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galene-gothic · 3 days ago

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𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ?

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ PAID SERVICES PATREON

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ TIP JAR ಿৎ

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

Your future spouse might be older than you or even if that’s not the case, they’re going to perceive you to have a really young spirit. They’re going to see you as someone who’s been through devastating things and has either never let them break you or has recovered from it, and is unwilling to let things like this have bearing on you ever again. You’re going to help them recover from major pain with the way you’ll act. You seem to be one of those people who is so mature, grounded, self assured and strong that you are comfortable acting, and being childish. Even if you’re not like this yet, you will be at that time. You will open up to them and tell them something about a devastating time in your life when you were at the rock bottom and couldn’t find it in you to get up, and keep going and had sort of given up because you couldn’t feel passionate about anything, and how it took you so much time, energy, effort and healing to be able to find your zest for life again so you’re unwilling to let it slip from you ever again. You’re going to talk childishly and might speak in a loud manner or even if you don’t, you’ll act like a kid in some capacity - jumping around, pouting, feeling and expressing excitement wholeheartedly, trying to make spontaneous plans made on excitement, they’re going to find all of it really adorable. One thing that you’ll have learned by then is that the best way to resolve the turmoil present in the head and heart is by physically trying to live a good, happy, and passionate life so whenever you’re struggling or they’re doing so, you’re going to pick up a new hobby, encourage them to do so, will suddenly prioritise health more, might go on more walks or might want to travel. They’re going to see you as someone who prioritises long term connections especially romantically and is truly present in the connection i.e. your past has no bearing on you besides for growth purposes. Someone who doesn’t care about anything that came before a real, reliable, long term relationship. They’re going to see you as a strategic person who knows how to maintain the loveliness of romance by not mentioning exes and more younger love or even thinking about them. They’re going to see you as someone who’s hurt a lot and recovered, and sees this ‘young love’ matter as having been very blindsiding for you. They’re going to see a certain duality in you. Like, they’ll see you as someone very pure hearted and affectionate who believes the best in people, and is sort of naive almost but also, as someone who is extremely aware of manipulation and is always thinking about what someone might be hiding. They’ll think that you’ve been scorned so bad and in unexpected ways that turned your world upside down so even though you’re pure hearted, you’re aware of how naive you have a tendency to be and also that there’s always more than meets the eye, and so you are always trying to beware of what is happening and can happen.

They’re going to see you as someone who wants to live and do so well. You’re going to be unwilling to let life slip away and regret it when you’re in your deathbed so you’re going to try to take grounded action on everything in life. They’re going to see you as a passionate and prideful person who is also grounded, and mature but the latter is going to be more internal and as someone who is pure hearted but sometimes ends up acting really childish, and saying mean things to some people who disrespect you and regrets it because you are able to see when you’re wrong even if you are unable to do so when you’re right. “They deserved it but I should have acted better than that.” They’re going to think that the way you act is justified but that you’re so pure hearted and want to act out with love, and consideration towards everyone so you tend to feel bad when such situations come about. They’re going to see you as someone who is so ambitious and wants to be, and do so much that you are never satisfied and you know, time is very limited for all of it to come true so even if unrealistic, you try to do it all, and be it all. They’re going to see that you feel guilty if you’re unable to work for even one day for whatever reason. Someone who is not willing and feels like cannot afford to lose even a day or two. They’re going to admire your ambitions and willingness to work for them. You’re someone who despite trying, are not taken seriously by many people and are heavily underestimated, and you yourself may feel like you’re not being able to move past passion to actual skills but they’re going to admire the way you try even when you’re not seeing any or much progress. They’ll see you being on the verge of giving up because maybe someone else is given the position that you toiled day and night for, and truly putting everything on the line for your ambition and future despite some sort of personal struggle, and they’re going to admire you so much. You know what energy this is giving me? A student studying late at night while their parents are undergoing an unexpected divorce and they’re having to move homes over, and over again and go for court hearings or a student, having to go to the hospital and look after their sick mother while they’re being urged to bring their school fees as soon as possible while their boards are right around the corner, or an idol trainee practicing even when they’re sick to be picked for the debut line of a new group. They’re going to admire you so much and will think that you know yourself, and have grown to be so mature, grounded, nurturing and wise because of how much you’ve undergone in pursuit of your goals, and ambitions. They’re also going to see you as someone who prioritises self care and avoids breaking, and giving up. This reading has me in awe of you, I cannot even begin to imagine how much they’re going to admire and be in awe of you. I hope that the reading resonated and that you enjoyed it thoroughly. Thank you so much for being here. Much love and take care 💕.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

Your future spouse is going to see you as someone who’s so possessive that it causes you anxiety and stress. Also, someone resentful who will hold onto issues and will not let them get away with anything. You know that meme on Instagram. “What my girlfriend brings up during an argument” and the audio goes something like “let’s go back to 50 million years ago.” That’s the energy that this is giving. Also, someone who is more internally resentful than communicatively so causing for the issue to sort of linger. They’re going to see you as a more stoic person who tries to deal with things by self regulating but is not exactly the best at it because of your unforgetful and resentful nature. I JUST HEARD “don’t do things that I’d have to forgive you for then.” OH MY GOD, you’re not even going to be apologetic about it. They’re going to see you as a very loving but sort of insecure person at heart but also, someone honest. Some of you might have issues with your mother or your mother might be absent literally, if not, there are going to be wounds around nurturing causing for you to be a bit stingy and act out in immature, and confusing ways initially and won’t be healthy in order to develop a long term relationship. They’re going to see you as someone honest who will accept that they need to be nurtured and loved in a more parently manner, and are possessive. Also, someone stubborn and unwilling to change. You’re going to be the type to close off and distance yourself but will not be willing to change this side of yourself or so they’ll think. They’re going to think that you have a lot of fears, insecurities and worries internally that feel extremely real to you, making you feel weak but that you try to work on them on your own, suppressing them, and not accepting that it comes from a place of insecurity causing you to feel resentful. However, they’ll think that you’re highly passionate and spontaneously so. You’ll often initiate intimacy by yourself with them because you’ll desire them a lot. They’re going to see you as a very sexual person who values excitement, sex, passion but has dealt with and moved on from someone immature, confusing who you poured onto, and held onto tightly, loving them endlessly just to realise that you’ve been manipulated and used, and that has caused you to still have some baggage so you simply want a loyal and devoted protector, and provider and nothing less so you tend to feel really scared when they do something that doesn’t align with your needs, and desires. They’re also going to think that you’re someone who resolves things in bed and finds reassurance, and optimism of the connection while having sex and during the afterglow of it. They’re going to be in awe of your sex drive and the passionate way in which you love. When people say that they’d do anything for their lover, they usually don’t mean literally but you’re actually going to be willing to do anything for them.

You’re going to want to provide for the connection because you’ll love them and it won’t be just a thought in your head, you’re actually going to work for it, fueled by your love and passion for them. Not just them actually, you’re going to be this way with your friends, family, anyone that you love. They’re going to admire you for how much you tend to feel and act on that feeling. “Love moves people” will stand true in your case, love will move you and so you’ll do things, and they’ll see you do so. They’re also going to see you as someone who values financial stability and is constantly thinking about money, saving it, investing, so on and so forth. They’re going to see you as someone that they have to take care of or someone who tries to take care of them, possibly both in different ways? ‘Too sweet’ by Hozier is coming through. One of you might try to push the other towards a more healthy lifestyle. I feel like it’s going to be them doing so because you seem to be more spontaneous and passion driven. They’re not going to be a useless, deadbeat bum just because you want to provide for those you love, they’re in fact, going to want to do so for you as well. They might see you on your phone and urge you to go to sleep, they might wake you up by opening the curtains blinding you with the bright sun (unless you’re in UK or something xD), so on and so forth. There are going to be times when you’ll hurt them by being too possessive and closed off, they’re going to see you as being very regretful, and genuinely feeling guilty during such moments. You’re going to try to initiate touching of all sorts when you’re going through such times because physical touch including and not including sex both seem to be really important to you. The relationship is going to be very passionate, too passionate, causing overwhelm but you’re not going to let go of each other. They’re going to be obsessed with you, being all sweet to you, flirting with you, putting up with your tantrums or internal brewing of one and will know that you feel really desired, and loved by them even if you overwhelm and trouble them on purpose at times. Sex seems to be really important in your relationship, you’re going to take care of yourself to make yourself as desirable for them as possible and the experience as pleasing for them as you can. You’re going to give them a lot of sleepless nights because you’ll cause them a lot of excitement and obviously because you’ll love sucking, fucking, and biting. I wouldn’t be surprised if the connection progresses fast or if it’s overwhelmingly passionate right off the bat. You’re going to desire each other deeply and overwhelmingly. You won’t have to worry about passion and sexual chemistry here. I hope that the reading resonated and that you enjoyed it thoroughly. Thank you so much for being here. Much love and take care 💕.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

Your future spouse is going to see you as someone who has undergone major pain and hurt in the past, and so is really strict with themself and others, to the point of being critical but is still their best friend. They’re not going to be able to figure you out because there will be times when you’re really harsh and rude but they’ll know you, and they’ll know just how much you care about people as a whole, people who you do not even share any personal belonging with so they’re going to think that you’re simply deeply misunderstood whenever people dislike you. You’re so beautifully complicated and confusing. You’re not dislikable actually, you’re not even that assertive but when you are, you are extremely so. Due to how soft and unassertive you seem, people might try to walk all over at times, and usually you will not try to assert yourself but will peacefully try to move past the situation even if it hurts you, but sometimes, you will have enough and will stand up for yourself even if it’s imperfect or harsh, and so they’re going to think that you’re simply just misunderstood. They’re going to see you as someone who might offend people with words and even just your energy a lot but is actually really pure hearted, and cooperative. They’re going to see you as someone humble who values learning and is a lifelong student. You’re going to engage in discussions with them in which you’re going to teach them a lot and you’ll also talk about low moments, and how you found hope, what you learned from such situations and they’re going to admire that about you. You’re going to talk a lot about helping and teaching those younger, and less fortunate than you because you’ll have attained a lot of wisdom and will have been instilled with values by people who were humble, and extended kindness towards you without conditions. They’re going to see you as someone who draws out comfort from what you learn and how you affect others positively even if you’re criticised, and disliked by others. They’re going to think that you are very badass and do not really care as long as you’re watching yourself 😭. However, they will also think that you’re incredibly hard on yourself. They’re going to think that you’re made of love, someone who is able to love and heal through it. Whenever you’ll be struggling in life, you’ll extend love to others, that will be your mode of healing and you won’t do it from a place of inferiority causing for this energy to remain benevolent.

They’re going to think that you have zero tolerance for bullshit and can, and will leave. Something about you being very sharp, blunt and unapologetically so even if it hurts others but being very hard on yourself, and never wanting to be a bitch is coming through. However, you’re also not going to mind having to be a bitch, like you won’t be scared or apologetic about this side of you. If this is your pile, you probably get what I’m talking about. They’re going to perceive you to be extremely soft at heart and someone who is so giving, and loving that you can be taken advantage of. They’re going to see you as being very dreamy and pure, almost naive but they’re also going to think that you are strict because in the past, you have been scorned and taken advantage of, and so you always wonder if you are being too naive in certain situations even if that’s not the case. They’re going to think that you are imaginative and have various sides to you. Honestly, they’re not going to be too sure about who you are either because you possess and express so many different sides of you. They’re going to think that despite your great imagination and natural tendency to daydream a bit, you do not like to idealise, and so you look before you leap into idealising and giving mental energy to things, people, and situations. They’re going to think that you’re vulnerable with them and show a very pure side of yourself to them, one in which you bare yourself to them, and they’re going to love how real you are because that’s what’s going to make you so surreal. They’re going to think that you are a living contradiction but a beautiful one. Like, you can be very mean and harsh but choose to peacefully walk away without asserting yourself most of the times, and that you’re strict and hard on yourself, and others but understand that everyone is learning just like you are and have grace for them, and try to affect them positively and help them but you are also wise enough to know that life is an illusion so you are not willing to jump into things, and idealise situations despite your natural tendency to daydream and innocently help, and interact with people. Also, that you’re the most difficult easy person to work with. You’re going to teach them a lot about faith because you’ll have a lot of it yourself because of the love you give out and the strict standards you have for yourself, and your life. Very unapologetic yet humble. They’re going to adore you though. I hope that the reading resonated and that you enjoyed it thoroughly. Thank you so much for being here. Much love and take care 💕.

#pac reading #pick a card #intuitive readings #pac #tarot pac #tarot pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a deck #paid readings #tarotblr

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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HIII!!! ok i was on tiktok this morning and there’s this prank where people pretend to give bad advice in front of their partners

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT6mxBoAS/

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT6mxkMv4/

like i was laughing so hard HAHAH there’s so many and they’re so funny

i was wondering if you could do reader pretending to give bad advice in front of the marauders? just one or all of them totally up to you!!! like reader giving bad medical advice in front of emt!marauders or giving bad fire advice in front of firefighter marauders

anyway you’re one of my comfort authors and i love you and your work so much 💕💕💕 thank youuu

Thank you for requesting angel! I forget about firefighter james sometimes I need to reconnect with him I think

firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 614 words

“Hello?”

James hardly glances over from the football match on television. With a bag of crisps on the coffee table in front of him and you reading on the other end of the couch—your feet in his lap, because he can’t go a whole football match without some sort of contact—he’s happy as a clam.

“Oh,” you say into your phone. “Ugh, sorry. How long has it been going off for?”

Still nothing from James. You watch him surreptitiously from the corner of your eye, amping up the dramatics.

“Well do you, like, smell smoke or anything? If not, you can probably just take the batteries out.”

It’s a struggle to keep an unaffected front when James glances at you. “Who’s that?” he asks.

You wave a hand. “My roommate. Sorry, I’ll get off in a minute. Yeah,” you say into the dead speaker, “remember where we keep the screwdriver? Just take them out.”

“Take batteries out of what?”

“It’s—our detector thing,” you tell him breezily, pretending to listen into the phone. “No, it should stop beeping if you take them out. That’s all you have to do.”

“The smoke detector?”

“Sorry, hold on, my boyfriend’s asking something.” You cover the speaker and level James with an unimpressed look. (You should start writing your speech for the Academy Awards, really.) “We already took our smoke detector off, so it’s not that. It’s some other one.”

“You took it—what?” James’ grip on your foot tightens. “Could it be a carbon monoxide detector?”

“Maybe.” You shrug, raising your phone to your ear again. “Has it stopped? Oh. Then, I don’t know, just put it in the freezer or something.”

James sits up. “Let me talk to her.”

“James, it’s fine. Clearly the machine’s just glitching.”

“It might not be—tell her to go outside.” He raises his voice in the direction of your phone. “Go outside and call the fire department.”

A little giggle escapes you. You try to play it off like you find James silly. “That’s so dramatic.”

“There could be a leak, sweetheart! Let me talk to her.”

“No!” You hold your phone out behind you when James reaches for it, stretching over the arm of the couch. You’re laughing now. “It’s my apartment, let me handle it.”

“You want your apartment to explode?”

“It’s not going to explode.”

“Baby, carbon monoxide is—” James stops. You try to neaten up your expression, but you must look too gleeful, because his eyes narrow. “Oh.”

You laugh nervously. “Oh?”

“You’re fucking with me.” He sits back. “Is your roommate really on the phone?”

It’s useless to lie now. Your smile would give you away, and anyway James’ grip on your foot is beginning to feel threatening. “No. But I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?”

James shakes his head, smiling. You’d almost say he looks proud. “I was about to call the fire department myself.”

“Aren’t you the fire department?” you tease.

You gasp when a big thumb pushes into a ticklish spot in your arch. “Carbon monoxide poisoning is serious business, you know,” he says, doe brown eyes anything but intimidating behind the magnifying lenses of his glasses. “Please tell me you don’t actually take the batteries out of your detectors.”

You feign a reluctant sigh. “No, we don’t.”

“Or put them into freezers to keep them quiet?”

“Well, that was just once.”

He squeezes your foot, provoking a stream of frenetic giggles. “Joking! We don’t.”

James grins smugly and directs his attention back to the telly. “You know what happens when you try to prank a prankster?” he asks idly.

A nervous frisson goes down your spine. “What?”

“Guess you’ll find out.”

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defeatofcupid · 2 days ago

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In the Quiet, You

summary: He’s been yours all along. It just takes Clark Kent six tries to say it out loud.

pairing: clark kent x reader

tags: childhood friends to lovers, smallville, slow burn, mutual pining, domestic fluff, eventual relationship, romance, soft! clark kent, love confessions, 5 almosts + 1 forever, arguments, slight angst, clark kent is utterly in love with you pt. 4, can be considered gn! reader, happy ending, loverboy clark kent, second person pov, no use of y/n

word count: 4.8k (not yet proofread)

♡…

The first time Clark almost says it, you’re both thirteen.

It’s summer in Smallville, the kind that stretches golden across the fields, the kind that smells faintly of cut grass and Ma Kent’s pies cooling on the windowsill. The cicadas sing their endless tune, the sky above painted that honey-thick light that makes everything feel like it might last forever.

You’re sitting on the Kents’ porch swing with a glass of lemonade sweating in your hands. The swing creaks softly with each sway, chains rattling like a lullaby you’ve grown up hearing. Clark is beside you, his long legs already too big for the swing, knees bumping awkwardly against yours every time he shifts. He still hasn’t figured out how to fold himself into his growing body, all elbows and shoulders and too-big hands, though he tries to pretend he isn’t bothered by it.

He’s got one of Pa Kent’s old comic books propped open in his lap, the pages yellowed and soft at the corners. He’s pretending to be invested in the story, pretending not to notice that you’ve leaned just a little too close so you can peek over his shoulder.

“Y’know, you hog all the good parts,” you tease, nudging him with your elbow.

Clark glances up at you, then back at the comic, but the corner of his mouth curls anyway. That boyish grin spreads slow across his face, showing the tiny gap in his front teeth. It’s the same grin that always undoes you, the one that makes your heart do a strange flip you don’t have the name for yet.

“You wouldn’t understand it anyway,” he says, feigning seriousness as his thumb drags over the panel of a spaceship mid-flight. “Too many aliens.”

“Excuse me,” you huff, straightening up with mock indignation. “I’ve seen Star Wars three times. I think that makes me a certified alien expert!”

He snorts. “You fell asleep halfway through the last one.”

“Because you wouldn’t stop talking over the movie,” you fire back.

“I was explaining things,” he argues, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger. They’re a little crooked, smudged from fingerprints, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You were spoiling it,” you correct, sticking your tongue out at him.

Clark laughs, a real laugh—easy and warm, chest-deep, the kind of laugh that makes the air around you feel brighter. His shoulders shake, and for a moment you’re both just kids again, safe and unbothered by the world outside of Smallville’s borders.

He’s about to say something else, you can tell—his lips part, his breath catches in his chest, and his eyes flick to you with a softness you don’t quite recognize yet. There’s a beat where everything stills, the cicadas quiet, the swing pausing at its peak, and it feels like something important is about to happen.

But then Ma’s voice calls from inside the house, warm and lifting, asking if you two want another pitcher of lemonade. Clark shuts his mouth quickly, his jaw snapping closed like he’s swallowed down a secret.

You catch it, though—the shape his lips make around words that don’t come out. I love— and then nothing.

Instead, he clears his throat, pretending to be casual, and asks, “Want another glass? It’s getting warm.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back into the swing with a sigh, but your smile lingers at the edges of your mouth. You don’t know what he almost said, what he tucked away like it was too precious to share.

But he does.

He’ll always know.

♡♡…

The second time Clark almost says it, you’re both sixteen.

You hadn’t planned on going to the school dance.

The gym always smelled like a strange mix of sweat and floor wax, the music too loud, vibrating through the floor and into your chest, and the decorations were cheap, crepe paper streamers sagging before the night was even halfway over.

