how long will it take the world to learn that you can hate the state of russia without supporting nazis bc this has been happening ad-infinitum since nazi germany itself

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (11)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Authors' Note: Brief mentions of homophobia, bullying, and attempted suicide, as well as suggestive themes ahead. Finally, I wanted to do a shout-out to these underrated RE characters appearing in my fic: let’s hear it for my boys, Patrick (Infinite Darkness) and Kevin Ryman (Outbreak)! 🥰

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 11: Hideous

Given how things had blown up between you and Leon in public, it was only natural that word of your outburst had gotten around. Within a few minutes, you had been accosted by an irate-looking man and his entourage kindly informing the both of you, “If you can’t control yourself on these grounds, then perhaps Elysium is not the place for you.”

Were you always meant to suffer in silence? Why was it so highly lauded? Would you win some sort of prize for not running around, kicking and screaming your lungs out? The one thing you knew, though, was that at least for tonight, you had been humiliated and ungraciously banished from Elysium.

Having to make the journey back home with Leon made your skin crawl, but you survived it, like you always do. It seemed as if every time you took a step forward, something would come around and set you two steps back. Like a Russian doll, opening the closet revealed not just a single skeleton, but countless piles hidden within layers upon layers of boxes. You were tired of this charade, tired of what else might lie beneath the earth, if you dug a little deeper.

You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear him say, “I gave the documents to the Tremere Primogen.” It was quiet and unassuming, without any fanfare. He didn’t expect it to absolve him of his sins, but he just wanted you to know that he hadn’t played God and condemned another this time.

Was it too late? You never liked things being so finite, but you were tempted to end it there and then. However, a question lingered on your mind. “Who is Sherry?”

You were back at his apartment and he had busied himself cleaning the glasses you had drunken out from earlier to avoid addressing the elephant in the room. One of them slipped out of his hands, landing with a thunk at the bottom of the sink as the water continued running from the tap. 

His time with you was up; judgment had finally come for him. He had made a promise to you a few nights ago to always be honest with you, and he was going to keep it, regardless of the consequences. Shutting off the tap, he gripped the sides of the metallic basin. A knot in his chest tightened and he felt like he was suffocating.

“She was one of the vessels,” he admitted, and without further prompting, he revealed the detail that would damn him the most, “I found her when she was 8 years old.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he heard your loud gasp as fat tears streaked down his face. Everything he had was lost in a matter of seconds. If by some miracle you hadn’t already hated him before, you would hate him for the rest of his unlife now. Blood pooled in his mouth as he bit down hard on his tongue.

“You’re—”

He turned around, facing you for the first time since you’d gotten back. “A monster? Yes, that’s what I am.”

“Why?” You felt the air escape your lungs with a hiss, as if through a puncture wound.

He didn’t want to make any more excuses. You knew what was implying when he simply replied, “For Ada.”

There was nothing else left to hide. He had laid everything bare before you. You saw him as who he was now, in all his vulnerability. Just a man who had chipped away at his soul to be loved and, along the way, convinced himself that this was all there was to it.

The expression on your face hardened, eyeing him like he would never be redeemed. It was the final straw and whatever shred of empathy you had for him was gone. He would do anything to win you back, going down on his knees, begging and groveling, but you had already made up your mind. He just didn’t want to see you say it.

So, he was back at the sink again, holding the glass that had fallen in earlier with a shaky hand. He mouthed the words as you uttered them, as though he knew it by heart.

“When all of this is over, I’m leaving you for good.”

Minutes ticked away into hours. You had already gone to bed, while he stared down the basin, like a bottomless pit reflecting back into him. He didn’t even wince when the glass crushed in his hand, its shards piercing and embedding into his skins as thick, dark red blood ran in rivulets to his fingertips. He watched as it dripped like black tar heroin into the drain, at the same time, wondering, Is that all there is?

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your mind was all over the place at the cafe. It wasn’t like you to forget the program lineup, as well as the logistics of what needed to go where. You even ended up creating a mess when it came to sorting out the lighting and sound tech for the cabaret show that evening. Your colleagues shot you concerned looks as you walked around in a daze like a zombie.

“Do you think she’s burnt out?”

“Probably having an off night.”

“She’s always been a bit of a workaholic.”

Funny how Auspex just kicked in for you naturally now, and you could hear snippets of conversation from people who thought they were being so secretive.

Feeling a hand on the back of your shoulder and you spun around, coming face-to-face with Patrick. “Hey, why don’t you take it easy tonight?” he suggested. “I could cover for you. Besides, you’re the boss here.”

“One of them,” you corrected, as you stubbornly continued to unwind the equipment cords, plugging them in along the marked out areas on stage.

“Yeah, but er, the rest aren’t as active,” he reasoned.

“So?” You shrugged, heading off to the other end of the stage to check on the mic stands.

Like an obedient puppy, he continued tailing you, following closely behind. “Something’s off with you…” He wrinkled his nose. “Is it Leon?”

Upon hearing his name, you fumbled with the mic, nearly dropping it if not for your Celerity-induced reflexes. “Fuck, shit!” You held onto the stand, stabilizing yourself as you pressed your lips into a thin line.

“Alright, that’s it,” he stated sternly, prying the mic and stand away from your grip. “Head out back and I’ll join you — the usual spot.”

Before you could open your mouth to protest, he already signaled for another employee to take over. “I mean it,” he scolded. “You’re not lifting another finger.”

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair which had begun to stick along the sides of your face in the humidity. Was the ventilation system broken again?

"I can still see you thinking about work," he said, narrowing his eyes and using both hands to shoo you away from the stage.

You made a fuss and grumbled, but did as you were told and went out into the cold alleyway. Sitting alongside a curb, you stretched out your legs and waited for Patrick to arrive.

“Hm, Gauloises,” you heard his voice coming from behind as you fiddled with the cigarette pack. “Fancy.” He plopped down beside you.

There were only two sticks left now, as you’d chain-smoked the rest in the last nights. In fact, you’d gone through a bunch of them on the way to work. You couldn’t get any nicotine high out of it, but the feel and taste of them against your lips comforted you.

“Wanna split the last two?” You extended the pack towards him.

“Sure.” He fished one out, lighting it straight away before helping you with yours. You tried to hold back your flinching. “Where’d ya get them from anyway?”

“Leon’s ex.”

“Oh,” he coughed out, choking on the smoke. “Well, that must’ve been awkward.” Cocking an eyebrow at you, he suggested, “Is this what it’s about then? He’s got his panties in a twist after seeing her?”

Sort of, but not really. “More like, skeletons in the closet, y’know?” You exhaled a long train of smoke, which coiled and entwined like tendrils in the air.

“Right.” He paused, growing unusually silent as if contemplating on something. “And you’re wondering if he’s a good guy.”

You locked eyes with him, probing for answers. How the fuck did you know? you wanted to ask.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t always like this,” he offered.

“You mean, this annoying?” you jested, snickering as he smacked your arm with the back of his hand.

“Hey, fuck you.” He wagged his finger in your face. “And I meant being comfortable with who I am, liking both men and women — that sort of thing.”

Patrick had moved to Raccoon City from a small town in the middle-of-nowhere, and you could only imagine how it must’ve been like living in a place where the community encroached upon everything that you did. Stifling, was the word.

“I’ve done some stuff in the past I’m not proud of,” he continued. “People can really make some fucked up decisions when put in a situation.”

“You don’t say…” you trailed off as your lips curled into a cynical half-smile.

He glanced over at you skeptically and huffed, “What if I told you that I outed a guy I was in love with, because I didn’t want to get caught?”

You frowned, considering his words as you stared at your smoldering cigarette which had disintegrated into a stub.

“That I bullied and ostracized him after we kissed, just so I could cover my tracks?” he added. “It got so bad that he had to move away. And the last I heard, he tried to—”

You saw him clench his jaw as he cleared his throat, wringing his hands uneasily. He didn’t need to complete his sentence for you to know what he was alluding to.

“Am I a good guy, then?” he forced out, his voice tense and paper-thin, like a razor blade slicing through flesh.

