#teeth bracelet price

[32watts]

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[agirlnamedelia]

Price Tag and Credit Card Limits || Katsuki x Reader

Genre: fluff Pairing: Katsuki x FEM!Reader Synopsis: You were shopping with Bakugou but every time you saw the price tag, you just had to put it back.

You wandered into the boutique with an excited gleam in your eyes, the vibrant window display pulling you in like a moth to a flame. The racks were lined with beautiful clothes in every style imaginable, each piece seemingly tailored to your taste. Today was supposed to be a treat-yourself day, but as always, the guilt of spending too much loomed over you.

Bakugou had given you his credit card with his usual gruff dismissal, "Just get whatever the hell you want, damn it." It was his way of caring, and though you appreciated his generosity, you couldn't help but feel hesitant to spend his money so freely. He might be your sugar daddy, but that didn’t mean you had to act like some kind of gold digger.

You strolled through the store, picking up a cute blouse here, a stylish jacket there. The soft, silky fabric of a dress caught your attention, and you lifted it off the rack, holding it against your body as you admired it in the mirror. It was perfect—the kind of dress that made you feel like you could conquer the world. But as you glanced at the price tag, your heart sank.

"10,000 yen…" you muttered under your breath, eyes widening slightly.

You quickly hung the dress back on the rack, pretending to yourself and anyone watching that it wasn’t that great anyway. “Hmm, yeah, maybe not my style,” you murmured, moving on to the next item.

From across the store, Bakugou watched you with a keen eye. He wasn’t a fool; he could see the way your eyes lit up when you found something you liked, only to dim the moment you saw the price. It pissed him off a bit, honestly. What was the point of giving you his card if you were just going to put everything back?

He gritted his teeth, waiting until you had moved on to another section of the store before slipping over to the dress you had been eyeing. It was a deep emerald green, a color he knew would look stunning on you. “Excuse me,” he grunted to the nearest salesperson. “Can you get me this in whatever size they just had, and if you have it in a couple more colors, that’d be great.”

The salesperson blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “Of course, sir. Right away.”

Satisfied, Bakugou wandered back towards the center of the store, hands shoved in his pockets as he kept an eye on you. He didn’t get it. If you liked something, just get it. Money wasn’t an issue, and he wanted you to be happy.

You, meanwhile, had moved on to the accessories, fingers grazing over a row of necklaces and bracelets. One necklace in particular caught your eye—a delicate gold chain with a small, heart-shaped pendant. You reached out, your fingers brushing the cool metal, but again, you hesitated. The price tag stared back at you, mocking your hesitation.

With a sigh, you put it back, mumbling to yourself, “Maybe another time…”

Bakugou was already on the move before you had even turned away. He nodded subtly to the salesperson who had been helping him, pointing out the necklace. “Add that, too.”

This little game went on for a while. You would find something you liked, check the price, and then put it back with a wistful expression. And every time, Bakugou would follow behind you, snatching up the item and adding it to his growing pile.

Finally, you made your way to the fitting rooms with a few of the more reasonably priced items you’d picked out, unaware of the surprise that was awaiting you. As you tried on a simple sweater, Bakugou leaned against the wall outside, arms crossed over his chest.

When you stepped out, he eyed you critically, giving a small nod of approval. “Looks good,” he said simply, though his eyes flickered with a hint of satisfaction.

You smiled, doing a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I think I’ll get this one.”

Bakugou merely grunted in response, his expression giving nothing away.

As you headed towards the register, ready to make your purchase, the salesperson hurried over with a large garment bag and a smaller jewelry box. “Here you are, sir,” she said, smiling warmly. “Everything you requested, all packed up.”

You blinked in confusion, looking between Bakugou and the salesperson. “Everything…you requested?”

Bakugou smirked, stepping forward and casually handing over his credit card. “Yeah, everything. Including the stuff you kept putting back.”

Your eyes widened as the realization hit you. “Bakugou! You didn’t…”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What? You think I didn’t notice you eyeing all that stuff and then chickening out ‘cause of the price tag?” He shook his head, his tone softer than usual. “I told you to get whatever you want, didn’t I?”

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, embarrassment and gratitude swirling together in your chest. “I just… I didn’t want to spend too much…”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “It’s my money, and I want to spend it on you. So stop worrying about it, okay? Just let me spoil you a little, damn it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, warmth flooding through you. “Thank you, Bakugou. Really, I… I appreciate it.”

He shrugged, his cheeks tinging just slightly pink. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

The cashier finished ringing up everything, and Bakugou grabbed the bags, handing them to you with a gruff nod. “Here. Let’s get outta here before you start crying or something.”

You laughed, taking the bags from him and leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best, you know that?”

He snorted, looking away to hide the way his ears turned red. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s just go, dumbass.”

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[princessbrunette]

i heard toxic!jj and i came running….you just know he’s got a mean jealous streak and has no problem fucking you in public to stake his claim - 🐰

RISE BUNNY NONNIE RISE !!!!!!!!!

˖⁺‧₊🥛🐈‍⬛ 𝜗𝜚

the idea of mewling and pawing at his chest, eyes all glassy n nervous at a bonfire party when he drags you round to just the other side of where the twinkie is parked up— the partygoers only a few metres away at best.

his jaw ticks, because he wished you would actually tell these creepy ass guys to fuck off sometimes, instead of just politely giggling out of nerves. it makes these idiots think they have a chance, and now he’s gotta fix that.

“nah, you’re good babydoll. just doin’ what i gotta do, let it happen.” he shrugs as he walks you backwards until your back is against the cool door of the twinkie, just out of eyesight from everyone.

“people are gonna see!” you squeak, your wide doe eyes a stark comparison to the way his are hanging low, the smell of weed coming off him in warm waves reminding you of the herb in his system. he bites back a smirk when he yanks your skirt up with one hand and stuffs a hand into your panties with the other, ropey bracelet on his hand catching briefly in the material.

“so… stay quiet? i dunno what to tell you.” he shrugs one shoulder again, eyes searching you frantically as coarse fingers work at your clit, your wetness giving yourself away. “now how did i know you’d already be wet?” he speaks at normal volume, could be heard by anyone standing close enough.

your breath hitches and your leg jerks open, gripping his wrist when he spreads your folds with his surrounding fingers so that he could stroke your clit directly. “mmph— ‘cus i’m— always wet for you jayj.” you try and get on his good side and he smirks, rolling his eyes.

“i’m startin’ to think you like pissing me off, mama. gets you wet when im all mean. i’m right, aren’t i? tell me i’m right.” he grits his teeth as he dips lower, stuffing two fingers inside you.

you yelp, tears springing to your eyes at the realisation of how loud you’re being. he massages your insides, walls still sore from the pounding you got the night before.

“s—sensitive jay!” you let out a pathetic little cry and he breathes a gust of air out his nose in amusement, shaking his head.

“should have thought of that ‘fore you got all cute around those losers. pay the price, baby— pay the price.”

˖⁺‧₊🥛🐈‍⬛ 𝜗𝜚

[lhatake87]

⚠️ Please be advised the following content is meant for 18+⚠️

🚨 Please review triggers🚨

Grimmjow (Bleach) x Reader

Trigger Warning: Possible triggers in this one shot include (but are not limited to) praise, degrading, edging, light BDSM, and alcohol.

—————

Agitated didn't even begin to describe how Grimmjow felt as he walked through the city. He should've known that anything Kisuke Urahara had to offer would come with a price. And an annoying one at that. Her name was Y/n. Soul Reaper turned Visord because the old perv wanted a new experiment. That was Grimmjow's take on it, at least. Urahara was the one who turned the woman.

"Why do I have to train her?" Grimmjow snapped.

Hiding behind his fan, Kisuke waved his hand, "Mr. Kurosaki is currently busy with his family."

"Tch," Grimmjow looked into the front of the store as the h/c spoke with Nel. "Why not Nel?"

As Grimmjow asked the question, the two men watched as Nel removed her bracelet, turning her into the toddler she loved to be. Grimmjow sighed at the action before sliding open the door. Kisuke didn't have to answer Grimmjow. He could feel the instability in the woman's spiritual pressure.

"Come on, runt," Nel spun around before slipping her bracelet back on. "You're going back home."

"Grimmy!" Nel was cheerful in the time of peace.

Fighting the urge to snap at the blue-headed bombshell, Grimmjow focused on his newest task. "You're coming with me, kid."

"KID?!" Grimmjow hadn't expected the Soul Reaper to bite back. "We're probably the same age!" She shouted as he moved closer.

Grimmjow didn't stop until he was less than an inch from the woman. Blue eyes drilled into e/c ones as he told her, "Still a kid." As she peered at the much taller male, she wondered if she should continue the backlash. "That's what I thought. Training room," Grimmjow turned away, "come on."

And that was a little over six weeks ago.

——————

"Why the fuck would he let her go out with those dumbasses," it was a rhetorical question as Grimmjow shoved his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.

While he hated his gagai, he knew he couldn't storm through the world of the living as he sought out the woman. Her spiritual pressure was close. Along with three Soul Reapers. There was something wrong. Maybe wrong wasn't the right word. Grimmjow could sense that Y/n was upset. Her spiritual pressure flared before suddenly leveling out. Quickening his pace, Grimmjow headed for the building where he could feel the woman.

Grinding his teeth, Grimmjow walked into the restaurant. He didn't have to search for the group. A certain busty blonde's loud and boisterous laugh carried through the room. Making his way through the small crowd, he caught the eyes of Y/n. E/c eyes shimmered for a moment before they were filled with confusion.

"Grimmjow?" She asked as he moved in closer. "What are you doing here?"

The three Soul Reapers, in their gagais, tensed. Renji looked to his left, where Grimmjow had stepped between him and Y/n. "Shouldn't you be in Hueco Mundo?" Renji's cheeks may have been tinted with a blush, but he quickly sobered.

Ignoring Renji, Grimmjow told Y/n, "That's my line, Kid. We were supposed to go to Hueco Mundo for training."

"Stop calling me that!" Her small shout made Shuhei and Rangiku stop their giggling.

"Maybe you should use that anger to do some fighting," Grimmjow teased. "Now, let's go."

When Grimmjow took hold of her wrist, Y/n froze momentarily. Grimmjow had a strict 'no contact' policy unless they were exchanging blows. The shock quickly vanished as she wrenched her arm from his grasp.

"I'm having fun," Y/n retorted as she crossed her arms.

Rather than turning back, Grimmjow looked Renji in the eyes. "I said let's go, Kid."

"No," she repeated her refusal.

Renji shrugged lazily, "She said no, Espada."

While it wasn't as menacing in his gagai, Grimmjow growled. It was low and throaty. Looking over his shoulder, he said, "Then why did your spiritual pressure flare?"

