#and the thought of hand drawing proper bricks makes me go >:(

[jokerx-art]

rough background practice but it's ews

[overstuffd]

So, feedee werewolf won, obviously, because you're all a bunch of bottoms (loving).

So here are some more thoughts.

When I find you in the woods you're cold, scared - and hungry.

I bring you back to my cottage, offer you some clothes to replace your soaked rags. They're a few sizes too big but you're grateful.

Slowly, you piece together last night. The transformation - the gorging yourself on chickens from the farmer a few miles over.

I smile and offer you a firm, gentle hand. Don't worry - I'm here to help. You're so relieved you don't notice how deep my nails dig into the flesh of your arm.

First, I want you comfortable. I draw you a warm bath to shake off the night before. The fire is crackling, and the incense I light leaves you feeling dozy and calm.

After your bath there are more soft, large clothes - you wonder who they are for - and a proper meal, you look like you need one, poor thing!

You don't realise how late it's gotten, but I've prepared a King's supper. A roast ham and a whole cold chicken, a loaf of bread still warm from the oven, a huge tray of butter roasted potatoes, pumpkin and carrots, glazed in honey. There are soft fried eggs in a dish, and jars of cramy sauces and pickles. You set about making yourself a huge sandwhich, and you're almost done before you realise you didn't wait to be invited to eat.

You blush as you look up at at me, but I wave your concerns away. I set the table for you, enjoy it.

As you eat, I explain your condition, and the words are so distracting you barely notice how many brick sized sandwiches you're gulping down.

You're a werewolf, poor little lamb, I explain. The fellow with the dark eyes you let take you home from the bar a few weeks ago - those bite marks aren't the only thing he left with you.

Your curse is to transform every full moon into a creature controlled purely by desire and animal need - yourself in an unihinited, bestial form, with power to do as you will. I know, it must be scary sweet thing - here, try one of these custard buns.

The good news is, as you've probably guessed, I'm more than just familar with the arcane and supernatural. I'm quite a skilled practitioner of magics, and with your cooperation I can make the next full moon much less dangerous for everyone.

You're so grateful to hear - the memories of the night before that are flashning through your mind scare you, as much as they stir something else, deep at the root of your stomach.

I tell you to eat up and get some sleep, I'll begin your training - your instruction, that is - tomorrow.

-

You wake and breakfast is ready - cooked meats, more eggs and poetatoes, and pastries, fruit - you don't take it all in before you start eating, you're ravenous.

Your hair is longer, you notice as I idly play with it, and is spreading down you neck and across your shoulders. You shovel more eggs, another chocolate stuffed puff-pastry treat, not thinking it at all strange as I work out one of the stress knots in your shoulder.

After breakfast - the third plate of which you eat at my insistence - I start teaching you about herblore.

Your wolf form - I explain - is an extension of your self. Don't think of yourself and them as separate creatures, they are your needs and desires made flesh. The better state you are going into the full moon, the more docile your wolf form.

As I talk, you are distracted by my fingers rolling thumb-fat herbal cigarettes into tight cones. My voice watches ovr you as the repetitive movement makes you feel dozy.

Lavender, or course, and chamomile, for calm and stillness. Mallow root for dreaminess. Oatflower for - making you open to influence. My, postitive influence. Heather for appetite - you're going to need your strength. Mugwort to enhance sensation, to keep you in touch with your body. A few others from my garden - I'm passioante about creating potent cross strains.

I place one of the joints in your mouth and light the tip, flicking away the ash as your hungry mouth starts the cone before your conscious mind has time to realise what's happening. I pull the joint away and take a hit myself, you taking a moment to greedily gasp air, before I press my lips against yours and shotgun the herbal mixture directly into your neuro-cortex.

Your head swims, and your brain short circuits as I place a hand on your thigh. You stuggle to regain your composure, as a bell in the kitchen goes off.

Oh - lunch is ready!

As I sidle off to the kitchen, you realise how warm you feel between your thighs from the contact.

-

Lunch is a shepherds pie, and I make no move to serve a portion, just place the whole dish in front of you with a huge spoon breaking the crisp crust and fragrant steam spilling into the air.

You don't hesitate, you pick up the spoon and start digging in. The food smells delicious, and you're already ravenous despite the huge breakfast. You swallow mouthful after mouthful of rich, savoury food as I explain more to you, slowly and clearly like you've realise you need.

Fullness is important. I explain, gently. I'm across the table but my foot is playing with the inside fo your thigh. The hungrier you are, the more dangerous your wolf is. It's so important that you stay full. I'm going to do my best, okay, but you need to tell me as soon as there's any room in your belly, sweet thing.

You nod happily, barely looking up from you pie.

Good dog, I say, as I ruffle you hair.

-

Dinner comes, pinning you to you chair in the kitchen, and as you eat I explain how important it is that you indulge all your needs now, while you're still a soft, safe human.

You are barely listening, enjoying dragging more of the soft, fresh and heavily buttered bread through more of the delicious, spiced stew. It's one again full of my specially chosen herbs, but you don't need to know that. You've found yourself needing to know less and less all day.

You look a little pent up dear, I say, softly, walking round to your end of the table. No - you keep eating. I know just what to do.

I slide under the table and gently pull down the trousers I leant you. They're loose - for now - and come down easily so I can take you in mouth. I gently suck as you swallow more food.

I don't know if you realise how much you're moaning, but I suspect it has as much to do with the meal as it does with my fingers teasing your hole.

You finish your dinner before you finish in my mouth, already such a good pet. Tomorrow we'll have much more to do to make you safe, but for now I'll walk your heavy, drowsy form to the bed and rub your bloated belly till you sleep.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

omg local baker who Mike has baking abbys bday cake but he has a crush on her ????

Oh my God this is so cute to me. I wanna run a coffee shop/mini bakery and this is just perfect and beautiful omg

I'm writing this with the idea that fnaf happened but didn't *happen* like no one died lmao

~~

Mike wasn't sure what to expect. At all.

It had been an incredibly tough year, each day somehow becoming more rough than the previous. From mom passing, to job hopping, to Aunt Jane trying to get the courts even more involved. Despite all that, he did his damndest to not let it affect Abby.

He knew in some aspects it was inevitable. A young child losing a parent was never easy; she heard his grumbling and arguments with Aunt Jane, the comments about not being able to pay Max, found papers he should have hidden a little better

But birthdays and holidays were sacred. That he made sure of.

So, against his pride and better judgement, he had asked Aunt Jane for a little help throwing Abby a birthday party. She was more than happy to, surprisingly, with the agreement they come up for Thanksgiving this year. And begrudgingly, he agreed.

That's how he ended up at the doorstep of a brick townhouse closer to the city, a paper in his hand with an address scrawled in his Aunt's too neat handwriting. She'd given him a list of stores and things and places and people to get everything from in order to throw a "proper birthday party."

He did a double take on the numbers and street address, making sure they matched and still slightly confused as to why he was at a person's house and not a store. With a shrug and a tired sigh, he knocked on the door, the scurrying of animals evident inside almost immediately followed by a "shush" as he heard another door shut before the one in front of him went to open.

He didn't know what to expect, and sure as hell didn't expect to have a girl a little younger than him open the door, an apron on and covered in flour. She looked almost frazzled for a moment before shutting the door behind her, eyes moving from the curious furry creatures to the man now in front of her.

"Hi, sorry," she sounded almost as tired and exasperated as he did, "been a busy day, and my lovely little fur-babies have been noisy."

She wiped her hands on her apron, "I - I don't think we've met before." Her eyebrows were scrunched, confusion etching into her features.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I'm Mike. My uh- my Aunt Jane suggested you to me. Told me you make the best cakes and cupcakes and gave me your address to place an order."

He could see the cogs working in her brain as she tried to pin poin who he was talking about, "Oh! That's right, she gave me a call the other day to make sure I'd have the time. You need the order for next Saturday, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, next Saturday at noon."

"Perfect, yes. Come in, we'll fill out the forms and get everything set. My pets are actually in the front room so you don't have to worry about them."

A cup of coffee, a curious conversation, and too many forms later, Mike felt like he was in a dream. The girl sitting across the table from him was captivating, a sense of excitement and passion he longed to have and admired. There was a sweetness to her, something he was sure he'd be able to taste in more ways than just her baking skills.

"Okay," her voice cut through his thoughts, "So, we're doing 24 cupcakes, half chocolate and half vanilla, then a 9 inch rounch cake with mint chocolate. And it's rainbow, fairy, unicorn, princess themed. Does that all sound right?"

He chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, sorry I couldn't give you more specifics. She's sort of all over the place and it's a surprise party."

"Oh no, don't worry. I'm going to have fun with this. Does she like glitter?"

He nodded again before taking a quick sip of his coffee. "Yeah, yeah. She loves glitter. Her favorite thing to do is draw as well."

"Perfect. Well, Mike, you're definitely more pleasant than your Aunt," she laughed softly, standing up and placing the form in a little file holder, "But don't tell her I said that. I'll send her the bill tomorrow. I hope Abby loves the cake."

Mike stood up, a tinge of disappointment that their interaction was coming to an end so soon. "I'm sure she will. She loves sweet." He sat his coffee cup in the sink. "So uh, when should I pick up the cake?"

"Oh! Don't worry about it. Jane invited me to the party so I'll just bring it all with me, I could use the networking with other parents so it works out."

His eyes widen some, lips twitching up into a small smile. "Okay, cool. I'll uh, I'll see you next week." He hesitated for a moment before grabbing a rogue napkin and the pen he was using to fill out the forms, quickly scribbling something onto it.

"Here," he handed her the napkin, "My number in case uh, in case you wanna talk more." He paused for a moment, watching her eyes scan the numbers, "For the uh. The cake. The party."

She giggled softly, looking at him as his features began to blush. "Yeah. For the cake and the party."

He chuckled anxiously, "Thanks again. I'll see you later." Mike let himself out before he could make himself even more embarrassed, standing on the porch for a moment after he closed the door behind him, unaware that the sweet baker was inside quietly squealing over the poorly written number.

[koalaphoenix]

I was going through my art folder on my phone and realized how far I've come with how I draw Shay (and her different forms).

Way back in 2021 I drew her for the first time. She effectively came from a dream I had, where I lived her life in one night. But the struggle was I never actually really saw what Shay/I looked like in the dream. I knew what I was, who I was, but not what I looked like, beyond my hands. One of the most spectacular dreams I've ever had, by the way.

So early on when I was streaming, I decided to take a crack at drawing the dragon woman I'd been in the dream. I couldn't even really remember my/her name, although with help from my friends it came to me.

The first sketch was... Rough, at best. I had no clue how to draw an anthro creature, which Shay effectively was. I used multiple references to even sorta rough out what I wanted, and the result was not spectacular. But it was a start.

Then I was memeing with my friends about our D&D characters. I fully intended to RP as Shay when we began a campaign. It led to the version above - the first proper drawing where I was mostly happy with her overall design.

Late 2021 and I tried to push myself a little further, although I still didn't know what I was doing.

Art block hit me like a truck for a few months. When I finally managed to get drawing again, the results were initially really, really bad. But it wasn't too long and I drew what would end up being a far more finalized version of her design, the template for many future works. She was a more agile figure than her design sketch. I adjusted her horns to make more sense anatomically, and to fit better with her hair.

And also I drew abs on her.

Then there were several more drawings. I touched on alternate versions, put her in some fun situations as self indulgence, tried to experiment with difficult poses. There was a lot of struggle, as I still couldn't quite get her head shape consistent.

Then I found some new resources, and on a whim I drew what's becoming my favorite alternate version of her: Shayaa.

(Flat color iteration shown)

Shayaa was born out of two thoughts. I wanted a version of Shay that was a little thicc, and I wanted a version where she hadn't been abandoned. This ended up with her in armor, and was a leap forward in terms of quality and some design cues. The softer snout, more defined mouth, and thicker horns ended up really helping me draw her more consistently.

I was worried that it was one of those cases where I went beyond my actual ability and wouldn't be able to replicate it, but I was mostly wrong.

I decided I wanted to adjust "prime" Shay's design a bit, to improve her visibly aging and to widen the gap between her and Shayaa to emphasize their differences. I thinned her up a bit, made her muscles more lean, and rounded her features to make her appear more youthful - she's in her early 20s at the start of Godbreaker, but I saw her design as more in her late 20s or early 30s. She was always intended to be more lean than I'd drawn her, but skill issue. I also kinda hated parts of her default outfit, they seemed off and weren't the easiest to draw.

And now? I'm pretty satisfied with her design. She looks younger and more lean, and ideally a little less "civilized." Her hair got spikier to make it easier for me to draw - I suck at floofy hair. She's still pretty big, at 6'7" tall, but she doesn't look like a brick house anymore (nothing wrong with that, I love brick houses, she was just not intended to be that).