You mulled over what he had shared with you as the crisp, icy wind nipped at your cheeks and your breath came out in misty puffs. “You’re a good friend,” you finally determined.

He draped his arm around your shoulders, jostling you a little as you smiled at each other in understanding. “I can’t change what I did back then,” he conceded. “But what matters is what I do next. At least, that’s what I tell myself.”

Bumping his head playfully against yours, he posed a final question, “So, what’s Leon like now?”

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Feign to the right!”

“There you go.”

“Hold your guard up!”

A string of commands were barked out by the beefy brunette man in front of you, while you worked up a sweat, throwing quick jabs at him as he countered them with ease. You kept your feet light and springy, deftly ducking and sidestepping as he aimed a roundhouse kick at your ribs.

“Nice one!” his sister yelled through her cupped hands at the sidelines.

For a brief moment, you got distracted and found Chris’ fist landing squarely on your jaw in a brutal left hook which sent you sprawling to the ground. 

“Ow…” you groaned, rubbing the side of your face sorely as you scrambled to your feet.

Your mentor folded his arms, throwing you a harsh look as he admonished, “What did I say about blind spots?”

“Never have your back to the enemy,” you recited monotonously. “Always be aware of your surroundings.”

“Hey, Chris, lighten up will ya?” the redhead called out. “She’s doing just fine for a start.”

He sucked his teeth in response before spitting sharply at his side onto the dusty ground. “Fine, take five,” he relented. “We’ll work on some drills next.”

“Well, he wasn’t lying when he said he doesn’t go easy,” you muttered as Claire jogged up towards you.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a pusher,” she explained, shrugging apologetically. “Used to be in the military.”

“Not surprised.” 

You peered around the vast, minimalistic space you were in. It was an industrial warehouse at the west end of Euston Street that had been converted into a makeshift gym. The bare, unpainted walls and stripped back decor gave it an illicit vibe akin to an underground fight club. Aggressive, punk rock music blared from the stereos, accompanied by the rhythmic clunks of metal hitting the ground as the weightlifters in their muscle tanks did their reps. 

From what you could see, it appeared to be a popular Anarch hangout, with the majority of them likely coming from the Brujah clan. The other Kindred at the corners of the room eyed you suspiciously as they wrapped their hands in strips of cloth for sparring practice. There were talks of you being a Cammy spy, fears that the Redfields tried to allay.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s with us,” they said, pulling you along behind them as they got bombarded with questions, which they took in their stride.

“Yeah, Leon’s childe.”

“Yes, that Leon. The one and only, you idiot.”

“So? He got to her first. Sucks to be you.”

It seemed like Leon’s name carried a certain weight to it. He must’ve been relatively respected within their social circles. You still couldn’t imagine him hanging around areas like this. It seemed too ‘unrefined’ for someone of his standing.

“I showed Leon a few tricks back in the day,” Chris boasted, his eyes twinkling with a faraway look as he recalled fond memories. 

“The same tricks you’re gonna teach me, right?” you prompted, trying your luck.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Gotta say, I like your spunk, kid. But you don’t have any basic training,” he pointed out. “So, learn to walk before you run.”

And that’s how you ended up here, being pushed to your limits as Chris dumped exercise after exercise onto you, and gave you an ass whooping during one of the practice fights. You were exhausted by the end of it, collapsing in a heap on the dirt floor, as you wiped the sweat and grime off your brow.

In fact, you found out that you actually weren’t as strong as you thought you were. The time you ripped off Leon’s bedpost was an anomaly. You’d probably triggered a Blood Surge without knowing, which temporarily buffed your physical strength. Another way was to learn the Potence Discipline, which came naturally to Brujahs and some other clans, but not yours. However, in order to do that, you would need to find the right teacher who possessed those Disciplines and drink from them before your lessons could begin. That was not something you were prepared to do, though Chris had mentioned a third way, and that was by training with the blood to enhance your physical capabilities.

“Rough night, huh?” One of the Kindred who’d been watching you from the start approached, uncapping what looked like a plastic water bottle, but topped up with blood instead.

“Yeah, I’m kinda new to all of this actually,” you replied modestly.

“Well, you got a tough trainer.” She squatted next to you, gulping down the liquid in satisfaction. “But it’ll be good for you in the long run.”

You jerked your chin towards her bottle. “How’d you get one of those?” 

It was an innocent question, but the bewilderment on her face told you that you knew close to nothing about their world, having been sheltered all this while by Leon. Your cheeks grew warm.

“Is that a trick question, or—?” she snorted, only to realize you’d been genuine. “Oh, um, I hunted and drained the victim?”

She followed up with another query, “Didn’t you already have your first kill?”

“What?!” you blurted out, not quite sure if you misunderstood her words.

“Like, the first person you drank from when you turned.” She moved her hands around wildly, as though it would aid in her explanation. “’Cause there’s no way they didn’t end up dead with that kind of hunger frenzy.”

“No, no… it wasn’t like that,” you sputtered, still shocked at what she had divulged. “Le— My sire helped me.”

“Wow, you’re lucky,” she huffed, clearly astounded and simultaneously jealous by the revelation you’d shared. “Some of us didn’t even get anything left for us to eat.”

“You mean, your sires just abandoned you?” you quizzed, baffled by how cruel some Kindred could be. Then again, it shouldn’t have surprised you, seeing as how you’d been treated by the rest of the Camarilla.

She nodded solemnly in response. “Yeah, pretty common among our lot, actually.” 

Waving to another group that had entered into the building, she mentioned, “Caitiffs, over there.”

Caitiff was a catch-all term used for Kindred who didn’t belong to any clan, either because they didn’t know who their sire was, or they had been rejected by their clan as the blood didn’t take. The latter meant that they had no real lineage, including the clane bane and its noticeable features. They were considered to be at the bottom of the social hierarchy, just above the Thin-Bloods.

“Why do you think we’re part of the Anarchs?” she asked rhetorically. “’Cause there was nowhere else for us to go.”

The more you talked with the rest of the group, the more you realized that Leon had been shouldering most of the burdens that should’ve been yours to carry. While other fledglings scrounged around doing someone else’s dirty deeds to be able to survive the next night, you didn’t have to move a muscle. Simply because Leon had taken it upon himself to do it for you. 

What’s Leon like now? Patrick’s question from the previous night echoed in your ears.

Kind, caring, protective — were the words that came up spontaneously. It astonished you that insults like disgusting, vile, revolting didn’t. But he had also been incredibly dense and obtuse at times. You facepalmed and stifled a laugh at the recollection of him dressing you in Ada’s raunchy lingerie set after the night of your Embrace. You’d been outraged at everything then, and when you’d asked him why he had done that, he blushed furiously and stammered, “I-I thought you would feel more comfortable in, uh, um… women’s clothes?”

“What’s so funny?” one of the Anarchs asked, bringing you back to reality.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, shaking your head and shrugging off the residual thoughts that lingered. But like a parasite lodged deep within the crevices of your skull, you couldn’t scrub the image of him abducting a child from your mind. 

That was why you were here, you reminded yourself severely. Not to think about the small pockets of good times with Leon that brought you much-needed joy. Not to make excuses for how he could be redeemed. He wasn’t your little project to work on. You wanted to be free and rid of this man once and for all. You were here to learn how to be independent and self-sufficient, so you would never have to rely on him again.

“How do you usually feed, Claire?” you popped the question out of the blue, so much so that she thought you were joking, just like the younger Anarch.

“What has Leon been weaning you off? Blood bags?” she giggled until she saw the look on your face. “Wait, you’re actually serious?”

An exasperated groan escaped her throat. “He really needs to stop babying you.”

“Tell me about it.” You leaned back against your elbows as you idly watched the others train.

“Well, I shouldn’t be laughing ’cause I’m actually a Bagger myself,” she disclosed. “Working at the charity blood drive at the hospital gives me a couple of privileges when it comes to siphoning off some supplies.”

Raising a finger in front of your face, she preempted your next question, “And no, sorry, I got dibs on that first. You’ll have to find your own way.”

“What other ways are there?” you pondered out loud.