Renji watched Y/n closely as Grimmjow's question registered. Y/n's face fell slightly.

"What are you talking about?" Her defensive posture began to fade as she dropped her arms.

"Tch," Grimmjow let it go. "You're being a brat. Let's go."

Eyes narrowed, Y/n told him, "Make. Me."

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as Grimmjow turned around. He took the last step towards Y/n that placed him close enough their breath mingled. He could smell the sake on her. She was tipsy. It gave her a false confidence. Eyes boring into her, Y/n waited for Grimmjow's next move. He didn't have to move. The pure energy that rolled off of Grimmjow was placed solely on Y/n. It was crushing.

Y/n sucked in a breath, trying to fill her lungs with the air she so desperately needed. Watching her struggle, Grimmjow almost gave in. Then he realized that he liked it. He liked watching her become vulnerable because of him. He liked being in control of her. He liked her needing him in someway.

When Y/n's hand clutched onto Grimmjow's forearm, relief washed over her. Lifting her head, she couldn't discern the look in the male's eyes as he peered down at her.

"I'll see you three later," Y/n said meekly. "Thank you for visiting."

Whatever the Soul Reapers said fell on deaf ears as Grimmjow took hold of Y/n's hand. He maneuvered through the crowd before leaving the restaurant. Once in the street, Grimmjow wasted no time using Shinpo to arrive at Urahara's shop.

Letting go of Y/n's hand, Grimmjow entered the small building. Y/n nearly stumbled at the loss of contact. Quickly following after the brooding male, Y/n wondered what kind of torture was in store for her. They were silent as they trekked through the shop and towards the training grounds.

Once underground, Y/n began to ask, "I thought-"

Her question was never finished as Grimmjow pinned her to the wall. His long fingers were wrapped around her throat. Body pressed against her. Leg poised between her thighs as he stared at her.

"Tell me why you lied," Grimmjow seethed. "Why were you upset back there?"

Defiance and uncertainty swirled in Y/n's gaze. "It doesn't matter." Her voice was low. "It's not like you care anyway."

Another growl left the Espada. "I asked you a fucking question, you brat."

"And I don't have to answer it," she tried matching the distaste in his voice. "Quit calling me names."

As Grimmjow grinned madly, Y/n could only imagine the expression on his true self and not the doll he wore. She hated his gagai.

"You don't like being called names," his thumbs traced her quickening pulse. "Maybe you shouldn't play games you can't win, little toy."

A jolt of electricity danced over Y/n. Grimmjow felt every beat of her heart when he said the name. He had meant it as a taunting joke. He couldn't deny the spark of pleasure that ran through him as he watched her eyes dilate for a split second.

"I'm not a fucking toy, Grimm." Y/n hardly called him Grimm. She knew not to call him Grimmy. Nel was the only one who could get away with that.

"We'll see about that," Grimmjow pushed off of her. "Get out of that damn thing. I'm going to kick your ass."

Doing as she was told, Y/n only complied because she wanted to kick his ass. Grimmjow eyed the h/c carefully. Her clothes were different than usual. Rather than her Soul Reaper Shihakusho, she was dressed in human clothes.

"The fuck are you wearing?" Grimmjow asked.

Looking down, she threw her hands up, "Kisuke gave them to me. They're better to train in."

"Have you been training with that damn pervert again?" Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. "He'd be pleased seeing you prance around in that."

Smirking, Y/n crossed her arms. The white tank top made the motion bring attention to her boobs. "Jealous, Grimmy?"

"Did you just fucking call me 'Grimmy'?" The words were low as he grit them out.

As she cocked a hip, the loose black athletic shorts shifted. "Doesn't kitty want to play?"

Growling, Grimmjow lowered his stance, preparing to strike. "Kitty's going to play, alright."

That was the only warning before Y/n was tackled to the ground. The two rolled a few times before Y/n ended up with the advantage. Springing to her feet, she used Shinpo to distance herself from the angry Espada. Perhaps she had pushed too many buttons of his.

Hiding behind a rock, Y/n thought about the best strategy to defeat Grimmjow. She's never won their fights during training. And there was nothing about this fight that would be gentle. Grimmjow was going to go all out. Y/n may have been a sixth seat, but that was nothing compared to the former Sexta.

"I can smell you, my little Visord," Grimmjow was languid in his movements as he approached the boulder Y/n was pressed against. "I think I'll stick to my little toy, though."

The anger bubbled within Y/n at the taunting name. Since her spiritual pressure flared, it only confirmed what Grimmjow's nose could discern. She was behind the rock. Quietly, he climbed the structure. Peering down at the beautiful h/c, Grimmjow paused. Her pulse was stuttering as her head swiveled. She wasn't focused. Either the alcohol had gotten to her, or she was anxious.

Flipping down, Grimmjow pinned Y/n to the rough-edged stone. "You gonna tell me what your problem is?"

Gasping, Y/n drew her hand back to strike Grimmjow. Quickly catching it, Grimjoww grinned in triumph. Repeating the action, Grimmjow held both wrists against the rough stone. Y/n's breathing was as erratic as her heart as she stared into the Espada's eyes. She felt as though she was drowning in those deep pools of blue. There was no air filling her lungs. She needed to ground herself. She needed to surface again before she fell to the depths.

When Y/n leaned forward, Grimmjow froze. As he sucked in a breath, her lips met his. Grimmjow was too shocked to react at first. Stunned by the bold move that was unlike the woman. Gathering his thoughts, Grimmjow released Y/n's wrists. One hand threaded into her hair while the other pinned her hip to the stone.

Jerking back roughly, Grimmjow asked harshly, "The fuck are you doing, little toy?"

Grimmjow's eyes watched as Y/n chewed at her lip before cutting her eyes away, "I was trying to distract you enough to attack."

Giving a quick tug to Y/n's hair, Grimmjow enjoyed the spark of delight in her eyes as she gasped. "We both know you're lying, little kitty." Y/n's eyes dilated again, "Did you like that name? What about pet?" Y/n pursed her lips. "No? How about my little pet?"

When Y/n didn't move aside from her teeth grazing her lower lip, Grimmjow pressed his body to hers. The purr that escaped Grimmjow made Y/n's entire body vibrate along with him. His knee wedged itself between her legs, pressing against her sensitive clit. All she's done since her eyes met his was fantasize about having sex with him.

"Does my little pet want to play?" Something struck both of them. "I think you'll like it more than you want to admit, kitten. Does my little kitten want to play with the big bad kitty?"

To all things holy, Y/n wanted to play. Badly.

All Y/n could do at that moment was nod as she rolled her hips against his thigh. Grimmjow took a deep breath in as Y/n's scent grew heavy. It incased his senses, making his vision blur. The Espada would have to be careful to not lose control. Going feral wasn't an option with someone like Y/n. She wouldn't be able to take the brutality that was pent up inside Grimmjow. The man could admit, to himself, that the thought of fucking Y/n was more than fleeting.

The pressure against her body was suffocating. It was fueling the fire that Grimmjow had ignited. The world spun on its axis as they stared at one another. They were trying to solve the puzzle of one another. Not only that, they were trying to decipher what this would mean. Once they have sex, will that change who they are to each other? Would this be a one time thing? Grimmjow secretly hoped this was just the beginning. And Y/n, well she thought the same.

Stepping through the Garganta, Y/n grew anxious with every step they took. Calling Grimmjow's home a lair was far too fitting. Though, the home was rather spacious and filled with surprisingly expensive things. This wasn't the first time Y/n had been to his home. This was the first time she was keenly aware of his belongings.

The rug was soft beneath her bare feet. Her eyes scanned the plush looking couch and wondered if Grimmjow enjoyed soft things. Looking back on the time she's known him, he's always rubbing against fabric of some kind. He is a cat, after all.

"Are you sure about this, kitten?" Grimmjow sounded as though he was teasing. When in fact, he was rather serious about the matter.

Y/n turned her head to focus on Grimmjow. She watched as he tossed his jacket to the floor. Had she ever been in his bedroom? The thought made her chest tighten as her heart raced in anticipation. Possibly a bit of anxiety.

"You don't scare me, Grimmy," She smirked at him before pulling her shirt over her head.

Something between a snort and a growl left Grimmjow as he closed the distance between them. He was so much taller than her and she never thought about until now. He would have to lean down a bit, but his chin could easily rest on the top of her head. This only made her even more excited as she thought about the power he would have over her. She loved the thought of him controlling her. Toying with her. But deep down, she knew that Grimmjow would protect her. He wasn't a man of words. Grimmjow was a man of action.

If Y/n had wanted to continue taunting Grimmjow, it was pointless. In one swift motion, Grimmjow shredded the remainder of her clothes. As Y/n gasped, he yanked her closer by the nape of her neck.

"Looks like I hurt my kitten," Grimmjow mused as he noticed the small scratch against the top of Y/n's breast. "Let me clean it for you, pet."

Y/n sucked in a breath when his tongue traced the blood on her flesh. Grimmjow hummed happily as he continued lapping at her wound. She stood as still as possible while her eyes fluttered close at the feeling of him touching and caressing her with his hand and mouth. He was torturing her. The laps against her skin were slow and languid. He didn't seem eager to make this torture end either.

When his teeth grazed against the scratch, Y/n shuddered. Grimmjow inhaled deeply as Y/n's scent grew even heavier. She was eager, willing and all too ready for him. He wondered how long she'd been thinking of him as she fingered herself in her bed. Had she dreamt of him fucking her and woken with damp panties? Had he been oblivious to her desires? The thought made him furious. Grimmjow let his fangs pierce Y/n's flesh in an attempt at calming himself.

"GRIMM!" Y/n's scream was laced with lust as her hands flew to him. She gripped the back of his neck while her other hand was clinging to his forearm.

Blood lust satisfied, Grimmjow pulled away to begin lapping at the already bruising bite mark. "Sorry, kitten," he chuckled, "I have to taste all of you."

Those words made Y/n rub her thighs together. The aroma of her juices made Grimmjow growl deeply. Standing upright, he looked into her eyes. Both their gazes were heavy with a need that only they could satisfy. There was more between these two than either had expected. Setting aside the thought for now, Grimmjow stepped away.

Turning, he pointed to the bed, "I hope you're ready, pet." Y/n moved to crawl onto the blue velvet blanket. "I'm not going to hold back."

Only Grimmjow would have chains in his lair. Y/n shouldn't have been surprised at all. Was she truly going to let him tie her up with them? A strip of leather was tossed to the bed beside the two bundles of chains. The chains didn't look too heavy, but again, the thought of being tied down for him to worship and torture her was too alluring.

"I don't want you to," were the words Y/n offered as Grimmjow finally turned around.