But yeah. Going through the old art, a lot of which I can't add to this post, it really hit home to me how much in such a relatively short time she's changed since the first real sketch, how much I've changed...

...And how much has stayed the same.

Aaaand to not end on any sort of deep moment, holy shit her old feet were HUGE.

[honeylikesyanderes]

nsfw alphabet- bhodi 'bo' falor

18+ mdni!!

unedited

enjoy!! (and tell me who i should do next)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

very gentle and nurturing towards his darling after sex, but he can also be a bit needy himself, so darling has to take care of him as well.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

bhodi likes his hair and hands (because they're soft and pretty)

on his darling, he likes their neck and stomach.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

bhodi likes to cum inside you but if he cant, he likes cumming on your stomach.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when he's being pegged, he enjoys being degraded and spanked.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

bhodi is fairly experienced, not superrrr experienced, but he knows what he's doing and he's good at it.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

missionary. he likes to see your face.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

it depends. if he's in charge then he's a bit more silly/sweet, and giggly. he'll smile and shoot you winks and try not too take sex too seriously because he dislikes nervous tension.

however, if you're in charge and you want him to be serious, he has no problem being that way for you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

bhodi is a fan of manscaping, so he's mostly hairless everywhere. but if he lets his pubes grow out a bit, you'll realise that they're also blonde like his eyebrows (a darker shade of blonde).

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

like i said earlier, bhodi is super sweet and a bit silly during sex, but he's also so romantic and really tries to savour the moment.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

has a high libido, so jerking off is necessary for him. he kinda likes jerking off and usually will text you if you want to see. if you can, he'll facetime you; if you cant at the moment, he'll record it and send it to you as a vid :)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

bhodi enjoys rough sex when he's in charge. mostly because he likes the fact that you're sore the next day and it gives him a reason to baby you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

anywhere, anytime. when you're ready, so is he.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

everything you could possibly do makes bhodi hard.

you smile at him? bricked up. you laughed and put a hand on his chest? stiff af. you sat in his lap? might cum. he had a fleeting thought ab you at work? he's running to his private bathroom to rub one out.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

impact play to the point where you're sobbing, scat and vomit.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

loves to give oral and can do it for hours without expecting anything in return. will give oral till his jaw aches. will give you oral till you're overstimulated and begging for him to stop.

as for receiving, he's pretty thick so he's a bit careful. he doesn't mind receiving ofc, he just doesn't want you to hurt yourself.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on the day and who's in control. he prefers rough most times, but it mostly depends on what his darling wants.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

bhodi prefers proper sex because foreplay is his favourite part, but if you're horny in public and you wanna do it, he doesn't mind giving you a round or two in a nearby bathroom or closet.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

bhodi is pretty open minded and doesn't mind experimenting but when he says no, it means no fr.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

bhodi can last about 3 short rounds of proper sex, however, he does draw out foreplay for a long time as that's his favourite part.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

ah yeah, bhodi has quite a bit of toys. he uses them on himself and on his darling. would love if his darling used some of them on him tho

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

bhodi can tease sometimes, but he's more into overstimulation. so rather than you begging him to give it to you, he prefers you begging him to stop bc you're overstimulated.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

bhodi is so loud. grunting, moaning, whimpering, begging (if thats the case), praising, degrading. he's loud and he loves it and so do you. he wants you to know how good you are and how amazing you're making him feel.

bhodi is 100% the type to moan while giving you head.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

period sex.

thank you

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

wee woo

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

high libido. second horniest oc after avanti tbh.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

bhodi prefers for you to fall asleep first before he falls asleep. he's pretty used to staying awake after cumming tho, but since he loves you, he'll cuddle and drift off after you have.

[nakedmonkey]

101 for work wives, please? If you're still doing the pinned prompt game

“this feels dirty” “that’s because it is” or Barbara is spontaneous for once in her life

(I couldn't help but notice there was a little store across the street from Abbott and I thought, well, where there's a store there's a dirty alley)

"Okay," Barbara says when they're outside, freezing their butts off. "Next year, we'll go back to just you and me."

"You sure won't miss being visited by the ghost of NPR's past?" Melissa scoffs, because she warned her about this.

Beyond the fact that their annual holiday dinner is the one time they can have a public date and dress it up as a work thing, Melissa tried to warn Barbara against inviting anyone to join them, let alone Jacob of all people. They should be flirting over a nice bottle of red right now, not losing feeling of their faces to get a little reprieve from the world's wettest blanket.

"Okay, come with me."

Melissa gasps at the tug on her hand that gets her walking--no, not walking, but running across the street, through traffic, toward the alley behind the supermarket.

"Where are we going? Ugh, it smells--" Melissa's complaints are swiftly silenced by the pair of lips she's been staring at all day, and a slightly possessive grip on her hips that guides her backward until her back meets a brick wall.

"I'm sorry," Barbara says when she pulls back, her voice hushed as her eyes dart from Melissa to where they left the camera guys behind, and back.

Barbara's gaze immediately softens when she looks at her again and, well, Melissa is not immune to the way Barbara looks at her when no one else is around. She melts, and she feels her anger from earlier dissolve against her will as her own arms move to circle Barbara's waist so she can pull her closer. She's missed having her this close. November and December are always the hardest to find time together. She refers to this time of year as The Barbara Draught. Barbara doesn't find it very amusing, but Melissa thinks it's actually pretty clever.

"People aren't going to guess we're fucking because we have a Christmas dinner alone together every year, you know. People who don't fuck have dinner together all the time."

Barbara makes a face at the profanity and sighs but she lets Melissa pull her closer.

"I don't want to have to explain myself," Barbara says and Melissa would roll her eyes if she didn't think it would just make things worse at this point. The concept of Barbara not willing to compromise is not exactly new to her after all.

"I just want to have a nice night with you," Barbara adds and then, shocking Melissa for the third or fourth time tonight, leans in and kisses her soundly before drawing back about an inch or so, her chest still fush against Melissa's. "Do you want to have a nice night with me?"

Melissa smiles and leans into their following kiss, moans into it when she feels Barbara's thigh press into her, but, not one to be outdone, Melissa glides a gloved hand up between them, briefly palms Barbara's left breast, and then cups her jaw, holding her there as she momentarily breaks their kiss to say, "I guess that depends."

"On?" Barbara asks, eyes staring hungrily at Melissa's mouth.

Melissa smiles up at her and then whispers, "On how you plan on making it up to me."

"This feels dirty," Barbara says just as an especially bright pair of headlights shows them both just where they are and Melissa winces, pushing away from the wall.

"That's because it is, let's get out of here." She replies, shaking whatever might have clung to her, hopefully, out of her hair and then points an accusatory finger at Barbara to add, "You."

Barbara looks up as she brushes an invisible something off her shoulders.

"You owe me a proper apology and I'm going to hold you to it."

Smirking, Barbara says, "We can leave in 20," and then, leaning in close, adds, "And then I have all evening to properly apologize."

For the second, Barbara looks as if she'll break her "no PDA" rule again, and Melissa holds her breath as she sees her start to lean in, when, across the street, Jacob bursts through the school doors, spotting them immediately before running across the street and nearly getting himself run over.

"Ladies, don't move, I'll be right back!" He shouts before heading toward the supermarket. "Or--you can move, just uh, don't leave!"

"That boy..." Barbara grumbles, and Melissa shakes her head.

"Let's go back inside now," she says, briefly holding Barbara's hand as they cross the street back to Abbott, and she thinks, when Barbara ushers her inside with a hand not-so-discreetly on her ass, that these will be the longest 20 minutes of her life.

[misericorsalvator]

So... About 12 miles northeast of Cardiff, right on the banks of the Usk, there’s a city called Newport. It’s been around since Medieval times, Newport, and there’s na a greater testament to that than Newport Castle, built around the 14th century by the Normans. It was a big landmark of Newport, drawing in all sorts curious about its origins until it was closed to the public about a decade ago or so. Left to rot and decay ever since. There’s not much left of the structure anymore. A good bit of it’s crumbled and fallen away over the centuries, but it’s still got two of its towers and, like most castles around these parts, its fair share of urban legends. And a few nights ago, I was sent to investigate one of em.

I didn’t know what I’d find, if anything, but the old lady I’d been told to meet was grabbing onto her old worn-out rosary beads til her wiry knuckles went pale, could see the bones moving under her skin as her hands shook. She looked like she’d seen a ghost-- and a real one, at that. So I went with her from the Riverside Bar and across Newport’s bridge, then down a narrow side street to the right, under the main road proper where two storm drain tunnels go through. I don’t know if there used to be a better way to get in, back in its prime, but all that’s left now’s this half-painted iron fence, tricked out in rust and graffiti, going around what’s left of the castle to keep folk out. 

Like I said, there’s only the two towers now, centuries-old bricks barely holding themselves together around the narrow arches and crumbling windows, and a line of wall that’s connecting them, taken over by overgrowth and moss. Whole place smells of old stone and humidity, in that way where you can feel it sticking to your skin. Or, uh...scales, I suppose.

It’d started getting dark around that point; the old lady wouldn’t stay any longer. Not that I would’ve asked her to. If what she’d been on about on the walk there was true, it’d be better if she was away elsewhere, safe. She told me to be careful, crossed me with her rosary, and I watched her go back up to the main road, where she got in a cab and drove off. With her out of the way and less than an hour of sunlight left, I set up shop in one of the drain tunnels and waited. Won’t lie, I uh...had some doubts. Ghost stories, that’s the sort of thing you hear every day when there’s someplace old and crumbling nearby. And a devout old lady who told me she’d taken me for a demon dressed black like that, well... As I said, had my doubts. 

Turned out I shouldn’t have. It was just like she’d described. Right after sundown, when the last bits of light had faded, I heard this...guttural growl that rattled the loosest stones on the moss-covered wall and echoed down the storm drain I’d holed up in. Couldn’t make out what it was right then, or where it’d come from-- Then the towers shook, like some localized earthquake, and from one of those narrow windows on the wall, I saw a clawed hand reach and grab, and pull itself up until it heaved the rest of its bulbous body out of the river behind the castle. Its sharp claws dug into the stone, damaging it further, until it’d dragged itself up to the tallest of the two towers. It rose to its full height. Must’ve been...three, three and a half meters tall? Twice my size, cleaning off its dusty dark claws on its matted discoloured fur, dragging its battered, torn wings behind it. Never seen anything of its like before. 

I heard people walking, then, on the street above. I’d been following the creature’s path up the wall with my shotgun, packed full of Dragon’s Breath ammo, ready to blow its head off-- but the creature didn’t move. Just...stared at the street, hidden by the dark and the shadows of the castle, and when a car drove by, lighting up the tower, it crouched. Dropped to the floor and out of sight, until the light went away, and bit by bit, it rose again. It hadn’t noticed me. Or, didn’t act like it. Didn’t do much of anything other than stare, hide when it thought some passerby might see it, then stand again, over and over, always watching the street. And I watched it. For hours. 

‘Til the late afternoon gave way to night, the night to midnight, to the early hours of the morn... And when the distant sky started to take on the orange hues of sunrise, the creature finally stirred from its repetitive motions. It stretched its broad back and the atrophied muscles of its wings, licked clean its talons and wiped them on its dried, discoloured fur. Then it turned around, looked at the sun as it peaked its head over the horizon, walked to the edge of the tower with slow, heavy steps that left it shaking in its foundations... and dove over the edge, in a wide arch, landing into the river beyond with splash.

...To this day, I don’t know what the hell it was. Asked around a bit, but no one I could talk to had heard of it. And...I had work to do, so. Didn’t really have time to go chasing ghosts.

@grandpa-dragon

[kaizoku-musume]

Pinned Down

Entry #19 in @xxsycamore’s Visions of Temptation kinktober event. Link to Ao3.

Fandom: Steam Prison

Pairing: Cyrus x Ulrik

Word count: 1.5k

Prompts: Phone Sex | Wet Dreams

For the fifth time, Ulrik glanced down at Cyrus’ hand, just a few centimeters from his as they walked side by side down the street, running an errand for Eltcreed. Usually Cyrus followed along behind him; this was the closest they’d been since Eltcreed had hired her, and Ulrik couldn’t help but focus on their proximity. He should move away, but that would be too telling. What’s worse, he was more concerned with finding out how Cyrus’ hand would feel against his than maintaining a proper distance. She came from the Heights, so normally one would assume she’d have soft, perfectly manicured hands. But she used a sword, so she should have calluses, right?

This was stupid. So what if she was a paradox? There was no point in thinking about it. Ulrik was about to step forward, screw being obvious, when Cyrus suddenly grabbed his arm and shoved him into an alley. Ulrik struggled on instinct, but Cyrus’ grip was unrelenting, her military training allowing her to outmaneuver his resistance. She dragged him into the shadows and slammed him against the bricks, pressing close behind him, pinning him to the wall.