“I dunno, be creative,” she suggested unhelpfully. “My brother’s more the stalk and knock ’em out kind. The Anarch you spoke with earlier prefers sleeping victims…”

She shuffled from her stretched-out position back to sitting on her bum. “Whatever you choose, remember that we’re predators, so think like one. That said, these are just our feeding preferences. In a pinch, you’ll do anything it takes to survive.”

You hummed, contemplating her lengthy exposition on the topic. If there was one thing you’d been good at in life, it was talking with people, getting them excited about an idea, making them feel heard and leaving them wanting more. There were two ways to go about this: either you became a charismatic cult leader or you resorted to the cheesy but tried-and-tested method of picking people up at parties. Naturally, you opted for the latter.

When you told Claire about your plan, she grinned cheekily. “Never took you as the seductive Siren type.”

“I’m not having sex with anyone,” you protested. “Just gonna ask if they’d let me do some weird shit to them.”

“Ooh, like a blood kink sorta thing?” Placing her chin between her fingers, she rubbed her bottom lip in anticipation. “That’s pretty smart, but also on the borderline of a Masquerade breach. You should be careful.”

“It’s kinda what I thought Leon had at first to be honest,” you admitted.

Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering it as she erupted in a burst of raucous cackles. Tears fell from her eyes and her shoulders heaved up and down. Her whole body shook uncontrollably.

“Hah— oh god— jeez,” she wheezed, grabbing onto your shoulder for support. “You’re killin’ me!”

Apparently, it spread like wildfire, since the rest of the crowd reacted similarly, except Chris, whose cheeks were dusted in light pink as he looked away in embarrassment. You never thought you’d be gossiping behind your sire’s back, but it was too late to retract that statement now.

You tried to spend most of these nights away from Leon’s apartment, hoping to get back each time when he had already nodded off to sleep, but you had no such luck. He’d be sitting there either in front of his desk or at the TV waiting for you like a strict parent. Once you got in, he’d glance over at you briefly, his eyes laden with grief, before quietly switching off the lights for bed. 

The change in atmosphere was jarring; you much preferred the liveliness of the cafe and the Anarch hangout, compared to the oppressive heaviness you felt at the apartment. You tossed and turned in bed, unable to find sleep, only to hear the rustling of sheets coming from downstairs, confirming that your companion suffered from the same fate. It was only in the very last moments before sunrise that your body automatically switched off like a clock.

No matter how well you tried to hide the cuts and bruises you returned with from your training sessions with Chris, nothing could elude Leon’s hawk-like scrutiny. He didn’t call you out on it initially, merely giving you perturbed looks, a raised eyebrow here and there, accompanied by a frown. It wasn't until one night, when you returned home with broken knuckles after getting a little over-enthusiastic during a combat fighting session, that he spoke up.

“Are you thrill-seeking, or are you purposely picking fights I don’t know about?” his sharp voice rang out across the room.

You ignored him, heading straight into the bathroom as you loaded a pail with cold water and ice. Plunging your fist into it, you stuffed a towel into your mouth to muffle your whimpers. Then, you roused the blood, focusing your concentration on mending the wound. Within seconds, your mangled hand fixed itself like machine parts slotting into place, becoming brand new again. A pang of hunger arose deep within the bowels of your stomach and you growled reflexively. 

Shit, you needed blood. But you refused to touch the blood bags that Leon had been procuring for you night after night.

At that point, Leon stormed in. “Hey, answer me!” he demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously.

You stood up, facing him as you scoffed, “What’re you, my dad or something?”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” With a brazen look on your face, you stripped off in front of him. He stared at you in shock before averting his gaze out of respect for your modesty.

Stepping into the shower, you ran the tap, allowing the spray of water to wash away the dirt and crustied blood from your body. “Feel free to enjoy the show,” you jeered. There was a long pause before you heard his footsteps exit the room in a hurry.

You took your time getting ready, ensuring that not a single strand of hair was out of place and that your makeup was on point. For good measure, you applied a flirty cat eyeliner and chose a brighter, more youthful cherry red for your lips, blotting and smudging it along the edges to create a softer look. 

Pulling out a strappy, ribbed cotton dress from the clothes you’d hung in Leon’s wardrobe, you threw it on. The material accentuated your curves but had a semi-relaxed fit, giving off a casual, sporty vibe — perfect for what you were about to get up to. You favored the warm, earthy tones of its burnt orange hue against your complexion in the mirror. It reminded you of saffron spice and the ember glow of charcoal as the floral taste of shisha filled your mouth in some distant land. Adorning yourself with gold dangle earrings, you completed the look by slipping on a pair of black heeled sandals before making your way out.

However, a hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around as you landed with your back against the door. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Leon gave you a once over as his smoldering eyes swept over your outfit from head to toe. A multitude of conflicting emotions crossed his face, ranging from disapproval to admiration. He seemed to be leaning hard into the overprotective parent role and it was getting on your nerves.

“The night’s still young,” you argued, tempted to provoke his temper even further. Oh, well, YOLO. Giving him a devilish smirk, you added, “I’m heading out to have some fun. So, don’t bother waiting up for me.”

Wresting your wrist free from his grasp, you flipped your hair, turning towards the door as you strutted out of the apartment without looking back.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was drizzling when you arrived at the front of the queue at one of the more commercial clubs popular with the younger crowd in downtown Raccoon City. The rain had moistened your skin, giving it wet, glistening sheen as the bouncer ushered you into the space.

Kaleidoscopic strobe lights flashed across the dance floor while a tired playlist of the current top chart hits reverberated through the state-of-the-art sound system. You wouldn’t call this place your usual haunt for a party, but it was your best bet at finding people who’d be willing to hook up and more. The latter part being the crucial factor here.

Scanning the room, you picked out a couple of potential targets — mostly singles who were either halfheartedly bobbing along to the music or restlessly standing at the sides, on the lookout for fresh meat, like yourself.

A buzz of eagerness and exhilaration coursed through your body. The Beast in you egged you on, smiling wickedly as you approached a lone man in the middle of the dancefloor. A well-loved banger came on just in time for you to conduct what you and your friends openly ridiculed and coined as the ‘mating call’.

Sashaying over, you made eye contact with the guy and winked, making sure he knew you had his full attention. He smirked, looking as though he had just hit the jackpot. Maybe he’d been here for a while with no luck. Taking a leisurely sip of his drink, he made no attempt to conceal his blatant ogling of your figure. He wasn’t bad looking himself, but something told you that he was a little rough around the edges and probably had a foul mouth.

As you drew closer, you noticed the way his medium-length, dark brown hair fell against his face in a tousled, layered style, complementing his rugged and laid-back appearance. His square jawline was clean-shaven and he had a broader, sturdier frame than Leon. Wait, why were you comparing him to your sire again?

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He gulped down the rest of his drink for liquid courage before dumping the emptied bottle on the floor. Placing his hands on your hips, the corners of his mouth ticked up into a cocky grin.

Hm, forward, you thought. But at least you could get straight to it then.

You let him twirl you around as you gyrated your hips against his sensually, his chest hugging your back as you made small talk. “What’s your name, handsome?”

He chuckled, his breath tickling the shell of your ear as his gravelly voice dropped an octave lower. “For you, sweetheart, it’s Kevin.”

“Kevin,” you repeated coyly, allowing him to grind even harder against your ass.

“Mmm, that sounds so good on your lips,” he murmured, peppering the side of your neck with kisses. “I’d like to take this someplace else, if y’know what I mean?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” You emitted a breathy giggle, trying to play the part of a ‘seductive siren’ that Claire had mentioned. “Lead the way, Kevin.”

It turned out that his idea of ‘someplace else’ was rather uncreative, but you weren’t here to judge the man, you needed to satiate your hunger. He kissed you roughly against the door of a toilet stall you’d locked yourself into, ignoring the other patrons who were either drunk or high out of their minds. When you heard the metallic clink of his belt unbuckling, you knew it was time.

Pressing your index finger to his lips to stop him momentarily, you asked, “Would you let me do anything to you?” It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.