If Grimmjow had a heart, it would've stopped. Y/n had spread her legs wide for him. Her hair was a mess from his grip earlier. Hands lay innocently beside her head as she gazed at him. She was waiting for him. There was no hesitation in her need to have him. Warmth filled Grimmjow at the knowledge. Of course, Grimmjow has had plenty of lovers. But Y/n, she CHOSE this. There was something different about this moment. About this woman.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Grimmjow mulled over what he wanted to do to her. "Do you want a safe word?"

Kind of surprised, Y/n grinned devilishly, "Ichigo."

"You little brat," Grimmjow gripped one of her ankles, "I'm going to enjoy fucking some sense into you. Teach you who's in control."

Yanking her leg, Grimmjow began to wrap one of the chains around her leg. Y/n hissed at the cold metal meeting her skin. He snaked the chain around her ankle before continuing up her leg. The last bit of metal was wrapped around the flesh of her thigh. Y/n hadn't noticed, but there was a hook at either end of the chain, allowing Grimmjow to lock the chain. With how tightly the chain was wound, it wasn't moving.

The action was repeated as Y/n watched Grimmjow's movements. The way his shoulders moved with each motion. His forearms as they flexed. His hands as they grazed her body. She could see the hunger in his eyes as he cut them upward.

"What's the leather for?" Y/n hesitated to ask as she saw him pick it up.

"Ask too many questions and I'll use it to gag you," his threat wasn't much of one, but Y/n decided to remain silent. "Close your eyes." Y/n followed his command. "Don't open them, kitten. Kitty is ready to play."

Y/n's mouth opened to comment about him calling himself kitty, but that didn't happen. Instead, there was a startled yelp that ended in a moan. The leather was tapped to Y/n's clit as Grimmjow pushed her legs open further. She was already seeping from her folds. Grimmjow increased the pressure with each strike to her bud.

The noises leaving her grew louder with each passing strike. The delicious feeling of the chains pressing into her added to the euphoria. Y/n swore she would orgasm if he didn't stop. There was a pause in his ministrations before Grimmjow pulled Y/n further down the bed. Her knees bent and feet dangled off the bed. When his hand wrapped around her throat, Y/n tilted her head back and gasped.

"Do you wanna cum, kitten?" Grimmjow asked as he used the leather to tease her throbbing clit.

"Y-yes," she managed to say as she rolled her hips.

"What was that?" Grimmjow gave a quick squeeze to her throat.

"Yes," she gasped.

Instead of tightening his grip on her throat, Grimmjow slapped the leather against her breasts, "I think you're forgetting something, kid."

Y/n hated the sounds she was making as she mewled with every touch from him. "P-please." Another harsh strike. "P-p-lease, Grimm!"

Feeling the weight shift around her, Y/n guessed that Grimmjow was bending forward. She wasn't sure what to expect and she tensed. One hand still at her throat, Grimmjow settled the other on her hip, pinning her to the plush bed. Startled, and sensitive, Y/n let out a soft scream when Grimmjow's tongue ran over her clit. Next he lapped at her slit before flicking her bud. She tried with all her might to buck against his mouth with ever lick he gave. It was futile.

"Stay still, kitten," another lap, "or I'll tie you down to the bed."

Those words made Y/n writhe under Grimmjow, eliciting a growl from the Espada. Moving from the foot of the bed, he walked to the side of it. Taking hold of a cuff, he reached for Y/n's hand. Slipping it on, he kissed the inside of her wrist before tightening the restraint. He offered the same treatment to her ankles and other wrist. Her feet were now planted on the floor, leaving her exposed to Grimmjow and whatever wonderful things he hand planned for her.

Standing before the beauty that lay before him, Grimmjow was stunned. Could she be any more perfect? She gave the man a headache every day he saw her. Her mouth made him want to teach her a lesson. Her body was amazing to watch as she trained. Getting to see her like this, on display, ready, willing and needy for him- he thought he might be going crazy.

In the same position as before, Grimmjow wasted no time in suckling her clit. Y/n tried to wiggle her hips in a feeble attempt to have control over the pressure. With the build up, Y/n was creeping closer and closer to the edge. Grimmjow was eager to taste the mana that flowed from Y/n as she reached her first high.

"Gr-imm!" Y/n continued to wriggle as Grimmjow refused to pull away.

In through, he wanted her to experience him as no other woman had. He wanted her to feel as though she's never had sex before. That this was how sex should feel. Y/n trembled as the overstimulation grew. Tears prickled and she wanted to blink them away, but feared that Grimmjow would be upset with her.

Languidly, Grimmjow moved to Y/n's dripping slit. He was slightly disappointed to see that he had allowed some to slide onto the blanket. He wanted to drink all of her in. His tongue was softer, kinder, as he lapped at her juice. Y/n's chest heaved with pants as she came down from the peak of the rollercoaster Grimmjow had sent her on.

"You okay, kitten?" His tone conveyed genuine concern as he pulled away.

Oh, how beautiful she was. Her chest was splotched red from the fire that danced inside of her veins. She had tugged a bit at her restraints, causing red marks to form. Those beautiful eyes were still shut as she continued to breathe heavily.

"Yes," She admitted breathlessly.

Sharp nails traced the chains that bound her, "Wanna tell me what the problem was now?"

"No," this time her admission sounded broken.

Kneading the flesh of her hips, Grimmjow told Y/n, "I won't let you cum again until you tell me, pet."

Chewing at her lip, Y/n thought of what to say. On one hand, she didn't want to tell Grimmjow what had happened while she was out with old friends. Then again, she didn't want Grimmjow to edge her either.

"I don't want to tell you," she whispered.

Sighing, Grimmjow crawled onto the bed, hovering over Y/n, "Why not?" He was frustrated with her now.

After feeling his breath fan across her face, Y/n turned her head away, "You'll think I'm weak. You won't care anyway."

That stung. It stung way more than Grimmjow had wanted it to.

"Quit being a brat," he yanked on her hair to bring her face back to his. "Open your eyes and tell me what that piece of shit Soul Reaper did."

Blinking, Y/n nearly gasped at the male above her. His hair was a chaotic mess of blue. The bone fragment was tightly clenched, signaling that his entire jaw was as well. His eyes. His eyes were heavy, laden with lust, fury and something else.

"Renji didn't do anything," she spoke softly. When Grimmjow growled lowly, she sighed. "He didn't." She repeated. "I- I was jealous. Seeing them together. Knowing I can never go back. Renji and I used to- I'm lonely."

Unable to take the broken look in her eyes, Grimmjow kissed her deeply. The action caught Y/n off guard. As Grimmjow continued to ravage Y/n's mouth, he used his free hand to yank the cuffs from her wrists. Y/n didn't fight the urge to reach for him. She was desperate for him. The look in his eyes possessed her. She never wanted him to leave her side. Hell, she never wanted him to leave her bed.

When Grimmjow gave into the temptation finally, he knew he'd be a changed... man? Espada? Whatever the word should be, Y/n had changed him. This was where he belonged. The red string of fate tied them together and there was no breaking it. No matter what or who attempted to pull them apart, Grimmjow vowed at that moment to slaughter them.

Y/n moaned heavily into their kiss as Grimmjow pushed into her. He was gentle as he eased himself into her cunt. Y/n squeezed her eyes closed at the tinge of pain that prickled her senses. Grimmjow's girth was not something Y/n had anticipated. When Grimmjow began to move, Y/n whimpered softly.

"Don't worry, kitten," Grimmjow murmured into her lips, "you won't be lonely anymore."

[dimepdf]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄. + 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. Armin works hard to get those boyfriend bragging rights.

pairing. college student!armin arlet x reader

genre and warnings. modern au, suggestive ending, established relationship, domestic vibes, relationship fluff, subby!armin | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Your boyfriend Armin was never really one for showing out when it came to gift giving, mostly because of his wallet.

As a college kid in debt, it never really allowed him to splurge on just about everything that he had ever wanted without the post-spending clarity hitting him like a semi truck.

He also had an apathetic attitude toward the cost of gifts. He believed that a gift would be priceless as long as it was given from the heart. 

But after hearing all of your friends brag about their boyfriends buying them pricey jewelry like golden bracelets and rhinestone lockets, he noticed how your entire demeanor had changed. 

He decided he needed to shift into high gear and put a little extra cash in his pockets for boyfriend bragging rights.

It took him only two months to finally settle down with a nice amount of cash to finally bite the bullet and wince at the deposit notification from his bank account.

After heavy research on zodiac signs, Armin purchased a small pear-shaped gemstone pendant that had your birthstone, even though everything had seemed to just fall into place when it came to your relationship.

After deciding that you had just wanted to lay low for your birthday, Armin suggested that he could take you to dinner for the weekend at a restaurant that was just perfect in his price range for the rest of the money that he had to spend, including a tip.

The box had been burning a hole in his suit pocket the entire dinner, waiting for the perfect moment in between your conversations to give it to you.

In his growing nervous fit, Armin had finally talked himself into it just as the night was about to come to an end.

In the comfort of his apartment bedroom, you two sat on his bed, the TV hooked up to his Wii, where you had been completely kicking his ass in Mario Kart. 

As you had already removed your makeup and dressed in something more comfortable to sleep in, you still looked completely gorgeous since the first day he had met you. 

Armin quickly shut his bedroom door, wanting a little more privacy from his other roommates as he staggered around the room, and it was only then that you noticed something was wrong. 

The sight of his trembling hands in front of your face, just a little too close to showcase the necklace to you, was the most heart-warming memory that you had known you were bound to cherish. 

The exchange was adorable, teasing him as you stood with your back turned, his fingers brushing against your skin as he clasped the metal in place. 

You knew how hard he had to work just to get it, and your smile never dropped as you turned around and peppered his face with kisses.

The display of affection was naively innocent at first, kissing along his jaw before Armin could backstep against the bed. The guide of your hands pushed him to sit against the mattress with a look that made him exhale.

Your kisses continued the moment you leaned down. Your knee slid between his legs as your lips continued down to his neck.

Armin’s head craned to the side without much protest, his eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of your mouth finding the spot that made him shiver with arousal engulfed him.

The huff of his breath enticed you to straddle Armin's lap. You'd already felt the bulge of his erection against your thigh, begging for any kind of attention, and his hips were desperate for contact. 

You had brought his idle hands around your hips, allowing them to grind down against your hips at a slow pace, his head leaning back as his teeth grazed his bottom lip, biting to keep himself quiet from the grunt that threatened to slip from his throat.

"How about," you began, your fingers encircling his neck."Can I give you your gift now?"

You kissed Armin again, pulling away with a nibble of his bottom lip as his pleas had become desperate as his head bobbed. "Beg for it."

🔖 ...

tap here to be added to taglist.