“What are you doing?” Ulrik demanded, pushing back to no avail. Cyrus just plastered herself to his back, her chest and hips flush against his.

“Shh,” she whispered right by his ear. Ulrik fought the shudder that threatened to follow. “I saw one of the HOUNDS up ahead. They were coming our way.”

“And you thought this was a good idea to avoid them?” Ulrik whisper-yelled, feeling a bit tingly wherever Cyrus was touching him.

“I didn't have a better plan in mind,” Cyrus said, her breath tickling his neck. Oh, this was bad. Ulrik could feel his body respond to all the stimuli. Cyrus’ body heat was searing, her arms caging him in like he was under her protection.

“Well, get off! You don’t need to be on top of me to hide,” Ulrik demanded.

“Two people in an alley is more noticeable,” Cyrus explained, “We have a better chance of going unnoticed like this.”

That didn’t make sense. They could be side by side and stay just as hidden. Ulrik opened his mouth to say just that but Cyrus hushed, “Quiet, they’re about to pass us.” Reflex kept him silent, ears pricked toward the entrance of the alley. He could hear multiple pairs of footsteps pass by, but nothing indicating it was specifically a HOUND that was approaching-no heavy steps from boots or the like. How could Cyrus tell?

“Did they leave?” Ulrik asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said, “We should probably stay here for a bit just in case.” That wasn’t happening. There was no way Ulrik could stay here for one more second. He made one more attempt to break free, trying to find the wiggle room to throw an elbow back or something. She responded by pressing impossibly closer, bumping his hips against the wall. A small sound escaped Ulrik at the contact. They both froze.

Shit.

In the few seconds of tense silence that followed, Ulrik desperately hoped that Cyrus somehow hadn’t heard him, or if she had, that she had the presence of mind not to address it. But his hopes were dashed when she finally said, “Are you really getting off on this right now?”

Ulrik sputtered in shock at being called out. Cyrus didn’t seem like the type of person to say something like that, either. “What are you talking about? Just move already!”

“Keep your voice down,” Cyrus didn’t budge an inch, “Stop struggling. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” One of her hands drifted down to his waist. “Will you calm down if I take care of it?”

What. the. Fuck? Was Ulrik going crazy? Was Cyrus really suggesting what he thought she was?

Cyrus appeared to take his silence as a yes, because she began undoing his belt. “Wait, wait, wait!” Ulrik’s voice rose again, “Are you really doing this? Too late, he realized he hadn’t told her to stop or tried to push her hand away.

“Of course,” Cyrus, facing no resistance, easily unsnapped his button, “It’s my fault you’re like this in the first place. I have to take responsibility for my actions.” That . . . sort of sounded like something she would say. In any situation other than this one!

“You don’t have to!” Ulrik tried once more, still stunned frozen (not that he could move much if he wanted to).

A full-body shiver wracked through Ulrik when Cyrus pressed her lps right against his ear and murmured, “But you want me to, don’t you? I know you’ve been thinking about how it would feel if I touched you.” Ulrik bit his lip in guilt. Morals didn’t exist in the Depths, but fantasizing about your coworker when she was right next to you had to be a special kind of wrong.

Taking advantage of Ulrik’s inner conflict, Cyrus tugged his half-hard cock out of his pants, giving him a few quick strokes before he could react. Ulrik couldn’t stop himself from jerking into her touch. She did have calluses, all along her fingers and palm, worn over from time. It added an interesting texture to her tight, sure grip. “Cyrus,” he put up a token protest, hardly believing that he was going to allow Cyrus to get him off in this kind of situation.

What happened to the HOUND, anyway? Didn’t Cyrus want them to be careful? This was really risky if they hadn’t left yet. Why was Cyrus okay with this? Suspicion bloomed in the back of Ulrik’s mind, but it was blown away when Cyrus nibbled on his earlobe and began pumping him for real.

“Just relax. Let yourself feel good. Don’t worry about anything but my touch. Show me what feels best for you,” Cyrus’ voice dripped like honey, wiping away all thoughts that weren’t centered on their little pocket of privacy. Her hand expertly squeezed and stroked his cock, thumb coming up to swipe across his tip. Ulrik groaned and rested his forehead against the wall. If Cyrus was confident they could do this without getting caught then he might as well go along with it. Who knows when he’ll ever get this chance again?

“Where’d you learn this anyway?” Ulrik said accusingly. He was pretty sure Cyrus was a virgin. Sure, Eltcreed was shady just like everyone else in the Depths, but there was no way he was the type to take advantage of his employees, right? Or could it be someone else entirely?

“Nowhere in particular,” Cyrus’ mouth shifted down to his neck, “I’ve just thought about this a lot. You have no idea how tempting you are.” She sucked on his neck, applying various amounts of suction to test what affected Ulrik the most (harder, with teeth). She sped up the pace of her hand, fingers gliding over his dick.

“There-there’s no way,” Ulrik choked out. Cyrus still being invested in him as a friend was surprising enough after all his antagonism, but to hear that she wanted more? Even if it was just a way to relieve stress or physical attraction, Ulrik wouldn’t have expected that. But her hand on his cock and her lips on his neck and her hips grinding into him, mimicking-holy shit-mimicking her fucking him all pointed toward her words being true.

“How could I not adore you? You’re sweet even when you pretend not to be, you’re clever and tough enough to survive as long as you have down here, and you’re the right size for me to hold like this,” Cyrus flattened his hips to the wall, surrounding him.

Ulrik couldn’t think of a thing to say in response, too lost in the feel of her perfect grip, hand moving lighting-fast on his cock, her marks on his neck stinging with the aftershocks of pain. Noises spilled out of his mouth unwillingly, reverberating off the stones around them. Instead of feeling trapped, Ulrik felt . . . guarded. He knew that Cyrus was going to take care of him.

“More,” he urged, eyes slammed shut against the sensations she was putting him through. He managed to bring one arm down so he could grip onto her waist as she rocked into him, “Cyrus, more!”

“Do you know what else I like about you?” Cyrus sighed into the nape of his neck. Ulrik was so close, he just needed one more push, a few more strokes. “I know you like me too. It’s so obvious. The way you can’t stop staring at me, the way your thoughts always drift to me. Why don’t you admit it to yourself?”

Ulrik’s eyes shot open in shock and denial. Instead of brick walls, he was facing a soft, white piece of fabric; instead of Cyrus behind him, he was tangled in a large, wrap-like object. Disoriented, it took Ulrik a few moments to realize he was in bed, trapped in the sheets with a slightly damp spot in his pants from precome. His cock was still hard, close to an orgasm from grinding against the mattress.

Face flushed bright red, Ulrik buried his head in the pillow. Fuck, now he was having wet dreams about her? There was no way he liked Cyrus. He just paid her a lot of attention because she was suspicious, that was all.

And if he brought a hand down to finish the job to thoughts of her, well, no one but him had to know.

[homeybadger]

In Your Head: Part Two

Summary: When you head to Hawkins for your cousin's funeral, you didn't expect to be roped into saving the world. To be fair- you didn't expect her to interrupt her own funeral either.

Pairings: Chrissy Cunningham x cousin! reader, Billy Hargrove x friend! reader

Warnings: One swear word, reader insults themselves

Word count: 800

Note: Sorry that these are so short!

Part Three is here

Italics is the reader’s thoughts

As your foot made contact with the ground just outside the front door of the church a chill tingled through your body. Instinctively, your arms drew closer to your chest.

Leave it to the weather.

You scoffed quietly as you heard the door click shut, walking a few steps forward before haphazardly glancing behind you. The man you’d bumped into on your way out had given you a strange look- and while you couldn’t care less due to your current situation you didn’t want to be interrupted.

Giving yourself the internal all-clear you began your obligatory walking around the building. Your gaze swept left and right, up and down- every so often glancing behind you to make sure nobody was following you. After the fifth loop, you came to the conclusion that there was absolutely no one else outside.

You groaned.

See? I knew it, this is just stupid. She’s dead, she’s gone. Just go back inside and forget about it.

You couldn’t tell if a sigh or a sob left your mouth as you made your way towards the wall you were following. Abandoning all care for your appearance, you plopped onto the dirt and allowed the back of your skull to rest on the brick. A tear, hot and heavy, dripped from your cheek.

You’re so stupid y/n.

You shook your head quickly, attempting to erase the thought from your mind.

Maybe I should at least try. I saw her, heard her. She deserves someone who would try.

You drug your legs closer to yourself, drawing in a deep breath. Your eyes fluttered shut as you imagined Chrissy. The sight of her just a few moments ago- tangled blonde hair sticking up in numerous directions, eye shadow smudged into rings around her eyes- was burned into your subconscious. A static sensation crept up the back of your skull, branching upwards from around the base of your neck. You scrunched your face slightly, the unusual sensation lingering for a brief moment before ultimately fading away. Hesitantly, you blinked your eyes open before glancing around.

Nothing.

Still nothing.

Then, you could feel everything.

Your entire body tensed as a violent tremor ripped into you, muscles tensing as you shook. You could feel your breath being choked from you, heart hammering rapidly in your chest. Your eyes widened in alarm as you threw yourself forward, ignoring the pain from landing on a stray rock in favor of whirling around fast enough to nearly send you to the ground once more. Your jaw dropped open as your line of sight connected with a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Holy shit, I was sitting on her. Or would the proper term be through her?

You stumbled backwards as Chrissy rushed forward into you, desperately clinging onto your clothes. Her grip strength was startlingly strong, and as you shuffled the two of you out of sight of the parking lot you could feel a damp spot growing on your clothes. Her frantic sobs tossed her entire body, and the only thing you knew to do was cradle her.

“I have so much to tell you.”

Chrissy’s voice was barely audible over the noises of the wide life, as if nervous she’d spook you like one would a deer. You smiled softly as you tilted your head slightly- nodding at her to begin.

She spilled everything she could- from the drug deal to the game to Eddie to being trapped inside her own mind. Somewhere during her tale the two of you once again found yourselves sitting on the ground, but that was inconsequential compared to the words tumbling from her mouth. When she finished, you could only find the strength to stare at her.

She grabbed onto your hand tightly, searching your face for answers.

“So… you’re telling me that there’s a monster or something attacking Hawkins?”

You tried to keep all doubt from your voice, yet cringed anyway as a tad bit slipped out. You pinched the bridge of your nose as yet another sigh escaped your lips.

“This is crazy.”

Chrissy’s iron grip on your hand somehow tightened even more, fear clouding her face. You opened your mouth to explain that you weren’t going to leave her side anytime soon, only to be interrupted by Chrissy’s soft voice once more.

“Not as crazy as you talking to me.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“That’s fair.”

Silence enveloped the two of you as you wracked your brain for a course of action. How were you supposed to go about this- you weren’t police, and saying you spoke with the deceased wouldn’t get you far.

How on earth would I explain this?

Chrissy’s other hand shot forward, haphazardly grasping at your shoulder.

“Let’s go to Eddie Munson’s house. Maybe we’ll find some clues there.”

[kookscrescent]

A Needy, Desperate Fuck Up (m) │ pjm

❒ pairing: jimin x female reader ❒ summary: jimin’s desperation leads to a fuck up. ❒ prompt: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that's not fucking good!" and "Fuck! I'm not on the pill!" ❒ rating: nc-17, 18+ ❒ genre: smut, pwp ❒ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing, accidental creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking, crying, Jimin is neeedyyyy for that puzz puzz ❒ word count: 3.1k │ unedited ❒ release date: may 8th 2021 ❒ disclaimer: This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

The door to your bedroom barely has a chance to close properly before Jimin has you pressed flat against the wall. The coldness of the exposed brick wall has goosebumps rising on your rapidly heating skin, and you shudder at the contact.

But you don’t care. All you can think about is the way Jimin feels pressed against your body – the hard panels of his toned chest and abdominal muscles, not to mention his hard length growing against your leg.

You can’t help but moan at the feeling. It’s been way too long since you and Jimin have had sex! He’s been extremely busy with recording for the new album, and his schedule is almost jammed packed every day, and on the rare occasion that he has a few hours of free time, you would much rather have him spend it on catching up on some rest.

But something had come over him the minute he opened your front door and stepped inside. Like you normally would, you’d yelled out a hello to him, letting him know you were in the kitchen, with your hands buried in the dirty dish water as you were cleaning the few dishes you had neglected since the day before. You hadn’t heard him call back a hello to you like he normally would, but you thought he might just be tired and didn’t really think anything of it. However, you did hear him entering the kitchen and stopping just behind you. About to ask him if he was hungry and if he wanted you to make him something, you’d dried your hands on the nearest rag, but you didn’t even manage to get a proper look at him before his hands were in your hair and his lips were claiming yours in a hard kiss.