The punch was over-sweetened, the kind you could practically taste clinging to your tongue in sticky aftertastes, and the lights flickered in a way that made everything look a little surreal, like you’d stepped into someone else’s world.

It seemed like the kind of event other kids looked forward to for weeks—the ones who knew how to glide across the floor in rented tuxes and glittery dresses, who were excited for corsages and disco balls and awkward slow dances.

Not you.

Not until Clark showed up at your front door.

He looked… nervous. Taller than you remembered, lanky in the way teenagers suddenly grow without warning, and his suit looked like it had been borrowed from some distant uncle—a little too big in the shoulders, sleeves hitting his wrists just wrong. The tie he wore was crooked, despite Ma Kent fussing over him three times before he left. And his hair—usually fluffy and sun-kissed from Smallville summers—was slicked down with so much gel it seemed almost shiny, darker in the gym light.

In his hand was a single flower, not a store-bought rose or anything pretentious, but one of Ma’s sunflowers from the garden, wrapped in simple tissue paper. It leaned slightly to one side, bright and cheerful, like it had its own small heartbeat, and somehow it made your chest ache with a feeling you couldn’t name.

“Uh…” he cleared his throat, shoving a hand through his hair, fingers trembling slightly. “I figured… maybe we could go. Together. You know. As friends.”

“As friends,” you repeated, though your stomach buzzed with a strange heat, like cicadas had taken up residence inside you. The words sounded silly on your lips, inadequate somehow, but you didn’t know how else to say them.

The gym was exactly as terrible as you expected.

Streamers hung droopy from the rafters, some already ripped and curling, balloons deflated and sagging into corners. The DJ was skipping songs at random, switching from slow jams to something frantic without warning, and the punch bowl, of course, was empty within five minutes.

Clark looked awkward beyond belief—tugging at his sleeves, blinking rapidly, stepping back a fraction every time someone brushed too close. And yet, he stayed beside you, his presence a steady gravitational pull that had always made you feel safe. That had never once let you feel alone in a crowd. He walked in rhythm with you, careful not to step on your toes, yet somehow maintaining the subtle closeness that always defined the two of you.

Then the slow song started, a syrupy, old-fashioned thing the DJ must’ve dug out from decades ago. Clark’s eyes widened behind his glasses, and you felt that little tug in your chest—the way he always seemed to hesitate when something important might slip.

He held out his hand, palm open, a little clammy, but warm and steady. It was the same hand that had pulled you out of creek beds when you slipped, the same hand that steadied the flashlight when you explored barns you weren’t supposed to. You slipped your hand into his, feeling the reassurance in his grip, the weight of all the unspoken history between you.

“You don’t have to,” you teased, though your voice came out softer than intended.

“I want to,” he said simply, looking at you like the words themselves were fragile treasures, like even saying them aloud might break the magic.

And that was that.

You let him pull you into the crowd, bodies swaying in an awkward shuffle, neither of you good dancers, but it didn’t matter. His free hand hovered at your waist for a long beat before resting there, careful and tentative, as if one wrong move might shatter everything between you.

Your other hand found his shoulder, and for the first time, you noticed just how much taller he’d gotten, how broad, how… everything about him suddenly seemed bigger, more present, more real than you’d ever noticed.

Clark’s grin was soft, shy, and completely yours. The familiar warmth of it sent a flutter through your chest, one you couldn’t ignore. He leaned in, ever so slightly, just close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting against your temple. His lips parted, voice caught somewhere in his throat between thought and speech.

“You know, I…”

Your heart raced. Your hand gripped his shoulder tighter, trying to hold steady.

“I think…” His gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed, the words hovering at the precipice of everything he’d ever wanted to say. “I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

It wasn’t what he meant. You could see it in the tightening of his jaw, the way his smile faltered the instant the words left him, like he had betrayed himself. But the lights gleamed off his glasses, the music swelled, and you let it be.

You smiled, soft and shaky, and whispered, “You too, Smallville.”

And Clark held you like maybe that was enough.

For now.

♡♡♡…

The third time Clark almost says it, you’re both grown.

Metropolis is nothing like Smallville. The city hums day and night, lights bouncing off glass towers, streets thrumming with life, car horns and distant sirens blending into a constant urban symphony.

It’s exhilarating and exhausting all at once, a world that never pauses, and sometimes it feels like it’ll swallow you whole if you don’t carve out a corner just for yourself.

For you, that corner is the Daily Planet newsroom—loud, chaotic, relentless, and ironically comforting. And Clark… he’s that corner too. Even in the middle of all the madness, he’s a steady presence, grounding and familiar, a thread tying you back to something simpler and safe, even in a city that never stops moving.

Tonight, the newsroom is quiet.

Most of the staff have gone home hours ago, leaving just you and Clark. Desks face each other across a narrow aisle, but somehow he always manages to be half-turned toward you, long legs sprawled under his desk, one shoe kicked off, the other barely balancing on the edge of the chair. His tie is loosened, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he leans over his notepad.

A pencil is tucked behind his ear, and in the margins of the paper are little doodles—farmhouses, fields, sometimes a dog that suspiciously resembles Krypto. It’s a private world Clark creates when he thinks no one is looking, and you can’t help but notice.

The tap-tap-tap of your keyboard fills the quiet space between you, mingling with the low hum of the city beyond the windows.

“You should go home,” Clark murmurs, voice low, careful, like he’s afraid the words might wake the building itself.

“So should you,” you reply without looking up, too absorbed in your work to give him your attention.

“I’m not tired.”

You snort. “Clark, you could yawn through an earthquake.”

“Untrue,” he protests, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays him. “I’d stay wide awake just to make sure you’re okay.”

Your fingers pause over the keys. That’s Clark—earnest, protective, impossibly anchoring in the most unassuming way. His words are simple, but they feel like promises, like he’s quietly staking his claim on a world you didn’t even realize needed claiming.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, chewing your lip, trying to sound skeptical. “You’re just stalling because you don’t want to type up your own copy.”

Clark leans forward on his elbows, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, the kind that makes your pulse quicken. “Maybe. Or maybe I like being here with you.”

You freeze mid-typing, feeling the warmth of his gaze on you. Slowly, you lift your head and meet his eyes. He’s smiling faintly, tired but bright behind his glasses, hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it one too many times. The way he looks at you—like he’s taking in every little detail—makes your chest feel tight, like it could burst if you dared to move too quickly.

His lips part, breath catching ever so slightly. “I think I—“

“Think you’re about to confess something juicy?”

Both of you jump at the sound of Lois Lane’s voice. She drops a stack of papers onto her desk with a satisfying smack, smirk tugging at her lips as she glances between you and Clark.

“Relax, Kent. Don’t look so guilty. I’m not the IRS.”

Clark fumbles, nearly knocking over his coffee as he shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t—I mean, I was just—“

Lois raises an unimpressed brow, clearly trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure.” She sits, shuffling her papers with exaggerated care, and without looking up adds, “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Clark’s ears flush pink, spreading all the way to the tips. He ducks his head, scribbling nonsense in the margins of his notes, trying to erase any traces of the words that almost slipped out. You bite back a laugh, pretending to focus on your own work, but your heart won’t settle.

You can still feel the ghost of the words hovering in the space between you, the weight of them pressing against your ribs.

You glance at him secretly. His shoulders are tense, but his eyes, even behind the smudged lenses, are fixed on you in that way he always does—full of warmth, quiet longing, and a nervous energy that has never left him.

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He never does.

But you know.

You always know.

And for a moment, in the half-empty newsroom, it feels like a secret shared only between the two of you, delicate and unspoken, fragile as a breath but as certain as the sun rising over Smallville back when you were kids.

♡♡♡♡…

The fourth time Clark almost says it, you almost die.

It happens fast. Too fast.

One moment you’re walking down a Metropolis street, juggling your bag and a cup of coffee, mind racing about a lead you and Clark had been working on. The next, the ground shudders like the earth itself is angry. Glass shatters overhead, people scream, and the building beside you groans before part of its facade collapses in a storm of brick and dust.

You don’t have time to think. All you register is a deep but familiar (?) voice—sharp and panicked—calling your name before a blue-and-red blur slams into you, shielding your body from the danger with a force that pins you to the sidewalk as the debris crashes down around you. There’s a thunderous rush of air, and then you’re stumbling back into the street, coughing and spluttering, dust clinging to your hair and clothes. Your coffee is gone, your bag torn, and your lungs burn with every ragged breath.

But somehow… somehow, you’re alive.

Your head lifts, and your eyes meet the figure hovering above you. The iconic blue suit, the cape, the emblem gleaming even in the dust-choked sunlight. Superman. Your heart stills for a beat before pounding again in gratitude and awe.

He lands gracefully, cape fluttering in the wind, and kneels beside you. His hands are on your shoulders, sweeping away dust and checking for injuries. “Are you okay?” His voice is calm, but the urgency underneath sends a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah—I think so,” you gasp, chest heaving, barely steady on your knees. “Thank you… for saving me.”

“Don’t move yet,” he says, voice firm but gentle. “You might have been hit by debris you can’t see. I need to make sure—“

You shake your head, trying to stand. “No, I’m fine. I promise. Really.”

He studies you for a long moment, eyes intense, and then he’s gone in a blur, leaving only the faint echo of wind and the whisper of his cape. People stare, pointing and murmuring. You swallow hard, your pulse still racing, and for a moment, the world feels impossibly big and impossibly small all at once. Superman saved you.

. . . .

You’re pacing the small living room, bag and coat carelessly tossed onto the couch, heart still racing from the panic of that day. The city hums faintly outside your windows, oblivious to what nearly happened, but inside it feels claustrophobic, charged with anger and fear.

Clark stands near the kitchenette, hands shoved deep into his pockets, posture stiff. He keeps his gaze low, refusing to meet yours, like he’s bracing for impact. You stop pacing and point a finger at him, voice shaking. “You were there! You’re Superman! You saved me, and you didn’t tell me!”

He flinches at the word, a sharp intake of breath. “I—Yes. I was there. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Anyone to get hurt?” Your voice rises, echoing off the walls. “Clark, I almost died! And all this time, you didn’t think I deserved the truth?! What, you didn’t think I could handle it?”

His hands lift slightly, unsure where to place them. His voice rises, strained, but controlled. “You don’t understand! You have to know… I couldn’t risk it. Not your safety, not anyone’s. If people knew—if anyone found out…” His voice lowers. “Everything could change. I couldn’t let you be in danger because of me.”

“Because of you??” The words slip out, sharp and biting. “Clark, I’m not a child! I can take care of myself! I trusted Superman, and it was you all along, and you didn’t say a word. Do you have any idea how that feels!?”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, shoulders tense. “I almost told you… so many times. Trust me, every time I got close, every time I thought I could… I stopped. I couldn’t risk—“ His throat tightens, voice breaking. “…I couldn’t risk losing you.”

You blink, caught off guard by the raw honesty. You cross your arms, trying to rein in the shaking in your hands. “Lose me? Clark, you think keeping secrets like this keeps me safe? You think pretending nothing happened… pretending I don’t see the truth…”

“I didn’t have a choice!!” His voice cracks, echoing against the walls of your apartment. “Every time I nearly told you, I stopped because I couldn’t. I can’t lose you. Not knowing if someone—anyone—would come after you because of me. Not knowing if…”His words falter, chest heaving, and he takes a shaky breath. “…If you’d even want me to be the one protecting you if you knew the truth.”

Your chest tightens, heat and frustration swirling together. “Clark… you should’ve trusted me,” you whisper, voice trembling. “You think I wouldn’t have understood? That I wouldn’t have stayed?”

He swallows hard, jaw trembling, then lowers his gaze. “I just… I can’t lose you. Ever. I—“ ‘I love you’ He almost blurts out, and then stops, throat closing in on itself.

The words sit heavy on his tongue, aching to be spoken, but he doesn’t push them out. Instead, his face crumples and he pulls you against his chest, burying his face in your hair. His arms lock around you so tightly it almost hurts, as if he’s trying to convince himself you’re really there, breathing and solid in his arms.

You let him hold you, your cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the thunder of his heartbeat.

You don’t ask what he almost said.

You don’t need to.

♡♡♡♡♡…

The fifth time Clark almost says it, you’re home.

Smallville feels different now that you’ve both grown up—the fields look smaller, the farmhouse more weathered—but it still smells the same.

Fresh cut hay, pie cooling on the windowsill, and the faint hint of laundry soap Ma Kent uses, the kind no store-bought brand has ever managed to replicate.

The kitchen is alive in a way that feels sacred. Lois is leaning against the counter, glass of iced tea in hand, teasing Pa Kent about his questionable taste in movies. “Kevin Costner again, Jonathan? Really? You’re gonna subject us to Waterworld one more time?” Pa pretends to grumble, but the corners of his mouth twitch, giving him away.

Jimmy has his camera out, catching moments no one else thinks to frame: Ma Kent’s hands dusted in flour, the faded family photos tacked to the fridge, the way Kara has claimed the couch like she owns it, sprawled across the cushions with Krypto using her back as a pillow. The dog’s tail thumps whenever anyone says his name, but otherwise, he looks perfectly content to be her blanket.

It’s chaos, but the kind that soothes rather than overwhelms. The kind that makes your chest warm.

You’re standing at the sink with Clark, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms damp, soap bubbles clinging stubbornly to his wrists. You wash; he dries. The rhythm is easy, practiced—like you’ve been doing this your whole lives. (Because you have.)

Ma Kent hums faintly in the background, some tune that seems to unravel the tension in Clark’s shoulders. He relaxes in a way he never does in the city. Every once in a while, his hand brushes yours as he takes a plate, a fork, a glass. The first few times you pretend not to notice, but by the fifth brush, your stomach swoops so hard it’s a wonder you don’t drop the dish in your hands.

You risk a glance up. He’s already looking at you.

The farmhouse light catches in his eyes, making them softer, warmer. And suddenly, the room feels smaller, quieter, like it’s just the two of you standing here, hands dripping suds, soap bubbles sliding down your skin. No Lois smirking knowingly from her corner, no Jimmy crouching for the perfect shot, no Kara groaning loudly from the couch about how grossly domestic you two look.

Just you and Clark, shoulder to shoulder at a sink you’ve both outgrown.

He’s holding a dish towel but not moving. Just staring. You feel the air between you shift, thicken, as if the whole house is holding its breath. His mouth parts, his chest rising and falling like he’s been working himself up to this for years.

And then—softly, surely—he says, “I love—”

The door bursts open.

Krypto barrels in like a rocket, nails clicking across the tile, ears flopping. He launches toward the table, tongue lolling, and Kara stumbles in right behind him, nearly slipping as she tries to grab his collar. “He heard the neighbor’s dog again—sorry!”

Water splashes over the counter as you jerk, startled, and Clark fumbles the plate in his hands so badly he almost drops it. You both burst into laughter, the fragile spell shattered, and Krypto immediately demands attention like he’s done the world a favor.

Clark kneels down to scratch his ears, cheeks flushed as if nothing just happened—as if he wasn’t one syllable away from changing everything. “Guess he wanted to say hi,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly.

You crouch too, ruffling Krypto’s fur to hide the way your pulse is still thundering in your ears. “More like he wanted to save you from dish duty.”

Kara snorts from the doorway. “Or save us from whatever disgustingly sappy moment was about to happen.”

Clark shoots her a look over his shoulder, half-annoyed, half-amused. She just grins.

But when he rises again, setting the towel aside, his eyes find yours. And they’re still soft. Aching. Like the words he swallowed are right there, pressing against his ribs, begging to be freed.

You wonder what would’ve happened if Krypto hadn’t chosen that exact moment to make an entrance.

Clark wonders too.

♡♡♡♡♡♡…

The sixth time, Clark Kent finally says it.

The city hums outside your window, distant and alive—car horns, footsteps, the faint thrum of music from a bar across the street. But inside your apartment, it’s quiet, wrapped in that cocoon of stillness that only ever settles between people who know each other down to the marrow.

The lamps are dimmed, golden light spilling over books stacked on the coffee table, your half-finished mug of tea, the couch where Clark sits. His tie is loosened, collar open, glasses abandoned on the side table. His hair is a little messy, the kind of tousled that looks like it should belong to anyone but Clark Kent—except it suits him perfectly. He looks impossibly human this way, stripped of all the things that keep him buttoned up during the day.

Just him.

Just Clark.

You curl up in the armchair across from him, knees tucked under your chin, one hand loosely wrapped around your mug though the tea’s long gone cold. Neither of you rush to fill the silence. It stretches out, but it��s not heavy; it’s comfortable. It feels like the silence after a storm, like the kind of quiet that says I’m safe here.

His arm is draped across the back of the couch, long fingers brushing against the cushion. Sometimes—when he shifts, when he leans forward, when the space between you feels small enough to disappear entirely—those fingers almost graze your shoulder. Every near-touch sparks like static, a reminder of all the almosts that have piled up between you over the years.

You let yourself look at him. Really look.

The strong line of his jaw. The curve of his lips that always seem caught between bashfulness and a smile. The small furrow in his brow when he’s lost in thought. You’ve seen him a thousand times, in a thousand different lights, but somehow he still manages to knock the air out of you.

And then his gaze lifts, meeting yours. His eyes are soft, lit by the lamplight, but unguarded in a way they so rarely are. It’s like watching him peel back every careful layer he’s built—not Superman, not the shy reporter, not the steady friend who’s always there when you need him.

Just Clark.

Your chest tightens because you know, even before he opens his mouth, what’s about to happen.

His fingers twitch, a nervous little habit you’ve only ever noticed when he’s holding back something big. He swallows, throat bobbing, and then his lips part, the words quiet but certain.

“I love you.”

It’s almost tentative, almost as though he’s afraid to break the fragile stillness between you—but it carries the weight of years. Every half-glance. Every brush of his hand. Every almost-confession.

You blink, heart hammering so hard you’re sure he can hear it. A laugh escapes you, shaky and breathless, because it’s been so long coming that you almost don’t believe it’s real. “Took you long enough, Smallville.”

He exhales a laugh of his own, soft and relieved, his grin spreading wide and bashful. His whole face lights up, eyes shining in that way that always makes you feel like he’s carrying the sun inside him. “I’ve loved you forever,” he admits, voice rough with sincerity. “I just—didn’t know how to say it.”

Before you can answer, he leans forward. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips, his hands reaching for yours almost blindly—as if he needs the contact to anchor himself.

Your fingers tangle naturally, fitting together like puzzle pieces that had been waiting all this time.

And then you kiss him.

It’s slow at first, almost tentative—but the second your lips meet, it’s like the years of holding back finally snap. The kiss deepens, soft and certain, and you pour everything you’ve never said into it.

Every unsent message. Every touch you’d brushed off as accidental. Every long look you’d never let linger.

His hands frame your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and he kisses you like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s afraid he’ll wake up and find this was all a dream. His strength is there, yes, but so is his care—the gentleness he reserves only for the people he can’t bear to hurt.

When you part for breath, your lips still brushing his, he whispers against them, “I mean it. Every single word.”

You laugh again, low and breathless, pressing your face against his shoulder to hide the giddy smile threatening to split your cheeks. “I know,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. “I always knew.”

He lets out a sound that’s half a laugh, half a sigh, his cheek resting against yours. His arms wrap around you fully now, pulling you into his chest, holding you like he’s never letting go.

“I can’t believe I waited this long,” he admits, voice muffled in your hair.

“You almost said it five times before,” you tease softly.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling, pressing a small kiss to your temple. “But it’s worth the wait if the ending’s you.”

Your throat tightens, tears pricking at your eyes, and you press your forehead against his again. The city hums on around you, but here, in your apartment, time feels suspended. There’s only warmth. There’s only laughter.

There’s only Clark Kent—your friend, your constant, your gravity—finally saying the words you’ve always needed him to.

And for the first time, the world feels exactly right.