The confusion on his face shifted into a saucy smile, as his imagination began to run wild with interpreting what you wanted. “Didn’t realize I had such a dirty, naughty girl in my hands.”

Kneading your ass, he leered, “Come home with me, baby. I’ll show you a good time.” His hands continued to grope the sides of your body. “Got handcuffs, batons, you name it. Courtesy of the RPD.”

Huh, another police officer. Looks like you had a type apparently, you grimaced internally.

You ran your hands along his muscular chest, grazing your fingertips against his neck, causing him to shiver. “I will, but first, I wanna take a bite.”

“Fuck me, that’s hot,” he gritted. “You can do whatever you want, baby.”

Bingo. Pushing him back onto the toilet seat, you straddled his lap, feeling his hardened erection against your crotch. He let out a hiss at the friction building up between your clothes. Combing his hair away from his neck, you licked a thick stripe along the prominent vein you spotted at its side.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his eyes rolling back in pleasure and you took your chance, plunging your teeth into the vein as you drank from him.

Warm, sweet blood filled your mouth to the brim like a midnight dessert, and you could taste the alcohol and nicotine in it, giving you a double dose of wooziness. So, this was what it was like to get tipsy, you laughed to yourself. All at once, your Beast quietened down, the gnawing feeling at the bottom of your stomach numbed to a point where it was just a tepid throb.

This was where you should end it right? You hoped the man beneath you was still alive. Licking the wound close, you withdrew, quickly grabbing some toilet paper to wipe away the streaks of blood from his neck before chucking it into the bin. Messy drinker. You still needed to get used to feeding.

He was out cold, though his expression was one of pure bliss. I really should get paid for this, you thought, shaking your head as you checked his pulse. Yup, he’ll be fine.

Tugging down the hem of your dress, you smoothed out the creases and stumbled out of the stall. Whoops, you forgot you weren’t entirely sober now, especially in your heels. At the sinks, you peered at yourself in the mirror. Your lipstick was smudged and splotches of bright red decorated your mouth and chin. It was on the borderline — you could’ve just had a lot of makeup on that got ruined in the process.

A partially intoxicated woman at the next sink bumped shoulders with you merrily. “Had fun?”

Trailing a line across your bloodied chin with your finger, you sucked the remnants of Kevin into your mouth, before pulling it out with a ‘pop’. Smiling widely at your reflection, you declared, “Yes.”

Back at the main area of the club, a pair of vivid, crystal-clear blue eyes illuminated in the darkness, stalking your every move. His lips contorted into a vicious snarl, and his fingers wrapped around his sweating glass, gripping it in a chokehold. He looked hideous like this, but he didn’t care. It was only feeding, yet jealousy coiled and wound its way like a rose stem around his heart, its thorns lacerating through flesh and bone, nestling itself deep within its confines.

That guy? Keith— Kevin? Whatever. He was an acquaintance through his brief dalliances with the RPD. As far as Leon was concerned, that sleazeball didn’t deserve you. And neither did he, but he should’ve been the cop you went off with instead.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Savage by blood (dp x dc)

As Maddie stared at the letter in her right hand, she brought a slightly unsteady left hand to her mouth and pressed hard. The words were blurring even as she stared at the paper, as if Maddie could extract more information than what was on the page.

“Mom?” 

Maddie turned her head to find herself face to face with her son. Hurriedly she wiped at her eyes

“Mom, are you okay?” Her sweet boy asked again as he hurried closer.

Maddie took a fortifying breath and forced a smile she did not feel. “All good baby, just got some surprising news.”

“Mom you were crying.” Danny was still standing around gingerly, as if cautious not to upset her more.

Maddie opened her arms and her boy slotted in them for a hug. She sighed into his hair, even as she savored the embrace that was becoming rarer and rarer since he’d turned fourteen and decided he was too old for such thing. She sniffed again and did her best to blink away the moisture in her eyes. She heard the floorboard creak and when she looked up, she saw her eldest standing there, her eyes going from Danny to her. 

“You’ve been crying,” her daughter stated, her eyes watchful, and worried.

“Sweetheart-“ Maddie started but her smart girl interrupted the comforting words she was preparing.

“I’m getting dad,” Jazz said and left before Maddie could say anything.

Danny looked up, his big blue eyes just like his father’s. “What happened?”

“I’m ok, honey, it’s-“ nothing she wanted to say but stopped herself, well-aware that now that the whole family was getting in on this there would be no deflecting. Not that she would’ve tried to hide it from her family anyways. “It’s nothing bad, baby, it really only took me by surprise.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed but before he could say anything, her fool of a husband burst into the room. 

“I’ve brought tissues, my love!” He announced in a subdued version of his normal boisterous speech. “And the Fenton water-bottle to keep you hydrated!”

“Thank you, honey,” Maddie said as an irrepressible smile took over her face. Her husband had a way of making everything seem better to her just by walking in a room.

“Anything for you, Maddie,” he said as he stepped towards her and sat down next to her, with a soft kiss to her temple. He gestured to their daughter who had been standing in the doorway to come join their little dogpile and there was further readjusting as everyone wiggled into the most comfortable position.

Once they all fell still, Danny one again looked to her with narrowed eyes. “Now, what happened?”

Maddie sighed as she distractedly started to stroke her daughter’s hair. “Let me just say that this is an overreaction, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Mom,” said daughter intoned as her father gently intertwined their fingers and Maddie resigned herself.

“You remember how I’ve told you I’m adopted?” Maddie started, and she felt her son nod against her. “I received a letter.” Maddie took a deep breath. “It was from my birth mother.”

She could feel her husband gently pressing her hand.

“How did she get your contact?” Her son asked.

She pressed back before answering. “I don’t know. My file from before I was three years-old and entered the legal system is very spotty, so I would have had no way to even begin to look into my records of where I came from. I don’t think the records were sealed, for exactly that reason.”

“Ok,” Jazz started. “What did she want?”

“She-“ Maddie stuttered at that before pushing past it, “she wants to meet. Me. Or well I guess, us.”

“Us,” Jack said.

“The whole family,” Maddie confirmed. “And she wants to introduce me to her wives, if I’m ok with that.”

There was a pause as Jazz and Danny locked eyes. “Does that mean we could potentially get at least three grandmas out of this?”

Maddie couldn’t help a snort. “We’ll have to see how it goes, but yes it does.”

Danny pumped his fist in victory. “Three times the Chrismas presents!”

“Now, now, son,” Jack chided. “Let’s not think of extorting your grandmothers before we’ve even met them.”

“Yeah,” Jazz added. “Especially since I’m going to be the favorite.”

“No you won’t!” Danny jumped up to glare at her sister, who drew herself up.

“Yes I will, I’m already Aunt Alicia’s favorite!”

“Exactly, so it’s my turn!”

Jack put his hand on their interlaced hands and Maddie turned towards him.

“What’s her name?” He asked as softly as he did when he was trying to be subtle and unobtrusive.

“My biological mother’s name is Kay,” Maddie started, “and her wives names’ are Liana and Scandal Savage.”

“You bet your ass I’m going to be the favorite grandchild!” Her son exclaimed loudly.

“Danny!” Maddie reprimanded. “Language!”

“Sorry, mom,” her son muttered as he looked down.

Jazz sent him a smirk which had him sticking his tongue out in retaliation and her daughter turned towards Jack with big eyes.

“Da-ad, he’s sticking his tongue at me!”

Jack turned back towards the kids, to manage the fight that had started while Maddie grabbed the letter again, letting her eyes scan the contents again.

She would have to write back immediately.

[higanbanamilktea]

Graveyard Stroll with Lucifer

Goth!gn!reader X Lucifer (。・ω・。)

Author note: This is mainly me projecting my own MC into this fic, i might show her someday.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes, i'm sleepy by the time i finish ths fic

Also hi, i'm back! Just got so busy with university and work

"Are there cemeteries in Devildom?"

You were lying on the couch of Lucifer's study room, keeping him company while the demon filled his paperwork.

Both of you have been silent the whole time, and it started getting boring. Your mind wandered thinking about the things you never did while staying in the Devildom.