[hunterbunter3000]

sweetheart collects little trinkets she finds on the field and around base (sometimes steals things she likes, nothing big) to gives to the boys (and laswell), the boys treat them like collectibles and get pissy when someone tries to take them. they often show them off to each other to see what they have. the trinkets range from rocks/stones/pebbles, small keychain accessories, flowers etc. to bullet shells, bones, teeth??? etc.

sometimes they get handmade trinkets (where sweetheart makes something outta the trinkets she finds) price has a handmade fishhook made outta a broken safety pin, massive metallic bead and a metal feather earring stud,he put it on his hat and gets all happy when someone mentions it, soap got a bracelet made outta random beads and some string (maybe some bone), gaz has a pin made outta a bottle cap that she got from a night of drinking, the bottle cap is from gaz’ a fav alcohol drink, ghost got bones in a jar with a little skull ornament on the side, the list can go on, they are all impressed by her craftsmanship but are heavily concerned where she gets the more morbid and obscene materials from

the boys will defend their trinkets with their life and refuse to trade (St, gave me it, fuck off and get your own)

IM KICKING MY FEET RNNNN THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😍😍😭😭💖💕 I love how everyone came together and said "Yeah Sweetheart is a weird goblin and we love her" LMAOOO

May I add on to the trinkets just a bit--

The kleptomaniac collector and scavenger of things will find the best items on the battlefield istg-- everytime she kills the enemy, she always picks on their gear and scavenges around to find anything she likes. Soap and Roach honestly help her find things (like a coin with a bullet hole in it, or a finger. Maybe an ear or an antique cup from an abandoned home) and give to her so she can make something out of it

She gets so excited when she finds old flasks because she can fix em and give them to Cap or Graves (as much as she hates him, she always thinks of him) and she gets SUPER excited when Krueger comes back to the base after being out of the country and gives her rare findings (like a crystal bowl or an old pocket watch! He did steal a real diamond before for her, that was a fun day HA)

Laswell honestly looks forward to her crafts because her wife loves them (I have a headcannon that Laswell and her wife have emotionally adopted Sweetheart AHAHA) Sometimes her wife would give Laswell rocks and feathers that she found at home so Laswell can give it to Sweetheart (she's so giddy everytime)

Once the week is almost over, they have SSS (Sweetheart Scavenger Sundays) and the guys show what they have LOL Horangi would even FaceTime Rodolfo and Alejandro to show off what Sweetheart sent them (Alejandro has a necklace that's laced with silver and gold teeth and human finger bones, a handmade knife sheath made out of rabbit skin, and a tiny house made out of tank metal. Rodolfo has a carved wooden bunny, a lucky gecko tail key chain, and a pouch full of silver coins)

They love all of her gifts, even though they're weird and sketchy as fuck, but it's thoughtful! And don't touch them or ask to have it or they will give you the side eye

[eiraeths]

so a character list for the monster-magic au:

- witch soap: full blood witch. doesn’t need to siphon magic to use it. gets energy from calories and sleep. has to hide magic cause yknow last of his kind working for the government? bad combo. doesn’t need a book of shadows. spells are said in scottish gaelic and can defy the laws of nature. even though he can summon shit like water out of nowhere it still has to come from somewhere so there’s an equal opposite reaction for everything. gets sick often due to limited magic.

- vampire ghost: mostly human looking with red eyes, pointed ears, and sharp teeth. weaker in the day and stronger at night. night vision, immortality, enhanced senses, agility. the whole nine yards. weak to fire, silver, daylight, and decapitation.

- siren gaz: scaled face, finned ears, webbed hands with long nails and webbed feet, and shark teeth. can hypnotize people or do full mind control. hypnotism means they aren’t aware of what they’re doing and mind control means they are and can’t do anything about it. gets weak if dehydrated or has low sodium. also an amazing swimmer.

- gargoyle price: dragon like wings with impenetrable skin. can’t venture too far from what he’s protecting so can always be found near a team member. can camouflage self and fly. stronger at night. heals slowly due to the make-up of his skin and has a weakness to daylight.

- gorgon laswell: SNAKE HAIR. venomous snake hair. can choose if the venom is acidic or paralytic. has enhanced smell, taste, and eyesight.

- werecoyote alejandro: shapeshifter with yellow eyes, claws, a tail, and pointed ears in human form. keeps intelligence in full shift and can be considered deadlier than a werewolf because of that. can control shifts if has an anchor (rudy is his anchor)

- sorcerer rudy: relies on a conduit, which is a ring. is the strongest tier out of all magics and has a book of shadows for spells and what not. doesn’t have unlimited energy which typically comes from calories and sleep. has to follow the rules of nature so can’t summon water out of nowhere or summon wind inside like soap can.

- manticore valeria: bat like wings with the tail of a scorpion, claws, lion’s feet. can poison people with the quills of tail although it acts like a paralytic. also three rows of teeth. can and will eat people.

- conductor graves: is the second tier of magic user. needs a bigger conduit like a wand or bracelets. (he uses a wand because he’s dramatic. needs a book of shadows and has even less energy than rudy. uses his status as a magic user to get loyalty from his shadows plus a secret :)

-shepherd is a human but there is also a secret behind that :D

[gatorlovebot]

My pain is better today, so my brain is working again (at least a little bit lmao), so claiming and puppy Simon!!! I have a couple thoughts on it

1. I think that he wants something to show his devotion to you, both inside and outside puppy-space. You have given him a love he never even knew existed, let alone thought he deserved, and he might not be ready to give you a ring (might not ever be ready for it, might not even be able to with the whole “being legally dead” thing). But a necklace seems too close to a collar, and something with just his initials or a heart of it doesn’t feel big enough, not with how much you’ve changed his life. One day, when he’s spacing out and fiddling with his dog tags, he gets the idea. He gets you a special chain thing that can convert between a bracelet and a necklace, and on the chain? One of his dog tags. He tells you, in part it’s a way of showing that you belong with him, but it’s also a promise to everything and everyone that he will follow you everywhere, including into death. If they ever find you dead, his soul will have departed with you, and Price or anyone else will have to bury you together (or if you want to be cremated, mix your ashes together). Simon is a strong man, who has fought to survive through so much physical and emotional pain, but a world without you is one he refuses to live in, so this is his promise to you.

2. In much smuttier news, he also love biting you. It started as his nervous nips, then a communication tactic, then he just had an oral fixation and your fingers are so good to have in his mouth and having your neck in his mouth soothes his fixation, reminds him your alive because he can taste your pulse, and makes you all squirmy <3 one day while he’s humping you, he bites at you to try to silence himself a bit, and ends up biting too hard and breaks the skin. Poor puppy gets so hard everytime he sees the scabbed over bite as it heals, and just glancing at it can send him into puppy space. You, of course, notice and decide, after a week where Simon has been a bit insecure that you’re going to have him mark you properly with his bite. You sit down and tell your puppy to come. He kneels before you, curious, and you tell him to sit on your lap and put his teeth on your throat. He follows with no hesitation, and just mindlessly rests his teeth against that spot, his breathes causing you to shiver in hot anticipation. “Now, I want you to be a good boy, and bite.” Simon freezes: Simon the man flinching at the thought of hurting you, Simon the puppy wanting to follow your orders blindly and wanting to mark you, and Ghost wanting to taste your blood on your own order. “I know, puppy, you’re a good boy for thinking of my safety first even when I order something, my smart and sweet boy <3 but I want to have your mark on my body forever, so I want you to bite and if it heals, I’ll just have you bite over and over again until it stays <3. So, as long as you’re ok with it, I’ll ask again: Puppy, bite”.

3. A tiny bit of piss play, as a treat to myself: Simon completely underestimates just how far into puppy space he would be able to sink when this all first started. First, he thought he’d never be able to do it, then that he’d be able to play along but not get super out of his head, but now he’s here, and he’s fighting against instincts he shouldn’t have since he’s not actually a fucking dog. He shouldn’t be basically chewing up your used underwear, rubbing them all over himself to get the scent to stick around longer, or getting annoyed when any actual dog comes by you, and he sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about pissing on you to claim you. I think out of everything, that’s something he keeps buried so deep within himself, wrapped in shame and disgust. He never meant to tell you, and he never would’ve. Except one day, he falls DEEP into puppy space, and he drank a lot of water from his bowl, and you were being so hot so he couldn’t keep himself from humping. Usually, when Simon is in puppy space, especially for longer scenes, you make sure to tell him to “go potty” every once in a while, because 1) it drives in the puppy space deeper and proves that you can take care of him and all his bodily needs and 2) you don’t want to risk him going to deep and having an accident and then being too ashamed to be a puppy again. But you didn’t see how much water he drank from his bowl, and thought the break earlier was enough :(( so Simon is humping you, and his cock fees leaky, and he’s so desperate and the a burst of liquid comes out, not cum, and Simon freezes and starts to whine distressed and pulling off you to hide his puppy cock with his hands. You realize what happened, and immediately are comforting him and petting him, and you guide him to the bathroom but come in with him because you are afraid if you leave him alone at this point he will spiral, all while trying to ignore how hot it was that this giant man got so lost in being your puppy he didn’t know he needed to piss and inadvertently pissed on you a lil like a puppy trying to mark its territory. You bring him back, and have to have a long conversation with him both in and out of puppy space about how you don’t mind, that you even find it a little attractive, but that you will watch him more closely in scenes to make sure this doesn’t happen again if that’s what he wants. It takes a long, long time with a lot of discussions, communication and research for Simon to be ok with it happening again, but he can’t deny that he gets insanely turned on by the thought of pissing himself as he humps you again, claiming you as his just like puppies do <3

Sorry it’s still not the best, and not the most coherent, but if you have anything you want me to expand on, I absolutely will!