It took your breath away. Literally. The rag fell to the floor without a sound and without pulling away to question his sudden behavior you grabbed his face in your hands, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and stepped forward, pushing his chest and pelvis against your body. he was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes cold from the slight breeze outside, but his hands and lips warm and hot against your skin.

Things escalated pretty quickly from that point and you honestly can’t really remember the journey from the kitchen to your bedroom. Every breath you each take is rushed and breathy, and all you seem to recall is hands frantically trying to remove pieces of clothing and said clothing landing haphazardly on the floor in a line behind you. Hard and wet kisses to your lips and neck, and your hands desperately trying to undo the string on Jimin’s joggers.

At this point you’ve both managed to get each other undressed, both of you now lying naked on the bed, Jimin hovering above you, your legs caging him in and his hard cock resting between your soaked folds as he slowly grinds himself against you. Your mouths are a hot mess, lips slipping and sliding over each other and your tongues erotically dancing.

It’s like all hell have broken loose and the both of you have just lost it. You have no idea what has spurred on his sudden desperate need to claim you, but you can’t say that you mind one bit. You’re equally as desperate to have him, not having felt him inside of you for almost three weeks!

Throwing your head back, you groan as the tip of his cock nudge your clit. “Shit, that feels so good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You find his eyes, hoping to god he won’t stop moving against you.

He leans down for another kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your sweet pussy!” He rumbles, lifting to his hands so he can watch his cock effortlessly slid between your folds, your slick coating every thick inch of him. “Fuck, I need to taste you baby.”

With a jerk he moves down your body, your legs automatically parting wider to make room for him. Once settles between your legs, Jimin looks up at you from under lust clouded eyes, his pupils so dark and intense that you become slightly nervous. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of your thigh, he gently and ever so slowly runs the tip of his pointer finger down your slit, collecting your juices before sucking his finger clean.

He groans and you almost dissipate on the spot. His finger returns to your heat as another kiss is pressed to the juncture of your thigh. He repeats his previous action – running his finger down your slit, collecting your arousal, but he stops at your entrance, teasingly circling your hole. He pushes in just an inch before retreating and you mumble a frustrated please. You lock eyes, just as a second finger joins the first and he pushes in all the way to his knuckles.

Your head hits the pillows in a sigh of relief. He pushes in and out of you in a slow and tantalizing rhythm. It has your head swimming, and you need more.

“Please Jimin, please! Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you baby?” he repeats and following with a kiss right above your clit. “Why not?”

Arrogant shit, you think!

“It’s been so long…” you mumble, your voice muffled by the pillows when he begins to pick up the pace. “Make me cum!”

“Hmmm,” he places another kiss above your clit, so close to touching but never enough to give you the relief you want. He begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, and the familiar fire starts in your stomach. “Want me to make you cum with my mouth babygirl?”

You nod frantically! “Yes yes yes ye- ahhhh!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Jimin’s tongue finally making contact with your clit. He gently licks it – long fat swipes with his warm tongue.

The sounds coming out of you is only spurring him on. Two fingers turn to three and he sucks your clit so violently it has your hips rising from the bed. He easily folds one arm across your lower abdomen, holding you down as he continues to suck.

The fire picks up, and your cries grows louder and louder with each suck of his mouth and each thrust of his fingers. You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever wanted, no needed, to cum so desperately. You can almost taste the release on your tongue. So close.

You can feel how eager Jimin is to make you explode on his tongue as well. He pushes the entirety of his face into your soaked pussy. His tongue working you so feverishly, his nose bumping your sensitive clit.

You grasp at his hair, pushing his face deeper into you and he groans in respond. The vibration sending a wave of tingles through your clit and all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You feel like your brain is no longer connected to the rest of your body, your legs and hips having a life of their own – bucking wildly against his face, trying to reach your high.

Slipping his fingers out of you, he reaches up to press your hips to the bed with both of his hands, making you completely immobilized.

You’re about to whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, but Jimin is quick to replace them with his fat tongue instead.

“Ah…ah Jimin- oh god!” You moan.

He continues his feast. Slurping and sucking every inch of your wet pussy. You’re so close, so fucking close to cumming, every nerve in your body is on high alert, ready to explode in a fit of euphoria.

Jimin moans between your legs. Loving the way your sweet juices cover his face and tongue. If he’s not careful, the mere taste of you on his tongue combined with the way you sound when you’re losing control, he could probably cum.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You plead, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp, yanking at his hair.

He doesn’t stop. Jimin keeps going, your moaning pleas urging him to go even faster, and he throws his fingers back into the equation. Plunging two fingers into your tight hole and working them at the same fast rhythm as his tongue on your clit.

When your grip on his hair becomes almost too painfully tight, he knows your cumming.

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Ohhhhhhh…!!”

He keeps lapping up every inch of you until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every small inch of your orgasm. Only when your hands fall limply to the bad, does he ease up.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way back up your body. He seems just as out of breath as you are, but you can tell that he’s no way near finished with you.

And you would be sourly disappointed if he were.

*

“God you’re so hot!” Jimin breaths, lips hovering above yours, barely touching. He thumbs your lower lip, drawing it down before flicking his tongue across it. Locking his eyes on yours, he holds your gaze as he works his hips between your legs.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lets the other arm travel behind your body to roughly grab onto your ass cheek, squeezing it tightly as he grinds his pelvis against you, letting his pelvis rub against your still sensitive clit as his cock is nestled deep inside of you.

Lifting, you reach for his mouth, your breast pressing against his sweaty chest. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly begins drawing back his hips and pushing his cock back inside with a hard thrust. He repeats this several times. Each time pushing a little deeper and thrusting a little harder.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, he whispers, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard on my cock.”

“Please!”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes! God yes!”

He forces one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves to sit on his knees, trapping your remaining leg between his. This automatically causes you to roll to your side, changing the position and making him go deeper.

Fisting the sheets, you hold on for dear life as Jimin begins fucking into you at an almost violent pace. He kisses your shin as he uses your leg as leverage to push himself faster and deeper inside of you.

It’s a bruising pace – hard, fast and rough.

“I-I… Jimin!” You hoarsely call out his name as heat washes through your body and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Shit! Are you gonna cum baby?” His eyes zero in on the way your pussy swallows his cock so desperately, your wall tightening and sucking him in. “Fuck you’re getting so tight!” He whines almost painfully.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing through you like a volcano erupting. Your entire body is convulsing and tingling with the sweet feeling of the release you’ve missed so much. And even when you’re spend and don’t think you can take much more, Jimin keeps going. He fucks you through the waves aftershocks till they subside, and you feel a new knot of fire starting to form.

Your pussy spasms around his cock and it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Oh my fucking god!”

“Fuck! How do you keep getting tighter?!” He throws his head to the ceiling with a deep growl, his fingers digging into your flesh and he slows down to let your both catch your breath.

“Kiss me please,” you manage to stammer out the few words, needing to feel him close to you again.

With your leg still over his shoulder, he leans down on his elbows till he’s able to slot his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. You claim his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as your tongue licking its way inside. It’s wet and messy, and Jimin switches his rhythm to match the pace of the kiss. Slowly, he grinds his hips against yours as your mouths make love. It’s a complete switch of mood from what it was mere seconds ago. But none the less, the know forming in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing.

Jimin pick up the pace once again. Frantically, desperately snapping his hips against yours – the sound of your skin slapping together and the squelch of your juices as the pumps in and out, filling the room.

“Fuck,” he breaths and finds your neck, licking a fat stripe from your ear to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He bits down softly and your face contorts in pleasure, hands scratching down his sweaty back.

You don’t know how he’s able to keep going like this, but you’re not about to tell him to slow down or stop. Not when the tingling feeling of another orgasm starts spreading through your body. But before the feeling can take full flight, Jimin stops to sit up on his haunches, and you whine loudly.

“Noooo!”

He laughs, running a hand through his thick wet locks. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ve got you.”

And he does. He doesn’t waste a beat and immediately pick up where he left. He spreads your legs wide, his eyes focusing on the way he sinks his cock into your sweet heat, the way you drink up every inch of him. The sight nearly makes him cum on the spot and he has to concentrate real hard not to blow his load inside already. He’s not done with you yet!

Having gone so long without being inside of you, he’s not ready for this to be over!

“Jimin- ah ah ahhhhh- hnnng!” Your back arches off the bed as the crown of his cock rubs against your sweet spot. Jimin responds with his hand on your throat, putting just the right amount of pressure. You can feel your eyes tearing up at the intense amount of pleasure running through your body, he’s everywhere! You can feel him everywhere! And you don’t know how much more you’ll be able to take, feeling spend and used after 2 orgasms already.

“Baby please,” you beg him teary eyed. “Need you to cum!”

Jimin shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes as determination takes over his features. “Gonna make you cum again!” he rasps, throwing his other hand into the mix as well – using his thumb to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his touch and the fire in your stomach intensifies to the point of pain. “I-I can’t…” you sob, and you desperately try to find something to grab onto, eventually settling on Jimin’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. You’re sure that will leave a mark in the morning.

“Yes you can!” Jimin growls, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he begins pounding into your so ruthlessly and desperately. He fucks you so hard and fast, that you’re almost positive that the bed will break.

He squeezes your throat a little harder, making the tears stream down your cheeks – wetting the pillow below you.

“Fucking cum! Cum around my cock baby!” he breathes, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

The slight change in position, has his cock reaching so deep inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fingers clawing into Jimin’s back – trying to hold on for dear life as he pounds you to your third orgasm for the night.

“Jimi- fuck…ahhhhhh!” you cry hoarsely, as you cum so hard that spots start dancing in front of your eyes and your breath catches in your throat when Jimin tighten his hold on your throat the slights bit – adding fuel to your already too intense pleasure.

“That’s it,” he grunts, continuing his abuse and fucking you through your orgasm, now chasing his own as well.

“Oh my god, please!”

You’re so desperate to feel him fall apart, to feel him lose control as much as you are. Wrapping yourself around him, you pull him as close as possible, your hands grasping his ass, pushing and pulling him towards you and your hips matching him thrust for thrust.

“Yesssss! Fuck ____, just like that. Just like that,” he chants, and you cry out in relief when you feel his muscles tensing up under your fingers and his cock twitching inside of you as he cums in hot spurts.

He continues to swirl his hips slowly as you both come down from your high. He finds your lips, placing small, sweet pecks of love over and over again as you both try to find your breath.

“That was…” you mumble against his lips.

He cracks a smile, “It was.”

Eventually Jimin stops moving completely, just lying on top of you with his arms caging you in and his hands running lovingly through your sweat soaked hair. You really need a shower before you go to bed. But you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Just kissing and touching each other. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to move once you have to get out of bed, your legs feeling completely numb. But at this rate, you’re not even sure you want to get out of bed at all – the way Jimin feels on top of you, his weight pressing you down, the way his cock feels inside of you and his warm cum still filling your-

“Did you come inside of me?” you ask him abruptly, your eyes going as big as saucers.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected, confused for a second. “Did I? I guess I did.”

“Jimin!” You begin to panic, your voice going up an octave. “Fuck! I’m not on the pill!”

Jimin’s entire body stiffens upon hearing your words. “What?!” He still asks, not sure he heard you right.

“I’m not on the pill right now!”

“What? Why? You’ve always been on the pill!” He says, sitting up and pulling out of you. You wince at the slight sting he leaves behind from pounding you so thorough and good.

“Yes, but remember last month when I had my doctor’s appointment because I was having really bad cramps? She told me to stop taking them for a while to see how my body would respond! I clearly remember telling you this and that you needed to wear condoms!”

“WHAT?!” he practically screeches in disbelief, watching as his cum slowly leaks out of your abused entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that’s not fucking good!”

[safetycar-restart]

Okay now you reminded me of D/S AU, I am going to voice a thought I had since a while. We can incorporate past experiences AU as well. I think I introduced a similar theme for Pierre only. This one is similar but different font. Tw: slight angst

You are hired by Alpha Tauri after they had an incident with their previous dom. You don’t have the details of the incident but you know it is going to be a little challenging.

During the first session, Pierre is like a brick wall towards you and does not let you communicate him in any way. You see him flinch when you move and it really breaks your heart. Moreover, he doesn’t let you talk to or touch Yuki at all. Yuki is mostly hiding behind him and whenever he gets curious and peeks his head from his back, Pierre shoves him back to his place.

You slowly understand that the previous dom was the reason why Pierre is so protective of himself and especially of Yuki. After a champagne soaked weekend, Pierre opens up to you while Yuki is napping on his lap due to a little too much alcohol. It turns out that the previous dom had taken advantage of their vulnerable position and forced them to do things they didn’t feel comfortable with. With this constant state of subdrop, Pierre developped a protective role over Yuki since Yuki was a more open target for their dom since he was younger and much less experienced. It turns out that Yuki didn’t know that what the previous dom did to them was wrong and he used to do whatever they ordered him to do even if it made him feel unsafe while Pierre knew enough to see that what was happening was wrong. You discover they don’t have a clue about aftercare and proper ways for a sub to get in the subspace since the previous dom used to use sudden and unmeasured pain to put them under.