"Of course there are, what a foolish question." Lucifer replies.

"I've never been to one of them..."

You have been on Devildom for over a year now, and you never visited any of the cemeteries. Thinking about it, so much stuff happen almost everyday that you hardly have any time for strolls.

"Why would you go to a cemetery?"

"They're quiet, empty, it's a place you can just go to enjoy the silence and reflect about life, you know?"

Thinking about it, Lucifer could see some of the charm of a walk in the cemetery,

"We should go together" you speak, bluntly. "But i don't want to go to the mausoleum, i would like to see the tombs of the common folk."

Putting his pen aside, the first born looks at your direction.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes." You learned to be assertive when talking about your wishes to Lucifer.

"Very well, then" the demon smiles fondly "We'll go to a cemetery together."

The day finally arrived! You two walked from RAD while holding hands, talking about the most mundane stuff: how your days went, this newest TV show, or this gossip you herd on the hallways.

When you arrived, both of you kept silent, looking at the graves, reading the names, the epitaph, you tried to imagine what kind of demon they were.

"Look, Lucifer, someone visited this grave recently" you said, pointing at a tombstone with a bouquet placed on it. "This is so sweet!"

"How lovely, indeed." He replied "Romantic, even."

"The person who brought those flowers might really love The deceased" You then looked at him, smiling.

"When i die, you better bring me flowers too!"

"MC...let's not..."

"If you don't, i will come back to haunt you!" You poke at his arm repeatedly "Boo~ Lucifeeeerrr, giiiveee meee floweeers"

The demon could't help but laugh lightly.

"Well, if not bringing flowers will keep you around me, i'll never bring you flowers."

"So you don't mind being haunted?"

"If it's you, absolutely not."

[thekinkyleopard]

Hold Still

A BlyFry Snz Fic

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Force Holding, Snz Fet, Smut, WLW

Description: this fic is based off this prompt!

Author’s Notes: You have been feeeeddddd!!! I don’t CARE if you don’t want the lesbians /i/ want the lesbians 👹 I love them. Anyway, enjoy BlyFry torture. 🥰 @aller-geez owns Freya and did the cover art!

Freya was curled up in the pit of Blythe’s arm, snuggled close as they enjoyed the sound of a gentle rain from their open cottage bedroom window. “It’s so peaceful out here..” the angel sighs with neutrality as her fingers trace up and down her lover’s exposed torso.

“I agree, lover, there’s nothing quite like laying with you next to the sound of mother nature existing as she comes,” Blythe's voice was a low murmur, vibrating against Freya's cheek where she nuzzled in closer. The scent of petrichor hung heavy in the air, a comforting aroma that mingled with the delicate fragrance of Freya's skin. As the rain continued its soft patter against the window, the world outside seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them cocooned in their intimate sanctuary.

Freya's touch was light yet purposeful, her fingers dancing across Blythe's skin with a feather-light nudge that sent shivers down her spine. Every caress was like a promise, a silent vow of love and devotion that spoke louder than any words ever could. Blythe's breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of adoration for the angel in her arms.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the sensation of Freya's embrace, the sound of the rain outside, and the unspoken bond that held them together like two perfect puzzle pieces completing the picture. They laid like this for a few moments before there were light sniffles that started from below. “Snddff…H’h..” Freya quickly shook her head, trying to cast away the irritating feeling that began to make itself known within the passages of her sinuses. “iihh..D-Darling….I th-think the wet pollen is…agitating me…” the fallen finally admitted, Blythe looked down at her girlfriend, concerned at first but her inner monster couldn’t help itself. She wrapped her hand along the underside of the Angel’s jaw and forced her gaze upward into her own.

“Do tell me, Angel,” she asks with a heavy seductive tone. Freya gulps loosely. Bly's eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger as she held the woman’s gaze captive, her hand exerting a firm yet gentle pressure on the angel's jaw. The subtle shift in her lover's demeanor did not go unnoticed by Freya, who could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at the intensity of Blythe's stare. “M-My…l-love…?” she questioned softly, barely above a whisper.

The sensation of the wet pollen irritating her sinuses had been momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of ache that pulsed through her veins. Despite the discomfort beginning to build in her nose, there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through Freya at the dominance displayed by the succubi. It awakened a primal part of her being that yearned for submission, for surrendering control to the one who held her heart in their hands. The forbidden feeling.

With a soft whimper, Freya leaned into Blythe's touch, her breath hitching as she felt a wave of arousal wash over her. The rain outside seemed to echo the rhythm of her racing heart. She knew this situation all too well. “What is it my Angel? Do you need to….sneeze?” She asked curiously, but behind that curiosity was a sick sadist that needed to be quenched.

“K-Kinda…” the fallen mumbled with slight hesitance. As often as she was ready to please her insatiable partner due to her affliction…she wasn’t sure she was ready to submit to the game up the succubus’ sleeves.

Blythe's lips curled into a knowing smile at Freya's hesitant admission. The succubus could practically taste the tension that hung in the air, a heady mix of desire and uncertainty. She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting across Freya's sensitive skin as she whispered, "You know what you need to do, my Angel….Let go for me," Her voice was like silk, smooth and seductive, coaxing Freya to surrender to the inevitable urge building within her.

Freya's chest tightened as she felt the first tickle of a sneeze creeping up her sinuses, a sensation that both thrilled and terrified her. The conflicting emotions warred within her, but she couldn’t just let it out that easily. “h-Heh…” she started but then swallowed it back, hard like a gumball down one’s throat. The succubus raised a brow and quickly flipped their positions so that the angel was below her and she hovered over top.

“What is this hesitation? Shall I induce a punishment for disobedience, my love?” Freya blanched at the thought of Blythe's punishment, her mind conjuring up images of spankings and other torments. The succubi’s eyes narrowed in warning, and Freya could feel the heat of Blythe's body against hers. A wave of nervousness washed over her as she realized she had pushed her partner too far.

“You’re still holding them hostage from me hm? Okay…then I suppose there’s no other choice….hold still,” the woman quickly thrusts her lover’s hands up and attaches them to the handcuffs secured to their headboard already. The angel gasps gently her nose stinging and leaking with the need to release but she couldnt possibly fathom what the succubus had in store for her. The sensation of being restrained only intensified the anticipation that gripped Freya's heart. She could feel Bly’s eyes on her, studying her every move, every twitch of her body as she waited for the storm to unleash itself.

As the seconds ticked by, the pressure building in Freya's nose grew more and more unbearable. She could feel the squishiness of her swelling nostrils, the tickle-turned-itch that threatened to consume her entire face in a sudden burst of sneezes. The rain outside seemed to emphasize the echoing beat of her heart, and Freya felt as though her very soul was being exposed and offered up to Blythe's predatory gaze.

The succubus could see the struggle in Freya's yellow eyes, the tension that twisted her features into a mask of both desire and anxiety. And with a cruel, seductive click of her tongue, chuckled at her girlfriend. “You’re so adorable, chained up at my will,” she teased, the woman then quickly pulled a box out from under the bed with a swift movement. Retrieving the hitachi wand from inside. “You’re going to wish you would have just listened, my dove,” she shakes her head solemnly but her eyes glisten with sin.

The fallen's heart pounded in her chest as the succubus approached her with the Hitachi wand, its vibrations pulsating with anticipation. The scent of her arousal filled the air, mingling with the earthy musk of her sweat and the floral notes of the scented candles scattered around the room. The succubus trailed the wand over Freya's nose, sending a shiver down her spine as the gentle hum against her sensitive skin threatened to precipitate her into a sneeze.

Blythe's eyes held a wicked twinkle as she continued to torment her lover, the vibrating massager teasing Freya's nostrils and the inside of her quivering lips. The crisp sheets crinkled beneath them, the only sound in the room other than the storm outside that seemed to mimic the tempest brewing inside Freya's body. “Now now, don’t you dare, you made the commitment to hold them back, remember? So hold them back,” Bly demanded of her lover with a strict, authoritative tone, while Freya let out an exaggerated, tortured whimper.