♡…

a/n: oh boy, the clark kent obsession is real y’all. (and i’m not even a big dc person)

but just know i’m sitting here rubbing my hands together every time i think of the perfect song to pair with a fic

i was thinking of that one verse from this song that’s like “you’re the girl, you’re the one” “gave you everything i loved”

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman 2025 #superman #superman x reader #superman dc #i love superman #superman movie #kal el #dc superman #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent imagine #clark kent x you #clark kent fluff #i love clark kent #dc movies #dc comics #dcu #dc universe

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weirdo2356 · 2 days ago

Text

The cruelty of fate.

Phainon x H13! reader (／。＼)

Second post and I'm already writing something intense (@_@) Well, I had this idea in my mind for a while.

Reader is a bit distance/cold to Phainon (for obvious reasons). Hints of angst, ig? If you are just a HSR player who hasn't played H13 at all, it's still okay to read ^_^ Not really spoilerish of Amphoreus. Possibly longer than I intended it to be...

And now, I'm just yapping (×_×')

Is proof read, but still probably has some typos. Do let me know ♡

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You weren't sure why you followed Welt into this universe.

You could try your best to excuse it with the fact that you wanted to try something new or maybe that you had even wanted to assist him, but the two of you knew neither were the case.

The truth was, you couldn't stand living there anymore.

Especially not after helping in the defeat of your lover.

Kiana assured you before she made her way to the moon, not wanting you to blame yourself - she told you it was Kevin's choice.

It didn't take away the pain.

You still lost two Kaslanas that day.

Humanity had a better chance of surviving now, but only because those who were precious to you sacrificed themselves.

It made you sick.

You should've been happy. Their efforts and bravery weren't in vain, but you couldn't stand how it led to that.

You couldn't force yourself to keep going another day in that world, knowing the peacefulness was only due to your lover and friend being gone.

Why would travelling to another one help? You didn't really think it through, but you were no longer able to pretend that you still enjoyed your life there and Welt was nice enough to allow you to accompany him.

Now, you were apart of the nameless. A member of the astral express crew.

Things were different, but the same...

You grew used to March 7th's bubbly self quite easily, she even reminded you a bit of yourself - at least, how you used to be when you still attended school.

PomPom was just adorable, you were very protective over them even though they were probably much more experienced in this universe than you would ever be.

Despite Trailblazer being a new member, they were hard not to get along with; being hilarious and silly yet serious when absolutely needed to be.

Dan Heng kept to himself. He was reserved, but it was obvious he cared. You never pushed him, but he was still somehow the one you got along with practically the most after Welt.

And Himeko...

Your eyes watered when you first met her, you couldn't control it.

Welt was just stunned. Though, he soon came to the understanding that you both may run into your old friends - but it wouldn't actually be them.

Great.

You were trying to move on, just to find out they existed in this universe also.

"I won't fall in love with him again." Is what you told the ex-herrscher when he expressed his concern over the possibility of running into the Kevin of this universe.

You were certain of it.

He wouldn't be your Kevin after all.

Meeting the Broyna and Seele of this world was quite a shock too. 'Luocha' had you and Welt rightfully wary, but by 'Acheron' - you were a little numb to it all.

Seeing your friends who weren't actually your friends would never fail to surprise you, but you refused to let yourself react and you were determined to keep that calmness; if you were to run into 'Kevin.'

You completely failed.

Amphoreus was a strange planet, but Black Swan had advised that it would be best for your next location.

You hated leaving March behind. In fact, you very much wish you didn't offer to accompany Dan Heng and Trailblazer the second his white hair was in your vision.

He was fast. He practically lunged towards you, stealing your weapon - knocking away all the breath that came from your lungs just because of the sight of his eyes locking onto yours.

"You got something interesting." He expressed rather cheekily with a smirk, but all you could focus on was the loud ringing in your ears and the speed of your racing heart.

Memories you thought you had buried deeply for a long time now came rushing back.

You couldn't breathe.

Dan Heng could barely care for his beloved cloud piercer, due to your reaction.

Trailblazer couldn't bring themselves to come up with a joke either when you looked like you were one second away from having a panic attack.

...Phainon was confused.

What did he do for you to look like you were about to burst into tears?

Yeah, he broke your companion's weapon and practically stole yours but you were new faces and whilst, neither of you seemed like a threat - he still had to be careful.

A small sense of guilt overtook him as he came up with the assumption that you probably felt startled. It made the most sense.

What didn't, however - was how badly he wanted to comfort you.

The black haired's glare didn't faze him, he strangely found himself wanting to reach out for you. To hold you.

That certainly wasn't normal, he didn't even know you.

"I'm fine...I promise." You murmured to your friends with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Phainon yearned to embrace you.

What was this strange feeling??

When things were a bit calmer, he learnt your names.

Yours specifically caused a weird tug at his heartstrings.

"My apologies to have startled you like that. Amphoreus doesn't usually get visitors, you see. Especially not ones from the sky." He spoke sincerely.

Your two companions did all the talking, explained things and though he listened, he couldn't understand why he seemed to hate the way you were avoiding his gaze.

He wanted you to look at him.

"I'll be sure to have your piercer fixed." He assured Dan Heng and before Phainon could stop himself, he softly called out your name.

He couldn't tell why he strangely felt nervous as he attempted to return your weapon.

You still didn't bother to glance his way once - murmuring a barley audioable 'thanks' as you practically snatched the equipment back.

He wasn't sure why he hadn't liked that.

You were probably acting rash. It really wasn't your intention, but he was just so him, but wasn't at the same time.

Phainon was a bit bigger and had broader shoulders, but he had the same sapphire eyes you admired so much, the same white fluffy hair you'd always love to run your hands through.

He even sounded exactly like Kevin. At least, before he let the burden of humanity take over him.

It crawled at your skin, you couldn't stand it.

"I..I want to talk to Welt." You say a little shakily to your two friends, who you just wanted to cling onto at the moment.

Trailblazer had their arm linked with yours and you sounded dramatic, but that was pretty much the only thing that kept you steady on your feet right now.

"Our messages haven't been getting through." Dan Heng responded with a small shake of his head.

You wanted to scream. Crawl up, explode (Caleb mentioned) and get swallowed by a random black hole all at once.

"Oh, you all have a teleslate too? Don't worry, once we're in Okhema. I'm sure you'll be able to contact the rest of your companions." Phainon assured.

He was leading the way and you couldn't even bring yourself to look at his back.

You wondered...was he happy in this universe? Fate was nothing but cruel, you learned that the harsh way and a long time ago.

He wasn't your Kevin, but you still wished for nothing to happen to him.

Would you interfering in his life like this ruin things for him..? Surely not, but you still couldn't stop yourself from being careful.

You had to keep your distance. You won't even be friendly towards Phainon. The thought hurt you deeply, but you just felt as if that was what you had to do.

Hearing your name coming from him, you finally allowed yourself to take in his features and everything about him properly.

And you were weak.

Not only was he devastatingly handsome, his eyes were so bright - they had the light you missed seeing in them. You couldn't even remember the last time you've seen Kevin like that, causing you to feel choked.

'Stop it. He isn't Kevin, not really.' You harshly reminded yourself, but it did nothing to ease the ache in your heart.

"Would that make you feel better?" Phainon questioned, regarding to his previous statement; facing you with a warm smile.

You wanted to disintegrate.

"...I don't see why it matters to you." You murmured quite harshly in response - unlinking your arm from your grey haired friend before walking off, despite not knowing the way.

Dan Heng looked towards you questionably whilst Trailblazer looked back and fourth to where you just were and to where you were walking away, wondering if you really had just said that.

Phainon was expectedly caught off guard, but he took no offence.

He felt rather intrigued, unknowingly gaining the sense to chase after you and get to know you better.

You and your companions would be stuck in Amphoreus for much longer than you and he thought after all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

This did indeed get longer than I intended to be and it's not even done O_O I think I'll just make a part two, if anyone's interested (even if they aren't - I'll still write it out of boredom, lmao).

But yeah, I hope it's not too bad so far. Thanks for reading >.<

Edit: the second part is here (／。＼)

#thecrueltyoffate #honkai impact x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #kevin kaslana x reader #phainon x reader #phainon x you

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nekoboydreams · 1 day ago

Note

HELLO! I'm a huge fan of your work, Neko-san ♡I have soooo many questions about the character's you made and maybe even about YOU♡ But I'll separate my questions for individual characters for you to easily answer (Srry if my English is bad im still learning how grammar works🤜🏼😋)For Neko-san:

1) How did you come up with a circus with roles such as Pierrot, Harlequin, and Jesters when they're not commonly seen in circuses? (Idk if a circus has such roles, I've never even got into circuses)

2) Who's character has the most bugs when it comes to coding their scenes/dialogues??

3) While doomscrooling through a bunch of Q&A's I've seen that you used to have a little doodles of either Pierrot or Harlequin (Love those doodles btw) Why don't you do them anymore? Does it take time or do you genuinely think it's a burnout?? (Srry if it is)

4) If you got any hate comments (Your fandom is getting big so I thought that hate comments will appear soon enough) Do you take them seriously? Or do you use those hate comments as feedback to improve more or something else entirely?

5) Do you have any rules about your character's? Do you have any icks?( Like... Weird head cannons?)

6) Who's your biggest inspiration for this successful VN?

(It's okay if you haven't seen these questions i know your inbox has like...99+ messages everyday, We love your work! But PLEASE don't push yourself too hard for us, we can wait, Neko-san!)

Hello! I’m really happy you like my work! And don’t worry, my English isn’t native either haha.

1- I knew about the Pierrot clown, and while looking for more info I came across Commedia dell’arte and got inspired by those roles for each of them!

2- Definitely Harlequin. If something is completely simple to code, with zero chance of going wrong, putting Harlequin in the scene will make something weird happen. There are some sprites I’d like to fix with him because I didn’t like the drawing, but honestly, I’m even afraid to try and have something go wrong again, he’s haunting me! And I think Jester will be tricky too, he kind of… moves too much.

3- I didn’t expect there to be a fandom for my game haha. So at first, I always responded with some sketches, but the number of messages became huge and now it would be impossible to find time to do them. Otherwise, I’d spend too much time answering asks and wouldn’t make progress on the game the way I want haha.

4- Well, I do get hurtful comments sometimes. I don’t really understand why some people leave mean comments, but I try not to think too much about it, though it’s hard sometimes. On the other hand, I also get really sweet comments from people who’ve become a little happier thanks to my game, and that motivates me!

5- I’m not sure I fully understood what you meant by 'rules,' but there are traits of their personalities that I never intend to show. I want you to discover them as you get to know the characters, and if you do, that will make me happy haha.

6- I’d say Homicipher, because it was thanks to that game that I decided to make my own VNs! I also took a bit of inspiration from Digital Circus in the way the story is told, the episodes leave a lot of questions and always make me want to know what’s going to happen, so I wanted that exact feeling for my own game.

Thank you for the kind words! I hope I managed to answer your questions!

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theoldestdream10 · 3 days ago

Note

Hello! Can I request a saja boys drabble? Like y/n got a nightmare and woke up. What will the boys do?

Thank you!!

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Omg omg I really love this idea! Imagine having a nightmare and waking up to your beloved (something I wished I had) Anyways enjoy~ ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

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Theme: fluff (lots of it), angst (dream vision), comfort (reader receive), etc.

Warnings: Not (fully) proofread!

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NIGHTMARE FEVER Saja boys x reader

Jinu

It wasn't even a bad dream at first. You were having lots of fun running around the flower field with your lover. The skies were blue and the wind was nice and slow.

Staring upon the clouds, you gently embrace the soft breeze blowing past your hair, your face your limbs and your body. None of you spoke until a flower crown was gently placed into your head.

Turning around, Jinu was smiling, so softly that you thought you would've drowned in it. "It suits you." was all that he said. He gently brushed his fingers through your hair, gently undoing the knots in between. You hummed, leaning into his gentle touch. Sleepiness took over you as you slowly fell into the land of dreams, feeling safe in the arms of your lover.

It was nice, until it straight up took a dark turn. When your eyes reopened, it widened at the sight of burning fires and crowded people. You were on a stage, too familiar, yet too strange. Creatures you don't know of, crawled straight to you, strangling your limbs, locking you in place.

Demons, yes. That's what they were. However, you refuse to compare those lowly, disgusting, ugly, insufferable imbeciles with your boyfriend. Surely, he was different from any of them. Screams could be heard around the area as the demons tried to intake your soul.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Jinu's voice was carved with rage, as he harshly killed off the demons hogging around you. Once they were gone, he immediately kneeled down and checked up on you. No scars, nothing lost. Not even a piece of your soul was gone was what made him sighed out of relief.

Just as the both of you were sighing out of relief, Jinu had suddenly groaned in pain as he clutched onto his head. Gwi-ma's voice rang, making Jinu's blood go cold.

"Ah... So that's the human you've been keeping away from me. You've been trying to keep her safe, no? From my grasp, my eyes, my voice... And from the world." Gwi-ma sounded happy, which.. was terrifying.

"She's been such a headache to you, no? Because of her, you weren't focusing on your mission. You've gotten weak. But don't worry, I will save you from her." Flames danced wildly, demons screeching loudly, and you, were afraid. Flames shot directly at you as you curled up, waiting for the impact.

It never came.

"I'm sorry, my love." Jinu spoke. Horror spiked in you as you saw Jinu standing in front of you, arms out, flames almost seemingly engulfing him. He was cracking, breaking even. Pieces and pieces of him started to fade away as he gently brought up a hand and caressed your face. "I'm sorry for putting you in danger. If we were never together in the first place... Then maybe- Maybe you wouldn't have had to experience all this."

"Nononononono... Don't say that!" You broke into tears as you hugged him back, tightly.

"I love you." Words filled with such adoration and love came out from his lips. And yet, you can't find yourself feeling the slightest bit of happiness. Just... Terror.

A pair of hands were around you.

Voices were calling out your name.

Your eyes shot wide open, filled with so much terror and sadness that scared Jinu. "Baby- Baby!" He grabbed ahold of your arms, trying to shake you out of your tranced state.

You gasped loudly, breaking free from the nightmare you just had. Jinu instinctively pulled you into a tight embrace. Tears uncontrollably gushed out of your eyes as you're engulfed with the warmth of your lover. You cried, shaking uncontrollably as he tried to anchor you back to reality with his warmth.

"It's okay. It's okay... I'm here now love... Relax..." Jinu gently rocked you in his arms, wiping some of your tears away in process.

"Was it a nightmare, love? Could you tell me what happened...?" He gently spoke, afraid of scaring you while you're in such a vulnerable state. Broken words fell from your lips. It wasn't perfect, but he slowly understood everything through every bit of your words.

"Don't worry, my love. I won't die. Not ever. I'm still waiting for our wedding, our children, and our future lives." He softly whispered while combing his fingers through your hair.

"I love you."

Mystery (Min-ho)

Laughter was what filled your ears. You stared at the building in front of you. Trees swayed with the wind, students chatting around... You were back in your old school days.

You weren't one to actually put a liking towards school, neither was the experience good for you. You hated- no. Loathed it. It was one of the darkest days for you, nightmare even.

You just wanted to get out of there, mind so fully calculated that you didn't even notice a group of girls approaching you. "Oh, (name)! There you are!" A sweet honey filled voice rang by your ears, which made you jump startled. "It's been a long time since we've seen you, let's catch up shall we?" Another voice rang.

Today was the day school restarted after a month of summer holiday. You should've never come back.

'THUD' A loud bang was heard when your back got in contact with the brick wall. You stared up at them, fear and anger mixing in your eyes. "Don't look at me like that ugh!" One of them slapped your cheek, leaving red fingerprints across your face.

Your bullies. Yes, that's what they were. The most painful memory for you during your school days wasn't typically about exams and studies like the others, but it's rather getting bullied. You tried reaching for help, but no one came to your aid. Not teachers, not classmates, not even your own parents.

Your bullies came from a rich family. Which is probably why the students knew better to ignore you, rather than making them mad. And the teachers? They're just scared of those behind them since some of their parents wield great power (richass).

"Think about it! Maybe it's just a you problem because why would they not do the same thing to others? It's probably you who shut everyone out!" Every time something happens to you, your parents won't be the one to care, but the one to judge. They've seemingly came to an agreement that everything happened to you was because of your own problem. They just don't care.

You tried fighting back. You really did. But you were met with even worse the next day. You also tried begging, but to no avail. That only sparked their twisted interest more.

Afterall, they're just sickos.

Day by day, you've seemed to have almost gotten used to it. However, the fear you feel whenever you see them is real. It exists, and it leaves a scar so deep.

You were scared, trembling even. Of course, who wouldn't be scared to face their own bullies? You aren't a superhuman. You're just... A child. "Please don't hurt me again- I- I promised I won't tell!" You shakily spoke as one of them grabbed a fistful of your hair.

"You think we care? We're just here for the fun. Plus, do you think those cowards would help you? Hah." One of them laughed which slowly but surely, made every one of them laugh alongside her.

Their faces turned dark, eyes croaked into crescent shapes as they giggled. Lips all curled up, mocking and laughing.

They were all demons, running loose from hell.

A punch was met in the face of your bully. One by one, they were all taken down like nothing. You didn't dare to breathe. "Love..." A familiar voice rang. Your saviour, gently kneeled down as he brushed your hair away from your face.

You didn't know who that was. He was unfamiliar to you and yet, you feel oddly comfortable around him. It's as if you've known him for years. "Who are you..." You shakily stared at the tall figure in front of you.

His hair was pale lilac in colour, bangs so long that it even covered up his upper part of face. You don't recall seeing him in school because surely you would've remembered him with how unique his hairstyle is.

He pulled you into an embrace. No words shared between the both of you but it's clear that you can understand each other. You didn't bother about it anymore. All you knew was you felt safe around this stranger. You started crying as he buried you deeper into his arms.

A few of the bullies had returned with their boyfriends. They aimlessly circled around you and the stranger. He gently sighed as he covered your ears, "I'll take care of it okay?...Please don't look..."

You listened and covered your own ears while squeezing your own eyes shut.

Minutes later, he gently unwined your hands from your ears. "It's alright, you're safe now." He buried you into his chest in an instance,as if preventing you from seeing the blood shed scene around the two of you.

"Who are... You?" You quietly spoke, voice almost cracking. "You'll meet me soon. I promise." He avoided the question.

"Now wake up, my love. I'll be waiting."

Opening your eyes, you were met with a tight hug. "Min...?" You sounded hoarse. Min-ho was quiet but his presence alone was comforting. The nightmare had become hazy, and yet there were a few pieces that you could still remember. "Min.. can you believe it? I saw you in my dreams, fighting away my bullies." You quietly spoke as you brushed back his bangs.

He quietly shushed you as he picked you with an arm, walking straight out of the bedroom into the kitchen. Turning on the dimmed lights, he placed you down onto the kitchen counter. Soon, he returned with a glass of warm water in his hands, and his hair tied up into a ponytail.

Golden eyes searched for any discomfort on your face, and he sighed out of relief when he found none. "Water..." he gently held up the glass for you by your lips as you slowly took little sips.

It was a comforting silence. "You alright now, love?" he gently tucked your hair behind your ears as he set down the glass. "Mhm." you buried yourself deep into his arms as he held you. "Thank you."

You slowly fell asleep, not noticing how his molten golden eyes shined dangerously. Bloody water going down the sink as he washed up his hands...

"I would do anything for you, my love."

Abby (Hyujin)

You kept running.

You've been running for hours and hours.

You can't stop. You can't escape. It's endless. Forever and ever and ever and ever....

"Someone, anyone! Please, please save me!" Tears fled as you ran, trying to escape the shadows that lurked beneath. A door appeared in front of you and you're relieved when you saw the green coloured exit sign hanging on top.

"Yes! YE-" Passing through the door, you're back to somewhere familiar. Too, familiar. You're back at the beginning, where everything started. "No no no no..." You pulled onto your hair, sanity dropping dangerously low.