-🐶

bestie, honey, sweetie, literal LOVE OF MY LIFE how do you know exactly what i need every single time? somehow you are in my brain reading my thoughts because whenever you send me a message about puppy simon it's like tailor made for me <3 i'm also very glad to hear that you're feeling better. "sorry it's still not the best" anon, i promise that i want to hear all of your thoughts about puppy simon, no matter how jumbled they are (not saying these thoughts are jumbled, they're literally so beautiful and delicious). but always feel free to word vomit about puppy simon in my inbox.

i love the dog tag idea and tbh it made me tear up a little bit because yeah you've given him a world he never thought possible, a world that's only worth it if you're in it. and i love how it kind of subverts the roles ya know, like him, the puppy, giving you dog tags. would also love to hear your thoughts on collaring simon because i looooove collaring but i think it's something you two have to work up to. puppy simon would looove a collar but simon the person has his hangups, fearful he would feel restricted and panic.

the biting is everything and your writing is just. something else, dude. he just loves having his mouth on your skin, your body is his favorite toy. and he didn't mean to break skin, he just gets so worked up when he humps and humps and humps, he gets so loud and it's so embarrassing to him sometimes that he needs to muffle himself a little bit. he feels sooo bad when he first breaks skin, but feels even worse at the way it makes his cock twitch and leak. he shouldn't want to hurt you when all you do is coo at him and pet him :( picturing him climbing into your lap because god he's so fucking big but he's just your little boy, your sweet little lap dog <3

he cums in your lap when he tastes your blood and hears your wounded cry, he laps at your blood, cleaning up his mess. and the claiming bites work for him out of puppy space too. the dog tags are one thing to claim you and prove his devotion, but something material can't express his need for you, his hunger for you like a bite mark can.

piss play! piss play! piss play! anon, i'm giving you a kiss. with tongue. this is what i love so much about this au because as filthy as it is it's all about communication and trust building and meeting other's needs. reminding him to go potty during a scene so you can prove to him you can be in charge of his needs? taking on that responsibility so he doesn't have to think about anything other than being a happy puppy? i need it saur bad.

also love the drinking out of a bowl mention because above anything the puppy play dynamic has quickly become more of a lifestyle than just a kink. him drinking out of a bowl that says "simon" or "puppy" on it i could die.

the shame and guilt this man has drives me insaneeee. but that's why i love this au so much because we get to help him unlearn that shame lol. even though you're completely fine with his other deeply puppy behaviors, encouraging them selfishly, he's still like "wanting to piss on them is Too Far" so he's devastated when it happens on accident, his body betraying him one of the worst ways he could ever imagine :( cleaning him up is one of those rare moments when you have to be very direct with him. your voice is still soft because you knows he's scared and still in puppy space but every word is intentional and every touch is comforting until he's finally able to crawl back into your arms when he's all clean.

it's one of those things he still wants to do, but his feelings about it are just Too Much still. your words help a lot but he's still just stuck on it. so he fantasizes about covering you in his piss, his scent, in the mean time <3

[andimoon]

Hi! How are you? I really love your work and got excited when you posted that you’re taking requests 😊 Can I have Kai, angst and smut, no. 26. Been missing this guy lately 🥹🥹🥹 thanks so much! Hope you have a great day/night!🤍🤍🤍

Hello lovely anon! Thank you so much for the request! It turned out a little bit more fluffy than I was planning but I had a lot of fun writing this one!! I hope you enjoy! 😁💛

Word count: 2.5K

Warning: t/w: Kai Military Service, Graphic Tasteful Smut, 18+

Jongin/Kai X Reader

Established relationship au, LDR, switch King, mild Fem-Dom inclinations.

Angst/Smut

26. “Make Me”

It had been three months almost to the day. Three months since you last saw your boyfriend’s lovely face in person. Since you last saw the cute little half moons of his eyes and those pearly white teeth as he smiled at you. Since you heard that sweet laugh from his lips. Three months since you felt his warmth envelope you, wrapped in the soft sheets of your bed. Three fucking months. You knew why he left. Even if it wasn’t your culture, you understood the reasoning behind it, but that didn’t make the distance any easier. Even prioritizing work and returning to your own home didn’t make it easier.

The only thing keeping any semblance of sanity inside your brain were the late night calls. The small texts occasionally sent when he had the time to do so, the little I love you’s and I miss you’s, reminders of how you were on his mind. Your body was beyond the point of withdrawals, the desperation to see him, to hold him, it blinded you to everything and soon you found yourself on a plane, ready to see him.

Jongin would be excited to see you, right? If your distance was agony to you, it must’ve been the same for him. Still, you couldn’t help the bob of your leg, or the need to constantly twist and turn and adjust the ring on your finger.

“A ring? You’re not proposing are you? I’m not ready for that.” The memory of his laugh, his sparkling smile and the way his arm felt warm and heavy on your shoulders.

“It’s a promise ring,” he held your hand up in his, admiring the way the silver piece looked around your finger, “I’m promising that I’ll always be on your side, even if I can’t be there in person. You’ll always have a little part of me with you.” You recalled the excitement in his eyes and the way his words took your breath away and made your heart skip a beat. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Nini.”

You wished you would’ve gotten him something in return for the promise, but you never got the chance to. All too soon you needed to return home and he needed to serve. You would make up for that this time and show him how much you loved and missed him. Your resolve; a party for two. You were certain that if you called your boyfriend and told him you were in town he would drop everything, so you needed to prepare everything first. A few stops later and you had everything you needed to make your night a success. Groceries for a home cooked meal, check. Candles and bath bombs, check. Now you just needed a gift.

The path to his house was one you knew like the back of your hand. You’d practically lived there for the spring, but as you walked past the shops and vendors, a jewelry store on the corner caught your attention. You couldn’t buy him a ring. His fans might see it and get angry, but maybe you could give him something else. A promise could be made with anything. The staff greeted you as soon as you walked in and you bobbed your head in their direction before letting your eyes wander the glass casings of silver and gold and jewels.

Your ring was elegant but simple so you wanted to pick something that would match well with it. Couples jewelry. Your eyes lingered on a simple silver bracelet and you imagined how nice it would look against his skin. How he could wear it with anything and everything and always have a little part of you with him. It was perfect and you bought it without so much as a glance at the price tag. You did not need to know how deep a hole it would make in your wallet.

Maybe showing up unannounced at his house was a bad idea. What if he was home? You shot him a quick text and tried to disguise your question as innocently as possible.

‘Nini, where are you? What’re you doing?’

A few seconds later,

‘Almost done for the day.’

So he was still training, that bought you probably twenty minutes? It might not be enough to make everything you wanted before he arrived, but he’d have time to shower and change before spending the evening together. Just as quickly another text shot up.

‘I’ll call you when I’m out.’

‘I miss you.’

You smiled warmly at the message as you input the code to his front door and stepped into his home.

‘I can’t wait to hear your voice.’ You responded with a little heart. He would be so surprised to see you.

Time passed so quickly, you were rushing to get everything finished. His home was a mess as it usually was, so you picked up a few things, set up some mood music and lighting with the candles you purchased. Now it was a race against time to finish cooking before your boyfriend finished training. As if on cue, his face lit up your phone screen and the little device vibrated aggressively on the countertop. “Hellooo,” you hummed out as you answered the call, stirring the stew you were making.

“Babe,” he greeted, voice tired and an octave lower than usual. It gave you chills and you smiled, “I miss you,” he complained again and you could hear the pout in his voice. “I’m on my way home. What’re you doing? Working still?” It sounded like he was getting into a car as he spoke and you checked your watch. You probably had enough time to finish everything and greet him when he arrived.

“I’m cooking,” you responded honestly, “I was really craving a stew, so...” You heard him groan on the line and the dramatics made you laugh.

“Oh that sounds so good. I miss your cooking. Ah, my stomach is growling now. I should order something when I get home.” He would be so surprised when he saw you, the anticipation left you smiling and nibbling on your lower lip. You loved your calls with Jongin. You loved how you could talk about anything and his reactions were contagious and comforting. “I'm home now. I’ll call you later tonight, okay? I love you!”

The call ended and you rushed to the restroom to freshen up a bit before you were to greet your boyfriend. A nervous burn in your stomach and your heart was beating so hard you were sure it was trying to force its way through your rib cage. After a quick splash of cold water you returned to the living room, surely he was almost to his apartment. You charted the path from the garage to the elevator to his apartment in your mind, mentally tracking him like a gps. He should be opening the door any second.

Minutes passed. Maybe he was stopped by someone to talk. He was famous after all. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty.

Time passed as you sat in his living room, fiddling with your ring and staring at the door. Forty minutes, fifty. An hour. The more time passed, the more worried you became. What if something happened to him? In an instant the phone was in your hands and you were dialing. You waited and it kept ringing. Right when you were about to hang up, the speaker was filled with noise. Laughing, clanking, talking. “Hey! Sorry, I met up with the guys for dinner. Can I call you later?” He was laughing and the way his words slightly slurred told you he had been drinking.

“I thought you were home.” The seriousness in your voice caught his attention and you heard a muffled excuse and movement. Suddenly everything got quieter.

“Are you okay?”

“I thought you were home.” You reiterated with a sigh, dragging a hand down your face. This was your fault. You never told him you were there, it was in his own right to do what he wanted with his time off, but it still felt like you’d been stood up. “I’m at your house,” you said plainly, “I was cooking for you, Nini.”

The silence between you was deafening and you let out another soft sigh before forcing your voice to come out sweeter than you felt at the moment, “Its okay, I didn’t tell you so I’ll just put it in the fridge and—“

“I'm on my way.” The call ended with those four words and the sudden heaviness in your chest was uncomfortable. You were excited to see him, but felt bad for ruining his plans. Would he be upset? Would he feel sorry? You wanted this to be the perfect evening and it would’ve been if you had just told him. It would’ve still been a surprise if you had just told him.

The food was cold by the time he arrived. The door swung open aggressively and your gorgeous boyfriend stood at the entrance, catching his breath with his skin flushed and wide crazy eyes looking around until they touched yours. His uniform was inviting your eyes to linger but you couldn’t look away from the intensity with which he pinned you under. You stood from the couch as he marched over to you. He looked upset and you instantly dropped your gaze, ready to apologize for the unnecessary drama caused by your impatience, but before you could speak his arms wrapped around you so tightly, a hand on the back of your head pulling you into his chest and his face nuzzled in your neck. His warmth and the faint smell of alcohol overwhelmed you. He was here. He was touching you, holding you, and he was really here.

You both stayed like that for a while, “I’m sorry,” his voice muffled into your shoulder, “I’m glad you’re here.” It was so nice to be in his presence again. To have your boyfriend physically, tangibly there. The months of distance left you drained and deprived of his touch, and everywhere his skin touched yours tingled and blazed. Your heart raced as he lifted his head to meet your gaze and the silence told you he felt the same. It was mesmerizing the way his eyes dilated the more he studied your face. The food was already cold and sitting on the countertop in the kitchen. You felt his fingertips brush your hair back and the warmth of his palms as he cradled your jaw, his eyes lowering to your lips. It was hard to breathe. If you didn’t put the meal away soon, it would go bad. All be damned if the entire hour and a half of stress cooking went to waste.

“I—“ you gulped down the saliva that pooled on your tongue, the back of your throat felt dry. Jongin stood frozen in front of you, his gaze lifting comfortably to touch yours and his eyebrow twitched up questioningly. Fuck you needed some water. “I need to put away… the food.” You hesitated as he inhaled a deep calming breath and leaned away from you. His warmth was gone and you had to fight your hand as it reached for him. He was trying to hold himself together, you should do the same. “Did you eat already? I cut your night short, right? Are you hungry?”

His eyes snapped to yours and your rambling stopped. “Yeah, I’m hungry.” He said after a beat, quickly swooping you up over his shoulder and making a beeline for his bedroom.

“Wait! Nini, wait,” you said after the initial shock was gone and patted his back a few firm times, “Put me down. I have to put the food away first.” His eagerness was cute and it would be a lie if you said you didn’t enjoy being carried like you weighed nothing. Even your voice carried your smile. “Put me down, yeah?”