“B-But…” she started, her breath catching in her throat, wrists tugging at their restraints and her legs spreading further apart to accommodate for her girlfriend sitting between them.

“Aht, Aht, hold them back,” Blythe mocked, her voice darkening like a storm cloud as she wielded the Hitachi wand with a deft touch. Freya's entire body tensed, her skin prickling with awareness as she felt the vibrations from the wand radiate through her, lingering on her nerve endings. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a wild beat that matched the frenzied rhythm of the rain drops hitting the side of their home.

It was as if the elements themselves were conspiring against her, trapping her in a whirlwind of sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. The betrayed smell of her sweat mingled with the heady scent of her arousal that seemed to bloom like a rose beneath her, sweet and intoxicating. The succubus noticed and took a deep inhale of her surroundings. “Delightful…my sweet Angel’s scent is so intoxicating…” The air felt heavy, as if the very molecules around her had been saturated with desire and anticipation.

She clenched her fists on each side of her body, trying her best to keep the explosions she so desperately needed inside her body as her forehead started to sweat. Bly now tracing her free hand across the exposed thighs of her girlfriend who was only sitting in a thin night gown that had fallen behind her hips in this position. “Your skin is so beautiful..” the demon licked her lips as the tips of her fingers drew patterns up Freya’s inner thighs.

The angel moaned, unable to withdraw the desire building within her quim at the touch of her lover’s hand. It was proving too much, holding back her sneezing, and being touched so intimately. “B-Bly…” she tried to protest as the buzzing continued to echo inside her skull. Her nose felt like it was going to explode, every breath seeming to teeter on the edge of uncontrolled expulsion. She could feel the tightness in her head, the gears of her sinuses grating together in their effort to contain the pressure building inside her. Freya's sinuses strained against the vibrations, her nasal cavities expanding and contracting in response to the intense stimulation. The warmth of her lover's touch against her sensitive skin only added to the mix of lust, further fueling the fire within her. The storm outside seemed to act as a mere background to the frenzied game they played, as lightning bolts of pleasure and need struck her from within, threatening to tear her apart in their intensity.

A single tear escaped her blackened yellow eye, trailing down her cheek as she felt herself losing the battle to hold back her sneeze. Her body shuddered involuntarily, her muscles clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable moment of release. The scent of her arousal became more pronounced, mingling with the musk of her sweat and Blythe’s own prominent pheromones. “I must taste you…” the Succubus whispered hungrily keeping her arm in position but sliding down the fallen’s body, she used her free hand to pull Freya’s panties to the side to expose her wet folds, sliding a wicked forked tongue against them. The angel wanted to throw her head back and release everything she’d worked hard to hold back, but she didnt. She whimpered, low and long as the sensation of her girlfriend’s lips closed around her throbbing clit.

It was two fold the trouble, the wet, messy mouth now ravishing her sacred treasure, and the wand electrifying the entirety of her brain through her nostrils. She couldn’t form a single thought. The Hitachi wand continued to vibrate against Freya's nose, its hum a constant reminder of the battle she was waging against the sneezes that threatened to escape. She could feel the pressure building in her sinuses, the walls of her nasal cavities were red and swollen, as if they were being stretched to their limits. Her nostrils flared with each inhale, and small droplets of sweat glistened on her skin as she fought to contain herself. Every breath she took felt like a challenge, a fight against the inevitable release that awaited her.

Blythe cooed and hummed against the sensitive throbbing bud, allowing her tongue to massage the underside before teasing her aching hole. “S-Shoot…” Freya ‘cursed’ as the feeling of release was just hiding around the corner.”P-Please…Bly-Blythe…”she pleaded. “I’ll…b-be…go-good…” she stuttered and swallowed trying to keep her promise and hold fast against the vibrating assaults. Her breathing had become short and sharp, her heart pounding furiously against her fingertips as she gripped the bed sheets tightly. Her eyes were wide with lust, her skin flushed with arousal and sin.

As Blythe continued her assault on Freya's swollen bud, her forked tongue dancing around it with expert precision, Freya's resolve began to waver. The pleasure built like a tidal wave, threatening to crash down upon her and obliterate her fragile control. She could feel the storm brewing within her, the electricity of ecstasy striking her from within, igniting every nerve ending in her body. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. Her scent thickened, filling the air with the heady aroma of raw, unbridled passion.

The Hitachi wand continued its relentless attack on her nose, driving her closer and closer to the edge with every pulse of electric vibration. Her sinuses strained against the intense sensations that plagued her, both from her head to her delicate parts, she was on the verge of insanity. “I’m gonna….Blythe..I’m gonna…” prepared to release, her orgasm built inside of her groin with a persistence that was now unavoidable. Sensing her girlfriend’s approaching release, the succubus pulled the wand away from Freya’s leaking, swollen and reddened face to force a double sensation.

“OH MY GOD…” the angel threw her head back as her orgasm suddenly started to fold her over with Blythe’s tongue still actively working against her but at the same moment it threw her off one edge, the release of the vibrating wand against her face came free and she found herself thrown over a different edge at the same time. “H’IhhSHHHHiew!! essh’IEW!” she finally sneezed, a cloud of spittle falling over cast the both of them, her body convulsing and twitching under the force of her orgasm, but this didn’t stop the succubus, she wanted more, she would drain every last sinful drop off the ethereal.

“B-Ly…iit’SSHHIEW! eh’TnSHiEW!” the fallen throws her head against the headboard, her hands pulling and tugging at the restraints above her, desperate to touch her lover but denied the access. Freya’s sneezes were like bombs, shaking the very walls of the room and sending a shower of droplets spraying across the intimate scene. Blythe, undeterred by the sudden exhalation of her lover's nasal passages, continued to lavish attention on Freya's sensitive regions, her forked tongue swirling and flicking against the angel's needy clit. Every sneeze felt like a blow to Freya's arousal, yet with each release, she found herself growing more and more flushed and overwhelmed with passion.

The Hitachi wand, now abandoned on the bed, hummed softly in the quiet moments between Freya’s sneezes. Its absence was a cruel reminder of the intensity of the sensation it had unleashed, and the angel knew that it would not be long before the agony and ecstasy of her orgasm returned. Blythe's tongue moved to wrap around her throbbing bud, sucking, teasing and while Freya fought to swallow the attack, it only intensified against her pleasure. “EhH’tshiew!” she collapsed with defeat after she sprayed another plume of wet mess. Blythe wanted to speak, she wanted to interject with something spicy, and quick, but her hunger. It drove her as she devoured her lover’s liquids. She knew there was more. Bringing up her hand she inserted her index and middle fingers, curling and twisting inside her twitching and shuddering lover. “h’Heh..iiKKSCH!!” throwing caution and followed by a high pitched moan as her body rolled into Bly’s motions.

The sight of Blythe's fingers buried deep within her was too much for the innocent to bear. Her body convulsed with each thrust, her heart pounding against her ribcage like a wild beast trapped in a cage. The storm within her raged on, the lightning bolts of pleasure and need striking her from within, tearing her apart in their intensity. She couldn't hold back any longer. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna...” she gasped, her voice cut off and swallowed by the burning static that consumed the passages of her nostrils. Blythe now fully thrusting her hand with a speed and intensity that caused the fallen’s eyes to roll back. “Aa-AH Hi’iHHSHHHhiew!” another convulsive sneeze rattled the room, spraying saliva and droplets of arousal in a chaotic arc across the space around them. Blythe released Freya's clit with a satisfied smirk, her tongue now flavored with the sweet nectar of her lover's arousal. “An absolute dish,” She grabbed Freya's ankles, pulling them apart and exposing the angel's dripping core to the cool air. The sudden constriction of the clitoral hood sent another jolt of pleasure coursing through Freya's body, the intensity of which was matched only by the explosive sneeze that followed.

“Eshh’iiiiewww!!” Freya cried out, her back arching off the bed as she convulsed with the force of the sneeze. Blythe took advantage of the momentary breather, leaning in to lick and taste the droplets that lingered on the angel’s lips.