(inserts meme: IM BACK AT THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN?!) /jk

Heavy footsteps getting louder and louder behind you. The sound of sharp nails scraping on the rusted metal door made your skin crawl. You didn't know what that thing is, and yet your instincts tells you that it's dangerous.

RUN

But you couldn't. Your knees were weak from all of the constant running a few hours ago, adrenaline all used up as you crumbled into the floor, waiting for your death. You've tried more than 10 times, trying to run out of this... building, but to no avail. You always end up coming back to the starting point once you pass through every exit. It's like an endless, castle. There was no escape, only death.

You shouted, in fear, hoping for someone who would come to your aid, even if you knew deep down inside, no one would ever come. A pair of hands slowly creeped up behind you.

It gripped onto you, hard.

Your eyes shot wide open, only to be met with a pair of worrisome eyes. "Baby.. you okay?" Hyujin worriedly looked at you as he held onto your arms. You were still dazed, eyes kept focusing and unfocusing around everything.

Hyujin hugged you tightly, whispering soft words into your ears as he tried to calm you down. You slowly came back to your senses as you hugged him back, tears falling out of your eyes.

Your cries hurt him deeply, yet the only thing he could do right now was giving you comfort. "I- I couldn't escape! I was stuck in a building, there was no way out- And-and a monster was chasing me!" Tears fell freely from your eyes as you buried yourself deeper into his arms.

"I couldn't find you, Hyu- I- I-"

"Shh. It's alright now. I'm here. I won't leave you alone, ever. I promise."

Romance (Seol-ha)

It wasn't anything new. Dates, flowers, candles and romantic moments were a normal routine for you and your boyfriend. You two had been together for a few years, here and there. Still lovey dovey though.

Your boyfriend was an idol, known for his 'flirty' personality and attractive looks. So, when you both publicly announced your relationship to the public, his fans were a bit... Enraged. Some wished for your downfall, yet some wished for you both to be together for eternity. (Since you two were pretty much so cute together)

Your boyfriend loved you so much. Or, so you thought.

Lately, he's been a bit... Distant. He would come home later than usual, because of Jinu's strict plans on dance practices. Sometimes, he would even come home with perfume smells that don't belong to you, which he claimed to be 'Hyujin's perfume'. You weren't dumb enough to believe that shit, right? Hyujin doesn't even wear perfumes!

But you did. Because of how much you loved him.

"I told you, the choreography wasn't perfect enough so Jinu asked us to stay back!" Seol-ha pinched his nose bridge, as if he's annoyed by all the questioning.

It's another normal argument, at 2AM. You've been waiting for him since 8PM, when he told you he would be home soon. It.. was your anniversary date. You prepared meals, decorated the rooms, and even dressed yourself up.

Yet, you sat by the dining table, like a fool, all alone by yourself from sunrise till midnight. You only wanted an explanation.

That, was the first crack.

Days passed, you both acted like nothing happened. Going to work as usual, coming home and eating by the table as usual. But things have silently shifted in between you. You knew. You were just afraid to point it out.

The breaking point came for you when he didn't come home the whole night.

He was on the news, seen by multiple reporters and fans for leaving a motel with a lady, who wasn't you. "Hyujin was right all along." You silently muttered, tears slipping through your eyes as you switched off the television.

You told Hyujin about the perfume incident months before. You thought the perfume smelled nice so you wanted to ask him about it. Yet, the only reply you got was "Huh? Perfume? I don't wear perfumes." Your blood went cold, as you stared at him. He seemed to have understood the situation, so he silently sighed.

"I... (Name), as your friend, I don't want to see you getting hurt. Listen to me. Leave him before you get hurt even deeper than you have now. I'm his friend too but... I'm not supportive when it comes to things like these."

You should've listened.

You should've left when you had the chance to.

As expected, the both of you got into a really heated argument. Vases were broken, mirrors were shattered, books were scattered and pillows were everywhere. You were frustrated, devastated even. Because in the end, he was still helping that pretty little bitch of his.

You jolted awake, tears running down your back. You were in your own room. Tears started brimming in your eyes as you gently sobbed, trying to run off the nightmare you had. Seol-ha was about to unlock the front door when he heard your cries. Panicked, he teleported into your room in an instance, only to find you safe, yet sobbing to yourself in bed.

"Baby-?! You okay?!" He rushed towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. You pushed him away, looking so scared, so fragile. "Where were you?!" You still remembered the visions from your nightmare. "I'm sorry I'm home late... Jinu made us practice for a bit more since our choreography wasn't perfect yet... I can video call him right now and you can ask him!" He didn't even wait for your response. Immediately, he pulled out his phone and dialed Jinu's number.

Once it's done, he handed it to you gently as he silently sat by the bed. You held your breath in as you waited for an answer. "Yes, I'm sorry for keeping him late. There were a few parts where they couldn't get it perfect so I had them stay back a bit later than usual to perfect it."

You visibly calmed down, as you hung up the phone. Seol-ha cautiously pulled you into a hug as you hugged back. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I just-I had a nightmare about you cheating on me just now..." Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you silently apologized.

"There's no need to apologize, love. It's okay to be sensitive sometimes. It just shows how much you love me." Seol-ha lightly chuckled, rubbing small circles slowly on your back.

"I will never cheat on you, I promise. You're my one and only and nothing will ever change that okay?"

Baby (Beom)

Before your relationship with Beom, you had another one, which... You didn't talk much about it. It's not that you were afraid of Beom getting jealous about it, it's just that... It was a pretty bad experience.

You're a loving girlfriend and you loved your ex a lot, you really do. And here's the thing. He was an asshole. Your ex was a total fucking asshole.

Back when the both of you got together, he was sweet and loving. He would buy you all sorts of gifts, treat you to dinner and spend time with you. Slowly, time passed and he started to show his true self.

He was a manipulative, self-centered, bitch.

He would get mad easily when you show up a minute late, or even when you were just sitting there quietly, minding your own business. He had always asked you to put on makeup before the two of you head out. It's unbelievably ridiculous that he wouldn't let you go out when you didn't.

You told you harsh words that hurt your feelings... Fat, ugly, unwanted... Yet, he would always comfort you afterwards, saying how generous he is, the only one who could accept you. It's as if a candy was given to you after getting slapped on the face.

Perhaps you loved him so much you didn't know what to do. You never left him. Even if you had the thought of it, he would always cry and beg you to not leave him.

Sometimes when he's drunk, he would either hit you or harshly drag you back into your shared bedroom and release his own anger on you. Leaving you trembling in bed afterwards, with no care if you're satisfied, nor giving you any aftercare.

That was until...

You finally gathered enough evidence to report him to the police.

You weren't stupid, of course. You knew it was a toxic relationship. The only reason you hadn't left him yet was because of the lack of courage and evidence to send him to jail. After years of fighting, you stood up for yourself, and won the lawsuit. He was sent to jail, but not for a lifetime.

Soon, you met your current boyfriend, Beom. He was a sweet guy. He would bring you flowers and gifts. Even if sometimes he was a bit childish, you knew he loved you deeply. You didn't know why, but you just knew it. It wasn't a feeling. It was an instinct. Sure, the both of you get into arguments sometimes, but he never lets it affect the both of you.

He would apologize the next day, and the two of you would make up in an instance. He never lets you feel bad about yourself. Unlike your toxic ex, he would never call you names that made you uncomfortable, nor would he judge your appearance and make shitty comments on it. Even if he would tease you here and there, they were never directed to you mentally nor physically.

He's a gentleman. And gentlemen never make fun of their lovers, nor make them feel bad.

You were just walking on the streets, enjoying the soft breeze of the evening wind. A shadow lurked behind you, stalking you silently. You were fast to notice it. You were scared, trying to walk away from it but it caught up to you fast.

It was your toxic ex, fresh from jail.

Blood went cold as you remembered all of those bad memories. You tried to scream yet no words came out, because a knife was soon to meet your neck, slitting through it. Blood splattered around as you collapsed onto the ground, helplessly.

At that moment, his face looked so much like a demon. Cracked lips disgustingly curled up into an inhumane angle, yellowish teeth poking out. Eyes cloudy as he scanned all over your body, licking his lips disgustingly. "If I can't have you, no one can. But just before you die, I might just have a taste of you before I bury you."

Your vision went black.

Your eyes shot wide open as you grabbed onto your neck instinctly. You breathed heavily, sweat soaking your nightgown. You turned to look beside you, but Beom was nowhere to be found. Just then, the door to your bedroom opened, revealing the said man.

You got onto your feet as you ran towards him, crashing into a hug. His warmth calmed you down. "Woah there baby, what's the matter?" He hugged you back, fingers running through your scalp.

"It's him again." Was all you need to say, and he already understood. "Him again huh..." His eyes darkened a bit.

Beom didn't like anything in particular (except for you) as he felt neutral towards most of the things. But there was this one thing he hated the most, which was your ex. He could never understand how your ex would have such audacity to treat you like that. You were the best thing he could've asked for in his life.

The closest to heaven that he'll ever get.

He hated how ungrateful he was. And yet, at the same time he was a bit selfish to think that he's grateful for him. Because of his actions, he had the chance to have you all to himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't even have met you.

"Shh baby, it's okay. Don't worry, he won't appear anymore. He disappeared a few months ago from the prison mysteriously, remember? Claw marks were left so it was assumed that beasts ate him." Beom gently whispered.

"I know... It's just... Weird, don't you think? How can a beast appear suddenly in the prison and not to mention, eat him and leave without any guards noticing." You mumbled quietly.

"Baby, look at me. I promise he won't come near you ever again. Trust me." He tilted your chin towards him as he stared into your eyes.

You nodded and he gently coaxed you back to bed, promising that he would join you in a minute.

After making sure you're properly tucked into bed, he quietly walked down the basement. A man was tied up onto the chair, tortured so much that he had lost his light in his eyes. "You've made my darling sad again. And I'm mad." Beom's eyes turned molten gold as sharp nails grew from his finger tips, lips curled up into a sickening smile.

"Now you'll pay the consequences for hurting her, you piece of shit."

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WOOOO I FINALLY FINISHED IT YAY (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ This was so fun to write (kinda worked on it for 2-3 days) I hope y'all enjoy it!

[COMMENTS, REBLOGGING AND LIKES ARE APPRECIATED‼️]

Thank you for reading :3

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #mystery saja #baby saja #abby saja #jinu #romance saja #saja boys #drabble #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #x reader stories

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tiny-twinstars · 1 day ago

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Trans!Sevika Headcanons

Just some Headcanons for Trans!Sevika :)

A/N: Please don't take any of this seriously, as I only have so much knowledge about being trans and the struggles that comes with it. I have talked to a lot of different people about their experiences and used that to build some of these Headcanons. Remember, everyone is different <3

Fluff is ♡ and Smut is ☆

♡ Trans!Sevika who realized she was trans and a lesbian at a young age. It was after she had kissed a girl for the first time at fourteen. She always had the feeling, but to get hit with both at once was a like a double punch.

♡ Trans!Sevika who started HRT in her early twenties, having to practically fight for the smallest dose due to Zaun's healthcare.

♡ Trans!Sevika, who started working out daily, not only because she liked it but to help redistribute her fat. She takes pride in her abs and thick thighs, her biceps strong and her fingers calloused. After the explosion with Powder, her body dysmorphia kicked to a different level now that she was missing an arm.

♡ Trans!Sevika whose body dysmorphia was less about her lower half, though there were times she didn't like it, but rather the excess hair and her resemblance to her dad. She would spend hours crying in the bathroom as she plucked and pulled and waxed anything that wasn't her happy trail or bush.

♡ Trans!Sevika, who takes estrogen pills because she's afraid of needles.

♡ Trans!Sevika, who met you early in her life, almost two years after she started estrogen. She grew to love you, even when she found you annoying at times.

You had been friends, as much as she would allow, slowly growing closer throughout her transition until she realized she had feelings. Shockingly, you had asked her out first, sitting together on one of Zaun's many collapsing rooftops. The to-go bag from Jericho's sat between you, Sevika munching on something resembling fries. “I have a crush on you.” You blurted, making her choke on a fry. “What.” She breathed, wiping her mouth with her right hand, face feeling hot and heart pounding.

♡ Trans!Sevika who occasionally forgets to put the toilet seat down then proceeds to fall in it when she has to use the bathroom later. You have also fallen in it and she's had to get you unstuck.

♡ Trans!Sevika who never expected her breast growth to be a lot due to what she's researched and working out, only to get the biggest tits she ever expected. She also didn't realize how often they got in the way.(She blames her mom's genes.)

☆ Trans!Sevika whose libido has hardly dipped in the slightest. If anything she got more sensitive. Something brushes her nipple? Hard. Accidentally touches her crotch? Hard. You existing? She might as well cum then and there.

☆ Trans!Sevika who lets you top whenever you want or when she really needs it. The strap you use is an obnoxious bright purple to match the shimmer in her veins. The tip is big and the shaft is fat and long, big enough to make your girlfriend sob and make you look ridiculous.

☆ Trans!Sevika who can cum from nipple simulation. This doesn't help that you have grubby fingers that like to use her boobs as stress balls. You did accidentally bite her nipple once and she nearly screamed like you were a bug on her face.

☆ Trans!Sevika who dry humps you without meaning to. You could both be laying in bed, talking about your day and her hips will start rolling. The large bulge rutting against your ass with “uh huh” and “yeah yeah” as if she was listening.

☆ Trans!Sevika with a breeding kink that goes both ways. She absolutely tries to cream pie you every time with the visceral need to get you pregnant. This also goes when you press your strap deep into her, she starts begging for a baby in her stomach.

𝐸𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑎

♡ Trans!Sevika who gets the funds and healthcare to get bottom surgery after she becomes a councillor. When she finally gets home from the hospital, you have to nag at her to remember to dilate. (You start doing it for her and she hates it but loves you.) Sometimes you'll find her laying down while recovering, a mirror propped between strong thighs as she admired her new pussy.

☆ Trans!Sevika who immediately rubs your cunts together when she's fully healed. Her clit is big, a deep purplish tint. Her labia is just as chubby, cunt pulsing as she holds your legs open to smack your pussies together at a speed she shouldn't be capable of.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika arcane #trans!sevika #sevika au

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rskdoll · 1 day ago

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Wedding night ♡ Bruce Wayne

content: Bruce Wayne × Bunny marriage, mentions of marriage, teasing, oral (f!), praising, sexual content, +18 MDNI.

Y/N giggled uncontrollably as Bruce carried her over the threshold, her arms looped around his neck, her pristine chignon was a memory now and her hair was bouncing with each step. The wedding had been a dream out of a fairytale, held at Gotham’s oldest cathedral. Now with Alfred away for the weekend, they were alone in the manor, the estate theirs to fill with their happiness. Bruce’s lips found hers as they stumbled inside, their kisses were both playful and hungry, punctuated by her soft giggles and his chuckles.

“Mrs. Wayne,” he murmured against her mouth, sending a shiver down her spine.

Her eyes sparkled, crinkling with delight as she tilted her head and whispered, “Mr. Wayne,” her tone teasing but laced with love.

Her petite frame pressed against his, her wedding gown making her look so perfect, he couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly she fit in his arms, how perfect she looked.

They didn’t make it far.

The grand staircase loomed before them, but the pull between them was too strong, too immediate. Bruce’s hands, usually so controlled, trembled slightly as he set her down, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of her gown.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his blue eyes dark with desire, yet soft with a reverence that made her heart flutter.

She blushed, her dimples deepening, and reached for his tie, her small hands deft as she loosened the knot, her giggles fading into a breathy sigh as their lips met again, deeper this time, urgent. He began to peel away her dress, his movements slow, almost worshipful, as if savouring every inch of fabric he lifted.

The gown slipped from her shoulders, revealing pristine lingerie... a vision of soft white lace and satin, hugging her petite frame in a way that made Bruce’s breath catch. The bra was sheer, adorned with tiny embroidered flowers, accentuating the gentle curve of her breasts, while the matching panties, high-cut and edged with lace, framed her hips like a work of art. A garter belt held up silk stockings, their sheen catching the light, and Bruce paused, his hands hovering, as if afraid to touch something so perfect.

“Fuck,” he whispered with awe, “you’re… unreal.”

She laughed softly, her fingers working at his shirt buttons.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her voice a melodic lilt as she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, revealing the taut planes of his chest, scarred yet strong, a map of his life as both Bruce and Batman.

Her hands traced his skin, her touch gentle but igniting, and she leaned up to kiss him, tasting of the champagne and strawberries they’d shared at the reception. Their clothes fell in a haphazard pile at the base of the staircase, his tuxedo jacket mingling with her gown, a symbol of their union as tangible as the rings on their fingers.

The need between them was electric, too urgent to carry them upstairs to the bedroom.

Bruce’s hands found her waist, lifting her effortlessly to sit on the third step of the grand staircase, the cool wood a contrast to the heat of their bodies. He knelt before her, his tall frame folding to meet her, his eyes locked on hers as he pressed a kiss to her knee, then higher, his lips brushing the silk of her stockings.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands tangling in his hair, her body arching toward him, her eyes locked on his with a trust that made his heart pound.

“I need you,” he rasped, his kisses turning fervent as he trailed them over her collarbone, then lower, sucking gently at the swell of her breast above her bra.

He unhooked her bra with a flick of his fingers, letting it fall away to reveal her breasts—perfect, her nipples hardening under his gaze. He kissed them reverently, his tongue swirling around one peak, then the other, drawing a soft whimper from her lips. Her thighs parted wider, inviting him closer, and he slid her panties down, the lace whispering against her skin as he tossed them aside. Her pussy was bare before him and he groaned, his hands spreading her thighs as he kissed the soft skin just above her garter.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing her inner thigh.

Y/N’s hands gripped the edge of the step as he kissed higher, his mouth finding her core. He licked her slowly at first, his tongue tracing her folds, savouring her sweetness, the single taste of her driving him wild.

She moaned, a needy sound that echoed in the empty mansion, her hips rocking against his mouth.

“Bruce,” she gasped, her eyes half-lidded but fixed on him, watching as he devoured her, his tongue circling her clit with deliberate precision.

He sucked gently, then harder, his hands holding her thighs open as she trembled, her moans growing desperate. Her pussy was so wet under his tongue, that he lapped at her like a man starved, every flick and swirl drawing her closer to the edge.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling hard enough to sting, and he growled against her, the vibration making her cry out.

“Oh, God, Bruce,” she whimpered, her thighs shaking as he pushed her higher, his lips worshiping every inch of her.

She was melting, her body liquid under his touch, her moans turning to gasps as her climax built. He slid a finger inside her, then two, curling them to hit that perfect spongy ppot, and she shattered, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came, her cries of his name filling the manor.

He didn’t stop, licking her through her orgasm, his kisses softer now as she trembled beneath him. Y/N’s eyes were glassy, her chest heaving, but she reached for him, pulling him up to kiss her, her lips hungry despite her breathless state.

“We didn’t even make it upstairs,” she murmured, her hands roaming his chest, then lower, tugging at his belt.

He chuckled, and helped her, shedding the rest of his clothes until he was bare, his cock hard and aching for her. “We have all night.”

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close, and he kissed her deeply, his hands cradling her face as he positioned himself above her on the stairs and rested his forehead against hers, his hands cradling her face.

“And every night after,” he said, his thumb brushing her cheek.

♡ taglist / @slowlyshycomputer

#૮꒰ ྀི◜๑◝ ꒱ა rskdoll #bunny!bruce #div cred @/bbyg4rlhelps #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne

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lazysoulwriter · 13 hours ago

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hold you steady ── .✦ - HS

requested! thank you. ♡ content: fluff, established relationship, drunk!reader, caretaker!harry, domestic softness

You were giggling before you even made it through the door. The kind of tipsy, bubbling laughter that spilled out of you uncontrollably, echoing down the hallway as Harry steadied you with one arm wrapped tight around your waist.

“Shhh, love, you’ll wake the neighbors,” he teased softly, though there was no hiding the smile tugging at his lips.