It takes you while to get Pierre to trust you. Not that long for Yuki, though, since he was innocent and naive enough to take a candy from a stranger. You secretly find Pierre’s protectiveness over Yuki adoreable and think that they are the perfect sub match.

You start with non-sexual scenes to put their psyche at ease. You make them kneel for you (you put cushions under their knees, they need to be handled delicately after all). You hand feed them. You pick their clothes for them (and get them into matching outfits) and dress them up. Pierre is still tentative and insists on holding Yuki’s hand during all scenes at first (then it just becomes their thing, if the scene allows it).

When they trust you a bit more, you get to bit more comfortable wirh them. One time, Pierre even lets you clean them up in shower where you wash his hair and he washes Yuki’s hair. He is eternally shocked that a dom is making effort to gain their trust and make so many affectionate gestures to make them feel appreciated. At the end of the shower, he awkwardly takes your hand and places a shy kiss on it saying “thank you, ma’am”. From there, you just know that better days are yet to come for you three.

I DON’T KNOW SHELS, I AM ALL FEELS RIGHT NOW!!!!!

~🐍

I... holy fuck. I’m in love with this. So I read this ask last night I have been thinking about it literally the ENTIRE day.

So, I’m gonna make this into another au. So, we’re gonna have the past experiences AU, where drivers had bad past experiences with doms then we have the D/S AU where teams hire a pro Dom for their drives AND now we also have the past D/S AU, where you’ve been hired as a pro dom for teams BUT the drivers have had bad experiences with doms in the past. Ok? Cool? Cool.

Cause I just.... I love this and I wanna talk about this with more pairings and expand on this idea with Yuki/pierre too so now it’s a whole AU :))

Right firstly, you’re so right that Pierre is SO protective of Yuki. Pierre does everything he can to draw attention to himself so that Yuki can get off lightly.

And poor Yuki and Pierre just go through the entire season in subdrop. Their subspace only comes from sudden and extreme pain play and then they’re left with no aftercare.

So needless to say, when you join, Yuki and Pierre are both not optimistic. They don’t believe you for a second when you say you won’t punish them.

Well, Yuki has a little hope. But Pierre thinks it’s just you trying to get them to lower their defences and then you’ll strike where it hurts most.

Your heart just breaks when you meet them for the first time and they’re kneeling next to each other, trembling with Yuki thing to hide behind Pierre. And maybe you didn’t even want to scene with them that time?

Like, you expected to just have coffee with them and talk about what they wanted and how you can help them. But the rules they had to follow before was that every single interaction had to be them kneeling naked.

It just breaks your heart. Cause they deserve so much better than what they’ve been through.

And poor Pierre trying to act strong. You try to talk nicely to him, calling him a good boy and praising him to no end but he refuses to even look you in the eye.

And the worst is, you can tell how badly they need to submit properly. How desperate they are to just be looked after, but they’re too scared and traumatized for you to be able to do that with them.

I think Pierre and Yuki would slowly start to trust you after they have a horrible weekend? Like, they both fully expect you to punish them. They’re convinced that there’s no way your nice guys routine can continue now because they’ve made stupid mistakes and ended up with no points and they have to punished.

But instead, you sit down with them? Like, they’re kneeling on the floor and you just grab three pillows and sit on the floor with them. You sit cross legged on the floor, snd fine them each a pillow, telling them they can sit however they’d like but if they kneel, then they have to use the pillows.

And so they kneel on the pillows and you tell them to hold hands. So they’re holding hands and trembling a little and then you just start telling them how they tried their best and how your job is to look after them, not the team. You couldn’t care less about what the team thinks should happen to them.

Yuki begins to look hopeful then.

And I think Yuki would be the first one to relax a little. He moves from kneeling to sitting cross legged, holding the pillow. Pierre freaks of course, convinced that Yuki is going to get punished. But you don’t even react to Yuki’s change of position, so Pierre does the same.

And yeah absolutely it takes a very good weekend for Pierre to tell you what happened. You just listen, telling him that they both deserve so much better than that and that you want to show them how good it can be.

The first proper submission you do with them is hand feeding. It’s so soft and sweet and it’s perfect because Yuki loves food and Pierre loves when Yuki is happy.

You choose a meal their trainers would not approve of, but they never have to know.

They wouldn’t reach subspace, but they do kinda just relax so much? Like they’ve never felt that at ease in scenes before. And once or twice, Pierre even dares to chase your hand when you pull away so that he can suck on your fingers a little.

You don’t even go near sexual stuff for such a long time, but even without that, your bond when them manages to grow and grow.

Pierre is still VERY protective of Yuki for a long time. And you always respect that. You respect that Pierre needs you to do the thing you want to try with him first, not Yuki. You respect that they need to cuddle with each other for aftercare. You respect that they need to do scenes together.

And the first time pierre calls you an honourific....

Of course they start out by calling you honourifics, but you tell them not to. You tell them to only use those titles with you when they trust you enough. You fully expect them to never use titles for you, and that’s perfectly fine.

But then one day, they’ve had an awful race snd you have them kneel for you for a while, playing with their hair snd letting them hold hands. And then you take them to the shower, telling to wash each other well and you intend to leave then, but Yuki holds your hand?

Like Yuki takes your hand and pulls you in because he’s not ready for you to leave yet. Neither of them have ever expressed anything like that before. They’ve never tried to show what they need.

So of course, you listen because you know you can’t deny Yuki now or else he’ll never ask for anything again.

And surprisingly, Pierre loves it. He’s got this sweet smile on his face the whole time, letting you wash him and then he fucking giggles when you say he can wash Yuki.

After that he calls you an honourific, and you understand him thanking you means so much more than just thanking you for showering with them.

Things get better from there.

(Pls send me more asks about this I am OBSESSED)

[kuroopaisen]

brat || gojou satoru

➵ gojou wants you to pay attention to him. and no, he doesn’t care about how annoying he’s being. 

wc: 2k

warnings: gn!reader, gojou is Annoying, mild spoilers i guess? 

a/n: hi welcome to my gojou brainrot i would like to escape and yet i cannot,,, will i deliver more mindless fanfic? who knows! 

You sigh, turning the page of your book with an exhausted kind of resignation. Had you even comprehended what’s in the last paragraph? Or had you just let your eyes gloss over it, admiring the shape of the letters without actually taking any of them in?

Reading a book isn’t so difficult under normal circumstances; sure, you’ve got your own concentration to wrestle with, but that’s an (occasionally) tameable beast.

The man sprawled on the couch next to you, however, is not.

“Are you done yet?” Gojou hums, sticking his legs straight up in the air.

“I’ll be done sooner if you shut up,” you mumble, starting from the top of the page for what feels like the thirty-second time in the past five minutes.

Gojou’s not handling the boredom well. He’s spent the past five minutes cycling between humming Danse Macabre in an octave too high to be comfortable while swinging his legs in circles and poking your cheek as he crouches next to you on his knees.

“You’re the one who said I could come over,” he chirps, completely unfazed by your words.

“I never said that,” you mumble.

It’s not a lie. Earlier today, Gojou’d asked if you were going out tonight. You’d said no. He’d decided to take that as permission to crash at your place.

Although the onus is at least a little on you; he has a habit of doing things like this. You’ve got to be one step ahead of him if you want to win against him on a petty debate like that.

A head of white hair wriggles its way onto your lap.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m bored,” he hums.

That much is obvious. But you know it’s not that simple; he’s bored, yes, but more importantly, he wants your attention. Even your chest flutters at that.

“You’re a grown man,” you smile. “Entertain yourself.”

A well-worn coquettish smile plays on his lips. “I can’t tell if you’re being lewd or not.”

You slap his chest.

“Ow!” He gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe you’d be so cruel to me!”

“Then stop being annoying.”

“I’d like to think I’m ‘charmingly playful’.”

“Do you take constructive criticism?” You tilt your head at him, biting back a smile.

“I would,” he muses, “if I weren’t already perfect.”

“That ego of yours is going to get you into serious trouble one day,” you grin, flicking his forehead gently.

He lets you, grinning back. “Ah, but you see, my dear,” he hums, grabbing your hand before you draw it away and lacing your fingers with his. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but you don’t mind.

“I’m simply stating the truth.”

“Well, the truth hurts,” you mutter, “so it’s no surprise no-one wants to hear you gassing yourself up.”

Gojou laughs. His hair tickles your inner thighs and you’re almost convinced to give in. But it wouldn’t be good form to feed his ego after chiding him for it.

You’re well-aware his ego’s already gotten him in trouble – many times, in fact. But Gojou seems to have a way of wheedling his way out of anything.

And, of course, you know that his ego doesn’t come from nowhere.

Doesn’t stop it from being annoying, though. The fact it’s at least partially well-founded makes it worse.

You take a deep breath, turning your attention back to this blasted book. Gojou will just have to wait.

“Why are you even reading that brick?” He muses, tapping the bottom of the book’s spine with one long finger. “You look bored out of your mind. And, you’ve been on the same page for the past five minutes.”

“You know,” you tilt your head to the side, a sour look on your face. “‘Adult stuff.’ Upskilling and all that.”

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “Career work.”

“Mhm,” you sigh. “And some of us can’t just learn on the job.”

Although, you ponder, the thought blurred with gentle melancholy, some of us aren’t constantly risking our lives.

Gojou always tells you not to worry; he’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, after all. But even that’s not enough to lull you into an uneasy sleep, to bring you warmth when your bed is cold.

You’re never truly at ease until you feel him slip into your bed in the early hours of the morning, his arms slinking around your waist and pulling you towards him. It’s like clockwork how he buries his head in your shoulder as every muscle in his body relaxes. He always thinks you’re asleep – and honestly, it’s easier to let him keep believing that.

What you’ve got isn’t exactly a ‘relationship’. At least, not in the most traditional sense of the word. Gojou’s never pretended to offer you that. But it’s not so simple as a ‘friends-with-benefits’ arrangement.

Gojou Satoru doesn’t suit the domestic. But he relishes in it, the same way a child might enjoy playing at high tea with little plastic teacups and cupcakes made of playdough. Some might find this frustrating – the idea of existing in this grey, a dark, nebulous unknown stippled with moments of affection and vulnerability.

But there’s still comfort in it; a sense of understanding, a place to let loose and relax. Being part of this world is hard. It’s so cruel – sending children out to fight things they barely comprehend, letting them suffer and even die. And what do they have to show for it? A future of doing the same thing while also having to navigate just how shit the world of sorcerers truly is?

Why aren’t more of your colleagues angry about this? One counsellor isn’t enough to maintain the wellbeing of these children. Do the higher-ups even care? Well, you know the answer to that question – it’s enough to make you want to throttle each and every one of them—

“Hey.”

You clatter back to earth, met by a pair of electric blue eyes. It’s easy to forget just how striking they are; it’s like they can stare right into your very core, laying out secrets you never even knew you had.

“Hm?” You blink at him. You can’t risk him knowing you’re worried. He doesn’t stand for that sort of thing; he’ll just tease you for being concerned about him. Though, you’re well-aware that he enjoys being doted on.

“You’re spacing out,” he smiles. “Again.”

Sure, he sounds like he’s joking. But even he can’t disguise that little flash in his eyes, the slight tension in his face. It’s the same expression he has when he talks about that new student of his.

Gojou understands you better than you’d like. Every little tell, every tiny hint towards what you’re actually thinking. It’s near impossible to hide anything from him; it’s irritating, really.

But, at least he’s got the decency to leave the direction of the conversation in your hands.

You weigh it for a moment, deciding how exactly to respond. Should you play it off and throw his brattiness back in his face? Or should you pry open that conversation like the doors of an old temple?

Today’s not the day. Neither of you are ready for that.

You stick your tongue out at him. Perhaps it’s not how an adult should behave, but you don’t care. Neither does Gojou.

“I think,” he sighs, plucking the book out of your hands and tossing it across the room, “it’s time you took a break.”

You yelp a moment too late, watching your book slap against the wall and flop to the floor. It’s only a paperback – thank God – but you’re not ready to fix another dent in the wall caused by the force of mayhem known as Gojou Satoru.

“And I have been waiting long enough,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your neck and launching forward.

“Satoru—”

It’s too late. He’s got you pinned beneath him – and not in a sexy way. All six feet and three inches of him is laid flat on top of you, your face smothered by his chest.

You punch his side weakly.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he laughs.

“Fine,” you try to say. All you get is a mouthful of Gojou’s shirt. You slip your hands up said shirt and tickle his sides.