“Good girl,” she whispered breathlessly, herself tired out from the overconsumption. Blythe lowered her head to Freya's chest, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, the sweat dampening the fine fabric of her dress. The room was now sweltering, heavy with the scent of sex and the faint, earthy tang of the air that had shaken them both to the core. Her fingers traced gentle circles on Freya's skin, seeking to soothe the fiery tension that still lingered between them while the ethereal caught her breath.

As Freya's breathing began to slow, Blythe couldn't help but admire the exquisite beauty of her lover's face flushed and glistening, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. It was a sight that made her own heart race and her throat dry with longing.

The coolness of the room against the heat of their bodies was a welcome relief, but it also served as a reminder of the urgency to solve a problem. Lazily, the succubus got out of bed and closed the window, looking back at her flushed and spent partner she smiled, sweetly, the hungry demon inside her satiated for now. “Better, my love?” Freya blinked her tear filled eyes allowing them to clear before turning her head to inhale deeply, feeling a sense of calm and clarity now that the window was closed.

“Much,” she breathed, her voice still slightly hoarse from the exertion. Freya's eyes fluttered shut as she surrendered to the afterglow, her body still humming with pleasure. Blythe, ever attentive, crawled back onto the bed to lie beside her, wrapping her arms around Freya's waist.

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of her lover’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of their lovemaking, the mix of their arousal and the lingering traces of musk from the outdoors that had started to dissipate. The room was now filling up with the scent of their passion and the warmth of their bodies, a testament to the depth of their desire.

Blythe traced her fingers along Freya's collarbone, her touch soft and gentle, like the caress of a summer breeze. The angel hummed delightfully, leaning closer into her sadistic lover. “You’re so naughty…” Freya giggled, to which she was met by a dismissive scoff.

“Me? Dont play coy, darling, you’re just as filthy as I,” they giggled together as they spent the rest of the day rolling in between sessions of passion and contentment.

The End

Author’s Notes: another short one for you guys to consume while I try to get my shit together 🫡 I love BlyFry so much idc

[fairy-verse]

The Horror in this universe makes me go mad man. Pretty big fairy... IUuhhUHuhuihIUYGUFdestDYfuygub <3 <3 <3 ... I'm personally really keen to know more about his background, such as: Members involved in the cave-in? Horror's opinion on Error? If the 2 met what was the initial impression / interaction like as I believed it was most likely Error who gave Horror the spot / semi job to patrol around the edge of his domain or was it Horror's own claustrophobia that made him leave? Did any other fairy try and help Horror with his trauma after he was saved? ... Sorry for the amount of questions being thrown at you but I am very very invested in his character (as well as his relationships) and would love to see his reference sheet one day! <3

Friends… The fairies that were unfortunately trapped together with Horror were his friends, good friends, fairies he’d shared meals with, fairies he’d taken steaming baths with in the deeper bowls of Error’s domain, fairies he’d shared nests with as they grew closer. Horror can recall memories of kissing one of them, a sweet one that had such a pretty laugh and always made such luxurious sets of armour… they’d been one of the wounded ones as the rocks and boulders came tumbling down, and they’d been the first to die. Horror wouldn’t know it just then, but it’d been a merciful fate compared to the horrors he faced. Fairies are good to each other, loving even in rivalry, but desperation and starvation can turn even the loveliest of fairies into something horrible, and so it came to be as Horror’s friends suddenly came down upon him, begging his forgiveness even as they caved parts of his skull in their attempt to eat him. He’d been the largest in the group, even back then, but nothing compared to what he was nowadays. He’d only been a little bigger… just a little… but that had been enough for him to be seen as a proper meal.

In the end, it was him who came to weep as he fed on them, keeping them alive but unconscious for as long as possible, but even after they’d turned to stardust, he tried to eat that, too… And then he was found. What a Horror he must have been to witness.

He can’t remember the name his mother gave him…

Horror never had much of an opinion regarding Error. He was their Winter Queen, King Winter, their leader, a pretty, prickly fairy with the brightest, bluest wings Horror had ever seen, and now he stood above Horror with a look of unconcealed distraught upon his face. Of course he’d be upset, Horror has not only confessed to eating his fellow fairies but was even caught in the act of feasting upon their stardust, too. A terrible act to commit, for now his fellow fairies will never be a part of the wind.

Horror expected no mercy, expected to be either cast out of killed for what he’d done, but Error did no such thing. His eye lights had lingered upon the jagged hole in his skull, upon his unnaturally bloated eye light, upon his chipped and broken bones, upon his malnourished body… He felt so ugly….

“Do you wish to stay in these halls?” Error had asked him.

“N…no,” he’d replied. “The rock… th… the… rocks…”

Horror hated being surrounded by cold, stony walls. These halls had been his home, had been his parent’s home, and he’d rarely left them throughout his life, yet now he hated them. He hated them. He hated them.

He hated them!

So, Error allowed him to leave. He allowed him to live outside but to stay within the domain itself and guard its southern borders, for that was to be his punishment. Mercy was the fact that he wouldn’t die, that he wouldn’t be forced to stay in the halls, but he’d still done the unspeakable. He’d still eaten the stardust of a fallen fairy, and thusly couldn’t be granted full mercy, yet Horror was glad despite his grief and anguish. He was permitted to stay outside, to go as he pleased by the southern borders of Error’s domain, and that is all he could ask for.

He was alone after that. None of his remaining friends came for him, none wished to approach, none wanted to take the risk of being eaten. It wounded him. Horror hadn’t wanted to eat any of his fellow fairies, he hadn’t wanted to do it. He wished he could tell them that, but his slurred and broken words made him sound dumb and primitive, made his desperate, engorged eye light seem far too eager when they came too close.

His pathetic whines as they fled from him made him angry… and terribly, terribly sad.

It was becoming difficult to remember things. It was becoming difficult to speak. His back began to hunch as he grew, the side effects of consuming other fairies kicking in. He couldn’t stand going hungry, he always needed to eat the second he felt his stomach twist.

Horror’s muddled memories of his first years in the forest by the southern border are… difficult to comprehend, but there is a light in the form of a golden begonia somewhere in them. He cannot remember her face, but he remembers the warmth she brought, and most importantly of all, the fresh fruits she gave him. A rare treat for a winter fairy to have in the middle of winter.

Few and far between did this flower come to him, but her very last meeting had been the most important one, for she’d brought with her a fairy. A weak, petite, beautiful summer fairy. Dust. She’d given him Dust to care for, and care for him Horror had done. He’d given Dust his bed, fed him with his food, kept him warm by always keeping the fireplace lit with the wood he’d chopped. It had felt so good to care for another fairy again, to have the company of one, even if Dust could hardly stay awake the first few days there.

Horror had prepared for him to leave once he recovered, had mentally prepared to be alone again, to be shunned by other fairies again… But Dust never left. Dust didn’t want to leave him, he’d said, and Horror hadn’t been able to keep himself strong just then, so he cried, and he cried and cried and he held Dust so close that he feared he might crush him, but the cold summer fairy in his arms only cradled his skull, and kissed his forehead so sweetly it did nothing to halt Horror’s tears.

The past is something Horror doesn’t wish to think of. He doesn’t want to ponder on how things would have turned out if past happenings had been different, because in the end, everything that has happened to him has led him to where he is now…

“Bunny?” Whispered Horror, afraid of disturbing his mate should he already have fallen asleep.

“Hm?” Replied Dust, sleepy, but still awake in Horror’s arms. He adjusted himself a little and nuzzled deeper into Horror’s chest, savouring the warmth he emitted.

“I love you,” said Horror, and held Dust ever closer to himself. “I love you,” he said again, the tremble in his voice poorly hidden. “I love you, Dust.”

“I love you, too,” said Dust only after a short pause. “I love you, too, Horror.”

[aggro-my-beloved]

Milo x Sweetheart Incorrect Quotes

Sweetheart: This is such a bad idea.

Milo: Then why are you coming along?

Sweetheart: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Sweetheart: Are you trying to seduce me?

Milo: Why, are you seducible?

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Milo, playing yet another horror game: Fuck.

Sweetheart: We've got to work on your cursing.