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. “You’re so handsome,” you whispered, as if it were a secret only the two of you could know.

Harry’s heart gave a little squeeze. “Yeah? You’ve said that four times tonight.”

“’Cause it’s true,” you declared, tripping slightly over your own feet. He caught you instantly, holding you close, his chest shaking with quiet laughter.

Once inside, Harry guided you to the couch, helping you sit down before kneeling in front of you to unstrap your shoes. “Easy now. Can’t have you toppling over in these, can we?”

You watched him with a dreamy little smile, fingers brushing through his curls. “You’re too good to me.”

He glanced up, eyes soft. “Not too good. Just right. S’my job, innit? Taking care of you.”

Your chest warmed at the words, though your tipsy brain could only manage a happy sigh. Harry pulled your shoes off gently, set them aside, then helped you into one of his oversized shirts, swapping your clothes out with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times.

When you wobbled, he steadied you with careful hands. When you giggled, he kissed your forehead. When your voice cracked on a sudden wave of drunken emotion—murmuring that you didn’t deserve him—he cradled your face, eyes shining serious.

“Don’t say that. You’re everything to me, darling. Everything. I’ll take care of you for as long as you’ll let me.”

You sniffled, then immediately started laughing again, and Harry shook his head with fond exasperation. He led you to bed, tucking you in beneath the covers before slipping in beside you.

“Water first,” he reminded gently, holding the glass to your lips until you drank. “There you go. Good girl.”

Your eyelids were heavy now, your body sinking into the mattress, but you still reached for him, clinging to his shirt. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” he promised, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he kissed the top of your head. “Never. I’m right here.”

He held you close until your breathing evened out, your face pressed against his chest. Only then did he let himself relax, his own eyes closing, still listening to your steady breaths.

Harry knew he’d wake up in the morning to your inevitable hangover groans, but for now—he was just grateful. Grateful to be the one you leaned on, the one you trusted to carry you through every messy, lovely, human moment.

And as he drifted off, his last thought was simple, certain: there was nowhere he’d rather be.

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #hs

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cheshireliam · 13 hours ago

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"In The Heat of Summertime Lust" Story Event: Ellis Twilight 95K Bonus Story

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Special thanks to リーさん for sending me the story ♡

Today, a drop of blank ink fell onto it — the story of my sweet daily life where Kate and I continuously renewed our happiness.

…

(Kate will be back soon. … I need to hurry up.)

The moment I returned to my room, I roughly stripped off my clothes that were soiled with blood, mud, and sweat, and hurried to the bathroom.

I poured the hot water over my head, lathered on soap, and began meticulously scrubbing my body — from my shoulders, down my arms, even to the tips of my fingers.

(... Thank goodness they wash off easily.)

The grime clinging to my body got there a mere few hours ago—

[ Flashback ]

Ellis: … Done resisting yet?

Red-Haired Man: Eeek! I’m really sorry! Forgive me!!

The man who boldly attacked me first cowered in fear after I hit him a couple times.

Red-Haired Man: Y-you’re talking about the plan to attack J-Jude’s woman, aren't you!?

Red-Haired Man: I won’t lay a hand on that woman again! I swear!

(“Jude’s woman”...)

That was what people who targeted Kate sometimes called her.

Aside from the employees at Raven Co. and his business partners, Jude never kept another woman by his side, so anyone seen standing that close to him would stand out for sure.

Because Kate was spotted with Jude, she was mistaken for his lover and became a prime target.

(... But Kate is my girlfriend.)

Something in my chest let out a dreadful creak.

Red-Haired Man: Your job’s pretty though, huh. You even have to protect your boss’ woman.

Ellis: … She’s my girlfriend.

Red-Haired Man: Not Jude’s, but yours? … Heh.

The man’s lips curled into a mocking grin.

Red-Haired Man: You’re getting played.

Ellis: … What do you mean?

Red-Haired Man: I saw that woman spreading her legs for Jude!

Red-Haired Man: She was moaning like a fool about how much she loved him while they screwed!

Ellis: …

Red-Haired Man: If that pisses you off, shouldn't you be beating Jude up instead of me!?

(Kate and Jude wouldn’t betray me.)

It was obvious the man was only trying to drive a wedge between us, his words no more worthy than the dirt on the ground.

But before I could answer, my body moved on its own — and my fist broke his jaw.

Red-Haired Man: Guwah!?

Ellis: I thought I could let you off because you promised not to touch Kate ever again, but… sorry, I can't do that anymore.

Ellis: I'll make you regret spitting out lies with that filthy mouth of yours to smear Kate and Jude.

In the sweltering summer heat — I continued beating the man until he could no longer even muster the strength to scream.

[ Flashback End ]

“I saw that woman spreading her legs for Jude!”

“She was moaning like a fool about how much she loved him while they screwed!”

(... I hate it.)

Those lies resurfaced in my mind, staining the insides of my heart pitch-black.

Unlike the dirt on my body, those stains weren't going to wash off that easily.

Kate, who had been cooped up in her room all day working on piles of reports, came to my room around the same time I finished every physical trace of what happened.

Ellis: Welcome back, Kate. … You must be tired.

Kate: … I’m home, Ellis.

Kate giggled when I pulled her close and kissed her forehead, she was so adorable I couldn't resist stealing her lips next.

Kate: — Nn.

A soft sigh escaped her lips against mine, and heat began stirring up quietly somewhere deep within me.

(... I want to keep kissing her until she can’t breathe.)

Her face flushed red, facial expression melting in pure bliss — maybe if I saw her like that, the bitterness in my heart would finally disappear.

Kate: Nn… Ellis, wait.

(Wha…)

She suddenly pressed her palms against my chest and gently pushed me away, looking up with me with a firm gaze.

Ellis: … Kate?

Kate reached out her hand and brushed her fingers against my hair, still damp from the shower.

Kate: Your hair’s a little wet.

(... Darn. I didn't dry it off properly.)

Ellis: Oh, yeah… I took a shower.

Kate: At this timing…?

Ellis: I just felt like washing up earlier than usual. … Were you hoping to do it together?

That second part was said on purpose, feigning playfulness to deflect her from finding out the truth.

But Kate only continued staring at me with a serious look.

Kate: … Ellis. You’re not hiding something from me, are you?

Ellis: Huh…?

Kate: I’m sorry if I’m mistaken. But from the moment I came into your room…

Kate: Something tells me that you’re feeling hurt.

Ellis: …

Kate: … I was just thinking, if there's anything I can do to help you feel better, I want you to tell me.

Kate tenderly wrapped her hands around my hand — the same hand that’d been dripping with blood just moments ago.

Ellis: … I’m really no match for you, Kate.

(Somehow, I knew it’d turn out this way.)

(No matter how desperately I try to hide it, there’s no way I can keep anything from you.)

(Because… you’re the one who opened up the heart I’d kept locked away for the longest time and accepted me for who I am.)

I sat down on the bed, and Kate sat close next to me, leaning her head in as though to share the weight of the feelings burdening me.

Ellis: … The truth is, I got into a fight.

Kate: A fight?

Ellis: There’s this man who’s been wanting to attack you.

Ellis: I captured him and meant to only warn him so that he’ll never dare to even think of going near you again.

Ellis: But then he told an awful lie that you were cheating on me with Jude—

Kate: W-what…!? How could anyone possibly look at me and think I’m Jude’s lover!?

Ellis: … Yeah, exactly.

(I knew right away he was lying, but hearing Kate grow furious over it makes me feel relieved.)

Ellis: Of course I didn't believe him, but the mere fact that he said those things irked me…

Ellis: So I went a little too far… my clothes and body were dirty with blood and mud.

Ellis: That’s why I wanted to take a shower before you noticed.

Ellis: I didn't want you to worry, and…

Ellis: — I hated the idea of you thinking about what that man said, even for a split second.

Jude and Kate having sexual relations and saying they love each other was impossible in every universe — but the thought of her thinking about it made my blood boil…

Ellis: It’s not true, and maybe it is weird, but…

Ellis: … I’m jealous.

(Ah… I said it.)

(If Kate had even briefly pictured herself having that sort of relationship with Jude, I can't stand it.)

(I hate it. … I hate it so, so much.)

Even though I was the one who spat those words out, now that they’d reached Kate’s ears, I wanted to pull them back out.

Kate: Ellis…

She looked at me with such worry that I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze, and so I turned away.

Ellis: … Sorry. I think it might be best if you stayed away from me right now.

Kate: Huh…?

(If we continue staying in the same space like this, my selfishness will only hurt her.)

Ellis: You should go back to your own room for tonight—

But before I could finish, Kate grabbed my arm.

Kate: I don't want to.

Her tone when cutting me off was unusually firm — Kate then pushed against my chest.

I fell backwards onto the bed and Kate straddled me.

Ellis: Kate…?

I stared up at her, puzzled by her uncharacteristic boldness—,

Kate: … Did you already forget what I said earlier?

Kate: Ellis. You’re hurt, and yet you’re telling me that the only thing I can do is… go back to my room?

Kate: … I told you. If there’s anything I can do to actually help you feel better, I want you to tell me.

Kate: Tell me, Ellis. What do you truly want from me?

Ellis: …

The next thing I knew, I flipped her over and pushed her onto the bed.

Effortlessly pinning her down by the wrists, there was no way for her to escape.

(... Kate is mine.)

The jealousy dulled a little, but it was now replaced with an unstoppable lust.

Kate: … Come on, tell me.

Ellis: I want to know for certain… if I’m the one you love.

Kate: Okay. Mmph—

With her nod of consent, I crashed my lips against hers and all my remaining sanity instantly vanished.

Kate: Nngh!? … Mm, Ellis…

Our breaths mingled, I forced her lips apart and traced the roof of her mouth with my tongue.

Ellis: Kate… can I really say what I want you to do for me?

(... She looks so cute when she’s so desperately trying to respond to me.)

Wanting to show her love, Kate tangled her tongue with mine more eagerly than usual.

Kate: Haah… nn….

With her arms wrapped around my neck, she deepened the kiss while my hands fumbled with her clothes and tugged her blouse down.

She broke the kiss and let me watch as she slowly undid the laces of her corset herself.

Ellis: … You’re stripping for me?

Kate: … Y-yes.

Perhaps out of embarrassment, her words were few.

But that silence only made it clearer that she was doing this for me, and that thought filled me with joy.!

Ellis: … It drives me crazy to think of another man imagining how beautiful you are like this.

Kate: Ahh—

I pulled her upright, sat her on my lap, then stripped away the loosened corset and pressed my lips to her chest.

As I sucked and teased the hardened tips of her breasts with my tongue, Kate rolled her hips — her core rubbing against my bulge that had grown so painfully huge it felt like it would burst my trousers open.

Ellis: Nngh, Kate… your hips… do you want it?

Kate: Nn, nnnh, yes…

The moment I saw her nod, desire flooded into me so violently I couldn't hold it down.

Ellis: Then will you put it in yourself…?

I leaned in and whispered into her ear as I removed the last of her clothes.

Her eyes brimmed with tears — not from sorrow, but from the same arousal I was feeling.

Knowing that made my head spin from how happy I felt.

Kate: Ah, aah, aaahh—

Lifting her hips, Kate guided my manhood to her entrance and slowly lowered herself onto it.

Even without the use of fingers to prepare her, she was already soaking wet and her slick folds swallowed me greedily.

Ellis: Nngh… so tight… just a little bit more… you can do it.

Kate: Ah… AAHH—!

Ellis: Aha… it’s all in… feels so good.

Kate: Haa… haa… mm, I feel good too… Ellis…

Usually, I wanted nothing more than to make Kate feel good, but…

Ellis: Kate… can you do the work this time?

Ellis: I want you to make me feel good.

I brushed my fingers over her sensitive nub as I begged.

(Only I get to see this… only I know this side of you.)

(I want to see more.)

Kate: Nn… o-okay.

Kate bounced on it, making obscene wet noises with every movement.

Kate: Ah, ah, ahh

(God… this is incredible.)

(She’s doing all this just for me.)

That thought was enough to have me on the verge of cumming.

She clenched around me so tight, my hips moved on their own.

When I thrust into her, Kate shook her head like she wanted to resist, but then she arched her back and squeezed me hard.

Kate: Ahh, ahhh… Ellis…

Ellis: Ggh… sorry, I can’t stop.

Kate: Ahh—!? Ah, aah, ahhh!

Normally, I’d wait for her to compose herself after release.

But tonight, there was no way I was going to hold back.

Her body turned limp and collapsed against mine, and so I had her back down on the bed beneath me.

Ellis: — Does it feel good, Kate?

She nodded desperately, eyes dazed, and stretched her arms out towards me who had been pounding her so relentlessly.

Kate: Nngh!!

She wrapped her arms around me in a crushing embrace, and I kissed her at the same time I sank myself deep inside her core that was already a sloppy wet mess.

(... This is how much Kate loves me.)

My heart swelled with happiness.

— But the lust driven by my jealousy was still far from satisfied.

Ellis: Kate… I want more. Can Iv

Kate: … Mm, you can.

Kate: Until you stop hurting, I’ll keep showing you… that I love you and only you.

Her smile contained nothing but affection and tenderness, even as she gave herself to satisfy my greed.

Ellis: … Thanks.

Ellis: Let me see more sides of you only I know.

…

Dawn quietly fell upon us, lighting up the sky.

Kate slightly stirred in my arms.

(... Looks like she’s waking up.)

Kate: Mm…

A raspy sound escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered open as I watched.

Ellis: … Good morning, Kate.

Kate: Good morning, Ellis.

She gave a soft smile and tried to sit up.

Kate: … ugh.

Her body swayed unsteadily and she ended up resting against me on the bed.

Kate: Ah… s-sorry.

Ellis: Don’t apologise, I was the one who was too rough last night.

Ellis: Since you can’t move, I'll take care of you today.

Kate's face turned bright red when I whispered that in her ear.

… At the same time, the dense suffocating darkness in my heart finally faded away.

(... Because of me, Kate can't go anywhere.)

(She’ll be with me forever.)

The heart that was once painted pitch-black with jealousy was now filled with a dark happiness.

(No matter what… it looks like my heart will never be pure white.)

But I was sure that Kate would still smile and accept that ugly part of me.

(... I’m so happy.)

Knowing the joy that came from being spoiled by her love, I realised again—

Perhaps the two of us have moved a step closer to ultimate happiness.

—

I apologise for the sloppily translated smut because again, smut is not really my thing. I tried my best, really.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #ikevil translations #cybird ikemen #ellis twilight #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story event

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 2 days ago

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50 Shades of Red || Chapter 20

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Natasha helps Wanda relax after moving.

content warnings: Restraints, riding crop, dildo.

word count: 3.8k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Wanda is a frazzled mess by the time Natasha arrives the next morning. The woman is, of course, dressed impeccably. She catches a glimpse of Nick waiting by the car as she opens the door, panting slightly from unpacking and her hair still damp from her shower. Does the woman take him everywhere?

“Good morning,” Natasha begins, cutting herself off as she’s pulled inside.

“Hi, yes, good morning,” Wanda speaks quickly. “I’m still unpacking, as you can see.” She helplessly gestures to the boxes strewn around the small house. They make their way back to Wanda’s room, Natasha’s stoic facade cracking as she hears faint moans coming from behind Kate’s closed door.

“Is my sister…”

“Yes. Don’t worry, we can’t hear them from my room.”

Wanda chuckles a bit at the disgusted look that graces Natasha’s features. It’s endearing to see the woman behind the mask she puts on each day. The look is so raw; only an older sister could wear such a look.

“Here’s my room,” Wanda says, pushing open her door and cringing at the boxes pushed haphazardly against one wall. She’s made some progress; her bedframe and mattress are completely unpacked, and her desk sitting right next to a large window. Most of her clothes are strewn atop her mattress, and she helplessly gestures at nothing. “It’s a work in progress.”

Stepping gracefully over a random notebook on Wanda’s floor, Natasha surveys the room. “It’s not bad for the first day, Wanda. You’ve just moved in, give yourself some grace.”

Well. Wanda doesn’t have much to say to that. She feels something warm bubble in her chest, and she takes a steadying breath. Maybe she could try to relax today. After all, she doesn’t have to completely unpack in one day.

“Do you need a break?” Natasha asks, raising a single eyebrow.

“It’s like you read my mind,” Wanda murmurs, stepping closer to her. “I can think of several things I could do with my break.”

“Oh, can you?”

“Mhmm,” Wanda steps into the woman’s space, loving the feel of Natasha’s hands immediately going to her waist. Her body is pulled flush against the older woman’s, and she bravely leans in to kiss those perfect lips.

Natasha kisses her back like she’s been starved. She presses against Wanda until her back is flush against the wall. She can feel some boxes near her calves, but she pays them no mind as her tongue meets the older woman’s. That is, until she stumbles when her foot catches the corner of one of the boxes.

“Ah, fuck,” she hisses.

Pulling back with a look of alarm, Natasha scans her up and down. “I’m sorry, did I-”

“No, don’t be ridiculous, you did nothing wrong,” Wanda laughs a little. “Didn’t you say you had plans for us today?”

“I did,” Natasha says with a pleased smile. “These plans do not involve us making out in your bedroom of boxes, though.” She leans in, one of her hands moving from Wanda’s waist to her ass and squeezing slightly. “One of the perks of you living in my city is that I can steal you away whenever I want.”

Wanda would have said something witty, but right at that moment, they heard a loud crash from the kitchen.

“That would be my sister.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Get ready to leave, we’ll be going to my place. I’ll figure out what’s going on out there.”

“Will we be in your um, special room?”

Natasha stops in her tracks, smirking slightly as she turns her face slightly. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

With that, she leaves. Wanda assumes the lack of an answer means they will be in the woman’s red room of pain and pleasure. She isn’t sure how Natasha would feel about her calling it that. The scent of cinnamon lingers, Wanda inhaling deeply for a moment before grabbing her phone and slipping on some sneakers. If they’re just going to Natasha’s place, she doesn’t feel the need to dress up. Besides, the woman would most likely insist on buying her clothes if they went out.

In the kitchen, Wanda finds Natasha standing with her arms crossed disapprovingly as Kate balances on the counter by her knees, attempting to put something away on the top shelf. Yelena is helping, if you can call her hands all over Kate’s ass and thighs helping.

“What-”

“We’re leaving,” Natasha says, giving Yelena a pointed look. “Behave yourselves.”

“God, you’re such a mom,” Yelena smirks at her. “Seeya Wands.”

Flushing, Wanda just waves awkwardly in their direction. Natasha smiles at her before taking her hand and pulling her gently toward the door. It’s cute, if she’s being honest. For her first relationship, she feels pretty fucking good.

The car ride is quick, Nick driving in stoic silence as Wanda talks Natasha’s ear off about the move. She does mention that she loves her new car, and she notices Natasha’s lips curl up at the corners in smug satisfaction.

Nick pulls into an underground garage, and Wanda’s eyebrows rise as she takes in all of the cars. They drive deeper, and the man smoothly backs into a parking spot.

“Do a lot of rich people live here?”

“Yes, this section is my own personal garage.”

Looking around, Wanda counts at least five different cars. No wonder the woman had so casually bought her a car; it was probably a hobby for her.

“Oh.”

Natasha just smiles and exits the car, walking around the front and opening Wanda’s door for her. They enter the elevator, Wanda flushing at the memory of their kiss, while Nick presses the button for the penthouse.

Nick disappears somewhere once they reach Natasha’s floor. Wanda assumes he’s going to a secret room filled with TV screens showing security camera footage like in the movies, but she isn’t given much time to dwell on the thought.

The moment the door closes behind them, Natasha has her pressed against it firmly. Her hips trap Wanda’s. There are hands all over her, running over her waist, her hips, her stomach, up to her chest, her neck, her-

Fingers find the back of her head, gripping her hair firmly but gently. Her head is pulled back, her throat exposed as Natasha’s face looms over hers. Those green irises are almost completely taken over by her dilated pupils. There’s a stern expression on her face.