At first you thought he would listen to you, but he adjusted his grip on your hips, “Make me.” The way his voice dropped and the clear seduction in it dumbfounded you, even as he eased you into the soft mattress and leaned his weight over you. The clear smirk on his lips as he loomed over you, “Why? You can’t?” He leaned in closer until you felt his hot breath against your ear, “Do you feel it too?”

A shuddered gasp escaped you and the small sound he made told you that his ego was thoroughly stroked by his power over you. You wanted nothing more than for him to take you right then and there, but where would be the fun in giving in so easily? You admired the way his intensity faltered under your touch, as you eased your cold fingertips under that perfectly fitted uniform. The way his breathing hitched and his eyes shuttered closed the further down your fingertips traveled, the ethereal way his skin glowed with that perfect flush. God, how you wished you could capture this moment, it would fuel you for the next three months.

His warmth fit snugly in your hand and the breathless whine he let out left you dizzy and intoxicated. Your kiss was forceful and wanting, his symphony inviting your body to join and fuck how you wanted to, but first you wanted to watch him fall apart under your grasp. The ridges of his skin felt familiar under your fingertips and your mouth watered. You felt his hips buck against you, thrusting into your grip ever so slightly between rigid gasps and hisses. He looked like an angel, tasted like heaven on your tongue. His desperation matched yours as you rocked together. With his new uniform you could kiss and suck at his neck and collarbones, leaving flowers peppering on his skin, and he’d be able to cover most of them.

It was hard to get a good momentum going with his pants in the way and you huffed in slight annoyance against his lips, blindly searching for the pesky button that stopped you from accomplishing your goal. Teeth and plush lips, the delicious elixir that coated his tongue. With every brush and squeeze his hips rolled against your touch and his growls were like music to your ears.

He leaned back on his knees with a disgruntled sigh that desolated somewhere deep inside his chest, and your hand slipped out of its confines and rested on his thigh. His eyes were heavily lidded, shining onyx in dilation. The plump skin of his lips swollen and red from your insistent biting. What you would give to have them between your teeth once more. His chest heaved and he made a show out of unbuttoning the troublesome piece with that fucking smirk. You reached for him again but he collected your wrists and pinned them above your head, leaning into you with intensity that hitched your breathing and you inhaled sharply. “That’s enough of that. My turn.”

[dulcidyne]

Astarion x F! Redemption Dark Urge | Mature | Ch. 1 of ? | Words: 965

There is a name, the only one you can remember, but the feel of it is already nostalgic on your tongue. Sweet and sad, it is a half-faded keepsake… a name made for closeness, a name for someone’s daughter. There is love in it, you can feel that much—love and sunshine and bees humming in the late afternoon light while sunflowers sway in the breeze by the garden gate.   It is not a name for someone like you: a woman with teeth for thoughts. 

CW: Death, Mature themes If you could remember one thing, it should be this: they loved you very much, and it didn’t matter one bit. (Read on AO3)

Like the bard, it happens when the night is cold and still as corpses. You are in the kitchen standing over their bodies and the blood is already dry on the knife clutched in your tiny palms. The front of your cotton nightgown is stiff as old parchment, dusting rust-colored flecks onto the rough-hewn oak floorboards as you sway on unsteady feet.

Wisps of steam no longer rise from the earthenware rim of the mug on the kitchen table—lemon tea with a dollop of honey, to help you sleep through the nightmares.  They always brew it in this mug; your mug, you carved lopsided sunflowers into the clay before they fired it in the kiln. 

But now there will be no more lemon tea with a dollop of honey. No more shaping clay in the circle of their arms as the bees hum in the golden spill of late afternoon sunlight. No more bedtime stories or tickle fights full of breathless laughter or careful hands braiding plaits into your hair before pressing a cheek to the crown of your head over the neat part.

This gift you’ve given them—your final one—is the first with a price. It is not a hug or a kiss on the cheek or daisy chain bracelets, freely given and happily received. This is a gift that costs you everything. 

You are too young, much too young, to understand the full weight of ‘everything’. It is a concept that looms, vast and incomprehensible, over you like portentous thunderclouds and all you can do is snatch up tiny, dark fistfulls of understanding one at a time.  

The tea, the mug, the stories, the braids.

Only now do you begin to cry and these sobs are too big for you too. They shudder through you in violent spasms, wrenching your shoulders back, barrelling out of your chest so hard they knock against your fragile sternum like fists.

Already, you want to take it back. Ungive this gift, upay this price. You will do anything. You will go back into the cellar again, for days, for weeks. They can keep you there, in the dark, for as long as it takes, until the bad thing in your blood finally stiffles in the dust and impenetrable quiet. You won’t even cry, you won’t even say how much it scares you when they shut you up down there for your own good. You’ll say the prayers to Helm exactly like they taught you, bite your tongue when the bad thing makes you talk about plucking out their eyes, their hearts, their teeth. Bite it clean off if you have to.

Why didn’t you try harder? Why couldn’t you be better? 

It hurt them so much that you couldn’t. You saw their faces puffy with tears, their eyes rimmed red and swollen. You heard all their hushed conversations, the same mad ring-round-the-rosy circuits over and over and over again.

‘What do we do? She’s not getting better. I don’t know how long I can do this—I don’t know how much more of this I can take.’

‘You know what she is. We agreed we would try.’

‘I know.’ 

And then one of them would start to sob.

“Please,” you whisper now through your own sobs. But there’s no one to hear you. The bad thing in your blood is quiet, emanating rippling waves of elation through your veins, purring like a contented cat sunning in a windowsill. 

“Please!” you shriek and the current of your pulse tugs, shifting as your heart hammers in your heaving chest.

Beautiful it murmurs softly, reverently, between hitching thump-thumps, forcing your eyes back down to the only parents you have ever known.

And…it’s right. A grid of moonlight slants in from the kitchen window, rendering the scene in silver relief, like a holy relic. Your kitchen has transformed into a silent chapel and etched in pale glow, two serene faces rest in repose, wreathed in tangles of dark, like gifts on an altar. Their unblinking eyes are fixed above as if they are peering up into the dome of a cathedral invisible to you, whites round with shock so profound, it looks like awe.

It’s as if they are staring up at some exultant future. Whatever it holds, it looks peaceful. It looks like no more restless nights sobbing behind closed doors, no more faces lined with worry and fear, pinched and wan. 

A gift. The best you could have given them. The blessings of Bhaal: mercy.

You remember the burlap sack beside the well, mewling coming from inside. It took you what felt like ages to unknot the twine and release the kittens before the baker could come back and finish drowning them. 

“It’s not a kindness, what you did,” they explained to you after. “They won’t have enough to eat. No one will take care of them and they’ll only suffer.”

“Sometimes,” they’d said gently, “death is a mercy.”

Beautiful, beautiful mercy your contented blood says, soft as a sigh. 

See the smiles you’ve made for them. Look how happy you’ve made them. Happier than you’ve ever made them before. 

It’s right. They look more peaceful together in death, without you, than they ever were in life with you.  The tea, the mug, the stories, the braids.

Your sobs shut themselves up in your ribcage before bursting free into a shrill screech of rage that rattles the window panes. You seize the mug and hurl it to the floorboards; watch it shatter. 

They were good, they loved you, they deserve this. Deserve mercy and peace and blessings. Deserve to leave you here, all alone. 

And you deserve that too.

[bxtchesluvsos4]

how to fall in love with living again 🕊️

— a star hands production —

set your clothes out the night before. plan an outfit you adore, with the bracelets and necklaces you didn't have the reason or desire to wear before. treat yourself like you would a loved one, because you're someone too. wash your face, brush your teeth, and fix up your hair, you deserve care just as much as anyone else.

when you get up, make your bed. tuck in your stuffed animals and replace the almost out lightbulb.

take a refreshing shower and feel the temperature of the water dripping onto your skin. notice the color lot of the walls and the feeling of touching your skin. you are here, and you are safe.

make yourself breakfast. it doesn't matter if it's in a rush, spend a moment completely immersed into it, then get on your way.

be present in the moment. watch the people who you've gone to school with for the last decade all turn into more than just classmates. notice who looks down and who has just gotten their laugh back.

be the change you want to see in the world. compliment the people you have always wanted to, and compliment new people on things you've just noticed. open the door for people and let someone borrow a pencil. all it takes is one person to change thousands of lives. small or enormous, everything has a ripple.

compliment yourself. notice the beauty in your small actions, the way you laugh and the way you do your hair so perfectly it fits your face like a perfect frame. have empathy for little you, they were doing the best they could.

have empathy for others. we know so little of other lives, only what they let us find out, only what they show. but don't let people walk all over you, you deserve respect as much as they do understanding. a reason does not equal an excuse, and change is not impossible for anyone.

treat people kindly. smile at the cashier in the grocery store. try to go a whole day without saying a mean thing and hand out a few compliments. see how you feel by the end of the day.

do for others what you wish to be done for you. when you go with your friends to arcade, give your left over tickets to a little kid and watch as their face lights up while they jump around excitedly because they have enough for that prize they wanted.

fall asleep to the thought that any day may be your last. don't take this as a reason to not do anything at all but rather, if this was your last day, what's a little embarrassment as a price to pay to make someone's day. know that some day you will not wake up and use that as a reason to fall in love with your life, you only have so long to do so before it ends.

remember that no matter how many people love you, nobody can make you love yourself but you. loving others will not fill what only you can give yourself and relationships will not be the cure to what you lack within yourself. loving someone else, can change you for better, and make loving yourself easier, but you still have to put in the work to love you, even with someone by your side.

that is something only you can do for yourself, and by doing so you will slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with life.

[just-a-random-raccoon]

Day 29 Spite and day 30 Memories

Yeah, I did this. Yeah, I planned this since I saw dsaftober 2023 with the other drawing.

Yeah, I like making Davetrap angst, but can you blame me? Such good content and character shouldn't be wasted.

Fanfic under the cut!

Dave and Jack were going to Vegas and finally were free of their jobs, Dave in the way buy bracelets orange and purple that were ugly and in a lower price of all. In his words : "It's like our friendship Old Sport! Ugly on the outside, beautiful on the inside!"

Jack thinks he doesn't know what that meant. Or at least, how he interpreted it.

They were going for other way to the airport since it was more quick. They were passing through a field of orange and purple flowers, they were pretty. Dave got a camera with himself so he could take pictures recording everything that happened "I don't wanna forget my partner in crime" he said. But the two knew more than everybody there was the intention of having evidence. So if one fell down, the other would go with him.

Oh! And Dave's desire of having pictures of Old Sport in his wall to see them every night but that's not important.