Milo: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Sweetheart: *Phases through the door looking panicked*

Milo: What did you do?

Sweetheart: Nobody died.

Milo: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

(I could just picture this being canon in one of their first audios jahhewihshswkwuge)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Sweetheart: Pardon the intrusion, but-

Milo: On this moment or just my life in general?

(also this one hehe)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Milo: That was so hot, Sweetheart.

Sweetheart: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Milo: I'm so in love with you.

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Milo: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Sweetheart: Okay.

Milo: And make out during the scary parts.

Sweetheart: Th-

Sweetheart: The scary parts.

Sweetheart: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

[lossie92]

As promised, here's the fluffy and spicy snippet. It comes from one of my unpublished WIPs, Romance Comes Later.

You can find another snippet from this story here 😉

Hope you enjoy!

-

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, explicit sexual content, D/s undertones

-

This time the kiss was softer and slower; a welcoming; a coming home. It was everything a kiss should be and Madara relished in it like he rarely ever did, taking pleasure in all the little sighs and moans coming out of Tobirama's lovely mouth. 

He rolled them over, careful not to put too much of his weight onto Tobirama. He needn't have worried though as it seemed the omega was too busy kissing him to care about anything else, not even the fact that the yukata he was wearing had bunched up around his slim hips, exposing his long lean legs. 

Though Madara tried valiantly, it was impossible to resist the temptation of running his blunt nails up the inside of one of those shapely, pale legs. Tobirama responded to it by parting his legs even more in a clear invitation, his back arching when Madara lowered himself between them and then moved his hips in a slow roll, the wetness of the omega's cunt soaking his fundoshi. The way Tobirama moaned at that sent a jolt of pleasure down Madara's spine and made him jerk forward with a hiss, his cock rubbing between Tobirama's folds and on the underside of his hard length. 

They both groaned at that, breaking the kiss. Their breathing was quick and wet, their lips only a hair’s breadth apart.

Madara licked at his lips, chasing the taste of their kiss, and smiled when he saw the hunger in Tobirama’s eyes as he watched him do it. His pupils were blown wide, dark maroon over brilliant red, his skin was flushed, his lips parted, and his hair surrounded his head like a halo of silver.

“Cute,” Madara whispered, though he didn't mean to say it.

Tobirama swallowed and blinked at him slowly, surprised, but not displeased. “I… y-you mean me?” He asked in a breathless sort of voice. “You th-think I'm—”

“That you're cute, yes,” Madara confirmed as he pressed a soft kiss on Tobirama's lips before he nuzzled against the omega's cheek. “Very cute. Adorable. And pretty. So, so pretty.”

“Oh,” Tobirama breathed out. His blush had definitely darkened and he both looked and smelled so thoroughly pleased it made Madara purr in satisfaction.

Trancing the line of Tobirama's jaw with his nose just as one of his hands moved to squeeze Tobirama's ass, he said, “Mm. And you know what I think?” 

Tobirama shook his head, his breath hitching. “No. Wh-what is it?”

“I think I want to eat you up,” Madara said with a hint of a growl in his voice before he nipped at Tobirama's shoulder playfully, his teeth grazing the exact spot where he had almost bitten the other man earlier. “Can I do that? Will you let me make you feel good? Make you mine?”

With a sigh Tobirama tilted his head to the side before he said in a breathy voice, “Yeah. You can do that. Whatever… whatever you want.”

That declaration gave Madara a pause. As much as he was thrilled that Tobirama apparently trusted him to this extent, it went without saying he had little reason to feel this way. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, tone serious. “I'll stop if you tell me to. At any point,” he added, “But if I bite you… You won't be able to take that back.”

Tobirama said nothing at first. Instead he cupped Madara's face gently between his hands and drew him close for a long, deep kiss. 

When they broke apart, he smiled at Madara and said, “I know.”

Madara sighed and leaned in for another kiss. “Alright. But please tell me if you wish to stop,” he said, “or if you don't like something.”

“I will,” Tobirama assured him before he closed the distance between them again.

They kissed for what felt like eternity. At first it was slow and languid, a build-up to something more. Then it shifted into something deeper and untamed, the sweet and spicy scent of their arousal getting thicker and more prominent in the air around them. 

Madara found himself enjoying every second of it. Kissing Tobirama was quickly becoming one of his favourite things to do, as stupid as it may sound, and he couldn't help indulging, especially when it seemed to bring the omega so much pleasure. He smelled of relaxation, contentment, and desire, all things that any alpha would find absolutely irresistible, especially if they had any reason to believe they were the reason behind all three. 

“You smell amazing,” he rasped when they finally broke apart to catch their breath. “Fucking delicious. So sweet, so lovely…”

Tobirama hummed in response as he blinked lazily, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. 

“So sweet and all mine,” Madara said next, nuzzling against Tobirama's cheek. “You're all mine, Tobirama, aren't you?”

“Yours,” Tobirama agreed. He fit his face in the crook of Madara's neck, his arms tightening around Madara's shoulders as he sighed a breathy, “All yours.”

It was more than enough to have Madara purring, the low sound coming from deep within his chest. Tobirama seemed to relax even further at that. His eyes slipped closed and he sighed again, a soft little sound that Madara thought was unfairly adorable. Then again all of Tobirama – his omega, his mate, his wife, his – was adorable. Prefect and adorable, and so, so pretty it clearly made Madara a little bit stupid.

Huffing at how ridiculous his thoughts have gotten all thanks to his hindbrain, he kissed Tobirama's cheek before moving his lips lower until he could suck at one of the scent glands at the base of Tobirama's neck. Tobirama whimpered at the sensation, his hot breath fanning over Madara's shoulder.

“Good?” Madara murmured in-between kissing and sucking at the gland.

“Mm, yes,” Tobirama gasped in response. His fingers dug into Madara's back and scalp in an obvious bid to keep him close. “Yeah, it's… I want…!”

Madara smiled. “Hm? What do you want?"

There was a brief pause as Tobirama gathered his scattered thoughts. 

“Bite me,” he finally managed to say, his voice only just louder than a whisper. “Can you… will you bite me?”

“Only if you say please,” Madara told him, his smile turning into a full-on grin when the request made Tobirama curse under his breath. “Come on, darling,” he encouraged as he pressed his thumb against the already reddened skin that covered the scent gland, “you can be good for me and say please.”

“P-please,” Tobirama choked out obediently. His voice was a bit higher and the needy note in it went straight to Madara's cock, making it twitch. “Please, Madara… p-please bite me. Please.”

“Good job, sweetheart,” Madara praised. He continued to rub over and around the scent gland, applying just enough pressure to make it sting. “You deserve a prize. All good, sweet boys do, mm?”

Tobirama nodded. “Y-yeah. I'm, I'm good. S’ good.”

Madara couldn't hold back a chuckle. 

“You are, yes,” he confirmed before he leaned in just close enough that his breath would ghost over Tobirama's neck and shoulder with every word he said. It made Tobirama squirm in his hold, another whimper falling from his kiss-swollen, parted lips. “Such a good omega. So lovely and good for me.”

“Ngh,” was all Tobirama could say in response, it seemed.

Already overwhelmed and they have barely even started. Not that Madara minded, of course. 

He moved his hand away after one more careful press of his thumb. Then he finally closed the remaining distance and kissed right over the gland only to then sink his teeth into it until he tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood. 

Tobirama screamed as he came. His hold on Madara tightened and his head fell back against the pillows, leaving the long line of his neck on full display. Madara licked at the blood slowly seeping out of the bite before he kissed his way up Tobirama's neck, sucking gently at the pale skin. When he reached Tobirama's lips, he kissed the omega hard and deep, his tongue curling against Tobirama's.

It took a few long moments before they broke apart. Tobirama was panting, completely out of breath. His glazed over eyes were focused on Madara and he smiled, a dopey, sweet smile that made him look as happy and content as he smelled.

Madara returned that smile while he ran his fingers over the bite, healing it just enough that it wouldn't bleed or hurt. Selfishly, he wished it would scar. It wasn't a mating bite, but it was still a claim; a way to show Tobirama was his and only his.