“Hey, hey, hey—” He splutters, grabbing at your wrists.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” You smirk, continuing your assault.

Gojou whines, propping himself up by his palms and arching his back like a cat in an attempt to shake you off.

“Get back here,” you grin, lifting your torso in response.

His arms are immediately wrapped around you, pinning your own arms to your sides. You yelp in surprise, finding yourself laid gently against the couch with your face pressed against his neck.

“Much better,” Gojou chuckles, still on top of you as he nestles his head into your shoulder.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but that’s rarely a priority when it comes to Gojou. You wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t just his way of goading you into relocating to your bed for ease of cuddling (although you have your doubts that it’s the only thing on his mind).

“You want attention that bad, huh?” You chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

“Mhm,” he smirks, bringing his head up to get a proper look at you. “I’m a busy man, you know. I don’t think you’re appreciating my free time enough.”

“And yet, you never seem to leave my damn house,” you muse. “I’m starting to think you don’t actually have a job.”

Gojou laughs, leaning down and kissing you properly.

“That’s not an answer,” you say against his lips.

He ignores you, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You sigh, conceding. His lips are so soft yet so persistent, somehow both desperate and playful. He’s aggravatingly good at this sort of thing – before Gojou, you didn’t really understand what it meant to be a ‘good kisser’. But of course, he manages to excel at this, too. And annoyingly enough, he’d been right to brag about it.  

He brings one hand up to cup your cheek and moves another down to your waist. It’s a surprisingly chaste move for him, but you don’t mind. You tangle your own hands in his hair, resisting the urge to tug it. If you do that, you’ll officially lose any chance of getting more reading done tonight. Although your ability to focus on anything other than him is waning quickly.

When Gojou pulls back, he’s got that look in his eyes. The one that always makes your cheeks flush, makes your heart feel a little lighter. The one that almost makes you say something stupid.

Thank God you always have your wits about you.

“You get five minutes,” you sigh. “And then you’ve got to let me finish the chapter I’m on, okay? Then I’m all yours.”

Gojou’s grin blossoms with delight.

He slots himself beneath your chin and rests his cheek against your chest. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You smile, propping your chin on the top of his head and wrapping your arms around him.

Despite all his big talk, his irksome demeanour, even his obnoxious height, Gojou Satoru loves to be held.

You always oblige. He never asks – that’s too close to admitting weakness.

But you understand. He needs this. Sometimes he just wants to be tended to.

Being let in like this is an honour. He’s letting you be part of his life, despite his grand plans. Plans that, when he’d told you them, shifted your whole understanding of him.

Gojou represents change.

You have to have faith in him. You have to believe he’ll make good on his promises and turn the sorcerer world on its head. It’s no easy burden; and despite what he claims, even he falters in the face of something so monumental.

But despite all that, he’s still him. He hasn’t let the weight of his goals crush him; at least, not entirely. He finds the little joys, indulges in mundane delights, sees the humour in things.

Gojou Satoru wants to change the world, but he still lets himself be a part of it.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to love him.

Even if he can’t offer the stability and promise of a stable relationship.

Even if he’s a little brat.

[honeycomb-cinammonroll]

INSIDE THE BROOM CLOSET - J.P

SUMMARY: (Y/N) and James Potter are running away from Filch and end up locked in the broom closet.

PAIRING: James Potter x Hufflepuff!reader.

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

WARNINGS: none? steamy making out?

✧✧✧

“This is all your fault.”

“Shut up and keep running, Potter.” It all started because of James Potter and his stupid ideas, he hadn’t stop talking about a prank he had been planning for weeks, and you being a Hufflepuff were vital for it to work.

The plan consisted on him sneaking up in the kitchens and changing all the sugar to salt, as well as the honey for booger flavored slime while you kept your eyes on the door. You found it gross, but being James’ long time friend made it impossible to tell him no. So, it was simple, James would change the ingredients, Peter and Sirius would distract the house Elves, Remus would be in charge of keeping an eye on the hall while you guarded the door and then, you would sneak them into your common room.

It was all going well, the elves were distracted with a rat and a dog running around the kitchen while they caused a mess, there were utensils flying everywhere but it seemed like the elves only cared for the animals destroying their kitchen. James was on the other side of the place and you couldn't help but glance his way.

There was flour in his hair, but the playful smirk didn't leave his face for a second. His glasses were almost falling off, the sleeves of his long shirt were rolled up, and his hands were at full display. Maybe if you hadn't been distracted by how strong and handsome he seemed, you would’ve heard Remus’ signal.

That's how you found yourself running away from Filch and his creepy cat, James held your hand tightly and you tried your hardest to ignore the rapid beat of your heart. Left, right, right, left… At some point you had lost the other three boys but in this kind of situation, it was every man for themselves.

“Come on, (Y/N) We'll lose him here.” You turned once more and faced a simple looking wooden door, without hesitating, the both of you hurried inside, but quickly realized your mistake once the door closed behind James. It was locked, Oh Helga.

“Please tell me you have your wand,” You whispered yell, hoping Filch couldn't find you but at the same time praying someone else opened the door from the outside. “I left it in the common room, Do you have yours?”

“I think I dropped it.” Now both of you were in full panic mode, there were a few brooms and cleaning products in the place that reduced your space, and truth be told you were never a fan of enclosed spaces. James noticed this the second he locked eyes with you and your frightened state so he stepped away, hoping to give you enough room.

At least the light is on. As if someone had heard you, both you and James could clearly listen to Filch talking to McGonagall, James carefully turned the light off, and as if on instinct, you snuggled closer to him, once again, almost hearing your heart beating faster than ever.

“Professor, they went that way.” You could see the shadow of their feet from the other side of the door, your thoughts were racing inside your hair, but then again you've always overthink everything. However, your mind became blank once you felt a pair of strong arms grabbing your waist tightly, your eyes looked down only to find James’ hands on your lower abdomen, he was drawing soothing circles on top of your school blouse.

“Is this alright?” He asked, whispering in your ear. That simple action sent shivers down your spine and you nodded eagerly, making James smile on the back of your neck. After what felt like forever, the shadows disappeared, however, James didn't turn the lights back on, instead he got as close to you as possible.

“You're so tense, Love.” The combination of his warmth along with the nickname made you turn your head back, you could feel his breath hitting the side of your neck, and for a second you wondered if it was all truly happening, but felt so real once he started leaving kisses along the brick of your jaw.

You just knew you were a goner. Once you couldn't control yourself any longer, you turned around, facing him. James’ facial features were like those of a greek god, a sharp jaw, a strong chin, and those eyes that always seemed filled with happiness now looked like hunger.

You had alway wondered how James Potter tasted, the answer was mint tea, and you loved it. James kissed you like his life depended on it, so rough yet gentle at the same time and it made you feel dizzy because How was he so fucking good at everything? You were so concentrated on his lips you barely had time to register how he had you pinned against the wall.

His hands held you from the waist. “Jump.” James said, and you didn't hesitate, his hand travelled to the brick of your back, while the other kept you both firmly in place, and suddenly, you didn't want to leave that dirty closet anymore.

As you both took a breath, he placed his forehead on yours, enjoying the closeness, his lips were swollen and his hair was a mess, you couldn't be better yourself, however you wouldn't have it any other way. He smiled sweetly at you, James was about to speak when you both heard an audible click.

Peter was standing at the entrance, you wand on his right hand. He had a goofy smirk plastered on his face. “You owe me two galleons, Padfoot!” He yelled, and you could clearly hear Sirius’ groans and complaints, however, the only thing on your mind was the minutes spent inside that broom closet and the blush that creeped on your cheeks and neck.

The boys were teasing James for his crooked tie and wrinkled shirt, He laughed at the comments, and interlocked his fingers with yours before turning on his heels and guiding you both through the halls of the castle.

“Where are we going?”

“On a proper date, and then we'll definitely do more of that, just maybe on a bed this time, Love.”

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 18

Masterpost

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory

CW: recovering pet whumpee, environmental whump, references to an amputated finger, paranoia/hallucinations

-

As he turned to lock the final door behind him, Rowe could see that he had been in a warehouse, evidently a rarely-used one. A single floodlight was on, illuminating nothing but a bare wall and the road leading up to it. Rowe had been correct- it was night. The open air was a thousand blessings as he breathed it in. His eyes felt clean, he could stand up properly, he wasn’t wearing that fucking collar anymore.

The happiness was short-lived, but he let himself have it. He was free. He just had to get home, now.

Rowe would have panicked, at that moment, but instead his heart toughened, because Kasia hadn’t been able to break him down. He was missing a finger, and the throbbing pain made sure he wouldn’t forget in a hurry, but he was still there, still himself. His nightmares would probably take a new form, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep alone again, but he was fine. He was a Pet. He was a person. Surviving was a skill of his.

He rested a hand on the wall, making sure he was hidden in shadow, and let himself take some of the weight off his scarred leg. Burnt, smashed, sewn up and burnt again. He would be limping, by the time he got home. But get home he would, and in some way, it was thanks to his leg. He had been sat on his bed, back when he couldn’t walk, looking for something to distract him from the feelings of anger and uselessness and what if he throws me out?

So he’d looked down and practised his reading. He remembered it perfectly. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

Rowe had read the address, and perhaps even then he’d known he might one day need it. It didn’t solve the problem of knowing whereHartland Road was, or whether he’d make it there without being stolen or beaten up or killed, but he had to try.

Kidnapped, he thought. You’d only say stolen for a piece of property.

The warehouse was evidently on the outskirts of town. Was it the right town? Rowe thought so, as he studied the lights shining down the road. Several of the shapes were familiar to him. The colourful string bulbs that were hung up along the shopping streets, the glow from the theatre on the hill, the dark spot where the graveyard sat. From his bedroom window he had to crane to get a good look, but he could see it well from the office. He ached to be back there. In the warmth and familiarity of it. Back with- Master? The word sounded strange now. Especially since- since Rowe felt like he understood him now. Understood his intentions.

He started to walk. Kasia’s jacket rested on his shoulders, and he couldn’t bear to put his arms in. The idea alone made him feel trapped. The thing smelt distinctly of the bastard, but Rowe knew it was preferable to the cold of a dead night. He found a main road soon enough, built up above the rest of the grassy flatland, so he gingerly climbed down the hill and walked alongside. He would be hidden from passing cars well enough, but his bare feet soon began to take the brunt of the choice of rough land over tarmac. Stones, sticks, was that roadkill, oh, god, all were littered through his journey which was only sparsely lit by the occasional road light. After a particularly sharp stone, or possibly even a discarded glass bottle, Rowe knew his foot was bleeding. He ground his teeth together. It wasn’t real if he couldn’t see it. And right now, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of him.

He kept his eyes on the lights from the town before him, slowly drawing closer.

He thought he heard footsteps behind him, running closer with horrifying speed. As they drew near he could hear Kasia screaming at him.

You think you can fucking get away from me? You think you locked that collar? You really think I won’t come back?

He kept his eyes fixed on the town. “It-it-it’s n-not real,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. He was trembling with fear. “It’s not real, I locked him up, I st-stopped him, it’s not real, it’s not.”

The paranoia wouldn’t leave him, though. Every passing car, though they were few and far between, made him jump and crouch down, hands clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t shake the fear that it was Kasia after him, out searching for the rotten escaped Pet. His leg burst with pain every time, making him whimper and cry when he tried to stand back up.

The sounds of footsteps gradually stopped, and Kasia’s voice faded, but Rowe could still feel his hands clawing at him. His back tingled with the overwhelming sensation that someone was behind him, creeping up and reaching out to grab-

Against his better judgement, he turned back. Darkness there, and nothing more. “Fuck, f-fuck, keep it together,” he muttered.

Just up ahead, he could see streetlamps. Proper ones, glowing a gentle orange. He went as far as he could along the grass, then climbed up, wetting his hands in the dew. He checked for cars, and seeing none, scrambled fully onto the road.

He realised he couldn’t run anymore- his leg would give out, or he wouldn’t be able to contain a howl of pain- so he limped as quickly as he could towards the next patch of shadow, over and over.

Eventually he came upon a sign: Welcome to….

It was half shadowed, but it was a map. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes, eyes scanning the jumble of letters and lines and symbols. Eventually he spotted it. Hartland Road. He traced the direction in his head, making sure it was committed to memory, although he knew he wouldn’t forget it even if someone tried to beat it out of him. And then, he started walking.

He couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, but he would have guessed around three or four in the morning. The pub, as he passed it, was quiet, although he still kept his distance, hugging the shadows.

He soon reached the base of the hill he knew he’d have to climb. As he started to ascend, he saw the Pet hospital in the distance. Oh god, would he have to go back there to get his finger treated? He pushed the question to the back of his mind. If he did, there wasn’t anything he could do.