In that Jack has an idea, what if he gives a little scare to Dave? Would be funny either way, he decided the perfect to commit his crime, waited patiently until Dave was distracted enough to don't see him coming.

The orange man ran towards the purple one, beginning with his plan. He jumped, wrapped his legs around the purple man's chest, and grabbed his face in a form of attack. His partner in crime noticed and started giggling and grabbed his arms. They were in a little fight and Dave took a picture but then tripped and they started falling on a little mountain of the field.

When they stopped falling, they were a laughing mess, the two of them laughed and saw each others eyes. "You funny bastard" Dave said between giggles trying to sound serious. Jack laughed more in response and smiled showing his missing teeth then proceeded to tickle the purple man learning some laughs and a "Please, don't do that, I love you!"

Later of a long while of calming down and not talking, just staring at the sky. They decided to continue their way to Vegas, the sky was blue and clear without a cloud, probably this would be a good day.

...

"Jack, please, don't do this. I love you"

[stesierra]

@autumnalwalker tagged me! I'm drawing from the Halfway Revenant. My words are venture, focus, whimsy, & vision.

I'll tag anyone who's interested with tree, cave and steel.

Venture

A feminine voice snapped, "Well, don't come to me when you get lonesome. I wouldn't take your money if it was the last-- Stop grabbing my arm! I'm leaving!"

And a short-haired woman barged out of the gate, storming away from the city so that bountiful portions of her anatomy bounced. And a great deal of anatomy was on display. She carried a large double-handled bag made of linen and reeds but wore nothing but sandals and a knee-length linen skirt wrapped about her hips. A dozen semi-precious necklaces fell just above her naked breasts. Some sort of powder whitened all her exposed skin except for her oval visage. A thick layer of cool gray makeup coated her face from hairline to chin. Kohl marked her eyes, and rouge reddened her lips and cheeks. That face looked like nothing natural, but it wasn't supposed to. The makeup and the rest of her outfit was an announcement of this woman's profession. Mindral had seen others like her in Shaneh, but only rarely, because she had seldom gone to the fifth layer, where the brothels were.

The painted woman said, "What are you running away for? Do you think I'm a some sort of criminal?" She wore a bracelet similar to Mindral's own, enchanted to ward off menstruation and pregnancy. At a guess, this woman made more use of the latter property.

"Of course not, areh," Mindral said.

The prostitute cocked her head. "Well, what did they throw you out for? Bad fashion sense? Dirty clothes? Carrying a crossbow in the streets?"

"I'm just arriving and have yet to venture into the city. But they threw you out? Why?"

The woman sniffed. "Oh, for prostitution."

"But prostitution is legal."

"Oh, yes, but soliciting in the central district isn't. Or being there in this outfit, at all." She sighed and tilted her head skyward. "I just wanted to snare a nice young man from a key family for the night. I would have shown him a good time. As if their high-priced courtesans who sit up in their fancy boudoirs are any better than me."

"I see," Mindral said. "And now what will you do?" A town might have enough work for a prostitute, but this one didn't look dressed to walk so far.

The woman shrugged. "Oh, I'll go back in tomorrow. That's the way it works. Walk the wrong street and sleep outside for one night. They tell us revenants will get us out here, but I'm not frightened." She smiled, baring perfect white teeth, and managed to look beautiful despite the makeup. "So who're you? I'm Nila Mehre, escort extraordinaire."

Focus

Mindral rolled over and vomited up liquefied eggs and pickled pork. The sour taste of stomach acid and the salt of tears filled her mouth, but the overwhelming stench of the putrid dead filled her nostrils. She threw up until nothing remained inside of her and kept heaving even after that. The sight of the dead kept her down on her hands and knees. Flies buzzed around her, trying to settle on her neck and arms. But she didn’t hold still, not like the corpses they’d laid their maggots in.

In the end, the chittering of the rats drove her upright. She wrapped her arms around herself and stumbled towards the door. The uneven floor tripped her, but she forced herself on faster. The urge to flee this rotten tomb whipped her on, despite her weak and twitchy muscles. She wasn’t spending another second here. If she was alive—and she was alive!— then she was escaping. Escaping, and figuring out a way to tear down Payar Cheref for the wrong he’d done her.

She made it out into the main corridor, and the stench died slightly. The passageway stretched both left and right, and for a horrible moment, she didn’t know which way to turn. If she chose wrong, she might wander lost in the caves forever.

And then a Nimina light turned on to her right, awoken by her movement. Nothing turned on to the left. It had to be a sign. She trudged towards the light, and more turned on ahead of her, illuminating dripping straws and shining flowstones. The cool air of the cave caressed her skin. Silence wrapped her, now that she’d left the scurrying and chirping of the rats behind. Only the thump of her footsteps convinced her she hadn’t gone deaf.

She touched her brow. Dried blood crusted her forehead and the sides of her face. The unbinding symbol was gouged into her forehead, the edges swollen and painful. It should have freed her soul. It had, for a little while, but it hadn’t lasted. What did that mean? Had the novice priest botched the funeral rites? Was the carving incorrect? Was other explanation could there be? She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t with the gods. Something had gone wrong.

She trudged through the caverns, past stinking rooms with fresh burials, and thirst dried her mouth and throat until her tongue felt like leather. There was water outside of the catacombs. All she had to do was reach it. Then she could drink her fill and wash away the blood. She focused on that small thing because she couldn’t figure out, just then, how to make Payar Cheref pay for trying to murder her.

Whimsy

Look, there's not a lot of whimsy in my stuff.

Vision

She didn't know what she expected outside of the garden that ringed the Nimina Palace, but it wasn't a club to the head. She caught a glimpse of three big men, one holding a cudgel, before her vision went black.

Tag list

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The Halfway Revenant

@acertainmoshke

[imbouttasue]

the "Tweeter Diary" side story but dolshi is ergi. Ta-da !! new erkenna AU. Huge novel spoilers.

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: Angel gave ergi an enchanted bracelet that can turn a person into someone they wish to be. Ergi - with his self-insecurities and feelings for Mckenna - the bracelet turned him to a woman. He'll only come back to his true form once he took the bracelet off.

Angel stole the bracelet from the Eastern Empire dean.

The bracelet is rose-gold in color, and it looks like three handcuffs glued together.

Of course, the dean is beyond pissed at getting his bracelet stolen, and demands other mages to capture the thief. Other empires and kingdoms are searching for the bracelet as well because there's a huge cash price.

Angel gave the bracelet to Ergi as a "gift." Ergi accepts it reluctantly only because he wants the scoundrel out of his sight.

Surprise - ergi's father ordered angel to get rid of him in exchange of a huge sum of money. Angel decides to give the bracelet to the duke, because if his appearance is changed, no one will recognize him. Worse case scenario, the dean will eliminate him for "stealing" his bracelet. angel's hands won't get dirty, and the guy will be dead. It's a win-win situation.

Ergi's father wants him dead because he hates him... that's it

"Patience, grand duke. Your duplicitous son will be the one to decide his fate."

After repeatedly getting manipulated by his father about his own self as a whole (wishing that he had a daughter instead, etc.), and also hearing about mckenna looking for a lady to marry from heinrey as a tipping point, he got tempted to wear the bracelet.

He wore it, and turned to a woman.

His pronouns will be your/mom

He went outside of the palace, knowing that with his new appearance, he's not the duke anymore.

Ergi touches the somehow long strands of his hair, frowning. He's wearing a coat to hide himself. He's currently on the pathway in his dukedom. It'll took a while before he'll make it to the entrance. And it's morning! Just perfect for him to be seen and caught by the guards.

Who would have thought that Angel is being serious, anyway?

He tried taking the bracelet off, but it bear no good. It's persistently intact on his wrist. He keeps on walking out the pathway, and on his dismay, a guard blocked him in his way.

"Halt. Who are you?" Great.

"I'm a maid." He replied. Wow, my voice sounds nice, actually.

"I've never seen you before." Another sentinel enters. They held his chin, and he turned away with a subtle snarl. "She has a pretty face, don't you think?"

"As pretty as the grand duke's son, mayhaps."

A chill runs down Ergi's spine as both guards bursts into laughter. "My, what humor you have! If only he has a more petite figure to match his face, I would ravish him every night."

"You are lusting over him? Foul!"

"Quit it! Aren't you the same?!" The scandalous guard cages Ergi with their arms, and he winced. He feels so small, like a prey. He doesn't like it.

"What do you say, we have some fun with this woman? She doesn't look like she could lift a finger."

Son of a - is this how the society treats a lady?

"You're disgusting." Ergi says with gritted teeth. "Let go of me."

They laughed at his display, and he feels himself getting suffocated. Just as his pride begins to crumble, he sees a glimmer of blue hair. A glimmer of hope.

He launches forward, attempting to get away from the guards. "McKenna!" He yells, and the knight turned to his direction. Ergi almost sighs in relief at seeing him, desperately wanted to get out of the situation he didn't expect to be put in - not until the confused knight turned back his heel. He walked away.

Like he doesn't know him.

... he doesn't recognize me.

The torturous tittering among the duchy's guards is so close to sending ergi to a killing spree. He's not only annoyed, his pride is wounded. The insufferable feelings he had for the knight made it worse.

The guards pinned him to the wall roughly. The impact took the air out of him. He closed his eyes to minimize the pain.

It feels like thorns being tied on his neck.

They touched his ears as if he's an object.

He can't breathe.

You're supposed to be a knight, birdbrain. I'm a damsel in distress. Why aren't you helping me?

Do you really never cared for me?

Suddenly, he heard a loud crack! and the air around him felt lighter. He opened his eyes little by little, and he saw the guards passed out on the ground. Breathless, he looked up; and saw the pair of black eyes he adored so much.

"You must be new in this household, miss," McKenna utters, but Ergi is so lost in the moment to care about anything he says. So this is how being saved feels like. "most working men here are - um, well, perverted. I hope you talk to the head maid soon about the safe routes you can take to avoid them."

Ergi choked out a cry.

McKenna flinched, startled. This ... woman just called him minutes ago - he doesn't even know her! - and is confusing him even more. Why is she crying?

By then, he noticed her eyes. It's pretty. A cute shade of green. Almost as deep-colored as an endless sea. It feels familiar.

"M-miss?"

"Birdbrain!" Ergi jumps at him, forgetting proper decorum - enveloping him in a hug. His tears fall. Overwhelmed by all the things his father said to him, the helplessness of knowing that he will lose this man so soon when he never even got the chance to hold him like this.

McKenna makes the noise of a dying bird. Now, their emotions in this moment are clashing. Ergi is emotional. In the eyes of the birdbrain however, what the maiden is doing doesn't make a single sense.

"It's me, birdbrain, please ... " her cries are enough to make any men waver, including him. But still!

He awkwardly pushes her away.