“I’m ordering you to relax,” she purrs, her tone steady. “No more worrying about job interviews or unpacking. Not while you’re here with me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

In one motion, Wanda is turned around by rough hands at her waist. Her arms hit the wall in surprise, the hand on the back of her head pressing her face gently against it.

“Is that how you address your Dominant?”

Natasha’s hips roll subtly against hers, and Wanda has the feeling that the older woman is enjoying this power play just as much as she is. Probably even more, if she’s being honest.

“Sorry. Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Mm,” Natasha’s voice is directly in her ear. She feels warm lips drag over the sensitive skin behind her ear. They move down, sucking gently on the skin of her neck, and she suppresses a moan. “I do so like it when you say my name like that.”

A quick hit is landed against her ass. It doesn’t hurt, but the motion surprises Wanda.

“Don’t hold back any of those pretty noises, Wanda. I want to hear you. There’s nobody else here but us.”

“Yes, Mrs. Romanoff.”

“Such manners, let’s see if you’ll remember them once we get to my… what did you call it? My special room?”

“I- well, that was kind of a joke-”

Natasha shuts her up by sucking a particularly harsh hickey into the base of her neck where her skin meets her shoulder. Wanda lets out a low moan. It doesn’t sound sexy to her; it just sounds pathetically desperate, but Natasha groans in response.

“Follow me.” The woman orders, practically tearing herself away from Wanda and grabbing her hand. “I want you.”

Eagerly, Wanda follows. She can feel her heart start to race slightly as they draw closer to the room. There is a tendril of nervousness and trepidation curling inside her, and she does her best to push it down. Natasha hasn’t hurt her. And when she has, it didn’t really hurt all that much. She can trust her; she just needs to set aside her own fears first.

“When we enter,” Natasha says, stopping suddenly and turning to face Wanda. She can see the door behind her, but she forces herself to focus on the woman’s face. “I want you to strip down to your panties. Do you understand?”

“Even my bra?”

“Are you comfortable doing that?”

“Yes.”

Natasha gives her a pointed look.

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Good girl. I’m going to prepare some things. By the time I come back, I want you stripped and kneeling by the door. Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

Natasha smiles, and Wanda hopes she’s not imagining the proud look in her eyes. The woman kisses her gently, and Wanda feels her arousal rising again. God, how could a simple kiss do that?

She opens the door, and Wanda steps inside. Natasha leaves her, disappearing through a door on the other side of the room. Wanda takes in the bed with its dark red sheets, the low, ambient lighting that highlights various items lining the walls. She eyes the large wooden X in the corner for a moment before she remembers the instructions she was given.

Quickly, she strips out of her clothes. Folding them neatly, she tucks her bra under her shirt and places the pile out of the way near the door. The air is pleasant, if a bit chilly. She can feel her nipples hardening, and she pretends like it's because of the temperature, not the arousal and thrill she feels at following Natasha’s command.

Something rustles on the other side of the door, and Wanda quickly kneels. She isn’t sure exactly how the older woman wants her to, so she holds her hands clasped on top of her thighs.

After a few moments, Natasha emerges from the door. She’s also changed, wearing a pair of black linen pants and a lacy black bra. She isn’t wearing anything else, and Wanda can hear her footsteps as she pads across the room. She drops a few items on the bed before making her way over to Wanda.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, bending down slightly as she grasps Wanda’s jaw. “Unclasp your hands and place them palm up on your thighs. You can sit back on your heels. Shoulders back and head held high.”

Wanda obeys, the position pushing her chest out further. Natasha makes an approving sound, her fingers tracing her collarbones and shoulders.

“Now, hold your hands out.”

Natasha turns and heads back to the bed before returning. Wanda has her hands raised slightly, and at the woman’s raised eyebrow, raises them up until it looks like she’s offering something to her.

“Tell me if these are too tight,” Natasha murmurs, before she’s wrapping soft leather cuffs around Wanda’s wrists. The inside is made of a soft, cushiony fabric. The outside is black leather, with strong velcro strips in the center.

Adjusting the cuffs a few times, Natasha slips a finger in between the fabric and the skin of Wanda’s wrists before letting her move her arms for a moment.

“Comfortable?”

“Why the velcro?”

Natasha squats down until her eyes are level with Wanda’s. It’s a casual position that oozes confidence. Wanda tries valiantly not to glance down at the woman’s chest.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer before you ask one of your own.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Smiling slightly, Natasha reaches out and attaches a metal link to each D-ring on the cuffs. It makes the cuffs almost like a pair of handcuffs, if the handcuffs were pretty and soft.

“The velcro makes it easier to take the cuffs off quickly in case you get a muscle cramp or need a break. This way, I don’t have to deal with a buckle.”

“That makes sense.”

“Are you ready to begin?” Natasha asks softly.

Wanda feels her heart speed up again, but she nods. “Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Good girl.”

Grabbing the cuffs, Natasha stands and pulls at them, urging Wanda to stand as well. She grabs a long chain, attaching one end with a clip to the middle of Wanda’s cuffs. The other end is attached to the metal pattern on the ceiling, which Wanda has just now noticed is shaped like a subway system grid. Using the grid, she can go basically anywhere in the room, but her hands are effectively restrained above her head.

“I won’t have your arms up for that long,” Natasha explains, tightening the chain until Wanda is forced to just barely lift her heels off the ground. “I want you as helpless as possible for this next part.”

Wanda lets out a whimper at that. She can feel her panties growing slightly damp, and she prays that Natasha won’t touch them yet.

Grabbing another item from the bed, Natasha comes around from behind Wanda, dragging her fingers along her waist. It causes goosebumps to break out on her skin, and Wanda is half-delirious from the sensation.

Natasha holds up the item in her hand. It’s a riding crop, eerily similar to the one Wanda had dreamed about. Natasha places the end of the riding crop against Wanda’s stomach, and with a quick flick of her wrist, taps the leather against her skin.

It doesn’t hurt. Instead, the impact sends pleasure straight to her core. Wanda is slightly surprised.

“I told you,” Natasha murmurs. “I’m here to bring you pleasure. At times, that may involve pain, but never enough to overpower the pleasure.”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

Natasha smirks. It’s downright sinful. Wanda doesn't have any time to prepare herself before Natasha is landing blow after blow against her. She flicks the riding crop over her stomach, up to her breasts, and down to her thighs. The best part is when she lands a hit directly on Wanda’s nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” she pants, her wrists twisting in the restraints as she tries to escape the sensation.

“You liked that?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff. I did.”

“Good.” Natasha flicks it again, the leather end landing on Wanda’s other nipple. Her body twists as she reacts to the white-hot bolts of pleasure the action brings. “You’re very sensitive here. That’s good to know.”

Wanda feels slightly like a specimen being analyzed, but she doesn’t quite care. Not when Natasha is landing more hits against her breasts, her nipples hard and stiff from the stimulation. The leather moves down again, giving her a blessed reprieve. Blows land on her hips and down to her thighs.

“Spread your legs.”

“I can’t.”

“I didn’t ask you if you could, I gave you a command.”

Wanda does the best she can, her panties sticking almost uncomfortably to her. Natasha lands a few blows to her inner thighs, and Wanda is shaking by the time the woman finally puts the riding crop down.

“How do you feel?”

“Really fucking horny,” Wanda gasps out.

Natasha chuckles a bit at that. Kneeling, she grips the waistband of Wanda’s panties. She inhales deeply, pressing her nose against her pubic mound. In a smooth motion, she pulls them down, lifting Wanda’s ankles and bunching the fabric in her hand.

Smirking, she tosses them over near Wanda’s neatly folded clothes. Leaning in, she presses her tongue against Wanda and licks.

The noise that Wanda makes is downright filthy. It’s something between a moan and a desperate whimper. Unfortunately, Natasha doesn't linger, her firm tongue dragging over her clit only once, Wanda jolting from the stimulation before the woman stands. She grabs the riding crop again and gently kicks Wanda’s legs apart.

The leather end hits her directly on the clit, and Wanda’s hips thrust forward as if they have a mind of their own.

“Ah, I can see that you liked that.”

“I- fuck,” Wanda manages.

Dragging the leather against her dripping center, Natasha flicks her wrist again. This time, the slaps are accompanied by a wet sound as the woman gently hits her center. Wanda’s clit is throbbing, peeking out from under its hood as Natasha’s hits grow stronger.

“Please,” Wanda begs. She’s unsure of what she’s specifically asking for, but Natasha doesn’t ask. She just continues hitting Wanda with the riding crop. She alternates between gentle slaps to Wanda’s clit and harsher blows to her breasts and nipples.

It’s the sweetest torture. Wanda could probably come just from this.

Natasha stops. She’s panting, and she licks her lips before taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes. Fuck, yes please.”

Grinning, Natasha undoes the velcro holding Wanda’s restraints. She lets her arms fall, the cuffs hanging from the ceiling as Natasha guides her over to the large wooden X. She gently massages Wanda’s wrists for a moment, before she taps on the leather restraints at each end of the large X.

“Color?”

“Green, Ms. Romanoff.”

With practiced motions, Natasha restrains Wanda’s wrists and ankles to the wooden X. She’s fully spread out, her thighs slick from the amount of arousal leaking from her. Returning to the bed, Natasha grabs a dark red dildo.

At least the woman has a theme.

Wanda wonders for a moment if it’s the same dildo the woman had used in the strap-on. Then, she stops thinking at all as Natasha drags the tip through her folds. Coating the length of the dildo with Wanda’s arousal, she taps the tip against her protruding clit.

“Ready?”

“Please just fuck me already,” Wanda begs. She can feel her hips grinding against the dildo, and Natasha practically beams at her.

“Well, if you insist,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy. Wanda moans.

The dildo slowly enters her, stretching her in the perfect way. Natasha has angled it to hit her g-spot perfectly. After a few seconds of letting Wanda get used to the size, she abruptly thrusts it all the way to the base. There is almost no resistance, Wanda’s arousal lubricating the toy as Natasha begins to fuck her with it.

It’s rough and gentle at the same time. There isn’t any pain, just overwhelming pleasure as the older woman hits her g-spot with each thrust. Wanda isn’t even sure if the sounds she’s making are human anymore, her muscles aching from how hard she’s pulling against her restraints.

“Please,” she gasps. “Let me cum, fuck. I’m so close. Natasha, please.”

The dildo is pulled out, and Wanda is left feeling utterly empty. She collapses against the restraints.

“What did you just call me?”

Wanda blanches. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Natasha rubs the tip of the dildo against her clit, throwing Wanda’s already-scattered thoughts into disarray. “What are the two titles you’re allowed to call me during a scene?”

“Ms. Romanoff or Ma’am.”

“My first name is not included on that list, is it?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Pushing the dildo fully inside of her, Natasha grabs Wanda’s jaw with her other hand. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Wanda nods frantically.

The dildo starts moving again, and Wanda admires the way Natasha’s muscles glisten slightly under the warm lighting. The woman’s eyes are locked on hers.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I want you to ask me for permission every time you want to cum, Wanda.”

Moaning slightly, Wanda nods. Her wrists are beginning to feel a bit sore from how much she’s pulling against her restraints. “Please, can I cum, Ms. Romanoff?”

Natasha pretends to think for a moment, her arm working the dildo in and out of Wanda. She smiles slightly when the younger woman lets out a high-pitched whimper, her pupils blown and eyes glassy and as she silently begs.

“Cum for me, Wanda. Cum for your Dominant.”

The pleasure that courses through her as her orgasm hits is unlike any she’s ever felt. Natasha’s fingers are on her clit, coaxing out every last drop of pleasure as her muscles seize. Spots dance in her vision, her ears ringing as Natasha’s voice becomes muffled. Pleasure spreads like warmth throughout her whole body, her muscles finally beginning to relax.

Natasha’s fingers circle her clit one last time before pulling away. She gently removes the dildo from Wanda, disappearing for a moment behind another door. Wanda can hear the sink running for a moment, and she assumes that there is a bathroom behind that particular door.

She feels funny. Both heavy and weightless at the same time. She wants Natasha.

“Natasha?” She calls out, her voice feeling weaker than before.

The redhead appears almost instantly. “Hey, I’m here. Let’s get you out of those restraints.”

Those long fingers are gentle as she releases Wanda’s wrists and ankles. She places a fluffy bathrobe over her shoulders, wrapping Wanda securely in it before pointing to the large bed.

“Go, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Wanda could fall asleep the instant her body hits the mattress. She feels like mush, ready to sink into the bed and remain there for several hours. The mattress dips as Natasha sits next to her, grabbing one of her wrists gently and rubbing some sweet-smelling lotion into her skin.

“How was that for you, Wanda?”

“Fucking amazing,” Wanda murmurs, her eyes half-closed. “How was it for you?”

“Everything I’d dreamed of and more.” Natasha’s voice is quiet. “You’re perfect.”

Wanda laughs at that, waking up slightly. “Says you. Have you looked in a mirror recently, Ms. Romanoff?” Her voice is slightly teasing.

The woman just shakes her head and scoffs. She grabs Wanda’s other wrist and rubs more lotion into her skin. Setting the lotion bottle aside, she stands from the bed. In one motion, her arms are under Wanda’s knees and back as the woman easily lifts her from the bed.

Wanda can’t help but giggle slightly as the woman carries her princess-style out of the room. She pads gently down the hall as Wanda buries her face into her neck, loving the scent of cinnamon that seems ingrained into the woman’s skin.

“We’ll sleep here,” Natasha murmurs. “After your nap, we’ll talk more. For now, sleep.”

Wanda doesn’t have to be told twice; she’s out before her head even hits the pillow.

Shaking her head fondly, Natasha scoots into bed behind her. Wrapping her arm around the younger woman’s waist, she smiles into the back of her neck as Wanda grabs her hand in her sleep, pulling it up to her chest as she curls up.

Natasha feels her own eyes closing. She lets herself drift off, engulfed with Wanda’s vanilla scent and a warm, cosy feeling bubbling in her chest.

---

Dm or comment to be added/removed!

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tiathedoll · 1 day ago

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how to thrive at school ♡۰ ׅ ࣪ ⊹

❤︎ ྀི˖𓍢 hi dollies!! i know i haven't been posting that much,, but since the new school year is right around the corner for most of us i decided, why not make a back to school post? i hope you all enjoy and thank you so much for your support and 700 followers!! ໒꒰ྀི⁄ ⁄>⁄ ⁄ <⁄ ⁄꒱ྀི১

1. iron your outfits / uniform Ⳋ᧙ .˙

ironing or steaming the wrinkles out of your outfit seriously make a huge difference. when you look good, you feel good and when you feel good, you perform good ♡

2. fix that posture!! Ⳋ᧙ .˙

shoulders back, hips forward, chin up!! i know that being at school for hours a day can be draining. however, straightening your back and keeping your chin up is so incredibly important not only for the way how you come off but also your physical health.

3. romanticize your school life! Ⳋ᧙ .˙

school can be depressing at times, which is why it's the best to look on the positive side of things. there are many ways to romanticize school ♡

create playlists!! whenever i'm at school, i love to listen to my girly playlist with jpop, kpop girl groups, and bubblegum pop songs! it puts me in a happy mood, even when i'm too tired to function.

cute stationery!!! i cannot stress this enough, cute stationery seriously makes all the difference when you're in class. i'm not sure about you guys, but whenever i use my cutesy pink stationery and my purse with all my keychains, it just makes me excited for school and overall more motivated to complete my work. as mentioned earlier; when you look good, you feel good.

making your notes cutesy! now this all depends on the kind of teacher you have. if your teacher is teaching the class extremely fast, giving you no time to make your notes cute, focus on writing what you need to write and then when you come back home from school or after class, make your notes as cute as you would like ♡ make sure you understand your notes and study them whenever you can! ♡

making a pinterest board! i kid you not when i say my academic pinterest board genuinely keeps me so motivated for the entirety of the school year. i've had an academic board for two years now and i can say, it is one of the best ways to romanticize your school life, even when it gets difficult. i usually add images of pink stationery, study tips, or academic goals i have or would like to achieve! if you can, i would highly recommend making one, it's a fun and easy way to boost your motivation for school ♡

4. focus on yourself Ⳋ᧙ .˙

don't get me wrong, this can be way easier said than done for most people but really think about it. why should you care about what people at school are going to think about you? are you going to know them in 5 years? how about 10 years? the answer is most likely you are never going to see these people again. so, why should you value their opinion of you? having that anxious feeling about going back to school is completely normal, but just remember, their opinions aren't worth anything. their opinions aren't worth anything. be yourself and focus on yourself! take care of yourself, work hard for yoursel!.

5. keep certain parts of your life private Ⳋ᧙ .˙

now when i say this, i don't mean don't tell anyone anything and never open up. however, some people really will try to pray for your downfall and will try to bring you down to feel better about themselves.

things you shouldn't overshare to others about include...

your love life

grades!!

insecurities!!

this is totally optional, if you really trust and know someone enough to tell them these things, go ahead ♡

6. always always always stay on top of your work and grades Ⳋ᧙ .˙

especially if you are a junior in high school please stay on top of your grades and turn everything in on time!! colleges really start to look at your performance during junior year and if you are planning on taking ap or honors classes, make sure to lock in!

ask your teachers for help or guidance, and never feel ashamed or embarrassed to ask for help. it's the teacher's job to help you—the student—to learn and understand the material being taught.

do practice quizzes or problems at home or during your freetime. i have been using quizlet and khan academy since middle school and it is seriously such a huge help with math and science ♡

and of course, give yourself breaks when needed. do NOT pull all nighters. they may sound beneficial but when you really think about it, it's really not worth it. you won't be able to focus if you're sleep-deprived (even with energy drinks) and you won't be able to remember the material you studied without a good night's rest. your physical and mental health are just as important as your education so, take care of yourself and take breaks when needed.

don't be so hard on yourself if you fail a quiz or test. instead, focus on ways to healthily improve so you do better next time ♡

❤︎ ྀི˖𓍢 i hope this post gave some good advice and helped you girlies who are going back to school this year <3 i wish you all luck and you will do amazing this year… 𐙚

xoxo, tianna 💋🎀

#tia's posts ! . . . ❤︎#hyper feminine #pink #pink aesthetic #pink princess #2000s #girly #girlblogger #hime gyaru #girlblog #pink academia #that girl #kawaii #cute #cutesy

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yeonboy · 2 days ago

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𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡ choi b͏e͏o͏m͏g͏y͏u͏.

You've been the top student in your grade all through middle and high school. You got into university on a scholarship that is only awarded to two top students in the entire country. Needless to say, you’re pretty proud of your academic excellence and are determined to graduate college as valedictorian. Choi Beomgyu, however, throws a gigantic wrench in your well-laid plans by entering your university – as the other top student in the country to have secured the scholarship.

❧ choi beomgyu x f. reader | 13+ | college!au ♡ rivals to lovers!au ♡ humor ♡ drama

❧ 5 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt art history & related project works, profanity, misunderstandings, miscommunication, blatant denial of a very obvious crush, mentions of murder (as a joke), yelling, some hurtful words tossed, some crying, an emotional breakdown, kissing, gyu being a lil shit but we love him <3

❧ note! i was in a ridiculous beomgyu brainrot when i began writing this but then life happened and two whole years went by. sigh. anyways. i feel like e2l is something that always feels 100% canon w gyu idk why??? i have another v preliminary idea for a royalty e2l au but let’s see how things pan out, hehe <3 this one’s in the same universe as noby & nmyh as well - i’ll name this au when i come up w a decent name! (not proofread bec where's the time 〒▽〒)

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

“Why does checking the assignment scores have to include so much running, again?” comes a panting complaint from one of your best friends, Giselle.

Your other best friend’s feet pitter-patter against the linoleum floor of your university’s hallway as she joins the two of you. “Because our overachiever bestie here is also crazily superstitious and believes that this dude will curse her score if he sees it first!”