A few cars drove by, as he walked. He wanted to duck into one of the smaller streets that branched off, but he had only memorised one route home, and he didn’t trust himself to improvise in the dark. So instead he squared his shoulders, stopped hunching, tried his best to look like a person walking home in his heavy jacket, not afraid, not prey. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was easier than he’d expected. And it worked- no cars stopped, no one seemed to give him a second glance.

He finally reached the street, the name lit up. Hartland Road. The sign was scuffed, like kids had popped the cap off their beers along its edge. It was fixed to the wall of a garden, weeds poking out through the bricks, a flyer from the council tied at eye-level to the neck of the streetlamp. Rowe took everything in as he walked. The bicycle clipped to a fence, the parked cars, the black bins left out for collection. Before, he never would have taken notice. None of it had mattered. But now, Rowe felt as if he had a new connection to the world around him. He could interact with it. He wasn’t leashed or under the watchful eye of an owner, he wasn’t crawling or blindfolded in the boot of a car. He was in pain, yes, but he was always in pain, so constantly that it hardly registered anymore. He was free.

Rowe didn’t recognise the house itself. The only times he’d ever left it, he’d been unconscious, or practically so.

But when he turned around, he saw the same view he’d had from his bedroom window every morning and night. He was home.

He remembered Kasia’s key, but it no longer fit into the front door. The lock must have been changed. Rowe hated that the alternative was to make a loud noise, at this hour, but perhaps that was the smarter way than simply slipping inside like- like Kasia. So he hesitantly pressed down on the doorbell, hitting his fist against the wood as well. He waited. He thought about how he’d never rung a doorbell before in his life.

Silence. Rowe wasn’t exactly surprised, but his heart still tightened. Suddenly the fresh air didn’t feel freeing, it felt exposed. He rang again, knocking harder, not giving up. Surely he would know it was urgent? Surely he would come down, and Rowe would get to see his face again?

Faintly, he heard the creaking of the stairs. “I-I-It’s me!” he said, hushed. “It’s me, I…”

His words died as the door slowly opened. Half a face, an eye framed by blond curls peered out, full of apprehension. In a heartbeat it landed on Rowe and widened, and the door flew open.

“Tomas,” Rowe said, loving how it felt to say his name, loving him, loving everything. “I’m back, I, I’m back, I’m back.”

Tomas raised a hand over his mouth, and for once he was the one shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god.”

And then he was reaching both arms out for Rowe with a sob. Rowe threw the horrible jacket to the ground and fell into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding on tight. He couldn’t have known whose knees failed first, but suddenly they had collapsed on the floor, clinging onto each other, not leaving a shred of space between as they both cried. Soaked in the orange light that pooled through the still-open front door.

[bestiesenpai]

Inamorata - Sukuna

You have no idea how much I like this idea lol ya know the meme ‘i got a boyfriend, yeah he kills people he’s crazy’ this is exactly what went through my head with this. Femme reader, I went for a...Sukuna is his own person and not attached to Itadori kind of thing? Like just a stand-alone demon. I had probably way too much fun writing this and would be down to write more for this concept

Content warnings: killing/murder/homicide choose your preferred noun, a little yandere?, size difference and Sukuna is in his four armed form, uhmm there’s a knife(main use to cut open readers palm in the beginning) and also licking blood from said wound, violence/gore at the end

Apparently there was a demon on the loose. From what you’d read on online forums and heard through the whispers of older people on the train, there was a foreboding presence terrorizing the city, preying on the weak and helpless and hoping to take over the world.

There were blurry photos and horrible sketches of what the creature supposedly looked like and the form it took, but none of them seemed to match up. The tattoos on the face and body were always off, the amount of muscle and the stature of the creature were all different depending on who you went to.

Which is why you decided, against all better judgement, to go looking for him. All the stories you’d heard about the demon, the kind of creature it was centuries ago in its prime, had intrigued you. With the mystique and terror surrounding this demon, you’d be a fool not to try and get a peek for yourself.

At first you’d tried a summoning circle, clearing a large space in your bedroom and drawing intricate patterns on the floor in hopes of his arrival. That method quickly turned futile as no demon ever came - but now you probably had a few ghosts watching you sleep at night.

The second method was to try and make a pact with the devil himself, slicing open your palm and dripping blood onto the pages of old scriptures. Attempting to sell your soul had worked even less than the first method and all you had to show for it was a bandage around your hand for two weeks.

“I’ll definitely see him now.” You mumbled to yourself, walking straight to where the demon was seen most: the red light district. Walking past bright neon signs and nearly naked women in shop windows, you took a peek into every alleyway you came across.

“Hey pretty lady, what’re you looking for?” A rough, scratchy voice sounded behind you as you walked past the umpteenth alleyway of the night.

“What do you think?” Not looking over your shoulder, you kept walking. The voice, while sounding absolutely disgusting, didn’t belong to a demon and therefore not worth your time.

“I think you’re looking for trouble.” Curling his fingers around your arm, the man you were trying to ignore snatched you back, making you stumble and fall into his chest. The nasty scent of body odor and cigarettes was wafting off the man, making you worry that his stench would cling to you for days.

“Not the kind you’re talking about.” Pushing away from him, you furiously wiped off your clothes. Looking this man in the face irritated you, he was wasting his time and you knew exactly what his intentions were.

“Don’t play so hard to get!” Forcing a less than charming smile on his face, the man made the move to grab you again.

“Don’t touch me!” Slapping his hands away, you took generous steps back from him. “You’re getting in the way of my search.”

“Search?” Quirking a brow at you, the man took a moment to think before his brows rose in surprise. “You’re looking for Sukuna, aren’t you?”

“That’s his name?” You’d never heard his name before, only seeing some people refer to him as a four armed creature from hell.

“Yup, and I’ve seen him a couple times.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the man smirked triumphantly. “You could say he and I have a kind of friendly relationship.”

“Do you now?” Your eyes trailed up from the man to the dark alleyway behind him where two glowing red eyes emerged.

“Oh yeah, Sukuna’s a great guy! Even offered to give me a position in his little army.” The more he spoke the brighter the eyes got and the fuzzy outline of a gigantic body was starting to take shape.

“His little army?” Slowly taking steps back as the figure came forward, you barely had time to react before the man was snatched up by two giant hands and yanked backwards. Lifting him into the air, it wasn’t long before a mouth with gleaming sharp teeth opened up and swallowed him whole.

As the eyes drew their attention back to you, a nervous laugh left your chest that you couldn’t force to stop. Every step you took back was now accompanied by a step forward from the creature until it fully left the alleyway and you saw exactly what you were dealing with.

Right in front of you, in full form and glory, was the demon you’d been searching for. The scrawling black tattoos along his entire body, the four arms, pink hair, second set of eyes and his impossibly muscular physique - all of it was exactly like you’d been hoping for.

“Hello, pretty little thing.” His voice boomed despite being relatively quiet, a slight echo to the deep timbre. It was almost melodic in a way, somehow soothing your racing heart just slightly.

“S-sukuna?” You squeaked out, back meeting the brick wall of a building.

“That would be me.” Chuckling as he stopped a few feet from you, Sukuna crossed his secondary arms and looked down upon you. The sheer height and width of his body easily dwarfed yours, your head only barely reaching his ribcage.

Your eyes couldn’t stay in one place as you looked at Sukuna. There was too much to take in and you could feel yourself quickly becoming overwhelmed trying to commit every detail to memory.

“You’re…” Licking your lips nervously, you could only meet his eyes for a moment before settling on the mark on his forehead. “You’re wearing womens clothes.” Tied around his waist and hanging off his legs was indeed a womens kimono, a surprising pristine white shade.

“That’s what you decide to say at our first meeting?” An echoing laugh bellowed from him and Sukuna shook his head, running one hand through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry it’s just...they never mentioned it online.” It felt a little silly to be explaining yourself to him when at any moment Sukuna could eat you like he did that man and you would have no way of stopping him.

“Little thing, I have a question for you.” Fixing you with a suddenly sharp stare, Sukuna lowered his brow and bent down, placing two arms above your head and two at your side, trapping you in against the wall with no possible outs.

“Yes?” Pinching your eyes closed, you held your breath as you waited for the inevitable bite of his teeth around.

“Are you scared?” Sukuna whispered, his breath fanning out over the top of your head.

“Yes.” It would be a lie to say no and you had nothing to lose by telling the truth. Sukuna’s eyes bore into you, the weight of his stare physically making your back bow.

“What did you think of me eating that man just now? Was that terrifying for you?”

“No.” Sukuna took a pause at your answer and although you couldn’t see it, his brow furrowed for a fraction of a second.

“What did you feel then? Surely you must have thought it was horrible.”

“N-not really.” Slowly cracking one eye open, you looked up at Sukuna, almost breaking your neck from having to stare directly above you. “I was actually quite happy you did that. He was getting on my nerves.”

The barking laugh that left Sukuna’s mouth made you flinch and throw your hands in the air. It was so loud it seemed to vibrate your entire body and a few windows on the building behind you shook from the force.

“You’re telling me you liked me killing that guy?” Grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, Sukuna held you up in the air, eye level to him. You nodded, pitifully kicking your legs out to try and get back to solid ground. “Aren’t you a messed up little thing?” Still laughing, Sukuna took a proper once over of your body. “Pretty, but messed up.”

“P-please let me go!” You whimpered, hands desperately clutching Sukuna’s to try and not fall out of your clothes and onto the ground.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like how I hold you?” Shaking you for good effect, Sukuna smirked wildly at your scared little squeaks. “Tell me your name.”

“It’s (Y/N)!” Shouting into the air, you felt relief flood into you as Sukuna finally lowered you back to the ground and his hands released you.

“(Y/N)?” Sounding it out on his tongue, Sukuna shrugged to himself. “I like ‘little thing’ better.”

“I’m only little compared to you.” Fixing your clothes, you tried to regain your breath and stop your body from shaking so violently.

“So, what’s a creature like you doing out so late at night here? It’s not safe for a human like you to roam around these parts.”

“I was looking for you.”

“Me? You were looking for me?” Sukuna snorted, waving his hand dismissively at you. “A human like you looking for me? I’ve really seen it all.”

“It’s true!” Pulling out your phone, you quickly showed him all the data you’d compiled on him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Sukuna! I did a summoning circle, I’ve looked in hundreds of online forums - I even tried to make a deal with the devil!” Showing him the mark that was still healing on your palm, the fear that was in your body was slowly trickling out and being replaced with- hope? Excitement? It was hard to say, but as Sukuna grasped your hand between two fingers and looked at your palm, it would be wrong to say it was a negative emotion you felt.

“You really did all that for me?” His voice was much softer now but it still sounded like he was mocking you. Smoothing the pad of one finger across your palm, he felt the ridges of your palm and the wound.

“I did. I find you really fascinating and I- I just wanted to learn more about you.” You faltered when he looked at you, a fierce heat overtaking your cheeks at admitting out loud that you’d been looking for a demon because you found him interesting.

“Are you perhaps interested in me?” A smirk tugged one side of Sukuna’s lip up and he chuckled when your expression only grew more flustered. “Oh little thing, you’re more messed up than I thought.”

“Will you tell me more about yourself? Please?” The words tumbled out of your mouth desperately as you let Sukuna stretch out your arm and grasp your hand more firmly. He didn’t answer you or even acknowledge that you’d spoken, instead grazing the tip of one long sharp nail along the line of the cut.

“I find myself liking you more and more, why is that?” Sukuna’s tone sounded like he was addressing himself as he spoke aloud, turning your hand every which way as he kept scraping his nail against your palm. “Were you my lover in the past, back when I reigned as the ruler of this whole land?”

Racking your brain to try and remember any information on Sukuna potentially having a lover, you were ripped back to reality when Sukuna dug his nail into your skin, reopening the cut and making blood flow freely.

“Ow!” You couldn’t yank your arm out of his grasp and you watched in mild horror as Sukuna lowered himself to your hand, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth and drag across your skin. His tongue quickly became coated in dark red blood, his saliva starting to mingle with your blood.

“You taste so familiar, you must have been mine.” Lapping up your blood now, Sukuna didn’t stop until he could tell you were starting to get weak from blood loss. The lower half of his face was now covered in red, smeared across his skin like paint.

“Sukuna, that’s gross.” The mumble slipped from your delirious mind, making him laugh as he waved a hand over the cut and made it go away. Slipping your hand from his grasp it was like there had never been a mark there in the first place.

“A human telling me what’s gross?” Licking his face clean, Sukuna grinned down at you. The longer he looked at you the longer memories of a past you returned to his mind. The irresistible draw he felt to come to you tonight had been the same one that called to him centuries ago, making you the center of his otherwise cruel and empty world.

Placing two hands on the wall behind you, Sukuna leaned over you once more, this time grasping your chin and turning your face up to him. The saliva that had mixed with your blood had also given you new memories of the past as well, and as you looked at Sukuna you remembered all the things the two of you had done together.