"I-I'm really sorry, you must have confused me for your lover or, haha, something."

He saw her tearful eyes when he looks down on her. No in snowballs name of hell. He would not succumb to some crocodile tears!

"It's me, Ergi. I could explain all of this ... please listen to me." He heard her say once more. His jaw is on the floor, almost literally.

[justplainwhump]

Not Products

Inspired by @gottawhump and many other wonderful BBU writers. My first piece diving deeper into the safehouse system.

This is set some years in the future of Angel's timeline, and far into her recovery. (Yet right before a certain... setback)

Content - BBU, debts, mafia structures, implied human trafficking, implied forced prostitution, threats, noncon touching, BBU romantic.

The building that Kayleigh stopped in front of was large, elegant modern structures of carefully twisted glass, to make it shimmer in the sunlight.

Orange letters were running down the side of the building, and Angel fought the nausea rising up from looking at them too long, she could read, she just needed to be strong. Coo- Coopers and - and Bard. Att-

She didn't go on trying to decipher the letters of the remaining words. Attorneys at Law. She could deduce those ones.

'Lawyers. Worst kind of people', a voice echoed in her head, followed by hearty laugh. 'But we need them, don't we?'

She didn't know whose voice it was, one of the ghosts that lived on inside her, and she'd learned to live with.

"Wow", Kayleigh whispered, putting her head back and squinting up at the sheer size of the building. "Still can't believe it. Wouldn't have thought that someone like Coopers finds an interest in helping us out."

"They wouldn't if it didn't support their business," Angel remarked dryly. "People like Coopers? They're just the ones who'd still happily own pets if it had remained en vogue."

"Angel," Kayleigh hissed. "I know you hate rich people. Your owner hurt you, I get that, I -"

"Do not go down this road with me ." Angel clenched her teeth. "This is not about me, or my past. I am your colleague, not your charge. This is about the future of our house, and the question, if we want someone like Coopers can help us. All I'm saying is: He has a price, and we'll need to decide if we want to pay it."

"Maybe he just has a conscience?"

"He works with organised crime. We're both aware of this, aren't we?"

"Well, we're criminals, too. You even more than I am. What we're doing is highly illegal. Doesn't make it wrong."

"Well, what Coopers and Bard have their fingers in, is pretty wrong often enough."

"Shut up." Anger flared up in Kayleigh's eyes. "I didn't bring you to talk me out of this. You couldn't - haven't seen our numbers, how bad it looks. We need him, or we'll have to shut down the safe house."

Angel hadn't seen the numbers indeed, she had tried once, but the headache had grown too bad. She had however seen the clumsy system Kayleigh used to track the safehouse's finances. She shouldn't judge her, for doing her best. But she did judge her for her rejection of any advice.

"Yeah," she said, somewhat of a bitter laugh on her lips. "You brought me because I look good in business attire."

She held Kayleigh's gaze, while she pinned a button to the lapel of her blazer. People, not products.

"Don't flash this to me like this." Kayleigh sighed. "I brought you because you know how to read a room."

"Soft skills," Angel intonated with a little sing song. "Yeah. That tracks." She stepped back and gestured at the door. "After you. Boss."

*

Philip Coopers was a tall man with warm eyes and a firm handshake. Auburn hair, a little longer than usually considered appropriate for a business like this, a tailored navy coloured suit, probably from London, expensive leather shoes - Angel couldn't tell how she knew all this, but the she did.

"My assistant, Mx Carter," he introduced the thin person next to him. "Nice to meet you again, Kayleigh, and this is your friend?"

"Colleague," Angel corrected. "Angelina Harris. I am in charge of the practical side of things at our... house."

She felt his gaze take him in, shortly rest on her hands as she shook his. There was a thin silver chain dangling around her wrist, a tiny bracelet, that could hide nothing underneath. And there wasn't anything to hide either. Her skin had healed, the scars from the tattoo removal so tiny they could only be seen when light caught them from a specific angle. Nothing but a faint memory.

"Well, it's a pleasure." He invited them to sit at a conference table set up in his impressive office. "I am looking forward to support you, and to do my part to help you continuing your important work."

Angel bit her tongue to hold back a sarcastic return. This was Kayleigh's turf. Even though it sometimes felt like her own.

"We've talked about the general idea, let's just nail down the specifics." He gestured at his assistant, who took over, and Angel listened - rates, book keeping, conditions, existing and future contacts that needed to be covered.

It was all too easy. Too high amounts, too few conditions. Too good to be true, not from a man like this, running a business like his.

"Oh, and before I forget", he said, and Angel's gaze perked up. He'd never forget anything, his behaviour had made that abundantly clear. This was going to be the thing she'd been waiting for. "We'd like to employ the services of a psychological consultant. To make sure the... refugees are treated according to their needs."

"They are," Angel said. "We're making sure of that."

"That's a little different," Coopers insisted with a condescending little smile. "We would want them to meet the consultant right upon arrival, so they can determine which place is best equipped for them."

Angel frowned. "Are there more safehouses that you support?"

The assistant tilted their head. "*Places*," they said. "Safe spaces."

"And what's the criteria?"

"For the safehouses?"

"No. For the people, contacting *us*, arriving at our doorstep, to be let in or turned down."

"They're not turned down, Ms Harris. On the contrary. They're going to be cared for."

"So. Your only condition for funding us is to be allowed to psychologically screen runaways and then determine whether they go to us or somewhere else." She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Angel," Kayleigh mumbled. "Calm down."

She didn't intent to. "Running a safehouse is expensive. Food, rent, medical bills, therapies, compensations for the volunteers."

"It is."

"What's your gain?"

"Doing the right thing is not enough?"

"No." Angel shook her head. "Not from you. You know what I think? Prices for a well trained guard dog from WRU start at about 250k, as far as I know. Romantics, similar. Can be much more, depending on specifics. Seven figures, even." She leaned in. "Is that your return? Acquisition for your preferred clients? Private security? Prostitution?"

"Interesting." His mouth twisted into a smile. "You've looked into the more hidden corners of our client list."

She shrugged. "I like to be thorough." She still heard the monotonous voice of the screen reader. Even set high speed, it had cost her many sleepless nights finding the names she'd been looking for.

"I see." He smirked. "But let me ask you. What if these... wild theories were right? Worst case scenario. You'd still run a safe house, one that as I understand it has absolutely no funds otherwise. One that Kayleigh here has put her college fund into, and bet her grandmother's house on."

Metal scrapped on wood when Kayleigh pushed her chair back, pale and trembling. "I... That's..." She shook her head, gaze to the floor, almost feverish in her movements as she pressed her hand to her mouth. "I... need to use the washroom, please?"

Upon their boss' gesture, the assistant jumped to their feet and opened the door. "Of course, Miss. I'll show you the way."

Coopers looked past the two of them, before he turned back to Angel.

"Sacrifices," he said, all but savoring the word. "That's what keeps your system running. That's what saves dozens of runaways, who already found shelter in your place, who you managed to get to safety and into a fulfilling life. Your friend sacrificed all she had for the case. And you refuse to reroute a single one of these... sluts, to a place that suits them better?" Carefully embedded between well chosen words, the slur cut into her like a hidden blade.

"Yes," she whispered. Her throat was constricted all of a sudden.

"What is your problem, Ms Harris? We give them shelter, warmth, food, company - they're having each other there, something I hear some of them have missed desperately in their past lives." He cocked his head as he said it, with a soft smile, that mocked understanding and was everything but. These has been her own words once, she herself had talked like that about her past, feeling constantly alone and desperate for company. He couldn't possibly know, she told herself. She was here with Kayleigh, with her colleague, she was an activist with a spotless wrist and a normal past. And she wouldn't let him get through with this.

She raised her chin decidedly. "You want to sell them out. Abuse their conditioning, instead of helping them overcome it."

"Ah," he tutted. "Shush. Selling them out, that's a strong word. They work for a living, like the safehouse system prepares everyone for. Like normal people do. According to their specific... qualifications."

She took a breath, trying to calm her racing heart, setting out to speak, but he talked over her. "Imagine one of them trying to do my job." He reached for a one of the documents scattered over his desk and held it up, presenting it to her. Little letters danced over the paper, twisting and turning, a garbled mess in front of her eyes, all but mocking her. It was sickening. She averted her gaze, and he chuckled. "Some people are made to think, Angelina. To make decisions, to manage large businesses, to read and understand things, you know. Others, however..." He waited until she looked up, holding her gaze for another moment. She couldn't breathe. "Others," he went on, "are simply made to fuck."

She stumbled to her feet, shaking her head. Her elegant blouse was too tight, the collar tightening around her neck. "We're not," she struggled to say, fighting the voices in her head, Handler Nguyen, Handler Parker, Sir, telling her the same words. "We... They, they're not, nobody is."

The man was grinning now, and it took her too long to realize. She'd played right into his hand. "Oh, Angelina. You're making this about yourself, aren't you? How come you're relating so hard, hm?" He closed in, the sort of casual, measured steps that she knew should make her run, but they made her freeze instead. "Tell me," he whispered, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear. His touch was soft, almost gentle, his hand warm on her skin, and she knew how she should react, and she knew she shouldn't. "Tell me, Angel, what were you made for?"

[xaeyrnofnbe]

something something little design elements i think would be cool for the riptide pirates

(a mix of ideas i think would be cool but also headcanons a little bit)

chip

something connecting him to lizzie. like a friendship bracelet from when they were kids or something like that. or better yet, maybe they made friendship bracelets together out of thread or whatever but over time they’ve broken and now chip like braided his into his hair. (ugh and maybe my time being into the dsmp has made me a sucker for braids being used as a symbol of family. what about it)

actually building off of that maybe the co-captains have matching braids in their hair. what then.

maybe some facial piercings idk. he strikes me as a face piercing kinda guy

something that calls back to his time with reuben price. idk what but i can’t get the idea out of my head of there being SOMETHING

scar across his eyebrow once again because it just fits his vibe i think

jay

scar across her nosebridge. i have no idea why or where it would have come from but i can’t picture her without it

doesn’t really hold up after the new design change but. i liked to imagine after Not Ferin Well that her jacket was all scorched and blackened in some areas. like it was just all burnt-looking.

gillion

yeah im sticking by my idea. riptide co-captains matching braids in their hair. family moment.

gill would have the most accessories in his hair though. and his is the most maintained-looking out of the three. it’s also full of braids and shells and colorful things.

his eye color is like. the deepest purest blue you could imagine. like it’s almost bad how blue his eyes are. not even sky blue or turquoise no no no they’re like almost indigo. a deep dark and criminally-oversaturated blue that turns a sort of electric teal when he’s using his powers. of just for dramatic effect.

sharklike teeth

the way i picture his anatomy is like. the fish people from the movie luca. you know the one. yeah he’s got scales n fins and a tail.