You shoot a glare at Ryujin over your shoulder. “Y’all don’t have to come along, feel free to wait in the cafeteria!”

“Oh, but we do!” exclaims Giselle. “You might resort to violence if push comes to shove!”

“Yeah, we’re not bailing you out ’cause you broke someone's nose,” comes a wheezing warning from Ryujin, “again.”

“Or getting you a lawyer if you’re charged with manslaughter…”

“It’s just a class assignment that’s not even part of her grade, she’s not gonna kill him for that, G!” There’s a pause, and then Ryujin adds: “Are you?”

You ponder her words. It is just a class assignment. But because it has been handed out by a professor that has just joined your department, this assignment has become an important one. If freshman year has taught you anything, it is that art professors tend to not judge and grade your projects for the art itself – but rather the impression of you they have carved out based on the initial work you have done in their class.

Plus, ranking first on this assignment will help with extra credits, which in turn might assist you in dethroning the bane of your existence from the high and mighty first position he has claimed at the end of freshman year.

Yep, that's right. You aren't at the top of your class. It has been a catastrophic nightmare coming to terms with the fact.

The thing is, last year, said bane of your existence, your biggest competition, the one human being that was sent into your life because the universe had beef with the peace, quiet and happiness you wished to live in – otherwise known as Choi Beomgyu – managed to leave a lasting impact on your professor, so much so that he ended up with an unbelievably amazing all stars score for the entire academic year!

He didn’t earn that first place, he weaseled his way to it like the rodent he is.

Not anymore, though! You will ace this assignment and then you will completely obliterate him in the live sketching assessment your class has tomorrow. The one that actually is part of your grade.

“Babe, this is ridiculous!” Giselle cries out again, audibly smacking your other best friend. “Ryu, tell her this is ridiculous!”

“She can hear you, G, she would’ve listened if she was gonna listen!” Ryujin concludes her one-hundred per cent correct conclusion.

“We’re here, guys, quit whining,” you grumble, finally having reached the end of the hallway.

You come to a gradual pause near the group of people that have been crowding near the notice board and attempt to peek past their shoulders to catch the name at the top of the list.

Right then, a loud, boisterous laughter echoes around the entire hallway, way too ear-splitting and thundering even over the general noise of the college. It’s harsh, it’s piercing, it’s annoying.

It belongs to Choi Beomgyu.

And you don’t need to look at the results anymore.

“Heyyy, princess!”

Every single fiber of your being fucking bristles at the yelled lecherous pet name. Okay, maybe it’s not that lecherous, but it doesn’t feel far enough removed from a catcall due to the person it emerges from.

You tell yourself that these scores don’t matter all that much because the project that will actually contribute to your grade is tomorrow. It’s a live painting class where you’ll be judged by an external examiner so you’re pretty confident that you’re going to ace it.

Beomgyu’s favoritism tactics will not work.

You will have his ass, obliterate his ego and finally defeat his unbeatable scores.

And yet, you cannot quite stop yourself from waving a hand up in the air and flipping him the bird over your head.

His gasp travels to you, followed by his friends’ snickers.

“Hey—”

“She’s not in the mood, dude.” Ryujin, always one to help you avoid fights by picking them herself before you can, speaks before you have to. “Fuck off.”

On heavy feet, you proceed to stand before the notice board when the crowd has thinned out a bit.

Rank 1 - 87/100 Rank 2 - 86/100 Rank 3 - 54/100

What the actual fuck.

One point. You and Beomgyu have the difference of one point, one singular fucking point!

The third ranker has freaking 30+ marks less than you!

You can’t believe that this rodent has topped you by one measly point. This isn’t fair game. This is a straightforward result of all those smiles he passes your professor as if the woman isn’t married and has a son.

“He’s a rat, babe. We know that. It’s not worth it,” Giselle reassures you, and you nod because she’s absolutely right.

“I hate him,” you grumble, trying to glare at the notice board hard enough to incinerate it.

“We know. And we agree. Let’s just go eat, hm?”

The three of you begin to move towards the cafeteria. But of course Beomgyu and his gang follow you there!

Although it might not be kind to club all his friends into the same category as him.

Choi Yeonjun is the university’s star hockey player who has offers to play professionally, Choi Soobin is the Broadcasting Legend who has offers from freaking NBA to come cover their games for them, and the other two freshmen seem sort of bright-eyed and innocent. None truly as horrendous as the dude you despise. But their association to him sort of makes them deserving of the disgust you subject them to.

"I'm gonna get you a chocolate croissant to cheer you right up, bestie!" Giselle pats your shoulder with a wide grin. "Just you wait."

"And I shall get you a piping hot cup of hot cocoa to dip it in," Ryujin does a dramatic bow.

You can't help but smile. You're blessed to have these two as your BFFs. You'd cry daily if it wasn't for them. “Thanks, girls.”

“Oof, that's quite a non-deserving treat. But then again – princess truly needs some picking up today.”

The greasy drawl is followed by a cheap snicker, which makes every single hair follicle on your body stand on its end. This little bitch.

While your best friends are off collecting the goodies they promised, you turn to look at the brat with narrowed eyes. His sleazy smile is on complete display. Oh, how you hate it. How you hate his his perfectly pearly teeth, how you hate the way his hair falls into his squinty, chocolate brown eyes and brings your focus down to his cutely scrunched up nose that—

Okay, fine, what the hell, his smile is gorgeous. It's really hard to hate such an adorably gorgeous smile. And you kinda hate that more.

“What’s that? Princess got no more spicy comebacks left in her? Strange.”

You make a show of rolling your eyes as hard as you physically can. “Unlike you, my braincells are actually useful. I'd rather not waste them thinking of things to say to you.”

“Ooh, that's a good one!”

The response comes in a female voice from the group Beomgyu came from, and you peek over in surprise to see Soobin's girlfriend giving you a thumbs up. An involuntary chuckle leaves you at that, while Beomgyu flashes a scowl at the girl.

“Hey, don't make faces at my girl! Not her fault if you can't hold your own!” Yeji yells at Beomgyu, throwing a thumbs down to boo him for added impact.

This time, your chuckle comes stronger and with a noise that you have to cover up with a cough when Beomgyu turns to glare at you.

“That's all useless discourse. The scores are what truly count. And that's what I've bested you at.”

Oh, he should not have said those words with his nasally, whiny bitchy taunting voice. You take a step closer to him, pursing your lips to stifle the growl that emanates from your chest, and point a finger at his chin. “You and I both know these scores don't count towards our grade, Choi. The real showdown is tomorrow. Let's see who wins that one. Well. I know the result already – but maybe it'd sweep right past you, given how you refuse to step off your stupid, invisible high horse.”

Hoots, hollers and even a whistle echoes from the groups that have gathered around the two of you. Yeonjun's girlfriend begins to clap, and everyone else slowly joins in.

As your lips slowly quirk up into an amused smirk, Beomgyu's ears begin to turn pink then red and then nearly maroon. He drops all the faux smiles he'd been flashing so far, and gives you the dirtiest scowl you've ever seen him sport.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves and have tomorrow answer the question for itself, princess.”

You scoff and step away from the guy, but his words strike you as strange. He didn't claim victory, did he? Like you both always do?

As you walk out of the circle of humans made around the two of you, you're surprised to find Ryujin seated at a table, peacefully scrolling on her phone and sipping away at a packet of juice. A steaming cup of hot chocolate rests in wait before her. Gasping, you stomp up to her, utterly betrayed.

“Bitch. How the hell could you leave me by myself?”

She doesn't even look up from her phone as she pulls you a chair. “You’re more than enough to verbally bitchslap that idiot. I know that.”

“And so do I,” announces Giselle, arriving with a tray that holds a freshly baked croissant, glistening with butter.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you drily mumble, pulling your eatables towards you. “And for the treat.”

“From what I heard, his gang seems to support you more than they do him,” Giselle comments with a grin.

Ryujin laughs aloud at that, jumping into a detailed account of how Hwang Yeji, best friends with Soobin's girlfriend, had made some extra snarky comments which initiated a physical chase between her and Beomgyu until Yeonjun's girlfriend intervened.

You slowly tune out of the enthusiastic conversation, focusing, instead, on your meal. But your thoughts still spiral, making you recall how it didn’t always used to be this way. This animosity between you and Beomgyu? It hadn’t been this venomous – acerbic enough to reduce the other to ashes. No, it was a bit tender. Softer. The two of you had been aces in freshman year, competing because that's all you've done all your lives, but…you didn't hate him, back then.

He was cute, seemed kind, and was a genius at your subject.

You'd wanted to befriend him…and maybe more?

But then came that fateful day when he spilled coffee all over your art project and laughed in your face without remorse. That was when you got to see the reality of who Beomgyu is as a person.

It has been war ever since.

“Are you planning his murder in your head again?”

You blink to find Ryujin squinting at you. Before you can even open your mouth to defend yourself, though, Giselle speaks for you. “Why’d you even ask that when that is all she does…”

This time you allow yourself a whine of frustration. “I’ve got better things to do with my time. Please. FYI, I was thinking about the showcase we have to give tomorrow.” You are partially lying, because though you weren't actively thinking about it right now, it's been a constant thought at the back of your head for two whole days. “If I can do better than him, I will regain the top spot before midterms and that’ll inspire me to do well in the mid-terms.”

You're sure your eyes are sparkling by the time you finish speaking, because Giselle looks absolutely disgusted. “Dude… you’re so fucking weird…”

“Yeah.” Ryujin nods, looking just as disgusted. “I don't know how we even became friends…”

After the cafeteria, Giselle left for her 12 o'clock class and Ryujin went to the gym for lacrosse practice. The sport started at your college just this year and Ryujin is aiming to be its first ace player at Ramison High. (She’s also aiming to attract enough groupie attention to break Hockey star Yeonjun’s record, but that information is classified.)

You had no classes for the day, only visited the uni to check the results, so now you're catching the bus alone.

Until he is there too.

Grinning at you.

Again.

“No, Choi, I would not like to have more of you to ruin my day further.” You briskly get in as soon as the bus arrives.

But Choi Beomgyu being the rodent he is, sneaks his way to the seat right next to you. “Why do you seem to be running away from me?”

You turn to look at him with a deadpan. “You really have to ask?”

“Humour me.”

“You’re…sleaxy. It irritates me.”

“What?” He actually looks offended, which brings a smile to your face that you quickly conceal because you do not want him to misunderstand. “Come on, dude! We're the biggest academic rivals on the planet right now—we're supposed to bond. Become the greatest example of frenemies ever seen. For the history books, y'know?”

“Wow. So addicted to the toxicity, you want more of it. You do realise the word frenemies entails partial friendship as well? And we, here, have none of it.

“Well, we can always amend that.”

Beomgyu presents his hand before you – smiling a boyish smile, looking at you with eyes that sparkle from beneath his luscious fringe of hair. He’s the epitome of innocent coercion. If you didn’t know better, you might have even considered him cute. Might have allowed yourself the smile of adoration that you firmly conceal behind pursed lips.

But as you do know better, you choose to give a loud scoff, pushing his hand away with your index finger – minimal contact for better focus. “Let's see how you think about that after I beat you at the showcase tomorrow.”

He simply smiles at you. “After you're awfully beaten, you mean.”

You laugh. “You'd have to lock me up in the washroom for me to fail at the showcase, Choi.”

His eyes squint slightly and he gives you a once over, humming to himself and nodding slightly. “Hmmm.”

And – what the fuck? “I will report you to fucking dean and get you expelled, Choi! Don’t you fucking dare get any ideas!”

He cracks one of his loud, boisterous laughters, while your heart races faster and faster still. Slight warmth begins to take over your ears and climb down your neck, which you quickly label as anger, making a show of pulling out your earpods and plugging your ears with them.

But you know you aren’t being honest to yourself. It isn’t just anger – it is embarrassment. Because your heartbeat didn’t just quicken out of anger at Beomgyu’s words – it was also the way his gaze had turned a shade darker when it ran across you.

But he hates you. And you hate him.

As a soft melody begins to play from one of your focus playlists, you shut your eyes and tip your head against the window.

God, you need some air. And some sleep.

Sometimes, while vacantly musing about life during vacant summer afternoons, we end up thinking of the most impossibly bizarre things—like a comet tearing through the sky to end the earth in a single blaze, or our best friend slumping mid-laughter, lifeless before you can even process it.

We scoff at the images, call them irrational fears.

And yet, sitting on the icy washroom floor with the lock refusing to budge because it has obviously been twisted from the outside—you realize this is how those absurd fears eventually win.

Checking the time, you realise that your showcase is about to begin in the next five minutes.

If you don’t make it in time…

“Choi fucking Beomgyu! This isn’t a joke!” you scream, hoping that your voice reaches the bastard whom you yourself apparently gave the idea to forbid you from winning.

Because who else would lock the doors to this specific washroom that is popularly used by only the arts faculty girls – one of whom is consistently on campus, around the clock. You bet people didn’t even know this door could be locked.

Except, well, you. And the imbecile you told about it yesterday.

You’re going to gouge his eyes out and cut off his hands. And—

Okay, maybe you’re actually making a grand deal out of one assignment. But this art piece is going to be part of your final grade, it isn’t just a fun little contest. And this is more than just about the grade.

If you have been locked here to prevent you from appearing for the showcase, this is absolutely vile. It is underhanded, disgraceful and seriously puts whatever is left of Beomgyu’s dignity in absolute jeopardy.

Until now, all your plans for his murder have just been recreational. But if this door isn’t unlocked within the next three minutes, you might actually put one of them into practice.

You’re pretty sure the dumbass has done this as a harmless prank and is currently standing right outside the doors, barely able to hold his giggles.

Your vision is clouded with red hot fury.

“Choi, you fucking asshat! This isn’t funny anymore!”

You’re beginning to sweat a little.

“Choi! Stop this nonsense! The prank is over, okay?”

While you give a groan of frustration, your thoughts suddenly shift.

Because – why are you so certain that this is just a harmless prank? When has Choi Beomgyu ever been ‘harmless’ towards you?

You swallow past a suddenly dry throat as tears of frustration and despair suddenly spring up in your eyes. No.

You bang against the door with both fists, crying out for help.

But no one listens.

And no one listens for the next fifteen minutes.

Beomgyu has locked you and freaking left.

You aren’t one to concede defeat and so you won’t even allow yourself to frame the sentence in your head, but the truth is that you would have very much rather died trying than be robbed of the chance to even participate.

How dare he.

Sobs of anger and sadness leave you, wettening your entire face, as you finally succumb to your fate.

You are going to miss the showcase.

Beomgyu is going to emerge as topper because he blindsided you, robbed you, cheated you.

And like an utterly blind fool, you didn’t even see it coming.

“What… the fuck?”

Your head whips up at the familiar voice, blurry vision settling on a gaping Giselle. She says your name and you quickly blink, wiping your eyes, and check the time.

It has been two hours since you were locked in. Two hours of crying and wailing. And a good thirty minutes since the showcase ended.

“What are you doing—are you crying?” Giselle rushes to you, cupping your face as she kneels before you. “What happened—are you okay? Talk to me!”

“I’m fine, I just… I–I got locked in…miss–missed the showcase,” you mumble between hiccups.

“What? Locked in? How?”

“H–how do you think?”

Giselle is frowning and looks hesitant, but your sadness has begun to recede and anger has overtaken your entire body. “Hey, wait—”

“I need to go…” You push Giselle’s grasping hands away and storm out of the place.

You find Beomgyu in the cafeteria.

Contrary to your expectation, he’s sitting alone and looks strangely upset. He should’ve been with his gang of buffoons. Should’ve been rejoicing.

Something is off, but you cannot be bothered right now.

You storm up to him with rage spewing from your eyes.

“You absolute piece of shit, Choi Beomgyu!” comes as a hiss from you as you stand against him.

He looks up in surprise, eyes round and concerned. His shoulders suddenly lower, as if in relief, and he opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t allow it.

“No. Shut your conniving, scheming mouth shut. Are you happy now? Pulled your bitch move and got me and F for the live showcase? Talking so much shit about becoming frenemies and what not and then you stab me in the back like this…”

Tears form in your eyes again, but you keep your focus on the anger.

“I hope you had a good laugh. Just know that I absolutely and irrevocably hate you, Choi. I wish to never ever see your face again. Ever!”

His expressions, from whatever you can see through your curtain of fury, go from concerned to confused to upset to somewhat pissed.

“Don’t know what I was thinking, expecting better from you. I should’ve known you’re certified evil when you spilled coffee on my most prized piece of art and had a good laugh about it.” Sniffing at the tears that attempt to block your nose, you point a finger towards him.

“Wait, what?”

You roll your eyes at his blank gaze. “Freshman year. Orientation. There was a girl carrying a huge canvas when you and your group of friends were joking around backstage? You all had coffee cups in your hand, which is why I very politely asked you to move aside – you, Choi Beomgyu, which that stupid neon green suit jacket you wear every week – upended your entire cup of coffee on my artpiece that had taken three months to intricately create.”

Beomgyu gives a theatrical gasp, which just makes you want to punch him in the nose. How arrogantly ignorant.

You exhale in resignation. “Right. You probably don’t even remember any of it happened. Well, spoiler alert, that girl was me.”

“Hey, I—”

“That was one thing, Choi,” you interrupt him. “But this time, you’ve crossed all limits! Locking me in the bathroom was a shitty—”

Beomgyu suddenly gets up, wraps his hand around your pointed finger and tugs you closer to him. “No! No, no—I didn’t do it! I didn’t lock you…and I didn’t spill coffee on you either, I swear.”

Your remaining words leave you in a gasp. “Right. And why should I believe you?”

His brows are furrowed and lips are pursed. You have never seen him this serious, ever.

“You should believe me because I’m telling you the truth. And in fact, that whole incident with the spilled coffee and the laughter? It is a royally fucked up misunderstanding. A screw up with the point of view that caused some heavy misinterpretation. Nothing—nothing even actually happened that way.”

“What the hell are you—”

“Let me finish. Please.”

You immediately become silent. Beomgyu has never used the word ‘please’ with you before.

“Soobin hyung was the one that bumped into you – not me. And it was on accident.” He lets go of your hand to rub both his palms down his face. Then he looks at you with soft brown eyes, pleading. “He was wearing my jacket because he needed one urgently to go on stage and host our orientation…and that is why we were laughing, Because my jacket was two sizes too small on him and looked hilarious. None of us had any idea what had happened with you in the exact timeframe… And though it is shameful that we didn’t realise it, we weren’t being assholes.”

You are frozen in time, mouth dropped open in shock, eyes refusing to blink. The incidents of that evening run through your head like a movie.

Everything you’ve known for a year has been a…misunderstanding?

Beomgyu’s eyes suddenly widen. “Wait…is this why you’ve been hating me all this while?”

You scoff. “Please. It’s not like you don’t return the sentiment.”

He gives a short laugh, eyes softening. “What are you talking about? I only responded in kind because I thought you were playing around. I didn't know you genuinely—”

“Playing around? Was that what you did today?”

Beomgyu gives a whine of your name. “You have to believe me. I did not lock you in! I – I only like to banter with you because you’re feisty and riling you up is fun… I’d never try to sabotage you. I…I went looking for you in fact… When I couldn’t find you, I sent Giselle to look in the bathroom.”

He went looking for you? He was the one who sent Giselle?

You find the words hard to believe.

But paired with the grimace on his face…you’re having a hard time refusing them. “Wh–Why would you do that?”

“I was concerned, obviously. Competing is no fun if your competitor withdraws, you know?”

You give a reluctant nod of approval, looking away from him, when your eyes catch sight of a file lying on the table he was seated at. You gape. “Wait… did you not make your submission?”

Beomgyu’s cheeks redden. “I was worried so I got too nervous to present…”

“Why…would you worry so much about your competitor?" You peer into his gaze that he’s trying to keep away from you.

You don’t even know what you’re expecting to hear. What you want him to say to you. But you’re definitely very massively unprepared for what he says.