“So, my pet, what shall we do first?”

Sukuna ended up carrying you home, having you tucked inside his kimono as he leaped on rooftops across the city. Opening your bedroom window, Sukuna shoved his body through, having to make himself slightly smaller to fit inside the house.

“Are you uh, hungry?” Standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom as Sukuna sat on your bed, you weren’t quite sure what to do now.

“I could eat.” Laying fully back on your bed, it creaked and groaned as Sukuna rested his weight on it. The thought of offering to take him to the kitchen came and went quickly in your head; just getting him into your room was a hard enough task.

Fixing him and yourself a quick meal, as soon as you were done eating Sukuna picked you up and rested you on his abdomen. Even after shrinking himself down your legs were still stretched as wide as possible in hopes of wrapping around his waist.

“As the memories of you return, I realize how much I’ve missed you, my pretty little thing.” Petting down your back, Sukuna looked at you fondly. Propped up on two of his arms, he could stare directly at your tiny body sitting atop him.

“What kind of memories do you have?” So far, the only thing you could seem to recall were memories of a more sexual nature. One’s of you and Sukuna wrapped up in each other's arms, both of his cocks stuffed inside you as you begged to cum.

“I remember giving you the world, whatever you wanted was yours for the taking.” The look in Sukunas eyes was surprisingly soft and you could feel the love coming out from him.

“Whatever I wanted?” Repeating the words, your mouth hung open slightly at all the possible things you could get.

“The world may exist to serve me, but I exist to serve you.” Fully sitting up, Sukuna held you against him as he leaned down, lips grazing your forehead. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I can get you anything in the world, I can do anything in the world.”

“Kill for me.” The whisper that left your lips was almost too quiet for even yourself to hear. But Sukuna nodded, having heard you perfectly. Your words made his body thrum with excitement and his nerves were on edge.

“Kill for you?” He repeated, kissing you on the forehead. The fingers that held you closely dug into your sides and if Sukuna wasn’t careful he could crush you completely.

“You love me, don’t you?” There was just the slightest hint of worry in your voice. What if you were overestimating your power over Sukuna? He could say no or even kill you himself.

“You have no idea what the things my love for you will do.”

Although it pained him to do so, Sukuna left you once the sun began to rise. He had other things to attend to, temples that worshipped him as a god to visit. Promising to see you once dusk began to settle over the sky, Sukuna leapt from your window and into the horizon.

“You came back.” Even though he swore up and down he’d come back, it still shocked you to see him back on your bed once it hit a certain time of night.

“Of course I did.” Sukuna almost seemed hurt you would question him. Holding out a hand, as soon as you grasped one of his fingers he pulled you to him and nestled your body into his side. “Did you do what I asked?”

“The list is in my pocket.” Before leaving, Sukuna had told you to make a list of all the people you wanted him to kill for you. The list had started out short, just a few people that had hurt you that you couldn’t let go of, and then it grew to others, politicians and corrupt people in the media.

“Quite impressive, little thing.” Reading over the list, Sukuna stood up. “Shall we go then?”

“Go whe-” As Sukuna threw open your bedroom window you were met with a strong gust of wind. “Sukuna, where are we going?” You asked him over the wind in your ears. Putting his upper arms into the sleeves of his kimono, he made sure you were nestled safely inside.

“We’re going to take care of the first person on your list.” Wrapping an arm around you, Sukuna jumped out of the window. Though this wasn’t your first time in this position, you hadn’t been fully cognizant when Sukuna took you home last night. Now, with a head clear and no lack of blood to distract you, you could see the lights of the city clearly as they whipped past you.

“It’s beautiful.” Carefully leaning forward, you gazed at the downtown area with all the flashing lights and swerving cars.

“If you say so.” Patting your hip, Sukuna pulled you back, resting your weight fully on his arm and clothes. He wouldn’t admit it, and despite knowing he would catch you in a millisecond, Sukuna didn’t want you to fall out and fall to the ground.

Coming upon the first persons house, he settled you on the ground outside. You were in a tightly knit residential area standing directly under a streetlight, with rows of houses that all looked similar. In a flash, Sukuna had broken into the house and grabbed the person you were after.

“This them?” With a tight grip on their ankle, Sukuna shook them side to side.

“Mhmm.” You didn’t need to look to know he’d gotten the right person, just the feeling you had around them was enough to confirm it.

“W-what’s going on here?!” They screamed, blood pooling in their head the longer they hung upside down.

“Don’t speak.” Sukuna barked, shaking them once again. “You don’t speak to her, or at all.” The person screamed again, a high pitched sound that quickly got shut off as Sukuna swung their body and smacked them against the ground. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

For a moment you thought they’d died from how hard Sukuna hit them against the ground, but a small whimper and breathless gasps sounded from where their face was crushed against the pavement.

“Do you know why I’m here?” You whispered, standing over their motionless body. Rolling over onto their back, they shook their head and started to stammer. “If you can’t answer my question I don’t want you to make a sound.” Pressing your foot onto their throat, you flinched when their hands came up to try and claw you away.

“Don’t touch her.” Instantly pinning their arms down, Sukuna glowered. “How would you like me to do it?”

“Let me think.” Staring down into their glassy eyes, a million options went through your mind. Sukuna’s power was limitless, there was nothing he couldn’t do. If you asked him to throw their body into outer space, he would do it in a heartbeat. “Rip them limb from limb. You can eat them if you’d like.”

“As you wish.” A sick grin curled Sukuna’s lip and he drug their body across the ground until they were directly underneath him.

“(Y/N) wait! W-wait please!” Their shrill cries fell on deaf ears, and the sound of the first limb being torn off their body was something you could get used to. “Oh- oh my god, my leg!”

“God I wish you’d shut up.” You kept your eyes on the person's face, refusing to look at where blood squirted generously from their now missing extremity.

“Allow me.” With the swipe of one claw Sukuna gouged out their throat. Hot, bright red blood spilled out onto the pavement, pooling and almost making it to where you stood. Throwing one leg into his mouth, Sukuna used a non-bloody hand to lift you up and place you onto a brick wall.

“Thank you.” Giving him a gentle smile, you now had a front row seat to Sukuna ripping apart this person's body and slowly devouring them. There was a mess of blood coating Sukuna’s skin, far more blood than when he had drunk yours.

As you watched Sukuna eat this person, a sense of satisfaction washed over you. It felt good to get justice in your own way for how this person wronged you. After being told to let it go, try and move and let time heal the wound, you could finally get closure the way you wanted.

“All done?” You asked once the last piece of their body was consumed. Standing up to his full height, Sukuna still looked down at you. The blood on his skin began to sizzle off, evaporating into the air and leaving the pungent smile of iron behind.

“Have I made you happy?” He responded, cupping your face and lightly squishing your cheeks. Smiling proudly, a warm flush washed over your face the longer you and Sukuna looked at each other.

“Yes, very.” Nuzzling into his palm and kissing it, you let out a breathless laugh as Sukuna did the same.

“I’m happy to please you.” Kissing you on the top of the head, Sukuna pulled out the list and crossed out the first name. “Shall we go to the others now?”

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

a confession (day 3)

(chapter 5 - previous chapter - tesfest2022 - read on AO3)

-

... Iliah would give much thought to that night, at various stages of her life. She would realise, in retrospect, that it was the last time she would ever go to Karnalta for comfort. Even then she could sense a growing distance-- it was like they didn’t know how to be around each other as separate people, and for each layer of distinct identity they developed, another brick was laid in the wall rising between them.

If Iliah noticed a change coming over Karnalta, she didn’t give it much thought. After the distressing incident in the garden with Ernil, she tried not to give much thought to anything at all. Distraction became the rule of her days. She flung herself into her sword-lessons, redoubled the time she spent volunteering at the Temple, spent as much time as she could studying, and found every pretense she could to be out of the house. 

Father despised her newfound independence; in jealous retaliation, he grasped for excuses to trap her at home, to no avail but bitter disagreement. Karnalta was usually there, watching their arguments from the shadows, and if she had any thoughts on Iliah’s absences, she kept them to herself. 

In truth, Father’s efforts came too late. No longer could his overbearing demands hold any sway over her. The Temple was already Iliah’s home. 

If her childhood visits to the Temple had been a tourist’s glance of paradise, the sword-fighting lessons Almalexia had recommended became her ticket of entrance. Seron, the Hand of Almalexia who ran their sword-lessons, had taken Iliah under his wing, introducing her to a world of Ordinators and Priests and Gardeners and Teachers and Healers that was more welcoming than any she’d ever known. She was anonymous among the Temple Orphans that dwelled there permanently, and her habit of silence became a great boon, granting her the trust of the staff, and then their consent to follow them around. She came to love trailing after the Ordinators like a shadow, watching with captivation as they enacted the will of the Temple. 

How could she have remained loyal to that oppressive house of her childhood, what was there to draw her back in her grim and ever-displeased family? Others might have mistaken her attraction to religion as a calling; for her it felt as natural as wanting sunlight on skin, or a drink in a desert. Religious conviction never came into it. She sought out the Tribunal like a child seeking a mother’s hug.

And all the while Karnalta remained a dark unhappy shadow on the periphery of her life, static and sinister. But Iliah herself grew, and changed, and learned, and when she was fifteen-and-a-half she sought out her sister and asked that they meet in their garden hiding-spot. 

*

Change had come for Iliah alone, it sometimes seemed; the garden was still fragrant with summer Moril blooms, and Karnalta still sat beneath a magelight she’d cast, knitting. This time she was working on some sort of lacy scarf, the fine blue string like cobwebs around her needles. Iliah herself sat upright and rigid, proper as an Ordinator atop the bonemold garden-stool. 

And it was Iliah who broke the silence. “Kar, I need to tell you something.” 

“You’re a Telmoran,” Karnalta answered, without looking up from her knitting. 

“Wh--” Iliah felt her face grow hot. “How did--” 

“Name one attractive man.”

Iliah stammered, but her tongue betrayed her, and she couldn’t form a sentence. Focused on her knitting, Karnalta barked out a mean-spirited laugh. 

An uneasy silence fell. 

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” Karnalta asked presently.

“It’s not what I was going to tell you,” Iliah mumbled.

“And yet it’s true.”

“Well-- It doesn’t matter--”

“Iliah. Everyone knows. It’s so obvious.” 

Iliah, blushing plum-dark, looked down at her hands in the darkness.

“I don’t care,” Karnalta hastened to add. “Just make sure you don’t tell Father. He’s already scouting out noblemen for you to marry, he’ll be furious.” 

“I can't marry. I need to tell him--"

“Don’t, Iliah. It doesn’t matter that much, does it? He probably won’t make you marry for decades, you don’t have to tell him."

"But--"

"But what? Can’t you just keep it a secret? You’ll cause trouble for nothing! Why do you always have to argue with him?”

“I need to tell him,” Iliah said, raising her voice, “That I’m going to become an Ordinator.”

Silence, at that. 

The grass at Iliah’s feet had never seemed so interesting. She kept her head bowed, waiting for some reprimand: an insult, a shouting, a scathing mockery of her intelligence.

None came; she finally looked up. 

And there was Karnalta, wide-eyed, clutching her knitting to her chest, looking for all the world like she was scared.

And it was in a voice like a frightened child’s that she said, “You’re leaving me.”

Iliah pinned her hands between her knees and said nothing. 

“You can’t,” Karnalta exclaimed. “You can’t leave me here alone!”

“We barely talk any more,” Iliah protested. “I didn’t think you’d care--” 

“You’re the one who doesn’t talk to me!” She sounded angry, now, a frantic sort of angry; she waved her knitting needles at Iliah accusingly. “You’re the one spending all her time with those-- you completely forgot about me! I’m like dirt to you, aren’t I?” 

“Kar, that’s not true.” 

“You don’t care about me at all. You never have!” 

“That’s not true!” 

“How can you just leave me all alone? With nothing?”

“You have your magic!” Iliah raised her voice. “You left me first! What do you need me for now?”

“I need--” 

But Karnalta broke off there, staring at Iliah with a bewildered expression. Her needles, draped with a half-completed scarf, still hung in her hands, the points aimed at Iliah’s face. 

Iliah felt her shoulders tightened, her hands raised slightly from her knees in preparation to block a blow. And she realised she’d been expecting Karnalta to stab her. 

    “I need…” Karnalta repeated herself, lowering her needles. “I need-- oh, gods, my stitches!” And she grabbed at the scarf, slid half-free and dangling limply. “You idiot, Iliah, you made me drop my stupid stitches!”

Iliah lingered only for a moment, watching Karnalta, now absorbed in herself, try to shove the unraveling scarf back onto the needle. It seemed as good a time as any to leave; wordlessly, she rose and left.