He gives you a smile but it is so tiny and sad that it doesn’t even reach his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? Because I like you. I always have, ever since we first met in junior high. But you’ve always held up this rivalry between us… and you just made your feelings pretty clear too, so…”

Your breath is caught in your chest. He likes you. He has always liked you. And you had no idea.

He subtly shifts closer to you, looking between your eyes and lips. A warmth runs up your body, and a shiver crawls down your spine. Anticipation. Affection. (Alliteration?!)

But then he bites down on his own bottom lip and exhales, shutting his eyes as if he is giving up, and steps away. “I’m gonna ask Mrs. Tayeon to give us another chance for the showcase… and then I won’t show you my face again, like you asked.”

Oh, fuck. He’s leaving.

He has turned around.

He’s beginning to walk away.

Fuck fuck fuck, you reach out and hold onto his wrist. “Beomgyu, wait!”

He looks at you over his shoulder, lips rounded and eyes wide. “I… I think this is the first time you’ve said my name,” comes out of his rounded lips in a breathless whisper.

While he is still absorbing the surprise, you step closer to him and hold his hand between both of your palms. “See now, beomgyu, this is highly embarrassing to confess, but I think I might have had a crush on you during senior high and last year, until… well. The misunderstanding.”

Beomgyu’s eyes light up like fireworks. And then narrow with feline mischief. “Oh? Might have?”

You give a nervous chuckle, allowing him to wrap his other hand around one of your. “Okay, yeah, I actually did…”

He gives a hiss of disappointment, shaking his head in faux sadness. “Ahhh, so past tense? I just missed my chance, it seems…”

Crying out in irritation, you smack his shoulder with laughter. “Why’re you so annoying? I still do, okay? I really like you and thought you hated me! So please let me—ah!”

You shut up with a yelp when he suddenly gets all in your space, beautiful eyes close to yours and shapely nose nudging your own. “Why’re you still talking when we should be making out?”

And you nearly want to punch him at that because good god, he really is annoying but good god do she like him so much.

So you follow his taunt by sealing your lips to his, giggling as he wraps his arms around you and holds you to him.

Gasps, claps, whistles and even groans of finally echo around the two of you, but you do not let go until you hear a very familiar voice yell out: Pay up, Ryu!

Pulling away, you twist around to find a disgruntled Ryujin fishing out bills from her jorts’ pockets to hand over to a Giselle who is grinning like the cheshire cat.

You gasp. “You two bet on this?”

“Of course, we did! Easy money.” Giselle smiles with zero guilt. “Never believed you when you talked about hating his guts. The lady doth protest too much, or whatever Dickens said.”

“It’s Shakespeare, you illiterate bitch. And you,” Ryujin turns to growl at you, eyes spitting pure animosity. “I chose to believe you when you told me you hated him. This is what you get for being a good friend. You lose money.”

“Yep,” comes a defeated mumble from Yeonjun as he comes to join the circle formed around you all. “Never believe your friends when they claim to hate someone.”

Soobin follows with crisp notes in his hand, grinning exactly the way Giselle is.

“Y’all should hi-five,” Beomgyu comments, earning a smack from you.

“Ryujin and Yeonjun might actually kill us! Can you quit being a little shit?”

He turns to look at you with a soft smile. “As if you would have it any other way.”

#txt #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #txt imagine #txt x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x you #beomgyu imagine #txt scenarios #txt x you #beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu fluff #tomorrow x together #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines

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therobotsarestuckinmyhead · 2 days ago

Text

[IDW] ♡|♤ "PET" Kaon NSFW

uh... I thought the Impactor one was my first robo-smut but I was horribly wrong there... I am not proud of this at all so please... PLEASE SPARE ME... i'm putting this filth onto tumblr. also this uses some of my own HCs i have about Kaon interfacing, lemme know if i should make that into a post someday!

scenario: he saved you, why can't you be grateful? a pet belongs to their master. [this is dark]

warnings: yandere. dub-con(closest to non-con i'll ever get), pet play, collars, spike warming, kaon is an aft [a DJD member is their own warning]... & uh... mild shock-play??? if that's even a thing

THIS IS AN OLD FIC PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR CRINGE

MDNI 18+ ‼️‼️‼️‼️ NSFW under the cut

Kaon's glossa circled around your external node, sucking and nipping. If you weren't in the situation you were in currently, you maybe would've enjoyed this a lot more but regardless, he had you a writhing squirming mess. His electrical abilities proved to have more uses than just plain old punishment, it was a lot more useful in increasing... sensitivity in a way; gently overloading circuits, not enough to short-circuit but enough to leave a bot absolutely hot and bothered, to leave them more... susceptible to their senses. It had a strong effect and a good example of this being used on a bot would be the current sight.

You bit your own to stop the loud moan that was ripping through your vocalizer before they could escape your intake as you felt Kaon's dentae graze against the sensitive area. His hollow optics looked up to your face plates, you let out a soft groan as the stimulation stopped. He was on his knee plates with his servos gripping the sides of your waist firmly, restricting any movement from your side as he devoured your valve fluids like a starved bot that's fried his circuits.

"Don't hold back, pet." He cooed. Even without optics, it was as if they were half-lidded with lust. He loved you so much— if love was even the right word to use. Truth was, he was completely infatuated with you. He wanted you badly. He wanted to see every little part of you, every face you had. He wanted you in your most vulnerable state. He loved it when you called out for him or showed any need for him. To Kaon, you were his without any rhyme or reason the moment he found you.

To which you just looked back into the two holes where his optics were supposed to be, an uncomfortable feeling draped across your face. There was a slight bit of frustration too.

"You hold back and I will not hesitate to hand you over to Tarn or Helex, they are far less nicer than I am." Kaon threatened in response, lust still oozing from his warm voice. He didn't like threatening you and he would never, ever actually consider giving you to those brutes. In fact, Kaon only wanted what was best for you (In his own twisted perspective). He didn't understand why you couldn’t just give in, why you kept resisting… he had given you so many privileges to a point where Tarn was... not very happy. Why weren’t you grateful?

He saved you.

You were his little pet (despite being nearly as big as him) and it was a title you never wanted to accomplish and you honestly feel like no one would want. You were supposed to be killed brutally until Kaon, who at the time thought you were absolutely perfect, intervened and came up with a far more... sadistic yet far less physically painful solution— being his pet. And so, the then miserable you was faced with the dilemma of being Kaon's whor- pet or having an excruciating torture session with a slow and agonizing death.

At the time, being a pet didn't sound that bad. They already had one aboard too! You thought you were going to receive the typical pet treatment, energon from a bowl and maybe a collar. What he offered was strange and humiliating but it was for survival. And even more so especially since you were well acquainted up close and personally with the Megatron Fanboys Association's sadistic methodologies when they brutally "punished" your dear friends; a couple of you and your friends deserted your posts after all seemed lost… the war was over after all but that came back to bite you lot on the tailpipes. Hard.

And you never expected that the predicament of 'pet' included interfacing with Kaon. But as long as you didn't have to face the same brutal & grotesque deaths that your friends had to go through, you were willing to swallow every last bit of your pride and happily throw away your dignity. You were once a Decepticon, a word you could use interchangeably with 'survivalist'.

You would kneel to the DJD if you had to.

He gently tugged the chain of your collar that he so generously bought for you, not enough to hurt but enough for you to respond out of your trance.

"I won't hold back, I promise just.. please, continue." You mutter out with heavy vents as you look down at him, avoiding his gaze in your sitting position. Both your cooling fans whirred at their lowest setting. As humiliating, embarrassing and shameful as it was; you couldn't deny him.

He smiled with a sickening softness as he rubbed the plating around your hips. "You're such a good pet." The words made you shudder from how... creepy it sounded as he resumed his work on your body. His glossa whirled around your wet walls as his digits played with your anterior node to which you whimpered. He loved it when you whimpered.

"Good pet. I knew you would listen. You're so good for me." He praised you, cooing at you as if you were a real pet for him to dote over. Kaon’s face gleamed when he felt the callipers on your valve lining squeeze his glossa. You had a thing for this didn't you? Your valve did the exact same thing on your last intimate session with him when he praised you. It delighted him.

"You like being praised, don't you? Dirty pet." He spoke mockingly with a tone of playfulness.

All shame was out of the window at this point, besides, you'd come to learn that he liked you being embarrassed about this. You might as well admit it at this point and so you do.

"Yes, yes I d- AH." You attempted to respond until you let out a very soft moan while you gripped the mesh of Kaon's berth as you felt his glossa hit a bundle of sensors.

You could basically feel his grin widening against you as your thighs shut tight around his helm, trapping him between you. He didn't really care about being trapped between your legs, fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it. Truth is, Kaon could probably die right here and he would be the happiest mech in the Well of Allsparks.

"How confident. I like the change."

You let out a sound of surprise, almost like a yelp when you felt his glossa go in even deeper. It surprised you, to be honest. Each time his glossa entered your puffy, dripping valve he went in so deep and just when you think that he couldn't go any deeper, he breaks your previous assumption. You're trying your best not to have your pedes hit any of his coils... you can see how excited he is with all the sparks dancing, the turbine in his chassis moving slowly.

He continued to lick and lap over that wonderful spot again and again and again to which you could only helplessly moan and whimper as you put your servos around his helm, pulling him closer to your throbbing core. Your cooling fans intensified as your frame temperature got higher and higher. You were so warm right now.

You could feel the knot in your abdomen tighten as he continued on pleasuring you. Your venting became heavier and heavier. His digits gently touched and traced the mesh of your wet folds. You were so close to your release but then, Kaon stopped. You let out a loud frustrated whine as you felt the overload that was building up go down in shambles to which Kaon chuckled while you protested.

"Patience pet." He teased. Kaon got off his knees and stood up, he proceeded to pick you up and place him on his lap with you head right under his helm and your back to his chest. His interface panel was already slid open, you could feel his hard length on your skid plate.

"‍I've been pleasuring you for a while now. Now, you're warm but I still feel so cold. That's not fair now is it? Would you help your Kaon feel more... Warm?" He practically breathed out the last part onto your neck-cables. You shuddered as you felt his derma against the sensitive cable lines of your neck, he gently nipped a vital fuel line. You could only whimper. His comparatively large arms caged you in against him, he didn't want you to writhe yet.

"Yes... Yes I want- I want to make Kaon... Warm." You said between heavy vents. Even in this position on his lap, the servos on the arms that caged you continued to play with your valve. You could feel his digits go in and out while his other digits played with your intensely sensitive anterior node as his helm rested on top of your's. You were maybe a foot shorter than Kaon and he liked that, it made it easier for him to completely dominate you. He handled you like you were the most delicate being to ever exist, as if you were a glass doll that could break any second. It took everything he had to hold himself back in the berth-room and you knew it. Honestly, it sort of charged you up, being treated in such a manner. Kaon was so cruel yet so gentle with you. You swore that he was driving you insane.

He hummed in approval, he felt his throbbing spike quite literally twitch when he heard you plead for him like that. So desperate, so needy. Just how he wanted you.

Kaon's digits stopped toying with your interface array and held you by your hips to hoist you up only to basically impale you on his hardened, girthy spike without any warnings. You were comparatively a much smaller bot, it wasn't going to be easy to fit his whole spike. A scream practically erupted from your vocal processors only for Kaon to put his one servo around your mouth so it could be muffled. Nobody but him deserved to hear these sounds on this ship.

"Do you want to get into trouble?" He asked, gritting his denta. He didn't want to get into trouble with Tarn again, Tarn never really did approve of you being kept as a pet and wanted you terminated immediately. He agreed to Kaon's proposal of keeping you as long as he could get you under control and as long as you wouldn't be a nuisance. And to Tarn, loud noises fell into the nuisance category.

Your optics pricked with coolant at the sides, threatening to spill as you nodded in cooperation with him. He kissed you on your faceplates. "Good pet." He moaned into your audials as he felt your callipers clench around him tighter, your hot oral lubricant coating his digits as he continued to feel round your intake.

He gently pushed you down further onto his length, trying to get the whole thing in.

"I.. nghh I don't think- I can.. fit all." You spat out as a slurry, your glossa running over his digits. Your optics began spilling out liquid while you let out a shriek as you felt him grab your hips once again to push you onto his length.

"Shhh... Shhh. Don't worry. It'll all be... Okay. You've done this before-" He groaned out as he tried to comfort you, your hips sputter as he tries to .

Your greedy valve had only sucked in half of his shaft and Kaon wanted the whole thing inside you, like he usually did. You squirmed on his lap, writhing as he thrusted in the rest of his length inside you with agonisingly slow movements. He wasn't supposed to be this... this strong! You're the same damn class-size as him yet somehow... by some way which you can only assume is forsaken because Primus has certainly forsaken these mechs, he's strong enough to handle you like you're nothing.

It makes no sense. But you rarely ever got time to think of that and certainly, you wouldn't get any now.

With one last thrust his whole spike was inside you, stretching your walls as your valve wrapped around him, welcoming him. You tried to curse him, a natural response to his reckless actions with more optical lubricants spilling down your from the corners of your optics but he just made you gag on his digits before you could.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He purred into your audials with his helm on your shoulders plates and the only response you could give was a choked sob.

"You're such a warm pet, you're just perfect." He praised as he took his digits coated with your saliva out of your mouth and used both his arms to cage you in, his arms positively squeezing around your abdominal area, right below your chassis. He kissed the side of your helm, placing uncharacteristically soft kisses as he rocked back and forth. The sounds of your whimpers, his empty words and the roaring of both your cooling fans filled the room. Lubricant dripped down from your valve to his berth.

You whined. You were desperate for some friction and he knew it. This was his own twisted way of making you beg for him. Kaon felt your walls flex around his shaft and he let out the most borderline pornographic moan you’ve ever heard into your audio receptors. It was the most erotic thing you had ever heard to date. You couldn't take it and more, you needed your release.

“I want…” You stuttered out hopelessly, its hard to be articulate with such a foggy processor. You just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him to move.

You could practically feel the devilish smirk that was plastered on his faceplates. He began gently biting and nipping on your neck cables while his digits traced your form to your external node to toy with it once again. His claws began rubbing against the bud at an agonisingly slow pace. The jolt of sparks from the tips of his digits almost made your squeal, only to be muffled by his digits in your intake. Your capacitors nearly tripping with the excess charge the sparks of electricity provided, the pleasure of the experience was something else.

He was overwhelming your senses.

And it was working.

“What might... haaah my pretty little pet want? Why don't you speak up?” He asked as he chuckled darkly against your neck cables, letting out his own soft moans every now and then. You just felt so fragging perfect around him. It felt so good. Kaon had no words to describe it. It was euphoric, like he was on another plane. Completely lost in ecstasy. As if you were made for him. He wanted you so badly, this felt so right. He knows you should be dead, that you were never supposed to be here but he couldn't help himself!

“I want- mmmph- move.. inside, please.” You tried to roll your hips, tried to move on his spike only for one servo to stop stroking your exterior node to yank the chain attached to your collar. Your optics went wide as you felt his digits going in deeper into your intake when he yanks the chain.

“You get to move when I- frag... say so.” Kaon let out a breathy moan. “You weren’t so clear... mmm... last time, pet. Why don't you tell me what you... want properly, hm?” He loved teasing you.

This was beyond humiliating. You could feel even more heat rise up to your faceplates. He’s usually far more merciful, something bad must’ve happened on his mission. “C’mon, speak up, pet.” His gentle rocking was far from enough.

“Move, please, Kaon... Please.” You spoke with choked sobs. It was just too much.

Those four words were enough for something absolutely primal to spark up within Kaon’s twisted processor. He got you off of his twitching spike and his lap only to gently place you on your back, on his berth. Kaon wasted no time crawling on top of you. He lifted your pedes that appeared to be quite weightless to him and put them on his shoulder blades, you would've thought that a rarher lanky mech like him would have struggled but for this moment, he didn't seem like the Kaon you unfortunately had come to know; there was something... different? There was a hunger. Your puffy valve grinded against his spike momentarily as he did so, and you moaned at the sensation.

He grabs your waist and slowly inserts his spike into your valve. Inch by inch, you were already stretched and well-lubricated, his spike slid in easily. You were thankful you didn't have to go through that pain a second time.

“Comfortable?” He asked in what felt like mock concern, none of it was ever truly real. You looked into his hollow optics and for once, you saw something there. It looked like genuine concern, you practically melted into the sensation of finally being stimulated and nodded in response.

He smiled softly at you, for a moment, you thought he would be gentle and caring but he was clearly giving you a false sense of assurance when he pulled out his whole length only to mercilessly thrust it back in.

Your moan out a curse, your claws gripping on the conduction sheets of his berth as the most lewd, erotic noise you’ve ever made from your vocalizer. He continued to do this repeatedly, hitting that sweet spot within. Kaon didn't fail to make you moan and whimper relentlessly. You could feel the overload forming as you felt your chambers knot up, charge building up. He leaned in, closer to your face and looked at you as if you were his work of art. A masterpiece in the works.

“So pretty…” Kaon murmured under his ragged breath, his finger stroking your cheek plates. You didn't want to even look at him, you were too embarrassed. You could never get used to interfacing with Kaon. Your optics wandered all around his berth room, trying your best to avoid his lifeless optics. Thankfully, he didn't seem to care.

“You take... me so… mmphm well.” He cooed. His servos now stroked your face so lovingly. It made you sick— it made you sick to know that you actually liked being treated like this by this heartless monster of a mech, that this psychopath was the one pleasuring you, that this was your predicament and you were actively enjoying this.

He continued to bombard you with empty praises as he rutted into you like an animal in heat. He just couldn’t shut up, as if it was someone else speaking, something so deep within his spark.

“Mine.. mine.. mine.. all mine...” He groaned. You would be lying if you didn't think that was hot and you could feel your impending overload getting closer & closer. The deal was sealed once he thrusted into you with a rough, broken pace and hit all those sensitive spots yet again, a moan ripped through as your transfluids began to glaze his spike and Kaon groaned as he felt your valve clench him down once again, making lewd noises. With this, Kaon’s own release bulldozed through. He thrusted in deep, making sure all his transfluid would be inside you. As if he was claiming you.

You honestly lost count of how many times he’s made you overload ever since becoming his 'pet'. His ability to send shocks through your frame helps him control it in a way, electrical impulses interfering with your programming in a way nothing ever has and it just makes you all the more sensitive. His EM field radiates a sharpness that you feel could cut through this very wreched ship. You were so overstimulated… you couldn’t help but stifle a small sob from your vocalizer.

Kaon collapsed onto your frame, a panting mess as he peppered soft kisses across your faceplates. You felt so full... You frame stings from all the small shocks he'd apply to make sure you stayed sensitive, perhaps thats why you felt full. After a short while, he pulled out and watched as the mixture of both your transfluids dripped down onto Kaon’s berth and watched in satisfaction, he wasn't the highest in the stamina department but for him, this is more than enough.

You were his little pet and you could never escape. You regretted it so much. If only you had the courage to just... die. Like you should have. Shame overwhelmed you. This mech on top of you, pleasuring you was one of the few responsible for the gruesome death of your friends. You were a coward and now you’re paying for your cowardice.

You felt your optics slowly beginning to offline as you began to slowly drift away into a recharge... you were so tired. Your activities with Kaon had left you dizzy. But you were quickly brought back awake as Kaon yanked hard on the chain of your collar.

"Aw... are you tired, poor thing?"

Its beyond humiliating but you wished you could say something to that. You truly wished you had some witty remark, some snarky response but currently? You had nothing. You're panting and there's a sneer on your face, you continue to show your defiance.

And Kaon likes it.

He finds it that he likes it a lot, really. It made taming you, domesticating you all the more worthwhile. There's a brief moment where he kisses the forehelm of his beloved pet.

It didn't matter how upset you were, in the end of the day, you were with him. Like a pet should be with its master.

He couldn't help but appreciate that.

He just wishes you were more grateful though.

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